A/N: See any chapter up to like, twelve, I think, for a disclaimer.
Roll of honor is at the end of the fic. J
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"Lucius," she gasped.
He leered at her. "I see that the lady remembers… Of course, you realize that I use the term 'lady' in the loosest sense."
She struggled against his grasp. "Let me go!"
"There's a time and a place for that, dear. This isn't it." He waved his wand and she felt them both disapparate.
When she opened her eyes, she found herself away from the frigid gales that had frozen her to the core only seconds ago. She shivered within the damp wooden walls and looked about the dimly lit area. She and Lucius were alone. The only furnishings in this dismal little hovel were a rickety wooden chair, a small table, and a bed. Surprisingly enough, the bed was in relatively good condition.
He pushed her away, throwing her into the bed. "Expelliaramus!" he called out. Her wand flew from her hand straight to his. "You won't be needing this anymore, beautiful," Lucius sneered at her.
She flinched at the sound of her wand breaking once, twice, three times. Antonia fought the tears that welled up in her eyes. That wand had been her friend since she was eleven years old. Now, it was gone, and she was alone.
Well, almost.
Lucius walked closer to Antonia and the bed, using that same so-very confident stride that she'd once found very attractive. To your credit, you were also drunk, you pathetic lush, Antonia admonished herself. Now, that same walk filled her with… fear? Repulsion? Or was it a combination of both? All the same, it was a sensation that she was unfamiliar with. She didn't like it.
"Don't look so frightened, darling… You once begged for it, remember?" he crooned, still approaching her.
"You haven't plied me with bourbon, this time," she croaked, looking around frantically for something, anything that could be used as a weapon. Alas, there was nothing, unless she chose to engage Lucius in a pillow fight.
His shadow fell upon her now, so close was he. Yet he still crept nearer and nearer, his smile as cold as his gray eyes. "I don't need bourbon to please you, Antonia."
Antonia closed her eyes, hoping to block out his image. Quite childish of her, really, but she couldn't help but hope that he wouldn't see her if she wouldn't see him. She felt the bed sag and heard the creak of the bedsprings as he sat on the bed beside her.
This is how it's going to end, she panicked, Lucius Malfoy is going to rape me, then whatever the other Death Eaters have in store… It was almost like a light bulb went off in her head. No, they won't.
She opened her eyes and sat up. "You're right, Lucius," she cooed. She flashed him what she'd hoped was a seductive smile as she rested her hand on the broad expanse of his chest. "I don't have to lie anymore, now that my husband isn't around… All those nights that I was in bed with him, I couldn't help but think how our night in Paris was far beyond that," she whispered, dragging her hand lower. "I wanted you to come back to Hogwarts while my husband was away, and I wanted you to touch me again and again…" Her hand went down lower as she fought the urge to vomit.
Malfoy's breathing grew sharper as her fingers continued their maddening descent. Tilting her chin up, he brought his lips down to hers. The Death Eater kissed her savagely, possessing her, dominating her, claiming her.
Antonia tried not to gag as he choked her with his tongue. Her hand still eased down lower at that maddeningly slow pace when she found him. She felt Malfoy's entire body stiffen against her as he moaned into her mouth.
Try this, you bastard, she thought hatefully. Without warning, she bit down on his tongue with all her might, while her hand squeezed.
He screamed. It was an agonizing sound even to hear, that pain-filled sound. He fought and struggled to get away from her, maddened with pain. The more he moved, the harder she bit down and the harder she squeezed. The sound of him screaming rattled in her ears, making her head throb. Gods, what a satisfying sound for her.
Still, she kept up her torturous touch. Die, you son of a bitch. You took my wand away from me, but I can still kill you with my bare hands. The copper taste of his blood flowed into her mouth, but the enraged and frightened witch refused to let up. Her sharp teeth tore into him, ripping, puncturing… Tears poured down his face as he fought and screamed and struggled against her.
She heard it long before she saw it, but the tattered wooden door flung open, slamming into the wall and nearly shaking the room to its very foundation. "Stupefy!" someone called out.
It hit her hard, knocking her to her side. Lucius fell to the floor on his hands and knees, spitting out the scarlet blood. The blood spattered across the floor, leaving angry slashes across the withered brown wood. He struggled to his feet, wiping the blood from his mouth with a sleeve of his robe. Murderously, he glared in her direction. "Bitch!" he spat, spraying her with bloody saliva.
She looked around the room. There was Lucius, whose tongue was so damaged that he could barely speak. Then there was a hooded Death Eater watching the carnage by the door. There was very little threat left in Lucius, save what he could do to her with his bare hands. What he could do with his wand was next to nothing, for he could barely speak with that badly ravaged tongue, let alone use any curses upon her.
But that other Death Eater… She shivered.
The other Death Eater spoke, his sensual voice wrapping around her like a warm cloak. "Really, Lucius… Obviously, the lady wasn't interested. I believe the master said that he did not want her harmed?"
"I should have fucking killed her!" Malfoy slurred.
Antonia looked at her former lover, astonished at the blood. Blood, blood, blood! It was everywhere around him, on him, near him. It was in his voice, it was on his flesh, it was in his scent. The Bloody Baron himself had nothing on Lucius Malfoy. Not then.
"The master would not have let you live, had you done such a foolish thing, Lucius Malfoy," the voice admonished softly. "Apparently, our master fancies the lady. He would take it none too kindly for you to have helped yourself to her."
The Death Eater swept past Lucius and dragged Antonia to her feet by her hair. She cried out softly as she nearly lost her balance.
The Death Eater turned towards her, looking over her. "You are quite the little fighter, aren't you? That was a hell of a job you did on our boy Lucius over there, and that you did it without a wand is even more impressive." It was said with a bit of admiration mixed in that silky smooth sensuality.
Antonia trembled beneath his touch as he wrapped a gloved hand around her arm.
"Scared, are you?" The voice sounded amused. "Well, you needn't be frightened of me. I'm not here to hurt you. Of course, seeing as how Lucius, the stupid bloke, had treated you, I don't suppose I really can blame you. But no worries about me, love. I'm here simply to see that you are treated in a manner befitting a guest of the Dark Lord."
Not surprisingly, Antonia did not find that very reassuring at all. Just because he said that he was no harm didn't necessarily make it true, now, did it?
The hall that he led her down was of equally ancient wood as the miserable little chamber that she'd just left. She looked down as the Death Eater continued to escort her. Upon seeing her own bloodstained breasts, she wrenched herself out of the monster's grasp. She ran to the wall and braced herself with one hand, sliding to the floor. Against the wall, she knelt and vomited.
Antonia rested her head on the splintery wall and shook with smothered sobs and illness.
"Shh," the voice gently soothed as a large hand carefully, almost reverently, stroked her back. "So much blood can be easily upsetting, can't it? Especially when it clings to you, so thick and heavy like a cheap perfume…"
"I'm covered in blood," she whimpered. "I can't get it off of me!"
"Hush, now, darling. Be strong. You did very well. The master will be proud of you," the Death Eater paused, gently brushing a blond hair from her face, "And very displeased with Lucius. You were, after all, to be treated as a guest, not pinned and raped like some filthy muggle wench."
The Death Eater wiped her tears with gloved hands. "No tears, either. The master will be most upset to see you cry. He thinks you to be strong, and it's in your best interest to not disappoint him."
She choked on a sob and nodded.
"As for the blood, no worries. That blood isn't something filthy. Wear it as a badge of honor, a sign of your courage. You took that blood for your own safety, your own defense. That you are still standing, covered in blood though you are, is a great achievement. Wear it proudly."
She swallowed tightly and nodded. The voice had taken on a near hypnotic quality as it soothed her. She knew that the words spoken were that of a mad man, but those were words that were spoken to calm her. Antonia felt oddly grateful to the man behind the mask.
Gently, he lifted her back on her feet.
"He's going to kill me, isn't he?" Antonia whispered numbly, a pseudo calm slipping over her.
The hooded Death Eater looked away. "That's not for me to know or understand, you see. All that is for me is to see that you make it to the master, unharmed. What happens to you once you get there?" The man shrugged. "That is not for me to be concerned about. You will have made it to the master. My task will be complete."
"You haven't got a stomach for the killing, have you?" she murmured conspiratorially.
"It matters not what I've a stomach for. I took the oaths to the master, and I am now his until I die." Those words were said heavily. "Now, best be on with us both, before the master wonders where we'd gotten to."
She stumbled a bit as the man drug her forward, perhaps with a bit more force than was strictly necessary.
"You don't have to do this, you know," Antonia remarked, her voice encouraging. "If this isn't what you want to do, you can leave."
The man laughed. It wasn't a laugh that bespoke of amusement, but a laugh, none the less. This was a laugh that bespoke of pain, of wishing. This was a laugh that mocked her words. "Leave? Leave the Dark Lord? How long do you think that I would last, once I turned against my master?"
"I didn't say it would be easy," she whispered. Her voice was taking on a voluptuous, sensual quality that caressed the man, much as his own voice did to her in her previous state of terror. "But you can turn to Dumbledore. He can help you, even when the Ministry cannot. He can save you from yourself."
"There will be no running for me, love," the man said grimly. "I took my vows to the master, as did my father. His father and his father before him were both sworn to serve the Dark Lord of yesteryear, the Dark Lord Grindelwald. Of course, the pathetic tricks of Grindelwald himself cannot compare with the power of my master."
Impulsively, Antonia took the man's hand and rested it upon her rounding tummy. "Feel this? Do you know what that is? My child is in there, needing me to protect him up until he's born. Do you think that Voldemort will allow that? Allow my baby to be born? You have a choice. You can take us out of here and save us, perhaps knowing that you've managed to do at least one decent thing in your entire life. Or you can take us to Voldemort, doing as expected, and wake up one day to hate yourself because you allowed your master to torture and murder a pregnant woman. You can dream of us, dream of my child who never had a chance. Will you feel proud of what you serve then?" She nearly knocked the man over with the force of her words, words that conveyed her terror, her hope, her fear, and her desperation. Her entire life was riding on this one man, this Death Eater. By gods, she wanted to be certain that he knew it.
"I've seen horrors already, love. What you tell me cannot frighten me or sicken me anymore than the things that I've already done. Yet, I can still look in the mirror. I can still kiss my wife at the door, and I can still hold my child in my arms. If I help you, then those things end. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is." The man's words were tinged with sorrow.
Fat lot of good your empty apologies do for me, Death Eater, she thought. I don't want to die! Not here, not like this…
* * *
Severus disapparated and found himself standing before the Dark Lord, alone. "Master," Severus whispered, kissing the hem of Voldemort's robe.
"You wonder why I've called you here alone, don't you, my son?" Voldemort remarked imperiously. Though it was stated as a question, it was not. Both Voldemort and Snape were aware of this.
"On your feet, my son," the Dark Lord commanded, his reptilian lips sneering.
Severus drew up to his impressive height, but kept his black eyes downcast.
"I have doubts, my son. I have doubts of your loyalty to our cause. Your wife is a muggle lover. She has two half-blood children…"
"I've taught her, master. I've taught her the error of her ways… She was properly punished, master." His voice was calm, even mellow, a lying Slytherin at his best. "I swear it, my Lord… I've taught my wife to respect the superior blood of the wizards, to honor the pureblood of her forebears."
"Really." Voldemort sounded bored. "Why do you lie to me, Severus? I hate it when you lie…"
"I swear, my Lord!"
Severus's words were cut off when Voldemort said carelessly, "Crucio."
The pain was maddening, blinding. He every nerve felt as though it was burning, being torn, being ripped. His midsection felt as though he was being disemboweled before his very eyes.
Then, it stopped. Severus still ached all over, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, but it was not so agonizing. This was a pain that he could bare.
"I want you to leave my sight, now, Severus. Go. My son, my most talented child," the Dark Lord said almost mournfully, "I want you to leave me, and think of your sins. I shall call you again, when I have come up with a punishment that fits the crime."
Severus disapparated back to Hogsmeade. Through the snow, he trudged back to Hogwarts. He had to see Antonia. He had to check on her, to be sure that she was safe in the care of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. The wind blew so strong and cold that it felt as though it cut through him, nearly knocking him over a few times from the sheer force of it. Of course, the wind can't be blowing towards Hogwarts, Snape thought bitterly. It seemed that even nature was opposed to his being with his wife.
He heard his heart pounding in his ears when he finally made it back to the castle. Wet and dripping, he rushed up the stairs, all the while wishing that he could just apparate to Black's chamber and be done with it. Instead, he wasted precious time running up stairs and taking secret passages. Every beat of his heart seemed to mock him, to say that it was one more heart beat that Antonia would not share with him. His thoughts were muddled and crazed by the time he finally made it to Black's chamber door.
"Where's Antonia?" Severus screamed, pounding on the door. He sounded like a woman, but he didn't care, at this point. Any time now, the master was going to pull Severus back to his side. He couldn't go before he knew where his wife was hidden, and he knew that she was safe. He continued pounding on the door like a mad man in frenzy; the man was panicked beyond reason.
After what felt like hours, the door opened.
"Good God, man!" Black snapped.
"Antonia," Severus gasped. "Where's Antonia!"
"This is bloody well getting ridiculous, Snape! I don't have her! Every time you misplace or otherwise offend your wife, you needn't come to my door and accusing me of seducing her," Black replied, letting his irritation show through.
"I sent her to you!" Snape screamed.
Severus could see Lupin in the shadows, approaching the door at a steady pace. "Let the man in, already, Padfoot. He obviously wants something of some importance…"
Reluctantly, Sirius opened the door. Severus staggered in and looked around. "Where is she? She's here, isn't she? Tell me she's here!" he babbled.
"Antonia never came here, Snape," Lupin insisted gently.
"I told her to come straight to you!" he cried. Severus forced himself to slow down and take a deep breath. They'd never tell him anything if he kept up this stupidity.
"What the Hell is happening?" Sirius demanded.
Lupin glared at his friend. "You're not exactly helping to diffuse the situation, Sirius. Do shut up now."
"Antonia… I took her to London. We sat down for luncheon when I was summoned…" Severus pulled up his sleeve and showed them the Dark Mark on his arm. "I told her to go back to Hogsmeade, to run back to the castle and go straight to you. I couldn't take her back myself. The Dark Lord… Voldemort… he expected me to show up immediately…"
"Severus, she never made it here," Lupin said gently.
Sirius Black and Severus Snape both turned pale. "You realize what this means?" Black said hoarsely.
Severus looked sickened and lost. In a flat and empty voice, he answered, "It means that the Death Eaters have her."
W&m_law: I wouldn't give her a fatal disease! She's way too awesome to waste away to nothing.
Bob, spelled backwards: I wouldn't hold your breath on V…
Ordinarily, I'd make more notes, but I'm trying to get this posted on my way out the door. (I leave for work in two minutes!)
So, here's the roll of honor. Thanks for reviewing!
Prue Halliwell, w&m_law, Amanita Lestrange, …, Bob spelled backwards, Gryffindor, Whitebears, illusions525, Tessie, Catriona Snape, Byrdgirl, Maeve, Rushumble, Megan, and Katie Weasley. Double thanks for those of you that reviewed both chapters!
The title of this chapter, Birth of a Tragedy, is from Friedrich Nietzsche. Please review! runs away as page uploads to ff.net