A/N: I own Antonia, Summers, and the unnamed character. All others are property of JK Rowling.

Title Note: While "Red Right Hand" is an impressive bit of musical work by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds ... it is originally from Milton's Paradise Lost.

Roll of honor at the end, of course. J

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"It means the Death Eaters have her." At that, Snape felt the world spin around him, consuming him, tossing him about, losing him in the deafening roar. He felt the world grow darker and then saw the red carpet come rushing up to meet him. The ache was indescribable. It ripped at his heart, deprived oxygen from his lungs, turned his stomach inside out. Not even the Cruciatus Curse could hurt like this.

He coughed, sputtered, and felt the bile from his intestines rise up his throat and pour out of his mouth.

It seemed forever that Severus Snape lay crumpled on the floor, heaving and gasping for breath. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin could think of nothing to say, at least, nothing to say that didn't sound stupidly trite. What was there to be said? A man was grieving for his wife. They were powerless; they couldn't wave a wand and make this better. And so, they stood, watching the heap on the rug known as Severus Snape. But they didn't know how to offer comfort to a man who'd offered them nothing but hostility. Not when instinct insisted that they run over and kick him in the head and keep him there.

Remus made the first move. In his so very gentle, calming way, he stepped closer to the Severus pile and offered a hand. No words, no mockery, no pity. Just that simple, calloused hand.

Severus forced himself back to his feet, declining Lupin's hand. How does one accept help from the people who had spent nearly a lifetime giving only torment?

"Sirius, go get Professor Dumbledore," Remus instructed, his calm, even voice the only reasonable one in the chamber.

Sirius Black nodded grimly and walked out of his chamber.

"She's dead," Severus said hollowly. He couldn't think, he couldn't feel… all that he knew was that Antonia was gone. His wife was dead. His child… Tears slowly ran down his face. Hurriedly, he wiped them away with the rough fabric of his robe.

"Severus. Here." Lupin held out a glass of water. "Drink this."

Severus's long fingers were shaking as he gripped the glass. He downed it hurriedly, feeling the ice-cold wash down his throat and chilling his stomach. He gasped from the shock of it.

"We don't know that she's dead," Lupin insisted stubbornly. "We can get her out of there."

"He's going to summon me back soon. He's going to make me go back. Perhaps he'll delight in showing me her body," Severus said in a flat monotone.

"People can live in spite of Voldemort, Severus," Lupin pointed out. "Look at Harry. How many times has he tried and failed? Yet, Harry is still with us, and he's grown up to be a credit to both of his parents."

Severus looked only slightly less miserable at that. He then pointed out something else that Voldemort had done, something else that brought that lost look back to his eyes. "He killed Lily…" Snape trailed off.

Remus flinched, but said nothing, in spite of the stab of pain it sent through him. He forced the errant thoughts of his two friends out of his head. They were gone; he could do nothing to save them. Better to concentrate on the one that still has a chance. "You said that Antonia met Voldemort. How did that go?"

"That went fine. The bastard tried to flirt with her."

Remus appeared nonplussed, but continued on. "Okay, so he thinks something of her. Perhaps he won't kill her. Maybe he wants to recruit her as a Death Eater or something."

Severus felt a glimmer of hope rise within, only to be dashed upon the rocks as the enormity of the circumstances reaffirmed itself in his head. He glared. "You don't get it, do you? He's not going to do that, because she already declined. Said she already took vows to a master… Said she took vows to me. And now he's accusing me of being a traitor. What better way to hurt me than to destroy my wife and child?"

"Severus, you're going on and on about how this is related to your actions. What makes you think that this whole fiasco is about you? Maybe he's decided to reward Lucius Malfoy by giving him Antonia. Who knows? There's other reasons that he could want her, other than to kill her."

Severus gave Lupin that cool, skeptical look, a look that sneered, "Do you honestly believe that?" He held his tongue and lapsed into silence.

"I really do," Lupin said in his so very soothing voice, answering Snape's unspoken question.

Severus stood and started pacing. "Did Black leave any of his cigarettes here? The way this day has gone, I'm thinking of taking up smoking."

* * *

"You'll be fine," the Death Eater said comfortingly. There was a doorway at the end of the hall; two other Death Eaters guarded it.

"You're lying, you know. I won't be fine. He'll kill me. He'll kill my baby," she answered bluntly. "You know what he'll do to me. He'll torture me. Perhaps use the Cruciatus Curse until I go mad? Or maybe he'll be merciful, and use the Killing Curse right away…" Antonia knew what the man was trying to do, but she'd have none of it. He was trying to assuage his own guilt. Let the bastard suffer for what he's about to do, she thought vindictively. Antonia felt the reassuring weight of the small bottle shift in her pocket. Please, don't make me have to use this, she prayed silently.

"I've tried to be kind to you," the Death Eater growled, "But I'll not stand back and let you try to make me feel guilty."

"What does it matter, unless it works? If it works, then you don't belong here. Only those who feel no remorse for their actions are the ones who are best suited for serving Voldemort," Antonia answered coldly.

"Matters not what I feel. I do what I have to do." He gave her a light shove that sent her stumbling for a few paces. "I am the one in control, here, Antonia. Just think about it. I could have left you back there with Malfoy. I could have let you cry yourself into a pathetic, sobbing mess. I didn't do that."

"You showed me kindness. That's why I don't believe that you belong here. Of course, you seem to be taking pleasure in your Big Bad Death Eater status now, as we draw closer to the reptilian bastard, hmm?" Her voice started out tremulous and gentle, only to be hateful and sharp by the end.

"Take her," the Death Eater said, shoving her toward the two guards at the door. "I'll not listen to this shrew any longer."

She flew forward, catching herself on one of the other Death Eaters.

"Don't handle her too roughly," the first Death Eater, her one-time savior, warned. "The Master wants her in good health. No torture until he says otherwise," he called over his shoulder.

Honestly, at that point, she wasn't sure whether she should thank him or not.

Probably not, she decided. Mealy-mouthed little bastard. I hope you have nightmares about this for the rest of your life.

Antonia was finding it rather difficult to maintain good temperament while fearing for her life.

"Won't you give us a go?" one of the Death Eaters coaxed, his sausage-like fingers biting into her flesh.

She thought she was going to vomit. Did they honestly think she had no standards? She looked the Death Eater in the face… well, mask, and sneered. "I may be a whore, but I'm a whore with some standards," she snarled. At that, she spit in his face. If she was going to die, she was going to die with her head held high.

The Death Eater raised his fat hand to strike her when the other stopped him.

"No! The master!" Death Eater number three reminded.

Death Eater two instead settled for cursing at her in his oily, nasally voice. "Of course, you little whore, you may have already slept with me… As many wizards as you've slept around with, it wouldn't be hard to miss one or two when you count them all up…"

She sniffed indignantly, "If I'd forgotten you, then you must not have been very good at all… How much alcohol did it take? Or are you just dreaming of what you'll never get?" She laughed coldly at the very rotund Death Eater's silence. "I thought so. However easy I may be, how pathetic does it make you, that I've never even been willing to give you a shot?"

"You little…" the piggy Death Eater snarled, going for her throat.

She gasped as his fingers tightened around her windpipe, cutting off oxygen. Everything was growing dark as he shook her and squeezed her neck.

"Stupefy!" a cold voice called out.

The pressure dropped from her throat. When her vision cleared, she saw the violent little bastard's exceptionally rotund form twitching on the rough-hewn floorboards. Standing before her in the door was the Dark Lord, himself.

Something akin to a smile spread across his reptilian lips. "Hello, Angelina…"

* * *

Dumbledore and Sirius walked in to find Severus absently staring at the rug while puffing away at a cigarette. He also had a glass of Sirius's Canadian Mist whiskey in his hand and swished around the amber liquid in the crystal glass.

"Moony! Did you get him drunk?" Sirius demanded.

"I didn't do anything. I figured a shot might calm his nerves. I was right, wasn't I? He's not pacing like a mad man, anymore." Of course, Lupin said all of this in his very calm, very level headed voice. Then again, Remus Lupin never got worked up about anything.

Dumbledore shook his head at the old friends and looked to Severus. "Severus, really, you need to snap out of it," he said patiently, resting a reassuring hand on Severus's shoulder.

Snape looked up with dull black eyes. They held none of their usual coldness. No, they were just empty, as empty as Snape felt. "There's nothing to snap out of. What if he's killed her?"

Dumbledore rebutted, "What if she's still alive? Voldemort was something of a lady's man when he was a student. That only changed when he became so evil and hateful that it was reflected in his very skin. There's a lot of reasons why he may have taken Antonia, but not all of them end with her death."

Sirius spoke up. "So, what do we do?"

"Severus, do you know where it is that he's hiding?" Dumbledore inquired, his blue eyes grave.

"Roughly… I think he's back at Little Hangleton, back in that graveyard where he… Well, where the Triwizard Tournament fiasco ended up."

"I want you to apparate to the area. I know that he'll call you soon, Sirius told me that much. If he does, then it won't matter much that you're already there." He shifted his gaze to Sirius. "I want you to accompany him. Take no prisoners. Just find her and get out."

Severus looked up at Sirius and stared into his eyes, almost into his soul. "You once said that you would die for her. Did you mean it?" Severus asked solemnly.

"I still do," Sirius vowed.

"As would I. You do realize that we just might die in going after her?" The potions master's voice held warning. It was all sharp and cold and business-like.

"Yes. For her, it's worth it. Like it or not, Severus, I do love her. And I can't win her over if she's dead."

Severus resisted the urge to say something nasty and hateful to Sirius. This wasn't the time; he needed the animagus to help him. "Then this is what we'll do…"

* * *

"Angelina," Voldemort sighed, looking at the battered and blood-soaked blond before him. His expression told her that he was not seeing her, but seeing someone else… a living ghost of a distant past, perhaps? "Who did this to you?" he demanded.

"Lucius Malfoy," she announced. Rot in Hell, Malfoy. I may not have been able to kill you, but I'm sure he will… or he'll make you wish you were dead. Antonia realized that she'd have to catch her happy spots where she could find them. Just the mere thought of Malfoy screaming in agony and fear was enough to brighten her day. "The one that you stunned out in the hall also did his fair part of damage," she added.

"Malfoy, Summers. Step forward," the Dark Lord growled.

The two men hesitantly stepped to the center.

"Stand by my side, Angelina. Stand where you used to stand," he ordered. Antonia hesitantly stepped to his left side, hoping she chose the correct spot.

His reptilian lips curled to a smile. "Thirty years later, my angel, and you still remember…"

The man is nutters! she thought. She gave what she hoped was an assuring smile.

"Lucius, you touched her. You attempted to defile my beautiful Angelina. All that is pure stands beside me, and you sought to ruin it!" he hissed.

"Master, I… She isn't what she seems…" Malfoy cried desperately.

"Crucio!" Voldemort hissed.

Lucius Malfoy collapsed on the damp and must floorboards, his arms and legs flailing about in mindless spasms as the excruciating pain of the curse ripped through his body. To watch a man in the throes of the Cruciatus curse was a frightening thing, particularly when it was a man that you generally saw in a position of dominance. Antonia felt herself shrink back from the horrors she observed, although she knew that the man writhing in agony before her was a worthy recipient of such misery.

She almost felt sorry for the bastard. Almost. Once she remembered his hands on her in that filthy little bedchamber in the back of this old house, she felt the need for vengeance surge through her, stronger than any need for vindication that she'd ever felt before. Yes, the miserable little worm deserved the worst of all tortures. He deserved to die for what he'd done to her, what he'd done to countless others. Die screaming, you bastard, she thought hatefully. Antonia wanted to scream it, to yell it, to beg Voldemort to give her the privilege of making that son of a bitch suffer. Antonia realized, for the first time, how strong of a driving force hatred could be.

Two minutes under the curse…

"Do you think he's had enough?" Voldemort asked, looking at his beloved Angelina.

Antonia narrowed her eyes at the pathetic remnants of the once intimidating man before her, still screaming like a woman, like a woman that he'd tortured, perhaps, in times past. "No," she spat. "Let the bastard suffer a thousand times over for what he's done to me."

The Dark Lord nodded approvingly. "I told you, Angelina. I told you before you left me the last time that you would return, and that you would return with a taste for killing that rivaled my own."

"My bloodlust only extends to those who deserve it," the witch rebutted, an air of righteousness in her words.

He chuckled. "Don't they all?" The Dark Lord seemed impervious to the sounds of Malfoy's desperate screams. The other Death Eaters, however, were growing frightened. Three full minutes under the Cruciatus Curse was enough to drive anyone mad.

"That's enough," she whispered. Malfoy was choking on his own tongue, and turning colors that no human should ever turn in life. As much as she hated that Malfoy bastard, she couldn't watch him die…

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice mocking her, his wand pointed just so that he could lift the curse, his body language indicating that he would do it when he felt damned good and ready, but not a moment before.

"Please," Antonia begged. If this continued much longer, she would throw up. She felt the fluid fill her mouth, that nasty sour taste coating her gums, her teeth, her tongue… She couldn't look at it; she couldn't look away. Even when she closed her eyes, there was the sound of his agonizing screams.

Voldemort's reptilian lips curled into a sneer. "Still weak, Angelina," he snarled.

Her hands covered her ears; her eyes squeezed shut. God, I can't take this anymore! Let him die, or let it stop! She couldn't stand it any longer. She felt her breath come in hurried ragged gasps, she felt her knees begin to quake. None of this could be real, yet it was all too real to be denied. And there stood Antonia, at the side of the most feared and hated man… monster… in all of wizardry, and she had no wand to save herself nor to stop this madness that surrounded her.

For all of her training, she was, in a word, powerless. That realization made her sicker still.

Finally, there came the break that she was prepared to beg for. The end of her agony, the anguish she shared with Lucius Malfoy, the cruel bastard, had come.

Malfoy lay on the gray floor very still, his ghostly pale skin now a gaunt, pasty white. He looked dead… She thought he was dead… Antonia actually found herself breathing a sigh of relief when she saw the bastard's chest rise and fall.

"When I give instructions for a prisoner to be unharmed, I mean just that. There will be no attempting to sample her charms. There will be no strangulation because she refuses you." Voldemort looked from Lucius's prostrate form and let his blood red gaze filter around the circle of Death Eaters. His hideous gaze landed upon Malfoy once more. "Get up, you pathetic little worm."

Malfoy wiped the tears from his face and struggled to a standing position, the aged wood creaking under his weight.

"What have you to say for yourself?" the master hissed.

"Never again, master. I shall mind myself to follow your instructions more carefully," Malfoy rasped.

The sound of his voice chilled Antonia to the bone. Antonia remembered how that voice sounded when it purred words of temptation and seduction in her ear all those years ago, when it poured over her senses like the richest of butter, when it nearly drove her to the brink of madness with pleasure. She also remembered how it sounded, hot and heavy in her ear when he was willing to take her by force; she remembered how cold and frigid like the north wind it sounded when he threatened her. But now? Now it was parched like the deserts of Egypt, sandy and dusty and barren.

"Rejoin your brothers and your sister in the circle," Voldemort instructed, his high, cold voice imperious.

Malfoy staggered back to the gap in the circle, which he had occupied only a mere five minutes before. However, he was not willing to lean against the stonework of the wall to hold his shaking limbs upright, nor would he rest his considerable bulk upon the shoulders of one of his healthier, uncursed brethren.

In less than five minutes, a powerful wizard was reduced to a pathetic shell of himself, Antonia shivered. How long would she and her child last under the Cruciatus Curse? Would she make it for a full three minutes, like Malfoy did? Or would she go mad or kill herself, first?

"You, Summers, do you want the same treatment as your brother Malfoy? Would you like to fall before your brothers and writhe before us like a rabid dog? Would you like to be treated like the pathetic animal that you are?"

Summers, the pudgy bastard that tried to strangle Antonia only half an hour before… It seems like another lifetime ago, she marveled… now knelt before them, groveling the favors of his lord. "No, my lord," the fat bastard whimpered.

She found herself disgusted by the weak nature the little pig was displaying. Of course, it was all well and good to attack an unarmed and pregnant woman, but when the time came to be a man, to stand up for himself, the little shit bag fell remarkably short. Honestly, I've seen first year Hufflepuffs show more courage that you, you pathetic sod, she thought, infuriated by the lack of spine present in some of the Death Eaters.

"Torture the bastard!" she screamed, enraged by his weakness. She stepped forward and gave him a well-placed kick to the solar plexus, and felt only slightly vindicated when he collapsed on the splintering wood, gasping and wheezing. "You can try to get me in bed with you, you can insult me, and you can try to strangle me while I'm unarmed, but in the face of the Dark Lord, you cave! Pathetic cur!" She spat on the wheezing Death Eater's prone figure.

Voldemort sniggered, pulling her back to his side. "Perhaps I should just let you beat him to death, instead?"

"Master, please!" the Death Eater groaned. "She's no pure angel… Beside you stands Antonia Delaney Snape, slut of the wizarding world… There's no man she'll refuse…"

"I refused you, didn't I, round boy?" she hissed. "I still have some standards. And my spine is still holding me upright…" As opposed to you hung in the air, unspoken but well understood by all who observed the proceedings.

"She's no pure angel, my Lord… You met her… You were charmed by her… But there was so much more to Severus Snape's wife… Lucius told you!" the bastard squealed.

Fuck me… It was all over… She knew it. Antonia closed her blue eyes and waited for the axe to fall, for Lucius Malfoy to speak of their one night shag-fest in Paris. She waited for any of the others to mention someone that she vaguely recalled meeting while drunk somewhere…

"May I speak, my Lord?" Lucius rasped, his gray eyes appropriately downcast.

"You may…"

"The woman… I spent a night with her in Paris. And she was no virgin, then, and that was nearly ten years ago…"

"I've doubts of the faith of certain Death Eaters to our cause… I wanted this woman held unharmed for a reason. A shame that she is a muggle-loving whore…" Voldemort turned at looked at Antonia. "I wanted you to be her, you know. But you could never be. She was no whore. No, Angelina was a great lady. That you should have the audacity to bear her face is disgusting." He spoke to a Death Eater to his right. "Get her out of my sight. She is not to be touched, not to be harmed. No more than stunned."

The Death Eater handled her roughly, shoving her back to that same filthy bedchamber where Lucius Malfoy had tried to rape her only an hour before. The floor was still covered in his blood, only now it had dried to a dark brown.

She tried not to wretch over the sight of flies feasting on the stains as she sank down on the mattress.

The Death Eater closed the door and locked her in, leaving her with nothing but her own thoughts.

Eventually, the door creaked open, revealing Lucius Malfoy's once-more imposing figure. He seemed to have recovered somewhat from the aftereffects of a very potent Cruciatus Curse.

"You little bitch," he hissed. "I'd almost rather kill you myself, but what the master has planned for you will be even more rewarding…"

Antonia stared up at him with wide blue eyes. "You can't fuck me if I'm a corpse, Lucius." Well, she thought, I suppose you could, but I don't think that necrophilia is your bag…

He gave her a bloodthirsty smile. "This is even better. Your darling husband, the bastard traitor… Either he'll torture you, a muggle-loving treacherous slut, to death, or he'll die. Then, of course, the master would give you to me… And if that time comes, you'll wish that you were dead, bitch, for weeks before I finally kill you."

The most beautiful and deadly of all Death Eaters spun on his heel and walked out.

A/N: The phrase "Die screaming" actually comes from a kind of lame movie with Geena Davis and Samuel L. Jackson… Oh, yeah! It's from The Long Kiss Goodnight.

W&m_law: I seriously doubt that Voldie is worried about Snape. He has bigger things on his agenda…

Gryffindor: Here it is! FWIW, though, I just made it to work on time by the skin of my teeth… As for the blood, well, get used to it. There's a war with the dark side at hand. And she's not out, yet.

Amanita Lestrange: Dammit! Thanks for that, now I know one more thing that I need to fix in the revision. Would you like to be a second beta reader?

Sby: Thanks, but all chapters are already named and outlined, and half-written or complete. J I will keep that in mind for the next piece, since I'm sure I won't drop my habit of filching (and crediting) titles any time soon.

Maeve: Was this soon enough?

Tessie: I know how you feel. I might have had this up quicker, but I took a break to read chapter 6 of your fic when you posted it. ; )

Akisis: Well, what took you so long? J

Snape's Girl: Ask and ye shall receive. (I don't know who that quote originally belongs to… if someone knows the source, could it be cited in the reviews?)

Whitebears: How 'bout today?

Tempesta: My one true love, thanks so much for the beta reading, but, most of all, thanks for being my muse and kicking me in the ass when I was ready to quit. I would have never even started the thing without you.

And, the Honor List: w&m_law, Tempesta, Gryffindor, Amanita Lestrange, Tessie, Sby, Maeve, Akisis, Tangwystl, Prue Halliwell, Sphinx, Snape's Girl (twice), Rushumble, Lindsey Beth, Whitebears, and Katie Weasley