Hey friends!
We are on a roll with the updates! My thought process is, rip the bandaid off fast for these not to pleasant chapters. :( Life is not going very well for Penny right now, but our girl ain't giving up yet! I swear the ending of this book will be nice?
Thanks to all the readers who have shared their thoughts with me, its wonderful knowing your thoughts, and to everyone who has stuck around this long, we are about to hit the 400k word threshold and its hard to believe!
Im headed to bed, enjoy the read! and if you have written to me I'll respond tomorrow when I get up xx
All eyes followed them out of the room, Penny not certain if she should laugh or cry at the turn of events. Snape marched her forward, his grip hard and unforgiving, pulling her almost angrily, as though he feared he would not have the will to continue on if he did not convince himself she was the enemy he needed to conquer.
Down a glittering hall with expensive chandeliers dangling above them every few steps, she watched the light refract at every angle, bouncing in all directions, wondering what kind of awful luck she had to have for her life to have taken this trajectory. It was too hard to comprehend, her brain barely able to move past the fact she'd not only been kidnapped by Yaxley from Hogwarts but from London by Death Eaters in the span of less than an hour, and now here she stood, staring at the back of her Potions Master, except he wasn't her Potions Master, he was dressed like a Death Eater in those loathsome robes, the mask hanging loosely from him, giving her the creeps as it moved and bent in a fashion that was much too realistically skin-like for Penny's tastes.
With each clicking step, she tried to force her brain to catch up, to stamp down the fear, confusion and disbelief. She had no idea how far Voldemort's chambers were from where they were, but she knew her chance was now, if she was going to understand anything she needed to do it now. And even though she was fully aware trying to have a private conversation with Snape right now was likely a very futile and horrible idea, she could not follow him into the lion's den, not until he explained himself, explained what the hell had just transpired.
"Hang on for a second!" Penny said, weakly, tugging against Snape's grip. "You can't just drag me before him without explaining what the hell that was!"
"If you hadn't noticed, this isn't exactly the time or place to have a heart to heart," came his short reply.
"Then make it," Penny demanded, coming to a deliberate halt.
Snape would either have to drag her or stop his progress. Looking thoroughly annoyed, he turned to her, Penny certain he was contemplating taking the expedient option, but apparently his new found conviction not to man-handle her won out and he let out an annoyed sigh before pointing to a closet to their left. After muttering for several seconds and lighting the small space, he crossed his arms and looked impatiently down at her.
"Don't give me that look. You just told a room full of people you desired me! I have the right to know exactly how I was supposed to interpret that!"
Damning silence blared in the overly spacious closet, Penny unable to not notice how it was at least three times the size of the cupboard under the stairs she was forced to share with Harry for the first 11 years of her life. But she would not be deterred and she did not miss how the corner of his eye twitched, prompting her to continue. "You, my professor, asked for my hand in marriage from the Dark Lord! Oh, and let's not forget the part where no one gave a damn what I thought, you know, the girl being passed around like chattel!"
"A bit hard to give your consent when you're tied and gagged at the feet of Yaxley, or did you forget the part where he kidnapped you and intended to do all manner of—do you have the smallest inclination what he would have done to you if I hadn't—" said Snape in an oddly strangled voice that was so unlike the cool, steady one he adopted when speaking to the other Death Eaters.
"I have a pretty good idea, thanks," Penny said, darkly. "But I fail to see how an arranged marriage is the solution. I'm 15! Isn't this illegal! Have you been planning this for a while or was this your on-the-whim solution—" Penny said, her voice slipping into a suspicious accusation.
"You think I did that because I wanted to! I did not believe you could be any more arrogant, but you truly have outdone yourself this time, Potter. As though I would want to give my name to an insolent, plain, foolhardy brat! What would possess you to believe anything uttered out there was anything other than what your stupidity forced me into saying!"
"That's not how you made it seem out there, and not a single one of them doubted it! Penny argued, her cheeks burning hot.
"I was lying!" he fumed, his fragile composure disintegrating quickly as he towered over her in incredulous indignation.
"That did not sound like a lie," Penny said, her eyes narrowing.
"Well seeing as I either do it well or die, I opted for sounding convincing," he said, sardonically.
Penny considered him for a moment, his angry red features, incredulous posture, and shaking hands looked normal enough, though she couldn't be sure whether or not he'd always been lying to her, but she could not help but feel he was being honest now, or perhaps she wanted to believe he was, considering the other option. . . But from what she knew of her potions master, he appeared genuinely as scandalized by her accusations as she was by the debacle that had just ensued. And from her limited experience, the expressions, tone and words Snape always had for Penny were most assuredly not those of secret longing or even the faintest affection. If Snape had ever desired someone, Penny felt certain it had never been her.
However, Penny still couldn't get her head around why he'd done it. Surely he knew it would end in a giant nightmare, especially if someone decided to call Snape's bluff.
"Then make me understand what possessed you to throw out such an idea. Surely—"
"Wake up, Potter! Yaxley had you, he won! If it were not for him underestimating what a pain in the ass you are committed to being, you would already be tied up somewhere with his— you—pregnant by the new year—and he, he would—you'd never—If I'd only made it—but I didn't. One chance, Potter I had one! And I knew, if you had my name he would be forced to comply with custom," Snape raged in a garbled mess of incohesion. Penny stared at him wondering how he expected her to understand anything he'd just spewed when over half of his sentences were not even complete sentences.
"Custom? Why would someone like Yaxley care if I'm your betrothed or not, wouldn't that just make him want to hurt me more?" Penny said, feeling even more confused.
"You are not thinking! Who gave me your hand?"
"The Dark Lord?" Penny said, the question in her voice annoying him further.
"Yes! And the Dark Lord does not tolerate those who do not take his word as law."
"So that's why you proposed the unbreakable vow, he had no choice but to say yes," Penny muttered, feeling very impressed with her Professor, even if she disliked the methods he'd employed to tie Yaxley's hands. "Fine, you're clever, I'll give you that. But I feel like you did not think this entirely through because I doubt the Dark Lord is going to accept you've had a change of heart and I have zero intention of marrying you!"
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," he said, looking away from her to conveniently study the wall, a sure sign he did not want her to know he had not thought that far ahead.
"Excuse me, what?" said Penny, not liking his response in the least. "You realize this is kind of important, you know what a marriage entails, right?" Penny said, eyes wide with insinuation.
"Don't be so ridiculous, I would never lay a hand on you," came Snape's cold reply.
"It's not your hand I'm worried about," she glowered, looking purposefully down.
"That has about as much interest in you as I have affection for Black."
Penny wanted to burst out laughing at the remark, even at such a moment the petty man had to take a jab at her godfather. But she could not be sidetracked, so she ignored it.
"Even still, I don't much fancy living betrothed to you either, I have a girlfriend you know and what happens when people at school—"
"Perhaps your energy would be better spent actually getting back to school instead of caring about your social status!" he spat, turning back to her in his fury. "You are about to go before the Dark Lord, and whatever happens in there we are at his mercy. The smallest of slips will mean the end of both of us and I do not much fancy dying today, so you will put these insignificant discrepancies aside and grow up!"
"These aren't insignificant—" she tried to argue, but Snape stopped her in her tracks by grabbing either side of her face and holding it in his strong shaking arms. He looked down on her, his every atom pleading with her.
"I have risked it all— hundreds of lost lives will be meaningless if it ends here. You need to—I cannot do this alone. For once in your life, Potter, can you do exactly as I say and do not argue!" came his words, but they sounded more like the sounds one would expect to come from a strangled cat. "Please," he uttered after a short pause, his words barely audible.
A cold chill spiraled up Penny's arm, sending goosebumps springing into life. It was coming from Snape, the horrible dread, and it told Penny that she could not even begin to imagine what they were about to walk into, and judging by Snape's expression, that of a man who had seen it too many times before, she did not want to know.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and nodded.
"Whatever he asks of you, do without hesitation. Speak as little as possible, and do not lie. No matter what he asks, do not lie! Look at me so I know you understand." Lip quivering slightly, Penny met his gaze and nodded, every beat of her terrified heart reminding her she could not escape, they were on an escalator, and as much as she wished she could turn around, it continued to drag them upward, the top of which was an abyss where it would dump them into the gears beneath, crushing them alive, their insides becoming one. They knew if they survived, whatever came out on the other end would be unrecognizable, but he did not let her fall into that despair, instead trapping her in his dark eyes so she would not be paralyzed by the fear.
"I trust you," she said in a quiet, shaking voice, knowing he would force her out of the closet in a moment.
The words surprised them both. Penny had intended to thank him for what he'd risked for her, what he had done to spare her from Yaxley's cruelty, but her mouth, or perhaps her heart, had ignored the wishes of her brain and uttered those words instead.
His black eyes betrayed how the words unsettled him, searching the green for some lie, but he found none. Letting go of her, he returned the mask, the one that was both relieving and terrifying. She knew that he was prepared to do whatever was asked of him, had been prepared since he became the spy, meaning the only weak link was her. All his efforts relied on her.
Without a response, he turned, checked the hall and when it appeared clear, took her by the hand and dragged her down the grand halls. Her feet following after him and her mind blank, Penny realized she knew these halls when they passed a room to their right that she recognized as the place where the Midsommer festival had taken place. Heart racing at what Voldemort would do if he came to find out she'd been present, Penny shoved the thoughts aside and buried them in the back of her mind, hoping very much the memories would not return while she was in his presence.
Stopping outside a room at the end of a long, dark hall, Snape knocked and Voldemort bade him enter. They stepped into a dim-room with a fire crackling in the corner. Looking around, Penny felt suddenly disorientated. The room was oddly familiar, giving her dejavu. Aesthetically, the room was identical to the place in Penny's head she always met Tom, except the organization was flipped and the dimensions quite larger. How was such a thing possible? There was no way it could be, and yet, before her sat the same chince chairs, and a bar piled with an almost identical array of bottles.
The likeness unsettled her, even distracted her, but she was not given much time to dwell on it because Snape had already crossed the room and was kneeling before Voldemort, who stood at the fire, looking between the pair of them. The door behind Penny swung shut, the lock clicking, causing Penny to jump several feet into the air.
Voldemort tapped his fingers on the mantelpiece softly, his red eyes watching Penny. Uncertain what she was supposed to do, she remained where she was, staring at the ground, trying to get a handle on her fear, which had started to make an appearance in her shaking limbs.
"Come, Penelope," Voldemort said, not bothering to acknowledge Snape.
Penny's feet moved forward against her better judgment. Getting closer to Voldemort, in her mind, seemed the opposite thing she should do right now. But the fear in her compelled her to obey. "I daresay you remember Wormtail."
Penny looked up, having not noticed the rat-like man in the corner. His beady eyes were fixed on her, his expression filled with both anger and desire.
"Pay little mind to his rudeness, he was disappointed to learn of your engagement. You see, he was hoping for your hand," Voldemort said, cruel amusement in his voice. "This is a good learning moment, is it not, Wormtail? Behold, Severus, my most useful servant. Look how I reward him for his services. He came before me and asked for a wife—a Potter no less. The twin of the wretched boy who has gotten in my may thrice now. While I would enjoy nothing more than to peel her skin from her and send her piece by piece back to him. . . " he paused, circing her slowly, soaking in her terror as he did so. ". . .I won't do that. Do you know why that is, Penelope?" Voldemort asked, stopping his prowling to stand between her and Snape, where she could only see him from the corner of her eye, lest she turned and betrayed her warriness.
Penny shook her head, eyes fixed to the ground.
"You'll have to speak up, your betrothed can't hear you."
"N-no, I d-don't," Penny stuttered.
Voldemort clicked his tongue in disapproval, prompting Penny to add, "M-my Lord."
"Once I kill that brother of yours, you will be all that remains of a very old wizarding family. While your father was a fool choosing that mudblood,I would not wish to see such lineage lost for something as insignificant as Harry Potter. But I confess, that is not my only motivation."
Reaching his long, thin finger toward her, Penny winced, anticipating the pain that was to come but he stopped just shy, a soft chuckle leaving his lipless-mouth. "You are my blood now thanks to your brother," he said, simply. "Blood magic is very powerful, which makes you very valuable to me," he finished, thin finger connecting with Penny's chin and turning her head around to meet his gaze.
She grunted as pain exploded in her head, trying hard to focus on the red twinkling before her, the grotesque form spewing glee. He loved to bask in the power he held over her, to relish the fact his finger could command such pain. It satisfied him to watch her, a Potter, cowering before him in agony, completely powerless to oppose him.
It did not take long for Penny to crumple, landing on the floor, clutching her head and panting hard.
"This is why, Severus, I know only you can be trusted with my most valuable pet. Take her as a symbol of my confidence in your ability not to disappoint me."
"You honor me beyond words, my Lord," replied Snape.
"Before you do however, a single task remains," Voldemort said as the pain finally receded from Penny's brain and she managed to look over at the two men beside her. Snape the obedient servant, kneeling before his master and Voldemort towering over him, considering him carefully before looking at Penny again.
"Anything you ask of me, you know I will do."
"To demonstrate that your allegiance is to me alone, and that when the time comes you will do whatever I ask concerning the girl, you will give her my mark to signify that like you, she belongs to me."
"No!" Penny breathed, flopping backward onto her butt and trying to put distance between her and the monster looking back at her.
Snape's curtain of black hair shifted as he looked up at his master and uttered those three horrific words: "As you wish."
Surely it was a dream, one terrible dream and at any moment she would awaken to find herself in her bed, Fleamonts purring rumbling through her chest. There would be piles of annoying homework to do, and Harry groaning, having even more than Penny because he was awful at being organized. She would welcome the plea in his green eyes, give into his begging and do all his homework for him if only this could be a dream, if she could find herself far away from the sequence of events that continued on their collision course with her, Penny unable to get out of the way.
He was rising, taking out his wand, black robes billowing around him as he turned on Penny. Black eyes cold and vacant, looking at her and refusing to see her.
"Please, you don't— you really don't have to, I'll do anything," Penny pleaded, scrambling away, her eyes turning to Voldemort who trailed after Snape.
"Please!" Penny said again when she received no response, her voice faltering as her back collided with the table holding all the liquors. They clattered above her, a glass rolling off the side and shattering. And still he advanced, the world becoming smaller with every step he took.
Rolling over, Penny crawled beneath the table, trying desperately to get out of reach, to delay the inevitable but Snape knelt, a cold hand clamping around her ankle and pulled, dragging her along the cold wooden floor out into the open. Digging her nails into the floor, not caring when several were torn from their home, leaving a stinging bloody lump of skin behind, Penny tried to stop the progress, but it was no use, Snape was a full grown man at least twice Penny's size. Even on a good day when she hadn't been dragged from the Hospital Wing bed she stood no chance against his strength. But even if she had the strength, she could not bring herself to lash out at Snape, though his face was in range of her foot. She did not want to see him hurt even though he fully intended on harming her.
When she was free of the table, Snape forced her around onto her back, being much rougher than he had ever been before. He had lost his anger plenty of times in her company, but never had he used the full extent of his strength on her, and she knew it was a warning not to resist, to make this go as quickly as possible.
"You can't do this, I'm not a Death Eater," Penny shouted angrily up at Voldemort as Snape wrestled to subdue her thrashing. His hands caught her wrist with ease, taking her right hand and forcing it flat beside her, his knee coming up to pin it as he straddled her. Then he turned to her left hand and began forcing it out of her robes, unbuttoning the cuff, preparing to reveal the flesh he intended to mark.
"A moment, Severus, our young friend has a point. She is not one of my most trusted and therefore has not earned the honor to wear that mark there. You will put it on her chest above her heart," Voldemort's cold voice said, as he stood idly over them, watching Penny's pathetic attempts at resisting Snape as though it were any other form of entertainment.
Upon his master's bidding, Snape released Penny's hand and made for the buttons on her shirt, popping them one by one.
"You can't-it's permanent," Penny said, disbelief still making her desensitized to what exactly Snape was about to do, he was not playing, would not come to his senses and release her in a moment. He was going to give her the Dark Mark while Voldemort and Wormtail looked on, brand her as the property of the most evil wizard to ever be born.
Her left hand grabbed to his right wrist, green eyes trying to get his attention, some delirious part of Penny wanting to believe that if he'd only look at her, he'd relent, he'd have to. But he couldn't and she knew he couldn't, not with that deformed coward behind him. That creature that called himself a man but was nowhere near such a thing. His head tilted slightly, he watched them as though the spectacle before him were curious to him, something to be studied.
"Look at me!" Penny said, angrily. "If you are going to marr me for life, you could at least have the decency to look me in the eyes first!"
Still he refused, focusing on anything but her face, making fast work of her shirt and pushing it off her shoulders to give him a clear space to work.
"Severus!"
His eyes snapped to her face, the look on his telling her he very much regretted doing so. Both their struggles paused as they watched each other. Everything from his towering frosty countenance to the stony features that looked back at her frightened her, they were foreign, so different from the man she knew, the one she trusted. Even in his eyes, those eyes she knew so well, she found nothing familiar to her. There was none of the Potions Master in them, all that looked back at her was a cold indifference, a man she could no longer reach.
"There has to be another way," she whispered,
But it didn't matter if there was or not, his master had spoken and he would act—despite Penny's pleas. No longer was she Penny and he her Professor. He was the Death Eater, having taken an oath in his youth and swearing to do whatever was asked of him. And she, she, she was not Penny Potter, he could not let her be that. Instead she was a task, one to be completed lest he be punished.
Breaking their momentary truce he took her left hand and pinned it with his other knee and then lifted his wand, something springing from the ground beneath Penny and wrapping its way around her head, pinning her to the ground. Between Snape's weight on her abdomen and it, Penny could move very little, breathing proving to be even a difficult task.
A cold hand brushed the long red hair from her chest, the length of his wand grazing the area above her heart as his eyes tried to determine the dimensions of what he would put there.
As the helpless disbelief finally wore off, and the crushing weight of Snape and the turn things had taken settled in on her, Penny finally processed her reality, saw in a neat line the path her life had taken. She understood, seeing the universe open up to her, that she had been cursed long before Amycus slid his dagger into her gut. In truth, she'd been cursed since, for some reason unbeknownst to her, Voldemort had decided to single out Harry, determined he needed to die so he could go on ruling in all his cruelty. Whatever event had led Voldemort to her house that night, it had set Penny upon this path of endless misery.
How stupid had she been to think Death was looking for her. Why would Death take her and free her from her torment? If Death did have a grudge against her family, certainly denying her such relief was the better punishment. It was some joke, that after all Penny had endured, all she had suffered at the hands of others, that it would be the man who had picked her back each and every time who would be the one pinning her now, preparing to brand her, to cement forever the bond that had been formed between her and Voldemort the night he'd destroyed any chance at happiness Penny may have ever had.
Closing her eyes Penny felt herself become filled with an insatiable rage. A rage that did not care Snape had already begun muttering or that the smell of burning flesh had reached her nostrils.
"You're wrong if you think this stupid mark will make me yours. If anything, by marking me you're ensuring I will never stop fighting you, not until my brother finishes you off properly," Penny said through gritted teeth as she tried hard not to wince while Snape carved out the mark on her chest.
"Slower, Severus, we want Penelope here to remember what insolence earns her."
Her hands squirming beneath Snape's knees, she managed to twist her hand around just far enough so she could grasp his calves, her nails digging into his flesh in an attempt to help her manage the pain—keep the tears at bay. She refused to let Voldemort break her, refused to allow him to reduce her to a crying girl. But the pain was only intensifying, Penny finally letting out a loud yell and feeling lightheaded from the oxygen she wasted in doing so.
"I swear to Merlin you will regret the day you crossed my path," Penny yelled at the ceiling, as Snape trailed over a particularly painful spot. "You, you foul loathsome, evil little cockroach!"
"If you cannot have a happy marriage, Severus, at least you know it will never be dull. I myself take special pleasure in these little outbursts of hers. I do not think I have ever crossed paths with a more enticingly pathetic creature. But since I am feeling charitable, I'll share an important lesson with you, Penelope—only weak men feel the need to make threats because doing so only emphasizes how powerless you are."
"Oh yes, because I am to believe you are all powerful having your dog subdue a wandless girl?" Penny said with a hard laugh. "Take this collar off and find out exactly how powerless I am," she taunted, grunting in pain when Snape moved back over the tender flesh he'd just finished scarring as a warning to her for her mouth.
Squatting down beside her, a long hand reached out, but instead of finding her cheek this time, he reached for Snape's, doing gentle circles around it in a manner that felt utterly obscene to Penny. She watched in sickening silence as Snape continued on his work while Voldemort tucked his long curtain of black hair behind his ear so as to better reach the corners of Snape's mouth where he pressed firmly, demanding entry.
Without so much as turning from his work, Snape opened his mouth, allowing Voldemort to thrust his finger into the hott flesh within, Voldemort never taking his red eyes from Penny. He swirled, poked and even gagged Snape, all while soaking in her revulsion. This violation of Snape, display of complete ownership of the man Penny always believed to be so invincible, disgusted her more than every evil Penny had ever experienced at the hands of Yaxley. It struck at her core, making her wish she could curse the demon before her, make him stop, to get his hands off of him. But she could not, and it was this truth that frustrated her to tears, breaking her into the weak girl Voldemort believed her to be, because there was nothing more pathetic in his eyes than displays of love. The sight of it elicited a horrible, high-pitched laugh from Voldemort. "And there is the ruin of her facade, her love for you," Voldemort said, wiping the spit from his finger onto the cheek of Snape before occupying himself by playing with his shiny black hair as though he were some dog there to amuse him.
Unable to bear watching the exchange another moment, Penny looked away, hot tears falling down her cheeks as she squeezed them shut, biting her lip in an effort to take her mind off the pain in her chest. Surely he had to be close to finishing, the end of her agony must be near. But she could not focus on that, rather she consumed herself with the parts of Snape she could reach in an attempt to remind her it was all an act, Voldemort could not make her lose faith in Snape so easily. So she let herself be drawn to the humming coming from the left hand he had resting on her right shoulder in order to steady his work. Moving through those waves of energy, she searched for him, knowing he tried to impede her with that mote he liked to keep in his head, the one that allowed be blind to the sight of the crying, shaking girl he was mutilating.
Looking up toward the tower he hid within, she thought she saw something rustle at the window. Was he standing there, looking at her looking for him? Removed from the prying eyes of her captor and his master, far from the pain he induced and she endured, she called for him. He could sense her in his consciousness, and yet he did not shut her out, did not reject her like she'd feared. Instead, he offered her refuge, preparing a place for her and allowing her to cry, to find some relief from the pain— him never venturing too close, but always present.
In this place he could not separate them, nor steal the truth Penny so desperately wanted to believe—Severus Snape would never be Voldemort's. No matter what they had to endure, what they would suffer, they would always have something he could not touch.
The searing pain came to a stop, Penny's eyes red and blurry.
"An apt hand you have. But it needs the finishing touch," Voldemort said, looking over Snape's work lazily and extending his own wand, he pressed the tip against the bleeding flesh, a faint greenish-glow slowly encompassing the mark.
Unable to control her response to the pain any longer, Penny screamed, the pain intensifying threefold to Snape's as Voldemort worked, ensuring the mark was permanent, connecting it by whatever evil magic he used to himself. The connection felt like a violation, like he had robbed her of some essential part of herself and replaced it with a piece of himself that was jagged, demanding and ill fitting. It's presence made her feel tainted, unnatural even.
When he was finished, Penny was left in a slumped heap, struggling to breathe beneath the weight of Snape, her brain and body tired beyond comprehension.
"Now that we have that taken care of, you may go, Severus, I imagine you are expected elsewhere. Wormtail, retrieve Yaxley and have him wait outside, I have one other matter to attend to with our guest."
"Y-yes Master," Wormtail squeaked, giving Penny's bare chest a last despicable once over before scrambling for the door.
Snape merely nodded and released Penny's hands so he could get to his feet and be on his way, which Penny knew would be to Hogwarts, making her wish very much it was he she was departing with.
"So cruel, Severus, will you not give Penelope a kiss before you go? She is your betrothed now," Voldemort said in a soft voice.
Brows furrowed, Penny found the dark eyes looking down at her half clothed form, the faintest bit of self-loathing evident in them. Treachery sealed with a kiss, how like Voldemort, because her pain and humiliation would never be enough for one such as him.
Snape's face drew nearer, Penny not knowing where her heart found the energy to speed up and fill her with nerves. Long black hair tickled her neck and cheek, a wave of bergamont sweeping over her, filling her mind with a blissful haze. It was the smell of comfort, of all that which Penny held dear. She wondered momentarily what his lips would feel like, if they would feel as vile as the voice that demanded them to touch her; if they would seduce her as readily as quiet evenings with Ginny, or if they would break her heart like memories of kissing Cedric by the lake.
Slowly, and with more tenderness than Penny ever knew existed in all the world, Snape's lips pressed against her forehead, lingering just long enough for her to know how sorry he was. And then they were gone, he was on his feet, not bothering to put her shirt right or help her to her own. He was trailing away like he'd done so many times in his office when he'd gone into a rage, cloak billowing around his feet, steps louder than they needed to be. And then he was gone, shutting the door with a soft snap, leaving her alone to face her future with Voldemort, alone to survive whatever came next, whatever Yaxley would take from her.
Snape left her there at his master's feet, bloodied and broken by his own hand—a hand Penny spent so much time reaching for and he tried to warn her not to take.
I am a bad person, I KNOW. But this is VOLDEMORT. He has to be the worst of the worst. But as awful as it was,he really sealed the deal, didn't he? These two will never be broken!
But I am sorry, because Penny still has to go to the department of mysteries :( but did anyone notice the Hermione quote I threw in for some happiness? I do love a good Hermione quote!
sending all my love!