Chapter 21

Snake Binds

August 15, 1997

I descended the stairs slowly. My gaze found Draco first: he avoided my eyes; He stared fixedly at a point directly above my head, looking terrified. I had a plan to keep Professor Snape out of trouble, but it would only work if Draco could keep his mouth shut. He mustn't tell anyone how Professor Snape lied about my presents in the house. Could I trust him to do that? I must. If he ever cared for me at all he would keep my secret.

I looked at Professor Snape; he looked back, fuming as if he would rather kill me himself than let Voldemort do it.

"I am ready," I told them as I reached the downstairs landing. I was no longer looking at the professor, but I could feel his glare cut into me like a knife. I held out my arm wordlessly, waiting for one of them to take me in alongside apparition. Professor Snape grabbed my wrist. I felt his fingernails digging into my flesh.

I allowed myself to glance up at Professor Snape; he grimaced down at me. I hoped he would miss me when I am dead.

We spun on the spot and apparated.

When my feet found ground again, we were on the door step of large manor house. The professor continued to grasp my wrist even more tightly.

Draco knocked on the large, dark door in front of us; it slid open with a creek.

A large Deatheater stood in the doorway. "What is it?" he asked in a rough tone.

"We brought the girl," Draco answered weakly. The Deatheater quickly move aside to let us through.

Inside the house the light was dim. The walls were painted the color of blood. I moved closer to Professor Snape as I heard the front door shut; I prayed he would not let go of my wrist.

Portraits lined the walls. They stared at us from within their dark canvases as we walked down a long hallway.

We reached a set of mahogany door at the end of the hall. I could hear whispers coming from behind it. Draco paused as he reached for the door knob; Professor Snape took over and pushed the door open without hesitation; he lead me inside and Draco followed.

The room went completely silent as we entered. There were Deatheaters everywhere and they all turned to face me.

This room was just as dark as the other. A few candles floated above, but the most light was being produced by the blue flames dancing in a huge fireplace, casting unforgiving shadows along the dark walls.

A grand arm chair stood in front of the fire. I could see the legs of the man who sat there, but the height of the chair's back blocked the man's face from view. But I had a pretty good idea of who sat there.

Above the fireplace there was a large portrait of a family all with sleek blonde hair. The family consisted of two stern looking parents and their son. The Draco in the portrait looked just as terrified as the real Draco. I pitied him for having to share his house with all these Deatheaters, but then I remembered to pity myself, for I was about to die.

I could only hear the sounds of breathing. I wished that they would just get on with it.

Then I heard a thud as something very large fell onto the floor. My heart dropped into my stomach as a giant snake slithered towards us. Strange hissing noises were coming from the man in the armchair; the snake stopped right in front of me, looking up, as if waiting for something.

A chill seemed to come over the room as the man in the armchair stood up. My hand felt numb; Professor Snape was cutting off my circulation with his grip on my wrist.

From behind the man almost looked normal; he was tall, slender and bald. I was not sure if it was just because of the dim lighting, but the man's skin was that of a corpse, so pale that it was almost blue.

A gasp escaped my lips as the man turned and revealed his face to me. I wanted to cry as I looked upon it thinking that that was the last thing I would ever see. The man had no nose, just slits like a snake. His eyes glowed red.

He looked upon me with his red eyes and then the skin stretched across his face as he smiled. It was such a cruel, horrible smile that not even death itself could erase it from my memory.

He then focused on Professor Snape. The professor did not even flinch at the Dark Lord's gaze.

"Severus," spoke Lord Voldemort. His voice was high pitched and cold like an icicle through the heart.

"My Lord," Professor Snape said coolly. He smiled slightly at Voldemort as if it was a great honor to be in his presents.

"You brought me the girl and so quickly too," said Voldemort, "very good, very good.

"Thank you, My Lord," said the professor.

I was so aware of the whole room. I could feel the power that Voldemort had over everyone. He was like a magnet; I could feel the pull of attention he was commanding from his Deatheaters as they hung on his every word. I sensed the snake at my feet; I could almost feel its impatience as it continued to wait.

Draco was still beside me, his breathing was sharp and quick; he seemed to be more frightened than I was.

I was so close to Professor Snape. Though, I knew that he could not protect me, I felt almost comforted. The warmth of his body seemed to shield me from the icy voice and evil stare of Lord Voldemort.

"Step back, Draco," said the Dark Lord, "You too, Severus. Let me stand alone with my young friend."

Draco couldn't have obeyed faster, but Professor Snape took his time. He moved away from me slowly and at the last possible moment he let go of my wrist.

My arm fell limply at my side. It felt so cold without him, like I had been thrown into a blizzard. I did not dare look back at the professor in fear of giving away my position.

Lord Voldemort walked towards me. I wanted to run more than anything. Voldemort made some more hissing sounds as he spoke parseltongue. I shuttered as the giant snake at my feet responded by wrapping its long, thick body around my ankles. The snake's grip was so tight and it was so strong, there was no chance of me ever getting away; I was its prisoner.

Voldemort stood directly in front of me. I tried to look down, but one of his cold white hands reached out and grabbed my throat, pushing my chin up, forcing me to look him in the eye.

"You live," hissed Lord Voldemort, "why?"

I opened my mouth, but it took a couple of seconds before I could actually say anything. "I am an Antilegilimens," I said in a weak, high pitched voice.

"I know that," said the Dark Lord, his eyes flashing with impatient and his voice rising in volume, "But why do you live?" He grasped my throat harder.

"None of the unforgivable curses work on me," I choked.

Voldemort released my throat. I gasped for air.

"How is that possible?" Voldemort asked. When he released me from his clutches I seemed gain some of my bravery back. I looked him straight in the eye willingly; I could see his curiosity and his greed.

I thought of Professor Snape and remembered why I was here in the first place; I felt suddenly braver. "No magic can penetrate my brain," I said stronger than before.

"Go on," pressed the Dark Lord greedily.

Hate could not even describe my feelings as I looked Lord Voldemort in the face. In a way I almost felt happy; Voldemort wanted me to join him and by dying I was depraving him of what he desired. In some twisted way it made me feel like I have the hand up over him.

I smiled at him. "The imperius curse obviously directly affects the brain, but not mine of course," I said almost braggingly. "The cruciatus curse," I continued, "triggers the part of the brain that makes us feel pain, so it cannot affect me."

"And Avada Kedavra," prompted the Dark Lord, growing even more gluttonous.

I suddenly felt powerful like Lord Voldemort. I was the magnet. Everybody in the room clung to my words. "It affects the brain as well," I said.

"How?" asked Voldemort, fiercely.

"Avada Kedavra," I paused, trying to speak slowly and precisely like Professor Snape, "does not stop the heart directly; it sends a message to the brain telling it to stop the heart for beating and then you die."

"But it cannot kill you," said Voldemort.

"No," I said roughly. "I just pass out when the curse hits me, so if you want to kill me, I suggest that you get more creative."

Lord Voldemort smiled at me in amusement. He reached out and stroked my hair gently. "That could be easily arranged," he said softly into my ear. Then he glanced down at the snake wrapped around my ankles.

I felt my eyes widen. Was he going to feed me to his snake? I wondered. I hoped that whatever method he used to do me in would be quick, but then I remembered who I was dealing with.

Voldemort hissed something to his snake and I winced, ready to be bitten, but the snake released me and slithered away resentfully.

Voldemort smiled at me once again. I wished that his face was not the last thing I would ever see, but I wouldn't close my like a coward. Lord Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it right at my heart. I was honestly curious about how he was going to do it.

You know, it is a weird feeling knowing that you are about to die; I felt like it should have been a bit more monumental than this.

"Avada Kedavra," the Dark Lord shouted triumphantly.

Everything went black.