Chapter 4
A/N: Hi readers! Thanks for reading my story and for keeping up with it! It means a lot! So, I was wondering if you had any input on my story. Anything you'd like to see differently? Anything that bothers you? I am very open to any suggestions you have-just leave a review for me! Thanks.
"Sil, no." Walking to Silwen, he put an arm around her waist, and they walked to her bed, and sat on it. Subconsciously, Draco's fingers laced them through hers. That was permissible in front of her uncle.
"I have made my decision, Draco. I cannot go back on it." Exhaling in jolts, she leaned into Draco's chest and closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating on calming her heart.
Severus stood in front of his niece and Draco, warning them. "It is likely that our conversation is not private." Eyes tight, the girl nodded.
"Uncle. I-I am so sorry. For everything. I-it's my fault for this. I will try to fix it."
Severus took a chair concealed in the corner of the room, dragged it over and lowered himself onto it, looking intently at Silwen. "This is not your fault."
Gently, Draco started to rub Silwen's hands, saying. "You know what I'd tell you, Sil. Do it." "Draco, be silent," snapped Snape. Worried eyes turn angry as they receive the rebuke from their old Potionsmaster, but Draco was silent.
"Silwen, the Unbreakable Vow you made with Voldemort was something I would have expected from someone like Potter! Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"
Silwen's eyes now turned stormy. "I couldn't leave you unprotected and this was the only way I knew I could do it! Uncle, the simple promises I make are exactly like an Unbreakable Vow, and you know it! So, yes I know exactly what I've done! This way, at least, I'm on equal grounds with the Dark Lord!" Silence. Biting her lip, she continued in a softer voice, "I cannot even imagine life without the two of you. I'd rather die. It was the only way I could think of to secure your safety." As she spoke, tears slid down her pallid face; Silwen left them there, wanting to keep her hands in Draco's for as long as possible. With a sense of finality, she said, "I love you, Uncle, Draco. If you died because of me..."
"Shhh," murmured Draco, his eyes, too, were wet.
Rising from the chair, Severus sat on the bed, next to Silwen's free side. They didn't touch each other except for their shoulders pressing against one another since the tiny children-sized bed was barely able to hold the three of them. Yet he looked at her straight on, not wavering for a millisecond. "You are a Snape. Remember what I taught you before you could hardly speak. Intelligence, cunning, spellwork, and Occlumency."
Softly, Draco distanced himself a few inches, and for a fleeing moment, Severus pressed Silwen tightly to his side, wincing when she wrapped her arms around him with the strength of an anaconda-or that of a very, very frightened girl.
After allowing this for several moments, Severus then deliberately pushed Silwen away. He nodded at Draco, who hugged her to him once more, flinching at the force of her arms winding around his waist.
Silwen-who was absolutely traumatized of physical contact-clung to Draco. Clung to him as if he was her savior. "I-I love you," he whispered, his voice breaking, tear drops landing on Silwen's hair. He couldn't save her. He knew that. But the truth was still excruciating. He was incapable of saving her beloved from saving him. Sticks and stones may have broken his bones, but the truthful words felt like they damned his soul. He couldn't protect Silwen.
His arms drew Silwen closer to him, trying to calm the shudders that Silwen couldn't stop herself from having.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, Driiinnngggg!
"Your time is finished. Bellatrix, escort these two back to their 'room'." Voldemort and Bellatrix stood in the doorway once more, leering. Panic began to rise inside of Silwen; instinctively, she grabbed Draco's hand.
"No. No! Please. A few more minutes! D-don't take-" She stopped suddenly, looking at Severus, and bit her tongue, ashamed of her desperate pleading, but still refusing to let go of Draco, who looked quite alarmed at the terror ringing clear as a bell in Silwen's voice.
"Let go of him, you brat, or I will put the Cruciatus Curse on him!" smirked Bellatrix.
Instantly, she dropped Draco's hand. "It's going to be all right, Sil. You're going to be ok," he said before Bellatrix shoved him forward.
"Don't you dare put your life in more trouble than it is, do you hear me?" snapped Snape, his worry coming out in fury. Tears started coursing down her cheeks, and she attempted to run after them, only to be grabbed by Voldemort.
"NO!" she shrieked as Bellatrix forced them down the corridor-away from Silwen.
Struggling against the unyielding hold of the Dark Lord, she sobbed quietly, pressing away from her captor with all of the feeble strength she had left. "It is time for you to go and fetch me my wand, little Slytherin," Voldemort whispered, straining slightly to keep Silwen from breaking free.
"Stop this idiocy, girl. Now." That only made Silwen struggle harder, finally breaking free, only to collapse on the ground, tripping over her own feet. Again, she found herself at the Dark Lord, crumpled on the floor. "Get up!" he snarled, kicking viciously her in the chest. Silwen pretended not to hear-nor feel the injury-and pressed the locket to her chest with her hand. Focusing on how warm it felt gave her a pinch of strength, helping her to get to her knees. Keeping her eyes on the ground, she waited for her lungs to remember how to breathe.
Sharp fingernails gripped her forearms, dragging Silwen to her feet, then let go once she was standing. Still, she didn't look up; her lungs had barely recalled their purpose.
"Follow me," hissed Voldemort, letting go of Silwen, and striding over to a door at the hallway's other end. Unfortunately, Silwen didn't have the strength to stand on her own two feet yet. Her knees simply collapsed back onto the floor, not caring anymore if it angered Lord Voldemort.
Realizing that no footsteps besides his were heard, he swirled around. Walking back to Silwen, he bent down, grabbed her, his fingernails pricking her like a large, sharpened needle, and forced her to lean on his side. "Walk," he spat. She moaned, but had no energy to resist any further. Reaching the door, Voldemort opened it, then thrust Silwen outside, who stumbled, but managed to hold onto the outside wall. "If you haven't yet figured out where you are, you are at Malfoy Manor. From here you will fly as close as you can to Hogwarts, go to Dumbledore's grave, take the wand, contact me, then return here."
"How am I going to contact you with no wand?" she whispered.
Reaching into his robes, Voldemort pulled out Silwen's wand, taunting her. "No, you will not be given your wand back. Not until you come back with the Elder Wand. You will use the Elder Wand to contact me," he said, dangling her own want in front of her. The Dark Lord stepped outside of the house, so close to her that if Voldemort had a nose, their noses would have only been inches away.
Dropping her eyes, her fingers tried implored the frosty wall to protect her from Voldemort. "Mr. Riddle, I can hardly stand. You expect me to fly tonight?" Slap! "Ah!" she moaned, her strength too dilapidated to even muster a scream, even though she didn't lose her grip on the wall.
"Do not use my father's name, ingrate!" he hissed, eyes narrowing to livid slits. Despite his frozen fury, his skeletal index finger slowly stroked the contour of Silwen's face with convoluted grace. Whimpering softly, she closed her eyes, begging for the contact to stop. "Do not damage the Wand, little Slytherin, or I will kill your uncle and release his soul from the Manor." Her muscles jolted, and she found herself standing straighter than the edge of a peice of parchment. Leaning to whisper in her ear he murmured, "Remember that when you think of trying to outwit the Dark Lord." Entwining his finger in a thick curl her hair, he went on speaking. "Don't be so naive, little Slytherin. Nothing escapes the notice of the Dark Lord."
Not looking at his horrid eyes, Silwen retorted, "My uncle did-for several years."
Yank! Voldemort grabbed more of her hair, pulled vehemently, and set her off balance, causing her to fall into his chest. Knees going weak, she started to slip to the ground, only to be caught by his other arm and raised once more into his chest.
"I think I've found enough energy to leave, Mr. Riddle-ah..." Sharply, Voldemort cut her with one of his fingernails.
"Do not call me that again," he hissed. In vain, Silwen attempted to disentangle herself out of her new prison, but to no avail, Voldemort merely manacled her more and more tightly the more she tried. Finally, she surrendered. "I give you the choice of leaving tonight on foot or going tomorrow by broom, and spending the night here."
"I-I'll g-I'll go now. Just please, please, let go of me..." "Very well," he responded, voice more chilling than a banshee's cry.
Thwump. Crumpled on the ground, Silwen felt much sicker than she had after the Cruciatus Curse. It was futile now to do anything but lie there. It was obvious that she couldn't get up-let alone fly to the Hogwarts grounds. Kneeling down, Voldemort cleared her face of hair, combing through it with his fingers-they were perfect comb teeth: ivory-colored, skinny, and harsh with the knots. While Voldemort played with his prey, his prey lay there, curled up like a sleeping infant having nightmares so terrifying that she couldn't wake from them. Vainly, she tried to remember how to breathe without her voice breaking into a sob.
"What are your thoughts about leaving now?"
"I will sleep here, outside. Leave me alone, p-please," she pleaded, barely louder than a child's whisper.
Quickly, the Dark Lord rose, saying, "Be gone by daybreak." Silwen nodded and Voldemort, satisfied, went back inside.