A/N: Welcome! Another rough draft chapter, sorry!
Voldemort's nails dug into Silwen's forearm, drawing a spiraling bracelet around it in crescent shapes just as her necklace dried. Wind whipped her, making her squint and tug tears from her eyes as Voldemort flew across the English country side without a broom. Looking down at her, he smirked, and started to descend in front of a rotting house. Covered in ivy, broken windows everywhere, and cobwebs barring their entrance, Silwen wondered what they were doing here.
"My Lord? Where are we?" she dared to whisper, opening her eyes when they were on ground.
"We are in front of my mother's home, little Snape. Come. We are going inside." He let go of her, magicked the door open and pushed her forward.
Passing the the front door, she shuddered as she noticed the snake skeleton on the door.
"The work of my dear uncle as a boy. He too was a Parstlemouth as young Potter and I are," murmured Voldemort, his voice shaking on the last word. Noticing that, Silwen wondered. Ever since he had arrived, while Eilonwy was causing a distraction, Voldemort seemed...unsettled. If she didn't know better, she'd have said he was afraid. However, Lord Voldemort did not fear anything.
"What are we doing here, my Lord?" she asked stepping around the filthy house.
"Stand there and tell me if anyone comes here," snapped the Dark Lord, kicking things off the floor and ripping the floor boards out. Soon the house was ransacked and he hadn't found it. The ring. It was gone. After he had dismissed the girl, a goblin had informed him that Potter had broken into Gringotts and had stolen a cup. Fury shot through him as he continued to search for his precious ring, irreplaceable. It had to be here. It must. But it wasn't. That was obvious. "Crucio!" shouted, pointing his wand at Silwen who dropped to the floor shrieking for it to stop. The ring was gone. Perhaps Dumbledore had made the connection between his name and the Gaunt house. Perhaps he had told Potter. The cave. That was now crucial.
Nagini was safe with him, watching the girl writhe, his diary had been destroyed-how had he not felt that?-the cup was in Potter's possession, and his ring was gone. Did he know about the others? Nagini, diary, cup, the ring, what if he had known about the locket? and Hogwarts? The boy couldn't possibly know. No one knew except for himself. No one.
His eyes focused, looking around. Ah, the girl was still under the curse, now hardly twitching. Carelessly, he lifted the torture and allowed her to remain motionless on the decrepit floor. Nagini looked at him, curious, hungry. "She is not food," he murmured in Parsletongue, walking over and picking the girl up in his arms. "Nagini, we are leaving."
Once more wind howled in pain as he cut through it, flying to the cave. In his arms he felt Silwen stir, the wind snatching her breath from her, killing her whimper when she felt his arms holding her. She lay there, knowing that if she fell out, she'd fall to the ground, most likely to her death. And she couldn't die yet. Not before the Dark Lord had fallen.
Cold wind bit through them, avenging itself. They stood on the cliff, looking at the cave's entrance. "Follow me, little Slytherin." Having no choice, she trailed after him entering the cave. When they reached a stone blocking the way, he snapped, "Hold out your arm." Drawing out a knife, he ran it across her wrist lightly, like it was a feather. "Ah," she moaned, cringing. Voldemort let her blood drip on the rock, and it moved away. "We are not finished here yet. After me."
He led her through a dreary cave filled with foreboding stalagmites, and stalactites sharper than the Dark Lord's knife. Soon, they reached a lake. At the side bobbed a small boat. Voldemort walked to it, told her to get in and got in himself and started rowing. Her eyes roved around the cavern, noticing an eerie green glow from the center. A stone sort of something...They drew nearer and nearer to it, the boat finally touching the ground surrounding the green thing, which she saw now was a stone cauldron with a potion inside. So that was the glow.
Voldemort walked up to it, conjured a cup and pressed it into her hands, taking her hand and drawing her near like a parent taking a naughty brought child to see Father Christmas. "Drink," he ordered, putting the cup in her hands. "Drink until the cauldron is empty. Start now!"
On his orders, she put her cup into the cauldron, filled it and began to drink. Instantly, she relived her uncle's death. "No!" she shouted as he fell again and again. "No, Uncle I'm so sorry! I'm-"
"Drink!" shouted the Dark Lord once more. "I will not repeat myself!"
Silwen continued to drink, reliving memories of Lucie's death, Draco's tormenting, the muggle children's bullying, and Voldemort. Endless memories of Voldemort mixed with the Master. All her worst ones, circling around and around her head. She had never seen or heard of a potion like this. And she wanted it to end. But her hand kept diving and making her drink more and more. Another time, her uncle died and she was helpless to defend him. "No!" she cried incessantly, until the Dark Lord hissed, "Silence! Finish drinking." Putting her cup inside the cauldron a last time, she drank, shaking, mouthing empty apologies, shuddering from past attacks.
The potion gone, Voldemort looked inside. It was empty. Screeching in fury, he dragged the senseless girl back inside the boat. Hogwarts. He had to save that one before Potter got to it-and suddenly Voldemort saw a flash of Potter's mind, felt Potter see what he had seen, hear what he had just thought. Now the boy knew. Well, the battle had already been chosen to be there. Now, he'd lead it, make sure that he'd secure the horcrux and finish Potter off there. Tonight, Potter would die. Tonight this ended.
He got out of the boat, Nagini slithering out, and carrying Silwen in her coils. Bending down, Voldemort picked her up, conjured a glass of water and forced it down her throat. Spluttering, Silwen coughed and slowly regained her steadiness.
"We are going to Hogwarts, little Slytherin. And there, you will watch as I kill your hero."
"That's impossible, my Lord," she whispered, "You already did."
Voldemort smacked her sharply and gripped her arm again. The wind beat against them as he rose into the air and started to fly to his first home. The first place he felt like he belonged. The perfect place to end everything, to kill the Boy who Lived.
"Come, little Slytherin," he murmured. When they stopped flying, Silwen stepped away from him, trying to get her stutters into a normal breathing pattern. However, it wasn't working that well; Silwen could feel his watching her every step, smirk at her every breath. "Watch my army gather here, watch us destroy this little rebellion before it even begins!" he hissed, standing behind her, his breath in her ear.
In minutes, the army was assembled. Giants, werewolves, masses of vampires, and of course Death Eaters, inferi and Dementors. Truly, this was the largest army that would annihilate every last speck of hope and idea of rebellion. He looked at the front, nodding at Bellatrix and the Malfoys. Even Draco had come.
"Long live the Order!" Silwen shouted to the army.
Arm raising, Voldemort made out to slap the insolence off her mouth but stopped abruptly and turned the slap into a stroking of her cheek. "Act as if this is natural," he snapped, snaking an arm around her waist and holding her tightly to his side as if they were lusting paramours. Inside her, Silwen's shudder and terrified gasp died before they could even be born. Melting to his side, she leaned into him, feeling Draco's horrified eyes on her back. "Act as if you love until they leave, little Snape or Draco's parents will die here-before the battle starts."
Silwen nodded and put on an adoring face as the Dark Lord turned to face the other direction. As if she was a marionette controlled by strings from above, her arm wrapped around Voldemort's waist. Mentally, she cried, horrified and revolted at what she was doing. Never, had he been so physically connected and close to her. Never. Glancing at Draco, she saw her own hidden fear mirrored in his eyes. When he caught her gaze, his expression shifted into one of determined bravery. I'll get you out of this, he seemed to say. Inconspicuously, she shook her head. Don't. Don't you dare, she replied, her face hardening.
"Little Slytherin, your expression isn't romantic," said the Dark Lord, bending down to her height, his lips on her ear. "Look at me the way you look at Draco, until our guests leave." He rose again, smirking as he watched Silwen's expression of fright change into one of love. ''Better, little Snape."
To her surprise, the mass of thousands of Death Eaters and other creatures parted in the middle, letting three figures pass through them. Black cloaks swirling around them in the wind, three men, paler than death itself.
"Ah, Lord Voldemort! It is a pleasure to see you again," called the leader.
"And I you, Marcus, Caius and Aro. I am honored that the three of you have come! I expected another...envoy," replied Voldemort approaching them as the three vampires approached Voldemort.
"We have come to add to your force, Voldemort, as we speak they are lining up and will help until the battle is over."
Nodding courteously, Voldemort said, "Thank you, you are very generous, Volturi. But surely, you did not have to make the travel?"
Aro laughed, "No, but we wished to meet your new girl, Silwen Snape."
"Ah, that can be done. Aro, Marcus, Caius, I present to you Silwen Snape, my fiancee...A very honest girl she is, and a powerful witch."
Surprise flickered onto Aro's face."Engaged? You, Lord Voldemort, engaged? ... You have my congratulations!" he said, shaking Voldemort's hand before Voldemort could avoid his touch then smiling. "Oh, clever, Mr. Riddle. Thinking if you could be engaged, I wouldn't take her from you? Well, now I most certainly will. Unless you let me take more of her blood with me, of course," chided Aro chuckling. He reached for Silwen's hand, but Voldemort drew her away.
"You will not take her from me, Aro. However, if it's blood you want, then I might be generous if you are willing to let your fighters stay with me," replied Voldemort smoothly. To Silwen he said, "Drop the act, Silwen, step away from me, and proffer your wounded arm to Aro."
Faltering, Silwen did as she was told, her dried blood cracking as she stretched her skin. The taughtness cracked, new blood spilling from the place Voldemort had cut her. Greedily, Aro held a bottle under the cut, catching the stream of blood. Muttering something, Voldemort pointed his wand at the bottle and said, "That bottle now can be filled to eternity, Aro. However, I want her alive."
Aro nodded then, catching Silwen as she collapsed. He continued to hold her and the bottle to her for a minute longer then stopped. Voldemort flicked his wand at the wound and sealed it. "Thank you, Silwen. My my, child. I never knew you have gone through so much...Perhaps you'd like to spend a small sejour in Italy someday? We'd love to host you, child for a week or two."
Silwen shook her head and stepped away, only to collapse on the ground and find herself in Voldemort's arms again. She moaned and struggled desperately to get out of his arms. Laughing softly, he allowed her to escape him and lie on the ground, watching her shudder, gloating. "So, Aro, you have enough to let your army stay here?"
Aro nodded and turned. "Marcus, Caius, we are leaving. Oh, Silwen, I thought you might like to know. We let Edward and Bella go home. As we speak, they are back in Washington, free of us. ... Now, we must be going. Voldemort, please send out vampires back as soon as you have won. Thank you and good luck to you and your battle." With that, they disappeared in a silent flash of wind.
"It is time," hissed Voldemort in Silwen's ear, chuckling at her moan. "Get up, little Slytherin and walk with me into the soon to be valley of death." Standing, he waited for the girl to get to her feet then shouted using a Sonorus charm, "It is time! Fight loyal servants!"
Around Hogwarts, a large force field covered it in a large, thick dome. But that was easily gotten rid of. With a flash of his wand, Voldemort broke the dome. "Charge!" he shouted, dragging Silwen with him as he flew down to the castle.