Penny Potter may be the twin of Harry Potter but she does not share his proclivity for a hatred of the Potions Master, Severus Snape. Likewise, Snape finds, despite his better efforts that Penny has become dangerously intertwined in his life. Given...
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The tendrils wrapped around Penny's head began to move again, twisting along her to secure the arms and legs that were now free because Snape had gone. She winced as they skirted along her mark, her heart filling with dread as she wondered what Voldemort could possibly want from her now.
He watched her quietly for a long moment, and then he knelt down, his red eyes moving from her face to the hideous mark he'd just forced Snape to etch into her chest. A faint smile touched his thin lips, a long finger skirting the bleeding mess almost tenderly.
"I do hope you won't begrudge him for this. Not when such a display of loyalty will not be forgotten by me. Those who serve me well are always rewarded, and the rewards of your betrothed shall also be yours."
Penny could not respond being too preoccupied with trying to contain the yell that wanted to escape her lips due to his finger setting the mark on her chest ablaze, Penny certain if he did not move it soon then it would burn right through her. Voldemort cared little for the agony he induced, and in callous disregard slowly traced the outline of the mark, ending at the snake's head that sat atop her sternum.
"Much has changed since our last meeting, Penelope. You'd have heard how that dear brother of yours was kind enough to help return to my corporeal form; a plan I was not sure would come to fruition after Wormtail let you slip through our clutches. It was a most perplexing debacle, one he remained woefully unable to explain. It left me curious, how is it you escaped, hmm?" he said, softly, removing his finger.
Eyes watering from pain, Penny looked into red as a sense of confusion flooded her.
"I-I don't know," she stammered, racking her brain for any trace of the memory. It was a question she had failed to ask when she'd woken after the foolhardy endeavor to get her own memories back. Perhaps Snape had wanted to ask the same question, though he never vocalized it, but given Penny's state, he likely did not think it was the right time to push such a topic. Whatever the answer, the truth of it remained somewhere locked up inside of her.
"A fortunate pity. You will understand that I have to take a look myself—if someone were to have helped you and erased your memories so I would not find out, well I can't leave them among my ranks, can I? But fret not, seeing as I just gifted you to my most useful servant, I shall tread delicately."
Penny only had a split-second to contemplate how awful it would be to have Voldemort enter her mind before a terrible prodding sensation in her head made the world around her begin to blur together. She tried to push back against the sensation, but it merely prodded harder, pushing past her with ease and sending an explosion of pain into her brain. Her yell of protest and agony was drowned out by the sound of rushing wind filling her ears.
It took a long moment before Penny realized that she was no longer looking up into the face of Voldemort and that in his place stood a street lamp. Blinking several times as though it would somehow help her make sense of what she was looking at, Penny sat up slowly, looking around and realized she was sitting on the familiar street she had watched Dumbledore walk in search of a memory—her memory; Penny had been forced into her own mind, yet again. It was strange how foreign it felt to her, it almost gave her the creeps. Shouldn't she know herself better? Though she felt connected to most of what she saw before her, there were things creeping at the edges, things she did not want to get a better look at or acknowledge were a part of her.
