Unhappy Endings

164: Loyal Black Woman

"I do love seeing her turn colors, Severus! No wonder you were drawn to such a being!" With just a swoosh of shadow, the dark lord was suddenly behind you. "How could I resist the heirloom wand of the Blacks?"

Forcing the grey from your face, you confidently handed the evil creature your wand. Having not used it since your own Hogwarts education, you didn't have as deep of a connection to it. "Yew. Basilisk Skin. Inflexible." You repeated.

"If so eager to share, why did you not volunteer?" You felt the oily eyes glide over you. "Fiercely protective, the owner of a yew wand is. Yet, you give it up in an instant once I ask."

"Sentimental value, I suppose." You postulated. "Willing, but not overly eager. A lesson some of us Blacks learned." As your eyes slid over to Bellatrix, you made it clear how you wanted to be perceived for your earlier reaction. She hissed in return but slumped back in her chair. After all, she did not offer her wand.

Voldemort's eyes continued to roam your body, giving you a more acute sense of discomfort. Risking a glance at Severus, you instantly raised the shields in your mind. No one needed to know how you felt about this. No one needed to know that you were sick to your stomach being so close to one so evil. No one needed to know the desperation you had to be back in your husband's arms.

"Crucio."

You clenched your eyes shut as you prepared for the horrible torrent of pain. Yet, it didn't come. Risking glances again, you noted that no person was writhing in pain.

"Look me in my eyes." Voldemort demanded. You could felt that white-hot anger building as you locked eyes with the dark lord. "Crucio," he whispered. Yet, your wand did not betray you. Voldemort narrowed his eyes and then tossed your wand to the floor behind him. "Pick. It. Up."

"Please excuse me, my lord." You politely attempted to push your chair back without hitting him. Walking close to him, yet still around him, you crouched down to retrieve your wand.

"Ah-ah." He shook his head and grasped your shoulder. "Proper Black women do not crouch. Pick it up properly and I shall not be asking again." Pushing back the bile rising in your throat, you stood and bent at the waist towards the table to retrieve your wand. With another sickening swoosh of shadow, Voldemort was now behind you and his sickening white hand was gracing your left hip. Your entire body flushed scarlet, now frozen with oppressive magic. "Oh, look how this proud Black woman becomes angry before fearful! Fiercely loyal, yes Severus!" Voldemort cackled widely as other death eaters attempted to join in the laughter.  "Severus, my friend, what color does she turn when you take her? Let us in, so we can know when our precious, loyal Black woman is in need of her husband!"

Humiliation. You realized that he had been humiliated that your wand rejected him. And now that humiliation would be paid back to you two-fold.

"She turns no color." Severus had an entirely apathetic voice and his eyes held nothing but bored indifference. "When I take her, she knows it is her duty as a precious, loyal Snape. And duty has no color, as it is her entire being."

Narrowing his eyes slightly at his slightly insubordinate second, Voldemort gave up on the humiliation. "Would you volunteer your wand then? If you are a dutiful and loyal Snape?"

"Of course I would. Please, my lord, it would be an honor." Before anyone could even blink, your husband was handing over his wand. It was the smallest ask for the release of his wife. He would give so much more.