The Last Gryffindor (Sirius Black)

Chapter XXIX: He Who Overcomes By Force

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He who overcomes by force, hath overcome but half his foe.
—JOHN MILTON

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"You say you have important news to relay, my loyal friend."

Aeliana glanced up from where she knelt before Voldemort, and a part of her wished she hadn't. He rested leisurely on some perverted approximation of a throne, caressing his massive, coiling snake, Nagini, with long, careless strokes. His crimson irises seemed to peer right through her, so much so that she had to keep reminding myself that  they couldn't. It was impossible. She was as skilled an Occlumens as any. Voldemort would have had better luck trying to read Ancient Greek than to peer into her head.

Regardless, Lia tore her eyes away from the disturbing scene before her in a flutter of blonde lashes, looking instead to the the floor, the picture of subservience.

"I do my Lord. I have information," Lia declared haughtily, or at least she hoped it came off that way. She was actually scared out of my mind. "Specifically, about a traitor in our midst."

All movement about the expansive auditorium ceased as its occupants tuned in curiously, though Severus stilled for different reasons altogether. Never one for fidgeting, his muscles tensed so thoroughly it was as though he'd been carved out of marble. For the sake of avoiding suspicion, Aeliana didn't meet his gaze, despite his glaring attempts to meet hers. She couldn't let Voldemort think they were in cahoots, even if it was true. 

Voldemort paused mid-stroke, his long, spider-like fingers unmoving against Nagini's diamond shaped head, while she flicked her forked tongue in annoyance. At some unspoken command, she slithered off his lap, thudding hard on the dark, reflective floor. A dozen battle hardened Death Eaters leapt out of her way as she slithered past them, pushing open the massive door with the force of her large cranium. 

Lia allowed herself to rise from her demeaning position on the floor back onto her feet just as the door clicked shut again.

"A traitor!" Bellatrix hissed in her periphery, but Voldemort waved her down with a careless flick of his hand.

"And where did you acquire this information?" Voldemort asked smoothly, rising fluidly from his grandiose chair.

Despite his calm words, the narrowing of his slitted pupils and the twitch of his wand hand indicated a violent storm lying beneath his cool visage.

"You see, my Lord, I'm rather close to the person in question, and once I found out, I knew you had to be the first to know," Lia disclosed, doing her best to sound sincere, yet unfeeling.

Around them, Death Eaters began to shift uncomfortably, eyeing one another with varying degrees of distrust. All except for Severus Snape, who regarded her with stoic diligence, ever so still.

"And?" Voldemort prompted, coolly running his pale fingers over the arch of his chair as he paced behind it. "Who is so foolish as to betray me?"

"I fear," Lia sighed sadly, perhaps even a touch theatrically, "the traitor is right here in this room."

"Who?" Voldemort demanded, his patience finally at its end.

At last, she allowed her eyes to clash with Severus's, a smirk forming at the corners of her lips as she said the words:

"Why, my Lord, I'm afraid the traitor is none other than me."

By the time the flicker of understanding crossed over the Death Eaters' momentarily perplexed faces Lia was gone, but not before she gave into the urge to  look Lord Voldemort, the great and powerful, in the eyes, and flip him off for the whole world to see.