Snape's Daughter

Chapter Nineteen : The hands of the Kin

It was all over. Ellia had once hoped that somebody would collect her body from where she was lying, yet no hope came to her. Instead, her body was dragged along the floor in the hands of who she feared the most. Parkinson. Her eyes had once again opened to meet the dooming sunlight in the same old house that he was keeping her in. In the same old room with the same old mismatch furniture. However, unlike times before, she wasn't in her more or less comfortable position, or as comfortable as it would get. This time, she had a single sheet entangled around her body, and that was it. No uneven pillow, no dirty duvet. Just a sheet. Already by what she was using, Ellia knew she was in huge trouble with Parkinson. However she knew now how to escape his clasp, but probably he'll know how to keep her locked up now. What her escape routes where. Even the wand she used. Ellia was no doubtfully stuck in the room now, and with Patricia frequently visiting, life couldn't get any worse.

"Get up mudblood," Patrick snarled, entering Ellia's room. Shaken by the harsh snap of Patrick's voice, Ellia rolled over, pretending like she couldn't see him.

"I'm not muggle born," she muttered, tugging herself further into the sheet.

"You're no different to one. Now I suggest you get up," Patrick snapped, "Patricia's coming over soon."

"Why do I care?" Ellia muttered under her breath. Suddenly scolding herself, she flinched as she felt Patrick's dry Palm whip across her back.

"Get up you useless slut," He shouted, dragging her by the hair out of the bed. Desperately clutching onto her hair so it wouldn't fall out, Ellia toppled out of the bed onto the floor.

"Stop!" She cried in pain, "You're hurting me!"

"And you could've given me a life in Azkaban because you where stupid enough to run away," Patrick snarled, kicking Ellia. Screaming in pain, Ellia grabbed Patrick's foot, before dragging him down to the ground.

"Stop it!" she complained, fighting back. First, she took a swing for his face, leaving a beautiful black mark and red liquid in place. Second, she scrambled to her feet before running out of the room. She'd never managed to see the corridor after the 3 years she'd been living in the empty apartment. Patrick always kept her blindfolded. Searching around the corridor, she saw a wand lying on a table. Unsure of whether it would be a trap, Ellia grabbed hold of it anyway, before turning. To face Patrick. He'd crawled out of the room, complaining in pain and yet Ellia didn't have the strength to torture him like he did her.

"Put the wand down," Patrick demanded, relying on another table to pull himself up on his feet.

"No," Ellia said, pointing the wand at Patrick's face. At first she thought Patrick would be scared, but instead he had a smirk wiped straight across his face. Whenever he smiled like that, it meant Patricia was, she was behind Ellia. Feeling somebody's arm wrap themselves around Ellia, she struggled to break free before hearing a high pitched hackle.

"Look who it is. The girl who sent me to Azkaban for 2 years. Well I'm 23 now, and you have no Albus Dumbledore or Severus Snape to save you, petty isn't it. Your pathetic father would hate to see me holding you like this," Patricia teased Ellia, still fastening her grip on her whilst Patrick laughed.

"Don't say anything about my father. He's better than both of you will ever be," Ellia snapped.

"Is he now? Did you know he used to be a Death Eater? He used to work with Voldemort, and he's the reason Harry Potter's parents are dead," Patricia dropped the bombshell on Ellia. She never knew that. She didn't even know what a Death Eater was, or even what Voldemort looked like. She knew though that on several cases Patrick had met him, like a 'loyal' follower he was, and each time Ellia was trapped in a ratty cupboard, with no escape. That cupboard, and the mismatch room became Ellia's home. And not even there did she feel safe.

"He's not the reason their dead," Ellia snapped in defence.

"He told the Dark Lord about the prophecy, sweetie," Patrick reminded him.

"He's an innocent man," Ellia argued back, refusing to believe what they had been saying.

"He's also the reason your silly mummy is dead," Patrick cheered, causing Ellia's blood to boil. Kicking Patricia, she threw her to the ground before running away from the father and daughter.

"Shut up!" She screeched, running to the closest door she could find. Ramming it open, Ellia ran out before seeing something she hadn't seen before. A hooded figure was nearing closer to her, pointing his wand at her. Trying to run back inside, she realised she'd locked the door on the way out.

"Please don't hurt me," she whimpered at the hooded figure.

"Severus won't know," the figure nodded, before pointing a wand at Ellia. "Stupefy!" He called, before Ellia hurtled backwards.

Opening her eyes, Ellia was met with the pale face of man whom she did not recognise. Next to him, almost bowing at their knees, was Patrick and Patricia. Then it hit Ellia. This pale face man, or even the hooded figure, was Voldemort. In his own flesh and blood.

"What do we have here?" He asked, his eyes darting towards Ellia. The cold blood glint in his eyes sent shivers down Ellia's spine, and she couldn't help but feel slightly scared of him.

"Ellia Mae Snape, sir," she trembled, avoiding eye contact.

"Ellia Mae Snape. Is Severus your father?" He questioned the girl.

"Yes sir," Ellia answered.

"He's a very faithful servant of mine, a loyal Death Eater," Voldemort said. Squinching her eyes together, Ellia tried to hold back the truth. He was a Death Eater.

"We told her that my lord, she did not believe us," Patricia said, lowering her head.

"Didn't you?" Voldemort asked.

"No sir, he's, he's better than that," Ellia trembled.

"We'll see about that," Voldemort sneered, "Crucio!" The bursts of pain exploded throughout her whole body as Ellia screamed in pain. Millions of knives where stabbing into her body, at least that's how it felt like.

"Please stop," She begged, clutching onto his leg.

"No," Voldemort laughed, kicking Ellia off his leg and into a wall. This time, it felt like somebody was twisting Ellia's legs around and backwards when they weren't actually. Then it all stopped and yet the throbbing pain was still there. It wouldn't stop.

"Take her to her room, and lock her in there," Voldemort ordered Patrick. Feeling his hands clutching on to her leg, Patrick dragged Ellia across the floor and into her room. He then picked her up, avoiding eye contact, and slung her on her bed.

"If I come back and you're not here I'll kill you," Patrick threatened, storming out of the room and locking the door.