Isn't He Lovely-Professor Snape

Deathly Hallows Pt 11

The gentle embrace of sunlight tenderly caressed my face, offering a fleeting sense of comfort. I adjusted my head, seeking the warmth that momentarily eased the weight on my shoulders, letting my thoughts meander in the quietude.

"I hope my friends are alright," I murmured softly to the tranquil surroundings.

With a gradual flutter, my eyes opened, and the room's brilliance engulfed me, requiring a brief span to acclimate. The initial sting of brightness subsided into a numbing sensation as I surveyed the deserted hall, finding only a disheveled blonde boy occupying a seat at the table. The ambient stillness wrapped around me, intensifying the isolation of the moment.

Shifting my arms, the metallic clink of chains echoed through the desolate space, catching Draco's attention. "Niamh," he gasped, an urgency propelling him to stand and swiftly approach me. As he crouched down, the visible signs of exhaustion were etched beneath his eyes, accentuating the toll of recent events and eliciting a sympathetic response.

"Draco, please, are they—" I began, my voice faltering with emotion. "Did Harry make it back?" I stuttered, and Draco completed my sentence with a solemn revelation, "Harry never returned," he whispered.

A sigh of relief escaped me, tears of happiness trickling down my face. Yet, I understood the necessity of concealing my true emotions. "But he gave his word to come back, didn't he? I was injured; did something happen to him?" I ranted, veiling the depth of my genuine concern.

"Alright, settle down. Given Potter's track record, I'm confident he's fine," Draco attempted to reassure, though an undercurrent of jealousy tinged his voice.

"Draco, you look like you haven't slept in days," I whispered, genuine concern coloring my words. "What's going on?"

He chuckled, attempting to downplay his weariness. "I could say the same about you. I'll go get you some food and water; you haven't eaten or drunk anything in two days," he declared, standing up and making his way toward the door.

Expressing my gratitude with a sigh, I hoped Harry would prioritize caution and keep Hermione and Ron out of harm's way.

After a couple of minutes, the door swung open, revealing Draco with a bowl and a glass. He crouched down once more, positioning himself perpendicular to me. My stomach rumbled loudly, underscoring my hunger and the resulting weakness.

Putting aside my pride, I opened my mouth as Draco brought the glass close to my face, ready to partake in the meager sustenance he had brought.

"Stop!" The command echoed through the room, slicing through the tension.

Abruptly, Draco set the glass down, and our attention shifted to the source of the interruption.

"Father," Draco acknowledged, immediately rising from his crouched position.

"The Dark Lord wishes that Niamh has an empty stomach for the time being... until he gets a chance to... talk to her," Lucius Malfoy declared, his tone laced with force.

"Please," I stuttered, desperately making eye contact with Lucius.

He bellowed, "What did I say earlier? Are you incompetent? My house. You will not speak to me that way."

Tears flowed down my face as I whimpered, "Yes, sir." The cruelty of life weighed heavily on me.

"Come, Draco," Lucius commanded, and Draco glanced back at me, offering an apologetic stare before obediently walking out with his father. The heavy door closed behind them, leaving me alone with the lingering echoes of authority and the harsh reality of my predicament.

The echo of my scream reverberated through the air, a manifestation of my raging anger. Adrenaline surged through my veins, sparking an electrifying sensation that fueled my determination. In the dimly lit room, I fought against the unyielding chains, my arms flaring out in a desperate attempt to break free. Tears streamed down my face, their salty trails mingling with the burning cuts, each one etching a painful reminder of my torment. Every moment was a battle, a relentless struggle against the unseen forces determined to keep me bound. Yet, in the face of adversity, I refused to surrender, pushing through the pain with unwavering resolve.

"That will be enough of that," a commanding voice cut through the chaos.

"What do you want from me!" I screamed out, my desperation echoing in the room.

Voldemort entered with his sinister presence, his laughter bouncing off the cold, stone walls.

"My dear, there are plenty of things I want from you," he mocked, his voice dripping with malice, "but the first thing is for you to listen and shut your pretty little mouth."

The chains suddenly vanished, causing my hands to drop, and I groaned from the residual pain. Confusion flooded my mind as questions raced through it. "What's going on?"

Death Eaters materialized, taking their seats at the darkened table, further shrouding the room in an ominous atmosphere.

"Come, come, join us," Voldemort gestured, still standing with an air of arrogance, his hands ushering me to take a seat.

I stared at him blankly, well aware that getting up was an impossibility. I refused to give him the satisfaction, standing my ground and locking eyes with the dark lord, a silent defiance in the face of impending darkness.

"Hmm. Severus? Go help Miss Donnelly and put her next to you at the table," Voldemort commanded with a chilling tone.

"Yes, my lord," Severus responded with a respectful nod.

I shifted my gaze away from Voldemort, scanning the room for Severus. Our eyes locked, if only for a moment, and in that brief connection, the world seemed to hush. I delved into his deep obsidian eyes, the very eyes that had once brought me comfort. Those eyes I had loved, but now I found myself lost in uncertainty.

Severus approached, stopping in front of me and crouching down to lift me up. "Don't. Touch. Me," I sneered, attempting to assert control over the situation.

His eyes softened for a fleeting moment, but he ignored my plea, lifting me by placing his hands under my armpits. "Fuck you," I snarled in defiance.

My head was close to his chest, inundated with memories of our past. Swiftly, I pushed those thoughts aside as he maneuvered me to the chair. The swift movements left my head spinning, a disorienting sensation settling in.

Voldemort occupied the head of the table to my right, and Severus took his place on my right side.

I glanced at the person facing me—Bellatrix.

"How's the head?" she laughed, a sinister edge to her voice.

"I was fine until I started looking at you," I retorted without hesitation.

Her smile vanished, and a hint of red colored her face.

"Enough!" Voldemort's thunderous voice echoed, causing me to flinch. I redirected my gaze toward him.

"See, that wasn't so hard, now was it?" Voldemort smiled with a twisted satisfaction. "Now, we have some things to discuss."

        𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼

A.N

HI GUYS!!! GUYS WHATS GOING ON?! 7K READS!!!! YOU GUYS ARE INCREDIBLE! Thank you so so so so so so so so much for the support, I don't know what I would do without you guys🥹 hope you enjoy this chapter, feel free to request suggestions! Much love💟