Isn't He Lovely-Professor Snape

Deathly Hallows Pt 12

I sit in my chair anxiously, while fighting for my life to stay seated because my body is so weak. The unexpected surge of gratitude sweeps over me momentarily as I contemplate the rarity of being in a chair rather than on the floor. My hands find solace at the chair's edges, tightly gripping it as a lifeline to maintain my upright position.

"We are advancing quite well. Our recruitments are continuing to surge. However... how is it that Harry Potter and his friends are still not found?-" Voldemort stops to stare at Bellatrix "Where did our plan go... wrong?"

Bellatrix, the once proud extroverted spaz, stood up and became small and timid "M-my lord, I-" He interrupts her "There will be no excuses. You failed me. And I'm disappointed. But... it was one thing to not complete your mission, but it's another thing to then harm our guest"

Their gaze simultaneously shifts towards me, igniting a blush on my face. Bellatrix begins to speak, but abruptly closes her mouth. A subtle twitch in her eye and an unmistakable air of frustration and defeat permeate her demeanor.

Voldemort smiles at me "My dear, there exist numerous qualities in you that I find admirable – your loyalty to your comrades, your sharp wit, inherent strength, beauty, and unyielding ambition. You and I, we share common traits. However, what eludes my comprehension is the steadfast loyalty you extend to your "so-called friends." You sacrificed your life for them, only to be forsaken, left for dead. What manner of friendship is this? Allow me to offer you something far superior. Harry Potter, he cares not for you; he deems you dispensable. Yet, I recognize the countless valuable contributions you've made for us. Recently, you had a chance to break free, to divulge that it was a trap, but you refrained. Deep down, I sense your hesitation to return to his side, a preference to remain with us. Your exemplary conduct does not escape my notice."

Sweat starts to form on my forehead, my mind is wandering with the possibilities his next sentence is going to bring.

He continues "I have long sought an individual with shared desires and understanding. Through years of searching, I have yearned for a counterpart, a sovereign to stand by my side. The legacy I aspire to forge, one that endures through eternity, necessitates contingency. In you, I envision not only a wife but the mother of my heirs, the one who will carry forth my lineage. Together, we shall sculpt a destiny intertwined with power and supremacy."

A wave of lightheadedness washes over me, leaving my senses in disarray. Almost instinctively, my right hand seeks out Severus's, a subconscious yearning for reassurance. Our hands delicately intertwine under the table, forming a connection that, in that moment, transcends words. As I navigate the disorienting sensation, a sinking feeling takes root in my stomach—a visceral response to the shocking revelation unfolding before us. It's as if the very ground beneath us has shifted, and the weight of understanding settles in, casting a shadow on what once seemed familiar and secure.

Tears well up in my eyes, a silent acknowledgment passing between Voldemort and me, as the gravity of my choices becomes painfully clear. Despite my attempt to voice my thoughts, my words falter and remain trapped within. In the profound stillness of the room, the only audible sound is the gentle crackling of the fire behind me, accentuating the weight of the moment.

In response, I begin to shake my head, a somber and resolute gesture, as if to convey what words cannot.

I cling to Severus's hand, hoping for a stable presence in the midst of emotional chaos, gently placing my left arm on the table for support as I rest my head. My gaze shifts away, finding comfort in the understanding eyes of Severus—a deep connection that somehow weathers the storm. His expression reflects a stunned disbelief, like someone witnessing the unexpected.

In this brief suspension of time, the ticking clock loses its usual rhythm. The weight of the startling revelation recedes, overshadowed by the meaningful exchange of glances. It's as if the outside world dissolves, leaving behind only the profound connection with Severus. My eyes soften, gradually closing, offering a temporary respite from the harsh reality, as I surrender to a moment of tranquil acceptance

        𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼

Waking up in the quiet of the night, I find myself in solitude, grappling with the shadows that envelop the unfamiliar room for only a moment, until I feel the large window of the moonlight hitting my face. I look over and see the beautiful lemon tree. However, my moment of peace gets interrupted by the echoes of Voldemort's unsettling proposal, casting an unsettling doubt over my surroundings. A profound fear grips me, and the once-welcoming bed now feels like a lonely refuge in the vast darkness.

Attempting to rise, my weakened body protests, keeping me tethered to the bed. It was meant to offer stability, yet in this moment, it accentuates the isolation that engulfs me. My hands, seeking the comforting reassurance of Severus's touch, nervously fumble in the void left by his absence.

The hushed atmosphere is broken only by the distant crackling of the fire, a distant reminder of the recent encounter with Voldemort. The weight of his expectations and the intricate choices ahead loom large, leaving me adrift in a sea of confusion.

A shiver of loneliness courses through me, and my thoughts become a turbulent storm of uncertainty. What lies ahead in this alliance of darkness? The revelation of my potential role as a bride and mother echoes in my mind, and the gravity of the situation settles like a heavy fog.

In the dimness, the room takes on an otherworldly quality, and the air feels pregnant with unspoken threats. Fear clings to me, and the solitude intensifies the vulnerability I feel. The silence becomes a haunting melody, accentuating the thoughts that whirl through my mind.

Desperation washes over me as I contemplate the unknown journey unfolding. Voldemort's words echo, and the quiet room becomes a canvas for my anxieties. I grapple with the weight of my choices and the ominous path ahead.

Tears well up once again, not just from fear but also from the stark realization that I am truly alone. Amidst the vulnerability, I yearn for Severus, his understanding gaze, and the anchor he provides. The stillness of the night transforms into a symphony of fear, and I am left to confront the darkness surrounding me, both within and without.