The Raven and The Snake

Ariadne knelt before her grandfather, feeling irked at the size of the crowd he had amassed. She had been terribly ill before leaving school this year and had sent a letter to warn that she would not return until after her exams had been

completed.

The NEWTS had been postponed until a week after the funeral, by which time the school was mostly empty. Ariadne had spent the entirety of that time in recovery in the hospital wing. It showed on her face now as she was thinner than she'd ever been, her face hollow and resembling her grandfather in his prime more than ever.

He gazed down at her now, seeming to enjoy the discomfort he was putting her in. Bellatrix sat next to him in an armchair like it was a throne, gazing at Ariadne as though she were dirt on her shoe. Bellatrix's face was quite full as she was on the last trimester of her pregnancy. Her belly stuck out in wide contrast to Ariadne's own which was flat to point of showing ribs when she moved.

"What is it that caused such a delay in returning to my side?" Voldemort's voice rang out, high and threatening.

Ariadne bowed lower still. "I was taken ill, my lord. I remained behind so as to recover and finish my education. I regret that I was unable to assist my comrades in their siege of the school, but I am not without gifts." Voldemort stretched out his long-fingered hand to her face. He tilted her chin so she was forced to look up into his ruby-red eyes with their vertical pupils. His too-wide lipless mouth stretched into a sneer. "What have you brought me, my child?"

Wordlessly, Ariadne reached into her robes and presented him the little crystal ball she had enchanted. He took it from her lightly, raising it up and showing his lit wand to it. On the ceiling, a video was projected.

"I confirmed the death and burial of Albus Dumbledore." Ariadne spoke clearly as all heads turned up to see the images of Ariadne personally preparing Dumbledore's body for burial and the final images of his funeral during which his body was consumed by flames and encased within a white tomb.

Voldemort's mouth twitched, his face alight with a savage happiness. He reached a hand toward her, pulling her up as he rose from his seat. "You have done well, my child. Albus Dumbledore is dead!"

A cheer rose amongst the Death Eaters. They cackled viciously, sounding like hyenas. There were whistles and calls going up as the grief-stricken faces of funeral attendees was displayed. It tore at Ariadne's conscience. Voldemort dropped the ball onto Draco's lap. It had been Draco's mission to kill Dumbledore, but when the boy had faltered, Snape had dealt the finishing blow.

Draco was as pale and grey as ever. Even with the task completed and his father being released from Azkaban, he looked frightened. He tried to force a late smile, but Ariadne wasn't fooled. He had been sorry to see Dumbledore die. Snape's face had remained completely impassive. He had turned his head up to look at the pictures of his former friend and teacher's funeral. Now his eyes fell back down toward Ariadne. She could feel him scrutinizing everything about her from the cautious smile she wore to the dark circles around her eyes.

He'd been standing next to Voldemort's chair with his hands clasped behind his back. He hadn't made any move toward her as she bowed, but he came closer now as Voldemort beckoned him.

Voldemort swept around to stand behind Snape. "Your reward, Severus."

Ariadne pursed her lips, watching. She wasn't sure what reward Snape was supposed to receive. He had never discussed it with her, but from the look on Voldemort's face, they had discussed it in length.

Her stomach gave a horrible flip-flop when Snape stepped closer to her and knelt. His face was entirely unreadable as he gazed up at her on one knee. She saw his lips move, but she couldn't hear the words, her heartbeat pounding loudly in her ears.

It felt indecent to look at him while he was kneeling in front of her. She felt like she wasn't supposed to be seeing this. Never once had she considered what it would be like if Severus Snape were to propose.

Biting her lip, she glanced over Snape to Voldemort. Voldemort was grinning at her, a nasty spark in his eye. He gave the tiniest of nods.

With a breath, Ariadne replied. Snape stood up, pressing a very awkward kiss to her lips. People around them clapped.

Antigone wound her way up Ariadne's leg, nuzzling into her throat. She gave a small squeeze, like a hug, encouraging Ariadne to loosen. Ariadne wasn't sure she could loosen. She felt like she was going to cry.

The relationship she had entered into with Snape had been suggested by Voldemort. He had wanted Snape to become reliant on her, sharing everything. If he had shown any signs of weakness, she, as his student and lover, would be able to put a strangle-hold on him.

Ariadne loved Snape whole-heartedly, entering his bed willingly enough. She did not expect love, nor did Voldemort. This reward was not having her as a wife, it was having Voldemort as a father-in-law.

Bellatrix's face was livid, her teeth gnashing as though the idea of someone being family to Voldemort was repellent. As though she alone wanted to be special to her master. Wasn't it enough that she was pregnant with his child?

Voldemort reached toward Ariadne, snaking her away from Snape. He cupped her thin face with hands and pressed a possessive kiss to her lips. She responded automatically though he repulsed her. It was all for show. He would give her to Snape, but she would always be his.