Obsidian Hearts

AU / Same world as all of my previous stories. The world and the characters in it belong to J.K. Rowling.

AN: This story will be multiple chapters, I don’t know how long or how frequently I'll update, but I'll try not to finish on a cliffhanger! If you have constructive criticism, feel free to share it.

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Severus Snape hurried down the dimly lit corridors of Malfoy Manor, his mind churning with both apprehension and determination. He knew the importance of the task that lay ahead: Attend the Death Eater meeting called upon by the Dark Lord.

As he reached the end of the hall, he found himself face-to-face with Lucius Malfoy, who stood regally by the imposing doors that led into the main hall.

The air crackled with tension as their gazes locked, each assessing the other with a cool, calculating demeanor.
"Severus," Lucius drawled, his voice dripping with disdain. "To what do we owe the honor of your presence here tonight?"
Snape's expression remained impassive as he met Lucius's gaze. "I am here at the Dark Lord's summons, as are you, Lucius," he replied smoothly with a sneer slowly curling his lip, and he betrayed nothing of the turmoil he felt within.

"Of course," Lucius replied with a smile friendlier than his words. His tone dripped with sarcasm as he added, "But one wonders what business the Dark Lord would have with a traitor such as yourself."

"The Dark Lord values loyalty above all else," Snape said evenly. "And he knows where my loyalties lie."
Lucius reached for the door, speaking quietly so only Snape could hear. "Do not forget our agreement. I helped with the prophecy, after all.”
Lucius pushed open the large doors, and Severus followed behind him as they entered the main hall. Severus met Voldemort's crimson eyes across the room. He carefully schooled his expression into one of deference and obedience.

Bellatrix Lestrange's fanatical devotion was palpable as she sat beside the Dark Lord, her eyes gleaming with fervor. Nagini, the great snake, was coiled at his other side searching the room with a predatory gaze.
In the center of the hall, a young man knelt submissively before the Dark Lord’s throne, waiting for his command. The Dark Lord’s voice sliced menacingly through the heavy silence, carrying the weight of authority.

"You have your orders," he intoned coldly. "The Muggle operation will commence soon. Ensure that it is executed with precision and ruthlessness."

The young man rose to his feet, his movements stiff with tension as he bowed his head in deference. He turned to leave, and his eyes flashed with contempt as he passed by Severus—he silently rebuked the man who stood in the shadow of the Dark Lord.
Severus's jaw clenched imperceptibly at the young man's disdainful glance, but Severus didn’t acknowledge him. Instead, Severus maintained his stony composure and fixed his eyes firmly on the throne. The young man left the hall, and unease lingered in his wake.
The Dark Lord waved them down as they approached, gesturing for Malfoy first.

Lucius neared the throne, his body rigid with tension. The Dark Lord's cold, crimson eyes bore into him with unnerving intensity. Lucius was commanded to move closer, and the Malfoy patriarch obeyed without hesitation, sinking to his knees in submission.
"What progress have you made. . .infiltrating the Ministry?"

The Dark Lord’s voice echoed throughout the hall, carrying the weight of his expectations. His gleaming eyes held a promise of punishment for unsuccessful action or inaction.
Lucius swallowed hard, the Dark Lord's scrutiny bearing down on him. "It is a delicate and intricate process, my Lord," he began, his voice betraying a hint of apprehension. "The Ministry is on high alert, and our attempts to gain traction without arousing suspicion have proven. . .challenging."

The Dark Lord’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing within their depths. "Challenges are to be expected, Lucius," he replied icily. "But challenges are not insurmountable. I trust that you will find a way to overcome them."
Lucius bowed his head, a bead of sweat glistening on his brow. "Of course, my Lord," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I will redouble our efforts and ensure that our presence in the Ministry remains undetected."
The Dark Lord’s expression remained inscrutable as he regarded Lucius for a long moment before nodding in dismissal. "See that you do, Lucius," he said quietly, his tone a dangerous last warning. "Our plans must proceed without interference. Failure is not an option."

With a final bow of deference, Lucius rose to his feet and backed away from the throne. His mind was racing with panic, focused on the objective and impending consequences if he didn’t succeed. As he turned his back to the Dark Lord, retreating from his presence, a sudden wave of excruciating pain ripped through his entire body.
The Cruciatus Curse.

The Dark Lord twisted his wand cruelly as Lucius fell to the ground, convulsing in agony. Lucius’s screams ricocheted off the stone walls of the hall.

"Who gave you permission to stand?" The Dark Lord’s voice cracked in the air like a whip—icy and merciless.

Lucius struggled to speak. The pain coursing through his body was too much to bear. "Forgive me, my Lord," he gasped, his voice strained. “I. . .I did not mean. . .”
His master’s crimson eyes blazed with fury then he got up from his throne, robes gliding behind him ominously as he closed in on Lucius's twitching form. The Dark Lord towered over him with his wand still raised.

"I am disappointed in you, Lucius," he hissed, his voice dripping with venom. "You dare show weakness before me You dare fail in your duties?"
The pain intensified as the Dark Lord’s fury surged, driving Lucius to the brink of unconsciousness. Through gritted teeth, he managed to choke out a response. "I will. . .I will do better, my Lord! I swear it!"

The Dark Lord’s anger evaporated only slightly, but his gaze remained unyielding. "See that you do," he hissed. "Next time, I expect progress. Failure will not be tolerated."
With a final flick of his wand, The Dark Lord released Lucius from the grip of the Cruciatus Curse, leaving him trembling and gasping for breath on the cold stone floor.
As Lucius struggled to rise, the weight of Voldemort's disappointment hung heavy upon him, driving him to redouble his efforts to help Snape against the Dark Lord.
With trembling hands, Lucius pushed himself up from the ground, his body still throbbing with residual pain. Every movement was a reminder of his failure, a testament to the merciless scrutiny of his master.

As he steadied himself, Lucius dared to steal a glance at the Dark Lord, who watched him with cold detachment. The disappointment etched into the Dark Lord's features was more damning than any curse. Lucius knew that he had squandered his trust, and there was no choice: He had to make amends at any cost.

"I will not fail you again, my Lord," Lucius vowed, his voice quivering with shame. He continued with more confidence, "I will redouble my efforts and ensure that our plans proceed without delay."

Voldemort regarded him with a silent intensity, his expression inscrutable. "Do well to remember your place, Lucius," he said icily. "The consequences will be severe."
Lucius bowed his head in submission, his resolve hardening like steel. "I understand, my Lord," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "I will not disappoint you again."

The Dark Lord nodded, then turned his gaze to Severus, waving him forward. Severus approached the throne with measured steps, his expression composed. He was prepared to face the scrutiny of the Dark Lord as Lucius had. But Bellatrix’s voice entered the air like a thinly veiled warning that resonated with the weight of expectation: "I hope you do not disappoint our lord. Or rather do disappoint him. That would be more fun for me."

As he reached the foot of the throne, Severus bowed low, his movements fluid and precise. His black eyes met the Dark Lord's gaze with unwavering intensity, a testament to his unwavering loyalty.
Voldemort regarded Severus with a calculating gaze, his crimson eyes gleaming with curiosity and anticipation. "Severus," he intoned. "You have served me faithfully in the past. Tell me, what progress have you made in your endeavors?"

Severus felt a knot tighten in his stomach as his master’s crimson eyes bore into him. His heartbeat sped up, pounding out of his chest in fear. The Dark Lord's question hung in the air like a heavy shroud.
"What have you discovered about the Potters?" the cold voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of menace that sent a chill down Severus's spine.

Severus swallowed hard; his throat dry with apprehension. "My Lord," he began, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness. "I. . .I have been unable to gather much information about the Potters. James and Lily are. . .wary of my presence."
"Wary?” he repeated, his tone icy with thinning patience. "Explain yourself, Severus. Why are they wary of you?"

Severus hesitated, unsure of what to say. "James Potter is. . .distrustful of me," he admitted reluctantly. "And Evans. . .she has become increasingly suspicious of my intentions."

The Dark Lord regarded Severus his expression inscrutable. "Very well," he said finally, his voice tinged with disappointment. "but be warned, Severus. I will not tolerate failure. You must find a way to gain the information they possess." After a small pause, the Dark Lord continued. "What about the Mudblood apprentice Dumbledore assigned to you, Severus? Could she acquire vital information about the Potter boy?"

Severus felt the knot twist in the pit of his stomach. Hermione Granger—the brilliant, young witch Dumbledore had entrusted to him—now potentially a pawn in the Dark Lord's deadly game? No.
He struggled to find the right words to appease his master's curiosity. Before Severus could respond, however, Bellatrix Lestrange cut in.

“Severus, darling, you underestimate our capabilities, our knowledge.” her eyes gleamed with malice as she smirked sinisterly. “We already know about the Granger girl and her connection to Potter."

Severus's eyes widened in alarm, panicking with the revelation. How had they discovered Hermione's involvement?

The Dark Lord’s lips curled into a cruel smile, observing Severus's reaction. "It seems our dear Severus has been keeping secrets from us," he hissed, his voice dripping with venom.

"Perhaps it's time you proved your allegiance, Severus. Provide us with the information we seek or suffer the consequences."

A chill ran down Severus’s spine. The danger Hermione now faced because of their connection because she was a Muggleborn, made him shiver.

"Severus," The Dark Lord’s voice slithered through the air like a serpent's hiss, bringing him back to the present moment. "it is your task, your responsibility, to persuade Hermione Granger. Get her to divulge the information we seek. Do not fail me."

Severus inclined his head in acquiescence. His mind instantly spun with strategies and scenarios—all ways he could pass along the vital information to the Dark Lord and keep Hermione safe. He knew the double edge he walked as a spy was delicate. How could he find balance in it? How could he navigate the treacherous waters of the Dark Lord’s demands while safeguarding his own secrets and allegiances?
As Severus turned to depart, lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts, the Dark Lord’s commanding voice rang out like a sharp bell in the silence.

“One more thing,” Startled, Severus halted and looked back. He met the enraged, crimson gaze of his master.

“Why did you not inform me of Hermione Granger's status as your apprentice?"

Severus knew a dark storm was brewing on the horizon. A bead of sweat trickled down his spine, his heart quickening as he searched for the right words to mollify the Dark Lord’s wrath. He knew the consequences of withholding such information could be dire, yet revealing the truth could jeopardize everything he had worked so hard to conceal.

"My Lord," Severus began, his voice steady despite the turmoil boiling within him, "I believed it unnecessary to disclose Miss Granger's apprenticeship as it seemed inconsequential to our current endeavors. However, if her role has become of significance to our plans, I pledge to employ every means at my disposal to leverage my influence over her."

The main hall was intensely silent yet deafening. The Dark Lord regarded Severus with a penetrating gaze, his crimson eyes flickering with suspicion. It was the same look he had given Lucius, and Severus braced himself for whatever judgment the Dark Lord would pass, knowing that his fate hung precariously in the balance.

“Severus,” the Dark Lord’s voice sounded almost defeated, full of disappointment and resolve. "Severus," he repeated, his tone betraying some reluctance. “it pains me, quite deeply, to do this, but you have failed me. For that, there must be consequences."

Severus's heart sank like a stone in his chest as he braced himself for pain or death. He knew all too well the price of failure in the Dark Lord’s unforgiving world. Yet, he had hoped he might somehow escape retribution.
The Dark Lord turned to his most fervent follower, Bellatrix Lestrange. Her eyes shone with sadistic pleasure at the prospect of inflicting pain or death upon Severus.

"Bellatrix," their master addressed her, "you may use the Cruciatus Curse on Severus as much as you desire. But ensure that he remains relatively unharmed. We still have need of him."

Severus felt both relief and torment from his words. He would live to fight another day, at least.

Bellatrix's lips curled into a malicious smile as she stepped forward eagerly, her wand already poised to unleash the Cruciatus Curse upon him.
With a gleeful flick of her wrist, she sent bolts of searing agony coursing through his veins; each jolt was more excruciating than the last.

Severus gritted his teeth against the pain, his mind a whirlwind of anguish and defiance. He endured the torture with a grim determination, knowing that his survival depended on his ability to withstand the unrelenting onslaught of Bellatrix's cruelty. Severus's thoughts turned to his mission, to the precious secrets he had sworn to protect at all costs. He summoned every ounce of strength and resilience he had within him, just to endure the torturous onslaught.

Though Severus’s resolve remained unbroken, the world around him rapidly grew hazy. He would endure the torment and survive for the sake of his mission, for the sake of all those who depended on him—like Hermione.
The darkness threatened to consume him, and he clung to the flicker of hope that burned within his heart, knowing one day he would emerge from the shadows triumphant.

As his vision went black, the last thought that entered his mind was Hermione Granger's warm, smiling face.