Liar, Liar

21: Liar, Liar

How many flights we had gone up, I did not know. The pain in my arms from their ruthless clutching and my legs was getting to be too much. My mark burned harder, the pain driving me to oblivion.

Finally, their hands released me from their clutches. Steadying my trembling hands, I tried to stand, but my legs failed me.

My mark ceased its destruction and quieted.

I sunk to my knees, unable to stand. I lifted my head searching the room. I was in the room I had been initiated in; dark wood paneled the massive room, with torches giving minimal light. Every seat in the room was occupied, and I stayed kneeling in front of the enormous table.

I could feel him at the end of the table, his presence loomed, a reminder of my life being stripped from my hands in moments.

"Miss Agoria... how nice of you to join us," the voice boomed across the table. The Dark Lord.

"Stand and look at me when I'm speaking to you!" He roared.

I willed my legs to stand up, begging my knees to not give out on me. Slowly, I rose to my feet. My eyes searched the table, wondering if there was anyone here to help me, anyone at all.

The Malfoys sat at The Dark Lord's right hand, Draco looking stricken with fear. The Crabbes, Goyles, and a few werewolves sat next to them. On the other side of the table, the mangled woman who had brought me up sat directly next to The Dark Lord on his left side.

A few other Death Eaters were seated alongside her as well.

A dark figure caught my eye, sitting just out of the light of a candle.

Snape.

His eyes remained glued to the center of the table.

"Miss Agoria had graced us with her presence, finally," he let out a dark snicker. "Or should I say... Miss Dumbledore?"

My heart dropped as a collective gasp came from around the room. Snape was the only one to remain silent.

"Yes, yes," he sounded giddy. "Right here, in front of you, is the daughter of Albus herself. Hiding away, safe in Hogwarts, under the supervision of that crazy witch."

"The one with the astronomy?" A voice from the right side of the table quipped. Fenrir.

"Yes, the one herself," he tutted. "Right under our noses."

"How I'd like to tear her throat out," the werewolf laughed. "She always looked... delectable."

I tried to scream, to protest, but my mouth was glued together. Literally. I could not open it, I could not scream.

"Do not speak until you are spoken to!" He whipped his head towards me, looking me straight in the eyes. His chalky face and slitlike nose disgusted me.

I bit my cheeks, still trying desperately to speak.

Suddenly, I remembered. Snape. Snape could hear my thoughts. Help me, please, I thought as hard as possible. Please, I'll do anything.

Snape's eyes shot up at me, and there was an unreadable emotion across his face. It seemed like he was trying to tell me to-

"Aha!" Voldemort let out another snarl. "The girl thinks her Potions professor will help her. Listening to her plead with him has been entertainment enough. Perhaps we should just get to the good part? What say you, Miss Dumbledore?"

Finally, my mouth was free. "Dumbledore isn't my dad! I shouted. "I don't know my birth parents. I-"

"Lies!" He boomed, making my skull reverberate. "I see your thoughts. I see into your head. You still believe Severus will get you out of this mess?"