The Sugar Quill
Author: Strawberrymad  Story: The Killing  Chapter: Default
The distribution of this story is for personal use only. Any other form of distribution is prohibited without the consent of the author.

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Selena sat in the corner, hiding herself behind the old oak dresser. She ran a finger over the ornate carving and chipped varnish. She didn't want to die, not here. She just hoped that the dresser would mask her from his view. She peered around the side. The room seemed so much bigger than before. The rug draped across the floor, the chairs in the corner, the cloth on the chest all askew, the quiet hum of the 'Weird Sisters' in the background. Everything seemed entirely normal. 'Then, why am I so scared?,' she thought. 'Maybe he's forgotten. Maybe...' She tried to convince herself that she was safe. 'Sel, don't be stupid!' she told herself. 'He won't give up that easily! He won't let you get away!' Her gaze was drawn to the thick oak door that she had bolted shut. It might delay her death, but nothing so small as a lock, would stop the Dark Lord.

She moved back behind the dresser and closed her eyes. She thought of her parents, and remembered the advice they had given her when someone had bullied her.' Just ignore them, and they'll go away'. But she couldn't ignore what had happened this time; she had become too deeply involved. If she had only overlooked the Death Eaters, and not become wrapped up in their capture, she might not be in this terrible situation. But it was too late for regrets now. She knew that she was to pay for her stupidity.

Selena gradually opened her eyes and glanced at the grimy window. The weather was atrocious. Rain struck the pane so hard that Selena thought the glass would break. Suddenly, lightning lit the room and she trembled in fear. It was as if even the weather knew that he wanted her dead. Boom! Thunder shook the room. Rain dripped from the branches.

Then she heard a noise. Thud! She heard it again. Footsteps. It was him, coming along the corridors, ready to take her life. The footsteps were getting nearer. His boots unmercifully stomping down the corridor. Every step was torture. 'Why doesn't he just come, and get it over with?' she thought. He was doing it on purpose. He knew he could make her suffer in fright, until she would finally break down in distress. He knew everything she thought, everything she felt.

Selena heard the muttering of a spell and the click of the door unlocking. She saw the brass handle turn, and with a heavy groan, the door open.

There he was. She felt sick, with a deep pang in her stomach. His sadistic face was chalk white, which made his eyes stand out, as if they'd been outlined in black eye-liner. He didn't speak, he just slowly scanned the room. He was clever, if he called out, his voice would hide the sound of her movements and breathing. He didn't even move. With his glaring eyes darting round the room, his dark, heavy cloak wrapped tightly around him, the hint of a wand in his pocket, he looked terrifying.

She tried to keep still and hold her breath, but the more she tried, the more uncomfortable she became. Pain started to prick her leg, so she attempted to slowly move it, but the varnish on the dresser scratched her. She sharply inhaled as blood trickled from the cut. Biting her lip, she blinked back the tears, more from terror than the wound. But it was too late, he had heard.

Everything happened so quickly. A bony hand reached over the top of the dresser and grabbed her roughly by the neck. He pushed her up against the wall and grabbed the wand from his pocket. As he uttered the words 'Avada Kedavra', she knew they would be the last she would ever hear.

Her world seemed to dissolve before her. Everything was fading to nothing, as if she were drifting off to sleep. In a way it was a relief, all the tension was vanishing, droplets of fear were dripping from her fingertips. She was relaxed even, enveloped in a warm grey shadow, but as the spell touched her heart, she shuddered in agony. She felt tense, then weak with an intense throbbing throughout her body. She gasped for breath, but he just laughed cruelly in her face. So with all the strength she had, she gave out one last sickening scream, that shattered the silence of the room. She was dead.

Voldemort dropped the dead girl's body and walked over to the chest. A cloaked figure joined him.
"Is she dead, Sir?" said the shadow.
"Of course, she is, Severus. Did you think I was incapable of killing such a weakling?"
"Of course not, Sir. But...well, I just thought..."
"I told you, no-one betrays me."
"No-one?"
"Are you thinking of deserting me so soon, Severus?" Voldemort said callously.
Severus looked startled.
"No, of course not!"
"Then come."
Voldemort left the room, looking pleased with himself. Severus rubbed at the fresh tattoo on his arm. It hurt. 'What have I done?' he thought. He now understood why once a wizard went over to the Dark side they never came back. They were too scared.

Severus trudged out of the room, giving one final sorrowful glance to the corpse of his foolish sister.
****

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