Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

"Standing Stones" (9/?)
by Christine Anderson
aka Lilly Malfoy

We had to walk what felt like quite a ways before we reached a point from which we could Apparate. And so we stood on the far outskirts of Hogsmeade, having passed in silence through the village, at the foot of the path leading up onto the mountain.

"Right then," I said. "Best not keep him waiting, hmm?"

Severus nodded, and together we cast the Apparition spell.

We Apparated into a dark wood, and a quick glance at the sky told me we were very far from home. Firelight glowed in the near distance, and dark shapes moved around it, forming a rough circle.

Severus bound his hair into a short ponytail, pulled his mask on, and raised the hood of his cloak.

Nearer the fire, one of the black-cloaked figures raised its head and pointed, having spotted us.

"Come," whispered that same voice I had heard from the black paper and silver ink.

We walked forward, strides long and confident, and by the time we reached the gathering it was a true circle, and a man, taller than the others, stood in the midst of it, beside the fire. The Death Eaters bowed low before him and remained bent. I followed their example.

As they moved to bow I could begin to make out familiar patterns of movement; the cloaked woman-shape across the circle, who moved even to bow to her master with a regal grace, could only be Dora Lestrange, and the man who moved like a striking serpent was most certainly Lucius Malfoy. The others I could not so readily identify, but I was certain I knew almost all of them.

"My friends," said Voldemort. "My dear friends. Welcome."

"Thank you, My Lord," the others murmured. For my part I thought it best to remain silent.

He smiled. "Severus Snape, forward if you please." Though politely phrased, this clearly was a command, and Severus took three steps into the center of the circle and kneeled before the Dark Lord, who looked at him as one might regard a favorite pet. "I am told you have something for me..." He looked up at me then. "Ah! There she is."

"Yes, My Lord," Severus said.

"You came to my call promptly, Severus... Though a bit later than usual?" Voldemort nodded a bit to himself. "They have extended the Apparition barrier, then... The far edge of Hogsmeade? "

Severus dipped his head in a nod. "Yes, My Lord."

"And was it a terribly long walk for you, Severus? "

"No, My Lord. I will walk- as far as is required of me by you."

That smile again; if I had thought Lucius Malfoy's grin frightening, it was nothing to that of Voldemort. "Good. As it should be. So. To business, then." He nodded what was clearly a dismissal at Severus, who stepped back again.

"A stranger stands among us tonight, my friends... Brought to us by Severus. Come here, child."

I walked towards the fire, and knelt before him, eyes downcast.

"Good, good... You may look at me, child."

I looked up as if I had been honored. "Thank you, my lord."

"May you be worthy of Lord Voldemort's regard, child. And what is your name? "

"Minerva McGonagall, my lord."

I heard gasps from several of the Death Eaters; either they did not know me, or had not recognized me with my hair down.

"Ah. Minerva McGonagall, the servant of Albus Dumbledore? "

"So he would believe, my lord," I said.

"And would you join us, Minerva? "

"Yes, my lord."

"You are brought to us by one of our own," Voldemort said. "But the last time this occurred..." He shot a glare at one of the two large, broad-shouldered men standing to either side of Lucius; Goyle, I assumed. "The last time... I was not impressed."

"With respect, my lord, I have met the boy, and I understand. But I am not what he is."

"And I, my lord," Severus put in quietly, "am not Goyle."

Voldemort laughed. "True, true... Well. So Dumbledore tries to learn our secrets by asking you to spy upon your old Slytherin friends, my dear? "

I nodded. "Yes, My Lord. The old fool really thinks I would betray my dear old friends...most of whom, I believe, are here with you tonight. What is there for me at Hogwarts? What is to be gained by standing against you, My Lord? I would rather win than lose."

He laughed again. "So you recognize them, do you? Show me." Voldemort gestured that I should rise, and I did so, beginning to walk slowly around the circle. I paused first before Lucius and his shadows. "Goyle," I said, nodding at the shadow whom Voldemort had glared at. "Lucius. And Crabbe." I walked on. "Mcnair. Tobias Lestrange. Dora Lestrange. Narcissa Malfoy. Alexander Avery. William Nott." I skipped over a man I did not know, and turned back to Voldemort. "The man beside Nott, I do not know. And the last, of course, is Severus Snape." I bowed. "My Lord."

"Karkaroff comes to us from abroad," Voldemort said. "So. My friends, it seems you must take greater care with those who know you. And you, child... You wish to join us? "

"Yes, my lord."

"You will prove yourself. You will prove yourself in pain, in fire, and if Rosier has truly betrayed me, you will show me proof."

"Yes, My Lord!"

"You know of the Dark Mark my Death Eaters bear, because one of my own was careless. Should you prove yourself worthy of this honor, you too may bear one. And yet you must still be bound to us by more than intent..." Voldemort's eyes searched the circle then. "One who has proven themselves to me already shall be granted the honor to mark you ours."

"Please, My Lord, I would have this honor," said a voice.

Somewhere deep within me, hidden from view, there was a shudder of deepest revulsion.

It was Lucius.

"No," Voldemort snapped. "You have given an Acolyte the mark already, Lucius. No, the honor is to another now..." He smiled. "Severus. You brought her to us; will you mark her now? "

I did not dare to ask what this 'marking' might entail; Lucius's eagerness to be the one to do it, however, along with Voldemort's words about my testing, told me nearly all I wanted to know about it just then.

Severus bowed. "If that is your wish, My Lord." I recognized the tone in his voice even if he had rarely spoken in it to me. It was a dangerous silkiness, keen-edged.

In the darkness, amidst the Death Eaters, it had a wicked sort of attractiveness.

"Yes. Mark her, then, but remember this- Until she is proven, her failures are yours, her mistakes your own."

"I understand, My Lord. Thank you."

Severus waved his wand, magicked into being a long, slender needle, and several wells of ink. He took the needle in hand, and approached the fire. He held it to the flames, hardly seeming to notice where they singed his own fingers. Only when the needle glowed a dull red did he withdraw it from the fire, and turn to face me.

The first well of ink, which was green, hissed and steamed when he dipped the needle into it. Severus left the needle resting in the ink, and the bottle hovered in midair. He caught my shoulders and spun me roughly to face him. Then his hand reached up to brush back my hair with something akin to gentleness. He swept my hair off to the side, so that it pooled over my right shoulder. I felt his fingers working at the fastening of my cloak, and then he was tossing it aside.

My heart pounded beneath his hands as he parted my robes, and then he drew back again. "My Lord, this is delicate work..."

Voldemort nodded. "Very well. Remove your mask."

Severus drew off the mask, set it aside as carefully as if it were precious to him. I saw then the firelight glinting in his eyes, recalled his question, what seemed so long ago. Do you trust me?

The answer had not changed. It did not change even as he ripped open the buttons of my shirt, as his fingers explored my skin, finally settling over my beating heart, just above the swell of my breast. I could not help but watch him work, noting how different he looked with his hair drawn back. I wanted to wrap my fingers in that tail of hair, pull him to me, fuse my lips to his.

Here, now, surrounded by the greatest enemies I had ever faced, the Dark Lord and the old comrades of my childhood, I wanted to drop my guard.

It was the pain that brought me back to myself.

The needle, held in the same gifted, steady hand that had written my name in such exquisite calligraphy, pierced my flesh at last. Then it lifted, descended again...

Blood and ink sparkled upon the needle's tip when Severus lifted it, and I realized there was magic there, in the ink, in the needle... He sucked the excess blood and ink from the needle before dipping it into the second well of ink, which was silver.

The Death Eaters began to chant, in a language I did not know and had never before heard. Voldemort hissed, but of that hissing seemed to come words... Parseltongue.

My skin burned where that needle and its ink had touched it, and as Severus bent close to work at some finer bit of detail, a thin sheen of sweat broke out upon my face. The pain seemed to grow with every touch of the needle, every beat of my heart...

His words echoed, still, within my mind. Do you trust me, Minerva? ... I will not allow serious harm to come to you. Know that. Know it, and believe it.

And still I trusted him. Still I believed.

Slowly, over the course of those painful hours, amidst the chanting of the Death Eaters and their master, the sign of the Acolyte took shape upon my breast, burned there by fire and ink and blood- a silver serpent, outlined in green. It coiled over my heart, and though I had not cried out in all that time, I gave a soft little sigh when Severus raised the needle one last time, and I knew that it was done.

He set the needle carefully aside, and bent his head once more to my breast. This time his lips touched it, and he licked away the drops of blood that ringed the mark. I moaned, and allowed a smile to spread across my face as he raised his head and I looked down upon the silver serpent of Slytherin tattooed on my skin.

"Beautiful..." I whispered. "That was exquisite, Severus."

And as if to leave no doubt as to my meaning, I took him roughly by the collar and drew him into a bruising kiss.

Voldemort gave a rich, throaty laugh. "Yes, he does do good work, does he not? We are always impressed... However. Until such time as you are honored with the Mark of the true Death Eater, the Serpent... You see it there, child, coiled over your own heart? "

With a little jolt of shock like a lightning strike, I understood it. "And is my life in your hands, My Lord?"

Voldemort smiled down at me. "Not yet, child. For now it is Severus who decides if you live or die. Although," he added with that same sardonic sort of look, "one must wonder who is the master between you now..."

I laughed. "We both serve you, Master. What else needs matter?"

"Well said." He looked down at us for another long moment before motioning us to rise to our feet again. "Death Eaters, greet your new sister."

Slowly the others removed their masks, and I saw that I had named them correctly. Dora was the first to move forward; at Voldemort's nod of approval she threw her arms around me in a tight embrace that made the serpent seem to writhe in pain. But I only smiled. "Dora... my dear."

"Welcome," Dora whispered, kissing my cheek. "Welcome home, sister."

Lucius was next. He, too, embraced me, and bent to kiss me not upon the cheek, but upon the serpent mark.

The sharp sound of a blow sliced the night, and Lucius drew back in shock, blood dripping down his face. His fist still clenched, Severus was shooting him a look of purest loathing.

"Ah yes," said Lucius with a throaty chuckle, an imitation, conscious or no, of Voldemort's own laughter. "You never did share well, did you, Severus?"

"She," Severus said flatly, "is mine."

I gave Lucius a small smile. "Besides, old friend, you're making Narcissa jealous, and we can't have that."

Lucius gritted his teeth, but in the end contented himself with a simple kiss on the cheek. "Glad you saw the sense your brothers wouldn't," he said.

After that the others became a blur; Narcissa hugging me a bit tighter than was really necessary; Tobias Lestrange, who had never much cared for physical contact, shaking my hand... And before I knew it, it was over.

All but one...

"My child," Voldemort said fondly. "Are you ours? Are you? "

I knelt before him once again. "Yes, My Lord. Yes..."

"We shall see." He raised his wand. "Crucio! "

I did scream then; I quite distinctly remember doing so as I fell, sprawling on my back in the grass, the pain like lava in my bones and blood, seeming to strike particularly sharp and deep in the newly-made serpent's mark...

And then he raised his wand, and it was over. My scream choked off, but I lay still in the grass, gasping for several moments.

"Displease me, and this is your fate. Question me, and this is your fate. Show insolence, and this is your fate." A pause. "Challenge me, and you will die. You are useful, but never indispensable. The others are proven; you are not. Question them only if they would lead you to betrayal of me. The rights and privileges they enjoy, you must earn. Do you understand? "

"Yes, My Lord," I whispered.

"Again. I cannot hear you."

"Yes, My Lord," I said, struggling to raise my voice.

"Again! "

"Yes, My Lord!"

"You are bound to us. To the Death Eaters, to Lord Voldemort. Say it! "

"I...am...bound..." I was gasping for breath now; raising my voice had seemed to make echoes of the Cruciatus come flowing back into me. "I am bound...to the Death Eaters. I am bound to Lord Voldemort."

"Good girl." Pause, then the lifting of the wand again-

Oh, please, Merlin no...no, I can't, I can't go through that again, I can't, I can't-

"CRUCIO! "

An explosion of agony, and time froze... I heard my scream as if it had come from someone else; it went on and on, an echo of an echo... But no, it wasn't an echo... That voice was still screaming, still screaming...

"You belong to Lord Voldemort. Lord Voldemort is your lord and master, even above the one who holds your life in his hands. Say it! "

And he did not lift the wand.

I had to fight my words out past the scream. "I- I belong- I belong to Lord Voldemort!"

And mercifully, the wand lifted.

I knew then what was expected of me; what horrified me was how much I truly wanted to do it. How grateful I was for the cessation of the pain.

I climbed slowly to my hands and knees. And I crawled. Towards Voldemort, and Severus behind him... I crawled, and when I reached the Dark Lord, I kissed the hem of his robe.

"Thank you, My Lord... thank you."

"Lord Voldemort shows no mercy, child. But he rewards loyal service. Remember that." He turned to Severus. "I believe you have chosen well, Severus. I believe you have brought me someone of use. You will contact me when she has done what I have asked. Let it be soon."

Severus bowed. "My Lord."

"Be certain the old man suspects nothing, Severus. BE CERTAIN. If sacrifices are required to maintain his trust, then sacrifices will be made." Voldemort eyed Goyle suspiciously. "The boy. Watch him. If he can be used, use him. But if the risks of his use outweigh..."

"I understand, My Lord."

"And if the little witch of Gryffindor betrays us..."

"I do not believe that she will, My Lord. You see all that she has endured tonight. The serpent mark..."

"Yes, she enjoyed that. It may be well to remind her that it can wound as well. But that I leave to you."

"As you will, My Lord," Severus said.

"Go now, before you are missed. We would not wish Dumbledore to grow suspicious before time." And Voldemort smiled again.

Nauseated and horror-struck, I wanted nothing so much in that moment as to black out, make the scene before me disappear. To wake in the morn and remember none of this. But I struggled to my knees instead. I could not stand, though I tried.

Voldemort looked to me with what I thought for a moment was pity. Then, "Look after her," he said, his voice clinical, detached. "If the old Mudblood-loving fool sees she has been injured, he may wonder..."

"Yes, My Lord."

Severus strode towards the fire, where he picked up my cloak and his mask. Tucking the mask under his arm, he returned to Voldemort's side with my cloak. "My Lord," he said with a final bow to Voldemort.

Voldemort nodded and turned away.

Only then did Severus drop to his knees beside me, enveloping me in my cloak. "Can you stand?" he asked.

Afraid to speak, I only shook my head.

He nodded. "I hadn't thought that you could." Severus picked me up, his gentle touch such a relief after the pain, the horror... He held me in his arms and strode quickly away from the fire and the circle.

In the deep forest shadows he spoke the words of the Apparition spell, and we left the Death Eaters behind.

I collapsed against his chest there, again on the edge of the mountain trail. Perhaps, I thought, I was not, after all, so very strong.

There was then a desire within me, to turn and be violently ill- as if I could vomit out of me all the horror, all the pain, all that I had seen that night. But I could do nothing, nothing that would change it, and so I lay in Severus's arms with my head against his chest, too tired even to weep.

His lips against my forehead then, soft, gentle as rain.

"Severus..."

He whispered my name in a voice hoarse with unshed tears- an answer, of sorts.

"How do you do it?" I whispered. "Where do you go, when you can't face them? The others, Hogwarts?"

"Don't you know?" he responded in a silky whisper. "I go to you."

"And I... I always went to you."

He laughed. "Perhaps we still..."

A chill breeze rose up then, and I shivered beneath my cloak.

"We should get you home," Severus said.

Home. Dora's words. Welcome home, sister.

"I never knew," I whispered. "I never knew I could hate them so much. And I loved them, Severus, I really did."

"I know."

And he did. That was how I survived it, that night. He knew, he really knew, what I had seen and done, and what it had cost me to stand by and let it happen. What it had cost me to embrace them like the lost friends they were. Knowing I could never trust them, wanting to anyway. Loving them again as I had before, loving them and losing them again all at once. He did know, he truly did.

"I know you do," I said. "Severus... Will you...?" Again I found it hard to speak that night; I was so tired, and the memory of the agonies so very fresh...

"Will I what?" he asked.

"Will you...take me home?"

"Is that all?" I heard him ask as he wrapped me more securely into his arms.

"It's all I know how to ask."

I closed my eyes, and after a time I felt his lips upon my forehead again. "Then you will have it. Hold on, Minerva... Minerva?"

But I was not there to hear then; perhaps mercifully consciousness fled from me at last, and I blacked out.