Briar approached the Davies Manor with a numbness settling in her bones. She knew she was starting to revert back to her old ways, but she figured it may have been helpful for what she was about to endure.

So, as she stepped up to the front door of her old house and grabbed the handle with sweaty hands, she allowed herself to dissociate a little bit, if only to make what was about to come a little easier.

After the door swung open silently, she took quiet steps into the house. She knew she couldn't avoid Gideon forever, but her footsteps slowed dramatically while she moved throughout the hallways and towards the place she knew he'd be.

She knew exactly where he'd be because even though the hall was pristinely clean and free of any sign of stress, this situation reminded her of another day. Of her worst day in existence thus far.

Would this day be just as bad?

Briar was only a few steps away from the dining room now, just barely out of sight of the doorframe, and she knew that in just a few seconds, she would come face to face with the man of her nightmares once again...but she had to do it. She had to face this for Neville because as much as she feared this, she couldn't let Neville suffer for her.

With sweaty palms and a racing heart, she stepped into the dining room. Her stomach dropped to her feet as she scanned the room. She hadn't expected such a large audience.

Malfoy met her eyes from his seat, and she saw the fear flashing in his brief gaze. She hoped her own eyes hadn't betrayed her as his had because she knew that she wasn't as lucky as him in that moment. No one else had been looking at him. Rather, they had all been staring at her when she entered the room.

Bellatrix giggled and patted the empty seat beside her, but Voldemort lifted a hand to silence the obnoxious witch. After a few beats, Voldemort motioned to the empty seat beside him and suggested, "Sit here, little one."

Briar didn't move at first, and her eyes connected with Professor Snape's at the table. He was staring at her blankly, and his black, greasy hair looked even worse than she remembered. When he raised an eyebrow in her direction, her blood ran cold with realization. He had killed Dumbledore just a few short weeks ago, though his eyes told nothing of the horrors he had inflicted on their world with his recent actions.

In response to Briar's continued position near the door, Voldemort slammed a hand onto the table, which made Briar jolt slightly, but she knew she couldn't prolong this any longer. She swallowed hard and stepped forward to take the seat beside Voldemort. She sat in the chair stiffly and felt her entire body become rigid when Voldemort put a frigid hand on her face. He tutted, "Mm, I heard of your power, little one. You'll be very helpful for my cause."

With a recklessness uncharacteristic for Briar, she shoved his bony hand away and snarled, "I would rather die than help you."

Gideon Davies had moved to a standing position beside her once she sat down, and at this biting remark, he hit her across the face.

Air hissed through her teeth, but she made no other indication that such action had hurt her. Her eyes met Voldemort's again with a cold gaze, and he slowly smiled and a cruel twinkle settled in his eyes. Briar didn't look away, and she didn't back down. She refused to help the people that had hurt those she cared about. If it came down to it, she would rather die a hero than let them corrupt her.

Her resolve started to flicker when Voldemort trailed, "Hm, so much like your mother... You even have that little Gryffindor boy like her."

A rock had formed in Briar's stomach, and icy fingers of panic spread out from her stomach, freezing everything they touched.

Voldemort mused, "You're right, little one; I could kill you for your disobedience, but wouldn't it be so much more fun to kill your little soulmate and have you watch? ....Hm, yes. That does sound fun. Someone get me the boy, will you?"

Briar's vision turned cloudy as she breathed, "No, please. Please, I'll do it. Don't hurt him. Please."

The monster lifted his hand to stop the death eater who had risen to their feet to find Neville. The death eater lowered themselves back into their seat with this silent command, and Briar's pulse slowed for a second, but Voldemort's sickening smile made a new wave of nausea rise in her body.

Voldemort looked at Gideon and a couple of the other nearby death eaters with a pointed look before motioning to Briar impatiently. One of the death eaters that Briar didn't know then pinned her shoulders back to the chair she was seated on while Gideon dragged the sleeve of her jacket up above her elbow.

She didn't struggle as they held her down because she knew that Neville's life would be in danger if she did, and that was her only comfort in this horrible situation. It was all for him. Every horrible second in this place would give Neville the freedom he deserved. This wasn't a place for an angel like him, but Briar could survive this. She would survive it for him.

When Voldemort lifted his hand and enclosed his cold fingers around her forearm, she let out an ear-piercing scream at the sudden pain. If she hadn't been blinded by the searing pain in her arm, she would have seen the flinches of a few of the death eaters at the table. But as it were, the flesh-burning sensations on her arm had stolen her attention and her breath.

After the initial shock, her screams dissipated, and her chest heaved to cope with the nearly unbearable pain. When Voldemort finally pulled away, the dark mark was permanently stained into her skin, and her heart cracked at this thought, but she knew that she was doing it for him.

No matter how horrible this became for her, she would bear it all with bravery for him. She knew that if it came down to it, she would do just about anything to keep him safe.

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