She hears tales of his demise

After that night, Rose didn't see Snape again. She waited in her chambers, listening for the familiar, heavy tread in the corridor, for the snick of the latch. There was only silence.

Days bled into a week. The only visitors were the silent house-elves who brought her food and tended to the infants sleeping in their enchanted bassinets. The reward, she realized, was this, solitude. A gilded cage, yes, but one where she was the sole, cherished occupant.

She learned of Snape's fate not from the Dark Lord, but from the whispers of the other Death Eaters who passed her in the halls. Bellatrix, her face a manic mask of glee, stopped her one afternoon.

"Did you hear, my sweet Rose?" she'd crowed, her voice sharp as broken glass. "The traitor got what he deserved! The Dark Lord himself performed the... interrogation. They say he screamed for hours. Something about a doe. How pathetic! The Dark Lord has given his position to young Malfoy. A much more trustworthy face, don't you think?"

Another death eater named Yaxley who gave her the next heir, confirmed the story with a lurid grin during pillow talk in the breeding chambers. "Saw them drag what was left of him to the cells. Not much left, mind you. The Dark Lord wanted to make an example."

A few months later Rose is call back to Voldemort office. He leers at the woman who birth 100 new wizards and witches who are growing slowly into his new pawns. The evil old incantation fasting the birthing process. Rose look at him who held a confidence dark aura around him.

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