The Quest
This story happens right before "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows"
Part I
"I want Harry Potter, not excuses!" snarled Voldemort, flicking his wand in anger. A chair flew into the air, and Severus Snape fell from the rising chair with a crash. The several Death-Eaters there laughed, though the loudest of those was the cackling of Bellatrix Lestrange.
Snape stood up, glaring at the Dark Lord. "I would appreciate, my lord," Snape uttered, his annoyance boiling, "if you chose another loyal follower to humiliate. I would recommend Lestrange, for her ego seems to have overstuffed of late..."
Bellatrix stood up suddenly, her lit wand illuminating the contempt in her face.
"You dare—?!" she hissed, aiming her wand at Snape menacingly. Snape watched her with an unconcerned expression, explicitly parallel to the look of a father putting up with a child's tantrum.
"Yes, I dare," replied Snape with a false reverence, eying her carefully, "because I have no reason to respect you, Bellatrix. On the contrary, I have found that being anywhere near you has become a rather unpleasant experience—"
Bellatrix's hand swished in the air, and her usually soft voice was filled with hate. "Cru—" she started to say, but her wand flew into the air and hit the wall on the opposite side of the room. She looked at Snape with loathing, as he slipped his now-revealed wand back into the folds of his robe.
"You didn't close your mind, Bellatrix," Snape said, now eying her with something close to amusement. He folded his arms. "And as long as I can read your thoughts, there is nothing you can do to hurt me." He sneered at her. "I can see your actions even before you do."
After a moment of strained silence, a light clapping made everyone's head turn. Voldemort had a smirk on his noseless face, and he clapped two fingers together.
"Quite amusing, Severus," said Voldemort, stopping clapping and leaning back on his black chair. "Though I do not think it a wise action to enrage Bellatrix to such a level that it might become hazardous to your continued existence."
Snape smiled thinly, his greasy black hair waving to one side. "Do not be anxious for my heath, my lord," he said, his eyes narrowing disdainfully at Bellatrix, "I can take care of myself… especially to such a pathetic waste."
All the Death-Eaters watched with morbid fascination as thousands of thoughts appeared on Bellatrix's face, all of them wishing horrible, terrible things on Snape.
But they all were disappointed to see Bellatrix shake her head to focus, and then she smiled honey-sweetly at Snape. "Just remember, my dear Severus," she said her tone still as sweet as candy, "that for such 'a pathetic waste,' I know how to make people suffer."
"Oh, I have no doubt of that," said Snape, eying Bellatrix's husband pityingly, "I feel extremely sorry for your husband. He has to put up with you every day. If I was married to such a wretched person such as you, I would have killed you in your sleep years ago."
Then Snape turned to Voldemort without a second glance at Bellatrix. "If you do not object, my lord, I will take my leave… I find that I have begun to exhibit the signs of a stressful headache."
Voldemort still had a smirk as he watched his two death-eaters battle with wits. He nodded to Snape. "You have my leave. Travel well, Severus."
Snape gave a small bow. "Thank you, my lord," he said, and then with a curled sneer at Bellatrix, he left.
After Snape left, Bellatrix whirled at Voldemort.
"Give me permission, master, and I will curse out that insolent tongue—" she started, but Voldemort waved a hand to silence her.
"Although I am sure your creativity would amuse me, I find that Snape still has many uses for me. You know that he will be instrumental to my plans for Harry Potter."
"But do the reasons for keeping him alive outweigh those of letting me have him?" asked Bellatrix, pushing her control of the Dark Lord to the limit. Her gamble was lost with interest.
Voldemort turned slowly to her, his red eyes gleaming in anger. "Do you question my actions, Bellatrix?" he asked; his voice cold and calculating. "Even after all those years in Azkaban, all the while believing in me… you still have doubts that I know what I am doing?"
To Voldemort's satisfaction, he saw a glimmer of fear in Bellatrix's eyes.
"N-no, of course not, my lord," she quickly said, "you know that I have never questioned your authority." Her eyes tried desperately to hide her reaction of panic. But Lord Voldemort had seen it, and was satisfied.
His voice was soothing and assuring. "Of course I know, my dear," he said, his face contorting to the closest thing of a smile as he could generate, "I know how you feel and what you have sacrificed for me. That sacrifice will not be in vain, so long as you serve me and obey me unconditionally."
"Of course, my lord." Bellatrix's reply was soft and faint, but Voldemort nodded.