The Riddle Mansion stood alone amid the hillside of Little Hangleton, a good distance from the neighboring villages. It was late at night, and only a lone, hooded figure walked along the grass towards the abandoned home that had once belonged to a wealthy Muggle family.

The Dark Mark shined brightly over the mansion, now visible to Death Eaters. Severus Snape rolled back his sleeve to reveal his own burning mark, indicating two things; his former master was near, and Lord Voldemort was.furious.

Snape was not too worried about the wrath of Voldemort, he would pay most dearly for his lateness, but Voldemort was too pragmatic to throw away such a useful asset as Snape. Snape knew exactly how he would deal with his master's anger

As he approached the Riddle manor, Snape began applying his extensive training in Occlumency, purging his mind of any thoughts or feelings that would give away his true intentions. He couldn't erase everything that ran through his veins, the Dark Lord would become too suspicious.

So he allowed his very real rage directed toward Albus Dumbledore to remain, as well as his genuine hatred for Harry Potter, the boy who had just escaped from the Dark Lord for the fourth time. Everything else had to be cleansed from his soul.

Precious, entitled Potter. Like father, like son.

Two robed, masked figures guarded the front porch leading into the hollow, rickety homestead.

One of them raised his wand upon recognizing the newcomer and before Snape could retaliate, the other Death Eater seized his arm and said, "Peace, Goyle."

Snape relaxed upon hearing the voice of Lucius Malfoy and threw back his hood as his old friend and colleague approached.

"You're taking an awful risk, coming here now," Lucius said as he removed his mask, reaching to clasp Snape's hand, "the Dark Lord is in no good mood tonight."

"I'm well aware, Lucius," Snape replied in his usual cool manner, not looking the other man right in the eye, "I shall present him with my... reasons...for returning late and hope they suffice."

"I'm due to see Cornelius Fudge soon," Lucius informed the Potions Master regretfully, "I'm afraid there's little I can do to vouch for you now."

"I'll take my chances," Snape replied as he stepped past the senior Goyle onto the decrepit wooden porch towards the open doorway.

The main lobby of the manor was dark, lit only by the Dark Mark above the house. A hiss and the sound of a slithering snake sent an involuntary shiver down Snape's back.

The fireplace in the sitting room was active, the flames illuminating a tall, thin figure facing away from Snape. Nagini, the Dark Lord's pet, slithered dutifully at his feet.

Nagini let out a hiss and the Dark Lord, in his high, cold voice, replied to her in Parseltongue, a language far beyond the comprehension of Snape.

At last, the Dark Lord spoke, still facing away from Snape.

"You are dismissed, Lucius."

"Thank you, my lord." Lucious briefly knelt on the boarded floor, then stood and with a flick of his wand, Disapparated from the spot.

Nagini was now facing Snape directly, exposing her sharp, long fangs and glaring hungrily at the new arrival. As if no time had passed since he had last seen his master, Snape knelt on the floor, not daring to look up at Voldemort.

Voldemort at last turned around, fixing his scarlet eyes on the man bowing before him.

"I confess, Severus, I thought you had forgotten me in favor of old Dumbledore," he said, "I wondered if you had gotten too comfortable at Hogwarts and were content to live out your life under the old man's protection."

Snape took a deep breath and gulped, about to speak to the man who he had once worshipped and later mortally despised, after fourteen years once again in the presence of the most feared Dark Wizard of the modern age.

"Never, my lord. I have played my part under Dumbledore's watch in the hope of returning to your side one day."

An excrucating silence followed broken by a purr from the malicious Nagini. Snape waited as Voldemort paced the room.

"I want to believe you, Severus, but I'm afraid I can't. Why, if you waited for me as faithfully as you now claim, did you not seek me out as did Barty Crouch, or Bellatrix Lestrange. Why, after the war was over, did you choose to remain at Hogwarts at Dumbledore's side?"

Snape had replayed this exact scenario in his mind many times tonight, as well as in his sleep for the past decade and a half, and responded with his ready answer.

"Dumbledore is a very powerful wizard, my lord, I cannot deny it. My only answer to your humble excellency is that I hoped that one day, with you returned to full power, I could take advantage of his trust to bring him down from within. Believe me, Master, there is nobody I hate more than Albus Dumbledore."

This wasn't a total lie, Snape mused as he awaited judgement from his master.

Nagini moved her long body between the Dark Lord's pacing feet as Snape's eyes remained trained to the blackened floor.

Voldemort slowly drew his wand from his long, black robes. He caresses the white stick in his hands, still getting accustomed to its feel, and then pointed it at his former servant.

"Crucio!"

This was not Snape's first time under the Cruciatus curse, and he had mentally braced himself for its affect ever since there was a doubt in his mind that Voldemort would one day return. The curse itself brought great agony even to the strongest and most disciplined beings, but Snape had already endured far worse torture that made it seem like child's play.

Yet to satisfy his master, and give Voldemort the pleasure he sought, Snape screamed, as if the Curse was the worst pain he'd experienced in his life. He howled as he rolled around, unable to control his joints or his voice box.

As last Voldemort relented and stared hard at the man before him.

Once again, Voldemort pointed his wand at Snape, this time uttering a different spell. "Legillimens!"

And thus the Dark Lord was allowed into the mind of Severus Snape. The mind, but not the heart.

Clear your mind, clear your mind.

And as Snape laid on the floor of the Riddle Mansion, he could see exactly what he was allowing Voldemort to see, the parts not hidden by his masterful use of Occlumency.

He relived his own resentment as Dumbledore awarded Gryffindor the House Cup, his burning rage as Harry and his friends cheered and embraced.

The hatred was as fresh as it had been the first time as Dumbledore ordered him to help protect the Chosen One, the son of the man who had once been the scourge of his existence. How dare he ask that of me, after he failed to do his part?

Snape was snapped out of his memories by the Dark Lord. "Your hatred for young Potter stands strong, as does your resentment of Dumbledore. However, I have further reason for concern. Do you recall, three years ago, a man by the name of Quirnus Quirrell?"

"I remember him all too well, my Lord," Snape replied as he climbed back onto his feet and for the first time, faced the Dark Lord. Those slits that served as eyes, that hollow, reptilian face, the pale skin that was twisted by extensive use of Dark Magic...

"Then you will recall my efforts to obtain the Philosopher's Stone from Hogwarts School, through possession of Quirrell. What were your exact words that night? I believe they were 'you don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell. We'll chat again when you've decided where your loyalties lay.' Why, if you were waiting for me with such patience and intent, would you attempt to aid Old Albus I'm stopping me from attaining the one thing at the time that could have brought me back? Can you explain that one to me, Severus?"

"My lord... your greatness remembers Quirrell as well as I do, and such a wise being as yourself will recognize a fool when he sees one. Quirrell was a weak being, and thus was naturally drawn to power. It was my fear that the coward Quirrell would ultimately betray your lordship and use the Stone for himself instead."

Snake waited with his anxiety beginning to rise, doubt in himself creeping in for the first time. He pushed it down quickly, unable to afford anything but confidence in his use to the Dark Lord. That was what would keep him alive.

"Indeed, Quirrell was a cowardly fool, much like Wormtail," Voldemort admitted, "he proved incompetent in the end, defeated by the touch of a pubescent boy."

"My lord, I promise to continue to serve you as faithfully as I once did, with no higher motive than your will. With the trust of Dumbledore, I intend to use my postion to give you the utmost advantage over our enemies. I can help bring down the Ministry and Hogwarts from within."

Voldemort gazed down at Nagini as he contemplated Snape's offer of renewed service.

"Very well, Severus, all the evidence points in your favor, and a spy such as yourself would be beyond useful at this time. You shall continue to live and resume your role as a double agent. Do not forget however, that Lord Voldemort is your true master, not Dumbledore, and Voldemort does not forgive so easily. Nor do I tolerate uselessness."

Snape once again bowed to his master, his confidence in his ultimate mission restored. "I shall maintain my asset to you as long as I can, my lord."

"Good. Return to Hogwarts, Severus Snape, and ensure Dumbledore's deluded confidence remains. I will be waiting for news from the Order of the Phoenix. Do me proud, Severus."

Snape nodded respectfully and began to stride out of the sitting room.

Another yell of, "CRUCIO!" and Snape was on the floor, hit by totally unexpected pain, yelling throughout the walls of the Riddle Manor.