This is my first fanfic so be nice! Everything in bold are quotes from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and do not belong to me!
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me, they belong to J.K Rowling.
He knew what was going to happen to him as soon as he saw Lucius approach him. He knew that this would eventually happen to him. The Dark Lord did not know that it was pointless killing him, but he did. As Lucius stumbled towards him, looking lost and in pain, he knew he had to find Harry. Harry Potter, son of the envied James Potter. He shook his head, trying to block out such thoughts, he was Lily's son too. He had to protect her son, make sure that he survived this war.
Lucius now stood in front of him and finally spoke, his voice cracking, "The Dark Lord requires y-you for a service." He could practically hear the thoughts racing around Lucius' head.
He sighed absentmindedly and nodded his head at Lucius, "I know." That was all he needed to say as he strode purposely into the battle.
He was not going to the Dark Lord first. He had a, a 'service' of his own to carry out. But, where to begin? He knew what would eventually happen to him but he did not know this. He searched quickly through the battle but he knew the Dark Lord could not be kept waiting
Again he strode purposely but this time towards the infamous, Whomping Willow. He crept slowly, coming closer to the Dark Lord with every step. As he entered the tunnel he allowed himself a sigh of sorrow. Harry will never know. He came to the entrance of the Shrieking Shack and turned to face the Dark Lord, forcing himself to look at those pitiless red eyes. They were so unlike her eyes that would be full of love and compassion. If only they would look at him one, last time he knew he would be forgiven. Sorrow pierced his heart like a shard of glass and then was overcome by fear. He saw something in the corner behind him, it was Harry. He was sure of it. He took a deep breath and knew he had to accept his fate. He forced himself to act for the Dark Lord's side one last time.
". . .my Lord, their resistance is crumbling-"
"-and is doing so without your help," said Voldemort, in his high, clear voice. "Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there . . . almost."
He had one last chance to get to Harry.
"Let me find the boy. Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please"
The Dark Lord stood up. What he said next didn't surprise him. He knew this subject would come up eventually.
"I have a problem, Severus," said Voldemort softly.
"My, Lord?" he said
Voldemort raised the Elder Wand, holding it as delicately and precisely as a conductor's baton.
"Why doesn't it work for me, Severus?"
He stayed silent, pretending to be shocked, frightened, everything he was not. The Dark Lord was expecting an answer.
"My-my Lord? I do not understand. You- you have preformed extraordinary magic with that wand."
"No," said Voldemort. "I have preformed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand . . no. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago."
The Dark Lord was angry, he could sense it. It was partly because of his own assumed ignorance of the Dark Lord's plan. The Dark Lord spoke again.
"No difference."
He knew it was better to stay quiet and try to be calm and to appear ignorant. He had to continue to use meaningless answers. It no longer mattered to him whether the Dark Lord knew about him or not. He knew what was going to happen in the end.
"I have thought long and hard, Severus . . . do you know why I have called you back from the battle?
"No, my Lord, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter."
"You sound like Lucius. Neither of you understands Potter as I do."
Of course he understood Harry! Well more than the Dark Lord anyway. Why had McGonagall held him up? She knew where the boy was earlier.
"He does not need finding. Potter will come to me. I know his weakness, you see, his one great flaw. He will hate watching the others struck down around him, knowing that it is for him that it happens. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come."
"But my Lord, he might be killed accidentally by one other than yourself-"
He was trying to buy himself more time, to allow himself to think.
"My instructions to my Death Eaters have been perfectly clear. Capture Potter. Kill his friends- the more, the better- but do not kill him. But it is of you I wished to speak, Severus, not Harry Potter. You have been valuable to me. Very valuable."
"My Lord knows I seek only to serve him. But- let me go and find the boy, my Lord. Let me bring him to you. I know I can-"
"I have told you, no!"
He had angered the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord cared about nothing more about defeating Harry. If he could care, he thought bitterly. He too felt anger.
"My concern at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy!"
"My Lord, there can be no question, surely-?
"-but there is a question, Severus. There is."
Ah, the Dark Lord had suspicions about him. Whether they were true or not didn't matter, now.
"Why did both wands I have used fail when directed at Harry Potter?"
"I-I cannot answer that, my Lord."
"Can't you"
His suspicions were correct then. Where they?
"My wand of yew did everything of which I asked it, Severus, except to kill Harry Potter. Twice it failed. Olllivander told me under torture of the twin cores, told me to take another's wand. I did so, but Lucius's wand shattered upon meeting Potter's"
"I-I have no explanation, my Lord."
He had to look away from his red eyes, he didn't know all of the answers to the Dark Lord's concern but he dared not say it. At the moment he valued other's lives more than his. The Dark Lord went on about taking the Elder Wand from Dumbledore's grave. Only when he had finished did he look at him. He tried one last time.
"My Lord- let me go to the boy-"
"All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here," said Voldemort, his voice barely louder than a whisper, "wondering, wondering, why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner . . . and I think I have the answer."
He refused to speak, afraid of what might happen to him.
"Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen."
He was going to do it soon. He hoped it would be quick.
"The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine."
He knew he had to fight for his life, to die nobly like so many others. He raised his wand, not knowing what the Dark Lord was going to do to him. It soon became horribly clear. The Dark Lord dircted his most feared words at his snake,
"Kill."
He screamed. He couldn't help it. He couldn't sense anything but the pain in his neck. He didn't even know that the Dark Lord had left the room until he saw Harry over him. He wanted Harry to take his memories and go, he will at least know the truth. But he had one last request,
"Look . . . at . . . me. . ."
He saw those beautiful green eyes look down on him one, last time. Harry's eyes, Lily's eyes. He knew he would be forgiven, "I just know," was his last waking thought, before he fell into darkness and felt no more.