Chapter 1

Hogwarts castle is quiet. All of its once previous occupants, gone. This is the aftereffects of The War, The Lost War. Dumbledore is dead. The leaders of the light, destroyed. All that is left is the small resistance… but tonight that will follow in destruction as well.

Only one light burns within the darkened castle. Deep within the dungeons, the Potions Master works vigorously. Unlike the rest of the ancient building, this small place stills houses a tenant.

Shifting from one cauldron to the next, Severus Snape expertly adds ingredients of all kinds to the bubbling, steaming contents. His skin, pale from unseen sunlight, stands out among his dark black attire. Sweat beads rest upon his forehead. Brushing them away with the side of his arm, they disappear within the mass of slick black hair.

"Ahhh!"

Severus drops a bottle. Crashing to the floor, its contents splatter over the cold stone. Groaning, he clutches at his left arm. Beneath his sleeve, the Dark Mark burns. Pain emanates from it, signifying his masters inpatients. Pushing aside his discomfort, Severus snatches another vial from the stocks cabinet at the far end of his lab. Hastily stirring the potion in a counterclockwise fashion, he waits until the liquid turns a light shad of green. It's done.

Severus reaches for an empty vial, pouring the newly created concoction into it. Holding it firmly in hand, he swiftly walks to his adjacent quarters. His room is orderly, every possession in its marked place. One would suspect the Potions Master's living quarters to be dark, dreary, uninviting. This however, is not the case. A light color of taupe paints the walls accented by deep Slytherin-green curtains. Walking to his chair situated next to the bookcase overflowing with bounded books old and new, he takes his outer cloak resting upon its tall back.

Sliding each arm though the sleeves, Severus carefully places the small potion vial deep within the cloak's pocket for safe keeping. He strides over to the well-used fireplace, taking a handful of floo power. Throwing it into the grate, Severus's steady voice speaks his desired location.

"Malfoy Manor"

As he steps into the large green flames that engulf him, the once most feared Professor by students instantly disappears.

0o0o0

"My Lord, it is completed."

"Bring it here, Severus."

The dark haired wizard leaves his kneeling position, carefully walking to Voldemort. The Dark Lord sits upon his throne, lazily toying with his wand between his long withered fingers. Situated to the right side of him is Lucius. The blonde has his usual smug smile, deep desire to please his lord evident to everyone.

Standing before his master, Severus slowly reaches into his pocket. Grasping the completed potion gently in his callused hand, he slowly hands it over. Voldemort's ruby eyes glint as he appreciates the vials contents.

"You have done well, Severus. For your devotion to my cause, you will be heavily rewarded."

The old Professor exhales deeply, unaware he was holding his breath. "Thank you, my Lord."

Being waved to the Dark Lord's other side, Severus hastily moves. Relieved that the immense stress looming over him this past month is finally gone, he stands silently next to the large golden throne as Voldemort addresses the mass of Death Eaters within the hall. Anticipation among everyone is great.

"Many of you are aware the last resistance has finally been taken by us. We now have full control over Great Britain."

Cheers break out among the crowd as the Dark Lord pauses. Silence falls again as he raises his hands in attention. Voldemort's voice rings throughout the room once again. His power is eminent as he takes control of the entire room.

"At this time, let us bring out our guests. Shall we?"

All eyes turn to the large metal doors framed on the entry wall. As if on cue, the large structures begin to open, allowing the persons behind them entry. Two dark-cloaked Death Eater's lead a group of struggling captives into the large hall as two follow from behind. The captives are led by chains latched to their ankles, wrists, and necks. Clapping, cheers, and laughs fill the room as the sea of followers celebrate their victory.

Severus's attention is drawn from the booming noise as he notices the familiar brown haired child. Harry Potter, unlike his comrades, hangs his head, avoiding eye contact from the onlookers. He slowly follows the tugs from the chains, not by any means trying to defy the leaders. Squinting to have a better look, Severus takes in the boys appearance. Harry's cloths, or what used to be classified as cloths, are ripped and torn. Appearing to be more like rages, the disheveled clothing shows the boys marked skin that is covered in bruises and blood, both dried and wet.

When the group of prisoners are unceremoniously yanked onto the floor, silence falls. Turning his head slightly to look at his master, Severus notes the large smirk and glint of triumph plastered upon his face. He waits for Voldemort to speak. Only the sounds of struggling as the heavy metal chains clank together resonates around the room. Finally, he begins.

"What a pleasure of all of you to finally join us."

The Dark Lord watches intently as the chained group before him yell out profanities, cursing his reign. He ignores their outbursts, too curious at the raven haired boy before him. The leader of the rebels has yet raised his gaze from the floor. He sits passively on his knees, no means of trying to escape. No sound leaves his chapped lips.

Voldemort stands. Leaving the confounds of his throne, he moves forward towards impassive Boy Who Lived. His wand rests under the boys chin, lifting his head up. Once bright green eyes are now dull and faded. They hazily gaze at the dark wizard, vacant of expression, of passion.

Severus watches Voldemort examine the boy. Ever since meeting Potter, he has despised the insufferable Gryffindor. Now however, a small twinge of concern for the boy fills him. Despite this newfound feeling, Severus remains in his place. Standing by the empty throne opposite of Lucius, he continues to watch his Lord. In a swift move, Voldemort directs his wand on the famous Gryffindor.

"Crucio"

Potter falls forward from his knees onto the hard stone floor. Blood stains the cold floor beneath him from his impact, nose obviously broken. His body convulses under the curses power. His muscles contort by the spasms, moving in random directions. Severus couldn't help but be impressed by the boy. Throughout the minutes of continuous torture, Harry hadn't let out any cries of distress. The only marker that showed the boy to be alive was the silent tears spilling from his dull eyes.

Finally, Voldemort lifts the curse. He silences the shouts from the other rebels as he makes his leave back to his seat. No doubt by his expression, the Dark Lord was disappointed by the boys lack of willpower.

"Take them away, back to the dungeons. However, isolate Potter… I have plans for him."

The four lower ranked Death Eaters grab the chains once more, leading the struggling party back out of the hall. Whispers and muttering follow them as the mass of onlookers watch the prisoners depart.

Softly speaking, Voldemort beckons him forward with his hand. "Severus"

Stepping closer to his master, the Potions Master leans forward. "Yes, my Lord?"

"The boy is yours, my gift to you."

Taken aback by this surprising notion, Severus's heartbeat quickens beneath his robes. "My Lord?"

Voldemort ignores his follower's question and stands up once more. Turning to face his loyal follower, he addresses him for the last time this evening.

"Use him well."

With that, the Dark Lord vanishes on the spot.

Hope you liked the first chapter! I have written another story as well called The New Consort. It's on my page if you're interested in Voldemort/Harry pairings. Until next time…