1. A Meeting and A Challenge (A/N: I said I'd never, ever do it. Well, shoot me, I am. Posting this, that is. It is nothing more than an exercise in not-writing-slash, and in putting all the gratuitous plot-devices I could into a story. There are millions like this one out there, I'm sure, but I like to think something exactly like this has never been done, and might even have a few original bits.

There will be NO SLASH. Overtly, at least. I'm a Lupin/Black 'shipper, what can I do, but they only have one scene so far. If any other slashiness is revealed, you all have my permission to kill me slowly and painfully.

Still rated PG-13, though, for some cussing and imagery. If Buffy can be PG- 13, so can this. And don't expect more than a chapter a week- I'm writing about three other fics at the same time.

That said, enjoy.)

As the day's final lesson grew to a close, students were more than surprised to be let out of potions nearly three minutes early. Sixth years, they were almost used to the Potions Master and his intimidation. Getting practically kicked out of class wasn't a part of the program- at least, not at the end of the lesson. Cautiously keeping quiet until they were out of sight of the classroom, they speculated about possible reasons until dinner.

Their speculation would've become more extreme had they seen the teacher after they left. Snape rubbed his arm hard and slumped in his chair, silently swearing under his breath. Then pulled back his sleeve, revealing the black, burning Dark Mark. It had been getting clearer over the week, and was now burning black and impossible to ignore. He'd have to answer his Master's call tonight, and he'd better prepare a few things before he left. It was one of Voldemort's little games, increasing the strength of the call throughout the week, so that on Friday he'd be forced to answer. The cycle left him very little free time over the weekends, but didn't force him to cancel classes or ask for a replacement teacher. It was a double game of trickery- Snape knew, and Voldemort knew that he knew, that Snape was spying both ways. The charade was simply kept up for the sake of other Death Eaters, since he was still valuable. For how long, though, he didn't know.

Finally forcing himself to stand, Snape tidied up the classroom, then disenchanted a wall to reveal the door to his rooms. He opened the door and surveyed the room. It was cold looking but comfortable, the stone walls mostly covered with books and potion ingredients, all of them perfectly ordered and neat. He took several unmarked flasks and combined several drops of each in a mug, leaving sugar, a teabag and a small teapot enchanted to keep water hot indefinitely next to it. The painkiller that resulted was usually helpful after Death Eater meetings, and he wanted to have it ready for whenever he came back. If he came back at all. He pushed the thought out of mind. Each meeting was more dangerous than the preceding ones, and they had been getting more and more frequent. There has been at least half a dozen, and it wasn't even Christmas yet. Voldemort could sense fear, though, and Snape had trained himself not to feel any. What did he care about dying, anyway? He left a warm blanket and clean clothes on the bed for later, then sighed and marched up the stairs to deal with the last thing he had to do before he could leave. Students that happened to cross his path didn't look at him, and moved away as fast as they could- his mood was famous, as well as almost physically palpable.

Snape reached Dumbledore's office and whispered the password. The statue moved aside and he stood stiffly, waiting to be asked inside.

"Come on in, Severus, I was just finishing a report to the ministry." Dumbledore beckoned him in. "Tea?"

"No, thank you, headmaster." Snape's voice was strained, and Dumbledore's eyes immediately lost the amused twinkle. "I'm afraid I don't have the time." He showed the headmaster the Dark Mark, and Dumbledore frowned.

"Already? I must say he's becoming more and more demanding. Very well then." He rose, and so did Snape. "Good luck, Severus, and be careful. Report to me when you come back."

"Of course, Headmaster." Snape nodded shortly. Despite the curt exchange, he knew that the headmaster worried. Still, he'd taken the mission upon himself and wouldn't back down. Gliding silently through the school, he slipped through the shadows to the very edge of the Forbidden Forest, cleared his mind completely, and Apparated with no destination in mind. He knew that the Mark would draw him straight to the Lord, and no where else.

He braced his body for impact as soon as he landed, kneeling in front of Voldemort. Quickly enough, the all-too-familiar word arrived.

"Crucio!"

There was really no way to prepare oneself for the excruciating agony. Snape managed not to scream for about five seconds, then surrendered to the pain. Thankfully, Voldemort only kept it up for a minute or so. Snape spat out dirt and pulled himself up, surveying his surroundings. They were, as usual, in a clearing he didn't recognize. He wasn't even certain they were still in England. He looked up at The Dark Lord, then hastily lowered his head. Insolence was the last thing he needed to show, right now.

"Severus. I'm so happy to see you've finally deigned to answer my call." Voldemort purred, and Snape stifled a shiver.

"I had to wait until the end of the day, Master." He explained, knowing it really wouldn't matter. He focused on Voldemort, ignoring the circle of Death Eaters around him, although he knew exactly who they were.

"I'm sure." Voldemort nodded, then waved his wand again, almost negligently, "Crucio."

The tiny part of Snape's brain that managed to detach itself from the effects of the curse noted with interest that Voldemort hadn't cursed him more than once since the first time he'd returned to the Death Eater. He'd done it over ten times before he'd been satisfied then, and it'd taken Snape more than a week to recuperate. Beyond the muscles convulsing uncontrollably, a small knot of fear started in is gut. It grew larger when the curse finally ended and a voice from the circle spat at him, "Traitor!" It took all of his considerable self-control not to flinch and to stay focused on the figure in front of him.

"Silence, Malfoy." The Dark Lord's voice was silky smooth, almost amused, and yet more terrifying than if he'd been screaming. "Do not judge in haste."

"Yes, Master." Malfoy immediately stepped back, cowed. Snape sneered mentally and spared a millisecond of pity for the man. Then he went back to being very, very worried.

"Master." He started, but was silenced by a freezing look.

"Unless you haven't yet had enough, Severus, silence is your lot as well." He nodded, lowering his eyes again.

"Now, this-" One bony hand motioned at the circle, "is a trial. They-" This time indicating the collected Death Eaters, "are merely spectators. I shall be judge, jury, and if need be, executioner." Snape didn't doubt for a second that Voldemort would enjoy killing him slowly, and won't regret the loss of his best spy at all. He didn't try to defend himself, but stayed still and silent.

"Let's begin then. The charge is obviously treason. More specifically, spying on my faithful followers for the ministry. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"No Master." Snape could've pointed out that he hadn't been spying for the ministry itself, but that wouldn't have been very wise.

"Excellent. I didn't think you would. Very well. All the evidence is against you. This court," There was malicious glee in the word "finds you guilty." Voldemort paused, and Snape steeled himself another curse. It didn't come, though. "Before I decide your punishment, you'll kindly tell me every single thing you can think of about the defenses of Hogwarts School. Now."

"I've told you all I know." Snape said confidently. He should have known it wouldn't work.

"I require more than that. Crucio."

The cursing and continued probing of his memory finally did the trick, and Snape listed out every ward, charm and safeguard the school had. He didn't feel too guilty about divulging the information. Dumbledore could remodel the school's entire defense system in less than ten minutes, and he was certain there were many charms he didn't know about. When the interrogation was finally over he was trembling, his sight blurred and barely holding himself up.

"Very good, Severus." Voldemort turned to the others and ignored Snape for a second, leaving him to sink gratefully to the ground. "Leave us."

"But Master." Malfoy again. The man was an idiot, plain and simple, and his arrogance was rewarded with the Lord's favorite curse. When he'd finally stopped screaming, Malfoy was silent. One by one, the Death Eaters Apparated away. When at last they were alone in the clearing, Voldemort pinned Snape down with a glare, then said coldly, "Stand up, Severus."

Unable to resist the voice, Snape pulled himself to his feet stiffly. He didn't look at Voldemort's face while he waited for his fate to be decided. Finally the Dark Lord sighed.

"What shall I do with you now, Severus? I must say, I'd hate to have to kill you. You are a useful spy, and such a delight to have around." A pale, skeletal hand stroked Snape's face, and he shuddered at the chill, as well as at the implications of the words. He knew that Voldemort used more than one way to keep his followers in line, and had no wish to experience that particular way. "Yes, we could have fun, you and me. You are far more powerful than any of those pathetic idiots. If you would only leave behind the silly notions you have, the foolish ideals Albus shoved into your head." Voldemort's red eyes brightened. "I have decided. I'll give you one last chance, Severus, to prove your ultimate loyalty to me. Not to my cause, Severus- to me personally. If you fail me, I shall be the one to deal with you, and I doubt you'll enjoy that. Now, I ask for something very simple, really. I want you to leave Hogwarts and join me as my second in command. And I want you to take the Potter boy with you, and bring him to me."

Snape swallowed hard. "Master, I can't," He said desperately, "The boy is under Dumbledore's protection. There's no way."

"You'll find a way, my Severus." Cold hands running over his body, sending a freezing wave of hatred down to his bones, "You are, after all, a very skilled and intelligent wizard. You'll find a way. If you value your life, freedom and sanity, you'll bring him to me." Suddenly violent, the hands pushed him away hard, and he fell back weakly and looked at the pale, glowering face looming over him. "Soon, Severus. I am not a patient man. Not any more. I will watch you, and if you dawdle I will come for you, and you'll wish that I'd killed you tonight." Without another word, or another glance, The Dark Lord Disapparated leaving Snape shivering on the cold, hard ground.