I wrote this a few years ago. It seems like the appropriate time to post it.


"I regret it," said Voldemort coldly. And he did regret it, more than he had thought possible. It had to be done, of course. He needed the Elder Wand's allegiance for the inevitable fight with the Potter boy. But even if it were different he would have had to kill Snape. Loyal as the man might be, Voldemort could not tolerate for one of his followers to have more power than he.

Yet Voldemort hoped that it would be over with this battle. If not, he would certainly miss his most cunning lieutenant. There was no doubt: the man had been brilliant. Inventing his own spells and potions at the age of fifteen had only been the beginning. He had watched Snape's development in his service. There was no potion he could not brew, no spell he didn't know about. Duelling seemed to come naturally to him. And even when the young man lost, his eyes were trained on his opponent with that particular glint that seemed to say, 'You may have beaten me today. But beware! I do not give up easily. I do not make a mistake twice. I will learn, and next time, it will be you who will leave defeated.'

And while it had taken Snape more than one or two or even twenty tries to beat some of the more senior Death Eaters, while he had often ended up bruised and bloody and with broken bones, he had never once given up. Voldemort had admired such determination. Half-bloods both, the two of them had always known that they would have to fight for their place in the world.

There had been some youthful follies, of course. That brief obsession with the Potter woman, but Snape had quickly seen reason with that. He had focussed on his new task: to spy on the old fool Dumbledore. Voldemort had half expected him to be caught, but Snape had once again proven himself quite resourceful. It had all seemed perfect. And then he had fallen.

When he had returned, Voldemort had first been annoyed that Snape had not recognised him, then angry. At the end, he had thought him a traitor. He would be punished, he promised himself when he fled Quirrel's dying body. He will pay for this, he thought grimly as he was subjected to Wormtail's fumbling care. He did not expect Snape to return when he called his Death Eaters, and he had not. "He will be killed, of course", he remarked offhandedly to his followers. It was the one time he did not follow up on a threat.

For Snape had returned. Voldemort had punished him, had ripped his mind apart viciously – but there was no betrayal. The loyalty was still there, and even half-mad with pain the man had wanted nothing but return to him. Voldemort had been delighted. His judgement had been correct, after all, and the information Snape could offer was worth so much more than the words of regret his other followers had tried to fob him off with.

Once again, Snape resumed his task as a double agent. Voldemort nearly smiled at the thought of how well they had played Dumbledore. Snape had been so good at convincing the old man that he desperately needed to stay in the Dark Lord's good books. Voldemort had punished his faithful servant – often enough for his quick tongue and his daring, sometimes for failure, but mostly it had been coldly calculated to mislead Dumbledore. His other Death Eaters would sneer and jeer at the Dark Lord's whipping boy. But Snape would merely stand there and look at him, understanding in his eyes. And then he would incline his head in acceptance and bear it in silence.

In the end, Snape had done what no-one else could and shown once and for all where his loyalty lay. Where all his other followers had failed him during the last year – letting the Potter boy slip from their grasp, losing battles with Dumbledore's Order, not watching over his Horcruxes and being generally dim-witted and useless sycophants – Snape had once again proven his worth by killing his greatest enemy.

Yes, Voldemort did regret it. Nagini had been upset that he would not let her devour the body. But Snape deserved more than some mudblood or blood-traitor. Later when the battle was won he would return and retrieve it. And he would see to it that his most loyal follower would be honoured in death as he had never been in life.