Title: Claimed
Rating: PG
Summary: Mild eroticism in Death Eater land. Severus Snape takes the plunge and takes the mark.
Pairing: Severus/Voldemort
Inspiration: Ponderosa 121's brilliant art piece "Know Your Place", which can be seen on the Destiny Interrupted website at destiny (dot) ponderosa121 (dot) com
Author's Notes: Okay, okay, it's nowhere near as good as it ought to be to serve as a fitting tribute, but the moment I saw that particular piece of Ponderosa's art, I knew I had to do a fic about it. Let me know what you think.
Severus had spent all day lying in bed, too drained by heat and boredom to accomplish much of anything at all. A dozen books had been selected from the shelves, briefly perused and summarily discarded. They rested, propped open, upon the bed beside him, all of them dog-eared and rumpled with the heat; none of them, even the newest, were interesting enough to catch Severus' fancy. New supplies for his Hogwarts Potions class were assembled on the desk, glowing from inside glass phials or tucked away in silver storage boxes. On the train ride home for the summer he had dreamed, briefly, of experimentation without Slughorn breathing down his neck, but even potions were not enough to distract him.
Several times, Severus had risen, only to succumb once again and return to bed. Once, he had dragged on a pair of trousers and an ill-fitting Muggle t-shirt that had once been his father's. Twice, he had gone in search of water, and drank greedily before returning to his room to waste away a few more hours. His hair was lank and damp, his forehead shiny with sweat. There were damp patches on the shirt, too. A fan sluggishly whipped the tired air; as he was still months away from the seventeenth birthday, Severus could not even improved matters by casting a rudimentary cooling charm, lest he be found out and questioned by the Ministry.
The knock at the door interrupted the lazy, late-summer calm that had descended over the house at Spinner's End. Severus lurched out of bed unsteadily, his heart hammering in his chest. Lily! he thought upon first instinct, thinking of her blazing green eyes. Correcting himself sharply, Severus nonetheless raked his fingers through his dark hair to tame it, yanking open the door of his bedroom and hurrying out into the hall.
Eileen reached the door first. Severus froze, not wanting to display too much eagerness to his guest, but over his mother's shoulder, he could make out the figure of the visitor as well as the pale blonde hair. With a sinking feeling, Severus dismissed all thoughts of Lily and hurried forward towards Lucius Malfoy.
"I'll see to it, mother," he snapped, impatient. Eileen gave him a cold look and spun on her heel, retreating to her own bedroom and closing the door tightly. Severus blinked against the brilliance of the sunlight. "Lucius. Come in."
Narrowing his eyes slightly, Lucius looked past Severus, studying the interior of the house. "I think not," he said sharply. Then, correcting his manners, Lucius smiled graciously. "I came to fetch you, actually." He grew serious. "You do remember what I told you, when I visited you in June?"
"You said the Dark Lord foresaw a use for me," Severus recounted. His hands flew to his hair again, grooming it, though the ebony tangles would never resemble Lucius' sleek mane. "You told me that one day, he would want to admit me into the inner circle."
Lucius nodded. "The day has come, Severus. The Dark Lord is waiting at my home; he is eager to see you. He asked me to come and bring you to him."
Glancing at the ragged foyer once more, Lucius wrinkled his nose slightly, an unconscious gesture that caused Severus' cheeks to burn with humiliation. "Do you recall the things we discussed, years ago now, when I first introduced you to the cause? Lord Voldemort can grant you power beyond your wildest dreams. You are a skilled wizard, of course. Your talent is obvious, and there is no question you can go far on your own -- but imagine, just consider what could be yours with the Dark Lord at your side! Wealth, naturally. All the galleons you would ever need will be given to you, once we are in control. You'll want for nothing. And now you have a chance to take the first step, if you are ready." He raised an eyebrow. "You are ready, aren't you?"
"Of course!" The words emerged in a gush of enthusiasm. Severus gnawed his lip for a moment, imagining what Lily might say, if she overheard the exchange, but then he pushed her from his thoughts. Lily had abandoned him. Their friendship, the most valuable relationship Severus had ever known, was in tatters and appeared irreparable. He cared for her still, of course he did. It still drove him mad with fury and jealousy to think of her with anyone but himself, and he knew he would always want her, but he could not pass up this golden opportunity just to hold to her principles. She might never know anyway, Severus reasoned. Besides, joining Voldemort would ensure he would lead a life full of adventure and success. It would be far easier to win Lily once he was established, when it was well known that he, Severus Snape, was a powerful force to be reckoned with, a member of the most powerful wizard organization currently in existence.
"I'm ready," Severus declared, and he stepped out of the house without even a word of farewell to his mother.
….
It was a huge room, in a tremendous house. Severus had always known Lucius came from a wealthy background; the man made it obvious, flashing immaculately tailored clothes, cementing relationships with exorbitant gifts and bragging frequently about his immense inheritance, locked in the vault at Gringott's. Still, he had never expected this. The Malfoy home rose four stories above the ground, with towers and spires stretching up towards the sky. The gates were not wrought iron, as he had originally presumed, but pure silver, grown black with a layer of tarnish that indicated the age and value of the estate. There was no time for a tour, but as they had hurried towards the study, where Voldemort had been accommodated, Lucius had spoken of multiple libraries, ancient dungeons and over a dozen guest bedrooms, in which he had implied Severus might stay, if he preferred to abandon Spinner's End.
Feeling awkward, Severus waited for the Dark Lord to return. Voldemort had wished to address Lucius in private, giving Severus a few moments to compose himself. He looked up, to the high vaulted ceiling, and then over to the furniture, which was so new and pristine he did not dare sit down. Nor did he touch anything; here and there, artefacts more valuable than anything Severus had set eyes on before were perched on display cases and spare shelves. Normally, Severus was not given over to fantastical daydreams of fabulous wealth. He saw money as a means to an end. Galleons could buy him books to read, and decent clothes, as well as freedom from his father who, while a good sort when sober, was temperamental and aggressive when drunk. Still, he was awed by the ostentatious displays, and felt silly standing there so out of place.
"Ah, Severus."
Lord Voldemort spoke in a voice that did not quite match the culture and upbringing recognisable in Lucius Malfoy's, but what he lacked in breeding was more than made up for in substance. His very voice suggested iron will, although he spoke softly. His words were slightly accented, as though he had recently travelled, but the clipped mannerisms native to the English were evident as well.
Severus drew backwards involuntarily, startled by the forcefulness radiated by the dark wizard. He felt his eyes widen as he examined Voldemort. The man was rumoured to be in his forties, but his age was impossible to determine simply from looking at him. Voldemort's face was completely unlined, lacking in any trace of age, but the structure of his bones and the cool, collected expression he wore lent credence to the notion that he was not a very young man, nor terribly old. His face was extremely handsome and retained a porcelain quality Severus was used to seeing only on statues and faces portrayed in antique paintings. Voldemort's skin was quite pale, and on a different sort of man, that whiteness might have suggested frailty and ill health, but on the dark wizard the pallor added substance, plainly indicating that Voldemort was an unusual man and not to be crossed. In sharp contrast with his complexion, Voldemort's hair was glossy black.
Noting Severus' interest, Voldemort spread his thin lips into a semblance of a smile. "Please," Voldemort said, gesturing with his hand to indicate that Severus, who had unconsciously fallen to his knees, could rise. "Lucius Malfoy has spoken to me about you, Severus. Many times, in fact. I understand you have expressed an interest in aligning yourself with us, and fighting for our cause."
Dumbstruck, Severus nodded wordlessly.
"I see. You come highly recommended. Lucius tells me you have a noticeable gift for the particularly challenging aspects of magic, and that you show a defined talent for the brewing of potions, far above the skills of the ordinary student." The corner of Voldemort's mouth perked slightly, giving him a wry expression. "Tell me, are you satisfied with the quality of the education you are receiving at Hogwarts?"
"I --" Severus stammered, before his mouth went dry. The words caught in his throat, and he winced, flustered. "Sir?"
"Hogwarts is a fine school, Severus, and has much to offer the curious intellectual, but it has long been noted that there is much it conspicuously lacks." Voldemort's eyes narrowed just a bit. "Have you not also noticed this?"
Bowing his head, Severus bit his lip. "I have -- sir --"
"Tell me, what have you determined?"
Raising his head, Severus tried to appear calm. "They offer no training in the dark arts."
"Only in defence, against them," Voldemort agreed, and Severus sighed with relief. Still, despite the fear, Voldemort could not help but notice the glow in Severus' eyes. The young man wore an expression that made clear his fascination and eagerness. It was good; it meant little persuasion would be necessary. "A pity, that generations of witches and wizards should leave school without even a bare bones understanding of what true magic can accomplish. We do not have light without dark, and yet Hogwarts expects its students to remain ignorant to anything hinting of darkness, or power, or ambition. There is much to learn, power available for the taking, which few will ever grasp."
Nodding in agreement, Severus waited for the man to continue.
"Does power interest you, Severus Snape?" Lord Voldemort asked.
"Yes," Severus answered, in a hushed voice.
Voldemort nodded. "Yes," he repeated. "There is nothing without power. Battles cannot be won without it, nor pretty girls wooed." He smiled slightly as Severus turned red. "Lucius told me of your predicament, Severus. The beautiful Mudblood girl who scorned you, after all you had done to seek her favours. She turned her back on you, and claimed it was because of your interest in the very subject of dark arts, is that not so? But of course, it is not the dark arts she opposes. She denied you because you are weak. You are friendless and alone, and she has witnessed you humiliated and destroyed time and time again." Voldemort waited patiently as Severus blushed. "It is understandable, of course. How could she respect you -- love you -- when she knew you were powerless? But with me, oh Severus, you would be powerless no more.
"I have much to offer those in my service. For you, Severus, who have a keen mind, I can offer you knowledge. You will learn at my side, without the fearful restrictions of the Ministry or the juvenile limitations placed upon you by Hogwarts. Dark arts, Severus; I can teach you to become their master. As we ascend to control the wizarding world, you will gain more power than you can presently imagine."
"M -- my Lord," Severus said reverently in place of an answer. He bowed dramatically, though he felt foolish in the shabby Muggle clothes and the ill-fitting, second-hand robe Lucius had given him.
"Do you wish to join me, Severus?"
There was no hesitation in his answer, nor much complex thought. Severus nodded, hypnotized by the offer of power, as countless others before him had been. Briefly, he imagined standing triumphant before the Marauders, his boot pressed into the small of James Potter's back, Sirius Black lying dead at his feet. He thought of finally exacting his revenge against the foul four for every torment, every insult, each burst of giddy laughter. Severus could picture Lily running to him as well, full of forgiveness and apology. He knew, deep inside, that she would be horrified at what he was contemplating, but he brashly shoved the knowledge away. "Yes, my Lord, I do."
Voldemort's eyes shone brightly as he examined the young man before him. "Give me your arm." He took Severus' hand, smoothing out his palm and then sliding back the sleeve of the borrowed robe. "Do you wish to become a Death Eater, Severus? It is not a promise to be entered into lightly. There is much work ahead, for those of us who wish to forge a new and more promising path for wizard kind. It will not be easy, but we will succeed. If you accept, you agree to be bound to your oath until death. I have no use for the indecisive, or the fearful, but I do want you. Do you wish to join me and take my mark?"
An image of Lily again flashed through Severus' mind, and he flinched, almost snatching his arm from Voldemort's grip. Then, however, he thought of her cold words, and refusal to hear his apology. He heard the laughter of himself and his friends, in the Slytherin common room, and imagined having stronger spells and hexes, the better to destroy James Potter and anything else in his path. "Yes, sir."
"Very well." Still holding Severus' arm, Voldemort withdrew his wand. He placed the tip of it on the smooth, pale skin of the underside of Severus' arm. "Do you, Severus Snape, align yourself with I, Lord Voldemort?"
"Yes."
"Do you promise on pain of death to work in support of our cause, the liberation of wizard kind from Muggle oppression, until all of our aims have been satisfied? You will follow my instructions, or suffer my wrath?"
"Yes," Severus answered, licking his lips nervously.
Voldemort nodded. "So be it," he said, and then he spoke another word, which Severus had never heard before. Green light flashed from the tip of Voldemort's wand, so blindingly bright that Severus closed his eyes tightly against it. A sudden great pain slashed through his arm, as though he were being carved with razors, but as Severus attempted to draw back his arm, he felt Voldemort increase his grip, holding him tightly. The pain increased, cutting through him like a knife, until Severus was unable to contain himself and shouted in agony. Then, abruptly, the hurt was gone.
The Dark Mark was burned into his flesh, pure black in sharp contrast to his pallor, and his skin was still bleeding from its application. Purple bruises began to form on the reddened skin. Startled, Severus' eyes widened, but he had no chance to speak. Voldemort lowered his head, pressing his lips to the dark tattoo.
The pain was horrible. Dizzy, near fainting, Severus tried to pull away, but Voldemort held him fast. The Dark Lord kissed the fresh mark, then ran his tongue over the raw skin, tasting Severus' blood. When he lifted his head, his chin and lips were smeared with crimson.
"Severus," he spoke, his voice breathy. Voldemort's eyes were red slits, and he bared his teeth slightly as he opened his mouth, sucking in breath. Once more he pulled Severus' arm forward. His fingernails stabbed into the thin skin of Severus' wrist as he licked the new mark, savouring the sensation of raw flesh and heat. Smiling, he drew back. His teeth were stained pink with blood. "Come here," he spoke, unyielding as Severus made another valiant attempt to back away. "My servant," he crooned, a subtle smirk stretching his lips. With one thin finger, he lifted Severus' chin, examining the young man's horrified expression. It was enjoyable, to see clever Severus so flabbergasted. "Come now."
Heart thumping, Severus leaned in slightly, puzzled and suspicious. He wet his lips, preparing to speak, but before he could make any response, Voldemort grabbed a fistful of his hair and dragged him closer. The space between them narrowed, reducing to mere inches, and then Voldemort closed it, thrusting himself forward and slamming his lips against Severus'.
The action scarcely registered as a kiss to Severus' stunned mind. Voldemort fell upon him with the snapping jaws of a wolf, kissing him hard enough to split Severus' bottom lip. Fresh blood poured, and the Dark Lord lapped it up like milk, panting as he savoured the taste of the other man's mouth. Severus felt himself responding hesitantly, terrified of making a mistake and displeasing his new master, and yet also aroused by the overpowering magic that radiated from Voldemort like an aura. He moaned, shaking as Voldemort claimed his mouth.
Scarlet eyes stared at Severus as he came up for air, and his breath froze in his lungs. For just an instant, the handsome face seemed to change, revealing a smooth, lifeless skull occupied not with blood and soul like a real man, but something much darker. Whatever strange magic Tom Riddle had performed to ascend to his current status, it had given him incredible gifts, but not without a price. The vibrant, curious spirit that had once resided within him had been stripped away; there was nothing now except a hollow shadow of what had once been a perfectly human man. Severus gasped, and the image faded. Voldemort's white lips grinned, splotched with blood, but otherwise, he was extremely attractive once more, his shining eyes lit with passionate fire.
"Ah," Voldemort said, dropping his hold on Severus. He scarcely noted the way the young man snatched his arm back to himself, rubbing the welts on his wrist and softly petting the painful new mark that branded him a loyalist. "Now, you understand," he spoke softly. "You are mine now, and you will serve me, on pain of death. Lucius!"
From the shadows, the blonde emerged. He smirked at Severus in a way that turned the other man completely cold, and then bowed to Voldemort. "My Lord?"
"I leave you now, as I have work to do elsewhere. Keep Severus here tonight, with you, and explain to him the obligations of a Death Eater. I will return before long; you'll receive word when I require you." Voldemort paused, looking at Severus, who had paled. "Severus," he said gently, as he leaned forward and planted a kiss on Severus' forehead. "Welcome to the ranks."