The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...
Silence. Severus Snape waited in silence. He kept perfectly still, his sallow features devoid of emotion. In the darkness of the room, he could barely make out the serpentine features of the Great Lord of the Dark. The Great Lord was merciful. Lord Voldemort was idly twisting his wand between his long fingers, gracefully surveying the sitting parlor of the Malfoy mansion. Lucius had always been extravagant, and so willing to prove his worth. He had considered it to be an honor when the Great Lord had asked to make his home the headquarters of the Death Eaters. For here was the only place near lavish enough to suit the tastes of the Great Lord of the Dark. Pure marble was the fireplace, the untainted stone rose in a proud tower up towards the high ceiling. The walls were a tasteless white, and the furniture all dyed to an ebony as black as night. As black as the Great Lord's soul. The Great Lord of the Dark was unconquerable. The Great Lord of the Dark was absolute. The Great Lord of the Dark was merciful.
Lord Voldemort continued twisting his wand, manipulating the luminescent form of his Patronus. Apart from the tall, arching windows that allowed moonlight to spill into the parlor, the sheer python was the only source of illumination in the room. The fireplace was vacant of fire, as the Great Lord had not asked for a flame to be lit. In the absence Nagini, the Patronus laid obediently at the Great Lord's feet, ready to perform any task that it was set about. It was common knowledge that one did not speak to the Great Lord of the Dark unless spoken to. In his panic, Severus had nearly broken this rule. However, being a member of Lord Voldemort's closest circle of followers, and only beneath Bellatrix Lestrange herself, his falter had been forgiven. The Great Lord of the Dark was supreme. The Great Lord of the Dark was cunning. The Great Lord of the Dark was merciful.
The man who had once been Tom Riddle sighed softly, as if he were disappointed. Immediately, instinctively, Severus tensed. His pale hand gripped the side of the somber chair, yet he made sure to keep his face emotionless. So tight was his grip that the blood became displaced in his knuckles, however, his pale complexion kept this hidden, as if his fear were some dark secret. As if even his body knew that he could not displease the Great Lord of the Dark. For the first time, Lord Voldemort tore his gaze away from his the glowing apparition of his Patronus. He looked pained to bring his attention to the spell to an end, and Severus detected the danger in the subtle creases around the blood-red lips of the Great Lord of the Dark. Although it was carefully concealed, there was displeasure already. Lord Voldemort did not desire to be here. Unintentionally, Severus swallowed, his Adam's apple protruding obviously as he did so. If he wished for his desire to be met, he would need to tread carefully. There was absolutely no room for failure. Severus Snape could not blunder, not now.
Merciful was the Great Lord of the Dark.
"Severus," Lord Voldemort began, finally turning his gaze towards the black-clad Death Eater, "Why am I here?" His voice was gentle, soft, like that of a caress. Yet, there was an undeniable hiss, an undeniable taint of anger. Severus kept his expression impassive, allowing the crimson eyes of the Dark Lord to bore into his soul. Submission was an absolute rule, an unspoken law that all were made to follow. Severus Snape was not an ignorant fool. He kept his gaze locked upon that of the Great Lord's, knowing that it would be broken off only when the Great Lord chose to end it. His dark eyes were unblinking as he watched Lord Voldemort, the inky darkness concealing the inner turmoil that was his soul. After what seemed an eternity, Snape answered quietly. He could not make it seem like he cared - not yet. There was a process to earning the rewards of Lord Voldemort. And the process had to be followed flawlessly if one was to achieve their wishes.
"My Lord," He began slowly, the higher edges to his voice revealing the panic, the fear that he could not conceal. "I believe that you remember the prophecy that I relayed to you, all those years ago?" Already, Severus was placing himself in danger. For the Great Lord of the Dark did not take joy in being reminded of his seemingly inevitable downfall. Severus' words were greeted with silence. Within this silence, it seemed that the Great Lord was calculating. His expression became unreadable, cold, and hard. As his worth was being debated, Severus felt his heart quicken behind his ribcage, pounding in a faltering staccato of anxiety.
"Ah..." Lord Voldemort said this coldly, as if it were a warning. Severus watched as he twisted his wand again, noting how the tip came closer and closer to being pointed at him with each movement that the Great Lord made. There was no longer any doubt, no longer an excuse that he could make to reassure himself that he was safe. The Great Lord of the Dark was not pleased. "Of course I do, Severus. Why do you find it necessary to remind me of such a... Sensitive matter?" As the resonating voice of the Great Lord filled the parlor, all of the moisture seemed to leave Severus' mouth. He swallowed again, knowing that he could not appear to be intimidated. The Great Lord of the Dark did not appreciate weakness. He kept his eyes locked on the Great Lord's, allowing the crimson irises to burn into him. The serpentine eyes sent fear coursing through him, yet he continued to conquer the struggle to remain calm. There was far too much at stake to lose control now.
"My Lord, I am merely wondering if you have located the child. It is but an insignificant pondering, my Lord." Some control had been regained, and his voice had returned to the soft, menacing murmur that it always was. For the Great Lord, the arrogance had been stripped away. However, cold hostility remained, as he could not afford to appear weak. Asking favors of the Great Lord was an incredibly dangerous game.
"Do you not believe that I would have told you if I had discovered it, Severus?" The Death Eater shut his eyes for a moment, regretting the approach that he had elected to take. Now, it sounded as if he did not have full faith within the Great Lord. This was becoming more and more precarious with every passing second, and Severus knew that if he did not take a different approach that this would end badly. If Lord Voldemort began to believe that he did not have full trust in him, then there would no longer be reason to keep him. In all likelihood, he would be disposed of. Perhaps even given to Bellatrix to entertain her. The Dark Lord was rather fond of allowing his favorite to exercise cruelty. Being given to Bellatrix as tribute to the Dark Arts was a horrifying, sickening prospect: for she was well practiced in the art of torture.
"I am not questioning your motive, my Lord. I am purely... Curious." Raptly paying attention, Severus watched as Lord Voldemort considered his answer. It seemed that, for the moment, he had escaped the wrath of the Great Lord of the Dark.
"I see..." He said this thoughtfully, trailing off with indifference. He continued twisting his wand between his graceful fingers, as if he were evaluating his wand in the way that only a wandmaker could. "In fact, Severus, I believe that I have located the child in question. His parents are rather... Infamous members of the Order of the Phoenix. As the prophecy dictates, I have had three separate encounters between the two of them. Their child was born on the last day of the seventh month; July 31st. Severus, does this not sound like a correct match to you?"
"Indeed it does, my Lord."
"Very well then. I believe that you will take great delight in knowing that this child, this insignificant boy who has been named as my equal, has been born to James and Lily Potter. This child, who's existence has been predicted, will be dead on All Hallow's Eve of this year." The Great Lord smiled, his high, cold, voice now filled with something akin to amusement. "I find this laughable, Severus. I will finish the boy, and his family, on Halloween. It is a Muggle holiday, you see. Where the filthy children run amok in costumes, begging their ignorant neighbors for sweets and treats. How easy it will be for me to slip in Godric's Hollow, unnoticed." He laughed now, a soft, dark sound. Severus felt a chill go down his spine as the delicate noise reached his ears.
"And then," The Great Lord continued, "There will no longer be anything in my way. To think of it, Severus, the son of a pair of Gryffindors defeating me, the heir of Salazar Slytherin!" Then, Lord Voldemort truly did laugh, the piercingly sharp noise filling the room entirely. Although Severus knew that he did not have anything to be concerned of, the noise struck fear into his very core. Every hair on his body stood on end, and the Great Lord did not stop. He threw back his head and laughed in triumph, and it became the laugh of a madman. It was no longer the laugh of a man, even: it was the twisted laugh of what had once been a man, and was now simply a body. No longer did Lord Voldemort did not have a soul living within him. His soul had been scattered across the known world, split into six different pieces. Now, only a sadistic love for the Dark Arts was keeping him alive.
Severus remained silent, but he allowed a small smile to grace his pale features. It was an encouraging smile, yet it was empty. It was a weak smile, one that was heavily contradicted by the listlessness in his eyes. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lord Voldemort fell silent. He returned to his cold, superior, self. "Severus, you have yet to say anything. Do you not approve?" Severus paused before answering, allowing his dark irises to roam down to the silvery Patronus. The Great Lord needed to see this hesitation, as it would bring him protection. Perhaps if Lord Voldemort were to see that he had purposefully risked enraging him, he would be more reasonable. Perhaps.
"Of course, my Lord. I believe your plan to be excellent. However, I believe that talent is being wasted by killing all three of the Potters."If he could convince the Great Lord that he needed her, perhaps she would be allowed to live. It was the only plausible angle that Snape could see the Great Lord agreeing to.
"Is that so?" Lord Voldemort asked softly, his crimson eyes seeming to burn a hole into Severus' forehead. "Please, Severus, elaborate for me. I am afraid that I cannot read your mind."
"My Lord, as you well know, potions have their use. Time and time again, they have proved to be assisting in furthering your causes. While I do not doubt in my ability, I believe that I could use assistance. After all, I cannot brew everything that you require on my own." Here, he paused, allowing Lord Voldemort absorb the information.
"Very well, Severus, proceed."
"In the seven years I spent at Hogwarts as a member of the House of Slytherin, not once did I see witch or wizard more equal to my own talents than that of Lily Evans. Perhaps, my Lord, if you were to spare her, she could assist me? I assure you that her talents are unsurpassed by any other than my own. And I believe that a simple casting of the Imperious Curse would assure that she remains... Faithful to you." As he finished, Severus realized that his heart was about to beat out of his chest. Everything, absolutely everything depended upon the Great Lord's answer. He held his breath expectantly, and Lord Voldemort's answer was too long in coming.
"I shall consider your suggestion, Severus. I believe that we have covered all that needs to be spoken of this evening. You are excused from my presence, Snape. Please, send Bellatrix in to see me as soon as you can locate her. I need to speak to her about a more private matter." Severus nodded, and stood from his chair.
"Thank you, my Lord." He bowed stiffly, flourishing outward with his right hand. Lord Voldemort nodded appreciatively, but said nothing more. Snape turned without another word, his black dress robes billowing behind him as he did. With a flick of his arm, he removed his wand from his sleeve and with a simple swish opened the mahogany double doors. They swung open obediently, moving soundlessly across the tile floor of the Malfoy mansion. The only sound in the room was that of Severus' footsteps, his boots echoing loudly throughout the large parlor. As he strode further and further away from Lord Voldemort, he became more and more confident in his plan. There were no flaws: and with little trouble at all, he had managed to save Lily Evans. Finally, she would be his again. It would be as if Potter had never existed. As Severus strode out of the doors, he wore a hollow smile upon his face. It was a smile of accomplishment.
Merciful was the Great Lord of the Dark.
This is my first Harry Potter fic, so please, critique away! I adore criticism, and I'm not too concerned about my feelings. Tell me what you think! You know you wanna... ;)