Hello, everyone! This chapter is kind of a monster, so it took me a bit longer this time. Sorry about the wait.
Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed last chapter! Thank you to Jordina, Nomercy Sedia, and dogsby! To dogsby: I tried to use some of what you suggested in your review in this chapter. I never have anyone outright say that power can be just as deadly as it is seductive, but I tried to show it.
This chapter was pretty difficult for me to write, so I would definitely appreciate feedback. Please review and let me know what you think! I take everything you all have to say very seriously and I deeply appreciate you taking the time to review.
Warnings: not much for this chapter. Tiny bit of language. Little teensy bit of torture. Nothing overly violent.
Disclaimer: I write for fun and make no profit.
Please enjoy!
Chapter 10 – The Dark Lord
When the first Hogsmeade weekend of term arrived, Remus was feeling completely better. It had taken a full two weeks this time for all the bruising and scratches to fade from his skin, and for the last vestiges of the wolf to leave him. Much worse than was normal. He had been attending classes under light glamour charms, against the wishes of Madam Pomfrey. But he was afraid of falling behind. However, when Sirius woke him up one bright Saturday morning, and declared that Remus was going with them to Hogsmeade no matter what, Remus was glad to announce that he was in fact feeling quite normal again.
"Well, that's good," said Sirius promptly. "Come on, get up, get dressed. James and Peter are already down at breakfast."
Under the guidance of Sirius – "No! Put on your other cloak, the thicker one." – "You'll need a hat, mate." – "I don't wear hats, Sirius." – Remus found himself dressed for cold weather and following Sirius down to the Great Hall.
"Just a bit of toast for me, thanks," said Remus, when they sat down and Peter offered him a full plate. He glanced at Sirius, prepared for a rebuke, but the other boy was too distracted by his own breakfast.
"Where's James?" asked Remus.
Sirius glanced up. Peter pointed down the table. James sat by Lily, smiling and running his fingers through his hair. Lily looked doubtful and puzzled and flattered and pleased all at once, and her head was tilted to one side as she listened to James.
"What's he doin'?" wondered Sirius.
"Probably asking Lily to Hogsmeade with him," answered Remus. He took a sip of pumpkin juice and smiled into the goblet as Sirius huffed and crossed his arms.
"Well, she'll say no," he said, though he sounded offended and insolent all at once. "We always go to Hogsmeade together," he muttered under his breath a moment later.
Remus snorted and hastily covered it up by coughing. Sirius shot him a glance, but Remus just smiled. "We can still go to Hogsmeade together. I'll even go into Zonko's with you."
That seemed to brighten Sirius up. He smiled widely and took a huge bite of eggs.
A few minutes later, James came over and threw himself onto the bench next to Sirius. "Guess what just happened!"
"You asked Lily to go to Hogsmeade with you," said Sirius blankly.
"Uh-huh," replied James, but he still bounced excitedly in place.
Sirius blinked. "She said yes, didn't she!"
James cackled madly. "You bet your fine Gryffindor arse she did!"
Remus looked up, surprised. "Really?" he asked. "How did you convince her to do that?"
"Oh, please," scoffed James. "Like it was hard?"
Remus, Sirius, and Peter raised doubtful eyebrows.
"Oh, all right," said James. "She said she won't go into Madam Pudifoot's even if it's the last shop standing, but she agreed to have a butterbeer and a bit of a stroll."
Remus smiled, but Sirius seemed to be in shock.
James noticed. He clapped Sirius on the shoulder. "Oh, come on, mate," he said, pleading. "Chances are, in half an hour she'll be completely bored of me anyway and then I can go with you to Zonko's and Honeyduke's and wherever else."
Sirius hesitated before answering, but when he finally did, a grin was on his face. "Are you joking? Now that she's finally agreed to go with you, you better make it last as long as you can." He paused and shoved James playfully. "She's probably under a curse or something. This might be your only lucky day. Ever."
James shoved him right back, but he was smiling too.
Remus just shook his head at the two of them and took a tiny bite of toast. James and Sirius had a special bond, he knew, but it never once left him feeling like the third wheel, especially not when Sirius had begun to look at him in a strange way. Strange. But good. Sirius had always been affectionate toward him, ever since their first year at Hogwarts. And even if he and Sirius didn't have the same type of friendship that Sirius and James had, Remus thought he had something just as good, maybe greater.
Yet whenever Remus thought about this special thing that he and Sirius had, his mind sort of curled up, like a hurt puppy, and he inevitably stopped thinking about it. Sirius was the instigator. Not Remus. There was still a part of him – when he looked at his friends – that couldn't believe they wanted to be around him. That they wanted to spend time with him. And talk to him. And be his friend.
Nobody wanted that with a werewolf.
But for some reason, Sirius did. And James did. And so did Peter.
Sometimes, Remus just couldn't comprehend it no matter how hard he tried. Other times, he sat back and thanked Merlin for the blessing of friends. That bright Hogsmeade morning was one of the times when Remus was torn between disbelief and acceptance.
"Remus!"
He glanced up. James and Sirius were staring at him. He realized all at once that he had been gazing at the wall over their heads for quite some time now, and that a half-eaten slice of toast was hanging from a limp hand.
"You need to eat more than that," said Sirius firmly, at the same time that James asked, "You gonna eat that, mate?"
Remus blinked. Sirius glared at James and then turned his gaze on Remus. "Eat," he commanded, in a tone that left no room for argument.
Remus hid a smile, and took another bite.
After a few more minutes, James waved a quick goodbye, stood up, and left the Great Hall at a trot. A minute later, Lily got up and demurely followed him out. Sirius rolled his eyes.
"I guess that's us, then," he said. "You coming or what, Peter?"
"Yeah, yeah," said Peter, hurriedly taking a few more bites before standing as well.
Remus felt hot and uncomfortable in is heavy winter cloak and scarf. He was anxious to get outside into the cool air, and Sirius, seeing this, led the way immediately. Remus and Sirius walked side by side. Peter followed a few steps behind.
The path leading into Hogsmeade was swarming with students. Most of them were laughing and shouting and running about. A few walked quickly, huddled inside their heavy cloaks against the sharp autumn wind. Remus walked at a comfortable pace, keeping time with Sirius, who didn't seem to be in much of a hurry. James was somewhere ahead of them, too far to be seen, but with Lily most likely at his side. Remus thought that maybe Sirius didn't want to catch up with them, didn't want to have to see his best friend with the girl who could steal him away. It was one thing to know that it might happen. It was another thing entirely to witness it happening.
Slowly, gently, Remus let his hand circle Sirius's wrist. He felt Sirius's pulse, strong and steady, under his fingers. Sirius's skin was very cold, and Remus let some of his heat – the wolf's heat – soak in, before he uncurled his fingers and let go.
Sirius pulled him back.
For a moment, their fingers tangled together. Remus felt warmth, and skin, and the slight confusion of what they were doing, of Sirius's grey eyes glancing sidelong at him, of their palms pressed together, of the slight flush he knew had traveled up his cheeks. And then they let go, at the same time, and continued walking.
Behind them, Peter seemed not to have noticed. He was talking loudly about what candy he wanted from Honeyduke's.
"You know," said Sirius, "I could do with a few sugar quills myself."
And suddenly all Remus could see was Sirius sucking lightly on the end of one of those fine-spun quills, his tongue poking out absently, and where was that image coming from? Remus shook his head, and glanced at Sirius, and felt himself flush and even deeper red when Sirius gave him a sly, knowing smile.
Remus wasn't quite sure what was going on. But it was making him more than just a little uncomfortable.
(SS-SS-SS)
Severus carefully ladled the successfully brewed Polyjuice Potion into ten small vials. He stoppered them just as carefully, and arranged them into a small box that he placed gently inside his bag. A flick of his wand vanished the remainder of the potion, and in the next few minutes the cauldron was clean and stored away, remaining ingredients were expertly bottled, and the Sixth Year Boys Dorm smelled minty fresh once more, and not of the hideously bubbling Polyjuice.
Severus wiped his hands, felt a flash of pride at a job well done, and slung his black cloak over his trousers and warm knit sweater. He picked up his bag slowly, mindful of the fragile glass bottles within, and left the dorm.
He was alone this morning. His friends had already left for Hogsmeade, as he knew they would when he casually mentioned that the potion was complete. He would meet them, as soon as he stopped by the Owlery and mailed his precious cargo. He felt confident that an owl would be waiting for him, just as the Dark Lord had promised. He walked briskly, but surely, his shoulders relaxed for once, as the weight of this assignment eased itself from his body. For the first time in weeks, he felt like he could breathe.
The Owlery was a feathered, hooting mess. Severus waved his wand irritably, dispelling owl droppings before he could slip on them. He walked around, looking for the same owl that had accosted him in the corridor a month ago, and found him perched on a window ledge, dignified, his sharp eyes dismissing the other owls as lesser, his curved beak giving a hoot of recognition when Severus approached. However, he skittered away when Severus brought out the box of potions, and held out his leg instead.
Severus felt cold dread claw its way up his throat as he untied the rolled parchment on the owl's leg. He refused to let his hands shake as he flattened the parchment and began to read, refused to let his fingers tremble, refused to throw the letter down and set it aflame right there in the Owlery.
He knew his face had drained of all color. He was white as porcelain, and felt just as breakable. But after a solid minute of inaction, of breathlessness, Severus rolled the letter once more, stuck it in his bag, along with the box of potions, turned, and left the Owlery at as easy a walk as he could manage.
He wanted to be running.
(JP-JP-JP)
"Want to have a look in Honeyduke's?" asked James, and breathed a sigh of relief when his voice didn't squeak.
Lily glanced at him. "Yes, all right," she said.
James could hardly stop looking at her. He knew Sirius would have slapped him upside the head if he could see this, but he just couldn't help himself. He could still hardly believe that she was here, with him. Almost like a date.
"It's not a date."
James allowed himself a small smile. That's what Lily had said when he asked her to Hogsmeade. He didn't care if it wasn't a date. He was just glad that they were together. But not together, together, as Lily would have corrected. James was pleased to be in her company.
James pushed open the door to the sweetshop and let Lily walk in ahead of him. Her hair smelled like jasmine.
"Ooooh, Drooble's," she said, delighted, and headed straight for the large display of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum.
James remembered fondly the nights she had filled the Gryffindor Common Room with bright blue bubbles. They were her favorite. James himself had never quite outgrown his liking for chocolate frogs, and he made his way to the large barrel that was filled entirely with the packaged chocolates.
The shop was crammed with Hogwarts students. James had to push his way through them, and he noticed with slight envy that space seemed to open up around Lily wherever she moved. Everyone smiled and greeted her, and just sort of seemed to naturally create a path for her to walk. Her streaming hair swished behind her as she turned her head from side to side, saying hello to friends and acquaintances. James felt a stab of jealousy. But then Lily walked over to him, her arms full of enough Drooble's packages to last a month, and smiled a small, guilty smile, and James felt his heart flip-flop inside his chest.
Merlin, but Sirius really would hex him if he could hear how soppy his thoughts had become.
James offered to pay for Lily's sweets, but she wouldn't hear of it.
"I'll let you buy me a butterbeer," she said, with a bright smile, as she handed the witch behind the counter her silver Sickles.
"Deal," said James instantly, and he held the door for her again as they left Honeyduke's.
The Three Broomsticks was swarming, of course, but James made his way to the counter and purchased two butterbeers, which he brought back to Lily in mugs that steamed with warmth. She took a sip, and foam coated her upper lip, and James wanted to lean across the table and kiss it away, but instead he just laughed, and Lily laughed right along with him as she delicately wiped her mouth.
"Why did you agree to come with me?" asked James after a bit of time had passed, absently, as if he wasn't really expecting an answer.
Lily peered at him with her clever green eyes. "Believe it or not, James Potter," she said, "but you're not always a complete dunderhead." She paused, and her expression turned thoughtful, and she looked at him in a way that he didn't quite understand, but that made his stomach feel warm and tingly and definitely set his pulse racing. "Sometimes you're most definitely not."
James smiled as if he'd been given the highest praise, especially when Lily seemed to realize what she'd said, and blushed to the roots of her hair, and stumbled out of her chair to get them another butterbeer. When she made it back to the table, however, her face was a thundercloud.
"What's happened?" asked James immediately.
Lily set the mugs down so hard that foam and butterbeer sloshed out and onto the table. She sat down and jerked her head toward the bar with a wordless growl that James had never heard come from her mouth before. He glanced casually toward the bar.
"Snape," he said, and now his own voice was a growl. "What'd he do?"
Lily shook her head. "Nothing that warrants you getting up, or looking at him, or trying to act the hero."
With an effort, James pulled his gaze away from Snape – who stood slouched and brooding at the counter – and looked at Lily. He raised an eyebrow.
She blew an angry breath out of her mouth. "He just looked at me, with those sad, helpless eyes, like he can't understand why I won't choose him." She looked at James, and there seemed to be something of helplessness in her own eyes. "How can he expect any different, when he's treated me the way he has, and called me…" Her voice trailed off. She sniffed.
James felt his hands curl into fists. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to slip his wand out of his sleeve and quickly and silently curse Snape. He knew that would win him no points with Lily, no matter how much Snape deserved it. She and Snape had been childhood friends, after all, as much as it galled James to admit it, even to himself. He forced himself to calmness.
Even so, when he spoke it was through clenched teeth. "He wants two different worlds," he told Lily. "He can't erase his blood prejudice, and he wants you despite it, and that shames him, so he hates you just as much as he obsesses over you." James took a deep breath. "It's not healthy, Lily. And it's not something you can help him with."
Lily looked at him, and blinked rapidly several times, and her perfect rosebud mouth fell open in astonishment. For a moment, James wondered if he'd said something wrong. He wracked his memory. Oh, Merlin! What did I say? But then Lily stood up, came around the table, leaned in so close that James caught his breath, and ghosted a kiss across first one cheek, and then the other.
"James Potter," she whispered. "Oh, I am a fool."
And then she was back in her chair, staring into her butterbeer with an absent smile, though her face was absolutely scarlet. James stared openly at her.
What just happened? he thought. Fuck. I really need to remember what I said.
"Careful, James, you'll catch flies."
James snapped his mouth shut and glanced up. Sirius and Remus and Peter stood there, all three smiling a little uncertainly, not sure if they were interrupting. James could think of nothing to do but smile weakly at them.
"Hello," said Lily, pleasantly enough, and invited them to sit down.
James caught Sirius's glance, the question in his eyes – Do you want us here? – and minutely nodded his head. He wasn't sure what was going on with Lily, but he felt that he might not get much more out of her. In fact, she was standing up. She tugged her cloak closer to her body and grinned at James.
"It was lovely," she said, simply, and then walked away without another word.
James just shook his head when his friends kept staring at him curiously. "I don't even know," he said.
"Something weird is going on with Snape," Remus broke in suddenly, and James felt his focus successfully diverted.
The four Gryffindors looked toward the counter. Snape was still standing there, with Lestrange and Rosier. Their faces all looked pale and pinched, and they stood silently.
"Oh, great," muttered Sirius suddenly, and his eyes were glued to the door of the pub, where another student, also a Slytherin, had just come in.
It was Regulus Black.
"What's he up to?" asked Sirius quietly as his younger brother joined Snape and his lackeys. Surprisingly, the three older boys did not seem happy to see him.
"Sirius, don't," James warned, but a moment too late.
Sirius was up, and moving toward the Slytherins.
(SS-SS-SS)
Severus didn't feel the cold.
He walked toward Hogsmeade in erratic, jerky steps, sometimes long strides as if he wanted to get there quickly, sometimes short as if he might turn around. He had pulled the hood of his cloak up, so that he looked like a tall dark shadow moving down the path, and he kept one protective, long-fingered hand on the outside of his bag, feeling the bump bump of the small potions case within. There was a rolled piece of parchment inside the bag as well, he knew. He did his utmost not to think about it.
When he reached Hogsmeade, he stood still for a time with his eyes closed, feeling the bustle of bodies around him, hearing the excited laughter of his fellow students, envying their ability to be so joyous and carefree. Didn't they know that Hogsmeade was just a fairy tale town? That their happy lives were illusions? Didn't they understand what the real world held?
Not yet. But they would.
"Severus."
He opened his eyes. Rodolphus and Evan stood before him, both dressed as dark as he. Rodolphus had frown lines around his mouth and eyes and creases in his forehead. Evan was as white as snow.
Severus glanced carefully from side to side. He leaned toward his two friends. "I've been summoned," he breathed, his voice the mere hint of a whisper.
Rodolphus and Evan both nodded, but Rodolphus motioned quickly with a hand and they moved away from the busy lanes of Hogsmeade. "Not here," he said, his voice just as quiet as Severus's had been.
They hurried toward The Three Broomsticks. It was loud and crowded inside, and most of the patrons were drinking, well on their way toward inebriation, if not there already. They could talk without being overheard.
"I got the letter this morning," said Severus. He kept his voice hushed despite the raucous atmosphere.
"Yes, I did as well," said Rodolphus.
Evan merely nodded. He appeared unable to speak.
Severus thought of the rolled parchment in his bag. Now that his mind had turned toward it, he seemed incapable of thinking of anything else. He could see the letter, the long, sharp writing that could only belong to one person.
'Severus,
I find I desire to have my potions delivered personally. A portkey bearer will be waiting for you in Hogsmeade. Before the hour strikes twelve, you will be in my presence.'
No signature. No warnings not to tell anyone. Just directions, with the expectation that they would be followed with complete and utter obedience. Severus shivered.
"What does he want you for, then?" Severus asked his friends, but they just shook their heads, and glanced quickly around, as if afraid.
Someone stepped up to the counter next to him. Severus glanced to the side and down. Red hair. Lily.
"Two butterbeers, please," she said to the barmaid.
Severus cast his eyes about the dark, crowded pub, and felt himself grow hot and cold at once when his gaze alighted on James Potter, sitting alone at a table, a ridiculous, ugly smile on his face. Severus felt his hands curl, and he looked at Lily, unable to help himself. She glanced up at him, briefly, and anger and confusion and sadness crossed her face, and Severus wondered what he looked like, for her to react in such a way, but then she had two drinks in hand was walking away from him, and Severus had no time to think about her.
Not when all he could think about was the Dark Lord.
"What do we do?" asked Evan, finally, his voice a croak. "Should we go now?"
Severus swallowed thickly. "Might as well."
They turned, prepared to leave, and were confronted with Regulus Black shoving his way inside the inn. He caught sight of them, and strode over purposefully.
"I'm going, too," he said, his voice strong, before Severus or Rodolphus or Evan could say a single word.
"Absolutely not," countered Rodolphus, his voice quiet but firm. "It's out of the question. You were not summoned."
Regulus shifted his calm grey gaze between the three of them. "But I desire to serve our Lord as –"
"We know," said Severus quickly, quietly. "But he has not called you to him."
"Watch it," hissed Rodolphus suddenly, and Severus turned to find Sirius Black approaching. His stomach clenched. Could they have no peace?
Black leaned casually on the bar next to them. He ordered three butterbeers, and then peered sideways at Regulus, his nearly identical grey eyes narrow and alight with suspicion and curiosity. "Careful, little brother," he murmured, his voice almost without emotion, his tone carefully controlled. He collected his drinks and strolled just as casually back to his table.
Severus stared after him. "I thought you said you were going to take care of that," he told Regulus, but without taking his eyes away from the table where Potter now sat with Black and Lupin and Pettigrew.
Regulus appeared dangerously close to stomping his foot in frustration. "I am," he said. He glared at the three older Slytherins, as if they had personally offended him, and left the pub without another word.
"Let's go," said Rodolphus. "Let's go, Severus. It's time."
Severus nodded.
(HP-HP-HP)
The day was outwardly perfect. There was a crisp autumn wind, and the sky was shifting between golden blue and milky grey, and the trees were beginning to turn, and the air was filled with laughter.
The day was outwardly perfect. But Harry thought that if his scar had been connected to Voldemort in this time, it would have been aching. There was something in the air besides the sounds of happiness. Something thick. Something foul. Something that had his battle-hardened body moving as if he were conducting an Auror raid, not walking peacefully through Hogsmeade Village. His muscles were coiled like those of a snake, like at any moment he might unravel himself and lunge.
Harry saw Severus once, and the uneasiness that he could practically taste in the air hung heavy around the young Slytherin. Severus did not see him, for which Harry was grateful, but met up with his friends and walked off in the opposite direction from where Harry was standing. He hovered uncertainly near the post office, toward the edge of the village. The screeching of owls was loud here, but even that was not enough to mask the wary silence that had filled Harry's mind.
He had not been this alert and ready for trouble since landing in this time to begin with. On that day, he had been paranoid and suspicious of everyone and everything, convinced he was to be attacked at any moment, until he managed to find a newspaper that told him the year, and he puzzled out what must have happened. He felt like that now, that same paranoia, that same maddening inkling that something was about to happen. But it felt darker this time. More real.
Harry stood in shadow, not sure where to walk, knowing that he would only venture back to this little crossroads. Something held him here. Something was going to happen. He could feel it.
He didn't have to wait long.
Only twenty minutes passed before Regulus Black appeared, his face and stride alike determined, heading for the post office.
Harry waited on the balls of his feet, prepared for action.
But five minutes later, all that happened was Regulus emerging from the post office, a scowl on his face, and a tawny owl flying out the door behind him. Harry waited five seconds, to guarantee that Regulus would not look back, and then sent a wandless, nonverbal Accio! at the owl. It screeched when it discovered that its flight had been interrupted, but Harry had both the owl and the rolled parchment in his hands a moment later, and whispered a few words to the owl that saw it relax and cease its loud noises.
The letter was simple, only a few lines from Regulus to his mother, Walburga Black.
'Mother,
I hope this note finds you well. You will be glad to know that I am striving to serve our Lord daily, in any way that I can. However, Sirius has been unpleasantly underfoot lately, shadowing my success in bringing glory to our family.
Pass my regards to father.
Your son,
Regulus'
Harry grimaced. The Regulus of this time, a mere fifteen years old, had not yet decided that Voldemort was actually not worth the trouble at all. He was, at this point, too deeply involved in the Dark.
Harry carefully rerolled the letter. He was tempted to keep it, to not give it back to the pretty tawny owl, but his conscience nagged at him.
"Horrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time, Harry. Awful things."
His conscience sounded alarmingly like Hermione today.
With a sigh, Harry gave the letter back to the tawny, and gently let the bird take flight. As much as he wanted to, he could not stop that letter from getting to Mrs. Black, even though it would assuredly have unpleasant consequences for Sirius. He had determined, when he realized that he might be stuck here for a while, that he would only ever try to subtly influence people, not outright change events.
Regulus Black would change, he knew, but not for several years.
And there was still that thick feeling in the air, the feeling that said something was going to happen. Harry felt his feet move, and he followed them. They took him past the post office, past the hustle and bustle of the village, to a small clearing where three cloaked figures were meeting a fourth. Harry recognized Severus almost instantly, not because he could see his face, but because of his noticeable height. He thought the other two might be Lestrange and Rosier, but he did not recognize the fourth, shorter figure coming to meet them. This figure held a shopping bag from Zonko's, and held it up as if offering a gift.
Portkey, thought Harry instantly, and knew with certainty that he was right.
Regulus Black sprinted into sight just as Severus and the other boys reached out to touch the bag. Harry waited, balanced on his toes, rocking first forward, then back. He wanted to leap into action, but knew he could not. He wanted to shout. He pressed his lips together.
There were surprised gasps as Regulus shoved his way into the circle they created, but no time to stop him. The five dark figures vanished.
Harry sank down into a crouch, breathing as if he had run a mile. He did not know where his students were going, but he knew it was to meet Voldemort. There could be no doubt of that. He could not follow them, not even to keep watch at a safe distance. The last thing he needed was an encounter with the Voldemort of this time – possibly a stronger Voldemort than Harry had ever known.
"Be careful, Severus," Harry said in a whisper that was lost to the wind. "Be careful."
(SS-SS-SS)
Severus managed to keep his balance when they landed, but only just. Portkey was not his preferred method of travel. But he stayed on his feet, and stood upright and tall, determined to show no weakness. He cast a withering glare at Regulus, but the younger boy stared back unapologetically, and Severus simply shrugged.
Whatever happened to Regulus, he had brought it upon himself.
Severus had only time enough to check the conditions of Rodolphus and Evan, to notice that they were somewhere dark and heavily forested, and then the portkey bearer whipped out a wand and conjured blindfolds, and Severus knew they were to proceed in darkness. He bit his tongue near to bleeding when the blindfold was fastened around his eyes, but he did not struggle, not even when blackness had him breathing shallowly. He felt something prodding at his back, and they began moving forward like a herd of cattle.
Severus was not sure how long they walked. He tried counting, but lost track after eleven minutes. Soon, though, he heard the murmur of other voices, and felt a rush of air that did not belong outside as they passed indoors. Their blindfolds were removed.
They were in a long stone corridor, completely without any defining features. Severus did not recognize it. The corridor was lit by torches that gave off pools of pure white light, blinding after the darkness of their journey. The portkey bearer had disappeared. Severus and his friends were now prodded forward by men in black robes and silver masks.
Death Eaters.
Severus knew the name. He knew he was well on his way to becoming one himself. He tried to guess who might be under those masks, but they gave no clues. They simply moved, pushing the young students ahead of them, toward the door at the end of the corridor.
The door was stone, just like the walls and floor, and seemed all of one piece. There were runes on two of the stones, however, and when tapped with one of the Death Eater's wands, they slid soundlessly inward. Severus and his friends were pushed inside.
The chamber they landed in was circular, dark, and stone like everything else. The white-light torches formed a brilliant ring around the wall, and a Death Eater stood sentry between each glowing pool of light, unmoving but with wand in hand.
"Forward, dogs!" growled one of the Death Eaters behind them, and Severus moved forward. "On your knees before the Dark Lord!"
In front of a large wooden chair Severus fell, straight onto his knees, uncaring of the sharp pain that reverberated through his legs at the impact. He lurched forward onto his hands and touched his forehead to the floor, and stayed that way, only vaguely aware of Rodolphus and Evan and Regulus doing the same next to him. Through the very tops of his lashes he saw a pair of white bare feet, and the hem of a dark robe that seemed woven of shadow and mist. He could see no more until he was permitted to look up.
The feet shifted. The long, fine toes curled as the Dark Lord stood. The feet strayed past Severus, past Rodolphus and Evan, and came to stop before Regulus.
"Crucio," said a voice, low and sibilant, and Regulus began screaming.
Severus bit the inside of his cheek, hard, to keep himself from looking up. The chamber was eerily silent but for the shrill keening of Regulus, as if the walls absorbed all echoes of his screams, and the sounds traveled flatly. Severus could hardly hear his own breathing, though the cries and shouts and wordless shrieks coming from Regulus were quite loud enough to make up for any loss.
Severus knelt in place, his face pressed to the cold stone floor, and did not move. He felt his bones trembling, felt the tremors work up through his skin, felt himself wanting to gasp at the steady flow of magic that came from the Dark Lord. Severus had nearly forgotten how strong it was, how incredibly overpowering. He could feel nothing but that striking, oozing power.
He wanted to purr with arousal. He wanted to retch.
The screams ended. Regulus panted loudly.
"You may rise," said the voice again, and Severus could not disobey, could never disobey that voice.
He uncurled the top half of his body so that he was upright, but he stayed on his knees. He glanced to his left. Regulus lay curled on his side, gasping. The Dark Lord – white feet, white hands, white face – crouched low and placed his hand under Regulus's chin.
"You know why I had to punish you, young pup?" asked the Dark Lord. He rose, and pulled his hand with him, and with his hand came Regulus, puppet-like, boneless.
"Yes, my Lord," breathed Regulus. He had to swallow several times. "I was not called here, my Lord."
The Dark Lord stepped back and considered Regulus with a bored gaze. His eyes were red slits, his face sharp angles, smooth planes. Magic seemed to drip from his very pores.
"I am eager to serve, my Lord," whispered Regulus. He flattened himself onto the floor, all the way onto his belly, and waited.
The Dark Lord tilted his head to one side. His lips twisted – it could not be called a smile, for it was far too cruel – as he looked at Regulus. "It pleases me to see you so," he said, and spent a moment more staring at the prostrate Regulus before taking two sliding steps to the side, so that he stopped in front of Evan.
"Do you know why I have summoned you, Evan Rosier?"
Severus saw Evan stop a shake before it reached his hands. "No, my Lord."
The Dark Lord crouched again, smoothly, gracefully, so that he could peer in Evan's eyes. "You will be quite useful to me, I think," he stated. "I have heard it said that you are something of a changeling, a chameleon. You could be anything I wanted you to be, if I asked."
Evan could not hide his shaking this time, but he nodded all the same. "Yes, my Lord."
"Look into my eyes," the Dark Lord commanded in a voice so cold it made Severus shiver. Evan looked up, of course he looked up, for disobedience was not an option, and stared into the Dark Lord's eyes. "Yes, you will be quite useful."
The Dark Lord stood. He turned toward Rodolphus. "And you, young Lestrange," he said. "You are to marry Bellatrix, are you not?"
"Yes, my Lord," said Rodolphus.
"Then stand, Rodolphus, and meet your future bride."
The Dark Lord gestured sharply, and a slender young woman with deep-set eyes and masses of black curls stepped forward. She surveyed Rodolphus blankly, and Rodolphus looked at her with carefully controlled indifference. The Dark Lord turned his back on their meeting, and Severus forgot everything as those eyes swept round to gaze at him. The Dark Lord moved to stand directly before him.
"Stand, Severus," he ordered.
Severus stood. He knew he was tall and still growing, but the Dark Lord had a height that was impressive even to him. He stood like something out of a dream, out of a nightmare. Severus could barely catch his breath.
"The potions, Severus," said the Dark Lord softly.
Severus quickly removed the small case from his bag and held it out for the Dark Lord. He bowed at the waist as he did so, and tried not flinch as those cold, spidery fingers brushed his and took the case. The Dark Lord examined the potions within.
"Perfection," said the Dark Lord, so quietly that Severus was sure he was the only one to hear, and he felt his body overtaken by tremors when he realized that the Dark Lord had not just been speaking of the potions, but casting a critical eye over Severus as well. He wanted to shrink under that gaze. He wanted to bask in the power that radiated from it.
"You have done well, Severus," continued the Dark Lord. He ran his fingers slowly along the little glass vials. "You will be of great use to me over the years." His eyes traveled up Severus's body and landed on his face. "Look at me."
Severus raised his eyes, and without meaning to, without even really being aware of what he was doing, he Occluded. He shielded thoughts and memories, nothing important, but he found himself doing it naturally, wanting to hide at least something from the gaze that seemed to see all. The Dark Lord stared at him for several long, silent moments. Severus could not tell if the Dark Lord knew he was Occluding. Finally, finally he looked away, and Severus felt his breath rush out, felt an overwhelming freedom from those eyes, felt an aching loss as that power moved away from him.
"I have heard curious rumors from Hogwarts this year," said the Dark Lord in a voice that was designed to carry now around the curves of the round room. "There is a man at Hogwarts, yes? A young man who shows extraordinary magical ability."
Severus hesitated only briefly before nodding. He knew this had been coming. The Dark Lord had followers throughout Hogwarts, and not just in Slytherin House. But Severus felt a fierce protectiveness roll through him at the thought of Harry. He was none of the Dark Lord's concern. He was not involved in sides or politics at all, as far as Severus knew. And he knew quite a bit more about Harry than most.
The Dark Lord looked at Regulus, still flat on the floor, and then at Evan, still kneeling. He looked at Rodolphus and Bellatrix standing side by side, and finally looked at Severus. This time, Severus intended to Occlude. He very carefully, in the way that Harry had taught him, hid away all thought, all emotion, all memory that involved Harry in any way. The Dark Lord stared at him, and several emotions flickered through those red, red eyes.
"I find I greatly wish to meet this man," said the Dark Lord quietly, but he did not ask for Severus's help, or explain what he planned to do, or even mention Harry again. He turned back to Rodolphus. "You will soon marry one of my most loyal followers," he said.
Bellatrix trembled at the praise. She leaned toward the Dark Lord breathlessly as he approached, Rodolphus apparently forgotten.
"Hold out your arm, Rodolphus," commanded the Dark Lord, and he cradled between his fingers his yew wand.
Rodolphus obeyed. He rolled up his sleeve and stretched out his left arm. Severus felt a rush of approval as he watched his friend. Rodolphus stood steady, without shaking, though the tight press of his lips suggested he wanted to turn and flee.
"Today I mark you as mine," hissed the Dark Lord. "From this point on, and soon with Bellatrix at your side, you serve me." He pressed wand to skin. "Morsmordre." A series of sharp, hissing noises followed his pronunciation of the spell, and then Rodolphus arched back on his toes, flung his head back, and opened his mouth as if he were screaming, but no sound emerged.
The rush of power that permeated the room because of that spell had Severus wanting to drop to his knees again. But he stood as still as he could, his breath coming erratically, his fingers clenching and unclenching, leaving half moon marks in his palms.
Finally it was over. Rodolphus straightened, and the Dark Mark burned black into the skin of his left inner arm, and blood dripped down his fingers. He fell to his knees and bowed before the Dark Lord. "I am honored to serve the Great Lord Voldemort," he said.
The Dark Lord smiled. He glanced around the room. His eyes swept over Severus one last time, and then he turned back to his large wooden chair. "Leave me," he said.
There was a flurry of movement. Regulus and Evan were hoisted to their feet. Rodolphus stood. Severus felt something turn him around, and then they were being prodded out of the circular room. Back through the stone corridor they went, out into the open air they came, and a dark figure moved forward to meet them. Without a word the figure held up a silver chalice, and Severus touched it. He was only vaguely aware of his friends doing the same, before the tug behind his navel carried him away.
They landed in Hogsmeade. The sun was still high in the sky. There were still students milling about. They all looked happy and carefree. They had genuine smiles on their faces. Severus turned to look at his friends.
Regulus and Evan were supporting Rodolphus between them. Though he had shown no sign of weakness before the Dark Lord, he now looked as if he might be sick. His skin was startlingly pale, and though he had rolled his sleeve down once more, Severus could see blood soaking through.
"Dorms," gasped Rodolphus. His teeth began chattering. "Bed."
Severus moved forward. He took Evan's place in supporting one side of Rodolphus, since the other boy was a hair too short to do so comfortably. Evan led the way, keeping them clear of any passing groups of students. It felt like a long time before Hogwarts came into sight, and Rodolphus stumbled and tripped up the path so badly that he almost took both Severus and Regulus down with him.
But somehow, miraculously, they made it up to the castle and down to the dungeon without being seen by any of the professors. They passed through the Slytherin Common Room blindly, stripped Regulus down to his shorts, wrapped his arm, gave him a sleeping potion, and tucked him into bed. Not long after that, Evan himself climbed into bed. He pulled his curtains closed, and before Severus left the room he thought he heard the sound of stifled sobs.
The Common Room was nearly empty. Most students were still out at Hogsmeade. Only Vendra sat by the brightly burning fire, her purple hair feathered around her face, her impossibly blue eyes fixed on Severus.
"Oh, Severus," she whispered, and held out her hand to him.
He went to her. He sat down on a large, comfy couch, and then his body crumpled, he fell sideways, and his head landed in Vendra's lap. He felt cold, and hot, and exhausted, and exhilarated. Vendra whispered something to him, something he forgot as soon as he heard it, and her tiny hands moved through his hair.
He fell asleep.