The Absence
Chapter 12
by The Conqueror Worm
"Abuse me
Use me
Shut up and do me
'Cause everybody wants something from me."
-The Pretty Reckless
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Severus Snape stared morosely down at his goblet of wine, feeling rather annoyed at the loud prattling of a few hundred people sucking up to one another. He cast a rather terrifying glare around the room while leaning against the wall. He'd immediately gravitated toward a dark corner upon entering the room; he didn't want to speak with anyone. Lucius and Narcissa had greeted him warmly enough from their hosting position at the door, and he'd already said hello to Draco, who was appallingly and inexplicably dressed as a pumpkin. It was not common practice to wear silly Halloween costumes in the Wizarding world, as it was a Muggle tradition, though a lot of the females of high society seemed to take this opportunity to dress scandalously and the men's robes tended to get more eccentric. Narcissa, for one, had chosen blood red robes with a hip-high slit on one side, and Lucius had chosen snow-white robes for a nice contrast while standing beside her. Snape, as always, wore simple black robes.
"Well, if it isn't dear, little Snape," a woman trilled in his ear, making him slop wine down his front.
"Good evening, Bellatrix," he snarled, looking murderous as he swiped at his robes. Bellatrix was leaning against the wall beside him, simultaneously leering at him and smirking triumphantly. "Don't you look, ah…" he felt his face flushing slightly at the realization that Bellatrix was hardly wearing any robes; what was supposed to pass for clothing, he assumed, was little more than a leather contraption that barely covered her torso. Bellatrix grinned viciously as she watched him notice this.
"I see you opted out of the festivities, Snape," she replied, staring at his robes, which were perhaps the least sexual sort ever. "No matter. You're hardly the only one." She nodded to a black-clad group across the room, which was composed of an odd mixture of feral-looking men and some of the richest Purebloods in the room. Severus was surprised to see Lucius walking toward them, standing out like a ghost in his white robes. As soon as he noticed this, the group parted, and he saw that a pale, dark-haired man had been standing in the center. He had a sort of aristocratic air about him, which was not uncommon among the upper class, but the shocking thing was that the surrounding group seemed to be staring at him as if he were royalty. "That's the Dark Lord," Bellatrix whispered seductively in his ear, and Snape squirmed away from her, wiping away the warm wetness her mouth had left.
He adopted a bored tone, though his heart was hammering in his chest. He could swear that man had just looked straight at him as if he were little more than an interesting trinket he'd like to collect. "Is it?"
"If you want," she said as she ran just the tips of her fingers down his upper arm, "I'd just love to introduce you." Her voice had maintained a convincing amount of evil until this last part, and Snape could almost feel the lie radiating from her.
"Really? Or is this simply a chore you've been asked to do by this supposed Dark Lord?" He turned to look at Bellatrix, who let out an insane sort of menacing growl when he tried to probe her mind.
"None of your mind games, Snape. We can play on our own time." She hip-checked him and rudely pointed across the room at the group again. "Lucius is calling you." He followed her finger to see Lucius was indeed gesturing for him to join the small group. Snape narrowed his black eyes into slits; he never should have trusted Regulus. "I'd be more than happy to take you to—"
"Bellatrix!" a male voice boomed from his other side. "Whatever are you doing talking to Severus for so long? You're keeping him from making his social rounds." Snape snorted softly at this, turning to glare at Regulus's hand on his shoulder. "Why don't I introduce you to some friends of mine, Snape? They're right, oh, over there." Snape followed his finger back toward the group, where Lucius seemed to be growing more annoyed by the second that he had still not crossed the room.
Bellatrix put her hand possessively on his other shoulder. "Actually, Reg, we were just about to join the Dark Lord. If you'll excuse us."
Regulus tugged on Snape's sleeve. "I don't really think…"
"Both of you, stop touching me now." Bellatrix and Regulus looked at Snape, surprised at his interruption of their bickering. "And I'm quite comfortable remaining right here. Alone." Neither one of them were listening to him, though, and he realized why when a quiet, silky voice began to speak from in front of him.
"Hello. I am Lord Voldemort. Perhaps you have heard of me." This was not stated as a question. Snape looked up at the handsome man before him, who was also dressed in simple black robes, though his had an expensive, tailored look about them. His skin had a slight waxy texture, and his dark brown eyes looked almost black as they bored into Snape's.
"Yes, my Lord. This is Severus Snape, who I was—" Voldemort held up a hand, silencing Regulus.
"Of this, I am already aware, Regulus." He was smiling, but it did not reach his eyes. "Your friends have always spoken quiet highly of you, Severus. In fact, Regulus was just praising your potioneering the other day. Is it true that you are a Potions Master? And at such a young age." Voldemort's emotionless eyes ran up and down Snape's body, sizing him up.
Snape's eyes flickered toward Regulus beside him. "Actually, I'm still waiting on my licensure to pass."
Voldemort smiled his odd little smile again. "Of course, but Dolohov here happens to work at the Ministry, don't you Dolohov?" A bitter-looking man with dirty blonde hair nodded grimly on his left. "And he's taken the liberty of making sure the right people hurry along with your licensure. Lord Voldemort hates to see such talent kept waiting."
Snape returned his direct stare, feeling uneasy. "I see. That was very…kind of you," he said without enthusiasm. Lord Voldemort did not seem like the sort of person who did anything out of kindness.
"Well, as a show of your appreciation, I would be honored if you joined us for a little meeting at midnight. It won't take long." Severus looked over at Lucius. Everyone else was looking at Lord Voldemort, rapt, but Lucius was staring at Snape with a mixture of apprehension and anxiety. As soon as he noticed Snape looking at him, however, he maneuvered his features into a look of bored indifference. Voldemort turned his attention to Regulus. "And you, Regulus, I hope will join us for some extra festivities after that, won't you? Bellatrix and Lucius will be joining us as well." Bellatrix nodded eagerly at his words, excited at whatever opportunity Voldemort was speaking of. Lucius was now staring over his shoulder at Draco, who had fallen over in his pumpkin costume and was angrily ordering Crabbe and Goyle's boys to help him. It seemed as if he wanted to be talking to anyone else right now.
After the group had dispersed and Bellatrix had ran after Lord Voldemort to ask if he liked her robes tonight, Narcissa walked up to Snape and Lucius, the latter of whom was still standing there, watching his son. "Isn't Draco just precious?" she asked the pair, smiling proudly.
"Why did you make him wear that thing? He hates it. He can't even move his arms," Lucius sniped, though he was secretly amused.
"Well, Lucius," she replied, entwining one of her arms around his and reminding Snape a lot of her sister. "While everyone else's ugly children were toddling about, I wanted our beautiful one to really stand out. And he has. I've been getting compliments all night about precious he is."
Lucius nodded. "Naturally. Just look at his stunning parents." They shared a warm look before Narcissa turned her attention to Snape.
"Severus! How lovely for you to join us. I do hope you're enjoying the party. We barely had a chance to speak at the door." Snape allowed her to prattle on some more about her family and some of their old classmates, but he was really watching Lucius, who looked uneasy under his stare. This was not a reaction Snape was used to eliciting in Lucius Malfoy, who always seemed so sure of himself and delighted in talking down pedantically to his school friend—and everyone, for that matter. When Narcissa moved on to rub it into Mrs. Greengrass's face how blonde Draco's hair was in comparison to her children's, Snape turned to Lucius.
"And will you be at this meeting?" he began, as if this was a conversation they had been having all along.
Lucius nodded. "As one of the Dark Lord's inner circle, it is expected that I will be."
"And if you just didn't show up?"
His friend sighed in response, suddenly looking uncharacteristically tired beneath the bright lights above them. "I expect the Dark Lord would be quite angry if I didn't. It doesn't matter, though, as I plan to be there. It is what we all must do if we plan to return the natural balance of things, in which Muggles and Muggleborns bow down to true Wizards." He turned to Snape. "Will you?" Suddenly, inexplicably, thoughts of his father intruded into Snape's thoughts. He remembered how pathetic and small his father had looked through the hospital window, how the doctor had said his liver was failing. How he had felt nothing at these words, had refused to go to the funeral despite his mother's pleading. "You don't have to make a commitment to anything right now, but it's the least you could do for Regulus. He's been talking about you endlessly to the Dark Lord, and I'm sure he'd appreciate it if you at least showed up to one meeting."
"I hardly see how that's my problem," Snape replied, but he obviously felt some pity for Regulus, as midnight found him standing in a large room at the back of Malfoy Manor. He was unpleasantly surprised to see that he seemed to be the main focus of this small gathering. All around him, he spotted a quite a few Purebloods, along with some influential Half Bloods from the Ministry and Daily Profit. Each one of them, including Lucius now, were wearing the same type of black robes and holding something resembling a hard white mask in their left hand.
"How lovely for you to join us, Severus," the Dark Lord hissed quietly. It was obvious that he was used to others listening to him without question. His pale face stood out in the sea of dark robes, and his eyes glittered slightly from the sparse light of the few lit candles in the room. "I can see that you are impatient, so allow me to explain my interest in your membership with the Death Eaters."
Snape frowned at this. "Death Eaters?"
Lord Voldemort laughed a high-pitched, ringing laugh. Snape felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up at the sound, and several of the people in the circle around him shifted uncomfortably. "It's just a nickname my followers like to call themselves." He resumed his serious expression, as if no interruption had occurred. "I feel that you would be a good follower due to your Potions-making ability. I'm not sure if you are aware, but Professor Slughorn is about to retire from his position as Potions' Master at Hogwarts. I believe that you would be a good candidate for his replacement, and I am quite sure Dumbledore would agree."
Snape narrowed his eyes, feeling revulsion at the idea of children being near him in any context. Briefly, he remembered his encounter with Lily's child, which only further validated his feelings on the matter. "And why would I do that, exactly? I have no desire to teach children. I plan to start my own Apothecary as soon as my licensure is completed."
"I see. And in due time, all of your dreams will be possible. But for now, it would be better for all involved if you were to take a position at Hogwarts. If you should do this thing for Lord Voldemort, he would be more than willing to give you everything you desire in return."
Severus felt oddly indignant at these words. He had always prided himself on being inscrutable to other people. "How do you know what I desire?"
An odd, reddish glint seemed to flash in the Dark Lord's eyes. "Lord Voldemort knows all." His voice was oddly echoic yet muffled as he said these words, and Snape felt strange, as if he were falling backward, before his entire body suddenly lurched and caused him to fall to his knees. He had always prided himself on his Legilimency skills; they were something he was born with, and he had worked for years to improve them. Predictably, his Occlumency skills had always been quite strong as well. A few times in his life, he had felt them weakly tested. Bellatrix, for one, always tried to probe his thoughts whenever she caught his eye, and Remus Lupin had once or twice attempted to when he was a Prefect at Hogwarts and had come upon the other Marauders harassing Snape. Never had any pushed his limits like this. He was immediately drowning in his own memories.
The first things he saw were ones that didn't matter, thoughts he kept close to the surface because it would not bother him if they were found. First, there were his memories of working at the Apothecary, noticing the unhappy, disapproving way Melinda regarded him. She hardly made it a secret that she thought he was brilliant but strange and unpleasant. A memory of Slughorn regarding him the same way. There was the memory of Sirius in the shop, avoiding his stare, and then multiple instances of Regulus standing before him, mocking the working class. The Dark Lord pushed further and further, and Snape couldn't push back; all of his limits were failing. James Potter and Sirius Black were picking on him, calling him "Snivellus," cursing him in the hallway. Lucius Malfoy smiling curiously at him when he cursed Mulciber in the common room; he took him under his wing as an odd little companion and everyone stopped teasing him. The strange acceptance of his dorm mates then. There was Dumbledore swearing him to secrecy, followed by the actual memory of facing Remus Lupin in werewolf form. He had been so afraid of dying. Then there were his parents. His mother, meek and pathetic, and his father angry and constantly drunk. The memory of how he had never felt loved, had always been overlooked. The secret, boiling anger that he felt whenever he was looked down by anyone, everyone. He had always been someone who wanted to be feared and respected, and he had spent most of his life vowing to seek revenge on all of them. Lord Voldemort pushed past this feeling with a triumphant smile, at last reaching Snape's most secret thoughts.
There it was, that insane, disgusting desire to be loved, always, and the one person Snape had always wished to love him. Suddenly, he was awash in Lily, in everything about her. Her green eyes, her long red hair, the eager way she looked at him before Hogwarts when he was the only Wizard she knew. The way she held his hand, and the hurt when she grew older and stopped. The hollow disappointment he felt when she was sorted into Gryffindor. How she hugged him goodbye and hello so many times. How she grew and her body started to change and his body started to change and he couldn't stop thinking about what she must look like naked. The embarrassing time Regulus had caught him wanking in the shower and told everyone in their year and then some, and everyone in Slytherin started calling him "Severus Wank" for all of third year until Lucius told them to stop. The shame he felt in fifth year when James Potter exposed him to everyone, and the embarrassment of Lily standing up for him. How he'd chased after her for the rest of the year, apologizing for calling her a Mudblood. The relief when she finally forgave him after spending a summer apart. And then the excruciating pain that he felt when she told him she was pregnant with James Potter's child, and then later, when Potter had gloated that they were going to be married as soon as they graduated. The realization that her body was changing again, widening, her stomach growing grotesquely large under her school robes. How he stopped thinking about what she looked like naked because he was trying so hard to not think of her at all. How they never spoke and she stopped trying after only a few weeks of him ignoring her, and it became like they were never friends again. And then, there she was, like a ghost, her stomach flat, standing on his doorstep at Spinner's End. How they'd fallen into a sort of awkward acquaintanceship, seeing each other every few months. The feeling that this was worse than not seeing her at all because it was like she was being dangled in front of him, never really his, even in those few moments when she sat next to him as he brewed potions, pretending to help. And then there was last night.
"No!" he cried out, and his wand was in his hand, as if by instinct.
"My Lord!" Bellatrix shrieked, and there was the sound of many feet racing toward the center of the room, followed by some painful yells as people trod on each other's feet. Snape opened his dark eyes woozily and was shocked to see Lord Voldemort lying prostrate on the floor before him. He stared down at his hand where his wand was still clutched. Crap.
"Off. I said, get off, Bellatrix." Voldemort rose to his feet, furious. He looked as if he wanted very badly to curse Snape right back, but he instead opted for a kind of terrifying calm. The glint in his eyes seemed to fluctuate between red and brown, though Snape couldn't be sure in the dim light. "It would be unwise to curse Lord Voldemort ever again, Severus Snape. However, I will let it pass…this time. Your memories have revealed something that has led me to believe you and I can do much for one another. This girl… Lily, was it? It seems she loves another man. Or does she?" He smiled cruelly down at Snape. "In any case, you care quite deeply for her. What if I were to make the inconvenience of her marriage disappear?"
Snape regarded him coolly. "And how would you do that?"
"By removing the obstacles in your way." Voldemort glided over to him, his black robes swishing softly as he moved. "You are a Half Blood, Severus," he said, walking around Snape in a slow circle. "You carry the last blood that is left of the noble Prince line, and yet you stand by while blood traitors take what is yours. But no longer. You can have your little Mudblood, keep her as your little pet. Lord Voldemort will provide this and more. All you must do is go to Hogwarts and play your part well. You will merely need to keep tabs on Dumbledore, see who he is meeting with, who stands in the way of Pureblood rule. And when the time is right, you will vacate your post and begin your Apothecary—with Lily at your side, if you wish."
He swallowed, staring at Voldemort, at Bellatrix, who still seemed furious at his cursing the Dark Lord, and at Regulus, who was watching eagerly, as if Christmas had come early. But then his eyes flickered to Lucius, who was standing very still, his eyes oddly wide in comparison to his calm, pale features. He was the only one who hadn't rushed to the Dark Lord's side. And inexplicably, there it was again, the memory of his father dying in that bed, alone, no longer someone Snape feared. It was a memory Voldemort passed over because it had no great emotional reaction attached to it. Because that was the exact moment when it became very obvious that life was very fleeting and humans were all very, very weak. And then there was the memory of Lily, asking him if it mattered if you were Muggleborn, and he had lied and said no, it didn't matter. There was the memory of the look on her face when she said her son resembled James with such sadness, and the memory of her hand on his thigh. And finally, tragically, the memory of how he felt when he opened his front door and saw her standing there, after so long, asking to be let back into his life, his heart, as if she knew she always had a place there. How dare she think that? A strange anger began to grow in his chest, pulsating with each beat of his heart. What did Lord Voldemort know about him or what he desired? Why should he be anyone's puppet, their play thing, their distraction from their miserable lives? As if he ever owed the world a thing.
He rose slowly to his feet, his head bowed. "No, I don't think we can help one another." He turned and left the room, ignoring Bellatrix's shriek of rage and Regulus calling his name with horror in his voice. It was time to go home. Because, in the end, what he truly wanted most was to be alone.
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Okay, I'm sure right now some of you are thinking, 'What the hell?' My answer is that I only ever had a very vague mental outline of where this thing was going, and it's kind of taken on a life of its own. Originally, he was going to be a Death Eater, but then I realized my timeline is AU anyway. He's not right out of school, young and naïve; he's a grown-up with eight years of life experience under his belt, so...Voilà. I will mention that not being a Death Eater hardly makes someone a good person, though.
There'll be a new chapter sometime next week; I'm shooting for Monday. And many thanks toward the people who have reviewed, etc. so far; I truly appreciate it!
