Chapter 12 — Severus Learns to Sober Up

After a while, I started to notice the discomfort of sitting on the floor.

My back ached, and my joints were stiff. Part of that was likely left-over from the Cruciatus this morning. What was I doing? Sitting around, entertaining myself with my own self-pity? So what if Albus was more worried about the war than my personal happiness? What was one man's happiness, when weighed against so many lives?

So what if he needed me to seduce Umbridge? It was hardly worse than anything else I'd been tasked with, both in the name of the Dark Lord and in defeating him.

There was a good chance I would die before this war was over. But there were far worse reasons to die.

I pushed myself off the ground, using the wall to steady myself. Once I'd made it to my feet, I found myself more stable than I'd feared, although the headache had started to settle in. I carefully made my way over to my desk, and quickly retrieved the potion that would allow me to continue functioning. The headache reliever was probably the most valuable potion I'd ever learned, and that was including the Wolfsbane.

The soothing relief was instant, and I felt a sigh escape my lips.

"Mipsy," I called, after I'd spent a moment gathering myself.

She appeared with a small pop, and took in the state of the room in poorly-disguised horror.

"Can you clean this up?" I asked her, and she nodded furiously.

"Yes, Master Snape sir! Mipsy will do that!"

I grabbed the pile of essays and my marking quill and left my quarters for my office. I would work better there anyway.


The week managed to slip by without the world ending. I watched the Dark Lord like a hawk, but he truly didn't seem to be a danger to the students. He attended his classes, charmed his professors, and taught his fellow students Defence.

If the Dark Lord was attempting to build a power base here, he was likely succeeding. Despite the Ministry's attempts to discredit him, he was slowly regaining his popularity amongst the students. It helped that he hadn't made any recent public declarations against the Dark Lord. The other Dark Lord. Merlin, it was impossible to differentiate them in my mind. I would have to call one of them something different, but what? Even in my thoughts it felt dangerous to name the Dark Lord by his chosen name. Even thinking the word made me feel as if he would turn his attention to me. It felt dangerous.

It didn't help, of course, that the Dark Lord was staring at me.

It was my Thursday afternoon potions class, and the Dark Lord was staring at me over his potion, which was currently simmering. His potion was perfect, although I expected nothing less. Certainly Potter's grades wouldn't be hurt by his absence. Hopefully the boy was still absorbing something of his surroundings, wherever he was. Given what I knew of possession, it was highly probably that the boy was still aware of what his body was doing. Perhaps he would even learn something.

I was ahead on my marking, so I was using the time to further examine Bane's diary. It was going more slowly than I'd hoped, however, especially given what a distraction having the Dark Lord in my class was turning out to be.

Monday hadn't been so bad, since the students were using the whole time to brew, but today I'd had to lecture. While I most likely surpassed the Dark Lord in potions knowledge, he was still an extremely clever and well-learned man, and teaching him had been surprisingly embarrassing. It had been a long time since I'd been so nervous giving a lecture, and the Dark Lord's coy smirk throughout hadn't helped. I'd managed to avoid making eye contact with him, but I could feel his presence. Hopefully no one had noticed my embarrassment. This whole affair was surprisingly humiliating.

"Get back to work, Brown," I called out, and a blushing Lavender Brown turned away from where she had been flicking surreptitiously through a magazine and back to her potion. Truthfully, this stage of the potion involved a lot of sitting around, and it wasn't surprising that she'd turned to other entertainment. However, she wasn't a good enough potions student to let herself get distracted. Not to mention, shouting at her had made me feel a little better.

The Dark Lord was still staring at me when I looked back towards him. The steam from the cauldrons, especially prevalent in the cold dungeon air, turned his form hazy and indistinct. He looked like he might be a ghost, or a dream perhaps.

Miss Granger nudged him, and he turned towards her with an indulgent smile. What was that? I'd never seen the Dark Lord so friendly towards anyone before. Merlin, he'd let her hug him. Was it Potter's soul affecting his personality? Or was he truly willing to go to such lengths to ensure her loyalty?

It seemed likely to be a mixture of both, I supposed. While Harry Potter himself could indeed inspire some sort of rebellion (assuming the Dark Lord played his hand carefully enough), having Granger on his side would lend an air of respectability to the whole thing. Not only was Granger actually a muggle-born, which would help convince others he was serious, but she was also known for being completely beholden to the rules. (Somewhat ironically, considering what I'd recently learned of her.) But if even she was advocating for overthrowing the Ministry, the other students may take him more seriously.

With a strong following in Hogwarts, after graduation he would be much better poised to go out into the world and spread his message. Hogwarts was a rather elite school, and many who graduated from here went on to work in the Ministry. The Dark Lord was well-positioned to get many of his own followers into strategic positions.

It would all be vastly difficult, of course. To inspire so much loyalty in his followers that they stayed true to his cause for years and years… It was nothing he hadn't done before, but would it work again on such a different group of people? He had so many advantages this time, but the idea still seemed ludicrous. To think that one person could have such an effect on the entire world…

But again, that was rather what the Dark Lord was known for.

I was thinking myself in circles. I'd been debating this topic over and over with myself since Saturday, and it wasn't getting me anywhere. I had too much to worry about in the short term to be debating the long term. Especially given how many things were still uncertain.

And yet, every time I looked at the Dark Lord, I wondered if this was simply my new reality. To watch as the Dark Lord achieved success after success, reaching new heights he'd only ever dreamed of.

"Weasley, stop dithering and concentrate!" I shouted at the simpleton, watching as his face turned pale and then flushed. He glared at me and pointedly picked up his knife and started chopping ingredients. He was doing a hideous job, and likely his potion would turn out terribly.

I felt a lot better. I had better things to do than worry. Like stalk around the classroom, making disparaging remarks at everyone's potions. Potter's and Granger's were both excellent, and I mostly ignored them, except to squarely meet the Dark Lord's gaze for a painfully long moment.

He looked amused.

Thankfully, the class period finished without any hospitalisations necessary.

I was less thankful for the way the Dark Lord lingered after class, sending Miss Granger ahead without him.

Once the other students had cleared out, he closed the door and approached my desk, where I was seated in my usual chair.

"Yes, Harry?" I said, gritting my teeth at the name. The Dark Lord smirked at me in response.

"I've got good news, Severus," he said cheerily. His demeanour reminded me eerily of Potter's after I'd promised to try to kill him for that ritual we did. And wasn't that a haunting though.

"Good news?" I repeated blankly. Whatever the Dark Lord had planned for me, I was sure it wasn't good.

"Well, good for one of us at least." The sixty plus year-old man played with the straps on his bag while he grinned eagerly at me from his youthful face. Every part of this was disturbing. "I've finally thought of a way for you to start repaying me for your betrayal."

Oh gods. The fearful look must have shown on my face (and when had I become so obvious?) for the Dark Lord actually laughed at me.

"Don't worry, Severus. I merely need you to brew some potions."

I didn't stop worrying. I sat still, tensed and waiting.

"Of course, they're highly dangerous and extremely illegal potions, but I'm sure you'll have fun regardless." The Dark Lord gave me Potter's most charming smile, which strangely enough I'd only ever seen on the elder Potter's face until this moment. Wasn't it funny how things worked out.

Still, brewing potions was preferable to many of the other things the Dark Lord could have asked (forced) me to do, no matter how illegal and dangerous they were. And maybe a little bit because they were illegal and dangerous.

"What potions?" I asked, reluctantly curious.

"While this body is very powerful, it lacks some of the protections my old body had. I have a couple rituals in mind that require some very tricky potions. I could brew them myself, but it's tedious and boring and I think a much better job for you."

How delightful. Still, I found myself becoming interested against my will. While it was true that brewing could occasionally become very tedious indeed, I always found learning a new potion interesting, especially if it was tricky. I opened my mouth to give one of my usual sarcastic replies before I suddenly remembered just who I was talking to.

"Of course, Harry," I replied respectfully, mentally substituting "my lord" instead, and the Dark Lord's lips twitched in almost-laughter. What did he want from me? He behaved nothing like the more serpentine Dark Lord would in this situation, and he was much more casual than I was used to seeing. Quite frankly, it put me on edge. I had to keep reminding myself that he wasn't actually a teenager; wasn't actually Potter. It was difficult to all the time I'd had to get used to Potter's face.

"So here's a list of ingredients I'll need you to get," he said, and pulled a piece of parchment out of his bag. When he handed me the parchment, our fingers brushed. His skin was surprisingly cool.

I unfolded the list and scanned the ingredients. Dear Merlin. He hadn't been lying when he said these rituals were dark. Most of these ingredients were at least restricted, if not banned outright, and quite a few were morally questionable as well.

Some were downright horrendous.

"You want me to collect all these?" I asked, my face pale. This was… quite possibly more than I could handle. I'd done a lot for the Dark Lord, including some truly terrible things, but this was a line I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to cross. Not to mention, some of the creatures on this list could easily kill me.

The Dark Lord inspected me carefully. "I'll assist you in collecting them, of course."

I closed my eyes, and clenched the parchment tightly in my hands. "Thank you," I made myself say, and when I opened my eyes again the Dark Lord was staring quietly at me. He had a peculiar expression on his face, that was even more difficult to read since his face was currently Potter's.

"Is the protection on Potter's body not sufficient?" I asked, desperately wanting to change the subject.

"From being a horcrux, you mean? I, ah, doubt it's still in effect. I'm not exactly a horcrux anymore, am I." The Dark Lord gave a small shrug, and it amazed me how quickly he'd relearned to be a teenager. Truly, truly remarkable. I also got the impression that he was lying, but the Dark Lord was an exceptional liar. Did he want me to think he was lying? What purpose could that possibly serve?

"When do you wish to go?" I asked, setting aside for the moment concerns over possible layers of deception.

"This weekend, I think," the Dark Lord replied, and he must have noticed my hesitation, for he raised his eyebrows and continued: "What, do you have something better to do?"

"Your other self will likely summon me this weekend," I warned.

He wrinkled his nose, a gesture so unlike the Dark Lord that for a moment I thought it might be Potter again. "Do you know when?"

"Likely Saturday evening," I hazarded a guess. "I expected to receive a summons last weekend but didn't, so this weekend seems very likely."

"So we'll go tomorrow evening, and then again on Sunday if we need to."

I hesitated again, and the Dark Lord let out an exasperated sigh. "What else could you possibly have? You were never this busy when you were younger."

"I have agreed to take Dolores Umbridge on a date," I said stiffly, and the Dark Lord gaped at me.

"Oh Severus, I had no idea you were so… desperate."

"It's a favour for the headmaster," I elaborated quickly. "He desires information about Umbridge's plans, and since she seems to favour me…"

"I was a dark lord and I'm not sure even I would stoop that low," the Dark Lord commented, a touch of awe in his voice.

"It's actually our second date," I further explained, appreciating his understanding for just how unfortunate this turn of events had been.

"Is it… serious?" he asked in horrified amusement. He seemed to get some joy from the situation, but I found myself appreciating his sympathy nonetheless.

"Of course not," I protested, and he looked embarrassingly skeptical.

"Do you want it to be?" he asked, and it took me a moment before I realised he was teasing me.

"Most assuredly not."

"So when's your date?" the Dark Lord asked gleefully.

"We're getting lunch on Sunday."

"Excellent. So Sunday evening is free then. Friday and Sunday it is. I'll be by your office tomorrow evening, and we start hunting."

I flinched at the word, knowing he wasn't joking. That list was… Rather intense.

"What time should I expect you?" I asked, reminding myself again to keep my tone polite and respectful.

"Eh, nine maybe," he tossed out carelessly. 'Nine maybe.' How delightful. "Anyway, I'm off. Have fun with your whatever it is you do." He waved at me dismissively and left the room.

"How charming," I muttered to myself, pulling my notes on the diary closer. I had work to do.


The next morning at breakfast, Minerva found me glaring at a piece of toast.

"You're here awfully early, aren't you, Severus?" she noted, settling herself into the chair next to mine and pulling a pot of tea over.

"Unfortunately," I replied stiffly, not looking up from my plate.

"Did that toast do something to offend you?" asked Minerva dryly, and I spared her a glare.

"Yes," I said curtly, and she laughed. Her laughter normally would have earned at least a smile from me, but I was too miserable to be distracted from my poor temper.

"I take it you didn't sleep well?" Minerva said, a smile still on her lips.

"No, I did not," was my reply. My discussion with the Dark Lord yesterday had invoked what were likely stress dreams. They held elements of nightmares, but they'd evoked more despair than fear. I hadn't been sleeping well since last weekend, but this was the first time I'd dreamt. Generally my Occlumency did a reasonable job at keeping any dreams away, mysterious dreams of the Dark Lord aside.

"Well, have some tea then," Minerva suggested, and poured me a cup. I took it reluctantly, but still held it to my lips for a moment to savour the scent before drinking. The first sip brought a wash of calm upon me, even managing to penetrate through my disgruntlement.

I let out a long sigh.

"Is that better?" asked Minerva in amusement.

"I suppose," I answered reluctantly, but she understood what I wasn't saying.

"So have you decided on a venue for your date?" Minerva asked after a moment of blessed silence.

"Hell." I started tearing my toast into strips rather than eating it. After such poor sleep, my stomach wasn't settling properly this morning. I would need energy for my morning classes, however, so I was loathe to skip breakfast entirely. Perhaps I would bring some toast with me to eat after the first period. If I left breakfast early I would have time to get ahead on writing a surprise quiz for Monday. I would likely need it after this weekend.

"Oh, I've heard it's lovely this time of year," Minerva commented, and her sarcasm drew a reluctant smile from me.

"Do you have a better suggestion?" The tea was actually quite good, now that I was drinking it. My stomach was starting to feel a little calmer.

"I would suggest the Hog's Head, but perhaps that's too good for her." Minerva punctuated her words with a haughty sniff, and I snorted.

"As if I would ever take her anywhere that close to the castle."

"Somewhere in Diagon then?" she asked curiously, and I nodded.

"That's where we went for our last— where we went last time."

Minerva seemed amused at my almost-choice of words. "Where?"

"Al's," I reluctantly supplied. "I thought it was fitting, and since Albus was paying anyway…"

Minerva was impressed. "Well, I'm sure you made an excellent impression," she teased, and I scowled at her.

"Too good, if I'm being forced through this farce again."

"I'm sure Albus wouldn't ask if it weren't important," Minerva consoled me, although I wasn't sure why she thought that would cheer me up.

"I'm still not convinced this isn't simply another prank," I said darkly, and Minerva coughed out a laugh.

"He never would have been able to keep it a secret this long," she pointed out, and I sighed.

"You're likely correct."

My tea finished, I managed to force down some of my toast. It stuck unpleasantly in my throat, but I didn't think my stomach was prepared for jam.

A flurry of owls brought the paper down in front of me, and I gave it a critical eye as I poured myself more tea.

"At least the news doesn't look too bad today," Minerva commented, rifling through her own copy.

"Anything good?" I asked, although I wasn't really that interested.

"Some idiot enchanted a toilet seat and got stuck on it," she read.

"Hmm," I replied, slightly cheered.

There was a round of laughter from the Gryffindor table, and Minerva and I immediately looked over. Laughter at breakfast was never a good sign.

Thankfully, nothing was on fire. Instead, some students were crowded around Longbottom, who was holding up a remembrall with bright red smoke in it. It matched the red on his face.

"Your gran must think yer a right moron," Finnegan jeered, and Longbottom's blush deepened.

"You could use one yourself, Seamus," Mister Thomas pointed out. "You forgot three homework assignments in a row!"

"Oi, that was private!" Finnegan responded, turning just as red as Longbottom.

"Well you shouldn't tease Neville like that," Thomas chastised, and Finnegan moved away from Longbottom and back to his seat with a grumble.

"Thomas seems to have been a good choice," I murmured to Minerva, watching the drama with a critical eye.

"He really does," Minerva replied, a smile on her face. She'd always had something of a soft-spot for Longbottom, Merlin knew why. I supposed she had a thing for an underdog. Gryffindors were always like that.

"I think Mister Finnegan is feeling left behind, however," she added, and her smile faded as she turned her gaze towards Finnegan. "He's been spending more time with Mister Weasley, and seems to be acting out."

"I haven't noticed anything in my classes," I admitted. "Although they're always terrible, so perhaps I merely couldn't notice the difference." I struggled to remember Finnegan's behaviour in class, but truthfully I was usually distracted by Potter. Or lately, by the Dark Lord. It was rather difficult to focus on other things while in his threatening presence.

"He's been sassier than usual," she elaborated. "More back-talk, and of course he's been very bad at turning in homework recently. Filius mentioned something about it to me the other day, so I know it's not just my class."

"I shall have to pay more attention going forward," I said, and felt rather embarrassed that I hadn't already been paying more attention.

"Has he been turning in his homework promptly?" Minerva asked me, and that at least was a question I could answer.

"As promptly as ever," was my dry response. "The boy seems to be allergic to hard work." His grade suffered accordingly, but he was still passing. We would see if that was still the case after the quiz on Monday.

After my second cup of tea, I finally felt ready to head to my classroom. There was still forty-five minutes before classes were due to start, which would give me plenty of time to start writing the quiz.

On my way out of the Great Hall, I almost bumped into Luna Lovegood (again).

"Good morning, Miss Lovegood," I said politely, and moved to go around her. She stepped with me, back into my path. I stopped short.

"Good morning, professor," she said, with an absent smile.

"Can I help you?" I asked, after another moment where she did not get out of my way.

"Yes!" she said, her smile becoming a little more genuine. "I have an idea for a potions project, but I'm worried it might be dangerous to experiment alone. I was wondering if you would be willing to oversee it?"

It wasn't often that students came to me with something like this (although Filius received similar requests quite often), and while I was hesitant to add more work to my already overflowing plate, I was pleased both at the fact that Miss Lovegood thought well enough of me to feel comfortable asking, and also that she hadn't decided to risk it and gotten hurt. Potions could be very dangerous, and that was really one of the biggest lessons I tried to impart upon students. Somehow, despite all the explosions, many of them still never learned it.

"I suppose I could find the time," I informed her graciously, and she beamed at me. I didn't want to admit it to myself (and it seemed that lately there were a great many things I didn't want to admit to myself), but her smile cheered me up at least as much as the second cup of tea had. Not the first cup, of course. But the second, certainly.

"Thank you!" she said in excitement. Her radish earrings seemed to jangle faster in response to her enthusiasm. "When are good times?"

"My posted hours are generally free. If a student comes with a question, I of course will need to deal with them, but my hours are not… popular." Even among my Slytherins, the students rarely took advantage of my office hours. This was actually more common amongst the faculty, although Miss Granger was very enthusiastic about visiting everyone's office hours except for mine, I'd heard. Not that I minded at all. My colleagues were welcome to her.

Although… given my recent discoveries, perhaps she wasn't entirely a lost cause.

"Okay!" Miss Lovegood enthused. And was that a hollowed-out mushroom cap around her finger? She skipped away before I could look closer, and even as I watched her leave, I saw her stop for a chat with a portrait.

Shaking my head slightly (slightly enough so that the students passing by wouldn't notice), I retreated to the dungeons for my first class of the day, feeling rather more prepared than I had a moment ago.


The Dark Lord was at my door at eight thirty seven that evening. He pushed it open without knocking, and distracted as I was with finishing the quiz, I wasn't paying close enough attention.

"Potter, have you—" I cut myself off and fell silent, staring at a bemused Dark Lord.

"Have I what, Severus?" he asked, letting the door slam behind him.

I hadn't had a drink all week, but I felt strongly that I needed one at that very moment. "My apologies, my— Harry. Old habits." I was always worn out on Friday evenings. I couldn't believe I agreed to spend the whole evening collecting ingredients with the Dark Lord. This was madness.

Merlin's beard, but I was tired. I pulled the Dark Lord's list out from a drawer and examined it thoughtfully, while the Dark Lord peered curiously around my office.

"Quite a lot of jars you've got," he commented cheerily.

"Indeed," I responded distractedly. Some of these things could be found in the Forbidden Forest, actually, but some would require further travel. Where would be the best place to start?

"I suppose most of these are for show, then? Hardly any are actually useful."

"If they were useful, then I would use them instead of leaving them up there," I replied, not paying close attention until I'd realised that perhaps I'd been a little too fresh. I looked up to find the Dark Lord staring at me, looking rather bemused. Was that good or bad?

I wasn't sure if he wanted an apology or not. The informality of not calling him "my lord" was throwing me off. The Dark Lord lived for respect, although I supposed it didn't surprise me that he lived for the suffering of others even more.

I stayed silent, and he rolled his eyes at me and turned to peruse my bookshelves instead.

"Most of my actually interesting books are in my quarters, Harry," I said, hoping to appease him. Another thing I'd learned quite quickly about the Dark Lord was that he could hold a grudge with the best of them when he wanted to.

"I suppose students have rather limited vision. It wouldn't do for them to see anything too shocking."

"You would know, considering you're one of them now," I pointed out. "That must be terrible."

"Oh Severus, you have no idea," he said dramatically, and threw himself into the chair across my desk. "I've had absolutely the longest week."

"Oh?" I asked politely. I was sure mine had been longer, but I wasn't about to argue.

"Hermione's interesting enough, and apparently she's Potter's only friend anyway, but the rest of them are so boring. And classes are a nightmare. I feel like they've gotten easier since I was in school. I swear that some of the things we're covering were covered in my fourth year, or even earlier."

"Different professors cover material in different orders," I suggested. Frankly, I thought the other professors and I had done quite a good job of tightening up Hogwarts' curriculum (with the exception of Umbridge). True, the Ministry wasn't exactly helping our efforts, cutting funding wherever they could get away with it, but we made do.

"It's absolutely dreadful. And my plans can only be progressed so quickly, so I've found myself with oodles of free time." The Dark Lord let out an over-exaggerated sigh.

"Indeed…" I said, and returned to my list. "Where do you wish to start?"

"Might as well do the Forbidden Forest tonight, and get that out of the way. The crystals you can get at this cute little shop in Knockturn, although I'm not sure if they're still in business. The chalk needs to be taken from the Isle of Wight, so that'll be a bit of a trip. There's some strong magic in that area, so we can only get so close by apparating. We'll go Sunday evening."

"Very well." There were still some other items on the list unaccounted for, but they were less location dependent. Not necessarily easier, however. "Shall we adjourn?"

"Oh!" the Dark Lord exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "I brought Potter's cloak. Did you know it's a Deathly Hallow?" He pulled the cloak in question from his bag, and the silvery material caught the light in a most unphysical way.

The list fell from my fingers. "What?" I said, completely stunned. Potter's cloak? James Potter's old cloak? A Deathly Hallow? Merlin, I had worn it once… And Potter had worn it all the time! Could that have been one of the causes of his early death? One legend I'd heard said that the Hallows brought destruction down around them. But if that were the case, then I supposed Potter's entire line would have been plagued with misery. I would have to peruse the legends further.

"Yes, it's rather fascinating, actually. Dear Harry had no idea, of course. He'd never even heard of the Hallows."

"How did you come to discover this?" I asked in amazement.

The Dark Lord fingered the cloak gently, letting the fabric run through his hands. "I could tell something was special about it. It's steeped in magic, different than the creature magic found in regular invisibility cloaks." Invisibility cloaks were usually made with either lethifold skin or demiguise hair. "Not to mention, I'm rather more acquainted with Death than most. I… recognised it, I suppose you could say. Although I didn't realise exactly what it was until I'd done some research."

"I didn't even know the Hallows were real," I admitted, staring at the cloak in wonder. The Dark Lord smiled slightly.

"Neither did I. Rather an oversight on my part, if the legends are true. 'Master of Death' has a rather nice ring to it, I think. Actually, that Luna girl is the one who turned me on to the truth. She's rather fascinated by the Hallows. She's got the symbol on a pendant she wears around her neck."

I suppose that did seem like something Miss Lovegood would do, although I had never seen any such pendant. Not that I'd been looking.

"Are you ready?" I asked, feeling very much that I wasn't ready at all. But the Dark Lord merely nodded, and swept his cloak — a Hallow — over his shoulders. I stared at the place he'd disappeared, wondering if I could genuinely sense his presence or if it was a trick of my imagination. Then the door opened, and I shoved the foolish thought away.

"Let's go," the Dark Lord said, and I followed him out the door.


The Forbidden Forest was always dark and gloomy, but at night it was pitch-black. The sounds of the forest created a rich tapestry around us, letting us know that something was there, but I couldn't even see the hand in front of my face.

"Is this really necessary?" I hissed at the Dark Lord, making sure to keep my voice down. I felt a strange rush of adrenaline brought on by fear. I was terrified of what lurked in the dark, although the knowledge that I was standing next to one of the greatest wizards of all time calmed my nerves just a bit.

"Light will scare them away, Severus. You know this," the Dark Lord replied in a hushed whisper. He'd cast some sort of spell on his eyes to help him see in the dark, but had neglected to do the same for me. Instead, I was holding onto his cloak and letting him lead me like a small child.

I didn't know why I was even here. Surely the Dark Lord could collect everything on his own? Why did he even need me?

"Ahah!" he said triumphantly, although his voice was still quiet. "Severus, to your right you will find a pile of unicorn excrement. Sift through it and find something useful, will you?" Well, that answered my question. Potent magical ingredients couldn't be collected with magic without contaminating them, and I supposed the Dark Lord felt he was above grunt work.

"I thought we were looking for erklings?" I asked in annoyance. "And how am I supposed to go through the fucking pile if I can't see anything?"

There was a moment of silence. I let go of the Dark Lord's cloak.

"I mean, yes, of course, Harry." I sank down slowly to my knees and felt something squishy.

"See, you found it," the Dark Lord said in a menacingly cheerful tone, and I could feel him lean over me even though I couldn't see it. "And unicorn magic is very good at strengthening things. Might as well take advantage of this opportunity, no?"

The Dark Lord lit a small light at the end of his wand, just enough that I could make out the shape of the pile in front of me. The light was so dim I couldn't even see any colours, but I didn't need to.

Potter's form was looming over me, and reminded me uncomfortably of James Potter during school.

It was disgusting, but it didn't take me long to find what we were looking for. A small nugget of compressed grasses, which had been steeped in magic and felt extremely potent. I'd recognised it the second my fingers had touched it.

"Very good," the Dark Lord said approvingly, and patted me condescendingly on the head. He pulled out a small bag from somewhere in his robes and held it open while I dropped the unicorn grass inside. He tucked the bag away, and waved his wand over my hands to clean them.

I clenched and unclenched them reflexively, always wary of someone casting magic on me, but I was thankful to not have to pull out my own wand with my hands such a mess.

I rose to my feet, grimacing at the stiffness in my knees. I cleaned my robes off while the Dark Lord dowsed the light, and once more everything disappeared from view.

"Isn't this exciting, Severus?" the Dark Lord whispered to me as I grabbed his cloak again.

"Perhaps," I replied neutrally, and I heard him huff.

"You're so much less fun in your old age," the Dark Lord commented, and I gaped at him.

"You're much older than me," I protested.

"Ah, but I'm young at heart," the Dark Lord responded airily. We started moving again, at the same halting pace we'd started earlier.

"Physically, yes," I pointed out, and there was no verbal response.

We crept forward in silence for a while, until the Dark Lord suddenly stopped short. His actions took me by surprise and I bumped into him.

"What is it?" I whispered.

"Listen," came the reply, and I held my breath. The only thing I could hear was the hushed sound of the Dark Lord breathing next to me. Everything was so quiet that after a moment I thought I could even hear the beating of my heart.

"The forest has gone quiet," I murmured, loathe to disturb the silence.

"Yes." The response was no louder than an exhale.

An erkling was nearby.

I shifted slightly closer to the Dark Lord, gripping his cloak tightly. Erklings were class four creatures. Very dangerous, and a pitch-black forest like this was where they were most deadly. They liked to prey on small children when they could, although the ones here in the forest likely only ever saw other creatures. I thought I had read somewhere that they loved eating acromantula, but I had no idea if that was true.

Regardless, if I had been alone, I never would have thought about confronting one of the creatures.

"It's beautiful," the Dark Lord said in a hushed, reverent tone. I tensed, and moved closer to him, until I was practically pressed against him. I couldn't see the creature in the darkness, and I felt fear creep up in the realisation that I had no way of knowing where it was.

In a way, my prayers were answered only a moment later when two glowing red eyes came into view. Trust the Dark Lord to think beautiful something so evil. I'd seen pictures, and they weren't pretty, although the pictures didn't do the single pair of eyes I saw any justice.

I heard a rustle of fabric next to me, and the eyes disappeared. I exhaled softly in relief, and the Dark Lord led me forward a few steps. I hadn't realised how close the thing had been.

"Is it dead?" I whispered.

"Yes," the Dark Lord replied simply, and knelt down to do something to the body. A moment later he stood, and we continued our quest.

We wandered through the forest somewhat aimlessly I felt, until we stumbled upon a small clearing. The break in the trees allowed the dim moonlight to fall through, and I could just make out a large rock in the middle of the clearing.

The Dark Lord lit the end of his wand and turned to inspect a bush more closely. I leaned down next to him and found small hairs caught in the briars.

"Land squid hair," he said triumphantly, and I gave the hairs an appraising look. They looked like they could have come from any short-haired creature, but when I paid attention I could sense a sort of magic coming from them. "Collect these, Severus. I'm going to see if it's still nearby." The Dark Lord disappeared into the trees, taking the light with him.

I sighed and looked around for a moment before casting a lighting charm on the large rock. It let out a dull glow that gave me enough light to see the hairs and left my hands free to collect them.

I was so concentrated on removing the tiny hairs and placing them in a bag that I didn't notice the creature sneaking up through the bush next to me until it popped out suddenly right in front of me.

"Fuck!" I shouted, jumping backwards, only to trip over something and land flat on my back. I let out a low groan, and heard giggling coming from near my feet. There was a sudden rush of movement, and I felt something climb on top of me while something else snatched my wand from my pocket.

The tiny figure on my chest laughed, and I shoved it off of me and lunged to my feet to figure out where my wand had gone. The creature — an imp, I thought — had climbed onto the large rock, and was examining my wand triumphantly.

I shoved the bag of hairs into my pocket and went to snatch my wand back only to trip over three more imps who had gathered in my distraction.

"Get out of my way," I grumbled, and shoved them aside. But by the time I got back to my feet, even more had joined the small group. They chattered and giggled and chuckled endlessly, and squirmed over each other to get a better chance of grabbing my trousers as I tried to step over them. Some of them had started climbing me, clinging to my robes and pulling others up behind them.

"I! Fucking! Hate! Imps!" I exclaimed, punctuating each word with a kick at the imps who were crowding around me.

"Good lord Severus," said a wonderfully familiar voice. "I can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?" The Dark Lord stepped into the clearing and took in the scene with amusement.

The imps were gaining some ground, and had reached my waist. There were dozens of them now. Where were they coming from?

"They took my wand," I admitted reluctantly, nodding towards the one who was sitting on the rock, twirling it in his tiny fingers. My hands were busy shoving the imps away from me, but what they lacked in strength they more than made up for in numbers.

"Need some help?" the Dark Lord asked, grinning widely.

Ugh. "Yes, Harry, I would most appreciate your help," I said stiffly, but by now the imps had reached my chest, their sharp little claws digging into my shirt. "Please, Harry," I added urgently.

The Dark Lord summoned my wand from the imp who'd taken it, who immediately started cursing at him. Then he flicked his wand casually and summoned a wind strong enough to pick up the little imps and fling them away.

Imps were naturally resistant to magic and couldn't be cast upon directly, but they weren't immune to physical effects.

I held myself still as I felt the wind tug at me, but as I was much heavier than an imp, I managed to stand my ground with no problem.

"Did you at least get the hairs?" the Dark Lord asked with a smile, stepping over to me and handing me my wand back. I kicked away the last few stragglers.

"Yes," I said, and showed him the bag.

"Most excellent," he hissed, eyeing the ingredients with a critical eye. "The power in these is immense."

The land squid was very dangerous and highly regulated. There was a good reason you couldn't just walk into an apothecary and buy land squid parts. For starters, any ingredients collected from them needed to be fresh. The land squid was highly magical, but that magic faded quickly. It was possible to make the potency last longer through the careful application of stasis charms, which is what I did under the watchful gaze of the Dark Lord, but even that would only extend their utility up to a week. More than enough for our purposes, at least.

The Dark Lord stowed the bag of hairs in his robes and turned his piercing gaze on me. We stared at each other for a moment in silent contemplation.

"Blood root," he said, and I nodded. We had plenty more work to do before the morning.


We returned to the castle a little before six, and I led us straight to my quarters so that I could stash the ingredients. I didn't particularly want to let the Dark Lord into my private space, but he followed me and I couldn't exactly tell him to go away.

"Funny, this is precisely what I would've expected from you," the Dark Lord commented, peering around my rooms in interest. He took in the overflowing bookshelves and the messy desk; the mismatched furniture and the stack of journals on the coffee table (even after my actions the previous weekend, the journals had somehow been quickly re-accumulated. I didn't even realise I read that many potions journals).

I didn't reply, and instead took the opportunity to stash the bags in the bottom drawer of my desk. The ingredients would be safe there until the Dark Lord requested them. Much safer than they'd be in Gryffindor tower, certainly, especially since there were limits to how much they could be warded before becoming contaminated.

The Dark Lord settled onto my couch and yawned widely. I felt myself yawn in response, against my will, and realised I'd been awake for almost twenty-four hours. It rather felt like I was dying.

"I'm going to bed," I informed him, and watched as the Dark Lord didn't move.

"Alright," he said mildly, and I stared at him pointedly. He rolled his eyes. "I'm tired, Severus. I'm going to rest my eyes. The Gryffindor tower is up eight flights of stairs and I simply can't be bothered with that right now." He toed his shoes off and stretched purposefully out on the couch.

"Very well," I acquiesced with a sigh. I was too tired to debate the point any further, and instead retreated to my bedroom, where I fell into bed almost immediately.

I must have fallen asleep quickly, because the next thing I knew I was being jolted awake by a loud banging.

I shot up in bed, feeling both alert and horribly groggy at the same time. Recognising the banging as someone at the door, I reluctantly dragged myself out of bed and into the sitting room.

The Dark Lord was lying on his back, one foot dangling over the edge of the couch and an arm thrown across his face.

"Please make it stop," he said groggily, shooting a glare at the door from underneath his arm.

I managed to stumble over to the door and pulled it open. Minerva was standing there, looking positively frantic. I instantly felt more alert, and moreover incredibly thankful that the angle of the door meant that she couldn't see what looked like Potter sleeping on my couch.

"What?" I asked grumpily.

"Potter's missing," she told me urgently.

Ah… Fuck.