The Dark Lord had consumed all the information Snape had given him with a greed which Snape supposed would have mirrored the way the Dark Lord had learnt about Dark Magic when he was young.

It was important that the Dark Lord understood the nature of his professed enemy. Muggles were not as helpless as many wizards and witches supposed. Muggles compensated for their lack of magic not just with bestial physicality, but with their science as well.

The Dark Lord wanted to turn their own weapons upon them – he even spoke of annihilating them with their own poison gases. But Snape, as always, was the voice of reason.

"If we destroy the Muggles, my Lord, who would produce what we need in manual labour? We cannot conjure food from air. We still need crops, livestock, and all that Muggles can provide for us in their servitude."

"You don't believe they are a pestilence on this earth?" challenged the Dark Lord.

"Perhaps, I see them more as worker bees, my Lord. A necessary evil, as it were," said Snape reasonably. "We must control them, control their numbers, but I believe annihilation would be – counter-productive."

The Dark Lord pondered on Snape's arguments. "Like sheep. Or beasts of burden."

"Exactly so, my Lord." A smile flickered briefly on Snape's lips. "Allow me to continue to infiltrate their power bases and bring it all under your command as you consolidate your control of the magical world. Without their weapons, they can pose no threat to your power."

The Dark Lord looked at Snape appraisingly. "Very well, Severus. We bide our time – for now."

~oOo~

Lists. Reports. Requisitions. He seemed to be surrounded by unwanted paperwork.

To the right of his desk were the lists of supplies he needed to countersign for the school: potion ingredient inventories, kitchen supplies, library orders, Herbology supplies, requests for new brooms, not to mention detentions and punishments to be recorded – nothing at all that interested him. To the left was an 'Eyes Only' two hundred page report from Stark in preparation for Snape's 'special' meeting with the Home Secretary, one of his prime targets. The Home Secretary's portfolio included immigration, the police force, national security and the secret service. She was pivotal to his plans. Of course, the meeting was Stark's idea: Snape had only needed the mildest form of Confundus to implant the suggestion in his mind. This report was what most interested him.

So it was with some degree of confusion that he found himself transfixed by the latest list in 'The Daily Prophet' of those summoned before the Muggle-born Registration Commission. Not by the names of his former students, like Dean Thomas or Hermione Granger or the Creevey brothers, but by one name in particular: Ted Tonks, Andromeda Black's Mudblood husband.

This was his third summons to the Ministry. Ted had evaded the Snatchers. That was hardly surprising, given what dunderheads the Snatchers were. But, somehow, he had also evaded the vengeful Fury that was his sister-in-law, Bellatrix, a witch of prodigious skill whose fanaticism for the Dark Lord's cause was fathomless and hatred for the man who had defiled her sister, boundless. It seemed to Snape that the Hufflepuff prefect Snape remembered from his early school days shouldn't have been a match for Bellatrix. Andromeda, however - she had been a witch of skill – as were all the Black sisters. As indeed was Andromeda's daughter, the former Auror with the ridiculous name. They must be protecting him.

He sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers as he remembered his first year. Lucius and Narcissa had been the Slytherin fifth form prefects, responsible for the newly-sorted first years. Andromeda was a seventh former by then and had little to do with the eleven-year-olds. But Snape remembered her. Oh yes. She was a graceful creature, like a gazelle. Soft brown eyes and light brown hair: a beauty, in fact - a society beauty whose rebellious elopement with the Muggle-born Hufflepuff the next year nearly saw the ruin of her younger sister's marriage prospects.

He remembered the scandalised whispers in the Slytherin common room in his second year. The previous year, the reputation of the Blacks had suffered egregiously when their cousin, the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, had been sorted into Gryffindor and took up with the blood-traitor, Potter. Even with the further disgrace brought on the name of Black by Andromeda, Narcissa had held her head high and demanded respect as her birthright. Even at twelve-years-old, Snape had wondered if she had ice running through her veins.

The ice of Narcissa. The fire of Bellatrix. How they had been revered. And how he had coveted that reverence, even then.

Now, within the ranks of the Death Eaters, he was revered. His cachet with the Dark Lord was greater than Bellatrix or Malfoy's now. He was the Dark Lord's most trusted servant. A smile formed slowly on his face. The more he was trusted, the more he could plan, unsuspected. And how much greater would that trust be if Snape brought the Mudblood to Dark Lord?

~oOo~

The meeting at Admiralty Arch had been a great success. Eliza Bowen, the Home Secretary, was an ambitious and driven woman. Her intellect was fierce, her manner fearsome. Snape had not met many women of her ilk in the wizarding world and it amused him to imagine her reaction to being called Madam Bowen. But aside from that, he recognised in her the desperation to succeed and rapacity for power. And she recognised in him someone who could help her achieve her ultimate goal and was open to his ideas, both stated and implanted.

As he left the building, he couldn't resist patting his breast pocket containing her business card with her personal contact number written on it and an invitation to dinner at the weekend. Yes, indeed, a great success.

A brisk walk up The Mall, past Nelson's Column and along St. Martin's Place brought him to Charing Cross Road. He would have liked to browse in the antiquarian bookshops but he had other business today. He slipped into The Leaky Cauldron, out into Diagon Alley and on to Knockturn Alley, his eyes peeled for his quarry.

Within minutes, he spotted Mundungus Fletcher and soundlessly made his way to his side. He drew his wand. "Confundus!"

Snape moved into view.

"How pleased you are to see me," he murmured, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Yeah, really pleased."

The last time Snape had seen Fletcher, he had modified his memory so he would not recall Snape asking for information about the locket Fletcher had stolen from Grimmauld Place, but he had left the vague memory that in some way Snape had been on his side. It was easy to press that advantage home.

By the end of the rather one-sided conversation, the idea that Snape could assist the escape of Ted Tonks – just as he had assisted Fletcher's escape from the Dark Lord – seemed all too obvious to Fletcher.

"So," said Fletcher, "you could 'elp 'im?"

"I believe I could – if I could just get in touch with him," said Snape. "I can be reached at Hogwarts. But be careful ... my true loyalty must remain secret."

Fletcher nodded. Snape cancelled his spell and moved into the shadows, watching Fletcher come to his senses and scuttle away. Like an insect, he thought with a sneer. But then, insects were necessary to the cycle of life, even if it was just to ensure its decomposition.

~oOo~

A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating. Work - you know how it is. Most of the remaining chapters are written now so updates should be regular.