Author's Note: Sorry about last week. I shall be posting again next Friday. Come back for more Snape-filled fun!
Chapter Fourteen
Severus Snape gripped his arm where the Dark Mark had burned just hours before. He staggered up the path to the darkened castle, relieved to find it fast asleep. Dumbledore however, was wide-awake and met him at the door.
"The Abbotts?" He inquired anxiously.
"Dead" Snape replied flatly.
"All of them?"
"All save the one in attendance here." It was not necessary to mention that the toll included two children under the age of ten. Nor would he tell Dumbledore how the parents had been forced to watch, as their two sons were tortured. He flinched at the thought of it.
Upon hearing the news, the old wizard had put his hand to his forehead and shut his eyes. Opening them, he contemplated his informer carefully. "Severus…" he started cautiously in a soft tone, before trailing off.
Snape could sense his Headmaster's thoughts. Dumbledore wondered whether Snape had actively participated in the violence or was merely a witness to it. Did it matter? Snape would not enlighten him as to the truth.
"I will be sending Harry Potter away at Christmas." Dumbledore continued. "I need not tell you why."
"Headmaster, I must express my concerns about his safety there. The Dark Lord he searches continuously for a weak point. The family is in danger."
"You are aware of the protection I put in place there-"
Snape interrupted him. "But do they understand it? They are Muggles after all. My understanding is that the other boy was away all summer. That does not sound as if she-"
Dumbledore waved his hand as if to dismiss the entire subject. "I am cognizant of your feelings on this matter." He softened his tone. "Believe me Severus, I am. However, I have taken what measures I see fit. They are as safe as anyone can be during these times."
Not entirely satisfied, Snape pulled at his greasy hair. He wanted to retreat to his chambers, but Dumbledore continued on. "Lupin tells me Potter is doing well in Occlumency."
"He is at best adequate." Snape qualified. "And I could have told you that myself."
"Perhaps," Dumbledore mused, putting the tips of his fingertips together. "But Remus has grown quite close to the boy. Harry needs someone like him in his life. It may prove vital if Voldemort does attempt to lure him into the ways of the Dark."
"And Lupin's going to know if Precious Potter is dabbling in the Dark Arts?" Snape snapped doubtfully. "As if he could even conceive of the idea."
"If you are implying that Remus only looks for the good in people, I do not happen to believe that that is a failing." Dumbledore declared firmly. Tipping his silvery head slightly, he continued. "Lupin's well trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts. He'll be able to read the signs should it become necessary."
Should it become necessary. It was perhaps Snape and Dumbledore's greatest fear that it would become necessary. That Voldemort's power over Harry would eventually lead him deep into the Dark Arts, mirroring Tom Riddle's personal history. Such a scenario would render the possibility of permanently vanquishing Lord Voldemort very remote indeed.
Snape regarded Dumbledore sourly. He wanted to protest further. To say that Lupin was much too close to Potter to be objective. He knew it would be futile. He and Dumbledore had exchanged words about Lupin on numerous occasions.
At breakfast the next morning he sat stoically as a steely raven descended in to Hannah Abbott. Expressionlessly he watched Professor Sprout usher out the distraught girl. The next few days would not be any easier for the Potions Master either. The Death Eaters were gathering at the end of the week and Snape would have to attend as the Order's spy. Voldemort's return had forced him into a dangerous occupation. Every word, every thought, every feeling had to be guarded. A slip of the tongue could prove deadly. A slight miscalculation or error in judgement could well betray everything.
He never resented the tedium of his job quite so much as he did on the morning of his gathering at Azkaban. His students seemed exceptionally dull in class, their problems particularly petty. How could Dumbledore possibly expect him to teach when this very night he would be facing the Dark Lord and many of his most treacherous supporters- attempting to deceive them all?
After he completed his classroom responsibilities, he desired only to remain in his rooms and prepare for the night's ordeal. However, his still had his duties as Potions Master to attend to. Grudgingly, he attended his solutions.
Shortly after, Remus Lupin presented himself for his Wolfsbane potion. "Good Evening Severus" He said pleasantly.
Dipping out a goblet of potion, Snape handed it to his colleague without comment.
Taking the cup, Lupin made no move to drink it or leave Snape's office.
Severus narrowed his eyes, irritated to be delayed further in his work. "You need to drink it immediately Lupin. Otherwise it may not be potent."
"Of course", came the absent reply. Lupin remained in the doorway looking as if he wanted to say something to Snape. After a lengthy pause, he commented, somewhat lamely, on Slytheran's prospects for the Quiddich Cup.
Snape had no intention of suffering through Lupin's one-sided small talk, yet there was something in the man's voice which lead Snape to question whether Lupin knew his agenda for the night and what that might entail. Severus met the man's gray eyes and detected a glimpse of something like understanding in them. He became instantly incensed. He detested the man and certainly did not need pity from the likes of Remus Lupin.
"Is there a reason you are still here?" He demanded.
Unfazed by Snape's change in tone, Lupin remained quiet.
"I am rather busy," he continued silkily. "After all, my duties for the Order extend beyond milk and cookies with Harry Potter."
Obviously put out, Lupin opened his mouth as if to counter Snape, but must have changed his mind. He drank his potion with a grimace and left wordlessly.
"Typical Lupin," thought Snape. "Fundamentally unable to speak out, unwilling to engage in conflict of any kind. He had not changed since he was sixteen. He was the one that should be pitied.
Pulling an amber vial down from a shelf, he stalked over to a simmering cauldron: The Draught of Peace. Dumbledore had requested a dose for himself. As he bent over the cauldron, to fill Dumbledore's flask, the fragrant vapors filled his nostrils. He was momentarily seized with the impulse to drink it himself. When was the last time he had spent a restful night? He could not even recall. The Draught of Peace would allow him one night unfettered by relentless retrospection and unbearable remorse. But deep down Snape knew he would never use an artificial means of quelling his personal demons. The fact that Dumbledore chose to do so did not earn him Snape's respect.
When the castle went dark and silent and even the Bloody Baron had retired for the night, he made his way out. Without lighting his wand, he moved through the darkness. At the borders of Hogwarts, Snape lingered. Clenching his fists, he concentrated on turning his mind from all outside influences. He then resolutely flashed his wand and disapparated.
He reappeared on the craggy terrain outside Azkaban prison. It was a miserable place, stormy and cold. Pulling his robes tightly around him, he hurried to the gates. Using his wand, he unbolted the gates and softly entered the building. The guards waved him on familiarly. Snape could sense dementors in the proximity, but he knew he was safe from them. He swept down a damp passage towards the lower floors where the Death Eaters kept their headquarters.
He could hear screams. Someone had foolishly failed the Dark Lord.
"My Lord," cried a desperate voice. "You don't know what he has in that forest!"
Another scream of pain.
"It is not my concern what is in the forest, McNair." Uttered an icy voice. "You will complete the task I have given you. Considerable resources have been made available to you."
"Yes, My Lord- I will not fail you", came the breathless response.
"You have done so already. I should kill you now, but the Dark Lord will afford you another opportunity to serve."
There was a high pitched shriek about the Dark Lord's benevolence. Bellatrix Lestrange, Snape concluded. A sudden chill went up his spine. He stopped short. The Dark Lord was speaking.
"Silence Bella," He uttered. "One of your brothers draws near."
Severus shuddered as he always did when he heard Voldemort refer to him.
"Come in Severus. We've been waiting for you. Don't hide in the shadows."
The spy pulled his hood tighter despite the fact that Voldemort had already addressed him by name. Striding into the chamber, Snape quickly surveyed the scene. Lord Voldemort was sitting in the center of the room with Bellatrix Lestrange unmasked on his right. Another Death Eater, probably McNair, was on his knees in front of them. Scanning the rest of the room, he noted about half a dozen Death Eaters with hoods and masks.
Upon seeing Snape, McNair scrambled to his feet and attempted to blend into a group of black figures on his left.
"You are late." Voldemort accused his tone cold.
"I was detained," Snape muttered. "I had to brew the werewolf's potion." He added with scorn.
Soft laughter rose from the other Death Eaters.
"What news do you bring us from the Muggle-lover's kingdom?"
Snape could feel the Dark Lord's mind reaching into his own. He attempted to shut himself off, only allowing negative thoughts about Dumbledore to surface. "He knows of your intentions to get your physical form back."
"Hardly a difficult connection to make, Snape. You must have more than that."
Although he nodded casually, Snape's heart raced. The Dark Lord would be requiring more information than he felt comfortable supplying. He continued to keep his mind tightly shut while inside he cast about wildly for some innocuous information he could offer.
"You are supposed to be determining the nature of the protection that has been set up for the Potter boy in Little Whining." Voldemort declared leaning in towards Snape, a threat apparent in his tone.
"All my attempts to discover this have been futile." Snape lied evenly. "The fool who employs me confides in no one."
"I know of his arrogance!" Voldemort spat, his hatred of Dumbledore clear in every syllable. "Still I find it rather difficult to believe that he has not given you any information in the sixteen years you've been supposedly seeking it!"
Snape's head pounded as Voldemort tried harder to force his way into his consciousness. He had to struggle to retain his focus. All too well he knew what happened to those who lied to the Dark Lord.
Bellatrix suddenly leapt from her chair. "Crucio!" She whispered.
Snape crumpled to the floor clutching his chest. The pain was so severe he thought it might burst. "I don't know how it works, I swear!" He gasped. "All I know is that it would be extremely dangerous to attempt to harm him there." Even in the midst of excruciating pain, Snape had to keep his mind closed and focus on the lie. To does anything else would be disastrous.
"Tell us the truth Snape!" She demanded. "You can not lie to the Lord, our master."
Snape could see nothing but her hooded eyes looming above him like a cobra. He must not tell her anything.
Next Voldemort himself leaned over Snape, staring into his eyes-revolting him. Severus was terrified that his falsehood would be detected, but the Dark Lord muttered the counter curse and the pain subsided immediately.
"He's not lying Bella!" Voldemort said turning to her. "I have formed him myself. His parents-two of my greatest servants."
Voldemort rose, offering a bony hand to Snape who took it in spite of his aversion. He was still on guard and would likely have to remain so until Voldemort was finally vanquished.
"You exceed your authority." Voldemort hissed reproachfully to Bellatrix Lestrange.
She appeared crestfallen and retreated to her high-backed seat.
"Dumbledore trusts me, but not implicitly." Snape uttered as an excuse. "He still refuses me the Defense Against the Dark Arts post."
"An insufferable fool he remains," Voldemort mused. "Yet he is not stupid. He can easily conclude where that would lead."
Snape smiled malevolently, catching the attention of Bellatrix Lestrange.
"You've already turned him to the path of the Dark!" She exclaimed breathlessly.
"Yes Severus", Voldemort noted. "Your introduction to the Dark Arts has been very successful indeed. It may not be necessary to attack Privet Drive after all"
Ignorant of what they were referring to, Snape deemed it best to remain silent.
"Imagine how surprised we were," the familiar voice of Lucius Malfoy rang out from behind a mask. "When Bellatrix informed us that young Potter attempted to Crucio her in the Department of Mysteries."
"The night was not a total loss, after all." Voldemort breathed.
Suddenly the room erupted with murmurs from all sides.
Snape felt as if he had been doused with ice water. He was appalled to hear of the incident. Dumbledore must not have known of it either. Caught off guard, he feared the Dark Lord would be able to determine that he had not been teaching the Dark Arts.
"It wasn't effective of, course." Bellatrix continued. "But that he even attempted it spoke volumes."
Silently Snape had to agree with Bellatrix. Such an act demonstrated a dangerously disturbing side to Harry Potter. Could his and Dumbledore's fears be coming to fruition?
"Who would have thought it?" Bellatrix mocked. "Dumbledore's little baby Potter using an Unforgivable Curse!"
Lord Voldemort laughed with evil delight. "Before we adjourn, I have formulated some powerful new spells. Wormtail, pass out the scrolls."
Peter Pettigrew began to pass scrolls out to those in attendence. Many opened theirs immediately, but Snape did not. He eyed Pettigrew with great scorn, as did most in the chamber.
"These curses are quite powerful and will be excellent for intimidation purposes. McNair, I expect you to begin using them immediately." Voldemort surveyed the group disinterestedly. "I shall be summoning some of you this week. Be prepared." He disappeared.
The meeting began to break up. Snape was desperate to get back to Hogwarts and confirm Bellatrix's story. If it were true, he would need to inform Dumbledore immediately. He was edging his way out when an unfamiliar Death Eater stopped him.
"I hear Potter's going back to Little Whinging at Christmas." The willowy woman remarked.
"If that's true, I haven't heard a word of it." Snape lied warily. Who was this woman?
"Is that so?" She obviously did not believe him.
"It would be a perfect opportunity." Snape continued. "If only I can get Dumbledore to talk."
"I think we'll be getting some information quite soon. You're not the only person at school who has access to information."
Snape was getting nervous. "And how do you know so much about the school?" He queried coolly.
"You don't honestly think you're the only person the Dark Lord has keeping an ear out at Hogwarts, do you? Especially when you continually fail to bring him the information he so desperately desires."
Detecting a veiled threat, Snape felt a cold dread in the pit of his stomach. Did the Dark Lord doubt his loyalty? It felt as if everything was closing in on him, but he could not allow himself to lose control. He could sense that the woman's mind was peripherally closed, but her defenses were weak. It would be a simple matter to break into her mind, but he would be unable to do so without her detecting it. That would surely blow his cover. He could not risk it.
As desperate as he was to leave, Snape knew he must attempt to gain more information. Prying further, he found to his dismay, that she knew a fair amount about both the school and Harry Potter.
"Who are you?" He finally demanded in frustration, certain he would not receive a response.
There was a moment of tense silence until the woman finally answered "Claudia".
Severus dropped his wand in shock. He would ask no more questions. Snatching it up off the floor, he swept out of the room, telling anyone who would listen that Dumbledore was summoning him back to the castle.