No Moment of Charm Born on Bare Soil

by Pseudoavatar

An innocent Valentine's Day Potions assignment leads to a string of events which nobody could have predicted. Months later, the familiar safety of the Potions classroom is long gone, and everyone must choose where their loyalties lie. Even those most intent not to. S/L, eventually AU.

21. Sources of information

I was a victim of a series of accidents, as are we all.

- Kurt Vonnegut

""

Like Lily's, also Severus's Friday morning had started with an owl knocking behind his covered kitchen window, the day's Daily Prophet in its claws.

The morning had dawned as pale and nasty as any other September morning that year, and after sourly peeking through the kitchen's curtains while he cracked the window to let the owl in, Severus had decided that this day, like every other, would undoubtedly be a miserable, deep dark pit of utter failure. The morning's Daily Prophet and its screaming headline didn't lighten his mood at all, although he had known to expect it, having checked the paper every morning of the week and waited.

He had read the parts of the article where the Ministry was tarred with interest, assuming that the Dark Lord now intended to take over the Ministry once and for all, using the deaths of Horton and Morland to rise alarm and to sow distrust. He had to admire the strategy; after all, there had been a lot of rumours about sudden deaths and disappearances for months, but when the papers hadn't published any stories, the public had slowly lulled themselves into believing that perhaps nothing was going on after all; that the stories of last spring and winter were a thing of the past, that the persons responsible were already locked up. The suggestion that the Ministry had tried to cover up last weekend's murders of course made everybody wonder whether they had been just kept in the dark for the last six months. The Dark Lord didn't need to take over the Ministry by violence - the people would be demanding for a new Minister. Severus approved of this method wholeheartedly; all in all, it was both a clever and humane way to seize control. If all went without a hitch, the secrecy clause could be abolished in as little as a year and the Dark Lord's men would be in control of every Department of the Ministry.

Severus was almost tempted to tell the Dark Lord about his part in this stroke of luck, but then remembered he could hardly give a believable explanation for why he had attacked two of his fellow Death Eaters, at least not without bringing unnecessary attention to his unorthodox interest in a Muggleborn woman, which he was certain would cause his fellow pureblood Death Eaters to whisper and question his loyalties. Besides, he wasn't entirely certain what the Dark Lord himself would think of his feelings towards her. Something inside warned him about ever revealing his deep affection for her to the Dark Lord, even though he had seemed to find Morland's superstitious beliefs just as ridiculous as Severus had. And what if the Dark Lord would kill him to make an example out of him, a warning of what happened if somebody turned against their own? No, it was best to keep silent about his part in this lucky accident.

But Severus himself had nothing to fear in regards to being linked to Morland and Horton's deaths, he was certain of it. The alley had been completely deserted, it had been dark, and he had been fully covered. Apart from Lily, nobody would ever know. And perhaps, as he grudgingly had to admit, Potter - if she had told him despite having insisted in her letter that she had told no one. Hate towards Potter flamed up inside him again at the mere thought of him.

But then again, thick as Potter undoubtedly was, it was nevertheless a stretch to believe he was so thick he had failed to notice his girlfriend staying out until early morning and then showing up wearing a different set of clothes and behaving strangely. Severus knew he himself would have been absolutely livid had it been him waiting for Lily at home – not least because he would assume she had dropped dead in some ditch if she unexpectedly failed to show up at a normal hour. No, Lily had certainly needed to tell Potter something.

For a few moments Severus wondered if Potter would stoop so low as to go and turn him in if he indeed knew what he had done. But Potter certainly didn't need the gold, and since Severus had only killed Morland and Horton in order to rescue Lily, he assumed Potter would be at least grateful for getting her girlfriend back alive and in one piece. Not that it meant much – perhaps Potter would turn him in just for the kicks, being the nasty brat that he was. Black certainly would. Maybe he should write Lily another letter, just to double-check she hadn't told anyone, Severus thought as he chucked a handful of Floo powder into the sitting room's fireplace.

Severus was in a foul mood as he made his way to work. Running into Rookwood in the lifts and having to listen to his jolly drivelling only served to remind him how unusually challenging and frustrating his own work was in comparison to the other employees of the Department of Mysteries, and he still couldn't wrap his head around the man being a Death Eater. Not only was the man irritatingly talkative and social, he was also a lousy manager, who spent most of his hours popping in and out of other people's offices and gossiping (which Severus grudgingly had to admit might be useful for the Dark Lord, though he had a hard time imagining Rookwood with his wide smirks in a room together with the Dark Lord), and he seemed to pay no attention to anything that happened in his department. After months of working under him, Severus had better started to understand Lydia Roebuck's grudge towards Rookwood; she would have made a much more efficient manager than he did, and Severus could only assume he had gotten the promotion they had both been after simply because of his allegiance with the Dark Lord. The realisation bothered him a little, since he had gotten used to thinking that the Dark Lord only chose the very best to his service, and Rookwood didn't embody any of the virtues nor vices Severus admired. In many ways, Lydia would have made a much better Death Eater than Rookwood did.

Severus's bad mood didn't shift all morning. He was sick of the arch. He was sick of the stale, cold, unmoving air in the chamber, and he was sick of the whispers and the constant frustration his work caused him. Severus wasn't the type of a person who was used to not being able to figure out something, and his frustration led him to have bouts of self-doubt about his intelligence as he continued to dumbly stare at the runes scribbled to the arch's side (a mortifying feeling; he couldn't remember a time in his life when he had ever doubted his intelligence). Resisting the pull of the arch and trying not to listen to the whispers behind the damn veil made his head hurt and it took every ounce of his self-control to not start hurling books at the arch in his frustration. How long would this continue? For how long did he have to spend time here, locked into this room and staring at a crumbling piece of stone? You know how long, a nasty voice said at the back of his mind. Till the end of the year. And that's all the time you're ever going to get. He threw the book he's been inspecting back into the pile of books he's already read and grabbed another one, trying to push the nasty voice to the back of his head.

Severus... the voice softly whispered beyond the veil, calling for him, and he tried his best to ignore it, to clear his mind from all thought and emotions as he peered at the thin, yellowing pages of Ancient Philology of Britannica. His concentration was slipping and he realised he had started the same sentence over and over again without understanding it. Ten weeks to live...

The veil just kept on fluttering, its rustling mixing in with the whispers calling his name. The lack of sleep made it harder to shut his mind. Finally, after a particularly loud and insistent whisper, Severus lost it.

"Shut up! Just shut up!" He yelled in vain at the fluttering veil, his voice echoing on the stone walls of the empty pit as he scrambled up and away from the arch. "Leave me alone!"

He could have sworn he heard a sad sigh in return, and kicked the pile of books in anger as he hurried out of the chamber for a very early lunch.

The language on the arch didn't exist. Severus was certain it didn't. The glorious library of the Ministry had failed him, or the language simply didn't exist. He chose to believe the latter, and spent his lunch in an empty café in Diagon Alley (lunch hour hadn't even started yet), trying not to mind the splitting headache as he apathetically toyed with a piece of carrot on his plate and imagined hearing the seconds pass him by, the precious seconds which would run out in a matter of weeks as far as he was concerned. He wished he didn't need to return to the chamber ever again.

Sometimes he wondered if his Occlumency was good enough to fool the Dark Lord; it had certainly gotten much better since he had started working at the Department of Mysteries. Shutting his mind was the only way he could resist the constant, magnetic pull of the veil for eight to ten hours a day, but was it good enough to plant a believable false memory? Would it be possible to get away with such deception against the Dark Lord, one of the most accomplished Legilimens of the century? If he only dared to take the risk, he could just pretend he had cracked the arch's mystery. Perhaps the Dark Lord would be disappointed when his false information would not be of use to him, but still spare his life... not that Severus was entirely certain what it was that the Dark Lord hoped him to discover, anyway. Then he felt a sting of anxiety as he imagined the Dark Lord finding out about his treacherous thoughts, and couldn't help but glance paranoidly around himself in the half-empty café where only a single goblin sat at a corner table and gorged on something that looked like a boiled rat on a bed of lettuce.

To get rid of his splitting headache, Severus decided to pop by the Ministry's infirmary on his way back to the Department of Mysteries and ask for some potion. The infirmary was located in the basement near the courtrooms, and it was more like a combination of an infirmary, an apothecary, and a nurse's office. The ceilings were high here, as high as in the court rooms, and most of the walls were covered in shelves upon which thousands and thousands of potion flasks glimmered in the light of the torches. The young bob-haired witch at the reception next to the doors sighed as she saw him enter.

"You again?" She asked and tutted, throwing the Daily Prophet she had been reading on the desk and crossing her arms before he had as much as opened his mouth. The Aurors were covering Morland and Horton's bodies in sheets in the photograph on the front page of the paper. "You're not developing an addiction to Cottonbrain Potion, are you?"

Severus eyed her sullenly. "If I was, I'd be at home drinking it to my heart's content instead of at here, talking with you."

The witch gave him a sour look, which Severus returned. He didn't much care for her; she had made him fill out a nasty and intrusive survey regarding his health and family history on his first week of work. But then the witch took out a quill and a pink piece of parchment from the pile next to her, and sighed. Severus tapped his fingers against the counter and waited.

"Right. Date... name of patient... Severus Snape," the bob-haired witch muttered as she wrote. "Prescription... Cottonbrain Potion... cause of visit... let me guess? Headache again?"

"I'm astonished by your excellent guess. Since that's what Cottonbrain Potion is used for."

The witch duplicated the pink slip she had scribbled on and then handed one copy to him, and pretended she hadn't heard him.

"You know where to get it," she said, filing the original copy of the pink slip away into a leather folder which she placed upon the bookshelf behind her.

"Thank you," Severus said surly and went to the medicine counter, deciding to brew himself a cauldronful of the stuff this weekend to avoid further visits to the infirmary.

After receiving and taking a hefty dose of Cottonbrain Potion, Severus felt a little better. The potion worked almost instantaneously; he could almost feel it travelling in his bloodstream and through his brain, shutting down pain receptors in its wake and leaving his head a little fuzzy. One reason why Severus liked this particular potion was that it also relaxed him nicely. Developing an addiction to it didn't sound half as bad now that he thought about it; the buzz was a welcome change to the constant state of alertness he had been in since the early weeks of June. Now calm, he decided to give himself a break from the arch and go to the Shells instead.

In a morbid way, the Shells both fascinated and repulsed him. It was normal to feel uncomfortable around them, as they were against nature in every way, and yet they were oddly calming. They laid on metallic hospital beds in room 2, their eyes empty but their chests rising and falling in tune with their slow breathing. There were sixteen of them, some younger and some older, but Severus recognised only one of them, a man who had murdered his entire family in a fit of insanity some five years earlier; his picture had been all over the newspapers at that time. His hair was now long and dirty, and he laid on a bed between two other men, as harmless as any of the others around him.

Apart from the occasional twitch, sigh or dilation of pupils, the Shells were pretty much vegetables. An old healer came in from the infirmary to feed them a couple of times a day and for the occasional bathing, but otherwise the room was almost always empty and peaceful. Except for when they did experiments. Sometimes Severus was required to participate, though he found the Shells twice as repulsive during the experiments. The experiments usually consisted of shoving a separated soul (kept in room 3) into a foreign Shell and watching the newly born being try to come to grips with its horrid existence. Usually they had to be separated after only a few hours because of the being's erratic and unpredictable behaviour. Sometimes they begged for death; he loathed those the most.

But today the room was empty, and Severus sat on a chair at the end of the room and stared at the bodies. Their silent breathing and thoughtless existence was calming, which was the reason why he came here. He felt himself relaxing even further, the Cottonbrain Potion working its magic in his brain. It was strange how this room, while technically full of people, had such a calming effect on him, while the empty chamber containing nothing but the arch caused such havoc on his mind and sanity. But then again, they weren't really people, were they, Severus languidly thought as he eyes the blank brown eyes of a woman lying on a bed next to him; she occasionally clenched her hand into a tight fist and ground her teeth. There was nothing but nerve impulses left in them, nothing human inside their head. She was essentially dead, apart from her body, which kept on living and reacting to some basic stimuli, such as pain. Or was there something else, too? What did it feel like, to lose one's soul?

Impulsively, Severus tried Legilimency on the woman. He immediately pulled back out. There had been nothing; just the lamp hanging above the woman, and his own face at the corner of her eye, but no understanding of anything her eyes took in. No emotions or feelings to decipher, no usual jumble of stimuli and memories; just a dull, cold, empty mirror of the room around her. Being inside her head had felt rather like sinking one's face into cold snow and expecting to see the stars. And the worst part of it was that it had almost felt like the body was so eager for a soul that he had felt a strange suctioning feeling, like the body had wanted to consume his very mind into itself.

Severus got up, the instinctual revulsion winning over his desire for peace. Choosing the calls of the arch over the off-putting Shells, he made his way back to the chamber and keeled in his usual spot by the arch's side. But before he had grabbed the topmost book from the pile he had kicked aside in his earlier bout of anger, the Dark Mark on his arm started burning, and he clasped it, stumbling up again.

What did the Dark Lord want now? This was the third time within a week Severus had been summoned; a big change to the usual once-a-month reports and occasional Death Eater meetings. And it was weekday, a work day. He had never been called at such a time before. Having a very ominous feeling, Severus rushed out of the chamber and then out of the Department of Mysteries, towards the corridors where he could Disapparate. He no longer felt relaxed. After the Dark Lord had suggested his life was soon coming to an end, Severus was no longer quite so certain that the Dark Lord cared about or appreciated him. After making it to an empty corridor, he let the Dark Mark pull him to the Dark Lord's side.

This time he didn't find himself from the dining room of the Lestrange mansion, as he had come to expect. Instead, a sight of the familiar drawing room of the Malfoy mansion greeted him. He turned around, and then took a startled step back, having suddenly realised he had Apparated much closer to the Dark Lord than he would have liked; his pale, disfigured face stared at him from just three feet away. He was sitting in a green velvet-covered armchair by the unlit fireplace, and Lucius Malfoy stood next to him, pulling down the left sleeve of his his black velvet robes.

"That will be all for now, Lucius," the Dark Lord said. "Take care of our prisoner. And come back after I have had my talk with Severus."

"Of course, my Lord," Lucius said, bowing and already backing away from him. "Thank you."

Lucius gave Severus a hasty nod and left the room in much longer strides than was typical of him. Severus turned towards the Dark Lord and he bowed too, using the opportunity to push the memories of last weekend's massacre to the furthest corner of his mind. As he straightened himself, he assumed the blank look which he always tried to keep on his face at the presence of his master. The Dark Lord looked somehow even more frightening in this setting, and Severus came to think he had never before seen him in natural light (unlike at the Lestrange mansion's shadowy dining room, the curtains were open here) and the pale sunlight which fell on the Dark Lord's face made him look practically corpse-like. The little veins on his face were more visible, and he looked unnatural, ghastly, like something that had been dead for days. Though not usually one to mind somebody's looks, Severus realised that he felt repulsed by him.

To his surprise, the Dark Lord stood up and gave him a very calculating look which filled Severus's mind with alarm. He approached Severus slowly, his red eyes gleaming strangely, and Severus's heart started beating quicker. The Dark Lord had never looked at him like that before.

"Have you read today's Daily Prophet, Severus?" The Dark Lord asked, coming to a halt very close to Severus.

"Yes, my Lord," Severus said quickly. "It was very wise, to use the killings to force the Minister to resign. The whole Ministry will soon be in your hands."

The Dark Lord just stared at him, and Severus fell silent. He swallowed, and the Dark Lord's eyes flickered to his throat.

"I made the most of the situation," the Dark Lord finally said. "However... the murders alarm me."

Severus still said nothing, nervously waiting for the Dark Lord to continue. But he turned away from Severus and walked past him, slowly, until he came to stand somewhere behind Severus. He felt the hairs at the back of his neck rising, feeling like he was being stalked by a snake. He forced himself to remain rigid, kept his emotions in control. He was filled with ominous foreboding.

"Do you know why the murders alarm me?" the Dark Lord asked, and Severus felt his breath in his hair. He fought against a repulsion which was even worse than in the room with the Shells; he realised there was something unnatural about the Dark Lord, just as there had been about the Shells.

"No, my Lord," Severus said.

"They alarm me, because they were committed by someone adept at Dark Magic. Someone who is not afraid to send me a message," the Dark Lord said, and was then silent, as though expecting Severus to comment; he knew better, and kept his mouth shut.

"...Someone who is not afraid to slay my followers," the Dark Lord continued. Severus could feel the Dark Lord moving behind him again. "In other words... someone who is not afraid to challenge me."

The Dark Lord circled back around Severus, fixing his red glare into Severus again. Severus swallowed again.

"My Lord," Severus said. "Perhaps that was not the motive for the killings. Perhaps they just got into an argument, or a fight... they had plenty to drink at the celebration on Sunday evening before leaving..."

"They were killed in a manner that only a person with thorough knowledge and skill in the Dark Arts would have chosen. They were killed using a spell I myself am not familiar with," the Dark Lord said coldly. "And that... that is what interests me. No, it was a message to me, Severus. There is no doubt about it. A challenge, to me! To the greatest Dark Wizard of all time. A challenge, a message, a threat... to Lord Voldemort."

He eyed Severus with that same calculating look in his eyes. Severus forced himself to stare back at him.

"Do you know why I have called you here, Severus?" He then asked, in a dangerous voice. "Do you know why I wanted you to pause your valuable work at the Ministry, and come here to see me?"

Severus stared into his red eyes and pushed his memory deeper. I went home after the celebration. I read Ancient Philology of Britannica. I went to bed.

"No, my Lord," he said softly, afraid the Dark Lord would hear his nervously beating heart through the bone and the skin and the air between them.

The Dark Lord smiled.

"Because, Severus, I know who is the person responsible for the deaths of Mulciber and Avery."

Severus felt his heart stop in his chest and he couldn't help the slight twitch of his wand arm that itched to pull the wand out. If the Dark Lord noticed this, he didn't let it on, as he just continued to stare at Severus, his eyes gleaming dangerously, calculatingly. Then, without a warning, he was in Severus's head.

Severus desperately pushed his false memory out to his view, imagining the rustling, yellowing pages of Ancient Philology of Britannica, and the grandfather clock under the stairs which said ten o'clock, and the grey sheets of his bed as he pulled the covers aside. The Dark Lord pushed through the false memory of his Saturday night in a cold, uncaring manner, and Severus was confused for a moment as he realised the Dark Lord was searching for something else.

And then, without a warning, there was Lily. Her loathing sixteen-year-old face as she turned away from him at the Gryffindor portrait hole, her letting Grover Vass sneak his hand under her top in a corner table in a café in Hogsmeade, her lips pressing against James Potter's lips. Her eyes gleaming amber in the flickering candlelight of the corner nook of Slughorn's party as she kissed his lips.

Severus's emotions fluctuated violently with jealousy, sadness, desire and happiness as the Dark Lord inspected the same memories he had seen once already, all those months ago, but unlike last time when he had moved through them like they didn't matter, this time he paid attention to them and carefully examined every memory he pulled out like they were a story he was trying to piece together. And as he still bore deeper, Severus finally got over his surprise and had the mind to try and shut away the rest of his memories about her.

The Dark Lord was busy examining a memory of a fourteen-year-old Lily climbing up a tree by the river and the accidental glimpse of the thin cotton knickers her short Muggle skirt had revealed to Severus, and so he seemed to fail to notice how the rest of his memories of her slipped away. After Severus had relived the powerful rush of raw teenage desire the memory had reignited inside him, the Dark Lord moved on to try and find other memories of her, but to no avail. He groped around Severus's mind coldly, finding only a few inconsequential snippets of memories – Petunia's horse-like sour face as she sat on a sofa in the Evans's sitting room, a glimpse of one of Severus's sexual fantasies of Lily, the faded name 'Evans' in the post box in front of her childhood home, a flash of her bare, wet legs as she rose from the muddy water of the river where she had paddled. Finally the Dark Lord pulled back from his head, leaving behind a dull, aching pain that throbbed even through the Cottonbrain Potion's effects, and Severus had to grasp the backrest of an armchair to steady himself.

"This Mudblood," the Dark Lord said and turned away from Severus. "You had a sexual relationship with her."

It wasn't a question, and Severus made a vague sound in his throat that sounded more like a gasp than anything resembling agreement or disagreement. But the Dark Lord didn't seem to listen, having interpreted the memories he had seen in his own way. He walked over to the green armchair by the fireplace and sat down, stroking his lip contemplatively with one long, pale finger. Severus straightened himself and tried not to mind the weak, violated feeling the Dark Lord's examination had left behind. Somehow it had felt worse now that he had tried – and succeeded, he realised with a rush of relief – to hide things from him, and his mind was fuzzy, like it was trying very hard to come back to focus. Then he realised what it meant that the Dark Lord had looked at her, and his mind cleared in an instant.

"I recognised her immediately," the Dark Lord said quietly, like he was talking to himself, as he stared at the black pile of ash in the dark fireplace. "I never forget a face. Lily Evans."

Severus was alarmed when the Dark Lord suddenly laughed a joyless, creepy laugh that made him shudder, and turned his scarlet gaze upon him.

"To imagine that a Mudblood would challenge me," the Dark Lord said, his face stretched into a smile that made his skull prominent through the skin. "The gall!"

"She? Challenge you, my Lord?" Severus repeated weakly.

"Indeed, Severus," the Dark Lord said. "In this house there is a man currently kept prisoner, who has been a great source of information for me. He has told and shown me a great many things. He was after the bounty promised in the Daily Prophet, of course -" he waved his hand lazily "- but he has turned out to be very useful for me. It just so happens that this man saw this sweet little Mudblood of yours – now Severus, do not take offence at my choice of words, I know your relationship with her is merely a folly of the past – killing my two Death Eaters."

Severus stared at the Dark Lord.

"But she... I do not believe her capable of such a thing," Severus finally said and licked his dry lips. He was thinking very quickly. "As my Lord said himself, she is just a... Mudblood, and a Gryffindor at that. While I confess to never having gotten to know her more intimately than was, ah, required, she never showed the slightest inclination or interest for the Dark Arts. She was just a foolish young girl, interested only in her looks and stale gossip. Your source of information must be mistaken, my Lord."

"My source of information is not mistaken," the Dark Lord said and his voice was suddenly very cold and metallic. "I have looked into his mind most thoroughly. He has kept no secrets from me. It was she I saw in his mind, Lily Evans - and the murders of my two soldiers."

Severus remained silent, his heart beating painfully hard in his chest. He should have gone to deal with Morland and Horton himself, it had been a mistake to let her go, a foolish, stupid fucking mistake, and now everything was hanging by a thread...

"Now, Severus," the Dark Lord said. "Are you able to fill in the gaps which my source was unable to fill? Can you tell me where the object of our interest is?"

Severus bowed his head. "My Lord, I regret to have no knowledge of her whereabouts. As you must be aware, I have had no contact with her in years."

"I'm aware, Severus," the Dark Lord said impatiently. "But there are other ways to reach her. Certainly you must know where her parents live, seeing as you have spent time with her outside of Hogwarts?"

Severus sighed in relief but tried to masquerade it as a sigh of frustration. "I wish I could, my Lord. In my youth, her family used to live near myself – but I'm afraid they no longer live there. I have no knowledge of the whereabouts of either her parents or her horrid Muggle sister. The house is now inhabited by some Muggles - complete strangers to both her and her family."

"That is very disappointing," the Dark Lord said. "It is your luck, Severus, that I have my reasons to be fond of you. If my other Death Eaters had failed with my tasks as consistently as you have, I would have dealt with their failures long ago."

"My Lord..." Severus said, but was silenced by the Dark Lord's gesture.

"Silence, Severus. Luckily for you my source of information has also been useful in other ways, having led me to information which will help me to be able to capture Lily Evans this very night."

Severus felt like somebody had poured freezing water over his head, and he suddenly felt weak again.

"My Lord?" he forced himself to say. "I'm relieved to hear that. May I... may I ask what information is this?"

"My source of information tells me that the old fool Albus Dumbledore has been building up some sort of a pitiful army of renegades," the Dark Lord said and smiled nastily. "Young fools, mostly, but there are some Aurors involved, too. The Order of the Phoenix, he calls it. Apparently the delusional old man thinks he can stop me with a bumbling band of bloodtraitors and Mudbloods fresh out of school. However, my source of information has helpfully informed me that the girl may be snatched from the group's headquarters a little before their next meeting. Of course, it would have been more convenient to get her through her parents... I would hate to think of losing further soldiers to Aurors."

"I volunteer myself for the mission," Severus said immediately, cursing Lily in his mind. Of course she had gone and joined some foolish resistance group and put herself in danger's way. "I volunteer to be there to bring her to you, my Lord."

The Dark Lord leaned towards him in his chair and he quickly cleared his mind again.

"You already have a mission, Severus," the Dark Lord said coldly. "Or have you forgotten already?"

"No, my Lord, of course not..." Severus said quickly. "I just thought... since she knows me, I might be of use..."

"But as you said yourself, you no longer know her," the Dark Lord said, and though it was hard to tell from his gleaming eyes and skullish features, to Severus it looked like he was amused. "Do not let your lust blind you, Severus. Yes, do not try to lie to Lord Voldemort, because I have seen -" for Severus had made a disagreeing noise in his throat "- I have seen in your mind that you still desire her, and because of your blinding lust it would be unwise for me to let you go to her. Of course, I allow my Death Eaters to have their little fun with Mudbloods if they so wish, but my intention is to firstly try and recruit her to my side, as it would be a waste to spill such talented blood, no matter what her shameful background may be. The spells she used to kill my Death Eaters prove that she is neither as innocent nor as loyal to Dumbledore as everyone, including yourself, seem to take her for, and thus she should be willing to join me when she realises how much she may gain if she joins, and how much she will lose should she not. No, I will not let my Death Eaters play with her." For a moment the Dark Lord was silent and looked contemplative, tracing his lip with his finger again. "Of course, should she refuse to join me... I might let you keep her for a while before killing her. As a reward, if you succeed at your current task."

Severus stared at the Dark Lord. It slowly dawned to him that apparently the Dark Lord thought his intentions for Lily were of the sordid kind; that he thought Severus perhaps wanted to do to her what Morland and Horton had intended to do. Severus was repulsed by the idea, and especially the allusion that this was something that the Dark Lord approved of, something which had actually happened with his knowledge and approval, and which he would allow to happen again. He forced himself to smile.

"Thank you, my Lord," he said. "I apologise for not being of more help to you. However, if I might -"

"Do not fear, Severus, you will have the time to participate in other missions," the Dark Lord said impatiently. "At least, should you not fail me."

Severus bowed, realising he was being dismissed.

"Now, bring Lucius to me," the Dark Lord said.

Severus nodded and backed away from the drawing room, his head spinning. How could Lily have let herself be seen that night? Why hadn't she told him somebody had seen her? And why, why hadn't he asked? And why had he even let her go back to that alley when she clearly hadn't been thinking straight? He cursed both himself and Lily; he should have kept his head together and not become like wax at her hands at the slightest suggestion that she had wanted to help him, that she maybe still had cared for his well-being... and now the Dark Lord was after her, thinking she was some powerful Dark witch! The idea would have been laughable had it not been so terrifying.

Severus didn't need to look far for Lucius, because he was waiting in the corridor near the doors, and Severus could guess that as opposed to Bellatrix Lestrange who usually lingered behind closed doors to eavesdrop and because she couldn't wait a second to see her precious master, Lucius had remained behind out of fear that the Dark Lord would be displeased if he was being kept waiting.

"He expects you," Severus said.

"Thank you, Severus," Lucius said as he hurried towards Severus, and before passing him, leaned closer to him to whisper. "Do stay for tea, will you? He will be gone soon."

"I will, thank you", Severus said, realising that the only person from whom he could fish out the information he needed was Lucius.

Lucius didn't remain in the room with the Dark Lord for long. After barely five minutes, he swept out of the room – which Severus now saw was empty – looking tremendously relieved.

"Ah, excellent, you're still here," Lucius said as he saw Severus loitering in the corridor near the place where he himself had waited not too long ago. "Forgive my earlier lack of manners, old friend. The sudden appearance of our master is always somewhat disorientating."

He now came to shake Severus's hand, then wrapped an arm around his shoulder as he led him towards the dining room, passing by a house elf who was wearing a dirty pillowcase and dusting an expensive-looking vase.

"Dobby – bring us tea, to the blue parlour. For two. I'm afraid my wife isn't here", Lucius said to Severus as the house elf scuttled away. "She had to, uh, run some errands. You know how it is, with such a large estate as ours."

"Of course," Severus said, glancing at the house elf and thinking it very unlikely Narcissa Malfoy ever ran any errands for their extensive estate. Most likely she had simply fled the manor after the Dark Lord's sudden appearance.

Lucius led them to a blue-hued parlour dominated by a table with six chairs by the window, a china cabinet displaying an extensive old collection of cups and vases, and a blue silk-covered divan by the fireplace; there was a large yellow rug with golden embroidery under it, and the contrast of blue and yellow made the room look perkier than any other room Severus had so far seen in the mansion.

"Narcissa redecorated the room," Lucius said, perhaps noticing him eyeing around himself. "We had to move my great-aunt Marnella's portrait to the foyer, she didn't approve of the colour scheme - kept complaining that the brightness made her cataract worse." And he pointed at an empty wall where Severus could see the faded mark left behind by a removed painting.

The same house elf they had seen in the hallway entered, carrying a large tray which he set on the table.

"Dobby, after you've served the tea, go and set back the spells preventing Apparation and Disapparation in the drawing room," Lucius said as he took a seat and gestured at Severus to sit to the opposite side of the table. The elf bowed.

"So I heard you have an exciting mission ahead," Severus said as the elf poured tea into his cup, trying to sound like he wasn't too interested. Lucius had just taken a sip of his tea and set the cup on the saucer with a grimace.

"Indeed," he said, but didn't look too happy. "We're meant to bring that girl to him – that Mudblood, whom you used to spend time with when you first arrived to to Hogwarts, if I remember correctly. Though Merlin knows why he bothers himself with some young girl... it's something to do with the prisoner, that much I have gathered."

"Who is the prisoner?" Severus asked.

"I'm afraid I really have no clue... he was in Gryffindor, that I remember. Same year as you, I believe. But I can't for the life of me remember his name," Lucius said. "He was only brought here a little over an hour ago. Had the surprise of his life. He thought he'd get a large sack of gold, you see - not an audience with the Dark Lord. "

"Well... the Dark Lord told me he was of excellent use to him," Severus said.

"Indeed," Lucius said. "What a foolish idea of Dumbledore's, really, some sort of a pitiful resistance group... well, it has been in general knowledge for some time now that he has been losing his grip."

Severus sipped his tea in silence. He didn't quite know how to approach Lucius with what he desperately needed to know, not when the man quite obviously remembered his affiliation with Lily, and might become suspicious if he showed too much interest in the mission to capture her.

"Do tell me, how is your work at the Department of Mysteries?" Lucius asked him before he had the time to make up his mind.

"It's... good," Severus lied. "I can't really tell much about it. You understand, surely."

Lucius waved his hand graciously, and Severus could see by the look on his face that he had noticed the slight pause.

"I am familiar with the Department's codes of conduct. And it doesn't take much imagination to know why you have been sent there."

"It doesn't?" Severus asked, unable to stop himself from becoming interested.

"There is only one chamber in the Department of Mysteries that I can imagine is of interest to the Dark Lord," Lucius said. "When you have the, ah, privilege to spend as much time with him as I have, it becomes rather obvious what interests him especially."

"I'm afraid I haven't been granted that privilege as of yet," Severus said and sipped his tea. "What he wishes me to discover is as much of a mystery to me as is the subject of my studies, if I'm being entirely honest with you."

Lucius set his cup on the saucer. He briefly glanced around himself as though he was afraid he would find the Dark Lord hiding behind the china cabinet, then leaned conspiratorially towards Severus, who instinctively mimicked him. Lucius lowered his voice.

"A few weeks ago a new recruit came through here to the Lestrange mansion. He had had a very interesting chat with the Dark Lord, very interesting indeed."

Lucius paused, as though wanting to prolong the excitement. Severus leaned even closer, eager to hear what he had to say. Had he leaned any closer, their heads would have bumped against each other.

"It is well known among us whose fathers have been supporting him since the start, that he seeks to prolong his life. It is rumoured -" Lucius lowered his voice to a bare whisper "- that he has dabbled with very old, very dangerous Dark Magic in order to succeed at his endeavours. You must have wondered why he looks the way he does? According to my late father, he looked nothing like it when they went to school together. Now, you remember young Regulus Black surely - one year below you at Hogwarts? He remembered you, at least."

"I do," Severus said, conjuring up a fuzzy memory of a shy, tall, dark-haired boy who often sat alone in the common room, and wondered what he had to do with the Dark Lord's endeavours.

"He's the new recruit," Lucius continued in a low voice. "So, he went to the Lestrange mansion through here to get his Mark, and upon his return he stayed for tea and told me that the Dark Lord had -"

He was interrupted by the door of the parlour opening. Both Lucius and Severus jumped a little. Lucius promptly leaned backwards in his chair, and Severus reluctantly did the same, silently cursing the bad timing. The house elf who had served the tea was holding the parlour door open, and two well-dressed women stepped in. Both Lucius and Severus stood up.

"Is he here?" Bellatrix Lestrange demanded immediately. It was the first time Severus had seen her next to her sister, and thought she looked twice as unpleasant for it; as dark as her sister was blonde, and as a contrast she was wearing black while her sister was wearing light blue robes which flattered her eyes and skin and seamlessly blended into the blue colours of the room. Nevertheless, Severus had to admit that now that he had the chance to compare their looks in person, the resemblance between them was even greater. And had Sirius Black stood next to them, he could have passed for their younger brother.

"I'm afraid he's left," Lucius said while Narcissa came to greet Severus; he kissed her proffered hand and then she went around the table to sit next to her husband. The men sat back down. "He did not, uh, wish to stay for tea."

"Very well. I shall meet him at home, then. I only came to check the prisoner anyway," Bellatrix said impatiently and sat down on a chair next to her sister as though she hadn't even seen Severus (this suited him just fine as he was in no mood for her jabbing). "Dobby, bring us more tea."

Severus took a sip of his tea and wondered about whatever it was that Lucius had been about to say. So the Dark Lord wanted to prolong his life... and had told something to Regulus Black. What could it be? Then he suddenly remembered Lily and felt very guilty for having forgotten the danger she was in. He quickly made a note of everything Lucius had said to him about Regulus, deciding to ponder about what it all meant later; for now, there were more urgent things to worry about. How could he find out what the Dark Lord's plan was for Lily? He couldn't just ask, especially not now that Bellatrix had showed up.

Glancing at Lucius's blue eyes he wondered whether the man had had training in Occlumency. Deciding to risk it, he very carefully jabbed at his mental barriers, and then sneakily slipped inside. Lucius didn't seem to notice anything, as he eyed Severus in benevolent silence while Narcissa was busy telling Bellatrix about the shop she had bought the yellow rug from (Bellatrix looked positively bored).

Lucius was thinking of Severus, too - Severus gathered from his topmost emotions that Lucius was worried that his own reputation might become tarnished in the eyes of the Dark Lord if Severus should fail in his task, as it had been he who had recommended Severus to the Dark Lord. Trying to avoid triggering any emotions that might alert Lucius of his presence, Severus slipped deeper.

The Dark Lord's gruesome, corpse-like face and red eyes appeared in a memory, his thin lips moving as he gave Lucius directions regarding Lily's abduction.

Severus set down his half-finished cup and got up.

"I'm afraid I must take my leave already, Lucius, Narcissa – Bellatrix," he said hastily. Narcissa cocked her eyebrow, Bellatrix glared at him nastily, and Lucius looked at him with a confused look on his face; he had spilled his own tea into his lap at Severus's sudden movement. "Forgive my abrupt departure, but I have just realised that I should be back at work, it's only a little past midday. Work completely slipped my mind after my meeting with the Dark Lord."

Bellatrix made a scornful noise in her throat. Severus paid her no attention.

"Very understandable," Lucius said, wiped the front of his robes with a napkin and rose to shake Severus's hand. "I'd be delighted to host you better some other time."

"You must come for supper one of these evenings," Narcissa said. "We shall send you an invitation."

"I look forward to it. Good luck with... everything," Severus said (realising that it was best not to let Bellatrix know he was even aware of Lucius's mission) and, with a slight bow, left the blue parlour, passing the house elf carrying tea on a large tray on his way. He had barely gotten out of the manor's front door when he Disapparated.

Despite what he had claimed, he didn't go to work, Apparating instead directly to St. Mungo 's backyard. Lily had mentioned she was working at the Injuries Ward, so after scanning the shiny placards of the arrivals hall, he made his way along a long corridor until he came to bronze-coloured lifts which took him to second floor. He couldn't help but to nervously smooth his hair, which hung straight around his face as always, as he eyed his reflection in the shiny surface of the lift's doors. Then he straightened his back. If he could choose, he wouldn't have showed up to her work place out of the blue like this, but he had to stop her from going back home today after work. The lift dinged softly as he arrived to the Injuries Ward.

The first sight that greeted him was a bleeding old wizard lying on stretchers, who was crying out in pain as two healers tried to stifle the bleeding on his leg, which was missing a large chunk, and a third healer was pouring potion down his throat. None of the healers was Lily, and Severus went around the stretchers, craning his neck for any sight of her familiar head of red hair. The atmosphere at the Injuries Ward was hectic; green-clad healers were running around, carrying flasks and blankets and bloodied gauzes, harassed looks on their faces, and everywhere he looked, there was someone crying or bleeding. The Ward seemed to be full, as some patients were lying on temporary-looking beds in the corridors; one old witch was lying three feet in the air without any sort of a bed or stretchers under her. But Lily was nowhere to be seen.

"Excuse me," Severus said, grabbing a healer by her sleeve as she ran past him. He quickly let go and took a step back when he realised the witch was holding a bedpan. He tried to keep his eyes away from its floating contents as he addressed the healer. "Do you know Lily Evans? Is she here?"

"Lily who?" The witch barked impatiently. "Ask the reception if you don't know the number of the room!"

"She's not -" Severus started, but then had to jump out of the way as the witch hustled past him, the contents of the bedpan disgustingly splashing against its sides. He turned on his heels and stopped another healer.

"Excuse me, do you know Lily Evans? She works here." He asked the young man, who was luckily carrying nothing more disgusting than a bag that seemed to be full of laundry.

"Lily... uh, red hair?" the man asked absent-mindedly. Severus nodded. "Yeah, mate, sorry but she's not in today. She's not working here every day. I can take a message if you like?"

"No," Severus said, his mood sinking. "It's all right."

"Yeah, best not, probably would've forgotten to give it to her anyway. It's a right circus here today, typical Friday," the man said and shrugged, swinging the bag of laundry over his shoulder. "But hey – try the Elderly Ward. Fourth floor. She works there sometimes."

Severus thanked the man and went back to the lifts, impatiently banging the lift's button and waiting for it to come back from the first floor. He felt even more nervous now, and wondered how Lily would react to seeing him. Would she give him the cold shoulder again, just as she had at school? He's have to drag her away with him by force if that's what it took.

The Elderly Ward was a stark contrast to the hectic Injuries Ward. Despite having a similar layout as the Injuries Ward, it looked twice as large because the corridors were mostly empty. The floor was very quiet. Just a few mellow-looking healers were pushing elderly witches and wizards around in wheelchairs, and a couple of seniors were lounging by the window in one of the first rooms where Severus peeked in to, playing wizard chess. One old witch was wandering around the corridor, wearing furry slippers and a bedsheet attached to her thin curls like a bridal veil.

"Has Thomas sent you for me?" She asked Severus as he passed her. She had wide, owl-like eyes.

"Uh, no," Severus said.

"Oh, that's a shame. He was supposed to send for me," the woman said and looked so crestfallen that Severus almost felt bad for her for one odd moment. Then he just nodded and left the woman wandering along the corridor.

"Excuse me," he said as he reached one of the healers pushing a man in a wheelchair along the corridor. "Is Lily Evans working here today?"

"Lily?" the woman asked, a surprised look on her round face. "I haven't seen her... who's asking, anyway? Ooh! You're not James Potter, by any chance?"

"I'm not," Severus said icily and turned away from the woman and her patient. He started making his way back to the lifts.

"Lily is not here," he suddenly heard a voice behind himself. Severus stopped and turned to see a small, bald man in a floating wheelchair; he had come through a door leading to one of the room on the sides of the corridor. He wheeled himself closer to Severus.

"She's not?"

"No," the man said, staring at Severus with his round, blue eyes. "You have just missed her."

"She's just left?" Severus asked, silently cursing the bad timing for the second time that day.

"She has," the man said sadly. "She left to meet some man. She wouldn't even wash my hair."

"Right," Severus said and felt like kicking something. "Well... is she coming back?"

"Who knows, who knows..." the man bowed his head and sighed sadly."My wife never came back."

"Right," Severus said again, in a reserved tone.

"We were married for fifteen years," the man continued. "Then, one day... puff." He gestured with his hands. "Gone. Just a note on the table."

"...Right." Severus started slowly backing away towards the lifts. "Well, uh, thank you..."

"I think it's because I didn't remember to bring her flowers on our anniversary," the man yelled after him. "Or perhaps because I had another wife in Aberdeen. But I'm betting it was the flowers. So take heed, young man – always buy flowers!"

Severus slammed the lift doors closed behind himself. What a ghastly place to work, he thought with a shudder as he pressed the button, once again pitying Lily because Muggleborns had a much harder time to find employment even if they had good grades. The chamber of death in its bleak, stale emptiness suddenly felt like a luxurious place to work in comparison to this loony bin.

As Severus exited St. Mungo 's he realised that it couldn't be helped – he would have to go and try and snatch her from the Order of the Phoenix's meeting before the other Death Eaters found her. He supposed that if somebody recognised him he could always try and chalk up his unauthorised appearance to his youth, to his eagerness to prove himself to the Dark Lord... but he would get her out of there, he swore to himself. Failure was not an option.

As Severus Disapparated back to the Ministry, he suddenly realised that also James Potter would most likely be present at the meeting. His heartbeat quickened as he briefly sunk into a fantasy featuring Potter's mangled, dead corpse, and he realised he probably wouldn't get another chance to act; not before the end of the year when his time would most likely run out.

James Potter... the bane of his existence. Severus had no doubt in his mind that Potter would be perfectly capable of killing him if ever the opportunity arose, despite Lily's blue-eyed naivete and blind trust in her boyfriend's character. Potter was vicious. He was cruel, and he enjoyed hurting people, and especially he enjoyed hurting Severus. I recommend you mind your own business in the future. If you know what's good for you, he had said that night, after smashing Severus's nose and ribs to shards, right before he had gone to his common room to kiss Lily.

Severus thought back on that cursed night when he had laid Disillusioned on the floor, unable to move and feeling like he would choke on his own blood, hate pulsating in every cell of his body. He might not have used the killing curse, but Potter hadn't cared whether he choked or not. He hadn't cared that day on the lake either when he had tried to choke Severus with the Scouring Charm before dangling him upside down in front of half the school.

It was a question of domination, really, Severus thought as he entered the Chamber of Death. Which one would ultimately triumph over the other in this game they had been playing ever since they had first laid eyes on each other?

Hadn't they always been coming here?