Chapter 67: Dark Deeds

{A/N: Here's Another Update...)

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Unknown Location, Muggle World...

Thick black clouds of smoke rose as high and as far as the eye could see. The scent of blood, soot, and burned wood filled the air as did the various screams of those tormented in the blaze. Another Muggle town had been caught in the crosshairs of the vengeful dark lord and his all too eager ilk. Among them stood Severus Snape, his ebony robes and ivory mask quite the contrast from the grey robes of those around him. The sickeningly sweet scent of decay along with the copper scent of blood lingered in this place as prominent as the smoke that threatened to black out the very sky. Snape did his best to choke down the bile that had been creeping up on the back of his throat as a result of the stench. More screams filled the air as he stood relatively close to a beaten and broken body caked in blood and soot. It had been a man, a merely Muggle man with what remained of his business suit and formerly heavily polished shoes. His flesh looked sickly seared by flames and splattered as his attire had been with blood. He wore a pair of glasses broken on impact as his head hit the ground prior to his body contorting in agony via the fire spell that engulfed him. His screams had been the loudest and seemed to echo within the Potions Master's weary mind. In the early hours of the morning he had been summoned to this town. The despot had the twisted desire to see it burned and ordered Snape himself to do it. A show of loyalty it seemed and a means of testing his resolve.

He had taken care to ensure Hermione had been returned to her bedroom.

It was the least he could do given the hour he'd gone out. The less questions she'd have to answer for her notoriously nosy little friends the better. Dumbledore bunking with them had not made the potential for her getting caught in his chosen quarters any less of a chore. He'd made it abundantly clear that he had not liked the idea of them growing closer, despite arranging the marriage to begin with. At the present moment he had himself wondered if anything more should come of their arrangement given the lengths in which he was forced to go to in order to maintain his duplicitous identity. The more he stayed under the helm of the despot, the more his old nature seemed to creep back.

The screams of this poor unfortunate Muggle had barely bothered him.

Lighting the man aflame had been just as simple as flicking a switch to illuminate a darkened room.

The screams were ignored as were the constant pleas.

How he hated when they attempted to plea for their lives. The despot rather enjoyed it, but it always angered Snape to some extent and he was always more than willing by that point to put the sniveling cowards out of their collective miseries.

A flick of the wrist and he was in that dark place again. The Muggle's identity made no difference. All he could see was the bastard that had made his life a living hell from the very beginning. The coward whom had dared to call himself his father.

"Well done S-S-Severus-s-s." said the despot appearing beside Snape whom had glared down at the body of the charred Muggle man. "You haven't los-sst your touch."

Snape remained silent as he continued to glare down corpse at his feet.

It didn't surprise him that the serpentine creature in humanoid form delighted in such barbaric tactics. He'd always been a fan of slow and pointless torture. His very definition of "fun" was to torment his victim to the very last moment before abruptly ending their wasted existence with brute force.

Voldemort seemed quite pleased with the execution on the part of his newly returned protégé. If he were honest, he had harbored some doubts about Snape's commitment to the cause after the unfortunate misunderstanding about one Lily Potter. He had attempted to spare the woman, if only to reward his faithful servant but she had other ideas. The loss had effectively changed Severus whom had become withdrawn and distant since those earlier days where he relished a night of Muggle hunting like the rest of the overzealous members of the death eater ranks. Severus Snape was a quiet and rather clever man, a good asset to have on one's side. The despot had not forgotten his last order for his servant, to infiltrate Hogwarts and spy on the much despised Albus Dumbledore.

Snape awaited his dismissal, noting the hour of the morning and the destruction of the formerly sleepy little Muggle town. Once more his disgust as his actions, even as Dumbledore's given mantra about the "Greater Good" echoed in his mind. All eyes appeared to have been on him for quite some time as many a death eater seemed to critique his "work" as it were. The despot had not wished to keep him as everyone began to disperse, traveling in separate directions. There was no doubt that this much chaos and death would get the Ministry of Magic's attention and it wouldn't be long before the Aurors came running to investigate.

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Unknown Location, Unknown World...

Trembling hands pressed against cold earth as Severus Snape did his best to keep his body up right in the wake of falling to his knees. He had not been able to cease his vomiting since he'd taken his leave of the Muggle town he'd been forced to lay to waste. The screams echoed in his mind as he crawled toward a nearby tree. Blood seemed to ooze everywhere like a telling river as he attempted to suppress the entire event in a bid to regain control of his mind. He could feel the twisted monster's hand on his shoulder and the utterance of approval from it's accursed lips as he stared down at the horror stricken corpse that burned at his feet.

Snape wondered briefly if the man had a family, if he'd had a wife or children whom would have been looking for him once news of the town's burning had reached the press. A flash of Hermione and what she would think of the one responsible for such a heinous crime set him off again.

Vomiting what had been left of the contents of his stomach, Snape found himself unable to hold himself up any longer feeling decidedly weaker than he'd ever been in his own right. This time, his blood had not been spilled for the sake of the despot's amusement, but he had very much wished it had. The prospect of facing anyone after what he'd done was something he'd have to deal with in place of having to ingest a few healing potions.

As he lied back against the cold ground, he could smell the scent of herbs and fresh earth mixed with the copper scent of blood and charred wood and flesh. His weary mind had taken him away from his anguish and back to the witch whom had made each moment bearable.

"Hermione." he said despite his current condition.

He knew all too well that he'd been the last person to deserve her, but she was all he had in terms of knowing any peace. The last thing he recalled was the memory of her amber eyes gazing upon him as his consciousness faded to black.