"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready….if you are prepared…."
"I am," said Snape.
He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.
"Then, good luck," said Dumbledore.
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, JK Rowling.
***Disclaimer*** I do not own Harry Potter. I'm just a huge fan that loves to imagine and explore the possibilities and experiences of JK Rowling's wonderful characters.
Dumbledore had a look of apprehension on his face, which Snape ignored. His dark eyes darted quickly over to Harry Potter lying in the hospital wing bed looking pained and exhausted, surrounded by his friends. Snape looked away just as fast, not keen on making contact with anyone. He turned on his heel and swept wordlessly out of the room, knowing he was as ready and prepared as anybody could possibly be. Though that might not mean much considering what he was about to do.
He walked down the corridor and out the castle doors with purpose, relieved to not meet anyone along the way. Dumbledore had ensured the crowds from the Triwizard Tournament had been dispersed very quickly after Potter had returned holding Cedric Diggory's body. The students had been all sent back to their dormitories and Professor Sprout was sitting with Diggory's parents. Snape needed to reach the edge of Hogwarts' grounds before he could apparate and he had no room in his mind to dwell on anything else right now.
He concentrated on arranging his thoughts and putting up shields where appropriate. Snape had dedicated himself to mastering the art of mind defences and it was the only way he possibly stood a chance at surviving. He couldn't waste time on being afraid or lingering on the regrets and resolutions that had brought him to this point. He had made his choices long ago and this was his path in life. Snape pointed the tip of his wand to the Dark Mark on his arm the moment his foot stepped outside the grounds, not even giving himself the chance to hesitate.
He felt a tug along his navel and vanished, reappearing almost instantaneously where the Dark Lord was. It appeared to be a large drawing room in an uninhabited old manor. Most of the furniture was covered by dusty white sheets and chairs were flipped upside down atop the long table near the window, which was covered by heavy red drapes. Voldemort had moved from the Graveyard that Potter had spoken of, and with no sounds in the room aside from the crackling fire, it seemed that the other Death Eaters had already been dismissed.
Concentrating on keeping his mind calm and focused, by compressing his emotions, Snape tightened his grip on his wand. He angled his head to see around the chair set in front of the fire, making out enough of a form to confirm someone was sitting there silently. There was some hissing and Snape raised his arm wand at the ready, as a huge snake slid across the chair's occupant's lap and onto the floor. It slithered down the carpeted floor towards him with yellow eyes watching him hungrily. The snake held him in place and It felt like an eternity before Voldemort stood up to acknowledge him.
"My Lord," Snape said, immediately dropping to his knees in a deep bow.
"Severus Snape," hissed Voldemort coldly.
Voldemort's black robes were sweeping across the floor and Snape raised his head to look up at him as the Dark Lord drew nearer. It was a painful sight to behold, the snake-like face signifying exactly how little humanness still remained in Lord Voldemort. Though he stood there in the flesh, returned to a body, and a face more full of fury than Snape had dared to imagine. Voldemort's rebirth had not gone as he'd intended. Harry Potter had seen to that, and all Voldemort's followers had been made to to pay the price.
"I apologize for my lateness," Snape said.
Then gasped unexpectedly as he was thrown aggressively against the wall. His wand flew out of his hand and out into the hall where it landed on the thick grey carpet. Snape was unarmed and powerless now, not that he had intended to use it. Snape didn't dare to speak and kept his teeth firmly clenched together as he received another invisible blow to the face. He looked up at Voldemort and noticed the murderous glimmer of satisfaction in the red eyes, then Snape bowed his head in remorse.
"My Lord, I have much to explain," Snape said.
"I didn't expect you to return," Voldemort said, sounding almost amused. "I thought you'd made a run for it."
"No, my Lord," Snape replied. "I wanted to come immediately."
"Did you?" Voldemort asked, flicking his wand so that a clean slice, like from a dagger, cut suddenly across Snape's face.
"Or was it not allegiance to a new master that brought you here?" Voldemort said, as crimson blood dripped down Snape's cheeks. "Are you not here on Dumbledore's orders?"
"Crucio," Voldemort said coldly, not giving Snape any chance to explain or defend himself.
Snape screamed. Not even he could withstand the overwhelming torture of the Cruciatus Curse. It made him feel like his whole body was on fire and like his bones were being crushed into powder at the same time. He writhed on the floor, unable to think about anything but the pain and how he needed it to stop. It's infliction made its victims beg for the mercy of death, but Snape did not. He held on. And when Voldemort lifted the curse, Snape spat out a mouthful of blood.
"Does Dumbledore care so little for his puppet he'd send you back to me?" Voldemort cajoled.
"I'm yours, Master," Snape said quickly, with as much strength and dignity as he could muster. Before Voldemort decided to curse him again.
"I've never belonged to Dumbledore," he said.
"You've spent the last thirteen years living in that old fool's pocket," Voldemort said coldly.
"I thought you were gone," Snape whispered. "I used Dumbledore's protection to keep myself out of prison."
Voldemort raised his wand and Snape flinched but it wasn't aimed at him this time. There was a squeal of pain and a dumpy little man with a silver arm ran in from the hallway where he'd been stationed at attention. It was Peter Pettigrew and Snape glowered at him even as he spat out more blood. He blamed Pettigrew for everything, even more than Voldemort. The traitorous coward who had told Voldemort where the Potters were hiding and helped him return to power tonight. He forced himself to look away.
"Wormtail came to find me," Voldemort said. "This weak and blithering man has done more for me than you, Severus. You didn't care if I returned. You never tried to find me. You were perfectly happy being under Dumbledore's thumb."
"No, my Lord," Snape said softly, raising his head with some difficulty so that he could look Voldemort directly in the eye.
"I regret not searching for you. I regret not doing more," Snape said softly.
"You mean more like saving Harry Potter's life?" Voldemort asked.
Snape flinched again and his lip curled indignantly at the name he so despised. He shook his head bitterly and greasy hair that was dampened by his blood stuck to his face. He had kept an eye out for Potter since the day he'd arrived at Hogwarts and intervened every time it was necessary. He was determined no harm should ever come to Harry Potter but now came the challenge of convincing Voldemort that this was not a betrayal, but a strategic play.
"I kept him safe for Dumbledore," Snape confessed. "It was only his protection that kept me out of Azkaban. I followed Dumbledore's orders, or so he believes. I've kept my post at Hogwarts."
"Like a coward," Voldemort hissed, and Snape bowed his head mournfully.
"I know I don't deserve your mercy," Snape said remorsefully, using the front of his black robes to wipe some of the blood off of his face. "But I know I will be a useful servant to you again, my Lord. Now more than ever."
"I've been spying on Albus Dumbledore for all these years since you placed me at his school," Snape told him. "Dumbledore trusts me and he confides in me. Stuff about the Order and about Potter. He thinks I've only rejoined you right now because he told me to, but I have always remained faithful to you."
"Faithful! Did you hear that, Wormtail?" Voldemort asked jeeringly.
"Yes, Master," Wormtail said nervously. He wasn't certain what sort of response Voldemort wanted. Whether or not he was believing what Snape was saying or about to kill him.
"Barty Crouch Junior has already been given the Dementor's kiss," Snape said, and Voldemort stared.
Though it was agony, Snape staggered onto his knees and crawled across the floor to Lord Voldemort. He needed to prove his value. He needed to convince the Dark Lord that he was loyal and above such weaknesses his other Death Eaters displayed. Severus Snape wasn't kneeling before him and kissing the hem of his robes right now out of fear. He could have remained in hiding at Hogwarts under Dumbledore's protection. Snape had answered Voldemort's summons because he wanted to be back in his service, playing his part so well that he could have almost believed it himself. Employing Occlumency, so that he knew, with confidence, that Voldemort saw nothing but truthfulness in his eyes.
"The real Alastor Moody has been found and Barty Crouch was discovered before he could commit his assassination attempt against Potter. Dumbledore has deployed Sirius Black to gather up the members of the Order of the Phoenix and alerted the Minister of Magic about your return, though Fudge doesn't want to believe it. Potter has already told Dumbledore everything that happened in the graveyard."
"There's more," Snape said desperately, still gripping the hem of Voldemort's robes. "There's a lot I've learned about Dumbledore and Potter in the past thirteen years that I wish to share with you, Master. I live to serve you."
"Get up, Severus," Voldemort said and Snape rose automatically. His face was stiff with composure that disguised how much agony he was in.
"Retrieve his wand," Voldemort ordered Wormtail, who hurried out in the hall to pick up the disarmed wand.
Wormtail brought it back to Snape and held it out with a shaking hand. Snape raised his eyebrows at him as he accepted it wordlessly. His lip curled and he was pleased to see the way Peter Pettigrew cowered. Things had certainly changed since their school days when Pettigrew had bigger friends to hide behind and attack Severus with, four on one. Even giving Voldemort his literal arm did nothing to raise Wormtail in his ranks. Severus Snape would prove much more valuable.
"Leave us, Wormtail," Voldemort commanded, and there was another squeal of pain as the Dark Lord struck him with a lazy wave of his wand.
"Dumbledore thinks I'm only here at his command," Snape explained again, "so I can return and keep my post for you."
Voldemort strode back across the floor and sat back down in his same chair. He balanced his wand between his two hands, and his snake slithered over to him as well. She curled her coils around the leg of the chair and raised her enormous head. Voldemort used a long grey finger to stroke her gently as Snape limped over to join them, and boldly took the vacant chair seated right next to his master.
"Start at the beginning," Voldemort waved his hand, now willing to listen.
Snape began recanting a modified version of where and what he had been doing in the immediate aftermath of the night Voldemort had gone after the Potters. It was time to prove what he was made of. It was the unavoidable penance he had been anticipating ever since he'd noticed his dark mark beginning to form once again on his skin. Salvation seemed close enough for him to nearly taste and he was satisfied now, even as he suffered. His way forward was clear.