"Severus...."

The hissing voice sent chills down the back of the dark robed figure as he knelt before the rough hewn slabs of stone that throned the man he knew first and foremost as Master. He felt his body tremble in a manner than had nothing to do with the chill of the stone floor. He was acutely aware of the two hooded men who had stepped up to flank him as he bowed, of the hundreds of eyes that burned into him from all sides.

"Master, I return to you," he said simply, knowing the futility in further explaination, no matter how elaborate. There would be time enough for that later if his Master so chose. If not, there would be no excuse in the world that would save him even for a second from the horrors he would face.

"So we see." The dry snap of fingers and the two men beside Severus grasped his arms and lifted him to his feet. "So often it is that the stray lamb returns to the fold. Yet also that same lamb does run the risk of destruction upon its return, for the rest of the flock grows envious and will, in time, tear the unfortunate stray to shreds." Snape heard the rustle of robes and one of the wizards jerked his head back sharply so that he was staring at the figure seated upon the throne. He fought back a dry sob as he remembered a time nearly half a year ago when he was held in the same position, but that time by a man named Alastor-

"One must wonder not only why the lamb has strayed," the voice from the shadows continued. "But also why it returns. Could it be that it found itself lost and helpless in the world beyond, shunned by those who it would have called friend? Or perhaps there is another reason, that the lamb has instead turned wolf..."

"Master, I-"

"Shh, now is not the time for words, my young lamb. For even if the lamb had but lost its way in the dark, it is up to the shepherd to make certain that it shall never make the same mistake twice." Again the soft whisper of black cloth as Snape felt the tip of a wand trace his jawbone. He braced himself for what was coming, knowing it was useless.

The pain hit him like a wall of stone, crushing him down and forcing him to his knees. The two wizards at his side released their grip and he fell, twisted and bent to the hard stone floor. His blood was molten in his veins, a fountain of iron and razor burning him from the inside out. His skin alternately burned and froze until Snape thought he would go mad as he writhed upon the ground. Blood flecked his face the the stone floor from where he bit his lip nearly through, but all this time he made no sound. To cry out now would be an admission of guilt, a weakness that would not go unnoticed by the man who brought him to the realm of agony. If he could just keep his silence, just a few moments more- but the pain was so bad, so bad, getting worse with every passing heartbeat until he felt his entire soul would burst, an agony he had never dreamed of, worse then the fires of hell, it was so bad, it was too bad-

And then it stopped.

Snape lay panting on the floor, alternately gasping and fighting back sobs. Still, before even the aching in his limbs had died away he crawled across the floor to press his lips to the hem of Voldemort's robe.

"How many more would you take, my young lostling?" The voice was deceptively soothing, almost caring.

"As many as you see fit, my Master." Snape forced himself to say the words, not knowing if the games he played now would be the death of him. He trembled at the thought of another onslaught of the pain but held his tongue. Even the torments of the Cruciatus were better than going back to Azkaban.

"Where have you been?"

The simplicity of the question caught Snape off guard. Rarely, if ever had he seen his Master offer such an open opportunity for explaination to a Death Eater who had done some wrong. But with a quickness of mind that had been both the awe and envy of student and teacher alike, he orginized his thoughts.

"Hogwarts," he said, rising to his knees before the stone slabs. "I left the night we burned the Muggle village, when the girl-" His voice caught, but he forced the words past the lump in his throat, knowing that the slightest hesistation now could bring his death. "When the girl was slain by the potions I brewed." Snape thought he saw Voldemort's eyes gleam for a fraction of a second. "I ran, I don't remember what I was thinking as I ran, but it seemed so perfect to me, for that one instant I knew how I could be of greater service to you than I had ever been before. I had to make it perfect, make it real. So I made as if to flee your ranks, ran to London where I was found by the Ministry."

"How did you know they wouldn't kill you right off and be done with it?"

Snape allowed himself a small smile, though it hurt to stretch his bleeding lip. "Dumbledore, of course. The old fool remembered me from my school days. He wanted to give me another chance, I staked my life on the hope that he would convince the others. He did not believe that even a traitor would beg for the dementor's Kiss." Snape didn't have to shudder as he spoke his next words. "Even still, I spent three months in Azkaban until they decided." He dared to look up at the man seated before him while still humbled on the ground. "This I did and would willingly do more for you, my Lord, my Master."

"Continue."

Snape licked his dry lips. "Dumbledore offered me a place at Hogwarts. But the Ministry would never let a matter like this out of their hands. They wanted to send me back here, to you. A spy. It was exactly as I had hoped."

"The spy that turned its colors twice is tenfold more dangerous than a one time traitor." Voldemort's smooth voice flowed over the ears of all assembled as he studied Snape through half closed eyes. "But what of the snake who only feigns his markings? The viper dyed to resemble a grass snake will still bring death through its fangs."

Bowing his head, Snape knelt even lower on the floor. "Though I made it seem as if I turned against you once, I swear to you, Lord, I never faltered in my loyalty. If I am to be held at fault for anything, let it be only that I acted impulsively without first consulting someone who knows more of these things than I." Snape held his breath as he waited for Voldemort's response.

Silence hung between the two men as the rest of the gathering looked on. The tension built up around them as the surrounding Death Eaters held their collective breath. Suddenly, Voldemort made a sharp gesture with his free hand, never taking his eyes off Snape. The doors to the chamber flew open, and the entire assembly moved as one body to rise and leave. In a matter of moments, the only two people left in the room were Snape and the man looking down upon him from his regal, barren throne.

"What you say is true," the man said, turning his wand over and over in his hands. Snape repressed a sigh of sheer relief. "Yet, I cannot let such a blatent disregard for my orders to go unpunished, can I? It was indeed a devious plot as you tell it, yet you erred, as you said, in your impulsivness. Such a thing could have led to more disaster than you could ever imagine. You must understand why such risks are not tolerated under my rule, for now and forever."

"Yes- Master." Snape could barely whisper around the fear the constricted his throat. The first wave of pain hit him, drawing a red curtain over his eyes. As he he suffered silently there on the ground, Snape could barely make out Voldemort's next words.

"Cunning, brave little lamb. I have heard your silence once already, you have nothing more to prove to me. We are alone- I would not think less of you if you chose to use that voice of yours..."

Severus' screams could be heard for a long, long time.

* * *

"Oh, Merlin- tell me it was worth it, Albus. Tell me it was worth this!"

From somewhere beneath the waking realm, Severus Snape heard McGonagall's voice and thought for a moment that she was crying. That was odd, what would she have to cry over? Term didn't start for another few months, so it couldn't be because of a student. Maybe someone died?

For a while longer, he floated in and out of the strange level of consciousness that wasn't truly sleep, but farther still from wakefullness. It was almost pleasant, this lack of feeling, the lack of caring that came with his odd state of limbo. While he was there, nothing had to bother him if he didn't let it, nothing could pull him back into the living world if he didn't want to go. Somewhere in the back of his consciouness, a stray thought told him that there was pain back there, that while he was in this suspended state nothing could hurt him.

He couldn't be hurt anymore.

He tried, he tried so hard to bring himself deeper, farther from the pain that awaited him when he awoke. But there was something out there, something that wouldn't let him go.

"Severus."

No, he thought, no, go away. Don't bring me back up, not yet. Let me rest here, where it's peaceful. I don't want to come back just yet, just let me sleep. There weren't any dreams here, not like the nightmares that plauged him when he usually slept. He just wanted more time to sleep, more time away from the dreams that haunted him every time he closed his eyes.

"Severus." The voice was more insistant now. He felt a hand shaking his shoulder, interrupting his stasis.

"No," he muttered, trying to shrug the hand off. It just shook him harder. "Too tired, let me rest-"

"Not a chance," Albus' voice said. "If you sleep now, Severus, you may not wake up again. And I'm not going to lose you to him again." A cool hand took one of his own as McGonagall spoke. "Please, Severus. Wake up. Come back to us."

Slowly, reluctantly, Snape allowed himself to drift upwards towards the surface of his dreaming world. Light shone red through his eyelids and the smell of soap and something sharp and clean penetrated his thoughts. He opened his eyes slowly, wincing as the bright light of the Hospital Wing hit them.

"Severus?" Snape turned and saw Dumbledore sitting beside him, worry creasing the already wrinkled brow. "Severus, can you hear me?"

"Y-yes." Snape blinked and took in his surroundings. He was laying on one of the hospital beds back in Hogwarts. Pomfrey was busying herself at the sink, her back turned to him so he couldn't see her face. McGonagall sat stiffly to his left, holding one of his thin, slender hands in her own, stress and worry drawing her features tight. "What happened?"

"I was hoping you would be able to tell us," Dumbledore said. "When you came back to us, you were a complete wreck. As soon as we got you up to the Hospital Wing you passed out. We thought we'd lost you then, and you gave us no few scares while you were healing. Do you remember what happened? Anything at all?"

Snape shook his head and immediately regretted it. Pain exploded in his brain as bright lights danced before his eyes. He moved to raise his left hand out of sheer reflex and found that it was bound tight to the side of the bed.

"You were moving in your sleep," McGonagall said quickly, before Snape could either ask questions or panic. "Poppy had to tie you down so you wouldn't injure yourself further. You-" She grimaced. "You dislocated your left shoulder and somehow managed to break a bone in your wrist. Those were the major ones. At least, those were the ones we could see."

Snape closed his eyes as the memories began to return, sweeping over him like so many poisonous parasites. "Cruciatus," he whispered. He felt McGonagall's hands clench over his own, heard Madam Pomfrey's horrified intake of breath. "Too many times- I lost count. I told him what you said to, Albus. He thinks I'm still one of his followers."

"Then why this?"

"Because I acted on my own, or so I said. He doesn't like someone else coming up with a better plan than his own. And- to make an example." Snape shuddered at the memory. "Before I left, he had two of them hold me, they took my arms while he cast it one last time. I think that's where I hurt my arm, must have wrenched it out of place while I-"

"That's enough, Albus, Minerva." Madam Pomfrey's voice cut through Snape's memories, brought him back to the present. "He needs to rest." Her eyes fell disaprovingly on Dumbledore. "I don't approve of this, Albus. I don't see what's so important that you have to send this boy out there to have that done to him."

"Yes you do, Poppy," Dumbledore said wearily. "You don't want to admit it, but you understand. We all make sacrfices in this war."

Pomfrey sniffed. "Be that as it may, I still don't approve. Out with you both now, I don't want you worrying this boy yet. He'll be better in a few days."

As Dumbledore and McGonagall left, Snape closed his eyes once more. A few more days until he recovered, until he was well again.

A few more days until he was sent once more into the jaws of the serpent.