Author's Note: Offhand, I think this is one of my favorite chapters to write. It was inspired by, believe or not, both Kabuki comics by David Mack and by a story I read recounting Vietnam POW's and their readjustment to normal life, (hence the bedroom scene at the end) will you please review and tell me what you think of this chapter? I'll hold the story hostage if you don't ::winks::

Voldemort, at the time of his most power, had been not so much handsome as he had been attractive. His was a kind of secretive attraction that women seldom admitted to enjoying. He lacked the rudimentary skills, however, to use this attraction to the best of his ability. He lacked even the most basic ideas of how to charm someone or skillfully execute a plan. He had a gruff, inartistic nature that never boded well with the aristocratic snobbery Severus enjoyed.

But Voldemort was not stupid. Nor was he ignorant of his Dark Prince's contempt for both himself and other Death Eaters. Severus was arrogant and because of that, he felt shamed to be forced to work with, in his opinion, such incompetent hacks. Voldemort allowed this arrogance because Severus always delivered on his promises. He allowed it because as long as the Prince enjoyed his certain amount of snobbery, he was useful.

So let Severus believe what he wanted to.

The Dark Prince waited until he had been called before stepping into the room. As always the Prince was wearing his mask underneath his hood, a subtle reminder of his worth. Voldemort did a rare show of affection by rising from his chair and greeting the Death Eater.

Severus stopped two paces in front of Voldemort to bow before taking his place by his right hand. "You called me milord?"

"It is time for me to keep my promise to the Lestranges." Voldemort replied, walking.

The Dark Prince regarded him curiously, choosing his words with great care. "Milord?"

"It is time we broke opened the gates of Azkaban. It is time we freed those entombed within that ocean prison. Tell me what you know about it."

"There are about as many wizards as Dementors there, all of the highest dueling caliber, stationed there. Their families make up a little community on the south side of the island." He ratted off the words with a strange, bitter tone. "Azkaban Fortress is similar to a Muggle army base in most respects, not easily conquered."

"Are you questioning my judgment?"

"No, milord just wondering who is taking on this bloodbath waiting to happen."

"You are." Then in a cold after thought, Voldemort added. "Unless you wish to say anymore eulogies this year."

"No; I shall obey." He paused. "The Aurors will be a minor headache but the Dementors?"

"They are our natural allies, dear Prince. You give them what they above all and they will follow you."

Severus felt a chill run up his spine. "You want me to give them the families? Milord, that is an entire community…"

"As acute an observation as I have come to expect from you, Severus." Voldemort called him by his real name in a rare show. "Now go," The Dark Prince turned to leave and Voldemort waiting a moment before adding, "And I would suggest you not report this your Headmaster because if this is not a success there will be dire consequences."

The Prince paused and stiffened. "Report it, milord?"

"Oh, did you think I did not know about your regular and dutiful reports to your Headmaster. I must feel inclined to ask myself if my Prince would think himself so clever as to hide all from his Master."

Severus' mind was racing. Voldemort hadn't killed him, yet, so that meant the Dark Lord was perhaps curious to see how he would react or just intrigued by his gall. Calling up all the strength he could muster, Severus sighed almost annoyed. "Ah, I see." He managed, knowing he had to trend lightly. "My Master is wise."

"Don't grovel now, it's unbecoming."

"Very well." He said lazily. "Then, this is a minor annoyance to me."

And Voldemort laughed, a cruel and loud laughter that chilled blood but it reassured him that the Dark Lord wasn't going to kill him. Yet.

"May I ask what my Lord thinks of this…news?"

"That is a genteel way of asking if I think you a spy, is it not?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"No, Severus." The Dark Lord assured him in a fatherly tone. "I think you are my Dark Prince and with good reason. You care about nothing but your own ends and although you have grace and a genteel matter; you are at heart just like me. Your gains are contingent, not only on the pursuit of power but also on your ability to remain alive. At times, that means certain," He smiled carelessly. "Sacrifices must be afforded as a necessity."

Severus stared at Voldemort and inclined his head, saying nothing more on the subject. "Azkaban will be yours milord."

Voldemort watched his chief Death Eater go. Of all his supporters, there was none Voldemort distrusted more then Severus. Despite his cruelty and bloodlust, Severus at his heart was a simple, narrow-minded man. At the core of Severus' shady loyalties and dual personas was a very simple code: the Auror's code of honor. Everything Severus did, he did for honor be it his own or that of the fallen. His actions were driven by his view of right and wrong. Friend or foe, Severus made little recognition to either when it came to achieving his goals. Voldemort's mind drifted back to the young, grieving Auror that Jacqueline had brought to him that night many years ago. He smiled. "But you know something of betrayal…"

Safe.

It wasn't until Severus had bolted himself in his bedroom at Hogwarts that he finally paused to catch his breath. He made no attempt to quell the shaking that overcame his entire or the nausea that twisted painfully in his stomach.

"Don't make a sound…"

Severus brushed his hand over his sweat soaked hair and tried to hold back the uncontrollable sobs that racked his body. He threw himself on his bed and buried his head into the pillow, trying desperately to hold back the memories that came hurtling towards the surface.

Green light…over his house…no, that's not possible.

Melanie wasn't breathing…and the child was crying in the background…

"Quiet Jude, you'll wake her…"

"At what time Mr. Snape did you…"

"Why did you do it, Alexander…"

You've always hidden behind a mask…

"Don't make a sound…"

Just keep walking…don't think about that.

He's asking when did I become a traitor…

"Why did you betray us?"

"Forgive me!" Severus screamed into the darkness but of course no one answered him back. "Billy, please understand…I'm sorry." The sobs that broke the night's silence echoed throughout the school halls although none who heard it thought it human. The sound was too animal, too base and intense that no human could produce such a damning noise that shook the hearer to the soul. It was a cry of the damned. "Forgive me!"

Severus gradually felt the torrent of emotion ebb and disappear back into the deep regions of his heart. Slowly and painfully, his breathing calmed and the shaking dulled but, despite his exhaustion, he couldn't sleep. His body ached for rest, for the deep, dreamless coma that sleep promised him.

And did something he hadn't done for years. Pulling the covers from his bed, Severus threw them into the corner of his room opposite the windows, near the door. He arranged the thick blanket like a jumbled mess, barely cushioning the hard, cold floor. Then pulling his thin sheet over his frame, he curled into a fetal position with his back against the wall. He propped his arm for use as a pillow.

Just like he had slept those many nights in Azkaban.

Cold, private, dark and dank but save. That's all that mattered. Let the nightmares come…and the beatings…let them come with the Dementors and their Judas' Judgment…let them think whatever they wanted. In here they couldn't touch him.

In here, he was safe…almost…

Severus took his mask and slid it over his features. In the pale moonlight, he could see the world through thin veils of silver tears that his mask, his only shield, kept hidden from the world. With his mask, he was invulnerable and...

Safe.

And Severus slept.