Dark Empire

Disclaimer: All belongs to Rowling. Nothing belongs to me. Except my collection of pennies.

Rating: R, perhaps even NC-17 later on.

Summary: This is an Alternate Universe ficcie. Just pretend that you are in the late 1930's to the 1940's, and that the Nazi's were instead rampaging wizards.

"blah"- talking

*blah *- thought

WARNING: While there will be a comfortable quantity of heterosexual relationships in this story, there will also be a comfy level of homosexual ones too. Because that's just how life is, baby.

Chapter 2: The Possession

The Resistance Headquarters were located in a most unusual place. General Avery, ugly and stupid bastard that he was, never fully realized that it might be just across the street from his Ministry. No, as a General it was his duty to assume that all resistance members lived in the sewers, dressed like ragamuffins and couldn't speak any proper language, be it French, English or Japanese. Little did he know that all members of the resistance were very fluent, for there had never been a lack of imaginative swear words in the Headquarters all day, most especially in the office of Sirius Black.

"Well give me a shit-in-a-can." Sirius breathed softly, flipping through a folder thick with articles and references. "Who in the thirteen layers of Lucifer's anus is this man? Is he human?"

"Yes, he's human." Remus snapped, becoming quite fed up with his friend's earnest need to use lurid and twirling language in his presence. "Didn't you have to work a file on him five-odd years ago? When he was first employed by Voldemort?"

"Well…" Sirius leaned back in his chair and dropped the folder onto his desk. "That was just when he was a supervisor. I had about fifty other assignments at the same time, and all he did then was baby-sit one of Voldemort's cults. I thought he was just another grunt. Fuck me, I didn't even know where he was from."

Remus gritted his teeth and reached for the bottle of Aspirin in his pocket. A little voice in the back of his head told him that he would need it.

"Some job, Sirius." He muttered, "How did you get this far again?"

"Cause everybody else got killed," Sirius grinned devilishly, "So tell me about the elusive Mr. Malfoy again, Moony."

Remus rolled his eyes.

"Full name: Lucuis Diablo Malfoy III-"

Sirius coughed with laughter.

"Who the hell would name their kid Diablo? Are you telling me that there've been at least three members of this family with that crackpot name?!"

"Sirius-"

"And I've gotta watch this guy? What's he gonna do, drink blood and sacrifice young virgins each night before going to bed?"

"Sirius-"

"What's his son's name again? The Dark Lord Fucks-Me-Up-The-Ass?"

Remus felt a vein pop in his forehead.

"SIRIUS WILL YOU PLEASE SHUT UP!!"

"Fine, fine, but he still sounds like a smarmy cigarette brand to me."

Remus considered the consequences of killing the head of the French Resistance momentarily, but calmed down after envisioning several naked boys in garter.

"Moving on-" he glared at the man smiling innocently back at him, "Full name: Lucius Diablo Malfoy III, Age: 35, Rank: General, Grand Hyperion of the Schutzstaffel. He is currently in
Voldemort's Council, and as far as we know, responsible for the resistance failure in Czechoslovakia. Also on his very in-depth resume is the set up of Azkaban and the Slavic Raids. He arrived two weeks ago in Paris, flew to Berlin for two days, flew to the Wolf's Lair for one day, and returned to Paris, where he is staying with Avery and undergoing a massive briefing. Although, I have a feeling that he will learn nothing of the current situation. Avery would never admit to his own incompetence, and just telling Lucius about the past week is like signing 'stupid' under his name. Was that too much for you to handle, you great cur?"

Sirius leaned over the table and gave the werewolf a quick peck on the cheek. Remus blushed for a moment, his agitation gone as Sirius rose from his chair and came to stand next to him.

"Not at all. What do we have on his personality? I want to know his weaknesses."

Remus picked up the folder and flipped through it aimlessly.

"Not much. Voldemort filed him away for such a long time. All we know is what we can get. He visited the hospital six times in the past year, so we can assume he was fairly sick, and his son is almost finished his schooling at Hausser. Besides that…there's a few pain killer prescriptions that one of our leads got three years ago."

"An addict?"

"Not that we know of. Unfortunately."

Lucius sat on the plush leather armchair, legs crossed, with a cigarette in between his fingers. He faced the wall, which was bare, save a few cracks in the yellowish plaster and spots of mildew. A similarly bare lightbulb swung from a small chain on the ceiling, providing the only light in the room. The black curtains, the only visible sign left from Avery's reign, were covered with dust, and had formed a caked layer of grunge on the curtain rings. As usual, there was a look of disdain on the General's face.

He raised the cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply. Nicotine. One of his many addictions; along with killing and morphine. Sex had lost its potency with him, and he mourned the loss. But even the syringe only temporarily eased the pain in his chest. Pain, ha…he exhaled, releasing a cloud of tabacco from his lips, wishing that he could keep the fumes within him permanently.

There was a knock at the door and Lucius shifted his slanted grey eyes to it.

"Come in." he spoke icily, absorbed in the cigarette and the smoke that rose from the nub of hot ash. The door opened with no amount of ease. There was a short sound of scuffling and then a full-fledged assault on the hinges with the officer's shoulder. The knob finally groaned and an officer tumbled in. Grey eyes scanned the man standing in the doorway. They missed very little, the officer's boots were ill kept and the uniform was shoddy, signs of a man who had far too much work, and no subordinate to do his bidding. His eyes moved on. The man had a lean body that stooped with weariness, but with no small amount of lithe muscle. Black hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and the man's skin was scrubbed to a clean luster.

"So tell me, Snape…" Lucius drawled, "How do you like my 'office'? Is it not the envy of the Third Reich?"

Snape darted his black eyes over the room and nearly gagged. Lucius knew Severus Snape well; they had graduated from Hausser together, served in the same unit during the reign of Grindlewald, and joined Voldemort at around the same time. Of course, they had seen little of each other over the past two years, and just because they knew each other well, did not mean that they got along. Lucius felt that Snape was a man whose ambitions were larger than his abilities. He was an annoyance-like a gnat constantly climbing into his ear. But this was better that Nott or Avery, or nearly any of Voldemort's subordinates.

"What is it Severus?" Lucius absently flicked the cigarette from his fingers and stomped the nub of ash out with his heel.

"I've received notice from Avery that you are to head the Ministry now. Sir." Snape finished with a clipped tone. It was then that Lucius began to notice that which his eyes had not shown him earlier. Snape stood covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his knees knocked ever so lightly. The man's fists were clasped so hard Lucius was certain that without the gloves Snape would have drawn blood. So Severus Snape was scared. Of what, Lucius was certain he knew- the man was terrified as being identified as a main spy to the Resistance. Avery had not know of Snape's background when the officer had been assigned to the Ministry, but Lucius knew of Snape's long trips to England before the war, and of the man's once-close friend Dumbledore. He smiled, curling his lips softly, imitating Voldemort exactly. He made a metal note to avoid his leader more often. It wouldn't do to pick up psychopathic habits from his deranged leader, he had enough as it was.

"Is that all, Snape?"

The black-haired man twisted his lips.

"I was requested by Avery to give you a quick briefing, sir."

Well, this was interesting. Snape wasn't that far down the latter of command, and it was not his position to do anything akin to briefing. Snape was in charge of Ministry Potions, not giving the Minister spoon-fed information. No doubt Avery had sent the slime up from the dungeons to Lucius for a 'quick interrogation'. What fun.

"That's General Avery to you, Captain Snape." He drawled lazily. He was still very disappointed that he had been disturbed during his reverie.

"Yes sir." The captain curled his lip in distaste. So Snape did not respect Avery. Not really surprising. There were few that did- even Voldemort had sworn in a rage that any half-witted man that could keep his mind on one task for more than ten seconds would be a welcome change to Avery. The piggy General spent more time at the military cabarets than at the planning table. Lucius didn't think he would have been able to tolerate working with such a man. But despite his many lackings, Avery was loyal and would always be loyal so long as there were riches. It was this that kept the General from being killed by Voldemort for his stupidity. Lucius needed no promises of riches, for his life was already opulent beyond his tastes. He, of all Voldemort's followers, knew how hollow and empty such a life could be. Lucius needed no promises for his services. He believed in reality, and his reality was Voldemort. It had always been that way. He had not bothered to wonder what else he might have been if he had not taken the Dark Lord's hand and sworn undying allegiance. Such things hurt his head with sickeningly sweet thoughts of romance and drama. He was no harlequin novel hero. He rubbed his temples in order to quell a rising headache and proceeded in the briefing.

"All right Snape, I want you to summarize our economic situation, our lovely 'political' hold, and resistance problems in less than five minutes. Try to be informative; I have enough of a headache as it is."

"Sir." Snape bit. "Our economic situation, while it could be much worse, is far from optimal. As you know, ever since Voldemort began his campaign in the Norwegian and African regions, the military has had to seize control of farms and factories. We seize produce, meat and dairy for our soldiers before it hits any civilian markets. While it's a cheap way to supply the front lines, it's led to massive inflation in both our currency and the black market- even though smuggling is punishable by death in our military courts. At this point we are looking at a 400% decrease in the value of the reichmark, compared to only a 200% decrease in the English pound. Neutral nations are beginning to refuse our payments for metals and gunpowder. Barter has become this province's currency."

The captain paused for a moment to look at his general. Snape was slightly amazed by the intense stare of his superior, and he felt his knees knock a little bit more. Lucius Malfoy reeked of Voldemort, the unnerving calm, the half-lidded eyes, even the way he smiled. He only prayed that the General did not also posses the Dark Lord's perceptiveness. He knew this briefing was bullshit. He had been sent here for an interrogation, and staring into the cold, pitiless caverns of General Malfoy's eyes was almost as nerve wrenching as a drought of Veritaserum.

"Sir?" he asked, not bringing himself to look the silver-haired man in the face. "Did you have a question?"

Lucius raised a fine eyebrow.

"Yes."

"Sir?"

"Do you think this room would look better with green or red curtains?"

Snape nearly choked on his own saliva. Lucius looked at him seriously, and rose from the chair to pace around the room. The man wasn't kidding. The mere idea of the General asking him for interior advice! As if reading the Potion Master's thoughts Lucius sneered.

"No, I suppose there's no point in asking you, is there? Listen to my reasoning, then. Green is the serpent's color, Slytherin's color, Voldemort's color. It is something that we all wore when attending Hausser. But green is such a nurturing color. It reminds me of meadows and daisies and lambs. It is the color of tradition, of all that we have followed. Red. Red is the color of energy and passion. The color of blood. Red is what we have become Severus. Red is a fabulous color, Severus, and to truly appreciate it you must appreciate the very fluid that runs through your veins."

The General turned slowly to face Snape.

"Have you ever seen someone bleed to death, captain? It's beautiful. Sometimes they twitch; usually they hold their hands up to where the wound is inflicted. As if that could close up the holes."

Snape stared, blinked, and sweat some more. Lucius never ranted. There was a point to this rather graphic description, and he wasn't sure he liked where it was going.

"No, sir. I just work in the Ministry. W-Why do you-"

Lucius took two large steps toward Severus, until their noses almost touched.

"Which color are you loyal to, Severus? The color of tradition and lambs, or the color of passion and blood? Which will you wave in the air when Armageddon comes? Which holds your conscience?"

Severus felt his sweat freeze. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his heart. *Breathe.  Keep your eyes closed. Don't let him see your eyes. God. He's very close. You've had a crush on him since your first year in Hausser and he's so close. Closer than he's ever been. Don't let him see you now, don't let him see your weakness. You know faggots are sent to Azkaban to be culled. Don't. Let. Him. See. Your. Eyes.* Lucius was trying to pin him down psychologically. Get him to say a few wrong words. Slip up and never be seen again. 

"Do you know what it's like to see someone close to you bleed, Severus?"

Lucius leaned in more, his lips nearly touching Severus' own, his equal height intimidating in its ability to mold to another's so easily. The General opened his mouth the same time Severus did, and their breaths clashed.

"No? I do Severus. Let me tell you what it's like."

He could feel the cold emanating from Malfoy's lips, and he felt nauseous. It was as though he were standing a hair's width from a corpse, the deadness in Malfoy's voice and the smell of rocks and earth and tombs. He wheezed, and made to step away, but he found his back against the crusty wall.

"Did I ever tell you what happened to her, Severus? She had a family home in France that she visited shortly after its annexation into the Empire. She was staying there alone. Draco was at school, I was in Berlin. Somehow, the Resistance learned of her whereabouts. They were too weak to attack an outpost, to cowardly to raid a prison. So they crept up to the house in the early morning and attacked her. They cut off all her fingers and her nose and hung her from the entrance by pounding six-inch nails through her body. She was left to bleed to death. Having received no word from her for a week, I returned to the manor in France to find her rotting corpse pounded to the door."

Lucius moved forward so that his lips touched Snape's. It was not a kiss; it was simply the meeting of skin on clammy skin. It was an invasion of space, and for a moment Severus thought Lucius was inside him, inside his mind, sucking all common sense out of his skull.

"She was innocent, Snape. She knew of none of my crimes. Narcissa…was innocent. And a spy in the Third Reich took her away from me. A spy and the Resistance. A motley crew of cowards and thugs. She bled to death Snape, while birds picked at her eyes, and men had their way with her. She bled to death so that there might be a crimson flag that I can wave over the bodies of my enemies. Tell me Snape. Would you choose idealism over the blood of your love? Would you kill an innocent for the sake of morality? Do you even know what morality is?"

Lucius stepped back, his half-lidded eyes not once revealing his thoughts. He turned once more and strode to the door.

"We will continue this briefing tomorrow. Seven o'clock sharp." And then the Hyperion was gone, and with him went the deadness that Snape had felt in his heart.

It was a long while before he could open his eyes again.

Fin.

Author's Notes:

Next Chapter: Harry and Draco go on their journeys. No plot so far, but it will get there. Thank for being patient.

Review and I'll give you a cookie.

LMC