* * * *
Snape sat on the edge of his bed, determined not to let his thoughts turn to The Five because they would inevitably lead him to Voldemort. Never before had he guarded his thoughts so carefully, but he was no longer the only one his emotions affected. If he were to let himself get lost in old memories, painful memories, Kendra would be drawn in, her heart would hurt as much as his.
With a heavy sigh, Snape stood and went to the small desk under his window. The papers he had assigned a week ago to his seventh year Potions class were sitting there, waiting to be marked. He had wanted to complete them that night but his mind was wandering and even as he tried to focus on the papers he knew it was useless. His thoughts roamed to his past, travelled to a time that he prayed he would one day not remember.
"Voldemort." The name escaped his lips before he even realized that he had said it. It was hopeless to hold back now, his mind had already decided where it was going. Snape sunk to the desk chair with a groan and flew backward in time . . .
. . . Severus Snape stood over the trembling form of Janet Logan, a young witch. She was only twenty four, but her power was immense, radiating out over her entire body. Snape himself was quite a bit younger than she was, but within moments he would have her under the Imperius curse and all that power would be at his disposal. His fingers itched to remove his wand from his cloak, but he held off, waiting for the right moment.
"Don't, please," she begged, tears collecting in the corners of her dark eyes. "Severus, please don't do this."
Snape glared at her. She had spoken his name, talked to him as if they had been the best of friend. It disgusted and angered him, the lengths to which people would go in order to save their lives. "Don't speak to you as if you know me."
"B-but we were at Hogwarts together," Janet tried again. "We were friends."
"I have no friends," he spat angrily at her. "Only Voldemort."
Janet shook her head pitifully, her hair falling into her eyes. Snape had her backed up against the wall of a Muggle bar in London. Music pulsed around them and dancing bodies jostled Snape every few seconds, though his eye contact with Janet never broke. He hated venturing into the Muggle world, but Voldemort craved the power that lay within Janet Logan's body. Snape would do anything for the Dark Lord, he was a Death Eater; it was his job.
His wand was concealed in the long, dark coat that he was wearing, the end of it pointed at Janet Logan's chest. His dark eyes sparkled, hard, cold stones in his pale face. Snape felt a twinge of guilt and disgust for a brief second at how much he was enjoying the fear on Janet's face, but he shook it off quickly. They had treated him like dirt, he had been nothing to them in school and now he was going to show them exactly what he was. He would show them everything that he could be.
Snape's fingers tightened around his wand and he leaned in to watch Janet's face. Her eyes danced with fear, a bead of sweat trickled down her temple and her body shook.
He grinned, his face haunting and empty. Janet Logan would never forget the look in his eyes as he leaned close, his mouth still twisted into the hideous smile, and whispered, "Imperio."
Janet's eyes went wide and she tried to scream, but in seconds her body was completely under Snape's control. Her limbs went rigid and she stood by his side, absolutely still.
"Come with me," he hissed in her ear, then mentally gave directions to Janet's body. He could still see the fear in her eyes as they walked from the bar, every time they darted past his face he could see the tears that threatened to spill.
With a simple mental command, Snape forced the tears from her eyes. A strangled sob escaped Janet's throat as they stepped into the street and he turned on her suddenly.
"Shut up!" Snape growled sharply, twisting her arm behind her back with his mind. "You'll shut up and do as I say. Do you understand me?"
Knowing that she couldn't even control her own head in order to nod, Snape grabbed her twisted arm and forced her to follow him down the walk. They walked in silence, Snape's hand fastened tightly on her arm. Within seconds, he could sense that Janet knew where he was leading her and she tried desperately to resist. She was a powerful witch and Snape had to strain in order to keep control over her body.
"No, please," the words escaped her mouth and Snape's lips tightened in anger.
"Imperio," he hissed again, this time pushing for greater control over her body, but his spell seemed to have been broken permanently. Snape secretly thanked whoever was responsible for the empty street that night as he dragged Janet Logan to her death, kicking and screaming to God . . .
. . . Snape shivered violently as he snapped out of his memory, forcing himself to return to the present. He wanted Kendra and the others to enjoy their All Hallow's Eve Ball, he didn't want to ruin it for them.
With a sigh, he ran his hands through his hair and stood from the desk chair. He had to find something to take his mind off his past . . . anything to keep him from remembering. Snape took his cloak off the back of his chair and threw it over his shoulders once more. The Ball may not be his idea of fun, but at least it would take his mind off things.
* * * *
Snape sat on the edge of his bed, determined not to let his thoughts turn to The Five because they would inevitably lead him to Voldemort. Never before had he guarded his thoughts so carefully, but he was no longer the only one his emotions affected. If he were to let himself get lost in old memories, painful memories, Kendra would be drawn in, her heart would hurt as much as his.
With a heavy sigh, Snape stood and went to the small desk under his window. The papers he had assigned a week ago to his seventh year Potions class were sitting there, waiting to be marked. He had wanted to complete them that night but his mind was wandering and even as he tried to focus on the papers he knew it was useless. His thoughts roamed to his past, travelled to a time that he prayed he would one day not remember.
"Voldemort." The name escaped his lips before he even realized that he had said it. It was hopeless to hold back now, his mind had already decided where it was going. Snape sunk to the desk chair with a groan and flew backward in time . . .
. . . Severus Snape stood over the trembling form of Janet Logan, a young witch. She was only twenty four, but her power was immense, radiating out over her entire body. Snape himself was quite a bit younger than she was, but within moments he would have her under the Imperius curse and all that power would be at his disposal. His fingers itched to remove his wand from his cloak, but he held off, waiting for the right moment.
"Don't, please," she begged, tears collecting in the corners of her dark eyes. "Severus, please don't do this."
Snape glared at her. She had spoken his name, talked to him as if they had been the best of friend. It disgusted and angered him, the lengths to which people would go in order to save their lives. "Don't speak to you as if you know me."
"B-but we were at Hogwarts together," Janet tried again. "We were friends."
"I have no friends," he spat angrily at her. "Only Voldemort."
Janet shook her head pitifully, her hair falling into her eyes. Snape had her backed up against the wall of a Muggle bar in London. Music pulsed around them and dancing bodies jostled Snape every few seconds, though his eye contact with Janet never broke. He hated venturing into the Muggle world, but Voldemort craved the power that lay within Janet Logan's body. Snape would do anything for the Dark Lord, he was a Death Eater; it was his job.
His wand was concealed in the long, dark coat that he was wearing, the end of it pointed at Janet Logan's chest. His dark eyes sparkled, hard, cold stones in his pale face. Snape felt a twinge of guilt and disgust for a brief second at how much he was enjoying the fear on Janet's face, but he shook it off quickly. They had treated him like dirt, he had been nothing to them in school and now he was going to show them exactly what he was. He would show them everything that he could be.
Snape's fingers tightened around his wand and he leaned in to watch Janet's face. Her eyes danced with fear, a bead of sweat trickled down her temple and her body shook.
He grinned, his face haunting and empty. Janet Logan would never forget the look in his eyes as he leaned close, his mouth still twisted into the hideous smile, and whispered, "Imperio."
Janet's eyes went wide and she tried to scream, but in seconds her body was completely under Snape's control. Her limbs went rigid and she stood by his side, absolutely still.
"Come with me," he hissed in her ear, then mentally gave directions to Janet's body. He could still see the fear in her eyes as they walked from the bar, every time they darted past his face he could see the tears that threatened to spill.
With a simple mental command, Snape forced the tears from her eyes. A strangled sob escaped Janet's throat as they stepped into the street and he turned on her suddenly.
"Shut up!" Snape growled sharply, twisting her arm behind her back with his mind. "You'll shut up and do as I say. Do you understand me?"
Knowing that she couldn't even control her own head in order to nod, Snape grabbed her twisted arm and forced her to follow him down the walk. They walked in silence, Snape's hand fastened tightly on her arm. Within seconds, he could sense that Janet knew where he was leading her and she tried desperately to resist. She was a powerful witch and Snape had to strain in order to keep control over her body.
"No, please," the words escaped her mouth and Snape's lips tightened in anger.
"Imperio," he hissed again, this time pushing for greater control over her body, but his spell seemed to have been broken permanently. Snape secretly thanked whoever was responsible for the empty street that night as he dragged Janet Logan to her death, kicking and screaming to God . . .
. . . Snape shivered violently as he snapped out of his memory, forcing himself to return to the present. He wanted Kendra and the others to enjoy their All Hallow's Eve Ball, he didn't want to ruin it for them.
With a sigh, he ran his hands through his hair and stood from the desk chair. He had to find something to take his mind off his past . . . anything to keep him from remembering. Snape took his cloak off the back of his chair and threw it over his shoulders once more. The Ball may not be his idea of fun, but at least it would take his mind off things.
* * * *