Notes: We're nearing the end my darling readers. Three or four chapters left, at the most. I do hope you've enjoyed reading half as much as I've enjoyed writing this. I'm sad to see it end.
* * * *
Snape's eyes opened slowly and he found himself lying in a familiar room. The carpet was well worn and old, but he recognized it easily by the dark stain near the door. It was his bedroom, the room he had grown up in. Voldemort had brought him to his home and from there he would convince The Five to hand over whatever it was that Dumbledore had given them.
He was lying face down on the floor, the stain just inches away from his head, he could have reached out and touched it, had he wanted to. He didn't want to touch it, he didn't want to be in the same room as the stain, not after the terrifying hallucination he'd experienced the last time he had come home. Snape felt the undeniable urge to move away from the dried blood, but the Death Eater in the room hadn't yet noticed that he was awake.
Snape's dark eyes widened briefly, seeing his wand hanging carelessly from the Death Eater's hand. He didn't seem concerned with the fact that Snape could wake up, and the Potions Master didn't blame him. His body ached in places he hadn't even known could ache and even he was surprised that he had been allowed to slip into consciousness.
Slowly, he placed his hands under his chest, then pushed himself upward, his arms trembling with exertion. They throbbed angrily, his body working overtime to fix the pain and torture he'd been put through. Suppressing the pained moan he felt rising in his throat, Snape soundlessly slipped his legs under his body and slowly rose. He stood for a moment, trying to regain his sense of balance, as the Death Eater wordlessly twirled Snape's wand in his fingers. With his back to Snape, he hadn't seen or heard the man get up and that would be his biggest mistake.
When he finally felt like he could move without falling to his knees, Snape crept over to the Death Eater and plucked his wand from his fingers. The young man tried to turn, but Snape shoved the end of his wand against his neck and made a disapproving sound in his throat.
"You might not want to do that," he said, his voice low and angry. Through his pain, he wouldn't have been able to raise his voice much louder than it was, but the low tones made him sound far more threatening than he felt.
"Voldemort will get you. You won't get far," the Death Eater mumbled.
"Who said I wanted to go anywhere?" Snape asked. "I just want to make sure that you don't say anything about this. Obliviate," he murmured.
The Death Eater slumped forward in his chair and his eyes went glassy.
Snape moved away slightly and said, "Petrificus Totalus."
The Death Eater went rigid and toppled out of the chair. The sound was muffled by the thick carpet and Snape stared at him for a long moment before moving.
With a look of grim determination on his face, Snape limped toward the bedroom door, purposely avoiding the dark stain. He had to drag his left leg along behind him as one of the curses had made it permanently numb. He hoped that once they got back to Hogwarts . . . if they got back to Hogwarts, Madam Pomfrey would be able to fix it for him.
As he opened the door, his head spun and for a moment he thought he might pass out again, but soon enough the feeling passed and he entered the hallway. From somewhere below he could hear Voldemort giving directions to his remaining Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy started in on something and Snape was momentarily surprised to hear his voice, he thought Dumbledore would have disposed of him while he was with The Five.
Ignoring the voices, Snape slipped into the next room, his parents bedroom, and closed the door gently behind him. He wasn't looking for a place to hide, just somewhere to regain what little strength he had.
He lowered himself to the edge of the old bed that still remained in the abandoned house and put his head in his hands. His wand trembled slightly and he realized, not for the first time, how weak he really was. If The Five needed his help, he wasn't sure he'd be able to do anything of significance. They truly were on their own once they entered the house. Voldemort would stop at nothing to retrieve their talisman and with the threat of Snape's death hanging over their heads, he wasn't sure how certain they'd be in their decision.
"Just destroy him," he whispered to the darkness, knowing they couldn't hear him. "Don't think about me . . . just destroy him."
* * * *
Voldemort paced the dirty living room, stepping around overturned furniture and random pieces of garbage left behind by Muggle teenagers who had used the abandoned home as a hangout. The room was silent, with the exception of Voldemort's heavy footsteps on the floor, his boots grinding into the filth. The Death Eaters stood calmly and patiently, their hands clasped before them, their wands held tightly and their hoods pulled over thier faces.
Lucius Malfoy was on the end, nudging a broken beer bottle with his toe. His face was calm, but his eyes were still mad and the insanity leaked through his body, down to his twitching fingers. Voldemort feared he would not be able to rely on one of his most faithful followers because of this madness. There was no telling what Lucius would do when those children stepped through the front door.
"Lucius," Voldemort said, cocking his finger toward him. "Over here."
Lucius stared at him for a moment, then stepped out of the line and pushed down his hood. He walked carefully over to the Dark Lord, stood calmly in front of him and looked up.
"Draco is dead," Voldemort stated. "Join him. Avada Kedavra."
Over the rushing sound and the blinding light, Voldemort could hear gasps of shock and yells of anger from the other Death Eaters. It was as much a demonstration of power as it was his way of getting rid of a wavering ally. The others would never have expected him to kill Lucius Malfoy, and yet his rigid body was now lying face up on the floor.
"Let this be a lesson," Voldemort said, "take nothing personally. Everything comes back to me in the end and if you don't learn than, you'll be next."
Leaving Lucius where he lay, Voldemort moved toward the window and looked outside. Beyond the trees and the houses, an orange line began to appear on the horizon as the sun threatened to burst over.
"They will be here soon," he murmured, smiling to himself.
* * * *
* * * *
Snape's eyes opened slowly and he found himself lying in a familiar room. The carpet was well worn and old, but he recognized it easily by the dark stain near the door. It was his bedroom, the room he had grown up in. Voldemort had brought him to his home and from there he would convince The Five to hand over whatever it was that Dumbledore had given them.
He was lying face down on the floor, the stain just inches away from his head, he could have reached out and touched it, had he wanted to. He didn't want to touch it, he didn't want to be in the same room as the stain, not after the terrifying hallucination he'd experienced the last time he had come home. Snape felt the undeniable urge to move away from the dried blood, but the Death Eater in the room hadn't yet noticed that he was awake.
Snape's dark eyes widened briefly, seeing his wand hanging carelessly from the Death Eater's hand. He didn't seem concerned with the fact that Snape could wake up, and the Potions Master didn't blame him. His body ached in places he hadn't even known could ache and even he was surprised that he had been allowed to slip into consciousness.
Slowly, he placed his hands under his chest, then pushed himself upward, his arms trembling with exertion. They throbbed angrily, his body working overtime to fix the pain and torture he'd been put through. Suppressing the pained moan he felt rising in his throat, Snape soundlessly slipped his legs under his body and slowly rose. He stood for a moment, trying to regain his sense of balance, as the Death Eater wordlessly twirled Snape's wand in his fingers. With his back to Snape, he hadn't seen or heard the man get up and that would be his biggest mistake.
When he finally felt like he could move without falling to his knees, Snape crept over to the Death Eater and plucked his wand from his fingers. The young man tried to turn, but Snape shoved the end of his wand against his neck and made a disapproving sound in his throat.
"You might not want to do that," he said, his voice low and angry. Through his pain, he wouldn't have been able to raise his voice much louder than it was, but the low tones made him sound far more threatening than he felt.
"Voldemort will get you. You won't get far," the Death Eater mumbled.
"Who said I wanted to go anywhere?" Snape asked. "I just want to make sure that you don't say anything about this. Obliviate," he murmured.
The Death Eater slumped forward in his chair and his eyes went glassy.
Snape moved away slightly and said, "Petrificus Totalus."
The Death Eater went rigid and toppled out of the chair. The sound was muffled by the thick carpet and Snape stared at him for a long moment before moving.
With a look of grim determination on his face, Snape limped toward the bedroom door, purposely avoiding the dark stain. He had to drag his left leg along behind him as one of the curses had made it permanently numb. He hoped that once they got back to Hogwarts . . . if they got back to Hogwarts, Madam Pomfrey would be able to fix it for him.
As he opened the door, his head spun and for a moment he thought he might pass out again, but soon enough the feeling passed and he entered the hallway. From somewhere below he could hear Voldemort giving directions to his remaining Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy started in on something and Snape was momentarily surprised to hear his voice, he thought Dumbledore would have disposed of him while he was with The Five.
Ignoring the voices, Snape slipped into the next room, his parents bedroom, and closed the door gently behind him. He wasn't looking for a place to hide, just somewhere to regain what little strength he had.
He lowered himself to the edge of the old bed that still remained in the abandoned house and put his head in his hands. His wand trembled slightly and he realized, not for the first time, how weak he really was. If The Five needed his help, he wasn't sure he'd be able to do anything of significance. They truly were on their own once they entered the house. Voldemort would stop at nothing to retrieve their talisman and with the threat of Snape's death hanging over their heads, he wasn't sure how certain they'd be in their decision.
"Just destroy him," he whispered to the darkness, knowing they couldn't hear him. "Don't think about me . . . just destroy him."
* * * *
Voldemort paced the dirty living room, stepping around overturned furniture and random pieces of garbage left behind by Muggle teenagers who had used the abandoned home as a hangout. The room was silent, with the exception of Voldemort's heavy footsteps on the floor, his boots grinding into the filth. The Death Eaters stood calmly and patiently, their hands clasped before them, their wands held tightly and their hoods pulled over thier faces.
Lucius Malfoy was on the end, nudging a broken beer bottle with his toe. His face was calm, but his eyes were still mad and the insanity leaked through his body, down to his twitching fingers. Voldemort feared he would not be able to rely on one of his most faithful followers because of this madness. There was no telling what Lucius would do when those children stepped through the front door.
"Lucius," Voldemort said, cocking his finger toward him. "Over here."
Lucius stared at him for a moment, then stepped out of the line and pushed down his hood. He walked carefully over to the Dark Lord, stood calmly in front of him and looked up.
"Draco is dead," Voldemort stated. "Join him. Avada Kedavra."
Over the rushing sound and the blinding light, Voldemort could hear gasps of shock and yells of anger from the other Death Eaters. It was as much a demonstration of power as it was his way of getting rid of a wavering ally. The others would never have expected him to kill Lucius Malfoy, and yet his rigid body was now lying face up on the floor.
"Let this be a lesson," Voldemort said, "take nothing personally. Everything comes back to me in the end and if you don't learn than, you'll be next."
Leaving Lucius where he lay, Voldemort moved toward the window and looked outside. Beyond the trees and the houses, an orange line began to appear on the horizon as the sun threatened to burst over.
"They will be here soon," he murmured, smiling to himself.
* * * *