Chapter Eight: Anything Goes
The weekend came with shuddering swiftness, swirled with futile memories, hot tears, and illicit moments with Lucius. For Severus, he was about to take the first step down the same road so many others had taken in the service of Voldemort. He wondered vaguely where his road would end.
But the end didn't matter any more. All that mattered was that he would not be alone as he walked. Lucius would be there. Each step they took would be matched in rhythm and stride. It was a comforting thought to a young boy faced with a dark destiny.
Once the final class was ended, Lucius and Severus slipped off to the edge of Hogwarts grounds to Apparate to the Malfoy Manor, where the ceremony was to take place. The younger boy gripped his friend's hand tightly, his palm turning sweaty. Lucius squeezed his hand. "What's wrong?"
"Just... nothing. I'm fine."
"Don't be scared," whispered Lucius. "It'll only hurt for a bit. And I'll kiss it better for you later." He grinned. "Alright?"
He managed a weak smile. "Alright."
Together, they Apparated away, appearing moments later at the entryway inside Malfoy Manor. Severus stared around in awe. He had never been to Lucius' house, save for the former offer of spending the summer with him. It was, in a word, huge. His own family home had been quite grand, but even that was nothing compared to the grandeur of this place. No wonder Voldemort chose to hold meetings here... it was perhaps the most lavish and sizable building around, next to Hogwarts.
His mouth dropped open slightly at the six massive chandeliers that hung overhead, lighting the way down the entryway. Lucius, half-laughing at his friend, tugged on his hand. "Come on, Sev. We don't want to be late. He hates that." Though the little Snape seemed so old most of the time, there were still moments where his youthful innocence shone through, reminding Lucius that he was still just a boy, barely into his teens.
He didn't like the reminder and abruptly dropped Snape's hand, striding away ahead of him. "Lucius..."
"I said to hurry up," he snapped, his outer cloak billowing out behind him. His long legs gave him a quick, even gait, one that Snape's clumsy, hurrying limbs could not hope to match. He watched Lucius with envy, wondering if he would ever move so swiftly and silently. He bit his lip in frustration and tried to keep up without protest.
Lucius wound the way through the house, descending several flights of stairs until coming to what must be the very heart and bowels of the manor. The floor and walls were solid stone and lit with flickering torches that allowed him to see the firelight glinting faintly off of Lucius' blonde hair.
His hands clasped behind him, he stopped at the door he had reached and turned an impatient face towards Severus. "Are you coming or not?"
Snape swallowed and slowed to a stop next to the boy. "Sorry..."
"I don't want your excuses, Severus. You can't be some child at play here. This is serious. Voldemort won't put up with you the way I do." Snape didn't know what to say. Had he done something wrong? He didn't think he had. Perhaps he should apologize, just in case.
"I'm sorry."
It didn't work. Lucius' cold eyes hardened even more. "You're sorry? What do you think that will do for you, silly boy? Nothing, I'll tell you that right now. I can't just protect you forever, you know. You've got to grow up, and fast, or you might as well just turn around and go back to Hogwarts right now."
If Snape would have been the emotional type, he might have allowed himself to cry. But he wasn't, and so he stepped forward, desperately close to Lucius, and glared back up at him. "Are you going to let me in or not?"
The cold exterior fell and Lucius sighed. "Don't be afraid."
"I'm not." Overly confidant words for a boy whose insides felt like they were twisted beyond recognition. But his eyes betrayed nothing, even to Malfoy's fierce perusal.
He opened the door, and whispered, "I'll be out here waiting." Those words almost caused Snape to stop. Waiting? He wouldn't go in with him to face Voldemort? Wouldn't be there when he received his mark, wouldn't be there to watch with silent support in his grey eyes? "It'll be okay," he said again, reaching down to briefly squeeze Severus' hand. "It will."
And so, alone and nearly petrified with apprehension, Snape stepped into the room to face the Dark Lord and his strong Inner Circle of followers.
"Young Master Snape," crooned a voice near the front of the room. Snape glanced at him. Tall, dark-haired, slim, robed in flowing cloaks. His long fingers turned a smooth, dark wand over and over, restlessly. "Right on time, I see." He turned, revealing for the first time his face. He was in his thirties, perhaps. He was handsome and knew it as well, with chiseled features and sharp green eyes. But the eyes betrayed his outward appearance. His eyes were pure evil, longing for power by any means possible. "Your young friend told us that you would be coming. We've been anxious to see you, seeing as how we shall become your new family."
For the first time, Snape's eyes pulled away from the Dark Lord and focused instead on the rest of those gathered. There were perhaps twenty to thirty Death Eaters in the room, each void of identity, due to the concealing robes and white masks they wore. He wondered who was among them... Lucius' parents, surely. He didn't know of any others in the Inner Circle.
"So curious to meet your new parents, Severus?" asked Voldemort's chuckling voice. "You will, eventually. But we must be secretive, mustn't we? Wouldn't want to expose all our secrets before we're ready." He laughed again, a rolling, confident sound. He crooked a finger at Snape. "Come closer, my boy. Don't worry, I don't bite hard. Besides, I'm quite certain that you still bear several of Lucius' marks from your last joining."
Snape's head snapped up at this. The laugh came again, more delighted this time.
"Oh yes, I know of your secret affairs. If you thought you could hide that from me, well... you've got quite a bit of learning to do. I have eyes..." He raised his arms, his broad palms facing up, and gestured around him. "Everywhere." The Dark Lord turned a favorable smile to the young boy. "Now come here and let's not drag this on any more than necessary, shall we?"
"No, my Lord," he breathed, his legs carrying him, seemingly of their own accord, towards the front of the large room.
"Remove your shirt." He suddenly found a rather tall Death Eater standing behind him, sliding him out of his cloak and waiting for him to continue. Mechanically, his fingers obeyed the order, fumblingly undoing the row of buttons before easing out of the material. The Death Eater took the garment from him and backed away to his (or her?) own spot in the circle.
Though still half-dressed, he felt naked in front of them, vulnerable. With his black robes at least, he had at least felt some semblance of blending in, but now his pale skin set him apart from the blackness... singled him out, targeted him for attack. Nervously, he reached up to tuck the long strands of his hair behind his ears.
When Voldemort turned to face him again, he had drawn his hood over his head, concealing most of his face. But Snape could still see those glittering green eyes, scheming and plotting. "Severus Snape," he said, his voice ominous, like a storm cloud on the horizon. "Have you come before us, and more importantly, before me of your own accord?"
"Yes." His voice was barely a whisper, yet it seemed to echo against the walls.
"And do you intend to serve me loyally until death itself takes you from my side, on punishment of extreme pain and ultimate death?"
"Yes."
"And do you swear to preserve the secrets and identities of your fellow disciples of the Cause, on pain of suffering greater than you have ever known?"
He whet his lips with an equally dry tongue, and still could barely get the syllable past his throat. "... yes..."
"Then kneel to your Lord and Master and extend to me your left arm." He did so, trying desperately to control his trembling. Voldemort grasped Snape's wrist with uncanny strength, holding the limb firm as he gripped his wand in his other hand. "I feel I should warn you, young Snape, that if you have indeed answered all three questions quite truthfully, the process should go as planned. However, if you have not..." he tilted his head, an evil smirk tugging at his mouth, "then this is going to hurt like hell." Without further warning, he brought his hand down and pressed the wand tip to Snape's forearm.
Lucius, who had been watching from the barely-open door, cringed as every muscle in Severus' body seemed to go into immediate spasm. But Snape didn't cry out, though unwanted tears streamed down his face as the Mark burned its way mercilessly onto his skin. His body shook from the unrelenting pain, but Voldemort never released his hold on his wrist. Lucius couldn't watch any longer. He backed into a corner and wrapped his arms around his knees. Perhaps it had been a mistake to bring Severus... perhaps his father was wrong... he was still just a boy... not strong enough for the Lord.
Snape found his eyes locked with Voldemort's, his black ones wide and pained, the green ones mocking and cruel as the wand dug savagely into pale skin. A moment later, it was over. Voldemort released his hold and straightened, leering down at Snape's shaking form. The boy braced himself on his right arm, determined to not let his body sag to the ground. He would not fall.
"Well," crooned Voldemort. "It went according to plan after all. Very good." He pushed back his hood and turned to the Death Eater closest to him. "Chloris, would you tell your young son that he can cease eavesdropping from the door and join us?" Before his mother could speak, the door had opened fully and Lucius entered, his gaze fastened on the shuddering figure of Snape. "Lucius... fetch him his robe and mask."
Wordlessly, the young Malfoy obeyed, kneeling next to Snape to place the white mask over his face. Black eyes stared up at him, but he couldn't read the expression. He draped the black robe over Severus' shoulders. "Can you stand?" he whispered, and received a slight nod in answer. The two rose to their feet together, Snape keeping a hand on Lucius arm for balance. His center seemed distorted and with every step he felt as if the world was rocking beneath his feet.
Voldemort waited until the two boys had joined the circle before glancing around with a bored expression. "Get out of my sight, all of you," he growled. The Death Eaters formed a line in front of the Dark Lord to bid him farewell. Each in turn would drop to their knees and kiss the hem of his robes before crawling away and Apparating with a 'pop.'
One of them had barely reached out to touch his clothing when his foot struck out, dealing a sharp blow to the prone form and sending it rolling away. "You have been far too long in fulfilling my wishes, Rosier. Delay any longer and I may find other ways of punishing you."
"Yes, my Lord," rasped the quavering voice before he too disappeared.
Chloris Malfoy was the last to kiss his robes. As she stood, he spoke to her. "Where is your husband tonight?"
"Working, my Lord."
"Our work?"
"Always."
"Good, good. Now listen to me. I want you to take the young Snape into your home. He has much to learn, you are aware?"
"Yes, Lucius has told us." She glanced at Severus, who was staring intently at them. "We will arrange to have your things sent here." He nodded slowly, his head still throbbing. "Anything else, my Lord?"
"Yes... but the children must leave us." Lucius stepped forward and dropped to the ground as the others had, pressing his lips to the dark fabric in a servile gesture of respect. Snape did the same before following after his friend. He glanced behind him as they went out the door. Voldemort and Chloris stood close together, but even still the Dark Lord's words drifted to Snape's ears with frightful clarity. "Lucius," he said in his soft, dangerous voice, "must take a bride..."
* * *
Upstairs, in Lucius' bed, Snape lay staring at the ceiling, going over again in his head what he had heard. The blonde turned, wrapping his arm across Severus' pale stomach. "Still hurt?"
"What?" he asked, distracted.
"The Mark? Does it still hurt?"
"...no..."
Lucius propped himself up on his elbow. "What's wrong, then?"
"I'm just thinking."
He flopped back against the pillows with a sigh. "Don't think, Sev. I can't sleep when you think."
"That's ridiculous."
"You're the ridiculous one." He poked Severus gently in the side. "Just go to sleep." He pulled Severus closer, resting his pale head next to the dark one. "Isn't it great?" he whispered, his voice purring through the silence.
"What?"
"You'll be staying. Not just for the summer either. For forever."
Forever. How long was forever? Until Lucius tired of the sulking Snape and oh-so-politely asked him to leave? Or maybe until Lucius and his blushing bride took over Malfoy Manor and had a drove of little blonde-haired brats running around underfoot? Then would forever be over?
"Isn't it great, Sev?" he prodded, punctuating his question with a yawn.
Snape closed his eyes, trying to ignore the steady burning on his forearm. "Just great."
END CHAPTER EIGHT
The weekend came with shuddering swiftness, swirled with futile memories, hot tears, and illicit moments with Lucius. For Severus, he was about to take the first step down the same road so many others had taken in the service of Voldemort. He wondered vaguely where his road would end.
But the end didn't matter any more. All that mattered was that he would not be alone as he walked. Lucius would be there. Each step they took would be matched in rhythm and stride. It was a comforting thought to a young boy faced with a dark destiny.
Once the final class was ended, Lucius and Severus slipped off to the edge of Hogwarts grounds to Apparate to the Malfoy Manor, where the ceremony was to take place. The younger boy gripped his friend's hand tightly, his palm turning sweaty. Lucius squeezed his hand. "What's wrong?"
"Just... nothing. I'm fine."
"Don't be scared," whispered Lucius. "It'll only hurt for a bit. And I'll kiss it better for you later." He grinned. "Alright?"
He managed a weak smile. "Alright."
Together, they Apparated away, appearing moments later at the entryway inside Malfoy Manor. Severus stared around in awe. He had never been to Lucius' house, save for the former offer of spending the summer with him. It was, in a word, huge. His own family home had been quite grand, but even that was nothing compared to the grandeur of this place. No wonder Voldemort chose to hold meetings here... it was perhaps the most lavish and sizable building around, next to Hogwarts.
His mouth dropped open slightly at the six massive chandeliers that hung overhead, lighting the way down the entryway. Lucius, half-laughing at his friend, tugged on his hand. "Come on, Sev. We don't want to be late. He hates that." Though the little Snape seemed so old most of the time, there were still moments where his youthful innocence shone through, reminding Lucius that he was still just a boy, barely into his teens.
He didn't like the reminder and abruptly dropped Snape's hand, striding away ahead of him. "Lucius..."
"I said to hurry up," he snapped, his outer cloak billowing out behind him. His long legs gave him a quick, even gait, one that Snape's clumsy, hurrying limbs could not hope to match. He watched Lucius with envy, wondering if he would ever move so swiftly and silently. He bit his lip in frustration and tried to keep up without protest.
Lucius wound the way through the house, descending several flights of stairs until coming to what must be the very heart and bowels of the manor. The floor and walls were solid stone and lit with flickering torches that allowed him to see the firelight glinting faintly off of Lucius' blonde hair.
His hands clasped behind him, he stopped at the door he had reached and turned an impatient face towards Severus. "Are you coming or not?"
Snape swallowed and slowed to a stop next to the boy. "Sorry..."
"I don't want your excuses, Severus. You can't be some child at play here. This is serious. Voldemort won't put up with you the way I do." Snape didn't know what to say. Had he done something wrong? He didn't think he had. Perhaps he should apologize, just in case.
"I'm sorry."
It didn't work. Lucius' cold eyes hardened even more. "You're sorry? What do you think that will do for you, silly boy? Nothing, I'll tell you that right now. I can't just protect you forever, you know. You've got to grow up, and fast, or you might as well just turn around and go back to Hogwarts right now."
If Snape would have been the emotional type, he might have allowed himself to cry. But he wasn't, and so he stepped forward, desperately close to Lucius, and glared back up at him. "Are you going to let me in or not?"
The cold exterior fell and Lucius sighed. "Don't be afraid."
"I'm not." Overly confidant words for a boy whose insides felt like they were twisted beyond recognition. But his eyes betrayed nothing, even to Malfoy's fierce perusal.
He opened the door, and whispered, "I'll be out here waiting." Those words almost caused Snape to stop. Waiting? He wouldn't go in with him to face Voldemort? Wouldn't be there when he received his mark, wouldn't be there to watch with silent support in his grey eyes? "It'll be okay," he said again, reaching down to briefly squeeze Severus' hand. "It will."
And so, alone and nearly petrified with apprehension, Snape stepped into the room to face the Dark Lord and his strong Inner Circle of followers.
"Young Master Snape," crooned a voice near the front of the room. Snape glanced at him. Tall, dark-haired, slim, robed in flowing cloaks. His long fingers turned a smooth, dark wand over and over, restlessly. "Right on time, I see." He turned, revealing for the first time his face. He was in his thirties, perhaps. He was handsome and knew it as well, with chiseled features and sharp green eyes. But the eyes betrayed his outward appearance. His eyes were pure evil, longing for power by any means possible. "Your young friend told us that you would be coming. We've been anxious to see you, seeing as how we shall become your new family."
For the first time, Snape's eyes pulled away from the Dark Lord and focused instead on the rest of those gathered. There were perhaps twenty to thirty Death Eaters in the room, each void of identity, due to the concealing robes and white masks they wore. He wondered who was among them... Lucius' parents, surely. He didn't know of any others in the Inner Circle.
"So curious to meet your new parents, Severus?" asked Voldemort's chuckling voice. "You will, eventually. But we must be secretive, mustn't we? Wouldn't want to expose all our secrets before we're ready." He laughed again, a rolling, confident sound. He crooked a finger at Snape. "Come closer, my boy. Don't worry, I don't bite hard. Besides, I'm quite certain that you still bear several of Lucius' marks from your last joining."
Snape's head snapped up at this. The laugh came again, more delighted this time.
"Oh yes, I know of your secret affairs. If you thought you could hide that from me, well... you've got quite a bit of learning to do. I have eyes..." He raised his arms, his broad palms facing up, and gestured around him. "Everywhere." The Dark Lord turned a favorable smile to the young boy. "Now come here and let's not drag this on any more than necessary, shall we?"
"No, my Lord," he breathed, his legs carrying him, seemingly of their own accord, towards the front of the large room.
"Remove your shirt." He suddenly found a rather tall Death Eater standing behind him, sliding him out of his cloak and waiting for him to continue. Mechanically, his fingers obeyed the order, fumblingly undoing the row of buttons before easing out of the material. The Death Eater took the garment from him and backed away to his (or her?) own spot in the circle.
Though still half-dressed, he felt naked in front of them, vulnerable. With his black robes at least, he had at least felt some semblance of blending in, but now his pale skin set him apart from the blackness... singled him out, targeted him for attack. Nervously, he reached up to tuck the long strands of his hair behind his ears.
When Voldemort turned to face him again, he had drawn his hood over his head, concealing most of his face. But Snape could still see those glittering green eyes, scheming and plotting. "Severus Snape," he said, his voice ominous, like a storm cloud on the horizon. "Have you come before us, and more importantly, before me of your own accord?"
"Yes." His voice was barely a whisper, yet it seemed to echo against the walls.
"And do you intend to serve me loyally until death itself takes you from my side, on punishment of extreme pain and ultimate death?"
"Yes."
"And do you swear to preserve the secrets and identities of your fellow disciples of the Cause, on pain of suffering greater than you have ever known?"
He whet his lips with an equally dry tongue, and still could barely get the syllable past his throat. "... yes..."
"Then kneel to your Lord and Master and extend to me your left arm." He did so, trying desperately to control his trembling. Voldemort grasped Snape's wrist with uncanny strength, holding the limb firm as he gripped his wand in his other hand. "I feel I should warn you, young Snape, that if you have indeed answered all three questions quite truthfully, the process should go as planned. However, if you have not..." he tilted his head, an evil smirk tugging at his mouth, "then this is going to hurt like hell." Without further warning, he brought his hand down and pressed the wand tip to Snape's forearm.
Lucius, who had been watching from the barely-open door, cringed as every muscle in Severus' body seemed to go into immediate spasm. But Snape didn't cry out, though unwanted tears streamed down his face as the Mark burned its way mercilessly onto his skin. His body shook from the unrelenting pain, but Voldemort never released his hold on his wrist. Lucius couldn't watch any longer. He backed into a corner and wrapped his arms around his knees. Perhaps it had been a mistake to bring Severus... perhaps his father was wrong... he was still just a boy... not strong enough for the Lord.
Snape found his eyes locked with Voldemort's, his black ones wide and pained, the green ones mocking and cruel as the wand dug savagely into pale skin. A moment later, it was over. Voldemort released his hold and straightened, leering down at Snape's shaking form. The boy braced himself on his right arm, determined to not let his body sag to the ground. He would not fall.
"Well," crooned Voldemort. "It went according to plan after all. Very good." He pushed back his hood and turned to the Death Eater closest to him. "Chloris, would you tell your young son that he can cease eavesdropping from the door and join us?" Before his mother could speak, the door had opened fully and Lucius entered, his gaze fastened on the shuddering figure of Snape. "Lucius... fetch him his robe and mask."
Wordlessly, the young Malfoy obeyed, kneeling next to Snape to place the white mask over his face. Black eyes stared up at him, but he couldn't read the expression. He draped the black robe over Severus' shoulders. "Can you stand?" he whispered, and received a slight nod in answer. The two rose to their feet together, Snape keeping a hand on Lucius arm for balance. His center seemed distorted and with every step he felt as if the world was rocking beneath his feet.
Voldemort waited until the two boys had joined the circle before glancing around with a bored expression. "Get out of my sight, all of you," he growled. The Death Eaters formed a line in front of the Dark Lord to bid him farewell. Each in turn would drop to their knees and kiss the hem of his robes before crawling away and Apparating with a 'pop.'
One of them had barely reached out to touch his clothing when his foot struck out, dealing a sharp blow to the prone form and sending it rolling away. "You have been far too long in fulfilling my wishes, Rosier. Delay any longer and I may find other ways of punishing you."
"Yes, my Lord," rasped the quavering voice before he too disappeared.
Chloris Malfoy was the last to kiss his robes. As she stood, he spoke to her. "Where is your husband tonight?"
"Working, my Lord."
"Our work?"
"Always."
"Good, good. Now listen to me. I want you to take the young Snape into your home. He has much to learn, you are aware?"
"Yes, Lucius has told us." She glanced at Severus, who was staring intently at them. "We will arrange to have your things sent here." He nodded slowly, his head still throbbing. "Anything else, my Lord?"
"Yes... but the children must leave us." Lucius stepped forward and dropped to the ground as the others had, pressing his lips to the dark fabric in a servile gesture of respect. Snape did the same before following after his friend. He glanced behind him as they went out the door. Voldemort and Chloris stood close together, but even still the Dark Lord's words drifted to Snape's ears with frightful clarity. "Lucius," he said in his soft, dangerous voice, "must take a bride..."
* * *
Upstairs, in Lucius' bed, Snape lay staring at the ceiling, going over again in his head what he had heard. The blonde turned, wrapping his arm across Severus' pale stomach. "Still hurt?"
"What?" he asked, distracted.
"The Mark? Does it still hurt?"
"...no..."
Lucius propped himself up on his elbow. "What's wrong, then?"
"I'm just thinking."
He flopped back against the pillows with a sigh. "Don't think, Sev. I can't sleep when you think."
"That's ridiculous."
"You're the ridiculous one." He poked Severus gently in the side. "Just go to sleep." He pulled Severus closer, resting his pale head next to the dark one. "Isn't it great?" he whispered, his voice purring through the silence.
"What?"
"You'll be staying. Not just for the summer either. For forever."
Forever. How long was forever? Until Lucius tired of the sulking Snape and oh-so-politely asked him to leave? Or maybe until Lucius and his blushing bride took over Malfoy Manor and had a drove of little blonde-haired brats running around underfoot? Then would forever be over?
"Isn't it great, Sev?" he prodded, punctuating his question with a yawn.
Snape closed his eyes, trying to ignore the steady burning on his forearm. "Just great."
END CHAPTER EIGHT