Several hours later, Snape appeared back in his rooms, silently thanking Dumbledore for the dispensation he had been given that allowed him to apparate on school grounds. At least that spared him the indignity of having people see him in this state.
Snape was exhausted, covered in blood and near collapse, but miraculously, still alive. Even he didn't know how he had managed that. He had just survived several hours of questioning by Voldemort himself. Which was, after all, nothing short of a miracle.
His answers seemed to have appeased Voldemort. He claimed that he hadn't know Quirrell had been acting for Voldemort, and thought that he was after the stone for his own reasons. He had been protecting Potter from Quirrell because he knew that the Dark Lord would want to be the one to finish him, the same reason he gave for not having disposed of Potter himself. It was a fairly plausible excuse, given he had had to come up with it on the spot. He had also managed to convince Voldemort that he was not allowed to apparate from Hogwarts, hence his absence from the last meeting, he had also, he said, been with Dumbledore at the time and didn't want to arouse suspicion by vanishing, thus destroying years of work inveigling himself into Dumbledore's trust. By means of which he had turned himself into a useful tool for the Dark Lord and convinced Dumbledore to such an extent that he had actually defended Snape and vouched for him at his trial. He reminded Voldemort, subtly of course, that it had, after all been his brilliant idea that he pretend to work for Dumbledore anyway, thus becoming a useful spy for Voldemort, and Snape knew, he said, that his services would be needed when the Dark Lord rose again.
It seemed to have worked. Yet for all Snape knew, Voldemort could be toying with him, using him in some way he was yet unaware of. He was not naïve enough to believe that his words, and a *mild punishment* -Snape shuddered at the recollection- could have appeased the dark lord to such an extent that Snape had regained his trust. Oh no, not by a long shot. But he had been given a chance to redeem himself. All he had to do was deliver Harry Potter to Voldemort. Simple. The only problem was, Snape would die before he would bring himself to hand over a child, any child, to the greatest evil in the world. Knowing that flatly refusing the demands of said evil was not conducive to longevity or happiness, Snape had done the one thing he could do in the circumstances. He had stalled. He replayed that part of the conversation in his head.
"You should be grateful I am giving you this chance to prove yourself, Severus, I was not so merciful to the others who betrayed me." Voldemort glanced meaningfully at something on the floor, something that Snape had not noticed before. A body. Karkaroff. So that's what happened to him. I can't say I'm surprised. Or sorry.
"Yes my lord, I am deeply grateful for your benevolence, God, the shite I spew…But it is not as easy as it may sound. Potter's fan club are with him wherever he goes, Dumbledore watches him like a hawk, more so after the recent events. He was called back from the muggle world and is now spending the summer holidays at Hogwarts, he is never unaccompanied, and he hates me. If I had his trust, it would be an easy task… but as it is…"
"Earn it then."
"But my lord, it will take time. It's a bugger that isn't it?
"You have one month, no more. You will bring Potter to me by that time, or I will make you long for Death."
Nothing new in that, although I am surprised he gave me that long. One month. One month in which to think of something. I WILL think of something. I have to.
"Thank you, my lord." All this my lording is getting a bit tedious isn't it, ego of a four-year-old…
"That will be for now Severus, but I think you ought to be punished for abandoning me all those years and saving yourself when my faithful followers were killed or worse." Voldemort's face contorted with evil delight as he levelled his wand at Snape. "Crucio."
Oh God, here we go again.
