Freedom First



It's always there. The temptation, the desire, for that's often how it presents itself, as a deep, carnal desire. The years of heavy, dark magic that have woven themselves into his soul slowly creep into his mind. It would be so easy to listen to them. Safety, for one. He was already beginning to be suspect, but it wouldn't take much to get himself back in everyone's good graces. He had once been right up there, near the top of the heap. Never second-in-command, exactly, but as good as.

And now he had so much more to give then he had before. Of course he had added twelve years of research and experience, but he now had something that none of the rest could offer. He would be exalted, he would be rewarded. Above the faithful Wormtail. Above the executioner Macnair. And even above Lucius, who had the entire Ministry tied to his purse strings. For what are the secrets Cornelius Fudge compared to those of Albus Dumbledore?

It would feel so good, to access the power again. He hadn't forgotten a thing these long years, and he was sure it would only take one good hex to bring back all the diligently practiced wand work. There were so many new potions now, potions that he knew he alone of their number could brew properly. And of course, the Lord would know that. It would be so much easier for the Dark Lord if he felt he could give him tasks, like those he had received in the old days. He could probably brew most of those potions in his sleep, drugged though it is.

Regardless of his power, it had always been easier to lie to Albus. Probably because Albus didn't use the Cruciatus, or Veritaserum. Albus trusted him, whatever he said. If he said that he needed to brew a few things to get back in the know, that his loyalties were being questioned, then it would be "Go ahead, Severus, as long as you're sure of yourself."

And there certainly were people that it would be nice not to feel obliged to protect. The Weasley brats for one, and young Potter. Black had already dealt with himself, of course, but Lupin was still there. Oh, no sir, I didn't hear anything about that, they must've not wanted me for that raid. To finally extract his revenge for the quarter century of hell they had put him through. It would be so satisfying.

He set down his glass stirring rod and lifted his sleeve, tracing the edges of the mark with his finger. It had been irritating him lately. Not that it really hurt, nothing more than usual, but it's mere presence there was bothering him. Perhaps these spells were finally getting to his mind, and while he thought in a way so treacherously to his body, it would be a torment. Only one way to stop that, of course.

He pushed down his sleeve again and picked up the stirring rod. He was reaching towards the cauldron when he heard a loud thump on the outside of his office door, and then a terrific explosion barely registered in his mind before the far wall of his workroom burst inwards and the ceiling stones tumbled down.





A/N: This is one that I intend to continue, but it won't be really long. I'm writing this as I go, so suggestions will be considered. I've gotten kind of hooked on dark!fics as of late. Tell me what you think of it, and what you think Sev should decide.



Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. JKR does, as is apparent by how much richer she is than me.