Chapter 5: Apprehension
Treachery.
He did not before think that among Albus' forces, someone would commit treachery.
Circumstances proved him terribly wrong, for he was standing among the Death-Eaters facing Voldemort and his very own informant. His head was spinning with one conjecture after the other with the speed of a Snitch, each more horrendous than the one before.
Traitor versus traitor. What kind of sick, twisted irony was this?
How long had this spy, he could not identify the person since he, or she, was wearing a mask too, been working for the Dark Lord? When did this person turn? Before or after he himself switched sides? His heart leapt. If the Dark Lord was correct to say that this. . . double-crosser was a highly ranked member of Albus' order, would he not know that there was a Death- Eater in his own troops who was betraying him? Voldemort showed no such sign of knowledge, which in itself was assuring, though it meant nothing.
'My loyal followers. . .' said the Dark Lord softly, with a trace of disapproval lurking beneath the light tone, 'For months, we have consistently worked towards our ultimate goal. Soon, the Ministry will fall into our hands. . .' He paused, and was evidently pleased when the Death- Eaters mumbled and cheered enthusiastically.
He had learnt long ago that Voldemort was a vain wizard who thrived on fervent support and flattery. In a way, he mused, it was a sort of reverse psychology. Voldemort had supreme confidence in his abilities, but as a result of his past, he had suffered from ridicule so much that he needed to prove himself. He strove for the world to know and fear his name. He needed everyone to know he was right.
It was also a reason why each major gathering that involved all members was recorded. This time, it was his turn to take the daunting task of writing down every syllable that their master uttered. Such was the wizard's sheer vanity. Voldemort went on, and his displeasure became more apparent, 'However, our progress would have been much swifter, if it were not for the old fool Albus Dumbledore.'
His words sank in and the Death-Eaters stirred uncomfortably.
'For months, I have instructed each of you to infiltrate his ranks, to find out what he was doing. For months, I have insisted that we had to crush that resistance. Now, Dumbledore is still standing, and as I understand, he is better equipped and more powerful than before. Have you done anything to stop him?' The glacial voice seemed to chill many, including his. He tried to recite mundane ingredients of a simple potion to calm himself and concentrated on writing.
One Death-Eater surged forth and lay in front of the Dark Lord. 'Master,' he whimpered, 'forgive our uselessness.' He stole a glance and caught that of Lucius Malfoy's. From the gleam he read in those grey eyes, he could tell that they both had the same idea. Goyle was dense not to grasp their master's character by now.
Voldemort sneered and gave the trembling figure a vicious kick. He heard a few ribs crack as his former schoolmate howled.
Voldemort spoke as though nothing had interrupted him, 'Yet, my followers, Lord Voldemort is not without his cunning and resources. My powers and name prove themselves always that I'll emerge victorious. Here, as I've introduced to all of you, is our spy in Dumbledore's very own secret group. They call themselves,' here he smirked, 'the Order of the Phoenix.' He said mockingly, 'Well, this phoenix may die, but it will not resurrect itself.'
Several Death-Eaters snickered. Some pealed with laughter.
It cannot be. He had to prevent this. He had to warn Albus. Albus could not die.
'Think of a fallen Dumbledore, crumpled at my feet,' Voldemort's almost dreamy voice caused him to grimace. He sat stock still as he continued listening. 'With the help of my recent valuable aid,' he placed a hand on the person besides him, who jumped slightly at the contact.
'This brave wizard shall be duly rewarded. Not only is he helping me to bring down Dumbledore, he will start by guiding me to the Potters. My followers, let me present you, the Potters' Secret Keeper.' Voldemort chuckled in amusement at everyone's stunned reaction.
His first reaction was the single thought 'No.'. Yet he knew the Dark Lord did not lie in these matters. The latter wanted everyone to know how invincible he was. Besides, he was a cynical man, disillusioned with human nature, thus he was not all that shocked that someone Albus trusted could stab him in the back. The question was, who could it be?
He heard his name called.
Five Death-Eaters, including himself, remained after the others dispersed. Voldemort stood closer to them.
'We will go to the Potters' hide-out tonight.' The Dark Lord pointed to three of them, 'You will surround the house. The rest will follow me in. And remember, I shall be the one who kills the infant.'
He said in a fit of desperation, 'My Lord, should we not be better prepared? Perhaps we should find out if the Potters are alone in their home. . .' He quelled under the snake-like eyes.
'I am always ready Severus.' Voldemort ended the discussion which barely started, 'There is no one else there. I will Apparate with my informant first. All of you will be summoned to join me.'
It was an indication of Voldemort's impatience and eagerness that he was not punished for contradicting him.
How did things take place so fast? Without catching the eye of the others, his daft hands conjured up another piece of paper. Thank Merlin it was his duty tonight after all. Pretending to collect the papers as the others arranged what they were to do amongst themselves, he scribbled hurriedly. [V. knows. Potters' SK. Help now.] With that he grabbed a passing owl, and whispered, 'Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. And I'll wring your bony neck if you don't do it in ten minutes.' The owl hooted in fright and flew off.
'Snape, are you done? What're you doing with the owl?' Karkaroff strode to him.
'The Ministry sent me another slip to say they're coming to my place again,' said he in genuine irritation. He tried to stall for time.
The older man shrugged carelessly. 'We must endure it.' Then both their Marks glowed black. 'Come, our master awaits.'
When they appeared at the house, he realised with a jolt that it was Godric's Hollow.
Indeed, where else would the Potters hide?
'Come,' Voldemort said. His guts twisted at the lust vibrating in the voice as the hunter closed in on his prey. He looked about anxiously. Why had no one arrived?
What happened next was like a dream sequence, one disconnected from the other. He broke through the wards and crashed into the place with Voldemort. He heard Potter shout in anger. He saw him strike at Voldemort while he yelled, 'Lily! Go with Harry! Go!' He heard a woman scream. Seizing the chance when Voldemort was engaged in a duel with Potter, he rushed up the stairs. As he did, he heard Potter spit in rage, 'You were a Marauder!' He might have been mistaken by the term. It could be a code, or an unknown insult. Soon, he heard a man squeal in fear and the familiar 'pop' of someone who had disapparated. The traitor had left them to their own devices. He gritted his teeth. The coward would be dealt with later.
He rushed down the hallway above, looking about frantically while he murmured more spells to cast about the rooms to hold the other Death-Eaters back for a while. Down the path, he spotted light flickering in one room. Evans was holding up the boy when he reached the nursery.
'No!' she flung her wand out and was going to attack when he said, 'Mrs. Potter, Lily, hush, it's I.'
'Severus?' Evans' green eyes widened and were brimming with tears, 'How. . .'
'Can you Apparate?'
'Not without leaving Harry.'
'I'll levitate you both to the ground. Careful, there are two of us outside.'
They went to the window.
'Hurry,' he said, 'I. . .' Then he and Evans froze in horror when Voldemort and another Death-Eater crashed into the room.
He shoved her through the window, screaming, 'Bitch! You wish to die? All right, I'll grant you. . .'
'Severus, stand aside.'
He disobeyed his master. They were almost out of the window. . .
'Crucio.'
He collapsed in excruciating pain. The fury of Voldemort added to the power of the curse. The pain lasted longer than it usually was. He lay on the floor when it was over, powerless to stop the inevitable. He could barely lift his head and was panting harshly.
Evans and her child were instantly brought back into the room. Voldemort glided triumphantly towards them.
'One has to wonder. . . how a child of a Mudblood can defeat Lord Voldemort.' The Dark Lord's tongue licked his lips in anticipation, 'So easy to rid. . .'
'Please, please, don't hurt my child.' Evans begged.
'Your husband is dead. It'll be wise to let me have what I want. I guarantee you can leave unscathed.'
She saw through his deception. 'Never! Kill me, but not Harry.'
'Woman, I am tired of this. Avada Kedavra.'
Through blurred eyes, he saw her limp on the floor. The boy wailed loudly in her arms.
No.
Was this the end? After years of war, was this how it would be finished?
'Avada Kedavra.'
Another blast of green light flashed. He closed his eyes haplessly.
No.
Deadly quietness followed. Then his ears registered the crying of a baby and the shout of his fellow Death-Eater. He opened his eyes wearily.
Strange how the mind and body worked differently even under dire conditions. Numb disbelief wrecked the former when he saw the almighty Voldemort vanish and the boy still intact, albeit with a bleeding forehead. The latter scoffed at the anti-climax of the situation.
They were safe. Relief washed over him. They were not lost. And was it his sensitised imagination, or did he hear Albus' voice commanding his own men to help in the fight?
Feebly he picked himself up and aimed at the other man whilst he was still in shock. 'Stupefy!'
The Death-Eater immediately slumped to the ground.
Another bout of pain hit him and this time, he fainted.
Author's Note:
Snivellus: Thanks for all the uplifting reviews. I really appreciate them. The reason why I update so late is because I write slow. =) That in turn is because I'm going to university soon and I need to make preparations. Yeah, I'm 19 this year.
Treachery.
He did not before think that among Albus' forces, someone would commit treachery.
Circumstances proved him terribly wrong, for he was standing among the Death-Eaters facing Voldemort and his very own informant. His head was spinning with one conjecture after the other with the speed of a Snitch, each more horrendous than the one before.
Traitor versus traitor. What kind of sick, twisted irony was this?
How long had this spy, he could not identify the person since he, or she, was wearing a mask too, been working for the Dark Lord? When did this person turn? Before or after he himself switched sides? His heart leapt. If the Dark Lord was correct to say that this. . . double-crosser was a highly ranked member of Albus' order, would he not know that there was a Death- Eater in his own troops who was betraying him? Voldemort showed no such sign of knowledge, which in itself was assuring, though it meant nothing.
'My loyal followers. . .' said the Dark Lord softly, with a trace of disapproval lurking beneath the light tone, 'For months, we have consistently worked towards our ultimate goal. Soon, the Ministry will fall into our hands. . .' He paused, and was evidently pleased when the Death- Eaters mumbled and cheered enthusiastically.
He had learnt long ago that Voldemort was a vain wizard who thrived on fervent support and flattery. In a way, he mused, it was a sort of reverse psychology. Voldemort had supreme confidence in his abilities, but as a result of his past, he had suffered from ridicule so much that he needed to prove himself. He strove for the world to know and fear his name. He needed everyone to know he was right.
It was also a reason why each major gathering that involved all members was recorded. This time, it was his turn to take the daunting task of writing down every syllable that their master uttered. Such was the wizard's sheer vanity. Voldemort went on, and his displeasure became more apparent, 'However, our progress would have been much swifter, if it were not for the old fool Albus Dumbledore.'
His words sank in and the Death-Eaters stirred uncomfortably.
'For months, I have instructed each of you to infiltrate his ranks, to find out what he was doing. For months, I have insisted that we had to crush that resistance. Now, Dumbledore is still standing, and as I understand, he is better equipped and more powerful than before. Have you done anything to stop him?' The glacial voice seemed to chill many, including his. He tried to recite mundane ingredients of a simple potion to calm himself and concentrated on writing.
One Death-Eater surged forth and lay in front of the Dark Lord. 'Master,' he whimpered, 'forgive our uselessness.' He stole a glance and caught that of Lucius Malfoy's. From the gleam he read in those grey eyes, he could tell that they both had the same idea. Goyle was dense not to grasp their master's character by now.
Voldemort sneered and gave the trembling figure a vicious kick. He heard a few ribs crack as his former schoolmate howled.
Voldemort spoke as though nothing had interrupted him, 'Yet, my followers, Lord Voldemort is not without his cunning and resources. My powers and name prove themselves always that I'll emerge victorious. Here, as I've introduced to all of you, is our spy in Dumbledore's very own secret group. They call themselves,' here he smirked, 'the Order of the Phoenix.' He said mockingly, 'Well, this phoenix may die, but it will not resurrect itself.'
Several Death-Eaters snickered. Some pealed with laughter.
It cannot be. He had to prevent this. He had to warn Albus. Albus could not die.
'Think of a fallen Dumbledore, crumpled at my feet,' Voldemort's almost dreamy voice caused him to grimace. He sat stock still as he continued listening. 'With the help of my recent valuable aid,' he placed a hand on the person besides him, who jumped slightly at the contact.
'This brave wizard shall be duly rewarded. Not only is he helping me to bring down Dumbledore, he will start by guiding me to the Potters. My followers, let me present you, the Potters' Secret Keeper.' Voldemort chuckled in amusement at everyone's stunned reaction.
His first reaction was the single thought 'No.'. Yet he knew the Dark Lord did not lie in these matters. The latter wanted everyone to know how invincible he was. Besides, he was a cynical man, disillusioned with human nature, thus he was not all that shocked that someone Albus trusted could stab him in the back. The question was, who could it be?
He heard his name called.
Five Death-Eaters, including himself, remained after the others dispersed. Voldemort stood closer to them.
'We will go to the Potters' hide-out tonight.' The Dark Lord pointed to three of them, 'You will surround the house. The rest will follow me in. And remember, I shall be the one who kills the infant.'
He said in a fit of desperation, 'My Lord, should we not be better prepared? Perhaps we should find out if the Potters are alone in their home. . .' He quelled under the snake-like eyes.
'I am always ready Severus.' Voldemort ended the discussion which barely started, 'There is no one else there. I will Apparate with my informant first. All of you will be summoned to join me.'
It was an indication of Voldemort's impatience and eagerness that he was not punished for contradicting him.
How did things take place so fast? Without catching the eye of the others, his daft hands conjured up another piece of paper. Thank Merlin it was his duty tonight after all. Pretending to collect the papers as the others arranged what they were to do amongst themselves, he scribbled hurriedly. [V. knows. Potters' SK. Help now.] With that he grabbed a passing owl, and whispered, 'Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. And I'll wring your bony neck if you don't do it in ten minutes.' The owl hooted in fright and flew off.
'Snape, are you done? What're you doing with the owl?' Karkaroff strode to him.
'The Ministry sent me another slip to say they're coming to my place again,' said he in genuine irritation. He tried to stall for time.
The older man shrugged carelessly. 'We must endure it.' Then both their Marks glowed black. 'Come, our master awaits.'
When they appeared at the house, he realised with a jolt that it was Godric's Hollow.
Indeed, where else would the Potters hide?
'Come,' Voldemort said. His guts twisted at the lust vibrating in the voice as the hunter closed in on his prey. He looked about anxiously. Why had no one arrived?
What happened next was like a dream sequence, one disconnected from the other. He broke through the wards and crashed into the place with Voldemort. He heard Potter shout in anger. He saw him strike at Voldemort while he yelled, 'Lily! Go with Harry! Go!' He heard a woman scream. Seizing the chance when Voldemort was engaged in a duel with Potter, he rushed up the stairs. As he did, he heard Potter spit in rage, 'You were a Marauder!' He might have been mistaken by the term. It could be a code, or an unknown insult. Soon, he heard a man squeal in fear and the familiar 'pop' of someone who had disapparated. The traitor had left them to their own devices. He gritted his teeth. The coward would be dealt with later.
He rushed down the hallway above, looking about frantically while he murmured more spells to cast about the rooms to hold the other Death-Eaters back for a while. Down the path, he spotted light flickering in one room. Evans was holding up the boy when he reached the nursery.
'No!' she flung her wand out and was going to attack when he said, 'Mrs. Potter, Lily, hush, it's I.'
'Severus?' Evans' green eyes widened and were brimming with tears, 'How. . .'
'Can you Apparate?'
'Not without leaving Harry.'
'I'll levitate you both to the ground. Careful, there are two of us outside.'
They went to the window.
'Hurry,' he said, 'I. . .' Then he and Evans froze in horror when Voldemort and another Death-Eater crashed into the room.
He shoved her through the window, screaming, 'Bitch! You wish to die? All right, I'll grant you. . .'
'Severus, stand aside.'
He disobeyed his master. They were almost out of the window. . .
'Crucio.'
He collapsed in excruciating pain. The fury of Voldemort added to the power of the curse. The pain lasted longer than it usually was. He lay on the floor when it was over, powerless to stop the inevitable. He could barely lift his head and was panting harshly.
Evans and her child were instantly brought back into the room. Voldemort glided triumphantly towards them.
'One has to wonder. . . how a child of a Mudblood can defeat Lord Voldemort.' The Dark Lord's tongue licked his lips in anticipation, 'So easy to rid. . .'
'Please, please, don't hurt my child.' Evans begged.
'Your husband is dead. It'll be wise to let me have what I want. I guarantee you can leave unscathed.'
She saw through his deception. 'Never! Kill me, but not Harry.'
'Woman, I am tired of this. Avada Kedavra.'
Through blurred eyes, he saw her limp on the floor. The boy wailed loudly in her arms.
No.
Was this the end? After years of war, was this how it would be finished?
'Avada Kedavra.'
Another blast of green light flashed. He closed his eyes haplessly.
No.
Deadly quietness followed. Then his ears registered the crying of a baby and the shout of his fellow Death-Eater. He opened his eyes wearily.
Strange how the mind and body worked differently even under dire conditions. Numb disbelief wrecked the former when he saw the almighty Voldemort vanish and the boy still intact, albeit with a bleeding forehead. The latter scoffed at the anti-climax of the situation.
They were safe. Relief washed over him. They were not lost. And was it his sensitised imagination, or did he hear Albus' voice commanding his own men to help in the fight?
Feebly he picked himself up and aimed at the other man whilst he was still in shock. 'Stupefy!'
The Death-Eater immediately slumped to the ground.
Another bout of pain hit him and this time, he fainted.
Author's Note:
Snivellus: Thanks for all the uplifting reviews. I really appreciate them. The reason why I update so late is because I write slow. =) That in turn is because I'm going to university soon and I need to make preparations. Yeah, I'm 19 this year.
