PG-13
Disclaimer: I'm sure that you get the point: If I owned this Universe, Snape and very possibly Jack Sparrow would be my personal sex slaves, this fic wouldn't be here right now, and I would never, ever again type the word 'disclaimer'. As things stand right now, I reckon I should just say that I OWN NOTHING!
A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know. I take too damn long to update. It takes a very specific mood to write a story like this, as well as the build-up of several reasons for writing it. Here are the reasons that this chapter is here right now: 1) On Thursday, I felt a vague urge to do something nice for Aindel, and she had happened to mention this fic for some reason, at least four days prior to said odd urge. 2) This morning at work, I discovered the basic opening paragraph in the depths of my sleep-deprived mind, and I got a strange sense that I should write this chapter NOW. 3) Upon having gotten home and quickly forgotten all aforementioned senses and urges, I went on the computer. I joined a new role-playing site. I emptied out my email so that the little form confirming my entry could come through. I saw about eight review notices, seven of which were from lighted eagle, and one of which was a review for this story. So here I am. Enjoy this little piece of sunshiny murder with your day!
A/N2: Let it be known to all that I have just called Aindel, and ransomed this chapter to her for two chapters of her Pirates and Wrong Turn fics each, and…AND! I made her admit in front of her family that she's going to be writing about me snogging Snape. Then, I found a bottle of wine simply sitting around. A happy day for the house of Steenburg all, in all.
((*))
Away in a seldom-visited wing of the Malfoy estate, the Dark Lord flung down his copy of The Prophet with an inelegant, "Fuck!"
"My Lord, I realize it is upsetting—" Peter Pettigrew began, before being interrupted by a tea mug in the face.
Lucius stepped in smoothly, though subservient nonetheless, "Does it matter so how the Potter child died, even if it was not by your hand? The Light boy-Hero is dead, and you may now…" He swallowed at the look on his Master's face. "…May now, um…"
Voldemort stood up abruptly, and paced about the large breakfast-room. "Did you read the Skeeter woman's article? Such a story of child abuse… by Muggles, and upon a Wizard, no less. It was so specific; how could it be false? Damnable Muggles!" The great Dark Wizard was more haunted then he would care to admit by the story of a childhood that seemed so similar to his own. The very thought of any Muggle laying a hand on a Wizard, even if it was his own "archenemy"…!
He spun around in sudden decision, so quickly that Pettigrew, who was cautiously feeling his teeth, flinched, and even proud Lucius blinked to hide the flash of fear in his eyes.
"Call my Servants, Lucius," Voldemort commanded, "I need to find an address that has been very well-guarded, indeed."
((*))
MUGGLE HOME DESTROYED—
Thought to be the work of Dark witches or wizards unknown
Rita Skeeter—Special Correspondent
Early this morning, between the hours of 3 and 5 a.m., a Muggle house in Little Whinging, Surrey, was raided and set ablaze by wizards or witches unknown. The Dark Mark was seen floating over the site of destruction by an inhabitant of Little Whinging, although the Ministry officials present at the scene of the incident. No survivors…
"…were found, and all of the current inhabitants of the house were accounted for." Dumbledore looked sharply at the Heads of Slytherin and Gryffindor Houses.
"Really, Albus, I cannot imagine why I have been called here. I certainly have no more information then the next Order Member," Minerva McGonagall glowered primly at Severus Snape, whose face resembled a tall glass of curdled milk.
"Go on, then Minerva, and shut the door behind you!" Albus acknowledged grudgingly. He peered askance at Snape over the rims of his spectacles. "Well?"
Snape snorted grimly. "I have nothing to say, Albus."
Dumbledore sighed. "My dear boy—" he began, but Snape interrupted ferociously.
"Now, with your leave, there are papers to be marked, and I'd like to turn in early. I haven't been sleeping well lately." He turned on his heel, and went to the door. On the threshold, he turned back. "Oh, and Voldemort was planning some sort of murder at the meeting last night… it must have slipped my mind until just now."
Dumbledore gave a long pause, and then leaned back in his chair. "Severus…" he started warningly, and Snape met his eyes squarely. They were utterly void of any emotion at all. Albus revised what he had been about to say. "There is blood on your robes."
Severus Snape looked down quietly, and fingered the crustiness on the edge of his sleeve, and then he swept away without another word.
)((Sraid'a))(
A/N: Finito! Now you may kill me. But I'd really rather you just review.
Aindel, you know what you own me.
Reviews:
L'Ange de Mort: Yeah, well, Merry Christmas, the story's all finished, now.
Angel Baby: I hear you! I actually have a dog and a cat. It does get easier: I don't take care of either of them! Hah! And thanks, a couple of you seem to think I carried this off fairly well. I must say, I didn't really like it, at the last two chapters.
Shadow Wolf: Thanks very much!
Aindel: I'll be gracious, and just rub your nose into the fact that you owe me four chapters, plus now your parents are likely seriously considering your mental state offline. Where people we actually know can hear it.
Terra4: No, he doesn't, no, no one does, and yes, Sev does get his share of the fun. Weasley is our King!
lighted eagle: You are now one of my favourite people! Thank you for all the reviews! Thank you, I revel in "icky", and yes, I have read the fifth book, and I must tell you two things: a) Denial is bad, b) I laughed when Sirius died. It really tickled me. Sorry for the loss.