Brew Like An Egyptian
About the stowee: I have BIG plans for it, will include intrigue, the unveiling of the new spy(is he really trustworthy?), torture(ouch! X_^) and lots more!!
Disclaimer: I do not own Severus Snape (reality sucks! :P) Neither do I own Headhamster..er..I mean Headmaster Dumbledore. Or any other Potterverse characters. There! You happy now?! _
Notes: Bath scene after the office scene :P
Chapter 1:
Of Lemon Drops and Potions
"Headmaster?" Professor Snape called out loud as he strode purposefully into Albus Dumbledore's office. The portraits of the previous Headmasters, adorning the walls, were snoozing in their frames; although some of them, he noted, opened one eye to peer at him before continuing their slumber.
Even Fawkes, the Headmasters loyal phoenix, was in a deep sleep atop his golden perch, his body rocking back and forth slightly. The cacophony of snores, grunts and faint rustle of robes added to the almost undetectable noises stemming from the Headmasters growing collection of magical contraptions. The only thing the office was devoid of at this moment was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore himself.
"He's in the other room," Phineas Nigellus responded wearily, brushing an imaginary piece of lint off his emerald Slytherin robes. "He's not a young man anymore you know. Can't stay up late. Just went in to change".
For a moment, Severus Snape debated whether to possibly rouse Professor Dumbledore from a much deserved rest or to seek his audience early next morning. That is until, he heard a soft click from behind him and Professor Dumbledore appeared in a plain violet nightshirt under the heavy purple cloak he had worn to dinner; along with, Snape noted slightly amused, a pair of fluffy pink slippers.
"Ah, Severus. I was not expecting you. I thought you might be with the other Professors in the staff room, merrymaking and toasting the end of the school year with the usual firewhiskey. I hear Professor Flitwick will be putting on quite a show this year," Dumbledore said amiably, walking towards his great oaken desk and gesturing for Severus to seat himself.
"I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour Headmaster-" Snape began as he sank into the familiar leather armchair, "but this is a pressing matter".
Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively as he reached into an outer pocket of his robes, "Not at all, Severus. I was merely changing out of my robes. Lemon drop?"
Dumbledore proferred the sticky yellow sweet while popping another into his mouth, never taking his blue eyes off Snape. It was well known Dumbledore had a penchant for sweets, especially those of muggle origin. Snape had once overhead Professor McGonagall describe to Madam Hooch, along with a wealth of detail, how positively over the moon the Headmaster seemed when Arthur Weasley had sent him a small box of "Kit Kats".
Lemon drops, however, were his perennial favourite, as anyone who came into regular contact with the Headmaster would soon learn. However, it had been quite some time since Severus had been offered one himself. He put it down to the fact that the last lemon drop he had eaten was more than 6 years ago when he paid a visit to the Headmaster to share his suspicions concerning Professor Quirrell's loyalty.
Severus, suddenly and awkwardly realized that while these thoughts and memories were running through his mind, time had passed in the real world. Dumbledore's eyebrows had furrowed, concern flitting over his wizened features as he watched Severus, or rather Severus' lack of response. Snape repositioned himself slightly, stretched his arm out and picked up the sweet that still lay expectantly in Dumbledore's outstretched hand; muttering a "thank you" before depositing it in his mouth. Almost at once a pleasant blend of sweet and sourness invaded and assailed his tastebuds.
To say that Dumbledore was greatly surprised was a sheer understatement. His face lit up at once, his eyes twinkling with untold mirth as he leaned back into his chair, the ends of his mouth curling up into a broad smile. Severus surveyed the impact this simple, but rare, gesture on his part had on the Headmaster. He, himself had not witnessed Dumbledore's eyes exhibit that characteristic twinkle in what seemed a very long time. 'Twinkle?' Severus thought bemusedly, 'more like he's got the whole bloody galaxy in there..'
He stowed the sweet away against his left cheek to prevent himself from accidentally swallowing it while he spoke, "As I was saying Headmaster, this is a pressing matter. Do you recall the brief conversation we shared earlier this week, about the trip organized by the Department of International Magical Cooperation?" Dumbledore nodded once which was a signal for Snape to continue, "I sent in an application and have just received a reply a short while ago. They have accepted me and I am soon required to present myself at the Department of Magical Transportation. It seems that we will be using a portkey to journey to Karnak".
Dumbledore of course had been anticipating this conversation ever since an excited (only Dumbledore himself could accurately decipher Professor Snape's subtle and subdued show of emotions) Professor Snape had informed him of the event and of his intention to participate. Dumbledore had no doubt that the Ministry would accept his application. A handpicked, select group of three British wizards would be invited to the Royal Laboratories of Karnak to take part in a rare exchange of knowledge in the field of potion-making with Egyptian Potion Masters, whose reputation was of ancient and world renown. It seemed that a thorough, practical study of ancient and modern Egyptian deadly poisons and antidote serums would also be included, among other less infamous classes of potions.
Since such knowledge would definitely prove useful in the ongoing, heated battle against Lord Voldemort, Albus Dumbledore had communicated his wholehearted approval that very same day. Meanwhile, Snape had continued, "I have also taken the liberty of informing the Dark Lord of my whereabouts for the next three months and also the fact a portkey will be placed at my personal disposal should the need arise for me to return to England; to attend any meetings he, or you, wish to summon me to. Of course, he has just suffered a major blow to his war effort by losing the support of most of the giants and cannot risk losing more supporters, even temporarily, especially his Death Eaters. But he acquiesced that taking this opportunity to learn deadly Egyptian potions would imbue me with the ability to contribute heavily to his cause."
Snape paused and gazed solemnly into the fire, "The Ministry has made it clear that all participants in this exchange will be drafted into temporary service by the Ministry; in recognition and reimbursement of the fact that most of the expenses incurred by this trip will be sponsored by the Ministry, sans food and lodging, which will be provided by the Egyptian Ministry of Magic". He returned his gaze to Dumbledore and finished simply, "I shall be leaving in two days".
Professor Dumbledore steeped his fingers under his chin, immersed in deep thought, "I do not intend to retract my support for your intention to attend this exchange. However, you are the Order's best informant and I cannot help but anticipate with trepidation that Voldemort's plans and movements will largely go undetected by us during your absence. Even if there is now a second spy within Voldemort's inner circle of Death Eaters. He still does not receive Voldemort's complete trust and confidence and is therefore not privy to the most covert of plans".
The obsidian orbs of Snape's eyes glittered as he, in annoyance, repositioned stray strands of his famous greasy black hair, that had been tickling his nose. He straightened his back, crossed his legs nonchalantly and gazed once more into the roaring fire, "He's only been a recipient of the Dark Mark for a mere two months. The Dark Lord is, by nature, suspicious of all new recruits. He will have to play his cards right and prove both his indispensability and loyalty to the Dark Lord. So far, he has been performing well. I, myself, was privy to and particpated in far less operations at his stage of initiation".
Dumbledore sighed deeply, "Let us hope that he is as successful in hiding his true allegiances as you have been, Severus". He rose from his high backed chair and proceeded to a small dark mahogany cabinet in the corner. "Nightcap Severus? It's an excellent vintage", Professor Dumbledore inquired, his back turned to Severus. "I'd like to, Headmaster, but I am, as of yet, unpacked and unprepared for the journey. I would like to commence preparations as soon as possible." Dumbledore nodded again, his eyes no longer twinkling behind the half-moon spectacles, upon which dancing flames were reflected.
He watched Snape rise, adjust his black robes and smooth out the few wrinkles present on the custom-tailored fabric. "I shall retire to my private chambers and take my leave of you now, Headmaster", Snape addressed Professor Dumbledore who had taken up position by the fire, now sipping occasionally from a small glass of mulled wine.
"Good night, Severus," Dumbledore replied as he silently watched his Potions Master nod, turn on his heel and stride out of his office, the dark robes billowing out behind him. He listened to the door click shut and subsequently to the receding footsteps as Professor Snape descended the spiral staircase; all the while contemplating the inevitable consequences of his impending absence.
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Slinging a freshly laundered, fluffy white towel over his robe-clad shoulder, Severus Snape stepped into the same bathroom that had served every Slytherin Head of House since Salazar himself. The gleaming white tiles, the highly-polished silver taps and the perpetually spotless tub, all belied the fact that it had endured several centuries of use. All thanks of course to a few industrious house-elves and well-placed cleaning charms that were strengthened promptly, once their effectiveness waned.
Salazar himself had designed his large and lavish, once-personal quarters and his famous favouritism of the colours green and silver were abundantly displayed. As he disrobed himself, the current Head of Slytherin tried to visualize what his temporary quarters at Karnak would look like. Skilled Egyptian craftsmen were much sought after for their intricate, hand-carved creations that somehow never failed to invoke a sense of grandeur. They were pieces that would feel welcome in any palace. But he was going to no palace, he reminded himself as he unbuttoned his frock-coat, he was going to a temple. Surely the furnishings would be more frugal, more austere? Perhaps even containing only the barest of necessities...
Swiftly removing the last item, his black boots, he walked with quick, long steps over the frigid tiles to the large, circular tub that reigned at the end of the room. It was sunk into the floor and four taps were strategically placed along the white rims. Their design was distinctly Slytherin. A silver snake intertwined itself around the tap, it's mouth opened wide and fangs bared. Twisting the knob would result in either soap, water or foam pouring out from within the serpent's open jaws.
Still clutching his towel, Snape bent down to the nearest tap on his right and turned the knob. Almost at once, hot water that never cooled and which was magically attuned to each Slytherin housemaster's personal temperature preference, gushed out filling the immense tub. Whispers of steam rose steadily to the ceiling..
He deposited the towel on a special rack that lay beside the tub. Uncorking his favourite bottle of soap, he breathed in the musky scent before placing it beside the tub and easing himself in; with an oft-rehearsed motion, Snape placed his right foot on the tap and turned the knob, stopping the flow of water.
The water level rose with his body weight and washed over him, reaching his collarbone as he stretched languidly. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back and created a mental checklist of the essentials that would accompany him to Karnak. Twenty-five summer robes, most in his customary black, grey nightshirts, undergarments and footwear. A potions kit containing vials, stirrers, ladles and a cauldron etc, for his own experiments. A few of the thick, lined and leather bound journals, purchasable from Flourish and Blotts, that he exclusively used to record theories and observations. Last but not least, a selected handful of potions-related materials for reference.
He opened his eyes and reached for the soap bottle. He sat up and deposited a sizeable amount on his palm. Starting with his face, he lathered in circles downwards and over his arms. He paused briefly over his Dark Mark. It was a faint red, slightly indiscernible against his skin. A skull with a serpent protruding from it's mouth like a tongue. It had been a familiar feature on his body for almost eighteen years now. Burning black whenever the Dark Lord summoned.
He deposited more soap on his palm, stood up gingerly and rubbed it generously over the rest of his body. Grabbing a sponge from the rack, he first immersed it in the water and after squeezing it firmly, scrubbed hard against his pallid skin. Against the scars that served as a chilling reminder of the Dark Lord's easily invoked displeasure; for while the Cruciatus Curse was the customary form of punishment for his followers now, it had not been so during the period before the Dark Lord's "demise".
Walden MacNair, chief executioner for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, was also the one chosen to mete out punishment, mainly in the form of whipping, on behalf and in the presence of the Dark Lord. Unfortunately, Severus (barely) endured a rare occasion in which the Dark Lord himself viciously whipped him raw. By the time the Dark Lord was through, thin streams of blood were cascading down his bare legs from the open wounds on his back. Years later, Madame Pomfrey, while treating him for a nasty burn from a failed potion's experiment, discovered the scars. She did her best to heal them, but a few stubbornly remained.
His service to the Dark Lord began and continued throughout his apprenticeship with ex- Durmstrang Potions Master Vladislav Petrenko. The Dark Lord had lacked a Death Eater adept at potion-making and Snape voluntarily filled the void. He was welcomed equally readily into the fold. Severus unflinchingly and assiduously performed, often daily, orders to brew Veritaserum, a multitude and variety of poisons and medicinal salves; combined with never ending research into prolonging the Dark Lord's lifespan, preferably into immortality.
He was finally getting the recognition his talents and brilliance so richly deserved. But there was one undeniable flaw. To the world outside the Death Eaters he was little more than a murderer, a torturer, an abettor of evil. The Dark Lord always insisted the full extent of the effects of his potions be tested on humans. He remembered watching, feigning indifference, as Lucius or Avery force-fed his concoctions to a bound muggle, muggle-born or other enemy. Potions such as Veritaserum were tested, or sometimes, deadlier brews like those that acidly dissolved your insides. More often than not, spine-chilling screams would resonate throughout the darkened chambers during the course of such "testings".
He banished all thoughts and memories from his mind as he took one last, deep soak washing all the soap off. He hoisted himself out from the tub, water droplets trickling down his slender limbs as he bent down to pull on the silver chain, releasing the stopper and sending the contents of the tub swirling down the ancient drain. Drying his feet on the forest green mat near the rack, he picked up his towel and vigorously dried the rest of his body before tying it around his waist and exiting the room.
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Notes: Oh oh! Sevviekins forgot to wash his hair!! Thankies for the great review Khamul! :D :D :D A reviewed author is a happy author! MAKE ME HAPPY!!! ^_~
I hope you guys enjoyed it! Next chapter will see Severus meeting the two other wizards and journeying to Karnak! Reviews welcomed! Flames will be used to light my cauldron to brew Polyjuice:P or to keep my hands warm.. whichever is the priority. :P
About the stowee: I have BIG plans for it, will include intrigue, the unveiling of the new spy(is he really trustworthy?), torture(ouch! X_^) and lots more!!
Disclaimer: I do not own Severus Snape (reality sucks! :P) Neither do I own Headhamster..er..I mean Headmaster Dumbledore. Or any other Potterverse characters. There! You happy now?! _
Notes: Bath scene after the office scene :P
Chapter 1:
Of Lemon Drops and Potions
"Headmaster?" Professor Snape called out loud as he strode purposefully into Albus Dumbledore's office. The portraits of the previous Headmasters, adorning the walls, were snoozing in their frames; although some of them, he noted, opened one eye to peer at him before continuing their slumber.
Even Fawkes, the Headmasters loyal phoenix, was in a deep sleep atop his golden perch, his body rocking back and forth slightly. The cacophony of snores, grunts and faint rustle of robes added to the almost undetectable noises stemming from the Headmasters growing collection of magical contraptions. The only thing the office was devoid of at this moment was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore himself.
"He's in the other room," Phineas Nigellus responded wearily, brushing an imaginary piece of lint off his emerald Slytherin robes. "He's not a young man anymore you know. Can't stay up late. Just went in to change".
For a moment, Severus Snape debated whether to possibly rouse Professor Dumbledore from a much deserved rest or to seek his audience early next morning. That is until, he heard a soft click from behind him and Professor Dumbledore appeared in a plain violet nightshirt under the heavy purple cloak he had worn to dinner; along with, Snape noted slightly amused, a pair of fluffy pink slippers.
"Ah, Severus. I was not expecting you. I thought you might be with the other Professors in the staff room, merrymaking and toasting the end of the school year with the usual firewhiskey. I hear Professor Flitwick will be putting on quite a show this year," Dumbledore said amiably, walking towards his great oaken desk and gesturing for Severus to seat himself.
"I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour Headmaster-" Snape began as he sank into the familiar leather armchair, "but this is a pressing matter".
Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively as he reached into an outer pocket of his robes, "Not at all, Severus. I was merely changing out of my robes. Lemon drop?"
Dumbledore proferred the sticky yellow sweet while popping another into his mouth, never taking his blue eyes off Snape. It was well known Dumbledore had a penchant for sweets, especially those of muggle origin. Snape had once overhead Professor McGonagall describe to Madam Hooch, along with a wealth of detail, how positively over the moon the Headmaster seemed when Arthur Weasley had sent him a small box of "Kit Kats".
Lemon drops, however, were his perennial favourite, as anyone who came into regular contact with the Headmaster would soon learn. However, it had been quite some time since Severus had been offered one himself. He put it down to the fact that the last lemon drop he had eaten was more than 6 years ago when he paid a visit to the Headmaster to share his suspicions concerning Professor Quirrell's loyalty.
Severus, suddenly and awkwardly realized that while these thoughts and memories were running through his mind, time had passed in the real world. Dumbledore's eyebrows had furrowed, concern flitting over his wizened features as he watched Severus, or rather Severus' lack of response. Snape repositioned himself slightly, stretched his arm out and picked up the sweet that still lay expectantly in Dumbledore's outstretched hand; muttering a "thank you" before depositing it in his mouth. Almost at once a pleasant blend of sweet and sourness invaded and assailed his tastebuds.
To say that Dumbledore was greatly surprised was a sheer understatement. His face lit up at once, his eyes twinkling with untold mirth as he leaned back into his chair, the ends of his mouth curling up into a broad smile. Severus surveyed the impact this simple, but rare, gesture on his part had on the Headmaster. He, himself had not witnessed Dumbledore's eyes exhibit that characteristic twinkle in what seemed a very long time. 'Twinkle?' Severus thought bemusedly, 'more like he's got the whole bloody galaxy in there..'
He stowed the sweet away against his left cheek to prevent himself from accidentally swallowing it while he spoke, "As I was saying Headmaster, this is a pressing matter. Do you recall the brief conversation we shared earlier this week, about the trip organized by the Department of International Magical Cooperation?" Dumbledore nodded once which was a signal for Snape to continue, "I sent in an application and have just received a reply a short while ago. They have accepted me and I am soon required to present myself at the Department of Magical Transportation. It seems that we will be using a portkey to journey to Karnak".
Dumbledore of course had been anticipating this conversation ever since an excited (only Dumbledore himself could accurately decipher Professor Snape's subtle and subdued show of emotions) Professor Snape had informed him of the event and of his intention to participate. Dumbledore had no doubt that the Ministry would accept his application. A handpicked, select group of three British wizards would be invited to the Royal Laboratories of Karnak to take part in a rare exchange of knowledge in the field of potion-making with Egyptian Potion Masters, whose reputation was of ancient and world renown. It seemed that a thorough, practical study of ancient and modern Egyptian deadly poisons and antidote serums would also be included, among other less infamous classes of potions.
Since such knowledge would definitely prove useful in the ongoing, heated battle against Lord Voldemort, Albus Dumbledore had communicated his wholehearted approval that very same day. Meanwhile, Snape had continued, "I have also taken the liberty of informing the Dark Lord of my whereabouts for the next three months and also the fact a portkey will be placed at my personal disposal should the need arise for me to return to England; to attend any meetings he, or you, wish to summon me to. Of course, he has just suffered a major blow to his war effort by losing the support of most of the giants and cannot risk losing more supporters, even temporarily, especially his Death Eaters. But he acquiesced that taking this opportunity to learn deadly Egyptian potions would imbue me with the ability to contribute heavily to his cause."
Snape paused and gazed solemnly into the fire, "The Ministry has made it clear that all participants in this exchange will be drafted into temporary service by the Ministry; in recognition and reimbursement of the fact that most of the expenses incurred by this trip will be sponsored by the Ministry, sans food and lodging, which will be provided by the Egyptian Ministry of Magic". He returned his gaze to Dumbledore and finished simply, "I shall be leaving in two days".
Professor Dumbledore steeped his fingers under his chin, immersed in deep thought, "I do not intend to retract my support for your intention to attend this exchange. However, you are the Order's best informant and I cannot help but anticipate with trepidation that Voldemort's plans and movements will largely go undetected by us during your absence. Even if there is now a second spy within Voldemort's inner circle of Death Eaters. He still does not receive Voldemort's complete trust and confidence and is therefore not privy to the most covert of plans".
The obsidian orbs of Snape's eyes glittered as he, in annoyance, repositioned stray strands of his famous greasy black hair, that had been tickling his nose. He straightened his back, crossed his legs nonchalantly and gazed once more into the roaring fire, "He's only been a recipient of the Dark Mark for a mere two months. The Dark Lord is, by nature, suspicious of all new recruits. He will have to play his cards right and prove both his indispensability and loyalty to the Dark Lord. So far, he has been performing well. I, myself, was privy to and particpated in far less operations at his stage of initiation".
Dumbledore sighed deeply, "Let us hope that he is as successful in hiding his true allegiances as you have been, Severus". He rose from his high backed chair and proceeded to a small dark mahogany cabinet in the corner. "Nightcap Severus? It's an excellent vintage", Professor Dumbledore inquired, his back turned to Severus. "I'd like to, Headmaster, but I am, as of yet, unpacked and unprepared for the journey. I would like to commence preparations as soon as possible." Dumbledore nodded again, his eyes no longer twinkling behind the half-moon spectacles, upon which dancing flames were reflected.
He watched Snape rise, adjust his black robes and smooth out the few wrinkles present on the custom-tailored fabric. "I shall retire to my private chambers and take my leave of you now, Headmaster", Snape addressed Professor Dumbledore who had taken up position by the fire, now sipping occasionally from a small glass of mulled wine.
"Good night, Severus," Dumbledore replied as he silently watched his Potions Master nod, turn on his heel and stride out of his office, the dark robes billowing out behind him. He listened to the door click shut and subsequently to the receding footsteps as Professor Snape descended the spiral staircase; all the while contemplating the inevitable consequences of his impending absence.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------
Slinging a freshly laundered, fluffy white towel over his robe-clad shoulder, Severus Snape stepped into the same bathroom that had served every Slytherin Head of House since Salazar himself. The gleaming white tiles, the highly-polished silver taps and the perpetually spotless tub, all belied the fact that it had endured several centuries of use. All thanks of course to a few industrious house-elves and well-placed cleaning charms that were strengthened promptly, once their effectiveness waned.
Salazar himself had designed his large and lavish, once-personal quarters and his famous favouritism of the colours green and silver were abundantly displayed. As he disrobed himself, the current Head of Slytherin tried to visualize what his temporary quarters at Karnak would look like. Skilled Egyptian craftsmen were much sought after for their intricate, hand-carved creations that somehow never failed to invoke a sense of grandeur. They were pieces that would feel welcome in any palace. But he was going to no palace, he reminded himself as he unbuttoned his frock-coat, he was going to a temple. Surely the furnishings would be more frugal, more austere? Perhaps even containing only the barest of necessities...
Swiftly removing the last item, his black boots, he walked with quick, long steps over the frigid tiles to the large, circular tub that reigned at the end of the room. It was sunk into the floor and four taps were strategically placed along the white rims. Their design was distinctly Slytherin. A silver snake intertwined itself around the tap, it's mouth opened wide and fangs bared. Twisting the knob would result in either soap, water or foam pouring out from within the serpent's open jaws.
Still clutching his towel, Snape bent down to the nearest tap on his right and turned the knob. Almost at once, hot water that never cooled and which was magically attuned to each Slytherin housemaster's personal temperature preference, gushed out filling the immense tub. Whispers of steam rose steadily to the ceiling..
He deposited the towel on a special rack that lay beside the tub. Uncorking his favourite bottle of soap, he breathed in the musky scent before placing it beside the tub and easing himself in; with an oft-rehearsed motion, Snape placed his right foot on the tap and turned the knob, stopping the flow of water.
The water level rose with his body weight and washed over him, reaching his collarbone as he stretched languidly. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back and created a mental checklist of the essentials that would accompany him to Karnak. Twenty-five summer robes, most in his customary black, grey nightshirts, undergarments and footwear. A potions kit containing vials, stirrers, ladles and a cauldron etc, for his own experiments. A few of the thick, lined and leather bound journals, purchasable from Flourish and Blotts, that he exclusively used to record theories and observations. Last but not least, a selected handful of potions-related materials for reference.
He opened his eyes and reached for the soap bottle. He sat up and deposited a sizeable amount on his palm. Starting with his face, he lathered in circles downwards and over his arms. He paused briefly over his Dark Mark. It was a faint red, slightly indiscernible against his skin. A skull with a serpent protruding from it's mouth like a tongue. It had been a familiar feature on his body for almost eighteen years now. Burning black whenever the Dark Lord summoned.
He deposited more soap on his palm, stood up gingerly and rubbed it generously over the rest of his body. Grabbing a sponge from the rack, he first immersed it in the water and after squeezing it firmly, scrubbed hard against his pallid skin. Against the scars that served as a chilling reminder of the Dark Lord's easily invoked displeasure; for while the Cruciatus Curse was the customary form of punishment for his followers now, it had not been so during the period before the Dark Lord's "demise".
Walden MacNair, chief executioner for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, was also the one chosen to mete out punishment, mainly in the form of whipping, on behalf and in the presence of the Dark Lord. Unfortunately, Severus (barely) endured a rare occasion in which the Dark Lord himself viciously whipped him raw. By the time the Dark Lord was through, thin streams of blood were cascading down his bare legs from the open wounds on his back. Years later, Madame Pomfrey, while treating him for a nasty burn from a failed potion's experiment, discovered the scars. She did her best to heal them, but a few stubbornly remained.
His service to the Dark Lord began and continued throughout his apprenticeship with ex- Durmstrang Potions Master Vladislav Petrenko. The Dark Lord had lacked a Death Eater adept at potion-making and Snape voluntarily filled the void. He was welcomed equally readily into the fold. Severus unflinchingly and assiduously performed, often daily, orders to brew Veritaserum, a multitude and variety of poisons and medicinal salves; combined with never ending research into prolonging the Dark Lord's lifespan, preferably into immortality.
He was finally getting the recognition his talents and brilliance so richly deserved. But there was one undeniable flaw. To the world outside the Death Eaters he was little more than a murderer, a torturer, an abettor of evil. The Dark Lord always insisted the full extent of the effects of his potions be tested on humans. He remembered watching, feigning indifference, as Lucius or Avery force-fed his concoctions to a bound muggle, muggle-born or other enemy. Potions such as Veritaserum were tested, or sometimes, deadlier brews like those that acidly dissolved your insides. More often than not, spine-chilling screams would resonate throughout the darkened chambers during the course of such "testings".
He banished all thoughts and memories from his mind as he took one last, deep soak washing all the soap off. He hoisted himself out from the tub, water droplets trickling down his slender limbs as he bent down to pull on the silver chain, releasing the stopper and sending the contents of the tub swirling down the ancient drain. Drying his feet on the forest green mat near the rack, he picked up his towel and vigorously dried the rest of his body before tying it around his waist and exiting the room.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------
Notes: Oh oh! Sevviekins forgot to wash his hair!! Thankies for the great review Khamul! :D :D :D A reviewed author is a happy author! MAKE ME HAPPY!!! ^_~
I hope you guys enjoyed it! Next chapter will see Severus meeting the two other wizards and journeying to Karnak! Reviews welcomed! Flames will be used to light my cauldron to brew Polyjuice:P or to keep my hands warm.. whichever is the priority. :P