Chapter Thirty-six: Loyalties

Summary: Thirty-sixth chapter. Thirteen to go. That about sums it up.

In the chamber of Lord Voldemort, Snape stood with the other deatheaters. He tried to will himself to be calm, but something was wrong. Since he had given Sirius the cure for Voldemort's poison he had heard nothing from the dark lord's lair. Now Voldemort had summoned them all for some sort of meeting. Such events never ended well.

Voldemort sat on a type of throne he had fashioned for himself in the center of the chamber. It sat atop a series of layered slabs so that the chair sat several feet off the floor and he could look out over those assembled.

"It always grieves me to call such meetings," Voldemort began. "For tonight I must express disappointment, both in my followers as a whole..., and individually."

A nervous mummer ran through those assembled in chamber.

"Tonight you failed." Voldemort stated slowly, looking over the crowd before him. "You faced ministry wizards...and you failed."

The Deatheaters stood absolutely still. Rarely did they hear the tone their lord was using now. It was one that could chill your blood and leave you praying for daylight.

Voldemort pulled out his wand and pointed it at the crowd. He spoke the Cruciatus curse several times, choosing those to be punished at random. Shrieks filled the chamber as those hit by the curse collapsed amidst the others. However, no one dared to move. Moving would draw attention to yourself. And that was the last thing anyone in the chamber wanted to do.

When Voldemort was finished with his followers in general, he turned his attention to the other matter.

"And now I find that I must equally question the loyalty of one of my followers."

A second nervous murmur ran through those left standing.

"Silence!" Voldemort roared over the noise. "Snape!"

Snape froze in his spot. Surely the dark lord didn't suspect him? He had been very careful to appear as one of the most faithful followers of Voldemort.

Snape slowly came forward. "Yes, my lord."

"Sirius Black is still alive, Snape." Voldemort hissed. "And thereby Harry Potter still has his godfather."

Snape's expression remained completely unreadable.

"How do you explain that, Snape?"

"The potion was never meant to kill Black, my lord." Snape answered carefully. "Only render him without his powers."

"So that your fellow deatheaters could launch an attack against him that should have been no more difficult than killing a muggle. Yet Black was able to cast an effective protection spell, and those that went after Black in the attack report that he fought back...with magic. How do you explain that, Snape?"

"I can not, my lord," Snape answer softly.

"You assured me that the potion you brewed was infallible."

"As it was, my lord," Snape pointed out. "Black lost his powers."

"And yet now it would seem he has them back. Most curious, wouldn't you say?"

Snape said nothing.

"Well, Snape?"

"I never said that there was no counter to the potion, my lord. Someone must have brewed a remedy and given it to Black."

"And who might that have been, Snape?"

"I would not know, my lord."

"The poison was a very complicate potion to brew, was it not, Snape?"

"Yes, my lord."

"You insisted few people could have attempted it and gotten it right."

"Indeed."

"Then I would think it stands to reason that the cure must have been equally complicated and difficult to brew, Snape."

Snape fell into silence again. The situation was getting increasingly dangerous for him.

"Well?" Voldemort asked.

"It would stand to reason, my lord," Snape agreed slowly. "But who is to know what allies Dumbledore has at Hogwarts and who...."

"I expect you to know, Snape!" Voldemort shouted. "That is the job of a spy."

A small bead of sweat formed on Snape's brow. The only betrayal of what was going on under the expressionless mask. The voice was a smooth as ever.

"Am I being accused of something?" He asked.

Voldemort stared down at his servant. "There is only suspicion against you, Snape. No real evidence." Voldemort conceded. "Therefore, you will be given the opportunity to prove yourself."

"Prove!" Snape raised his voice slightly. "I have never failed in one task you have given me. And yet some idiot whispers in your ear...," Snape shot Pettigrew an evil look. "...and suddenly I am brought before trail? Told to prove my loyalties?"

"And it is only by the grace of how well you have served, Snape, that you still stand before me due to your arrogant questioning of my will."

Snape knew as soon as he had stopped talking he had gone too far. Sometimes his temper simply got the better of him at the most inopportune times.

"And I am most grateful, my lord." He apologized. "It is your right to question the loyalty of any one of us. Even mine."

"And if they are where they should be, Snape, this task will prove no test for you. It will instead be more...of a reward." Voldemort finished with an evil grin that even Snape didn't like the look of.

Voldemort gave a slight wave of his hand and two deatheaters came forward. Between them they dragged a nearly unconscious man. Snape couldn't bring himself to recognize who the robed figure was until the two deatheaters forced his head up as they stood him before Voldemort's throne so that the man was forced to look up at the Dark Lord.

'Sirius!' Snape managed to turn his look of shock into a slow, devious grin. Anyone looking at him would have thought Snape had just been handed the most valuable thing to him in his life. But behind the cold, dark eyes and the sinister grin, a plan was rapidly being put together. Snape had little doubt what his 'test' was going to be. The trick was to stay one step ahead of Voldemort.

"As you can see, Severus," Voldemort said in such a chillingly smooth voice that even Snape gave an involuntary shutter, "we have managed to correct the problem. Well, 'almost'."

Snape turned his gaze to Sirius. As much as he hated the man, he pitied what he had most likely been through thus far. His robes were torn and covered in dirt and blood. What skin was exposed showed very little area that wasn't marked by cuts and burns. His matted hair had been pulled back by the one Deatheater so Black was forced to look at Voldemort, showing a face Snape could barely recognize. When the Deatheaters released their hold on him, Snape couldn't even begin to imagine how Black remained on his feet, although he looked like he might faint at any moment.

"Severus." The cold, level voice brought Snape quickly out of his thoughts. "This man has been your enemy for years, is that not so?"

"Yes, my lord," Snape answered, putting as much venom into the tone as he could.

"Then the task put before you should be a reward," Voldemort stated plainly. "Kill him."

Snape knew any hesitation would be viewed by Voldemort as suspicious. He had the time it took him to walk to Black's side to form his plan and test it for fallacy.

Grabbing Black under the chin, Snape turned his face to him as he carefully studied the man's stare. Was Black aware enough to listen to and understand him?

"Can you hear me, Sirius?" Snape hissed at him, watching carefully for any reaction. "Can you understand me?"

"There is little time for talk, Severus." Voldemort stated irritatedly. "Do as you have been told."

Snape boldly turned back to Voldemort. "You said this would be a reward, my lord." Snape answered, trying not to press Voldemort too far again. "But if the man knows nothing of what is going to happen to him, or who is responsible, where is the pleasure in that for me? I might as well be killing anyone. But this is Sirius Black. A man whose very existence is an insult to me. If he is to die, I want him to know who is killing him. Otherwise my revenge is stolen from me forever. If you want him simply killed, you might choose any of the others and find something more challenging to test my loyalty with."

Snape held his breath as he waited for Voldemort's reply.

Voldemort studied his servant for a moment, then waved a hand at him dismissively. "Very well. Your point is made, Severus. But be quick about it."

Snape turned quickly back to Black, wondering how he was going to get the man's attention. But to his surprise, Black was now staring directly back at him, infuriation showing in his eyes that did not seem able to reach the rest of his features. But behind those eyes it burned like fire.

"So, there you are." Snape stated softly.

"I know who you are," Sirius hissed past cracked lips, having apparently listened to the conversation between Voldemort and Snape.

Snape could smell the blood on the Black's breath. He would have to be so very careful to make sure his plan worked correctly.

"That's good," Snape hissed back. "Because it's important to me that you do know me, Sirius. That you know the man who is going to end your miserable life."

"Then get on with it and spare me your pathetic gloating." With that Sirius suddenly choked and began to cough, nearly collapsing if Snape hadn't grabbed hold of him.

A near fatal error. But Snape covered it quickly. "Stand up and face me like some sort of a man." he yelled for all in the hall to hear. "There is no challenge in killing you while you crawl on the floor, begging for mercy."

The last part was added for Sirius' benefit. And the insult struck home. The fire that had almost gone out behind those eyes flared anew as Sirius fixed his gaze on Snape.

"I will never crawl or beg to the likes of you, Snape." he spat. "And I will show you how a man dies. Maybe you can do a pitiful enough imitation of it when your time comes that those around you might mistake you for man."

Snape nearly cursed the man standing before him right there. But he held himself in check. One thing he did believe in past everything else in his life; Potter, no matter how much he may hate the boy, was the key somehow to bringing down the Dark Lord. And for some reason, most of his strength Potter seemed to draw from the people around him. From his friends. But mostly from his godfather. If Black died, Voldemort's plan to dispirit the boy enough to attack and kill him might actually work.

Snape looked back at Sirius again. "Now, you listen to me, Black," he stated so quietly he hoped Black still heard him. But from the focused look in Sirius' eyes, Snape felt sure he did. "I want you to stand still. You understand? Very, very still."

Sirius' gaze clouded for a moment. But Snape shook him in his hold. "Black!"

The eyes refocused. "Why?" Came the barely audible reply.

Snape smiled. To those around him it might have looked like his usual sneer. But under it was a genuine feeling of relief.

"Do it." Snape replied. "And you'll find out."

"A clear shot?" Sirius ventured.

Snape let go of him. "Something like that." He replied. "Go ahead and show me how a man dies, Sirius."

Again the anger flared up behind Sirius' stare.

Snape knew he had only seconds before the pain and loss of blood would pull Black away from him again. If Black fell or even swayed the smallest bit, Snape may very well kill him. And he had no desire, when finally presented with the possibility, to do so by accident.

Snape took several steps back, raised his wand and took very careful aim. In a loud voice he cried out the killing curse. But as it echoed in the chamber, and the bright green light shot out of his wand, Snape moved his lips again, praying no one saw, and uttered a second spell, which went gratefully unnoticed behind the flash of green.

Seconds after Snape uttered the spells, Sirius collapsed to the ground in a crumpled heap. Snape stood froze for a moment, but quickly stepped forward as several of the Deatheaters approached the fallen man. He bent down before any of them had a chance and checked for a pulse. The he turned to face Voldemort.

"Is my loyalty still in question, my lord?" He asked.

Voldemort smiled slightly. Snape felt it like a splash of ice cold water had been thrown over him. "No, Severus. We no longer question you. You have served us well."

Voldemort signaled to the Deatheaters standing around Sirius' crumpled form.

"Throw the body in the fire." he instructed, gesturing to the large bonfire that burned in the chamber. "Let everyone witness what happens to those who oppose the Dark Lord."

Snape's face went pale. He hadn't expected this. His mind raced as he watched the Deatheaters lift the body.

"Wait," he stated suddenly, trying to make his voice sound as smooth and cold as always instead of choked with the fear raging through him. He was still in danger of exposure. Snape turned slowly to Voldemort. "My lord," he added in his most reverent tone, "if I might offer a suggestion."

Voldemort looked interested. "Speak."

"Your plan all along has been to kill those around Potter. Dishearten the boy and thereby make him more vulnerable."

"Your point, Severus." Voldemort stated impatiently.

"My lord, what is the point in simply burning the body before a group of followers who already know of your great power, when it could serve better to show those who are less....observant."

"Continue."

"Send the body to Dumbledore. Leave it at the gates of his wretched castle, where they are sure to find it. This way, all will see and know of your power. Especially," Snape added with a widening grin, "...Potter."

Voldemort's smile matched Snape's as he leaned back in his throne. He waved a hand at the Deatheaters around Sirius' body. "Take the body." He ordered them. "Do as Severus has suggested." Voldemort turned back to Snape. "Your idea has pleased me a great deal, Severus. You will be rewarded."

"I would asked but one thing, my lord," Snape stated.

"Ask."

"Let me be there when they find the body. Let me see the look on Potter's face when he sees that you have indeed killed his beloved godfather."

Voldemort seemed to consider the request. While silence filled the great hall Snape's anxiety rose. Had he risk too much with the request? Would Voldemort start to see the reason for it? Seconds were fast ticking by. Precious ones that Snape did not have to waste. But he couldn't hurry Voldemort's decision. He couldn't appear too eager.

Finally Voldemort waved a hand at him. "Very well, Severus. You may go with them."

Snape bowed to the throne and disapparated with the others.