Chapter 27: Well done, my boy
Snape sat in an armchair facing the fireplace, twirling a glass around in his hands. The liquid within danced along the polished insides and swept dangerously close to the edge sometimes, but not a single drop was spilt. Lucius Malfoy was leaning against the mantelpiece and looked at his friend with a worried frown.
"He was really annoyed with you at first", he said without taking his startlingly bright eyes off the Potions Master.
"He already knew that you were at Hogwarts. Probably Pettigrew told him."
Snape's head shot up.
"Pettigrew?"
He frowned in disbelief and took unusually long to hide his obvious astonishment. Yet his eyes didn't meet his friend's.
"So, it is true after all", was the only thing he mumbled; his voice, however, was so soft that it wasn't likely the other man had heard him.
"Yes, that grovelling, obnoxious piece of sham without a backbone."
Lucius sounded more than slightly disgusted and wiped his hands on his robes involuntarily.
"Seems to think he is the Master's newest best friend. Brought him back, or so he says, when nobody else believed in his return anymore. Like we hadn't all been waiting for the merest hint of a sign to rejoin our Lord."
The usually so beautiful face was contorted into a mask of anger and revulsion and his hands were shaking with an inner fury. Suddenly both men took a sharp breath, almost simultaneously, yet while Lucius Malfoy only flexed his left hand Snape clutched his arm with his right and closed his eyes for a second.
"I guess he is ready for you", Lucius whispered and reached out a hand to pull his somewhat unwilling friend to his feet.
"I thought we would have more time to talk this through, but maybe it is for the best if you get this over with as soon as possible. Just tell him the truth and he will understand. He was merciful to all of us and I doubt that he will make an exception with you."
As they both strode towards the entrance door Lucius Malfoy abruptly gripped his friend's arm as his whole frame started shaking violently. Snape placed two careful arms gently around the other one's shaking form, muttered something under his breath and watched as the trembling subsided as suddenly as it had come.
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So, even Lucius Malfoy had been punished, Harry realised with a certain amount of surprise. He still remembered the scene in the graveyard vividly, where the Death Eaters had rejoined their master; where they all had bowed down, prostrated themselves before Voldemort and kissed the hem of his robes. Back then there had been no castigation for the "slippery friend", just a few reprimanding words. Obviously Voldemort's rage upon Harry's unforeseen escape had earned each of his faithful servants his share of the Cruciatus. Harry felt a grim satisfaction rise inside of him.
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The two men apparated in the garden of a ruined old house. Ivy had conquered the sunken walls for the most part and had also found its way inside in some places. The glass in the windows was shattered here and there; the building stared at them with blind eyes.
Facing the house and the two newcomers in front of a withered old tree stood Voldemort, flanked on either side by a slithering snake and a nervously whispering Pettigrew. Ten Death Eaters, fully robed and masked, formed a semi-circle behind him. Snape looked into Voldemort's face and shuddered involuntarily.
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Harry remembered the feeling well. The face was just not human with its flat, reptile-like nostril slits, the pale skin that stretched over a face that was more a skull than anything else. And those eyes. Those red eyes. Every time he remembered the eyes he heard the hissing voice and felt the pain in his scar. Red eyes that caused shiny green pain.
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"So, you have not only forgotten me but also your manners."
The high pitched voice, so different from the former silken sounds, shook Snape out of his momentary daze. Hastily he lowered his eyes and sank down onto his knees. Beside him Lucius Malfoy did the same, but was ordered to rise again soon after by a pale, unnaturally long fingered hand.
Snape kept staring at the grass under his knees. The hem of dark robes appeared on the edge of his vision, then suddenly the ground rushed in on him as Voldemort obviously pushed him down, insisting on a more humble display of devotion.
"Lucius spoke for you, and very eloquently so, otherwise you would be hanging upside down from that tree by now, begging me for your death."
The robes were so long that Snape could hardly see the tip of Voldemort's shoes. It was like night had suddenly crept in on him as silken blackness blocked everything else from view.
"He pointed out", Voldemort continued, "that, were you really a traitor, you wouldn't be so keen on leaving Dumbledore's protective habitat and rejoining our ranks. And that is what you want, is it not, Severus?"
A dark boot casually found its way onto Snape's left hand, crushing his fingers into the ground.
"Yes, Master", Snape answered. Somehow he managed to keep his voice steady in spite of the pain he had to be feeling.
"If you would have me back."
There was a moment of silence, framed by the sounds of a snake sliding through high grass. The boot disappeared.
"Get up!"
Slowly Snape brought himself up to a kneeling position, careful not to put too much pressure on the mangled hand, even more careful not to raise his gaze. As he moved to get up completely and straighten his back he found the snake staring at him with cold eyes and heard the Dark Lord's voice behind his back:
"That's far enough, Severus. You haven't earned your way back up yet. You don't deserve to be eye to eye with your former brothers; the way there will be long. And rather painful, I'm afraid."
The blow came out of nowhere. A fist connected with his left temple with a sickening sound, blurring his vision.
"You still have to convince me that you are worthy of my punishment – and then, eventually, my forgiveness."
Shadows and phantoms moved around him, closed in on him as noiselessly as they had closed in on his father.
"Stay clear of his face", Voldemort ordered coldly. "He must have a chance to keep up his disguise when he returns to Hogwarts."
Snape bit his lip to stifle the moans and cries that must have been rising in his throat as the Death Eaters unleashed their wrath upon him. The only sounds to be heard were the ruffling of robes, the shuffling of feet and soft thuds whenever a fist, a boot or a branch connected with some part of Snape's anatomy.
"Lucius, my friend, walk with me", Voldemort said.
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Harry shuddered. To know the fate waiting at the end of the tunnel and still to walk through, that took courage. For a moment he wondered which house the Sorting Hat would find appropriate for the Potions Master today.
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Snape sat on the edge of a tub in a richly decorated bathroom. His bare chest was covered with bruises and cuts, his arms scratched. Carefully Narcissa Malfoy dabbed a wet cloth over his pale skin, washing away the blood that had already started to crust. As she reached a particularly nasty bruise on his ribcage he inhaled sharply and reflexively drew back from her.
"Sorry", she muttered. He visibly tried to relax and she dared to continue her ministrations.
Lucius burst into the room, carrying several bottles and jars. A deep sigh escaped him upon seeing his battered friend and he exchanged a quick look with his wife.
"At least one broken rib; apart from that mainly bruises and cuts", she informed him softly, glancing up at the younger man's face earnestly and laying the cloth, by now blood stained, to the side. Lucius rested a hand on her arm shortly and she left the room, glancing back inside from the doorframe before leaving the two men alone.
Silently Malfoy opened one of the bottles and poured a generous amount of a shiny blue liquid into a glass. Snape accepted and drank it without a word, shuddering slightly as the potion ran through his body and grimacing at the taste.
Finally, while his friend applied different lotions and ointments onto his wounded body with practised hands, he spoke.
"I assume this was not it."
Lucius continued his work without looking at Snape.
"No. He as an assignment for you. You know where Karkaroff is?"
"No. But I could find out."
"Then better do it. Find him. Kill him. Bring his head before the Master."
Snape closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
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In the courtyard of an obviously long deserted factory Voldemort held court among his Death Eaters. White masks shone in the light of a slightly muddy moon that wandered across the sky. A fire was crackling away in a tastelessly merry fashion and licked red-golden tongues across Snape's pale skin. He stood face to face with Voldemort, maybe an arm's length from the other man, and surrounded by countless hooded figures. His eyes were cast down and in his hand there was a stained bag.
Trembling slightly he opened the bag, reached inside and pulled out a head by its short silver hair. Dark glassy eyes, frozen in a moment of surprise, stared at the fire, reflecting the flickering light like fragments of frosted glass. The silver-white goatee, which finished in a small curl, was dotted with little drops of blood.
Daring to raise his eyes from the bag and towards the Dark Lord Snape lifted the hand that held the severed skull. Voldemort nodded and the crowd around them cheered.
"Well done, my boy. I knew you hadn't lost your touch."
The high-pitched voice sounded eerie in its attempt to whisper. As Voldemort reached out to take the disgusting trophy from Snape and shortly touched his hand Snape shuddered and lowered his eyes again.
With a thin-lipped smile Voldemort threw Karkaroff's head into the fire, watching for a moment as the flames licked over the waxen skin as if tasting the offered prey before devouring it hungrily. Then he turned towards the Death Eaters and silenced them with a dramatic gesture.
"Another traitor has met his well-deserved fate. And another brother has returned home."
Snapping his fingers impatiently at Wormtail he reached out for something that the smaller man had kept hidden behind his back and offered it to Snape. It was a white mask, identical to the ones that surrounded them.
"The first part of the way is done", he declared, watching as Snape accepted the disguise and put it on with practiced hands.
"You may rejoin your brothers in their effort to achieve our common goal for you have proven yourself worthy of their company."
Snape bowed down low and started to walk towards a gap that had been opened for him in the circle. He hadn't quiet reached his place yet, looking into the relieved blue eyes of Lucius Malfoy twinkling at him from underneath a nearby mask, when he heard a rustling of robes behind him.
"And you have also proven yourself worthy of my punishment."
Slowly he turned around and faced his master once more, fists clenched at his sides, his breathing a little laboured.
"Crucio!"
As he slumped to the ground in a heap of fire and agony he heard Voldemort say:
"In time you may even earn my forgiveness and trust again."
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It was a sunny day and Snape looked out of a window over what seemed to be the Hogwarts grounds. Behind him soft hooting noises could be heard and Minerva McGonagall called his name impatiently.
"Severus, will you give me that potion now?"
Tearing his gaze away from the blue and green outside he turned around and stepped up to the Deputy Headmistress. In the palm of her hand she held a tiny screech owl that twittered nervously and nibbled at her fingers with half-hearted anger.
From his robes Snape drew a little bottle which contained a gooey liquid. With an elegant move he uncorked the bottle and poured the liquid into the bird's beak, held open by a determined Minerva McGonagall. The whole procedure didn't last longer than a couple of seconds after which the bird hastily flew off and found a safe place on a prop high up under the ceiling, away from groping human hands.
McGonagall started heading for the door, throwing an impatient look back into the room.
"Aren't you coming?"
With that she walked out and started her descent from one of the innumerable towers back to the main hall.
"You're welcome", Snape said loudly before he followed, catching up with her easily with his long strides.
Passing the main hall they came across Albus Dumbledore who was talking to Filch, offering the other man a Sherbet Lemon and stroking Mrs. Norris behind her long furry ears. Filch used the two teachers' approach as an obviously appreciated reason to excuse himself and fled off along the next corridor.
"Sherbet Lemon, anyone?" Dumbledore asked happily. Snape and McGonagall exchanged an exasperated look before declining politely. Dumbledore shrugged and put one of the sticky sweets into his mouth, smacking his lips together in evident pleasure.
They had all started heading off in different directions – McGonagall up to her rooms, Snape down towards the Dungeons, Dumbledore out into the yard – when the headmaster suddenly reached out a hand and held the Potions Master back.
"Did everything go well, Severus?"
The blue eyes shone with expectant curiosity. Snape looked down at the hand resting on his arm thoughtfully before he met Dumbledore's gaze. Then he nodded.
"Yes, of course."
"Excellent!"
Dumbledore's face shone with contentment.
"Well done, my boy. You will keep me updated?"
"Certainly."
Snape's voice was as unreadable as his facial expression as he watched the headmaster step through the open doors into the sunshine outside. From the top of the staircase Minerva McGonagall looked down on him, frowning slightly. He gave her a forced smile and disappeared down towards the dungeons.