Sorry everyone that I haven't updated! I've had months of exams to endure, so its sympathy I need, not angry, woe-bringing mobs. Its true! "Look sir if you don't believe me I'll bring in a note tomorrow from my mother, ok?"

A/N: Don't worry about the last chapter- if you get it, good, if you don't, that's not important. The real action, however, begins here in this chapter, Chapter 1 of the book Cerulean Skies. Time Period now: Summer after 5th book.

'R' rated chapter! Beware! You have been warned... Foul Play. Scenes may anger some people.

...oO0Oo...

Memories of the Past, Visions of the Future.

The Potions Master of Hogwarts was sitting beside his desk, alone. He was vaguely aware of the warm, crackling fire beyond and the drafts that resulted from the perilous storm outside endeavouring to extinguish it. His mind was deeply involved elsewhere however, so that his furrowed brow became more defined and tiny creases appeared around his darkening eyes. In his hands he held a small, well-kept notebook that smelt of time, dust, old cologne and smoke.

After a moment he turned and placed the open book on the desk, allowing more light to fall on its yellow-tinged pages. Pages that were graced with now faded ink, and letters that flowed smoothly into each other forming words, yet retaining their individual perfection. If only I could write like that now, he thought. Over the years the book's owner had forgotten the art of calligraphy, and more-so the memories that he had recorded with it.

As the Professor read, his ebony-black eyes reflected clearly the volatile twisting and flickering of the firelight. Subconsciously he noted that it was as if the fire too was reacting to the things he read – flaring up with anger or subsiding with slight pangs of guilt and sadness. The man reached out and took a sip of the clear liquid in a small glass beside him, which was certainly not water. After his lips were moistened and his throat stinging in the bitter after-effects of the deceptive liquid, Severus reluctantly lowered his flame-glazed eyes once more to behold the words that unleashed his terrible crimes forgotten.

xxxxxxxx(Flashback as he reads the diary)xxxxxxxx

The night air was as cold and still as ice. The heavy, grey clouds above, which hid the usually burning fires of the stars, threatened snow. This was unlucky for the poor souls who stood out in it. Of course, some of them were just plain stupid, others, however, had little choice. To stand inside in the warmth, you had to be special. And to be special, you had to make money. To make money, you had to be very pretty, and very good. Otherwise you were condemned to a harsh existence in the street, where all you could do to attract attention was to use your body, or possibly even your wit. It was a bitch-eat-bitch life at best, where you were told that your body did not belong to you, but to your mistress, because she fed and clothed your neglected body, who in turn belonged to her master, because he would kill her if she did not.

On this particular night it was rumoured that the master wished to pay a visit to his 'lady', which these past months had become increasingly rare. He apparently had other things to attend to in these Dark times.

Women gathered hopelessly around the door of the brothel. There would hardly be any customers for them tonight, they thought, wandering through these streets in the gloomy midnight air.

"Men would rather stay at home with their wrinkly old wives, than snuggle up to our warm bosoms!" One of the larger ones voiced aloud, expecting none to reply. So she was rather shocked when not only a reply came, but it was from a man; a tall and handsome man who was lurking in the shadows across the street, his face half hidden in the darkness. He was leaning casually on a short, intricately carved silver and mahogany staff.

"All our wives put together couldn't match you, Isabel." His charming and educated voice rang out clearly and attracted the stares of every female present. The woman in question was clearly flustered at his presence and moved closer to him.

"Oh my! Sir, I didn't see you arrive! We were expecting our master, though. He should be 'ere soon. Will he be staying long d'you think?"

"No, I believe he is only coming to smooth out an issue with your mistress. It will not take long." The man's voice was laden with meaning.

"Nothing serious I hope?" The woman batted her over mascara-ed eyes innocently at him.

"Only a slight 'glitch' in the system, as they say." His silver orbs glinted with malice. Isabel did not seem to notice, however.

"I'm surprised he's coming personally, though. If he'd just sent you..." She moved still closer to him. Her hands began to caress his chest through the black robes then moved up to his firm shoulders, massaging them. "It could've been your lucky night." Another younger and taller, but fearfully thin woman broke away from the group and approached the blonde haired aristocrat.

"Perhaps we could entertain you while you wait? There is plenty of room inside by the fire, and as you know the wine is always excellent." Her voice was tantalising and her words well chosen and practiced. "All we desire is some company, Sir." Other harlots began to move, suddenly very interested. Isabel's hands descended over his body and down his arms. A small, bloodless smile rose to his lips, but his eyes remained cool and focused. Then, Isabel gasped in horror.

As her hands had begun to run up and down the man's left sleeve, it caught on one of her many bracelets and slid up towards his elbow. When Isabel looked across to free herself, she saw something that chilled her to the bone. The black symbol of terror glared at her from beneath his rolled cuff. The Dark Mark. She screamed, clamping her hand to her mouth and leapt back, falling to the cold, hard stone beneath. Her high heel was wedged in a crack between the cobbles.

The other women moved away immediately, not knowing what had happened until another shouted "The Dark Mark!" loud enough for all to hear, pointing to the sky. Sure enough, there it was in all its formidable glory, blazing brighter than the new moon. Fear spread among them like wind through a valley. Women began frantically piling through the doors of the brothel, screaming and shoving, fighting desperately for their pathetic lives. As if they stood a chance in there.

"Lambs to the slaughter" the Death Eater in their midst noted, as he watched the scene. "They're coming. You can run, but you cannot hide." he called maliciously to those who remained. At a glance, he saw that Isabel still lay on the ground not far from him, tugging at her shoe. In one fluid movement, he bent over her and fastened his gloved hand around her jaw like a vice. His voice was no longer soft and casual; his words rang with a cruel, murderous tone. Now he meant business.

"I would take my gloves off, but I wouldn't want to get my hands dirty." He began spitefully. "Go inside and warn your mistress that our Master has declared she is to reap what she has sown. We know she has been toying with us. But this game, we don't play. Nikita cannot slave for two masters, for she is bound to betray one... She has chosen, and may the Dark Lord have pity on her for I do not." He threw the horrified woman backwards to the ground and stepped away from her. When she lingered pitifully, he seized her by the arm and struck her hard across the face. Isabel's breathing became shallow as two tears slid down her burning cheek. "Get out of my sight, harlot." Lucius spat, pushing the woman towards the door. She stumbled across the street on her weak and aching legs, barely able to see the door through the veil of tears, never mind open it.

A moment later, a familiar chuckle sounded from the corner of the street nearby. "I don't think Narcissa would take that kind of treatment from you, being a sister of this one." The short but stocky man had a twisted grin on his haggard face and jabbed his thumb behind him.

"She learnt from the best. Now, Lucius, where is my darling husband? He should've arrived already." A dark featured woman strode gracefully from behind her associate and commented on his remark while walking over to the man whom she addressed.

"Bellatrix, glad you could make it. I have not yet seen Roldolphus, but he will come. Mulciber, however, I fail to understand why you should be present. All you will do after all is take advantage of the women."

"Got it in one, Malfoy. You're gettin' sharper." The fellow Death Eater sighed wearily at his colleague. There was too much still to do for him to get angered at this stage over a lame retort made by that underdog. "Where's Crabbe and Goyle?"

"They're too destructive. The Dark Lord felt it would better if they did not attend this raid. I completely agree." A soft snapping noise nearby pulled him from his thoughts. He turned to address the final member of their posse tonight.

"Your wife was looking for you, Roldolphus." His silver eyes shone casually. "You should've left her at home, come out and had a good time with the boys for a change." Bellatrix shot him a filthy look. Her husband, however, laughed half-heartedly and stepped over to his wife. His only show of his deep love for her was a gentle stroke on her soft cheek, anything more would've been inappropriate. He was rewarded with a smile.

Mulciber grunted and let his lazy eyes drift over to the faded red door of the brothel. Lucius, on the other hand, turned from the pair to the black shadows where Roldolphus had emerged from and squinted into the darkness. No-one had yet spotted the final member of their group, who had in fact arrived at the same time as Lucius. In one particular spot against the wall, he noted, was something blacker than the shadows, something that seemed to draw in all the specks of light reaching it, reflecting nothing. The longer he looked; it began to take on the form of a man.

"Severus, come join us. The celebrations will soon begin." The person did not move immediately, then they turned their head and the whites of their eyes sparkled eerily in the lamp light.

"These celebrations do not befit my taste." The soft, almost inaudible murmur still cut through the air clearly enough for Lucius to hear it.

"Come on, it'll just be like old times. We'll show the ladies what we're really made of," he added with an evil glint in his eye.

After a brooding moment, the younger man emerged from the shadows in a whirl of midnight black robes and stood beside his friend. He answered quietly, "Lucius, I'm trying to forget those painful years of my life. Some things are better left in the past." The others noticed him, finally, and briefly nodded in recognition.

"Yes, you are right Severus, it is time to move on," he said, taking him by the shoulders gently "and look what the wonderful new future holds for us. All we have to do is grasp it. That's what our Lord has been saying all along – shock the system, weaken it, then take what you want. This society was held together by frail, old bastards. Now is the time to take it, seize power now that He's in control. It's what we've planned, calculated, manipulated and then waited so long for. Absolute power is what we've wanted all along ... are you too weak to seek it, my friend?" Lucius' silver eyes glowed strangely, almost with religious awe as he spoke, which intrigued the other. Severus glanced at the door of the brothel darkly and allowed his lip to curl up in a half smile. The elder took this as one of his many subtle forms of acquiescence, so he went on. "What were you doing back there anyway?"

"I was merely preparing myself for the task at hand and did not wish to be disturbed, Lucius." Snape told him, with a hint of admonition. He glanced over at Bellatrix and her husband. "However, since you seem anxious to get this party started, and everyone appears to be present... I'd say it's time. She'll be ready for us." Lucius nodded slightly at his friend and said softly, "I hope you are assured about whatever was on your mind." Then he turned to address the others but before he could move, a pale, thin hand touched his arm. "I haven't yet been given the chance to prove myself to Him, and quite frankly I look forward to the opportunity." Severus whispered to assure him, hopefully not too enthusiastically. His friend's silver eyes in turn glinted with pleasure.

"Then you shall have your wish. Everyone, it is time. Don your masks."

The truth was I sincerely disliked the finer points of this business. There were so many unnecessary deaths. So many people could have been spared. Killing out of necessity or to instruct was one issue, but for pleasure? I could never give myself wholeheartedly to that. Especially of women.

We stormed the door. Some ran up the large staircase to the upper rooms where most were likely to be, the rest cleaned up downstairs. Our primary objective was Nikita, however, a woman I had never even met before, although I was well acquainted with the family personally so I knew roughly what she would look like – small physique, long black hair and likely dark green eyes.

There was no one to be seen, initially. Then some of us began to fire spells around the room, completely obliterating everything and revealing the hidden ones. One young, desperate child flung herself at Roldolphus, allowing a distraction for her friend to run past him to the door– directly into my hands. The child reacted viciously, biting and kicking, and her teeth were sharp. My grip on her soon began to slip. The brat became awkward and tore my wand from my hands, throwing it across the floor.

"Alright there, Snape?" came a mocking call from the room. I shot Roldolphus a look he has not forgotten till this day. It shut him up at least. The child twisted in my arms, attempting to bite through the sleeve. I held her waist tight in my arms so she could not twist again. Then she began to scream, loudly. That was about all I could take. In one swift movement, I locked my arm securely around her head, and pulled back. The crunch was ever so soft, but my ears did not miss it. Her voice immediately petered away. Her last breath taken. The child's expression at last became serene. Slowly, I walked into the other room already strewn with stiff carcasses and laid her small body gently on the bloodstained chaise-longe. The scene affected me more than it should have, it seems. But at least now she was at peace. Lucky girl, I, however, still have to recover from my wounds.

A slight lump rose to my throat, but I quickly banished it. This was certainly not the first time I had killed someone, but as the child died in my arms she whispered something. I could only just make it out; she said "I forgive you." She forgave me, and she didn't even know her killer. Although her words were unlike her actions, I felt something well up inside me. Initially I cast her as stupid to say such a thing, but upon reflection I could not ignore it.

Lucius was right. This is what it's all about - power, dominance, control and submission led to greatness for some but death and angst for the rest. Suddenly and unexpectedly I felt a wave of empathy for these poor creatures. It was so uncharacteristic of me I wondered if I was unwell. I later learned that it was a human feeling, and the first step to recognising the spell of deception that I was under. The only way out now is death, I thought. My eyes darkened heavily behind my untainted mask at this realisation. Already my sickened heart grew leaden with anxiety. Lucius would never know how right he was sometimes. No, none of them could ever know. To them, all I could be was the faithful servant, like them. I could not betray myself and my suddenly, innocently seditious musings. I'm in too deep to change my mind. The Dark Lord is my Master now, and still, he generously rewards his faithful. I turned to the others with a solemn expression; they were leaving. My eyes beheld the massacre of youth before me through strands of black hair parting my vision. The scene was becoming all too familiar. Yet it still amazes me what five Death Eaters can do in two minutes.

As I stood, something by the fireplace caught my eye. It was a medal. On it was a strange holographic symbol of a coat of arms. Alarm bells suddenly began to ring in the back of my mind. Where had I seen this before? Quickly I strode to the hall to retrieve my wand then returned and tapped the face of the medal with it. At first nothing happened. Then it began to swirl. This puzzled me so I placed my hand on it, sensing that this was more than an ordinary medallion. The metal glowed at my touch, and then the whole fireplace began to retreat. I jerked back, startled, my eyes flitting back and forth as the wall before me transformed into an upwards spiralling stone passageway. Cautiously, I entered.

I let my sight adjust naturally to the sudden lack of light, saving my wand for more important things, (for I am well aware of what women can do when they are threatened). At the top of the passageway a door revealed itself from the shadows. It opened at my command.

The first thing to strike me when I entered the room was the soft fragrance of women. Not the rich perfumes that laced the air downstairs so thickly it made breathing a difficulty, no, this was their natural essence. It was so subtle and delicate; I felt it would be hard to resist anything a woman presented. I remained at the doorway, carefully watching, taking in the rich blend of aromas. It was delightful, coupled with the pleasing soft shades of red and purple adorning the room. I closed my eyes briefly, concentrating again on all the natural oils diffusing through the air. There were jasmine, lily, rose... my mind was beginning to settle, why was I here again? Then a moment later my dimming senses picked up minute traces of something else... Nightshade? Hellebore? Oh God, not Monkshood?! There was a lethal, toxic concoction heavily lacing the air I breathed. My eyes burst open. I found I could not focus precisely on anything and I could already taste the bitter tingling of the monkshood on my tongue. My mind was beginning to numb... It is an awful, disconcerting experience when you know that it is the first sign of poisoning. Yet I found strange thoughts passing through my mind as I stood there. Whoever made that potion was good... I knew all the effects of nightshade and its deadly components, belladonna, henbane and thorn apple – dilation of the pupils, dryness of the mouth, quickened pulse... paralysis, even delirium. Then suddenly I knew - there is someone else in this room waiting for me. This I had not expected. I would have to act fast. Then I saw her.

As I reached into my black robes, my vision unsteady, a slim figure also draped all in black emerged from behind a full-length mirror at the other side of the room, wand aimed directly at my chest. Her mouth was already forming the words. I swerved as quickly as my struggling mind would allow and dived behind the bed. Green light further illuminated the candle-lit room. It seemed the antidote would have to wait.

Soft footsteps padded across the carpet, moving around the bed. Silently, I crawled on my belly in the other direction. When I reached the large chest at the head of the bed, I chanced a peek at my pursuer. My jaw dropped for the first time in my life.

"Oh Merlin... What's she doing here?" I hadn't meant to say that out loud. She spun to face me; her piercing lilac eyes quickly located me.

"You'll never find her before you die." Her rich, illustrious voice cut through the air to my ears.

"I'd say the nightshade would sooner see me dead than you." I told her tonelessly. She laughed.

"Very good, but don't expect me to have mercy on you."

"I have never desired pity from anyone, as you well know." I answered truthfully. This time her eyes narrowed as she took a step closer, her wand still at the ready.

"I know no Death Eaters. Nor do I want to be acquainted with such filth." Her words struck me. That's what I am. Filth. That woman always managed to shred my pride even without realising it, which was rather irritating.

"I understand more than you realise. Yet it still hurts to remember the days when you did not refer to me as filth." Now she gently lowered her wand.

"Severus?" Her barely audible voice was laden with unreadable emotions. Slowly I stood up, my hood casting a black shadow across my white masked face. She looked deep into my eyes, reluctantly. I felt something thing click within me just then, something I knew I would only understand much later. I made to move over to her. She raised her wand again. She could hardly speak.

"How could you, Severus, how?" This question, I could not answer. I would've tried to hide from her gaze the truth in my eyes but the poisons were acting along the lines of Veritaserum. There was nothing I could say or do. I just wanted to talk to her, to... to be with her again.

"I have missed you since the day you left." My senses where dampening, I could feel it; but the sadness in her eyes was unmistakable. She did not reply. I slowly reached into my robes and felt for the antidote to the poison. Something was wrong... it was not there.

"Looking for this?" She held it firmly in her hand. I suddenly realised she didn't intend to give it to me.

"Ursula...don't." My voice sounded weaker, sentences shorter. My body was beginning to slip; yet I struggled to not let it show. She knew at any rate that I would not use magic on her.

"No matter what our past, you are a Death Eater; a slave to Evil! That is all that matters now Severus." She paused painfully. "I thought you were better than that." I saw tears rise to her young, bright eyes as she gazed upon me, a black serpent. She was not corrupted by the darkness. Her innocence had kept her alive, while my foul acts were secretly eating away deep inside me like rot. "You came here to kill my sister. I can't let you do this. I'm sorry. I really did love you." That last sentence nearly murdered me more than what she was about to do. The vial in her hand shifted until it was poised over the ground at her feet. She raised her wand to it and turned away from me, a tear sliding across her cheek. I couldn't let her do it.

Within the blink of an eye I had reached both hands into inner pockets and revealed plan B, as they say. I threw them at her, knowing I would not miss. The knives were all connected by long strands of unbreakable cord. Using their own momentum and power, they wrapped tight around her small body then embedded themselves in the wall behind her. She was pinned and at my mercy. I hated seeing her like that; she was one of the most independent spirits I knew, and I loved her for it, only her.

"Don't bother struggle, it will only get tighter." I whispered breathlessly as a walked over to her. She struggled anyway. Slowly, I removed my mask. "You know I would never harm you." I gently stroked her cheek. She did not flinch at my cold touch. As I looked, I could see in her eyes that she meant every word she had said, however she doubted mine.

"Your eyes burned with warmth once, now all I see is black ice." Her beautiful eyes darkened but I did not pull my gaze from her in guilt.

"Seeing you, has rekindled that dying flame." I moved closer to her, my voice husky, locking with her gaze. Her full lips were unbearably close to my own. Slowly, I ran my hand softly down her neck and along her arm fixed tight by her side until I came to her hand. I did not bother try and prise it from her firm grasp, instead I cupped her hand in mine, sharing her warmth meanwhile. It was up to her should she see me die; and she knew it. Another crystal tear broke down her silk cheek. God, she was still so beautiful, even when she cried. Yet I didn't love her for her physical perfection. My dark gaze penetrated her soft, delicate one glazed with tears of inner pain. "They are coming." They would kill her.

Slowly she released the vial into my hand and closed her eyes, abandoning herself to me. In a moment I had drained the vial and tossed it onto the floor where it smashed due to its frailty. The liquid coursed through my veins like a refreshing drop of water on a wasted land. My senses stopped reeling at last. The gathering fog in my mind dispersed.

I moved my hand up to her cheek. She opened her eyes, not looking me in the eye. I saw fear. "You have changed, Ursula. You were never like this."

"It seems that makes two of us. Finding you allied with my deadliest enemy has crushed any hope and faith I had. That and my impeding doom." She spoke softly and with more than a hint of betrayal. I could not reply. There was nothing I could do to quell her fears. Yes, it was highly likely that she was about to die, and painfully, because she was loyal to the whereabouts of her sister. We both knew it. The thought made my stomach churn. Were these to be our last moments after all? My mind began to race. With all my intelligence I could not think how to save her. She wouldn't run either.

"Is this how we say goodbye?" I could not hold back all the emotion that that sentence incurred. Once again she turned away from me. I brought my other hand to her face and forced her to look into my eyes. "If I can free you, will you find it in your heart to forgive me?"

"You must choose for yourself which path you want to follow. No one else can make that decision but you." This time she did not try to look away. I understood this to be an acceptance of my offer. Her lilac eyes stared back at me like a child's, full of reliance and hope. I slid my hand round the back of her neck to support her head, meanwhile lowering my mouth to meet hers. At first I was unsure if she would respond accordingly, but she did, to my surprise. Memories awoke in the back of my mind as we kissed in the candle-lit darkness. Her lips were just as soft and warm as they had been half a decade ago and I admit, my thoughts drifted substantially more than expected.

"Well, look what we have here!" Lucius, damn his soul! I tore my mouth reluctantly from hers, embarrassed not to have sensed him earlier. "Don't let me stop you old boy; we're all here to have a bit of fun." He waltzed in and knocked over a few delicate little things on tables. Then he looked over at Ursula. I prayed deep inside that he wouldn't recognise her. If he did, things would get difficult.

"Not bad Severus. What's her name?" He was getting curious. This was not good.

"Rebecca." I lied quickly.

"Really, she looks remarkably like Nikita's sister... Are you sure?" He turned to me. I provided him with a perfect look of disgust.

"Legilimency never fails," I pointed out. He accepted it with a raised brow.

"I see, so that's what you were doing... She's a fine creature." After a smile, Lucius moved closer to her and examined her face like an animal, with his snake-headed staff. She shot him a dirty look with her piercing violet eyes. "Hmm. Striking."

"Lucius - the air is poisoned, we must leave." I told him urgently.

"That's not poison Severus, it's called perfume." I gave him a withering look. If only he knew how much danger he was in.

"Breathe deeper, Lucius." I instructed him. He did, and almost choked.

"Alright I believe you," he croaked, making his way to the door.

"Found anyone yet?" I inquired innocently. He shook his head with disappointment. I was only reassured, however, when I heard his footsteps quickly descend the stairs.

"Will he be alright?" Ursula asked after a moment with a tone that suggested she hoped my reply would be negative.

"He'll live to fight another day." I swiftly removed the knives from the wall, replaced them into my robes and tied the loose cords. She understood. I led her to the top of the staircase, replaced my mask and swept her up into my arms. It was obvious she hadn't been expecting it and her surprise amused both of us, contrasting with the growing tension brought on by the sight of my visor.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, we were greeted with a roomful of carcasses, sofas, wailing women and masked Death Eaters aligned in two short rows. None spoke when they saw me. I lowered Ursula and pushed her brusquely to her knees before them.

"Throw her in with the rest of them," a muffled voice spoke. I proceeded to do so when I sensed another presence in the room, and I wasn't the only one. Some women began to make more noises, which I quickly dismissed with a firm slap, and even my comrades shifted nervously as a hollow, eerie wind swept through the room, chilling us to the bone. This is it, I thought. My Master has arrived.

(to be continued... oh yes there's plenty more to come)

A/N: Thanks for all your reviews! don't get emotional spiral's was so nice! Well relatively speaking, to rest of my reviews for anything... I'm happy that someone other than my tortured friends wants to read this... Next chapter up within the month!! PS i've drawn out sketches of some characters if any one wants to see them, not great but they make things a little more interesting. Want them, email me. Also seriously considering upgrading this story to R rating. Hmmm....

Emahra(or something)-yes it was creepy, hence its under horror/suspense. And yes, you are meant to be confused ( slightly. Don't worry about it. You could if you wanted completely ignore that chapter and begin here. I'll reveal subtle clues as I go along as to who they are.

Spiral-Digger: Thanx!!yay! Someone else (other than my poor literary slaves called best friends) wants to read my story!!yay! My friend (nickywal2003 – fanfic) has written 2stories too. She's my best critic, so everything goes through her first. This chapter was edited 3 times to get it right! Phew! Hope its ok! Next few chapters are quite important and packed with dramatic events. Lookin forward to writing them! And as I said, All will be revealed, my friends...

Nebula Regina Zirconia (Queen of the Crystal Nebula)