Snape was again seated in the Great Hall when she next chose to make her appearance.

It is time.

Time for what? he demanded, having given up on being surprised when her voice sounded in his head.

Time for Sirius Black to make his appearance, back from the dead.

So he is alive.

Did I say that? He is not dead, but he is not alive. What is this thing you call death? No one is ever truly dead. There are still living cells in even the coldest corpse that might be revived. A living cow could be cloned from the steak in front of you. It is not dead, but you insist it is not alive.

Snape put down his fork, appetite suddenly gone.

But you said Sirius Black was coming, he thought. Now?

Yes.

On cue, every candle in the hall flickered, and went out. The room was plunged into darkness. The more excitable students screamed, and some teachers leapt to their feet, wands at the ready.

The massive double doors across from them swung open with a bang, framing the haggard figure that stood in the doorway. All eyes turned towards, him, and a dead, oppressive silence filled the room as he took a step forwards.

From the corner of his eye, Snape saw a figure start forwards. It was Potter.

"Sirius!"

NO.

The boy's body jerked spasmodically, leaving no doubt in Snape's mind that he wasn't the only one to feel the command. Potter strained towards the figure of his godfather, but invisible hands held him back. Suddenly, he shuddered wildly, and fell forwards onto the cold stone floor.

A wild, chittering noise of disappointment filled the hall, echoing from the middle of the hall outwards. Snape felt something brush past his head, and a few people ducked involuntarily.

HE IS MINE

At the last word, Snape was rudely jerked from his body.

His eyes snapped open, and he sat up carefully, nursing his aching body. Where was he? The room was familiar. The view outside the window was tropical. He was in the castle.

A sudden fear gripped his heart. If he was in the castle, then she must have his body. Panicked, he threw open the door and ran down the hallway. He had to find a way out of this place and find out what she was doing.

He tripped over his own feet running down the spiral staircase, but made it to the front hall. A flicker of movement caught his eye. The wizard standing in front of the main doors looked up.

"You," he hissed.

Mouth dry, Snape bowed stiffly. "Lord."

Voldemort sneered. "Don't think you can escape death at my hands by bowing and scraping," he snarled. "You betrayed me. The Dark Lord has a long memory, Professor, and I do not reward traitors." His inhuman eyes narrowed suddenly. "But what are you doing here?" he mused. "What has she promised you?"

Snape moved away, ignoring him. There was nothing he could do; the island was governed by natural laws that resisted the idea of magic. Much as he would love to be the one to kill Lord Voldemort, they were both unarmed.

Despite his effort to show indifference, Voldemort's next words brought him up short.

"She has promised me great things," Voldemort continued. "I will be invincible. Harry Potter will die, and the world will be purged of mudbloods and muggles alike."

Snape turned to face him. "And you trust her?" he asked, mouth dry.

"She promised to give me everything I asked for." The madness reflected in his eyes was hypnotizing. "She gave me her word. She cannot go back on that. Words are binding."

"But why should she keep her promises?" Snape demanded. "What does she stand to gain?"

"Fear. Terror." Voldemort smiled coldly. "I will give her human pain and suffering. That is what she stands to gain from my reign."

Looking into his eyes, Snape could see the truth behind the words, and he was horrified. There were things repugnant to even the most embittered men.

"You're mad," he rasped.

The reptilian smile didn't leave Voldemort's face. "Maybe so. But I will crush Dumbledore and his allies, and then the question of my sanity will be insignificant, won't it?"