This chapter picks up right after the previous chapter. You might even want to re-read the last little bit of it just get the dialogue fresh in your mind. I have not been making any money off of or from the gibbering that you will find below. The original stuff (not cannon) is mine. The familiar stuff (cannon) is J. K. Rowling's.
Chapter Six:
"Then my information was accurate." The Dark Lord sounded pleased.
He motioned to a chair and it obediently drew its self across the stone floor and came to rest behind him. He had naturally chosen the most ornate chair, but when he was seated he allowed Snape to summon himself a chair. Imperceptibly shifting a hand Snape called one of the chairs to him. It moved to stand before the empty fireplace and turned to face, a little on the diagonal, Lord Voldemort.
These private meetings had been routine before 'the fall', but to have them resumed so casually was not exactly in line with Snape's Ideal Scenario Number One.
Ideal Scenario Number One involved a long dead Voldemort, disbanded Death Eaters and a clean soul. Ideal scenario number two, a somewhat less than perfect version of number one, involved minimally organized Death Eaters and a weakened Voldemort, who would be easily defeated, plus some sort of personal atonement.
'It looks like Worst Case Scenario Number One,' Snape thought darkly.
He could feel his pulse slow and his breathing become deep and even, as he settled into an old pattern of behavior. Had he been hooked up to a muggle lie detector, he could have claimed to be the lost princess Anastasia and not set off any alarms. The years of 'waiting' had not diminished his ability to hide his thoughts and emotions. Plus the recent dose of Plasti-juice, which helped a great deal.
'Just because he didn't use his wand to summon the chair doesn't mean he's at full strength again.'
It was a pitiful attempt at self-delusion.
"I once told you of the deception that Muggle loving fool Dumbledore was guilty of." Voldemort had managed to find another opening line that sent Snape reeling.
"Yes Master." He replied his tone automatically void of emotion.
'Like I'm supposed to have forgotten why I turned against him in the first place?'
He's obviously not just reminiscing
'But why bring up such a –'
What? You've never known him to string someone along until they gave themselves away?
"The two, are related," he stated. A question could be a suicidal move, but a carefully worded statement could get information.
Voldemort's Mouth twisted into a sadistic version of a smile of approval. "Ss-everu-ss," he purred, "I am pleased to find that time has not taken your loyalty or your, boldness. You will need both for the task I have set for you."
The use of his first name was an old device designed to work two ways. It was a constant reminder of the past, as well as a gesture of intimacy meant to strengthen bonds. It had never truly stopped working.
So desperate to belong, as a child, Severus had accepted a twisted form of codependence in place of nothing, and nothing is all that ever came…
'The strange thing is,' Snape lashed back, 'they both need me, to get to each other.' He dropped his eyes as he spoke to the Dark Lord. "I will serve you without fail, as always Master, I-" Snape's smooth reply was choked off as black sludge blocked his airway, causing him to choke on a cough. 'Sitting by the hearth just incase such a catastrophe like this happened was a good idea.' Snape almost laughed, 'At least I'm sure of not throwing-up on his shoes.'
There was a look close to actual concern on the Dark Lord's face as he watched Snape, coughing, fall to the floor and crawl toward the fireplace.
Voldemort remained seated as long as he could, trying to hold his composure. 'I can't loose you now Severus!' the sudden, intensity of his panic drove him to act before he thought. As Snape continued to cough and spit Voldemort rose, took a few steps closer and kneeling next to him, brushed the hair back from Snape's eyes and tucked it behind his ear. "Severus," he whispered, "why did you not tell me it had progressed so far?"
Not comfortable having anyone so close, but too weak to push away, Snape focused on breathing between the heaves that had replaced the coughing.
The physical contact it's self was not new. Over the years they had developed a sort of unhealthy closeness based on desperation and deception. Snape needed a father figure after Dumbledore had fallen from his pedestal. Voldemort carefully positioned himself to fill that void –the void he himself had created. At some point though, Voldemort had become ensnared in his own illusion, growing to care for Snape almost like a father would his son.
Leaning into the fireplace to spit a final time, Snape caught his breath before answering. "I have an appointment to see a, specialist, tonight –" Snape suddenly collapsed as waves of fatigue dizziness and finally oblivion swept over him.
Looking into Severus' eyes to make sure that he was coming-to, unharmed, Voldemort released a hiss of relief as the other man's black eyes flickered open.
'Red?' was Snape's first thought on waking. As he continued to surface from the formless dark that had surrounded him, he found himself completely helpless and lying on the floor…with his head in the Dark Lord's lap. It was not something Snape expected to awaken to.
Calmly he sat up and Voldemort resumed his seat.
Being calm in the presence of unexpected evil had been one of the first skills he had developed as a new recruit, at the age of fifteen –the fact that, thanks to the Plasti-juice, he had also been twelve was one of the first things he'd confessed to his new Master.
Slowly, Snape rose and sat back down in his own chair.
After a long silence Voldemort spoke. "Ss-everu-ss, you are sure this 'specialist' can be trusted? The ministry is already watching you."
"Master," Snape's voice faltered, taking a few breaths he tried again, "I will carry out your orders, you have only to give a command."
Voldemort blinked his eyes in shock, 'He just ignored a direct question. Now he is trying to behave as thougth he did not just faint. Could he have progressed so far that It is strong enough, now, to reject the fusion…?'
As Albus entered the house he ignored the usual polite convention. "Alastor, this is a thing best kept in the closet."
Alastor Moody merely closed the front door and led the way to a smallish room that he had personally spy-proofed, it was also warded with secrecy and concealment charms, some of which he had created himself. Seated in the private room and sipping tea, Alastor –with uncharacteristic tact– waited for his friend to start the conversation.
"We need to reactivate the Alicorn Warriors," Albus announced, softly.
Moody set down his cup and took a moment to really look at Albus. 'His hands are shaking,' he also noticed, with alarm, that the usually 'merry' Headmaster was looking drawn and tired. "So," he paused for a moment, "you have decided to fight again?"
"We have no choice." Albus grit his teeth for a brief instant. "Fudge is ignoring the recent Death Eater attacks, claiming that they are just a, '…sign of the degeneration of society….' Meanwhile he is turning a blind eye to the evidence of Voldemort's return. Severus was right, he is a fool." Albus nearly spat the last word. "Now Fudge is trying to shut down the school!" Calming himself, he continued, "That is what brought me into London last night," wearily he closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair.
"Speaking of Severus…" Alastor said, shifting the conversation back to issues that needed to be discussed, and leaving Fudge for another less hurried conversation. 'Preferably one with a few shots of whisky,' he thought. "I have heard rumors that Snape is not doing well."
"Then," Albus perked up a bit, "you still have contacts within the ministry?"
"Of course I do." Moody snorted. "And they have been whispering rumors of PMR. Is it true? Has he been diagnosed with it?" His voice had risen, slightly, with a note of urgency.
He watched as Albus' expression became filled with pain. He needed no other answer.
"Is he getting a second opinion?" Alastor asked.
"Yes. Tonight in fact." Albus answered, then followed with a question of his own. "You sound rather concerned. Do you think it's the same thing that Severa is going through?"
"She was able to get an appointment last week, the results aren't back yet. We won't know what it is for another three weeks. That's all I know." Moody ended with a frustrated sigh. Seeing the incredulous look Albus sent him though, he grumbled, "This mysterious specialist she saw takes only night appointments and chooses whom he will treat. She wouldn't tell me anything else about him."
Albus nodded in understanding, with a slight laugh he added, "I think they are seeing the same doctor, Severus has a similarly mysterious appointment." Setting aside his cold tea Dumbledore began on a slightly less difficult topic. "I received a letter from the ministry, it was very late arriving. Basically it stated that the school would be shut down unless I came into compliance with some new regulation that I haven't heard of. I think we may be able to use it to solve several of our problems."
Alastor shook his head, "This conversation is getting too convoluted for me. What problems are they claiming that closingthe school would solve!"
Albus ignored him. "The regulation they cited concerns the hiring of co-ed co-Heads of House. From the meetings that I managed to get this morning I have been able to arrange for a grace period of one month. That's one month in which I must find four people to co-head the houses of Hogwarts, They must not only sort into the appropriate House they also need to be the opposite sex of the Heads of House that I already have."
Hope began to creep across Moody's face at Albus' words.
"I will obviously need someone who is a Slytherin, and female."
Alastor challenged, "And you think that getting those two together again would work?"
"I hadn't thought of it in quite that way." Albus hesitated. "Do you think there could be trouble?"
"Yes." Alastor shrugged. "But, we face more trouble with them apart and the ministry looking into things."
"Agreed," Albus reluctantly got to his feet, "I must return to the ministry. I have a meeting with the Under Minister of Education at two o'clock."
"You should think about sending an owl to warn Severus that we are going to call the senior members of The Order to meet soon." Moody offered by way of parting. "I don't think it's the kind of thing he would appreciate being surprised by."
"You're right, of course, I will send him a note on the way to my meeting. He should be just about over the harsher effects of the Plasti-juice by now."