Chapter 15 – Requiem for a Schoolboy
It hadn't taken long for Lucius Malfoy – the Dark Lord's liaison – to insinuate himself back into Severus' life. Now a graduate, he had kept track of Snape's progress through his discussions with Potions Master Sejanus Sartoris. Of course, the intervention of the Headmaster had put an end to those visits.
The very day after the bitter scene between Snape and the Marauders had occurred, Lucius and two of his Death Eater friends had paid Dumbledore's Dark child a visit.
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Lucius had taken pains to remind Severus in detail about the Marauders' seven-year harassment. He specifically reminded him about what had happened at the Lake – the incident that had capped all past humiliations and had led Snape to a suicide attempt in his fifth year.
And then Lucius, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Malthus Macnair had then taken the boy to meet Lord Voldemort himself. It was the meeting that would bring heartbreak and ruin to the young man's life.
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Sev had found himself near what he deduced was a pier alongside the ocean; as to what ocean he could not say. Everyone was prostrate upon the ground except for him. He blinked as a shimmer of powerful and malevolent energy manifested itself before them.
"You have done well, Macnair. But your little one does not know enough to prostrate himself before Me."
Sev felt himself being shoved roughly to the ground by that frightening energy. Something vile and stinking and powerful beyond words rummaged crudely through the thoughts inside his mind's Eye. He struggled to a kneeling position.
And then It had touched him, cupping his face and forcing his face up towards the abomination that had materialized in front of him.
It was the Dark Lord himself.
Voldemort.
O Gods!
Sev's instinctive reaction was to break away and flee. Knowing he could not show weakness, the boy suppressed his emotions.
"Ssseverus Sssilanus Sssnape, I have waited a long while for you to come before me. There is only one wizard I have awaited longer, and you will help bring him before me," the Dark Lord crooned. "You're wondering who that wizard is, aren't you, Severus? Dumbledore's rampant favoritism of anything Gryffindor has stung your pride and brought you here to me."
"Pride has nothing to do with my being here."
The Dark Lord laughed, a sound reminiscent of a death rattle and a black curse. "Oh, your pride has everything to do with it. You can hide nothing from me. I can see within your soul." Voldemort grabbed the boy's robe and yanked him upright. "Legilimens!"
Severus felt the Dark Lord force his way into his memories; the boy had allowed it, culling his thoughts so that Voldemort only saw what he wanted him to see.
Severus shuddered as the mental attack abated. The Dark Lord chuckled.
"What did you do to me?" Snape said evenly, careful not to let his own terror show. He would not feed this living horror's sadism if he could help it.
"You don't like my seeing your secrets, do you? I know everything about you. Your dreams and aspirations as well as your nightmares – all of it." Voldemort's hand ran down Severus' left arm. "Such a pretty little Dark child."
Severus suppressed the urge to scream.
"Listen to me. I will help you mete revenge on all of your enemies if you join me."
"Why should I join you?"
"Listen well, little boy, and learn. That old fool Dumbledore doesn't understand your curiosity or the ability you possess. He doesn't care about you as much as I do. He is afraid of your talent! Hardly the actions of a man who is supposed to help you learn and succeed in the Wizarding world. I will see that your wish to become a Master of Potions becomes a reality if you come to me, Ssseverus." The Dark Lord's tongue tip actually trembled on his lip, just like the snake he so resembled.
Snape jutted his chin. "How can you ensure I would become a Master of the Art? What if I don't have the talent?"
"Oh, you have the talent. Believe me -- you have the talent."
"What do you want in exchange?"
"Only your services in brewing the potions I need," Voldemort replied.
"What sort of potions?"
"Whatever I ask for." His hand trailed down his chest. "What a beautiful boy you are, Ssseverus."
Show him you're not afraid even though the mere touch of this monster is enough to make you vomit!
Severus swallowed the bile that now rose to his lips. It was now or never, and he had promised Father he would do this for him.
"All right. If you can ensure I will be a Master of Potions, I will join you."
The Dark Lord grinned and seized the boy's arm. He pulled him over to a round stone that had the horned skull of a goat carved into it.
Bahamut!
Voldemort took out his wand and muttered a spell.
Severus tried to commit it to memory, but the pain that stabbed into the inside of his left arm drove away all rational thought.
HURTS IT HURTS OH IT HURTS!!!!!!!!!
The Dark Lord unhanded him as Severus Snape fell to the ground, and then vanished as suddenly as he had appeared.
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The three Slytherins who had brought him to this place now crowded around the newest member of Voldemort's Death Eaters. All advised him not to touch what they called his "Dark Mark".
Severus faded in and out of consciousness. Gradually, his mind cleared and the suffocating nausea he had felt loosened its grip. And then Lucius had shown him what Voldemort had burned into his arm; an angry skull with a snake curled around and through it.
"What in Seven Hells is that?"
"It is how our Master calls us. When you feel it burn, you are to Apparate to him," Malthus Macnair answered.
"How will I know where to go?"
"The Mark will tell you," Lucius replied. "Don't delay in Apparating to our Master when he calls you."
"Unlike the three of you, I'm still at Hogwarts. I can't just Apparate out of lessons," Severus answered.
"Our Master is aware of the difficulties facing you and will allow some measure of delay." The other two young Death Eaters then vanished, leaving Severus alone with Lucius Malfoy.
"I will be responsible for overseeing your training, Snape. Each Hogsmeade day, you will meet me at the Three Broomsticks. This won't attract any special attention because you stayed at my house this past summer. Everyone thinks we're the best of buddies. Imagine. Our poor little Snips, a Death Eater!"
The rest of the conversation faded from Snape's mind as surely as any hope he'd held that the Darkness would not envelop and destroy him.
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Later that evening, Albus Dumbledore had paid a call to Slytherin Tower, and Severus had shown him the Dark Mark.
The youth had been unable to sleep that night from the pain. His Dark Mark felt like scalded flesh. He had so wanted to visit Father to seek comfort but had restrained himself. How could he stand up to Voldemort if he couldn't deal with an injury to his arm? Severus knew that his suffering would get worse rather than better.
Much worse, in fact.
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Albus Dumbledore lay asleep in his rooms that same night, his old face twitching as his subconscious wrestled with the conflict in his heart. He had consigned a schoolboy to a life of duplicity and danger, after all. The Furies punished those who did such things, and these dreadful dreams were the result.
The Dream Dumbledore spied his Dark child by the lake.
"SEVERUS! I MUST TALK TO YOU!" he cried.
Snape turned, face deathly pale.
"YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS THING!" the old man cried. "DON'T DO IT, MY SON, IN THE NAME OF THE GODS!"
Severus blinked. He raised his arm just as the Headmaster caught up with him.
"It is too late, Father," he said in an emotionless voice.
The Dream Dumbledore screamed in anguish as he collapsed to his knees.
Albus woke in agitation, fighting the urge to comfort the boy when they next met. He knew he mustn't as surely as he knew that Severus should not be given cause to question the Headmaster's resolve. It would not do the boy a service to coddle him, or to try to undo what had been irrevocably done.
Severus now wore the Dark Mark.
The future had taken root in the present, and nothing could be done about it.
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The Headmaster had trained Severus in the art of moving around the Castle using force of the mind. It was not Apparation but served the same purpose. Thus, no one saw them meet in Dumbledore's office after dinner the following evening.
"Did you see Nurse Pomfrey about your hands and lip, Severus?" Albus asked.
Severus nodded. "Yes, but I made sure she didn't see the Dark Mark." He began to shiver.
"The – Dark Lord liked me, Father."
Albus failed to discern the meaning behind the boy's words. "Well, that is all to the good. You cannot be a good spy if Voldemort doesn't like and trust you."
Severus' eyes widened.
After a while in front of the crackling fire and snugged up in a blanket, Severus' dark head began to nod. Albus stood and gently carried him to the couch. He conjured a pillow, eased the boy back, and then covered him with the comforter. "Go to sleep if you can. I'll wake you in an hour or so that you can get to Slytherin Tower on time."
"My arm hurts," the boy said.
"Let me try a charm, then. Relax and rest, little sparrow."
"Why do you call me that?"
"Because you're not all flash and color like a peacock. The life you've been handed has caused you to take on a more somber coloration. And I mean to protect you, little bird." Albus placed his hand on Severus' forehead "Now. Slumbera Sine Dolore."
Sleep without pain.
Sleep without sadness.
Sleep.
The exhausted boy relaxed and closed his eyes.
With a sigh of resignation, Albus then walked across the room and sat down behind his desk, hoping that attention to his correspondence would help to assuage his own guilt and pain.