Disclaimer: The usual story.

Note: Sorry for the last chapter if you thought it was lousy or anything. Hope you enjoy this one. Keep reviewing:)

Snape ate his breakfast haltingly, fear he usually kept at bay slinking into his mind. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. After all, what should he fear? Death? No, he did not fear it..he welcomed it. Torture? He had been submitted to it for years, mental and physical- some more would make no difference. Failure? His whole existance was nothing but a failed attempt at creating a real life. No. There was truly nothing to fear.

Dumbledore watched him as he ate, picking at his own food. Grief weighing down on him like a heavy crown of lead. The tension seemed to fill the room with invisible strings that kept them tied down, their heads bowed. But did they not send the man to avoid him further anger from Voldemort? And yet, the sense of foreboding was strong. A looming gray shadow of threatening rain. If Severus died... Dumbledore choked on his tea, but managed to fake a small smile as the young man's head shot up. Would he be happier if he died? Perhaps he was right. He loved him too selfishly to realise he would be better off dead. That his life was miserable and void, full of hatred and pain. No! His heart protested vehemently. He had a right to know real happiness and not simply fade into oblivion. No, he could not die.

'I'll accompany you to the gates Severus.'

The old man whispered as Snape put his spoon down, leaving the plate half full. Severus nodded and stood up, trying not to sway as the world tilted dangerously for a few seconds. Blinking the spots from his eyes he took a step foward and then strided from the Hospital Wing, leaving Dumbledore to follow him in his wake. Albus got up swiftly and in a few steps had caught up with the weakened man. He had not said anything, but Minerva was waiting for them at the gates, wanting to see the young Potions Master before he left. As they neared the gates, Snape stopped suddenly at sighting the woman standing there. Dumbledore thought he heard a small sigh, or perhaps a grumble, coming from the young man but was not sure as, barely a second later he had continued on his way.

'Severus. I just, wanted to see you off.'

Minerva greeted hesitantly. The sky seeming to mirror her confusion: over the castle a startling blue, without a single cloud; while above them loomed summer rain clouds in a grayish background, advancing to take over and blot the color away. Snape's demenour was much too cool for a man who was walking right into possible torture from the hands of the most evil wizard of their time. And yet, she asked herself, should she be so surprised? He had been risking his life for years- but it was still unnerving to see no fear in his eyes. She would have welcomed the human emotion more than the creepy emptiness. That black void. She glanced at Dumbledore, who was looking sombre, and wondered if he was asking himself the same question that kept swimming through her head. Would they ever see him alive again? It was strange. The young man had been doing this for over a year. But He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's insanity seemed to grow with every day, and what was left of Severus' will to live dwindling faster than ever. Albus would be devastated if they were to lose him...and, she had to admit she would be quite grieved too. What were they waiting for? The three were just standing silent, casting cool shadows on the barren earth track... It was the first time they were actually with him just before meeting with Him. That, more than anything, seemed to give a feeling of change. For good or bad was the question.

Snape apparated suddenly, leaving the pair staring at the sun sparkling in the dust. He had decided to leave before any farewells, he always left alone. And now he was reassured that it was better that way, he could not bear to see the terror and doubt in their eyes, or the pity shining from glowing blue orbs as he had seen when he had chanced a last look at the Headmaster. He had known the old man had attempted to transmit him some hope- but he had failed. And yet he wondered, if Dumbledore himself knew the happiness he spoke of. He lived in constant war. Ever the grandiest warrior and the only real hope (apart from Potter) of the wizarding world's resistance agaisnt the disruptions of peace that succeeded one another. He would give anything, do anything. Even live forever, if it were to allow Albus to find the peace he desired in the world he lived...and not in the grave. For he truly deserved it.

'My Lord.'

Snape mumbled instantly upon arriving before Voldemort. The young man bowed awkardly, his hair shielding his face as usual. He could almost feel the horrible red eyes boring into his head, trying to pierce through him; almost feel the anger radiating from him at the interruption.

'I have brought you the potion my Lord.'

Voldemort watched the man silently for a moment. Torn between two predominating emotions, he banished the papers he had been perusing with a wave of his wand and stepped down from his chair. Rage at being interrupted so blatantly, so arrogantly...satisfaction at receiving the potion before the expected time. A smirk reached his thin, colorless lips as his mind reached a conclusion that served both aspects nicely.

'Indeed?'

'Yes, my Lord.'

'Very well. And yet...you deem yourself important enough to interrupt me? To present yourself before me without being summoned?'

Severus raised his eyes slightly, Voldemort's voice was like poisonous oil someone was trying to sweeten with salt. The dark wizard, was indeed, grinning maliciously. Like a naughty child who is about to trip a younger student making him fall in the mud. But of course, Voldemort would trip him with a sword, making him fall into a pool of blood and rotting limbs.

'Forgive me. My Lord. I wanted nothing than to please thee.'

'Give me the potion.'

He ordered haughtily. Snape reached inside his robes and withdrew with a slightly trembling hand a small crystal vial. Taking a step foward he knelt on one knee and held it up, the dim light of small torches reflected. Voldemort extended a spidery hand and held the fragile object between two pincerlike fingers.

'What a nice color..purple.'

Snape gritted his teeth, the horrible sound of Voldemort's laughter echoing in his ears. Like the groans and pleads for mercy of the wizards and muggles he had watched die. Their last vision the torn and battered limbs of the ones they loved, and their very own, littered on the floor of their own houses. And the shadow of their murderers upon them, their cackles of laughter playing the last requiem.

'Would you care to do me a little favor Snape?'

Snape shook his head. It angered him to know the Dark Lord was having fun, for his mocking tone could only indicate that he was enjoying himself in his "humorous" malice. He would have preferred for him to be angry, even if the torture had been more painful, than to see his sickly pleasure.

'I care to see how the potion works. If you take a sip will it cause you death?'

Voldemort asked coldly, asking only because he was not about to let a follower escape him.

'No, my Lord.'

'Then take enough to see the effects but not permanently poison you. You see Severus. I am merciful, this is your only punishment for interrupting me.'

Snape looked up to see Voldemort pointed teeth in his evil smile. The mouth was twisted into a thin snarl as the seconds ticked by and silence reigned.

'Thank me.'

He ordered angrily.

'You are most merciful my Lord.'

Severus bowed as he spoke, struggling to keep the sarcasm from his voice. He took the vial once more and carefully uncorked it, he smirked grimly and took but a small sip.

'More.'

He downed one more gulp and handed it back to the white thin hands waiting impatiently. Snape gasped as frozen tentacles slithered down his neck and through his veins, freezing his blood into icy shards that ripped his chilling skin as they wandered through his body.

'What do you feel?'

'Cold.'

Voldemort sneered and jabbing his wand at the young man, watched him as he doubled to the floor and fell into a crumbled heap, before throwing him across the room.

'I believe we'll couple it with the Cruciatus curse when we use it. It will cause more pain and make things slightly less monotonous. You are dismissed.'

Severus disapparated back to Hogwarts. For a moment he wondered if he had erred in the location, as he landed in a blanket of soft snow. He could hear the sound of teeth chattering and suddenly realised they were his own. Dumbledore rushed foward as he saw the black bundle of robes appear suddenly just before the gate.

'Severus? Are you hurt?'

He asked worriedly. Snape shook his head with difficulty, his breath coming in short gasps. Dumbledore frowned in concern and helped the man to his feet.

'What did he do to you?'

'N-nothing, Headmaster. I'm fine. If y-you would be so kind as to escort me to my chambers.'

'We're going to the Hospital Wing and you can tell us what is wrong.'

Snape tried to protest, but finding he could hardly breath he decided not to risk uttering some useless words. Dumbledore took him by the wrist and nearly flinched at the icy coldness of his flesh. Sending a silver bird of mist from his wand to warn Madam Pomfrey of their arrival he tried to urge Snape foward. The young man took a few steps, but he could not feel his feet touching the stone. He fell on a thick pile of snow, of small pieces of sharping frost.

'Severus talk to me!'

Dumbledore coaxed urgently, turning the pale face and trying to meet the roaming eyes. He picked him in his arms, feeling as if he were carrying a bundle of frozen robes, instead of a warm human being.

'P-professor Dumbledore.'

The man stuttered as they reached the corridor and headed straight towards the healing wards.

'Oh, you've come back. How're you feeling?'

'Cold-d'

The old man pursed his lips in thought and his eyes widened as comprehension dawned upon him. He took longer strides and reaching the door pushed it open quickly.

'Headmaster.'

Poppy greeted as they came in, having abandoned her lunch to come to the her employer's summons. She took a glance at the shivering Snape as Dumbledore set him on the bed and strode foward.

'Again?'

She asked in a rather pained voice, she felt no strong attachment to the young man, but the horror of someone being tortured during almost the whole of their lives was enough to make her simpathise with him. Her keen eyes inspected him quickly, but she saw no signs of blood or broken bones.

'I'm afraid it's a potion this time Poppy. Am I right Severus?'

He asked turning towards him. Snape nodded stiffly, his lips tinged blue.

'What does it do?'

The witch asked, while taking his temperature and vital signals.

'It varies dep-pending on the wizard. On what w-will cause him more p-pain: burning fire or f-freezing ice.'

'Oh my goodness!' Poppy exclaimed after reading the thermometer. 'His temperature! 20 Cº!'

Gulping hard she murmured a warming spell and a bolt of fuzzy orange issued from her wand, settling on Snape like a wollen blanket before dissappearing with a crack. A mixture of a cough and a snort of grim laughter escaped him, making the woman frown and wonder if he was delirious. His pulse was weak after all.

'T-that won't work. The potion will freeze or b-burn the drinker alive within a few hours.'