Disclaimer:
Obviously the characters aren't mine or this would be a book rather than a fanfic ;) I'm not making a Knut out of this!
A/N
Sorry it took so long! I assure you, I don't have excuses, I have reasons and there's a difference! ;P I had this chapter ready to be sent a day before the Pope died… I'm Polish and a catholic and his death hit me pretty hard. Even though I never was overly religious. I still can't really believe it! I'm 17 and ever since I can remember we had our Polish Pope in Rome and now… It's strange and I don't know how I'm going to get used to this.
Sorry about that, but sometimes it feels better to write down what's bothering you… Nope, hasn't worked yet… maybe the method is outdated?
Ok, here goes, the next awful chapter of an awful story! ;P Enjoy!
Chapter III
Fateful meetings – part two
-back to the Death Eater gathering; Severus is still leaning against the wall as his mind wanders-
"I'd made my choice." Severus muttered. "Now I have to live with it."
'I could leave now. I could Apparate to Hogsmeade and that would be the end of it… I could but I won't.' He sighed, momentarily forgetting his aching throat and chest and instantly feeling sorry for it. 'I owe Dumbledore as much. The Dark Lord has to be up to something, if He's called a separate meeting for the IC. Dumbledore and his Order will need to know about this... whatever this is.'
Severus' weary mind drifted to the past again, despite his best efforts to stay focused…
"Mr Snape? How… unexpected… it is to see you here. Last I heard you received an offer of apprenticeship from a Potions Master in India." Professor McGonagall was startled by her former student's sudden appearance at Hogwarts as she nearly bumped into him in a corridor near the Headmaster's office.
"Professor McGonagall." The young man acknowledged his former Transfiguration teacher. He couldn't help feeling like a student again at hearing the same stern voice that used to punish him so very often. The realisation that she couldn't give him detention or take house points took a long moment before it fully dawned on him. "Yes indeed, but now I am back again. I'm here to see the Headmaster." He curtly explained. There was no reason to bother with small talk when he had no desire of talking to the Head of Gryffindor at all.
Minerva McGonagall seemed to be in total agreement. She'd never had much love for the Slytherin boy even when he had been a child. They'd got off at a bad start, so to speak.
"I see. Well, you know where his office is then. The password is Fudge. Now, if you'd excuse me? Good day."
With that, she was gone, rounding the nearest corner so quickly, that Severus barely had time for a "Good day" of his own. He was so used to people being impolite to him that he barely noticed the older woman's brusque manner, not that he cared though.
Setting his lips in a neutral line rather than the scowl they'd curled into of their own accord, the dark-haired man continued on his way to meet with Dumbledore… or to meet his Fate, as he later came to regard the meeting as.
Engrossed in his thoughts, Severus gave the password he'd acquired to the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Albus Dumbledore's office. He took a deep, calming breath before stepping onto the spiral staircase. If his mind was made up, it was bloody well made up – backing away now was not an option.
He knocked on the gleaming oak door with confidence he couldn't possibly feel, not using the brass, griffon knocker. His face was a perfect mask of indifference. Ebony eyes were void of all emotion. He straightened himself, his head held high, eyes looking forward unfalteringly.
Footsteps were heard from within the office. They moved closer and the door creaked in protest as it was opened.
"I really have to do something about this door." Dumbledore said with a small frown, then he turned his sky-blue eyes to regard Severus. A smile made new lines appear on the Headmaster's ancient face. "Severus, what a pleasant surprise! Do come in my boy."
With that, the white-haired wizard opened the door wider and stepped back to allow his guest entrance.
'I wonder if he has any idea how aggravating that endless twinkling of his eyes can be?' Severus thought in irritation.
"Good afternoon, Headmaster Dumbledore." He said respectfully, with a slight bow of his dark head. Whatever else could be said about the young man's disposition, his manners were always impeccable.
Dumbledore inclined his head in the young man's direction in turn, treating him as the adult he was and with the just respect he'd earned through his perfect school record. He closed the door and moved behind his desk. The Headmaster indicated the chair opposite him with a sweep of his hand before sitting down.
"Please, take a seat, my boy." The pleasant, kind smile never left his face. "Would you care for some tea?"
"No, thank you, Headmaster." Severus replied just as he sat in the chair he'd been directed to.
"A bite to eat perhaps? It's such a nice day outside. Fairly remarkable for this time of year, wouldn't you say? You probably had a long journey to get here, you must be hungry." The old warlock was just about to call a house-elf when Severus understood his intentions. He didn't want any interruptions. It had taken him long enough to come to a decision, there was no point stalling. Besides, he may not have had anything to eat the second day in a row, but that didn't mean he was hungry. He wasn't. He was never much of an eater and he couldn't eat when he was nervous. There were no outward signs of his distress and he'd cleared his mind in case Dumbledore tried using Legilimency, but there was a storm raging inside him.
"No, Headmaster, thank you very much but I am not hungry." He said in a slight rush. He could have kicked himself. Dumbledore frowned at him, but resumed his smile after a moment of consideration. Severus cleared his throat, cursing himself inwardly because he could recognise stalling when he saw it. "Professor, I came here to discuss something with you, something of great importance." He paused, not offering anything more. The man knew he had to test the water first because he couldn't just blurt out what he wanted to say.
If his life was to be forfeit then so be it, but there was a chance it didn't have to be and Severus' Slytherin nature would be damned if he didn't at least try to take it.
"I see. I expected as much. Few people come to see me unless they want or need something. No-one comes here just to visit, drink a cup of tea anymore… But alas, that is the price you pay for holding a position of high authority." The silver-haired warlock said wistfully and sighed. Dumbledore poured himself a cup of tea and added three lumps of sugar. Severus grimaced at the thought of how sweet the drink was going to be before schooling his features to a neutral look. It was none of his business after all.
"Not to mention being the most powerful wizard in the world." Severus added studying the Headmaster's reaction. He wanted confirmation – desperately so.
"You really think that, Severus?" Dumbledore spoke softly, his eyes never ceasing to twinkle, though he arched an eyebrow. Taking a sip of his tea, the man grimaced and added even more lumps of sugar. Severus nearly winced at the sight, but caught himself just in time.
"Everyone thinks that." The reply came with the quiet conviction of someone repeating a commonly known truth, mechanically and without feeling.
"That is not what I asked you, my boy. Do you really think that? Do you truly believe me the most powerful wizard in the world? Is that why you came here?"
Severus' heart beat harder against his ribcage, his pulse quickening rapidly. Was it possible that the old man already knew why Severus had come to him? Was he just playing with him, were there Aurors waiting to collect him at any moment? Or maybe Dumbledore was simply awaiting the arrival of Dementors?
Snape no longer had any options. All he could do was proceed as he'd planned, continue the conversation he was having with Dumbledore and see how things would play out. He'd come prepared for the worst. He was ready to face whatever Fate had in store for him… In his short life, he'd already seen and suffered through things most people didn't have to face in a whole lifetime. Severus looked at the Headmaster since, as he'd been pondering the question, his gaze had strayed to the fire cracking with deceptive innocence and playfulness in the fireplace. The old warlock's eyes were twinkling in their usual manner. The Headmaster was obviously awaiting a response.
Seeing those happily glittering eyes upon him, young Severus was forced to wonder at the wisdom of turning to Dumbledore in his current plight. The well-seasoned man gave the distinct impression of… well, of being utterly deranged, to be perfectly honest. Snape couldn't help thinking that perhaps his friends and acquaintances within the Dark Lord's ranks may have been right. Perhaps the great Albus Dumbledore really was no more than a crazy old fool?
Far from being in the office of the Headmaster of Hogwarts for the first time, having spent more than ample time inside as a student, Severus now eyed his surroundings with a critical eye. He saw a lunascope, familiar-looking silver instruments which he'd studied many a time before, the portraits of the previous headmasters and headmistresses… then there was Fawkes. The phoenix met his gaze and the young man found himself unable to look away. The bird had always fascinated Severus, they'd even come to an agreement during Snape's school years. Fawkes' behaviour today was odd at best. He dismissed these thoughts promptly.
Wanting to look Dumbledore straight in the eye as he spoke, Snape once again had to drag his gaze to the Headmaster's face. What he saw there made him reevaluate his opinion of the old wizard. He'd come close to underestimating the threat he posed. Masked by the unnerving twinkling was a gaze so intense and calculating that it made Severus' blood run cold. There was a hint of steel in those blue eyes – strength and power that was not to be trifled with. It was something he'd never seen in them before, or perhaps he just hadn't noticed, not knowing what to look for. The piercing gaze reminded the young man all too strongly of his late father and of the Dark Lord. If he never saw those hateful red eyes again, he certainly wouldn't mind – his life would be all the better for it.
Meanwhile, Albus Dumbledore was conducting a character study of his own. He watched the boy in front of him very carefully. Boy. Those dark eyes clearly stated that this was no boy anymore, even if his appearance didn't.
Sitting down, Severus didn't have the benefit of his great height. His gaunt face, with its alabaster complexion and huge, fathomless black eyes, seemed very childlike, even with the prominent nose and the raven hair forming greasy curtains on either side of his high cheekbones.
The old Headmaster was astounded by young Snape's firm control over his emotions and the blank look in his eyes. It was more than just not allowing his feelings and thoughts to surface – the boy had strong mental shields around himself. Dumbledore had to wonder when he'd become an Occlumens – and one as accomplished as this. Had he really missed so much of his life? Had he paid the Slytherin so little attention that he'd never even noticed him working on learning this complex art? It had been two years since Severus' graduation, not enough time to perfect Occlumency like this. Obviously, he must have began learning at Hogwarts, because, without even attempting to bring those protective walls down, Dumbledore knew that it would be impossible to enter Snape's mind without resorting to a brutal attack on his mind – and even then, the Headmaster wasn't sure whether it would be enough. Most impressive and yet disconcerting as well.
Upon first entering Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Severus Snape had already shown great potential for learning those branches of magic that required the strength of mind and will, but Albus had been under the impression that he was alone in this realisation. Statorius Snape – the child's father – had neglected teaching him Occlumency and Legilimency, while he certainly hadn't done the same in regard to almost every other branch of magic, putting the most pressure on the Dark Arts.
Severus hadn't been able to occlude his mind in his Fifth Year, that much was certain. After the OWLs was when the Shrieking Shack "prank" had taken place. Probably in response to the punishment Dumbledore had given James Potter and Sirius Black for their shameful behaviour directly after the Defence Against the Dark Arts exam. Lily Evans, always the kind-hearted, justice-seeking type, had come straight to Dumbledore after James' cruel, humiliating joke. Severus had been too ashamed to leave the Den for the remainder of the week, thus missing his Transfiguration OWL.
Thinking back to that time, Dumbledore regretted his own lenient behaviour. The punishment he'd given the two Marauders hadn't been close to what they deserved. Taking off a fellow student's underwear, in a public display, should have warranted more than two detentions and the deduction of 20 house points. In the least, it should have served as a warning and Sirius might not have felt bold enough to perform that second prank. That one could have resulted in the death of another student. Things had certainly got out of hand.
Severus had been so angry after that, but what was worse, what still haunted the Headmaster, was the expression in the young boy's dark eyes when he'd learned of the meagre punishment Sirius had received, not to mention the 50 points James had been awarded for bravery… Severus had been disillusioned. Those expressive black eyes of his had been filled with rage, hurt and accusation. At the same time, he seemed bitterly resigned, as if he'd really expected as much. In little over one week Albus had shattered any hope there'd been of gaining Severus for the Light. Snape had felt betrayed, not so much because of the whole incident, but because he'd been close to believing that Hogwarts was different than his home.
Predictably, after the summer holidays Severus had become even more recluse, if that's possible. It had been a difficult couple of months for him. At the end of August, his father had died under strange circumstances, somewhere in Scotland – miles away from his Manor near London. Severus, not surprisingly, had been more affected by Lucius Malfoy's decision to depart on a year long journey around the world than by Statorius' death.
The Malfoy heir was two years older than the Snape heir. The pair had immediately become "friends" as that was what was expected of them by their families. Though, admittedly, their relationship did seem to have the potential for becoming more than a mere alliance in the future.
With Malfoy having graduated, along with some other Slytherins Severus had often spent time with, Snape's Sixth Year hadn't looked very bright. But, as luck would have it, Lily Evans had taken it upon herself to befriend Severus in his hour of need. An unlikely friendship had formed – a bumpy ride, which appeared to have more set backs than not. Nonetheless, it had done Severus a world of good, until again, Lucius Malfoy stepped in in their Seventh Year, reminding Severus of the pure-blooded agenda.
Dumbledore had been very concerned for the young Slytherin after the boy had stopped meeting or even talking with Lily. Voldemort had been gaining many supporters from Slytherin and the pure-blooded families. To lose a boy of Severus' intelligence would have been a huge loss.
And yet he'd done close to nothing to prevent it.
Dumbledore had never been close to Severus, the boy hadn't been able to trust him, but after the events at the end of his Fifth Year Severus had avoided the Headmaster. After the NEWTs Albus had made one last – or rather first – attempt to reach out to Severus.
The memory of that encounter made Albus wonder now what could have brought Severus to his door after he'd already failed him so terribly.
'Severus?' Dumbledore quietly called out to the black figure sitting by the lake. They were near the Forbidden Forest, in a place that was barely visible from a distance for all the trees and bushes growing there. There was a clear view of it from the vicinity of the Womping Willow.
'Professor?' The boy replied without turning his head. The boy was usually impeccably polite, such disrespect for his elders was far from normal. Albus, however, ignored it and moved closer, sitting next to Snape on the grass. Not close enough to make the boy feel uncomfortable. Severus didn't like to be touched and he didn't like having people too close to him. Sometimes he would look like a caged animal, his huge black eyes widened in unsuccessfully masked fear.
'One more day and you will never have to see Hogwarts again, eh?' The Headmaster spoke softly.
'Yes. I can hardly wait.' Severus said, once again in this uncharacteristic, disrespectful tone. Dumbledore looked sadly at the dark head that was turned away from him.
'What are your plans for the future?'
'I'm going to be a Potions Master. I already had several offers of apprenticeship. Didn't you know that, Professor?' Severus spat.
'Yes, I knew that. I was merely wondering if perhaps you hadn't changed your mind. After all, I'm sure you've done very well on your NEWTs. You're very good at Transfiguration and DADA.'
'Yeah, at least this time I managed to take my Transfiguration exam along with the rest of the school, not in September the next year.' Although he couldn't see the boy's face, Dumbledore knew there was an ugly sneer there. The old warlock sighed. He should have expected this. He'd never even tried approaching the boy about this and now it was like crying over spilt milk – entirely pointless.
'Which apprenticeship did you accept?' Albus decided to change the subject to something safer. At hearing his words, Severus whirled around, looking at the Headmaster with an unreadable expression, his ebony eyes only slightly widened. After a moment, Severus narrowed his eyes and replied in a neutral tone.
'I'm taking the one in India – Master Rahul Gandhi.'
'The best Potions Master in the world. I was not aware that you received an invitation from him as well. From what I've heard he hasn't been taking apprentices for years.'
'Obviously he's changed his mind.' Severus said turning back to the lake, his gaze briefly rested on his left forearm before locking on the glittering surface of the water. Due to the heat, he'd pulled his sleeves up over his elbows, revealing his alabaster skin. Both of his forearms were slender, but there was the distinct evidence of well-formed muscles underneath the pale, delicate skin, marred only by a couple of silver scars. 'I'm leaving directly after graduation.'
'You're not going home before?' The Headmaster asked surprised, forgetting whom he was talking to and that he was unlikely to gain a satisfactory answer from this boy anyway.
Turning to the Headmaster with eyebrows raised, Severus asked with sardonic amusement 'What home?'
The boy looked down at his boots. The Headmaster was just about to try and say something when Severus reached down and squashed an ant that had climbed the glossy surface of his leather boot.
'It's so easy to take a life, isn't it?' Snape spoke softly, as much to himself, as to the old wizard next to him. 'A simple action… or simple words, as long as they're the right ones.' He lifted his black, fathomless eyes to meet the Headmaster's blue ones. It seemed like he wanted to say something else but couldn't find the words or the courage. Instead he seemed intent on passing a silent message to the Headmaster, a silent plea for understanding. Once again, the boy looked away, his dark eyes roaming over the grass this time. 'It's easy to ruin a life too. By an actual action, or simply by inaction.'
The Headmaster followed his student's gaze and found himself looking at a beetle. It was on its back, wiggling its legs madly, but unable to change its position. A ray of heating sunshine was mercilessly pointing at its stomach. The beetle continued its wild trashing, to no avail, but not giving up – fighting with all its worth, with every last ounce of strength it possessed to preserve its own life, to escape its Fate…
Sudden movement at his side broke the Headmaster's reverie. Severus had stood up from his spot in the shade of a tree and he'd made his way towards the insect. He crouched down next to it and studied it for a long moment before reaching a pale, long-fingered hand towards it. Dumbledore held his breath, certain that Severus would treat it as he just had the tiny ant… He didn't. Snape gently turned the beetle over with his slender finger and watched as it padded along in the grass, moving in the direction of the shade.
Dumbledore released the breath he'd been holding when he heard a soft, quiet voice whisper. 'Sometimes it doesn't even take a whole hand to help, does it? And what difference it can make just the same.' The boy stood up, straightened himself and met Dumbledore's gaze. The expression in his ebony eyes was serious, with a hint of accusation.
'I have to go finish packing, Headmaster. I will see you tomorrow at the Feast.' Dumbledore nodded, at a loss for words, knowing that what he said now would no longer matter. He understood the hidden meaning behind Severus' sudden interest in insects. He'd failed Severus when he'd been able to help him and now there was nothing he could do.
'Goodbye, Severus.' As he said it, Dumbledore knew that he wasn't just saying a simple goodbye. This goodbye was for a lifetime, because there was no way this boy would ever willingly return to him.
A glimmer of disappointment and regret flashed in Severus Snape's eyes, or had Albus imagined it? Had there still been something he might have said to Severus to make a difference? What had the boy wanted him to say?
'Goodbye, Headmaster Dumbledore.' Severus inclined his head in the older man's direction before pivoting on his heel and walking away, never looking back. Albus turned to the lake sadly, thus not seeing Severus walking towards the Womping Willow instead of Hogwarts. He missed the sight of the Slytherin levitating a stick and prodding the tree with it, freezing its branches, before disappearing within the hidden tunnel…
Dumbledore's reverie was broken when Severus finally decided to speak.
"The reason I came here is because I wish to believe." He said slowly.
"In my power?" Albus asked, clearly surprised and not quite certain what to make of all this.
"In hope. I want to believe that there is still hope." Severus swallowed. Saying those words, he knew they were true and yet he'd never uttered them before nor had he so openly admitted this even to himself. "I want to believe that the Dark Lord's fall is possible and I wish to help bring Him down." The last was said with determination. For the first time since he'd entered Dumbledore's office, Severus' eyes shone with emotion. Dumbledore desperately wanted to believe it was genuine, but he couldn't help being suspicious.
"And you came all the way from India for this? You forsook your Potions Mastership for this? To fight this war for the side of Light? The side your friends are fighting against? How, being away from all this, could you possibly know what is going on here and how could you come to this decision not having to experience this first hand?" Dumbledore asked seriously. He wanted to believe Severus, he really did, but things just didn't seem to fit. Where did this passion come from? It was as if the boy's life depended on this.
"I didn't forsake my Mastership. I've already finished my apprenticeship and I am a Potions Master." Severus took pride in the look of utter astonishment on Dumbledore's face. The old warlock just continued to stare at him, incredulous, his suspicions forgotten for the moment.
"A Potions Mastery usually takes over twenty years to achieve. You're twenty years old, Severus! How is that possible? You must be the youngest Potions Master in…"
"History." Severus finished with a slight upturn of his thin lips. The lack of smugness and arrogance surprised the Headmaster. It seemed that the boy was full of surprises today. The look of pleasure disappeared from Snape's gaunt face and his eyes fixed the Headmaster with a grim look. "It is because of the completion of my apprenticeship, and my stay in India, that I came here today. I've seen things I never cared to see. I've done things I never wanted to do, because I know what it is like to be victim to them." Severus took a deep breath. "I'm one of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters, Sir."
Dumbledore had expected as much. He closed his eyes against the pain he felt upon hearing this terrible confirmation. He was at a loss as to what he should do. Should he call the Aurors? The Dementors? Why had this boy come here, to him of all people, with this information? Was it a plot devised by Voldemort or were this young man's intentions true?
Again the disconcerting thought of his Occlumency skills came unbidden to Albus' mind. He would just have to see.
He'd never been Severus Snape's first choice for seeking help in the past. For Voldemort to use Severus would be a stretch. There were many students who were known to have better contact with the Headmaster, they would have been a far better choice – less suspicious, more believable.
For Severus to come to Dumbledore of his own accord… that was a stretch as well. Snape had never trusted him, what could possibly make him change his mind now?
Both Voldemort and Snape could be playing on Dumbledore's kind heart and on his guilt at having failed Severus when he'd been a child. Perhaps they both believed that the old wizard's judgment would be clouded by guilt and regrets, that the joy at having been given a second chance would make him trust blindly… Voldemort might think that, but Severus – on his own – would never have such faith.
"Why are you telling me this, Severus? You know what I should do with this information." Dumbledore spoke calmly, with a note of sternness in his tone.
"You should hand me over to the Aurors or Dementors." Severus said impassively.
"Yes." Dumbledore agreed, quite taken aback by the boy's apparent lack of concern. "You know what they will do to you once they hear your confession?"
"They won't even have to listen to it before they throw me into Azkaban or sentence me to the Kiss." The dark-haired man's calm voice chilled the Headmaster. How could he not care? Had the boy already given up? Was that why he was here? Whywashe here?
"What do you mean?"
Instead of answering, Severus rolled up his left robe sleeve and then did the same with the sleeve of his white shirt. On the pale skin engraved was an ugly, black tattoo – the Dark Mark, Voldemort's chosen symbol. It was the same sign as that which appeared over the houses that were target to Voldemort's attacks. Dumbledore had never seen this mark on a living person, nor a dead one, for that matter.
"What is this?" The old wizard asked, not trying to hide his revulsion upon seeing the hideous Dark Mark on his former student's arm. Severus frowned at the question.
"It's the Dark Mark, every Death Eater bears it on his or her left forearm. It is a means of distinguishing ourselves, but it also allows the Dark Lord to call us to His side. When He touches the Mark of one of His followers, all our Marks burn – it is a signal to immediately Apparate at His side." Realisation dawned in Severus' eyes. "You haven't seen a Death Eater for the past two years, have you, Headmaster?" Not waiting for an answer, the boy continued his explanation. "Before that time, the Dark Lord had strict rules of initiation – no-one under twenty was accepted and it was preferred that the candidates had not only good education but a profession they were especially experienced in. None of His followers were branded yet." A look that the Headmaster thought might have been shame and regret passed over Severus' thin face. "I was the first exception to the age rule – because I excelled in Potions and the Dark Lord didn't believe I was going to have an equal among His ranks anyway. I was also one of the first to receive the Dark Mark."
Dumbledore looked at the black-haired man seated in front of him carefully. He could be a source of valuable information – he already was.
"When did you join Voldemort's ranks?" Albus asked. He needed to know to ease his guilty conscience.
The wizened warlock couldn't have failed to see the young wizard flinch at the sound of the name. It saddened him that even this proud, pure-blooded boy feared a mere name. This particular boy had always been an intellectual. He had a strong mind and a will of pure iron – such foolish, superstitious fear was out of character for him. Severus Snape – Slytherin though he was – had always possessed the courage worthy of a Gryffindor.
Only one thing could be said in his defence. He, at least, like few people among the living, had actually met Lord Voldemort and he'd been witness to the atrocities he and his Death Eaters committed.
"I met with Him for the first time during the Christmas holidays in my Seventh Year. After that I went to Him about once every month on the weekends. A… friend… informed me of the exact time and location a day prior to the meetings. It was up to me to make sure my absence wouldn't be noticed. I wasn't a Death Eater yet but I was asked to attend some of the meetings. Nothing drastic at first, of course, and even when I finally saw the Death Eaters killing people – I was fed lies. The victims were just innocent Muggles picked off the streets. I was told they'd been fighting against the Dark Lord and His followers so their deaths had seemed justified." Severus' hands clenched into fists as he relieved these memories until he regained control over himself. He sighed before speaking again. "I joined His ranks one day before my graduation. I received the Dark Mark then."
The Headmaster suddenly felt as if someone had spilled ice-cold water over his head. He sat still, unmoving, refusing to believe the boy's words.
"Severus, that's impossible. I saw you that day. I talked to you. I saw your arm!" Dumbledore looked into Severus' dark eyes, begging him to deny his previous allegation.
"I remember, Sir. You came over while I was sitting by the lake, waiting for the right time to depart… perhaps even having second thoughts…" Snape lowered his gaze, looking at the table rather than the old wizard before him. It was for that reason that he missed the pain and grief that appeared on his ancient face. Unaware of the feelings he'd invoked in the Headmaster, believing that he could only find revulsion in his sky-blue eyes, young Severus plunged on. "At that time I not only believed in the pure-blood mantra as it is now often called, but I also believed that the Dark Lord had the answers to this and many other problems. During my apprenticeship in India I was removed from all that has been happening here. Since my return the doubts I've had have been confirmed and I no longer wish to serve the Dark Lord… unless that servitude can help bring His downfall."
As if to prove the honesty and sincerity of his words, Severus met Albus' piercing gaze. Without so much as flinching, or giving a warning, the young boy opened his mind to the old warlock. He braced himself against an assault on every memory he wished to remain hidden, knowing that those most heavily guarded memories and thoughts were the most likely to interest Dumbledore.
The assault never came.
Seeing the boy's mind open before him, Albus averted his gaze from those black eyes, which now, more than ever before, truly were windows to his soul.
"I will not invade your mind, Severus. Show me only the memories you mentioned, the thoughts and events that led you here, into this office." Dumbledore spoke softly. In his current state, with the walls brought down, they both knew that Severus was incapable of lying. The surprise and relief in his onyx eyes was genuine, as was the uncertainty.
Severus had half the mind to protest. He didn't know whether the Headmaster was going to hand him over to the Ministry or not, but for some reason he wanted this man's trust. He wanted him to at least believe in his good intentions, even if he wasn't going to do anything to help him. He'd never before yearned for someone's trust and acceptance more. He'd never wanted to please his father as much as he wanted to please Dumbledore. Something in the old wizard's kind, intelligent eyes demanded respect. Severus wondered why he hadn't felt this way before – when he'd still been a student, when he could have done something worthwhile with his life. He'd been so blinded by his hatred of the Gryffindors that he'd never looked at the Gryffindor Headmaster properly.
Then again, Albus Dumbledore had never reached out to him, perhaps he'd tried on the day before Severus' graduation. He'd come to seek him out by the lake and he'd even ignored Severus' disrespect when attempting to have a conversation with him. Of course, at that time it was too little and too late. If the Headmaster had looked at him with those kind eyes of his they wouldn't have made a difference. Snape would have laughed it off… Would he have? Why did the memory of that day hurt him and why did it hurt so much that Dumbledore had given up on him so easily?
The acute feeling of not belonging had followed Severus throughout his childhood at home, throughout his years at Hogwarts and it had been there when he'd been amongst the Death Eaters. If only Dumbledore had made him feel wanted, or at least important enough to take notice of, then Severus would have given his decision more thought. Politics hadn't been that important to him at the time.
Lucius had been and still was his only friend and Snape hadn't been willing to lose him. That the Dark Lord's political views seemed to be in agreement with those of the Snapes and Malfoys had only made things easier.
Severus provided the Headmaster with the memories and thoughts he'd asked for and allowed him to move between them freely. He still half expected the wizard to go further than they'd agreed to and so he'd been more prepared to face unwanted memories than for the man's sudden withdrawal. Shaken from what he'd been forced to relieve, Severus took a gasping breath. He looked at Dumbledore in utter shock, trying to collect himself.
The Headmaster smiled at him kindly, his eyes beginning to twinkle. The kindness and twinkling no longer irritated Severus. Instead, he felt uneasy and the guilt he'd been trying to push to the back of his mind finally broke into the fore. All his efforts to rid himself of the feeling had been for naught and the conscience he thought had been irretrievably silenced was now demanding his attention.
The suffering and death he'd seen… the innocent lives lost, his inaction or his own hand aiding the villains in the atrocities they committed… For the first time in years, tears welled up in his huge, obsidian eyes. The young man would have thought he no longer knew how to cry, it had been beaten out of him when he'd been a child, but here, now, in the office of the Hogwarts' Headmaster, he found himself unable to stem the tears that had been waiting patiently for an opportunity to escape.
It was Albus' turn to be surprised. Going through the boy's thoughts and memories he hadn't encountered the feelings of guilt and regret that he now saw in Severus' eyes. He'd been satisfied with his revulsion and contempt for the Death Eaters who tortured and killed defenceless people, even if the boy's feelings seemed to stem from a slightly twisted sense of honour and pride rather than a true sense of what was moral. On impulse, Dumbledore stood up and walked around his desk until he was standing next to Severus. Slowly, hesitantly, the old wizard lifted a thin, long-fingered hand to stroke the boy's dark hair.
Severus hadn't seen the Headmaster approach. He'd been too busy trying to quell the painful emotions that were overwhelming him. The man jumped at the touch and Dumbledore had to take his hand away. At first he thought that the reaction was to his touch, that the boy didn't want him to touch him. He realised his mistake when he noticed Severus manoeuvre his arms over his head in a protective manner.
Suddenly it all fell into place. Severus' peculiar behaviour upon arriving at Hogwarts, the problems he seemed to have had settling in with the other students. He'd been recluse and awkward from day one. The teachers had attributed it to shyness and then to the so called ways of the Slytherins, but that hadn't been right. Slytherins had a tendency to be proud and arrogant, not to avoid not only confrontations, but any contact with other students. The only true exception had been an older Slytherin student – Molly Carson, a Seventh Year. She'd taken Severus under her wing in a very motherly fashion. It seemed to have been the right approach because Severus' interpersonal skills had begun steadily improving with her help.
Lucius Malfoy and his gang had stepped in after the girl had finished school, but Severus had still stood out from the group. It had been Malfoy's second attempt at moulding Severus' character to fit in with his group of friends. In the end, Severus had been a member of their gang, but hadn't truly fit in and so spent much of his time away from them.
As Dumbledore recalled, the young Snape had always been subject to jokes and pranks from his fellow students because of his inability to fit in. The school had often laughed at the way the thin boy would flinch or cower at the slightest physical contact. Severus' retribution had been to hex the other students, which led to his multiple detentions. The teachers had all disliked the apparently very aggressive and evil boy, some of them had even been afraid of him.
None, the Headmaster included, had given any thought to the reason why the boy might be acting the way he was.
"Oh Severus, my dear boy, I am so sorry." Dumbledore spoke softly, feeling tears in his own eyes as he watched the thin man in front of him. "I won't hurt you, child, I would never deliberately hurt you." Albus whispered soothingly, wishing he could comfort the boy, but knowing that to do so would be egotistic of him. It would only serve to ease his own conscience and pain, while not making things any better for Severus.
Finding the truth in his revelation, he halted the hand that had been reaching to touch Severus. It was so close it was almost touching the boy's black-clad shoulder. Snape looked up at the Headmaster angrily. Surprising them both, the dark-haired man leaned into Albus' hand.
Dumbledore felt a wave of gratitude towards his former student. Hesitantly, he stepped closer and started rubbing the boy's back. To feel the hard, bony surface only added to his pain. He was so thin. No wonder he wore so much clothing. If he didn't, he'd most likely look like a skeleton.
For some time the two men stayed this way. Dumbledore stood over the chair Snape was occupying and held him in a protective, fatherly embrace, while Severus, though very shyly and awkwardly at first, was returning the hug. Finally, the tears stopped flowing from Severus' eyes and he managed to calm himself. The thought of how comfortable and good he felt in Dumbledore's embrace frightened him and he pulled away, gently, so as not to startle or worry the older man. Gazing upwards and seeing the wizened face, Severus flushed, embarrassed at having lost control the way he had. Adding insult to injury, or perhaps trying to lessen Severus' uneasiness, Albus reached down and brushed a strand of black hair out of the boy's gaunt face. Severus flinched at the contact despite himself. He averted his eyes even more ashamed.
"Sorry." He mumbled.
Dumbledore smiled sadly as he walked back to his seat, knowing that Severus wasn't likely to look up just yet.
"You have nothing to be sorry about, Severus. If either of us here should take the blame, then it's me. I should have known what was going on. It was and still is my responsibility to see these things."
A small smile appeared on Severus' face, a rare sight, if not a near impossible one. This was too good to be true.
"You really didn't know? I thought you knew everything that goes on at Hogwarts… and with your students." It was spoken so softly that it was barely audible. Dumbledore vainly tried to find the accusation or scorn in his visitor's voice. The wan smile on his pale face took him aback.
"I don't Severus. I never presumed to know everything and I am glad there are things that I am not aware of. But, I wish I had known about your life at home. I still don't, these are just speculations and conclusions I have come to all too late." Dumbledore said in a voice laden with regret.
"I don't blame you, Sir. I never did blame you for that, I think." No longer sitting straight in his chair, with his shoulders slumped in resignation, Severus stroked Fawkes' ruffled feathers. The bird had flown from its perch onto the boy's lap, apparently having remembered their old friendship. "Sir, are you going to call the Aurors?" Snape asked quietly.
"Do you see another course of action I could take?" Albus said thoughtfully, assessing the boy's strength and courage.
"I could help fight this war. I could be of more use to you if I wasn't in Azkaban." There was confidence in the man's voice, though there was no pressure. "I could be your spy in the Dark Lord's ranks. I could pass information to you."
Such bravery and determination. While Azkaban was far from a pleasant place to be – it was Hell – but if Lord Voldemort found out about Snape's betrayal then what the boy would have to go through would be unspeakably worse. The position held great weight and not just anyone could lift it. Dumbledore felt proud. The boy hadn't let him down in his expectations of him. As much as he wanted to find another way to help Snape, a way that would be more effective, he knew there was none. He could only hope that the war wouldn't last long and that it wouldn't claim the boy's life. He'd been reluctant to even suggest this to Severus because he was certain that he'd accept the offer readily. Making not only the decision, but the idea itself Snape's allowed the Headmaster to feel less guilty about doing this.
"Are you sure you will be able to handle this? It will be very dangerous, Severus. You will also be betraying your friends. You do understand what the position of a spy entails?"
Not wanting to appear like a reckless and desperate fool, Severus pretended to be giving the matter more thought. 'Of course I am aware of what the position entails to! I'd come here prepared for everything and Dumbledore giving me this opportunity was my best case scenario!'
"I don't have friends among the Death Eaters, Sir." Severus said slowly. The 'I don't have friends,' was quite clear. "I'm an Occlumens and with additional training I will be able to block the Dark Lord even in a direct attack. I already have a system that allows me to separate certain feelings from the memories they are connected to. I keep those emotions locked away along with some other memories. Without the emotions, the memories can easily be misinterpreted." Severus realised what he was saying and stopped abruptly. "Headmaster…"
"It's all right, my boy. I have already wondered about this. Some of your memories seemed to me to be lacking something, though it was very subtle and I doubt Voldemort would take notice of it, because those feelings are what he cannot and never could comprehend." Dumbledore smiled reassuringly at Severus. "I must say that I am once again impressed, dear boy. Your skills in Occlumency almost equal your talent for Potions, though I am at a loss here. Your mother, Anne Potter, and your grandfather, Salazar Snape, had been Potions Masters and I am sure you owe much of your knowledge to not only their book collections, but to their own work. As for Occlumency – I've never known anyone from either the Snape or the Potter family to show such talent."
"I studied it by myself from books I could get in the Restricted Section while I was in my Seventh Year, Sir. After my first meeting with the Dark Lord I felt it would be prudent to learn how to occlude my mind…"
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you have the Sight, Severus." Dumbledore chuckled at the look of mingled horror and disgust on Severus' young face. "It was the only class you had trouble with, wasn't it? Quite surprising since you'd been paired off with the one student that excelled in this... um… subtle art."
Severus couldn't help but snort at this, forgetting whom he was speaking to and forgetting the war he'd just got himself into.
"Oh yes, Professor, Miss Sybil Trelawney was sooo talented in Divination! Why, only during our first lesson she managed to predict my death five times – all of which had been under different circumstances!" Severus said sarcastically. Dumbledore chuckled once again, quite taken by this unfamiliar side of his new-found favourite Slytherin.
"Ah, but if I recall correctly, Severus, she did mention a remedy as well in her prediction."
The expression on Severus' face was priceless. It was something between shock, horror, panic and revulsion.
"Love can save the day." The boy recalled, wrinkling his nose. "That is one detention I never regretted! If I hadn't charmed the crystal ball onto her head, the toad would have kissed me!"
Dumbledore's laugh reminded Severus of the present. He was both embarrassed and angry at the older man, but as he observed him laughing, the corners of his mouth twitched. When Dumbledore calmed down, Snape asked the question that had been bothering him.
"Professor, if I am to take this position, I should probably have more training. Occlumency isn't the only branch of magic it wouldn't hurt to work on. I have to learn how to project false emotions and thoughts and attach them onto memories. I can't manipulate my memories all that well either. It always shows that it has been tampered with and I should be able to create false memories altogether."
Dumbledore nodded, impressed by Snape's approach. It seemed that he had every aspect of this well thought through. The boy had come prepared for every possibility.
"I believe I would be able to help you with Occlumency, but at this stage you only need a little guidance. As for other skills, hm." Albus pursed his lips, studying the young man. It seemed that he didn't have an idea for this. "You already have a guaranteed career in Potions, but you are still very young, Severus. You could take up something else and, with your multiple talents, I'm sure it wouldn't take you long to finish another apprenticeship." Dumbledore stood up and started pacing the length of his office. Severus followed him with his gaze. "While Transfiguration would be fairly useful, it is hardly a match for a full training that would give you true martial skills. Yes, I believe that would be best. Voldemort would see it this way also. You would not only be my spy, but he would consider you his own spy in the making!"
Severus eyed the Headmaster uncertainly and with apprehension. Did he mean what he thought he did? Could he really trust him to that extent? Getting the Ministry involved in this could hardly make things easier for him.
"Um, Headmaster, with all due respect, would you mind telling me what you have in mind?" Snape asked cautiously.
"You already know that, Severus. I believe you could use some Auror training. You had Os
in Transfiguration and DADA when you did your NEWTs and that Potions Mastery – you'll be accepted for certain."
"I'm a Slytherin, Sir. Not to mention a Death Eater." Severus replied, put out. Dumbledore had seen the look of excitement that had flickered across Severus' face at the prospect. Becoming an Auror was the dream of most young men. The prestige it gave was unparalleled. It amused Dumbledore that this Slytherin seemed to hold it in as much a high esteem as members of the other three Houses, especially since this particular Slytherin had willingly joined the opposing forces.
"I will personally recommend you as a candidate, Severus, Slytherin or no, you would be accepted due to your school record." Albus noticed the boy's expression – he didn't believe a word Dumbledore was saying. The only way the Ministry would accept Severus Snape was if he was willing to part with some of his enormous fortune…
'Come to think of it, I'd rather do that than have Dumbledore use his influence.' As Severus thought about it, he felt that the idea had more potential than merely avoiding injuring his pride. Initially, he'd wanted to prove that he was self-sufficient, but now…
"No, Sir, thank you, but I believe I will be able to manage on my own. While your protectorate might have helped me in the future, in the event of the Dark Lord's fall, at the moment it would be too suspicious. It would be more beneficial to the cause if there were no traceable connections between you and me. I will present this idea to Him as my own and as a way of gaining both valuable training and valuable information once I am a fully trained Auror. He will be curious how I got accepted with the spreading prejudice against Slytherins and the Snapes' reputation as Dark Wizards. If need be, I can resort to the Malfoy way, but I will start the training along with those who'd been accepted after last year's graduation. The first three months consist of nothing but Potions and a couple of aptitude tests. It should be easy to catch up."
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. Brave as a Gryffindor. Cunning and proud as a pure-blooded Slytherin. Intelligent as a Ravenclaw. Hopefully he would also prove to be as loyal as a Hufflepuff – as long as Dumbledore did nothing to betray his trust, Severus would have no reason to turn from him. The decision to betray the Dark Lord had cost him a lot. He wasn't going to change his allegiance again. The boy was smart and had thought everything through. He was as well prepared for what he was going to face as it was possible to be.
"Yes, that would indeed be better. As for any problems you might be faced with because of Voldemort," Severus flinched. "I will make sure the Ministry finds out about the role you've decided to play in this war, but, only when the time calls for it. Until it is necessary to reveal the truth, it will be best if as few people as possible know about this. I know I can count on your discretion, Severus." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as the boy snorted. It wasn't like he had a choice, not that he had anyone to tell, anyway….
The vision faded.
The memory of the old Headmaster strengthened Severus' resolve. He gingerly pushed himself from the wall, mindful of the pitiful state he was in. The movement brought about an inevitable bout of nausea. The rest of the Death Eaters had already entered the house. Carefully, Severus pulled two small phials of different coloured potions from the inside of his robes.
There were three phials hanging on silver threads around his neck. The strings and phials were charmed to remain invisible as long as Severus didn't call upon them. Snape was glad he'd had the sense to place an unbreakable charm on them as well. The phials contained different potions. One was with a poison – Severus' new development – and it could serve two purposes. Either the Potions Master could use it to ensure himself the Dark Lord's favour – in other words: to preserve his life – or he could actually use it on himself. The latter was a last resort. A safety measure in case of interrogation.
Severus honestly hoped he wouldn't have to test his inventions on his own person. It wasn't that he was that afraid of dying, because he'd had ample time in his short life to get used to the prospect. If the situation called for it, he wouldn't hesitate, but if he were to choose a means of ending his life – poison wouldn't be his first choice.
The other two phials – the ones Severus now held – contained a strengthening potion and a pain relieving one. It wasn't always safe to take these potions without a preliminary medical examination. The Potions Professor was well aware of the danger.
Not wanting to waste any more time, Snape adjusted his mask slightly in order to gain access to his mouth. He swallowed the contents of both phials in quick succession. Feeling somewhat better, Severus climbed the remaining steps and entered the dark Lord's residence. By the time he caught up with the others his condition was very much improved.
Just as he'd expected, no-one appeared to have been paying any attention to him and his absence had most likely gone unnoticed. At least he hoped so – it was always preferable.
Severus was thankful for his Auror training, especially his stealth training. Learning to move without making a sound wasn't as easy as it would seem, but it certainly came in handy – whether it was while working as an Auror, Death Eater, spy or Hogwarts' Professor.
Snape joined Rosier and Nott who were bragging about their latest ideas for torture.
"…and then I tied the little Mudblood bastard's legs with a rope and attached him to the ceiling. You should have heard him screaming and crying! The orphaned brat couldn't even call for his mother, could he? I cast Crucio on him a couple of times – I think he went nuts in the end, though it's hard to say whether it was just the Cruciatus or the whole thing in general." Nott was just saying when he took notice of the masked figure of Severus. "So, Snape, had much fun on this mission?"
It unnerved Severus how easily he was recognised nowadays – masked and hooded though he was. There were four men that matched his height and stature… at least there had been. Lucius was gone, even if probably only temporarily. Rosier had been talking to Nott so he was out of the question… 'Yes, it makes perfect sense after all: Lestrange's in first line, as per usual, and Rookwood is imprisoned, same as Lucius.'
There was also the fact that he'd lost a great deal of weight lately. Severus had always been balancing between lean and thin, favouring "thin" whenever his friends weren't around to force him into eating properly. Lily had been out of the picture for years, but there'd still been either Dumbledore or Lucius.
Over the years, Severus had developed ways of hiding his true figure. It hadn't worked on Lucius even when his friend hadn't been locked away, but it was working fine on Dumbledore, probably not for long though. Wearing several layers of clothing could no longer compensate the loss so Severus was playing with the idea of permanently wearing a glamour. However, upholding the spell was very tiring.
Giving up some of his magical energy wasn't an option among the Death Eaters and, rationally, Severus knew that that was whom he'd really need to hide any signs of weakness from – not Dumbledore. The worst Dumbledore could do was force-feeding him or assigning him treatment from Madam Pomfrey… Not that any of that was an option.
Snape was aware that he would have to start taking better care of himself sooner or later. Many lives could depend on his fitness. He'd started taking nutrition potions to make up for the meals he skipped, but they couldn't be fully effective if taken with Dreamless Sleep Potion. Severus could hardly afford to stop taking the latter, so while he was seriously considering changing his diet, he had to up his dosage of nutrition potion and regularly take some strengthener.
Snape allowed himself a small sigh before addressing Nott.
'Maybe that's why I'm so weak. Not the fire and smoke, or me suddenly growing a new conscience – just pure exhaustion and a bad combination of potions.' Immediately he revolted against the absurd concept, unknowingly choosing the option that normally should have seemed more repulsive to him than the thought of making a mistake and overestimating his strength.
"I dare say I haven't managed to enjoy myself as much as you, Nott." Severus said silkily.
He loathed the man next to him, but he knew he couldn't afford to antagonise him. Nott's blood lust and obsession with torture made him sick, but he felt no inclination to experience it first hand. Nott, the Lestranges and Macnair had always been in charge of tending to prisoners. Severus' assistance was often required in that department, for interrogation purposes, so he'd had more than enough opportunities to see these Death Eaters at work.
Dreams like that would keep anyone awake all night.
Pain for the sake of pain.
Cruelty for the sake of cruelty.
Death for the sake of death.
Severus didn't share his companions' views. If someone had to suffer, then at least there had to be a reason for it. A motive. A goal to be achieved. Something. Anything. Both parties needed something to hold on to – the person suffering and the person responsible for it.
Causing pain to people with inferior strength, with no way of protecting themselves was neither challenging nor gratifying. How someone could derive pleasure from this was beyond him. It was low…
'What does that say about my treatment of those bloody Gryffindors back at Hogwarts? Talk about low.' Severus snorted derisively.
"Your fun is just going to begin, isn't it, Severus?" Rosier's obnoxious tone made Severus cringe. Or maybe it was the use of his name? Usually he was more immune to such things.
"Pardon?" He replied coolly, relying on his Death Eater mask to hide his contemptuous glare.
'Damn those two bastards! Damn them to Hell!' Snape gritted his teeth. His self-control was wearing thin and he was feeling increasingly grateful for the artificial strength the strengthening potion had given him.
"A presentation of a new poison, of course, Severus!" Rosier boomed, his enthusiasm unaffected by Severus' cold reply.
Snape's suspicions were now confirmed.
"I hope it's going to be a good show." Nott cut in casually, though to Severus' trained ears, his voice betrayed the true excitement he felt at the prospect.
'So much for not developing habits. Even that idiot Rosier presumes to be able to read me like a book.' Severus' scowl deepened even further until rational thought returned to him. 'I've got this under control. There's no need stressing over this – I've got a phial for this exact reason and to serve this exact purpose! I could hardly let these two blabber on to the Dark Lord that I'd gone missing for a couple of minutes.'
"It should be interesting, Nott."
'I should start taking more strengthener with me… I don't know if I can pull this off… I'm not good at the whole groveling at His feet part and I'd better do some serious sucking up tonight... Who knows, He might get wind of a group of kids surviving that fire and I'd rather be on His good side when that happens...'
"I believe it's going to be quite to your liking as well, Rosier." Severus added deliberate stress to the man's surname in order to remind him that they weren't on a first name basis.
The hard tone and menacing posture of the Potions Master appeared to have the desired effect even on someone as obtuse as Rosier. The tall man gulped. It took him a moment to regain his composure as Severus' dark, fathomless eyes bore into his through slits in his white mask.
It really was no wonder that students were so easily terrified by their Potions Professor.
"It better be to the liking of our Master." Rosier recovered and countered arrogantly. As Severus' eyes flashed dangerously, he felt compelled to add "Snape", just for good measure.
Severus' position was quite unique among his fellow Death Eaters. It was undeniably very strong, due to his wealth, education and his friendship with Lucius Malfoy. Everyone knew that they couldn't hope to match his skills at Potions and that made him a valued asset to the Dark Lord. He was a powerful wizard and he had special training that no other Death Eater had. His father's training had been typical of the most prominent pure-blooded families, but he had an advantage over his peers thanks to his time with the Aurors.
"Of course it's going to be to our Master's liking." Severus said with more confidence than he felt.
"I look forward to the day you finally slip, Snape, just to see that smirk wiped off your face! Even if I am going to miss your occasional presentations when it happens." Nott said. Curiosity seemed to get the better of him because he continued. "What have you been doing back there? Thinking of scenarios for the show, no doubt?"
"Our Lord will have the poison at His disposal, as He does all my potions. He will do with it as He pleases." Snape replied coolly, choosing to ignore the man's earlier comments. He worried about making a slip often enough on his own. Severus didn't need Nott pointing out the obvious – although very unwelcome – truth, that his luck wasn't going to last forever. Sooner or later he wasn't going to make it back from a gathering. As his brain persisted in remaining engaged in these grim thoughts, Severus got a nagging feeling in the back of his mind.
'Bullshit! I'm always nervous when I'm not 100 percent and no wonder! It's easier to make a mistake this way… Maybe I've been hanging around that old hag Trelawney too much?' It took all of Severus' will to keep himself from visibly shuddering as the previous vision of his own death was replaced by the image of the Divination Professor. 'Definitely the wrong train of thought…'
"Ah, Severus, my young and gifted friend, I hear you have something new for us? I do hope it is as amusing as your last potion?" Voldemort said pleasantly. The 'or else' hung in the air.
Severus found himself having half the mind to ask 'Or else what?', but caught himself. It wouldn't do to enrage the Dark Lord, it wouldn't do at all. Severus was beginning to feel lightheaded again. The pain relieving potion and the strengthening one didn't seem to be getting along well with the carbon monoxide still in his blood.
"Yes, my Lord." He said instinctively, while his brain began thinking of chemical reactions that might be taking place in his entire blood stream. He found himself wondering, with some detached amusement, if his own safe potions wouldn't prove to have the same poisonous effect as his poisons. He felt like laughing out loud at this.
Without conscious thought, Severus' body lowered to the dirty and cold stone floor. The hard surface should have hurt his lacerated knees, but apparently the potion was still working as he barely felt a thing. Touching the stones with his forehead, Severus recognised the stench of dried blood and other matter. He felt grateful for the mask he had on his face. At least it wasn't his bare skin that came in contact with this dirt. His own blood now found it easier to reach his brain and his thoughts cleared.
Snape reached for the last thread around his neck and pulled it taut until the phial was free. He outstretched his hand in offering, biting his lower lip till the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. The indignity of it! He wanted nothing more than to get to his feet and throttle that snake of a man!
"You may rise, Severus." The Dark Lord hissed at His servant. "Take off your mask, my friend, it is hot in here, is it not?"
'More like freezing you Half-blooded baboon! Or has Your time as a mere spirit made it impossible for you to determine the temperature?' Severus sneered while he gathered himself to his feet. His own thoughts terrified him, because he was acutely aware of the weakened state of the walls around his mind. With great effort he cleared his mind just in time to be able to lift his mask.
"Yes, Master." He said and this time felt proud to have managed to keep his disgust to himself. His face was its usual unreadable mask. "I can only hope that the poison is to Your satisfaction." He bowed his dark head and once again offered the phial to Lord Voldemort. This time the man took it in His white, bony fingers. The phial had been soiled with the dirt on the ground at their feet because Severus had used his hands to support himself.
The black-haired wizard watched as the reddish brown slime attached itself to the already slimy skin. He remained impassive throughout the Dark Lord's inspection of the phial.
"I believe I have just the right person on whom we shall use this. Thank you, Severus, you have done well. I do not wish to know what this potion does, rather, let it be a surprise." The Dark Lord's laugh chilled Severus even more.
Unless he was very much mistaken, he was burning up with a fever. That couldn't be good. As he tried to concentrate and find a source of an infection or another reason for his rising temperature, he was peripherally aware of Voldemort's voice droning on near him. He'd moved to speak to Nott.
Severus took the opportunity to look about himself. The other Death Eaters had taken off their masks after the Dark Lord had asked Severus to do so. None of them seemed to have a death wish tonight.
'And what a pity that is.' Severus thought.
'Trelawney could make a living around here.' This time there was amusement lacing his thoughts as he saw Nott fall to the ground after a flash of green light hit him on the chest. He felt absolutely no regret because of the man's death, except that maybe it could have happened sooner, before the Death Eater had had the chance to torture innocent children tonight… or even before that… Anyway, Theodore Nott's life could only improve because of his father's death and Severus' first loyalty was to his students.
"Isn't that right, my young friend?" Severus heard a voice hiss in his ear. A cold breath bathed the side of his face and neck. Simultaneously, a long, skeletal finger, covered with a reddish brown substance, caressed his cheek. The odour and the cold he could bear, but the touch…
Severus flinched, immediately knowing that he would pay for his moment of weakness.
He'd been so certain that he'd got over his childhood instinct… he had… 'Oh Merlin, if only I'd been paying attention! I'd have known He was near…'
Unexpectedly, a feeling of calm spread through Severus. He schooled his features into a neutral look, knowing it would do nothing to save his life, but at least no-one would be able to say that Snape was a coward. He lifted his obsidian eyes to meet two pools of red… like blood. Those eyes looked as though they reflected the actions of the man who possessed them.
"What is this, Severus?" The Dark Lord narrowed His eyes, hatred flashing in the scarlet orbs. "Do I repulse you, Severus? Do you find the touch of your Master disgusting?" He bellowed, still not moving from Severus' personal space.
"No, Lord Voldemort." Severus replied without missing a beat. He didn't even flinch.
Dumbledore was going to find out about the attack on the orphanage anyway and there was nothing Severus could do for those children now. He might as well show his true colours! At least he would die a traitor and then everyone would know, his students would know that he hadn't been Voldemort's loyal servant! Most importantly, Draco Malfoy would know. His godson was facing a difficult decision and without Lucius, he could be turned to the Light. Draco already had doubts.
Another thought came to him. There'd been an attack on Diagon Alley planned for the upcoming week. If Severus was exposed as a spy, then the time of the attack would be changed and the Order wouldn't even know. He couldn't allow that to happen. It was the least he could do now, since he would no longer be able to provide them with information.
"Please, forgive me, my Lord. I do not seem to be acting like myself tonight." He whispered humbly, bowing his head and then falling to his knees. The sudden change of altitude made him dizzy, but he didn't care at the moment. Voldemort would kill him, but at least He wouldn't know he was a spy.
'No groveling! I will not beg for anything, especially my life!'
"Yesss." Voldemort hissed. "And yet you will have to pay for that, my dear Severus. A pity, but I cannot have my servants act like this… After all, they might feel they can betray me." The man heaved a dramatic sigh through his snake-like nostrils. "And I had such high hopes for you… Haemorrhagia Intra! Now, Severus, you will serve your last duty to me. You will go back to Hogwarts and give a message to Dumbledore."
"A message? Is my death to be the message You speak of, my Lord, or is there something You wish me to say?" Severus' voice didn't betray the shock he felt. He'd been anticipating the attack, what surprised him was the Dark Lord's choice of punishment.
'Bloody bastard! I'm going to bleed to death! He killed Nott, for whatever reason, with a swift Avada Kedavra and He's making me suffer! Fucking, twisted bastard!...' He stopped short in his raving as he realised that Tom Riddle pretty much had been a bastard. His lips twitched at the corners. Voldemort must have noticed Snape's amusement because His eyes turned to slits. Severus met His gaze unwaveringly, knowing that he was treading on thin ice. Somehow he just couldn't bring himself to cower humbly in front of his former Master anymore.
'Think of the consequences! Think of the consequences of your defiance!' He kept repeating the mantra and with effort managed to lower his gaze and stop himself from standing up. His knees itched and burned but he didn't think it was because of his injuries – kneeling before the Dark Lord had always felt like kneeling on hot coals to him.
"Your death will be enough. You may go." Severus didn't need to be told twice. He got to his feet gladly, but swayed. Voldemort laughed cruelly. "You would better hurry. The curse appears to be working already. Oh, and Severus, just that you should know – there is no cure for this curse, so don't bother trying to find one. I am only being so lenient with you and am letting you leave because your death at Hogwarts will serve my purpose." Severus ducked his head to hide the anger and loathing that he knew burned in his eyes. "That will show that Muggle-loving, trusting old fool!"
"Yes Lord. Thank You." Snape almost choked on those words. He backed away from Him till he felt the pressure of the door behind his back. Bowing even lower, he opened the door while still facing the Dark Lord. The evil wizard had already turned His back on him and had moved on to torment another of His Death Eaters.
Standing there, Severus hesitated. His vision blurred and he swayed again. He had a clear aim at Lord Voldemort, but what could he accomplish even if he cast the Killing Curse? He was aware of the existence of the prophecy. The only person able to kill Him was the Potter boy… Snape watched the Dark Lord torturing Rosier with the Cruciatus and his thoughts traveled back to Hogwarts, particularly to a young unruly-haired boy who was staying there for the summer. He was no match for Voldemort, not yet anyway. Harry Potter owed his life to the love of his mother and the traits she'd passed on to him. There was very little of James Potter in him. If he were as arrogant, egocentric and foolish as Potter Senior had been at his age, then there'd be little hope for Harry. The boy's future was uncertain and it wasn't looking very bright at the moment.
Severus wondered whether taking out a few Death Eaters might not prove more beneficial to their cause than enabling the Order to thwart the attack on Diagon Alley. In the end, he decided against it, accepting that it was mostly his desire to fight openly in this war that had brought these thoughts on. After all – it was his last chance. He was a dead man walking…
He walked out battling the temptation to turn back and headed for the front door. His actions couldn't cripple the Dark Lord's forces sufficiently – there was more hope that the Order could save all the people at Diagon Alley thanks to his earlier warnings than of him making a difference now.
Moving along the long, dank corridors took its toll on the weakened man. 'Of course it's irreversible! Does the snake think me a fool? How could I not know this curse?' His thoughts distracted him from the increasing pain he felt.
The cold air outside seemed warmer than what he'd endured inside Riddle's house. He was chilled to the bone. Walking, or rather staggering, away from that wretched place, Severus felt his mood lighten.
It was over. His struggle, his penance… Finally, at long last he was free of all his duties and obligations. So what if he wouldn't be there to see the Dark Lord's fall? He'd done all in his power to help the Light and now he was no longer able to be of use. The thought of taking a poison and making his death quicker crossed his mind until he remembered that he'd given it to Voldemort. He didn't have the time to complete another one…
'Oh well, I will just have to go to Hogwarts and give Albus my last report. I do want to see him again, though I'm not going to tell him about Voldemort's curse. Damn, the Order is supposed to have a meeting tonight… I'd have rather talked to Albus alone… I'm going to have to patch myself up before I go to the meeting… I'll take a strengthener, a blood replenishing potion and something for the pain too… no need bothering with nutrition tonight…' He almost smiled as he neared the Apparition point. Somehow he managed to Disapparate and Apparate in the Shrieking Shack without splinching himself. He had everything he needed to heal most of his injuries hidden inside and there was also a set of clean clothes.
With his physical strength somewhat restored, Severus swept across the grounds, his black robes billowing behind him. He'd taken enough strengthening potion to serve a half-unconscious Hagrid.
It was a warm, beautiful night. Severus gazed up at the starry sky.
'Now this I understand! Honestly, there has to be a connection between bad weather and Dark magic! Hogwarts is buzzing with pure, good magic and the weather here is never as foul as it is in Voldemort's proximity… It's always freezing wherever He is…' Severus decided to enjoy the warmth while he still could. It was so good to be home.
Snape let the corners of his mouth curve into a wry smile as he thought about the situation he was in - there was nothing he could do so he might as well find some enjoyment. There was no reason to plague himself with regrets now…
A/N
I'd like to thank all my readers and especially my reviewers! I hope to receive more feedback! ;) I don't know if this is any good. Any suggestions, questions – ANYTHING – is welcome!
A special thanks to: Lilith11, Oya, Silverthreads, carpathia, WeasleyGirl-ca, duj, lucidity, XiaoGui, devil's angel, TheDeathChamber and zafaran for their reviews! They helped me a great deal! ;) Thank you, you kept me going!
I had problems with my computer and I lost most of this story, the chapter above included. I'm currently trying to write it all over again. I'm having problems because I only had bits and pieces on paper… Well, at least I'm in a position where I can still go either way with the story. It depends how I feel like when I'm writing, because trying to recreate all that I already had is more difficult than writing something new. ;)
Until next time! At least I hope so! ;D