Oblivion
By K. Cloak
Chapter 2: A Sense of Self-Preservation
There wasn't another Death Eater meeting for four days – long enough for Severus to get over his hangover, push Lucius to the back of his mind, and make up the work he had missed, but not long enough for him to go back to Albus. It was clear that Lucius had been telling the other Death Eaters about Severus's little "assignment:" Severus had run into three Death Eaters within the last few days, all of whom had made vague comments about it.
When the meeting did come, Severus followed the call of the Dark Mark with record speed. He found himself in a rather cold clearing in a dismal forest; the pale half-moon could be seen through the branches of the autumn trees. With some relief, Severus noticed that Lucius had already arrived and had taken a spot far away, greatly decreasing the likelihood of another guilt-inducing conversation's taking place.
Severus reported to the Dark Lord without incident, spouting carefully constructed lies that he had agreed on earlier with Albus and just as carefully shielding his own true feelings. Voldemort assigned him an Auror to capture and interrogate, but thankfully gave the job to him alone. Faking the results of an interrogation, as well as the death of the victim, was much easier when Severus had no partner to deceive.
The meeting lasted less than an hour, and Voldemort dismissed his followers shortly before midnight. With the kind of speed characteristic of a group of men and women used to their lord's casual use of the Cruciatus curse, the Death Eaters began disappearing in twos and threes.
Trying to be inconspicuous, Severus began to make his way toward the unknown Death Eater. He was within an arm's length of the man when suddenly the Dark Mark on his arm burst into life, and with more accompanying pain than usual. Severus froze. With dismay, he turned to see the Dark Lord standing in the grass; the dismay intensified as a series of pops signaled the departure of the rest of the other Death Eaters.
"My Lord," he said, approaching Voldemort as a sense of dread settled onto his shoulders. He had no idea why the Dark Lord would want to speak with him outside of a meeting, besides perhaps to kill him. With the Dark Lord, that possibility was never completely out of the question.
Severus knelt in the grass before the tall, imposing form of the Dark Lord, but the Mark did not stop burning. Voldemort knew something, then.
"Severus," Voldemort hissed. "Stand."
"Yes, my Lord," replied Severus, rising to his feet but keeping his eyes on the ground.
"I have heard from one of your fellow Death Eaters that you have recently developed and interest in one of the new members." Voldemort's words carried an inherent threat that even Crabbe and Goyle could have recognized, and Severus wasn't surprised to find the Dark Lord's words accompanied with his usual piercing Legilimency. A normal, untrained wizard would not know at all what Voldemort was doing, but Severus could sense it and had to fight to give no indication of his discomfort. Severus could feel Voldemort pulsing in his skull, forcing his way around, trying to see what Severus kept carefully hidden. It was like being French kissed by a rough and unwanted partner: intimate in an unpleasant way.
"Yes, my Lord," Severus replied again. Carefully, he fabricated feelings of loyalty to Voldemort and pushed them into the forefront of his consciousness, like bait for a fish. Arrogant as always and overconfident in his own skills, Voldemort took the bait.
"Why?" he hissed. Only Voldemort could make a single word so frightening.
"I fear that he may harbor disloyal feelings, my Lord. He seems to avoid the other Death Eaters. I thought-"
"What you think is insignificant. If he does not wish to share his identity with you, you shall not attempt to find it on your own. Do I make myself clear?" Leaning down, Voldemort brought his pale face close to Severus's and peered into his eyes with a hellish gaze that sent half the blood in Severus's body plummeting to his toes.
"Yes, my Lord. I will do whatever you command, my Lord."
Voldemort smiled; it made Severus's blood run cold. "Good. Leave."
"Yes, my Lord." Bowing slightly, Severus turned to leave, wanting to put a good distance between himself and the Dark Lord as quickly as possible. He could feel droplets of cold sweat beginning to run down his forehead beneath the mask and exhaled slowly, glad that his own interrogation was over for the night. Taking a breath, he raised his wand to Apparate.
At that moment, Voldemort gathered his considerable strength and pierced into Severus's mind. Even a normal wizard would have felt such a mental blow, and Severus found it impossible not to jerk forward and drop his wand as Voldemort shoved his way into his skull. The Dark Lord began rifling through his memories, skimming over the events themselves and drawing out the emotions behind them. Severus was drawn back with him, watching for a second time as he drank himself into a stupor in Berlin, had his visit with Lucius, argued with his wife, attended the other meeting, went to work, returned home from Hog-
NO! Severus's whole mind shrieked at him as Voldemort skimmed the surface of the meeting with Albus – his Occlumency practice – and swooped down for more detail like a hawk onto helpless prey… It would mean certain death if Voldemort discovered the detail behind those memories.
Desperate, Severus pushed a false memory in place of the last two memories. He draped the walls of his study over Albus's gadget-filled office, replaced the light of early morning with the dark of a poorly-lit room. He covered the whole fabrication with a great sense of alone, and buried Albus Dumbledore behind the lie.
Severus could feel the Dark Lord hesitate over the false memory and push harder. Beneath the emotionless shield of Occlumency, Severus was rapidly beginning to panic, and he knew that the emotion would cause his own demise if he didn't control it. Straining still, Severus shoved the panic down, knowing that at any second, he'd fail and Voldemort would see him as the traitor he was.
And then, suddenly, Voldemort stopped, releasing Severus with such abruptness that he staggered forward. From behind him, Severus heard a pop as Voldemort disapparated, leaving Severus by himself.
Shaking, Severus sank to his knees and let himself fall onto the grass, tearing the mask from his face and tossing it to one side. He raised his hands to his sweaty face as the panic he'd felt bubbled to the surface and threatened to turn to hysteria – beneath his fingertips Severus could feel his pulse flickering rapidly at his temples.
He'd never been so close to being caught - he'd never come so close to being summarily tried and executed by the Dark Lord than he had just a moment ago. Severus forced himself to breathe slowly, and his panic began to recede to a manageable level. Returning to his feet, Severus retrieved his mask and wand.
He had to go back to Albus.
-o-o-o-
Severus strode across the Hogwarts grounds as fast as he could, making his way swiftly to the castle. We moved swiftly not only because he had just nearly gotten himself killed, but also because he was unexpected and therefore vulnerable to the anti-Death Eater wards surrounding the castle. Severus's breath was already becoming labored, and not from his brisk pace, but from the Strangling Hex that was already starting to take hold of him.
Severus approached the set of large doors that led to the great hall and pushed on them, only to find them locked. Crap, he thought, looking back over the distance he'd covered. He'd pass out from the wards before he made it back to the Forbidden Forest. Desperate, he knocked on the door and listened as the sound carried through the hall on the other side.
Somehow, he doubted that Albus had made the Strangling Hex lethal, but he didn't particularly want to find out. Glancing back over the grounds, Severus had just decided to try and sprint back when one of the doors creaked open and a sour-looking man appeared in the doorway.
"What do you want?" asked Argus Filch, the thirty-six-year-old caretaker of Hogwarts. He stood in the doorway, an ugly cat and even uglier kitten on the floor behind him.
"Let me in," said Severus, already gasping. "I need to talk to Dumbledore."
"You can't wait till morning?" Filch asked, wedging himself further into the doorway as if to say "go away" in the loudest possible body language.
"No!" Severus snapped.
"The Headmaster has to sleep, Mr. Snape. Come back tomorrow."
Flich stepped backward and moved to close the door in Severus's face; Severus put his foot in the way and wedged himself into the castle.
"I'm sure he won't mind," Severus said, sneering.
Apparently uninterested in a protracted argument, Filch gave a shrug and stepped aside. Severus shoved past him rather rudely and took off at a run for Albus Dumbledore's office.
Shouting the password at the gargoyle, Severus ran up the already-moving staircase to Dumbledore's rooms and began to pound on the closed door.
"Albus!" he called, his voice failing. Although he knew there was nothing there, he couldn't help putting his hands to his throat as the hex tightened, halting his breath completely. Severus sank down in front of the door, banging on it again as his vision began to tunnel.
Severus was about to find out if the ward was lethal or not when the door opened and the invisible hands around his neck abruptly released him.
Gasping, Severus sat back on his heels for a moment before getting to his feet. In front of him stood Albus, looking not angry, as Severus had expected, but rather worried. He had clearly just jumped out of bed and looked disheveled, with bits of his white hair sticking out from his cap at all angles.
"Severus! What's wrong?"
Looping an arm around Severus's back, Albus led him to what had become his usual chair and, as usual, pulled another chair up near it.
"Sorry… couldn't wait… until morning…" said Severus, still out of breath. He paused for several moments, waiting until he could speak normally.
"What happened?" asked Albus. "Was there a meeting tonight?"
Severus dropped his head into his hands. "There were two," he said miserably. "One right after you told me about the possible traitor, and one tonight. I… I couldn't bring myself to come here after we had that argument."
"What argument, Severus?"
Despondently, Severus looked up into Albus's innocent blue eyes. "Oh, you've got to be kidding, Albus," he said. "I pretty much told you to go to hell and that you were a bastard, and then didn't even have the decency to let you defend yourself."
"Severus, I know that you can often be stubborn, uncooperative, and difficult to get along with. I think you find me to be the same way. It doesn't make me dislike you."
Severus groaned at Albus's kind words and buried his face farther in his hands. "Oh, Albus, I know I should have come before. I… I nearly got myself killed tonight."
"Did Voldemort try to…?"
Severus nodded. "I've never been as deeply searched as I was tonight, Albus. He- he got through. He saw bits of everything from the last four days. I covered up my meeting with you at the very last second. If I'd been a fraction of a second slower, I'd be dead now." Severus knew that he was shaking again, but couldn't quite summon the strength of will to stop. He sat in miserable silence for several minutes, during which Albus left the room and came back. He finally looked up when Albus sat down in front of him and gave him a tap on the shoulder. He had two mugs hooked with one hand; carefully, he handed one to Severus.
"Hot chocolate, Severus. Pretty much all cream and sugar." He smiled at his own little joke.
Severus put both hands around the warm mug, not having noticed how cold he was until then. "Thanks," he said softly, blowing on the surface and watching the steam dance away. He stared at the tendrils of steam for several minutes before speaking in a calmer tone. "I'm sorry I came bursting in like this – I was just-"
"Terrified. And with good reason."
Severus sighed and took a sip of his hot chocolate. "If the Dark Lord does this again, I think I'll break," he admitted suddenly. "I don't like the thought." He paused as Albus smiled again.
"What could possibly be giving you reason to be cheerful?"
"Ah, Severus. You've inadvertently given me two pieces of good news."
"Certainty of death is good news now?"
"You're not going to die, Severus."
"Really," he intoned, deadpan. Now beginning to get over his panic, Severus was swiftly reverting to normal.
"Really," said Albus shortly. "You think that Voldemort nearly found you out – a close call, I will admit. But I think that he put everything he had into searching you, Severus. And you defied him. He won't try that again anytime soon – he's too arrogant to believe that anyone could block a probe like that. You, on the other hand, will only get stronger. He's been a Legilimens for decades – you've only been practicing Occlumency for a year and a half." Severus took a moment to mull over Albus's words.
"Well… I suppose that does make me feel a little better, actually. What's the second piece of good news?"
The smile on Albus's face broadened.
"You were scared to death when you came in here."
"I don't see how that is good news at all, unless you've suddenly developed an interest in sadism."
Albus shook his head gently, still smiling despite his now serious tone. "The first few times you met with the Death Eaters as a spy, you were so depressed that I thought you might be caught at any moment. You said it yourself – you didn't care if you lived or died. It wasn't much motivation to avoid being found out, especially considering that little promise you made me."
"I didn't think you'd look into it that deeply."
"Oh, really, Severus. Even if you're magically forbidden to commit suicide, you can still act in a suicidal manner."
"And now I've found a reason to live." Severus pressed both hands to his heart in a falsely melodramatic gesture.
"If not that, you've found a reason not to die."
Severus had no response. Albus was right – somewhere along the line, he'd redeveloped his sense of self-preservation.
He spent another half an hour with Albus, then left for home.
-o-o-o-
More than a week went by, and Severus began to wonder when the Dark Lord would summon the Death Eaters again. Life passed in its typical manner: Severus got up in the morning, ignored his wife as well as he could, went to work, stayed late, and came home. He met with Albus once, but their discussion was short. Severus ambushed the Auror he was supposed to interrogate and kill, obtained enough information from him to make up a suitable set of lies for the Dark Lord, and sent him to Dumbledore to be put in hiding.
Then, something nearly as scary as another interrogation by Voldemort came along: the Halloween party at work.
On the night of October 31st, Severus was sent home at the ridiculously early hour of 4:30 to get ready for the party at six. The boss, a cheerful, middle-aged Potions Mistress covered in burn scars from her early research, had practically ordered Severus to wear something other than black, and had subtly but clearly indicated that she wanted Severus to wash his hair.
So, grumbling to himself, Severus had washed his hair and put on a set of robes in dark forest green. He then searched the house from top to bottom for Juliette, wishing that he didn't have to bring her.
Severus found Juliette in the last place he would have expected: his study. Sitting at his desk, she was looking through a book that had the brand-new look of an unwanted gift. Hearing him enter the room, she looked up and sneered, but her face was paler than usual.
"I thought I'd get Your Highness for the party," he said, sneering back. Walking up to the desk, he plucked the book out from under her fingers and turned it around. "Divination?" he scoffed, opening it to the section where she had been reading. "Interpretation of dreams? Did you have a nightmare, dearest?"
"That is none of your business!" she snapped. Standing, she slammed the book shut on his fingers and took it back.
"The party's in half an hour," Severus said tonelessly, turning to leave.
"I'm not going," she said from behind him.
Severus turned back briefly. "It's no loss," he said coldly. As he left, he briefly wondered if his wife had indeed had some sort of premonition, but just as quickly dismissed it. Divination was a bunch of crap.
-o-o-o-
"So, what do you think, Severus? Does the quality of the music make up for Wentworth's awful singing voice?"
Severus stood in the main room of the potions shop in which he worked, surrounded by twenty or so witches and wizards, most of whom were naturally boring and had been made completely asinine by the large amounts of alcohol they'd consumed. Standing in the corner had saved Severus from any of their stupid conversations for the first half hour of the party – that was, the half an hour before his coworkers got really drunk. After that, even the taciturn, uncharacteristically non-greasy young man wedged in the corner had become interesting to some of them, and Severus now found himself with one arm trapped in the crook of his boss's elbow, taking part in a conversation about wizarding popular music and holding on to an untouched bottle of beer.
He felt like a trapped animal.
"Well?" his boss asked again. "Do you like the Headless Horsemen?"
Severus desperately wanted to speak his mind in the usual manner, which would be to tell his boss that the Headless Horsemen were a bunch of idiots without a functioning brain between all four of them. Unfortunately, Severus also wanted to keep his job.
"Um…" he replied, at a loss for words that were not sarcastic. "I… think they're all right," he said lamely. Half of the six people in his little group burst into laughter for no apparent reason; he couldn't imagine he was the cause.
"I told you!" shouted the other junior Potions Master, a twenty-six-year-old wizard named Val Johns. Johns was now the drunken color of a ripe tomato. "If Severus likes em, they've gotta be good."
"Oh, Wentworth's a talentless ass!" a woman's voice shouted back. Severus agreed with her, and looked over to see Minna Dean, a thirty-something with a green drink in her hand, walk up to Johns with the sort of bluster he wouldn't have expected from her. Dean ran the register and was usually quite shy; Severus didn't think he'd ever heard her say the word "ass" before.
"You dunno whatcher talking about," slurred Johns. "Doesn't have any taste, that one." He jerked his finger at Dean.
"I'll give you something to taste!" At the point where Dean dumped her drink on Johns's head, Severus began to realize that these two were both the angry type of drunk. He untangled his arm from the boss's and began to sidle away as Johns, his blond hair now vivid green and dripping, whipped his wand out and sent a Leg-Locker curse at Dean. Severus was surprised that the curse worked, considering Johns's condition.
Tripping over her suddenly leaden feet, Dean fell to the floor as the wizard next to Johns disarmed him and pinned his arms behind him. Unfortunately for both of them, that left them vulnerable as Dean recovered and sent a Hail Hex at them. Some of the hailstones drew blood before the boss disarmed Dean.
Severus, now at the threshold to one of the back rooms, listened as the shouts of "break it up!" swelled and then died down. They were soon replaced by laughter and shouts of a more innocuous type. Dean and Johns probably wouldn't even remember the fight in the morning.
Severus was almost glad for the argument – it had allowed him to slip away. Sighing, he shut the door to the workroom he'd entered and took a seat on the table by the window, looking out at the night sky. He could still hear the hubbub of the party from the other room; apparently, however, nobody had thought to look for him. Severus considered just Apparating home. It was around eight o'clock; he figured he'd put in a long enough appearance to assure the boss that he could be a "team player" when necessary.
The Dark Mark chose that moment to burst into life. He hadn't been expecting it, and dropped the bottle in his left hand as pain flared in his forearm. Grimacing both at the sound of shattering glass and the thought of the meeting ahead, Severus Apparated home to fetch his mask.
-o-o-o
A/N: Thanks a lot, Rosaleen, for being my sole reviewer! (It's so depressing to get the big fat zero!) And hey, it's Halloween already – Severus is going to have quite an interesting next chapter.