Power the Dark Lord knows not

Chapter 2: Snape

He's thinking, maybe it's a trap, maybe half of the Order are waiting for me in the house, maybe they're going to call the Aurors as soon as they've got my wand … and that would be bad. Well of course that was always the fatal weakness in Dumbledore's plan, how was he going to do it in a way that would convince the Dark Lord, once and for all, of where his loyalties lie, do it in a way that would convince the whole of the wizarding world - and still get Potter to believe him, get Potter to believe any information about the Horcruxes that he can give to Potter?

He thinks, what if the Dark Lord finds out I'm here? That would be worse, I can spin him a story that I was trying to trap Potter, trying to bring Potter to him, he might believe it, although he'll be pissed I didn't run it by him first, but if he doesn't believe me … it probably won't be death by crucio, he'll rough me up a bit but he wouldn't give me the dignity of killing me by magic, he wouldn't give me the honour of killing me himself, he didn't kill Regulus Black personally, ha, he gave me that job, because we were friendly at school, we were both victims of his arsehole of a brother … the Dark Lord knows I hate werewolves, he might let the werewolf have me, he might give me to Greyback … that foul disgusting werewolf, why doesn't Lupin kill him, doesn't he understand that he isn't going to get anywhere with the werewolf pack unless he kills Greyback, makes himself the pack leader? He thinks, Greyback is on my list, but it might be a while before I get to him, I've got other priorities at the moment … Bellatrix is first up … why doesn't Lupin do it, the weak bastard …

He remembers the beatings his father gave him as a child, and he thinks, the Dark Lord knows about that, probably he'll have Crabbe and Goyle do it, Muggle-style, and he thinks about what Crabbe and Goyle will do to him with their fists and their boots, they'll start by breaking his nose and his jaw and his ribs but that will just be the beginning, and he thinks, I'm a wizard, I won't die as quickly as a Muggle, I won't die until they've really made a mess of me, and he is nearly sick with fear.

Moody and Potter have finally recognised him, he thinks so it begins, and he tosses his cigarette butt on the ground, grinds it into the ground with his heel. He walks towards them but he knows the drill, the procedure if you want to give yourself up to the Aurors, so he stops a fair distance away and carefully takes his wand out of his jacket pocket – oak, dragon heartstring, thirteen inches – drops it on the ground, and steps away from it. He wonders if he'll ever hold that wand again, he's fond of it, it's only the second wand he's ever used in his life …

Moody picks up his wand and escorts him up to the front door, and Potter is waiting for him, and he thinks, you little sod Potter, you don't know what I've done for you, but you're about to find out, and I hope it hurts … but he still winces inside when he hears Potter pronounce his name as if it was a swear-word. Potter is glaring at him, and he thinks, as if I need Legilimency to see how much you hate me … Albus, it's going to be tough job to convince Potter of the truth, even if they have brought your Pensieve.

He walks through the front door, and he thinks, this is it … but the hallway is empty. Moody is prodding his neck with his wand, so he keeps walking all the way down to the kitchen, and when he sees the Pensieve sitting on the kitchen table he almost sighs audibly with relief. He doesn't need to be told that the chair with chains dangling from its arms is for him, he can remember the day he appeared before Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Dumbledore vouched for him as if it was yesterday. He sits in the chair, feels the chains wrap themselves around his arms, and looks across the table at Moody and Potter. Moody says something to him, something about doing him over, and he answers, but he's just being reflexively nasty, he's hardly thinking about what he's saying, Potter is the key, Potter is the only one who counts.

Moody is growling again, "Get on with it, Snape, we haven't got all day," and he's about to start speaking when Potter says, "It doesn't matter what you say, Snape, I know you're Voldemort's creature." He flinches a little at the mention of the Dark Lord's name, and Potter starts shouting, "Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort … you're one of his Death Eaters, why don't you like to hear his name?" And he knows that his fear of the Dark Lord is showing on his face, just as the pain of the Dark Mark is burning in his arm. He thinks, does Potter know it hurts, it hurts to speak of the Dark Lord's name, is he deliberately tormenting me? Oh, this is going well – not. And his fear of the Dark Lord is almost overwhelming, he thinks, Dumbledore is dead, the Headmaster is dead, my protector is dead …

He thinks, get a grip, the Dark Lord's name is going to be thrown around like confetti in this conversation, so he pushes the pain and fear away, fixes his eyes on Potter's face, leans forward a little, and without any preliminaries he begins his story.

"I don't know how much you know of this, Potter, so I'll tell the whole story from the beginning. The Dark Lord was very displeased with Lucius Malfoy for allowing his diary to be destroyed, and you know what the diary was, don't you, Potter?"

Potter nods, yes, he knows that the diary was the second Horcrux, and Dumbledore must have told him how the Dark Lord punished Lucius for his mistake.

"The Dark Lord was also very displeased with Lucius over the fiasco in the Department of Mysteries last year, but he could not punish him personally for it because Lucius had been captured and imprisoned in Azkaban … so he chose to punish him indirectly, by giving Draco a task to perform, a task that he could not perform, a task that he was expected to die trying to perform. The Dark Lord ordered him to kill Dumbledore."

Potter nods again, good, he's keeping up with the story, and he sees in the boy's eyes that he believes him.

"Narcissa Malfoy came to me, in the summer break, to ask me to intercede with the Dark Lord on behalf of Draco. That I refused to do, for I knew the Dark Lord would not be persuaded, and it would be foolish even to try. However, I offered to protect Draco, to look after him … I thought I might gain information from him if he trusted me. Narcissa asked me to make the Unbreakable Vow with her, asked me to swear to her that I would protect Draco. Do you know what an Unbreakable Vow is, and what the consequences of breaking it are? Anyone who breaks an Unbreakable Vow dies, they die immediately and they die horribly."

Potter nods, and he sees that the Unbreakable Vow is not new information, but he hesitates a little before going on, this is the difficult bit …

"Narcissa put me in an awkward position … she brought her sister Bellatrix with her, and Bellatrix has never trusted me, has never believed that I had really returned to the Dark Lord. If I had refused to make the Vow, she would have had reason for her suspicions, she would have gone straight to the Dark Lord. I agreed to take the Vow, but Narcissa tricked me. She added a promise to the Vow that I had not agreed to make. She asked me to complete Draco's task, if he failed."

He pauses, he needs to choose his words carefully, he doesn't want to tell Potter about what happened in the Forbidden Forest and how the Headmaster released him from his promise of obedience, not unless he has to.

"I told the Headmaster of the mistake that I had made, and he ordered me to fulfil the Vow. He reasoned that his life was, ah, more expendable than mine … that if I fulfilled the Vow, the Dark Lord might trust me sufficiently to share certain precious secrets with me, precious secrets that I could pass to you. The Headmaster ordered me to kill him, Potter."

Potter is looking befuddled, but he can see that the boy is thinking about what he has said, and he's got another card to play. He says, "Dumbledore trusted me, Potter, he trusted me enough to tell me the whole of the prophecy before he … died," and he leans forward and whispers the important part of the prophecy, power the Dark Lord knows not … the rest of it was just some guff about how Potter would have to kill the Dark Lord or be killed by him, no surprises there … Clever of Dumbledore, to make such a big fuss about the prophecy, the Dark Lord had been obsessed with it, and Dumbledore had bought another year of life for Potter, another year for Potter to grow up in.

Potter has really been thrown by this information, and he can't restrain a smirk, but he's forgotten about Moody, Moody is striding around the table towards him, and shouting something about slimy lying bastard, and there's a horrible wet crunching noise as Moody's fist smacks into his nose, breaks his nose … blood is spurting all over his shirt, and he twists in his chains, looks loathingly at Moody, and he thinks, that bloody hurt, Moody, you prick, you would have made a good Death Eater … if I had my wand, Moody, I'd finish the job I started seventeen years ago, I'd pulverise every bone in your body, not just the ones in your leg.

What the hell is Potter doing? Potter has got his handkerchief out, and he realises that Potter is going to touch him, he never lets anyone touch him – he's humiliated and angry, he jerks his head away and spits, "If you must, Potter, use the spell – Tergeo."

Now Moody is speaking again, "You're lying, Snape, you've got some scheme on, some scheme to get us to help you to get rid of Voldemort, and then you'll double-cross us, and make yourself into the next Dark Lord."

He laughs, he can't believe what he's hearing, doesn't Moody know anything? He thinks, the Dark Mark is a chain, and I can rattle my chain but I can't break it, and he says, "Don't you know what the Dark Mark is, don't you know what it does? It's not just a tattoo, if I were to try to curse the Dark Lord, if I were to raise my hand against him, it would kill me. The Dark Lord runs no risk of disloyalty amongst his servants … he's not as trusting as Dumbledore was."

But Potter flares up again, he says, angrily, "I don't believe you, Snape, I won't believe you without proof."

He sneers, "Obviously, Potter! That's why I asked you to bring the Pensieve. What memory do you want to see – me taking the Vow with Narcissa? The conversation I had with Dumbledore when I told him of the Vow?"

But Potter wants to see the argument with Dumbledore, the argument in the Forbidden Forest, and he hesitates for a moment, he'd prefer that Potter and Moody didn't see that memory, the memory of him snivelling and begging to Dumbledore, but this is more important than his pride, so he shrugs, and says, "I'll need my wand."

Potter and Moody are clearly shaken by what they've seen in the Pensieve, they're looking slightly nauseous, as if they've just watched someone being sick, but it's done the job. Moody waves his wand, releases him from his chains, and he allows himself to relax … he'd dearly like to have his wand in his hand again, and he's about to ask for it when Potter looks at him from across the table and says, "I'm sorry."

Potter is SORRY? Sorry for what? But he looks away, he doesn't want to know what's going on in Potter's mind. He thinks, are you sorry that Dumbledore is dead? Well, I'm sorry too, but I've got a job to do, and so have you, you little bastard, you're the weapon, the only one who can kill the Dark Lord, and you'd better hurry up and do it. I don't know what the power the Dark Lord knows not is, it can't be "love", it's got to be something really deadly, and you'll be of age soon. He remembers how much stronger his own magic became once he turned seventeen and came of age, and he wonders if the power referred to in the prophecy will start to manifest itself once Potter comes of age. Whatever, he needs to wrap this up, he wants to get back to Spinner's End as soon as he can, so he sneers again, "I'm sorry, too, Potter, that I don't have any new information for you. The Dark Lord will not share his most precious secrets with me while Bellatrix Lestrange lives, and it may be a little while before an opportunity presents itself to dispose of her."

He switches his attention to Moody, he's telling them that he needs help with Draco, Draco is not cut out to be a Death Eater and the Dark Lord will kill Draco if he fails again, he has a plan to keep Draco safe, to keep his whole family safe, oh yes Narcissa and Lucius will be just fine if Draco dies a hero's death battling Aurors … but he needs Moody's assistance. He thinks, I need you now, Moody, but I won't forget that you hit me, you hit me like a filthy Muggle, I won't forget that, and I haven't forgotten the time that you broke my wand, either, it may have been sixteen years ago but I haven't forgotten ...

Moody is asking him to explain …

He curls his lip, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Potter won't have forgotten that – and Moody will know of it - the Draught of Living Death.

He goes on, "I shall bring Draco up to London for a little Muggle-baiting fun, but we shall be so unfortunate as to run into a couple of off-duty Aurors, some old comrades from the Order of the Phoenix, perhaps. Naturally, there will be a battle. I'll stun Draco, then enervate him sufficiently to slip him a dose of the Draught of Living Death. He will be presumed dead – the Killing Curse leaves no visible marks - and taken to St Mungo's. Moody, you have a very special relationship with one of the Healers there, you can make sure that he isn't examined too closely. Narcissa will be allowed to see the body only for a moment, to formally identify it as that of her son, and then he'll be buried at Azkaban. He can stay there until the war is over … better put a note about it in your will, Moody, or Draco might be stuck in a coffin for ever."

Moody shrugs, it's OK with him, they can sort the details out later, when Moody has had a chance to speak to Shacklebolt and Tonks, to speak to them very carefully and discreetly.

Potter is protesting, "Why can't Draco just join his dad in prison, why does he have to be buried alive?" Is Potter a cretin, what makes him think that Lucius will be staying in prison, now that Dumbledore is dead, now that the only wizard that the Dark Lord ever feared is dead? Oh no, Draco won't be safe in Azkaban, but he'll be safe in a wooden box underground.

Moody has caught on, he's not stupid, he's realised that the Dark Lord's next move will be to break his Death Eaters out of Azkaban.

Potter asks, "You're not going to kill any Muggles are you, that won't be necessary?"

Potter cares about Muggles? He thinks, I thought Potter hated those Muggles he lives with, Lily's bitch sister, her husband, and their lumpish son, and he remembers giving Petunia a dose of crucio, she'd practically asked for it, telling him "My freak sister isn't here, she's out with her boyfriend," how dare a Muggle insult Lily, how dare a Muggle insult a witch? He says, indifferently, "There are sixty million Muggles in Britain, there's no reason to be squeamish about two or three less."

Potter looks to Moody for support, but Moody is shaking his head. Moody at least has his head screwed on, and hopefully he'll teach Potter a few of the things he needs to know – such as to be careful when using Stupefy in confined spaces, it has a tendency to ricochet, and you can knock yourself out with your own spell …

Potter is still squeaking away, "Surely Voldemort …" and he loses his temper. "Do not say the Dark Lord's name!" he spits. "Don't you understand, Potter, this has to look good, I will have to answer to the Dark Lord for it!"

The Dark Lord will only be slightly annoyed at losing Draco, but he's got his reputation to think of, shit, if a few Muggles don't go down, he'll look like an idiot.

He's really angry now, he's hissing at Potter, "Are you afraid of the Dark Lord, Potter? Yes? But not enough. Unless you smarten up, he's going to get you one day, Potter, and I may not be there to save your skin."

He pulls a Muggle hand-gun out of a jacket pocket, tosses it on the table, and he tells Potter, "You know what this is? The Dark Lord thinks that a wizard without a wand is helpless – Moody made the same mistake today - the Dark Lord has no respect for Muggle technology. From now on, you will carry this Muggle weapon with you at all times."

It's only a little gun, almost the sort of thing American Muggle females carry in their handbags, it's not a magnum, ha ha ha, it's not Dirty Harry's favourite weapon, but that's OK, it has to be small, easily concealed in a jacket or robes, it's a weapon of last resort, Potter's last line of defence, if he's not there to protect the brat. He shows Potter how to reload it, where the safety catch is, and he tells him, it's not accurate over anything other than a short range, aim for the chest or the abdomen, we'll go into the garden and cast a Silencing Charm, and I'll teach you how to use it …

Potter says, "Not yet, I need to ask you some more questions."

He frowns, is Potter going to ask him why he became a Death Eater? Dumbledore never asked him that question, he knew the answer. He thinks, Merlin, it was nearly twenty years ago, I can't really remember, I suppose it began when Gringotts knocked me back for a job as a curse-breaker, well of course the goblins do background checks on all their applicants, they were never going to give a job to the grandson of the man who robbed them, not that I knew it at the time, I didn't find out about my mother's father until after she died …

But it isn't that, it's worse, Potter is saying, "Dumbledore told me that he trusted you because of something to do with my parents, and I want to know what it was."

He thinks, Albus, why did you have to tell him that, why did you have to tell him anything at all? He considers refusing to answer the question, but there's no avoiding it, really, and if he won't answer, Moody may become suspicious again, but he can save some scraps of his dignity. He says, "I'll answer the question but are you sure you want Moody to hear this?"

Potter looks at Moody, Moody hesitates, he knows why, Moody believes his story but he still doesn't want to leave him alone with the kid, it's a long ingrained habit of suspicion, he'd feel the same way himself, so he says, "Relax, Moody, you can keep my wand," and Moody slowly gets to his feet, and leaves the kitchen.

He leans back in his chair, and he thinks, I really need a cigarette, so he says, "Do you mind if I smoke", but it's not really a question, he lights a cigarette and he wonders how he's going to start, how he's going to tell James Potter's son that Severus Snape loved Lily Evans? He thinks about lying to the boy as he's lied to himself for twenty years, telling him that Lily was just a friend, but that won't wash, no one defies the Dark Lord for the sake of a friendship, hell, he was friends with Regulus but that hadn't prevented him from killing Regulus.

Potter is looking at him, he can't put it off any longer, even though he's writhing inside, and he thinks, keep it short and sweet, keep it brief, there's no need to go into detail, and so he says, bluntly and unemotionally, "I was in love with Lily Evans, I loved her, so when the Dark Lord decided to kill her and James, and to kill you, I went to Dumbledore," and he thinks, I'm not ashamed of loving Lily, she was one of the few good things in my life … but even so he hangs his head and avoids Potter's eye, because this is another time when he doesn't want to know what Potter is thinking.

He thinks, I've said it, I've told Potter what he wanted to know, it's over now, and he glances up to see how Potter is taking it, and the Golden Gryffindor seems to be coping, he doesn't look as if he's going to scream or cry or faint at the news that a filthy Slytherin had dared to look at his mother, and thank Merlin he hasn't reached for his wand … but Potter is asking more questions, he's asking, why didn't the Dark Lord want to kill my mother? She was a Muggle-born, the Dark Lord thinks that Muggle-borns are scum, so why did he hesitate to kill her? I heard him say to her, "Stand aside, you silly girl … stand aside, now …"

He thinks, sweet Merlin, how does the boy know that? He's really rattled, he doesn't know what to say, and he reaches up and pulls the tie out of his pony tail, shakes his head and lets his black hair flop into curtains over his face, hiding his eyes, hiding his face, hiding his thoughts. He thinks of refusing to answer the question, he thinks of lying, but this is the kind of thing that Bellatrix could use against Potter, could taunt him with, and the stupid boy has no self-control, he's easily goaded … He thinks, Potter is the Chosen One, I have to do what it takes, whatever it takes, even this, but Potter has his wand and I don't have mine, he's got the gun, too, how is he going to react when he finds out the Dark Lord was going to give Lily to me? Is this the impetus Potter needs to cast the Killing Curse? Then so be it … and he thinks, it will be quick, and it might even be painless.

He musters all the self-control he uses when he's in the presence of the Dark Lord, and he thinks, ha, I'm in the presence of my new master now, and he says, "There are worse things than death, Potter. The Dark Lord didn't want to kill your mother because he intended to do something worse to her … he intended to give her to me, as a reward for bringing him the first part of the prophecy," but he can't stop his voice from cracking, because it is painful to have to think of it, and it is shameful to have to speak of it. He remembers the long hours alone with Lily in the dungeons, late at night, babysitting some of Slughorn's more temperamental elixirs, she'd fall asleep sometimes, with her head on his shoulder, and he could smell her hair. He'd think, James must have had her, and his jealousy and desire were almost uncontrollable, he was stronger than her, physically and magically, it would have been so easy … and he could obliviate her afterwards, he knew the spell, but he wanted it to be different with Lily, something special, not just sex, and he couldn't hurt her, she trusted him, so he'd think, James and Lily are goody-goody Gryffindors, they're saving themselves for marriage.

And he remembers a fragment of the Muggle marriage service, with my body I thee worship, and he realises, I wanted to marry Lily, not to violate her. Oh, his heart had leapt with hope and joy and then sunk in shame and despair when the Dark Lord promised him Lily Potter as his reward for bringing the prophecy, when the Dark Lord said, "I see that you're … attracted … to the Mudblood witch. You can have her when I've killed Potter and the boy," when he'd realised what that meant, a Memory Charm strong enough to obliterate Lily's memories of James and the baby, leaving her an empty shell, it would be worse than killing her, nearly as bad as a Dementor's Kiss, she'd be just a body to use.

He lurks behind his greasy hair, and he braces himself for Potter's anger and disgust, as he had braced himself for Dumbledore's anger and disgust, the day that he went to him, begged him to save Lily, and showed him the Dark Mark, the Mark of the master he'd sworn to leave for ever.

But Potter doesn't seem angry, he's asking him, what if the Dark Lord had chosen Neville? What if he had chosen the Longbottom boy? And he thinks, as if I haven't asked myself that question a thousand times! He wonders, what would I have done when I realised that the Dark Mark isn't a badge of honour, it's the brand of a serf? Would I have rebelled, as Regulus did? But he's sick of these questions, he's sick of being tormented, so he snaps at Potter, "Yes! No! I don't know, Potter, I don't know, why are you tormenting me like this? Isn't it enough that I've been paying for my mistakes for nearly seventeen years? That I'll keep paying for the rest of my life?"

Damn Potter, why did he have to mention the Longbottoms, why did Potter have to make him remember the fantasy that he's dreamed of a thousand times? The fantasy that the Dark Lord chose the Longbottom boy, that the Dark Lord never went to Godric's Hollow, the fantasy that Lily might have been widowed in the war, and she would have needed a powerful protector, an old friend who really cared for her, and if she could not be in love with him, she might have come to love him, if he was gentle and persistent … and he thinks, that is another lie I told myself, because even if the Dark Lord hadn't ordered her to be killed just because she was Muggle-born, she would have never looked at me, not when she knew what I was. Lily didn't love me, but she was kind to me, so I made myself disgusting to her, and I've been doing the same thing for twenty years, I've made myself disgusting to everyone who has tried to be kind to me, I drove every single one of them away, every one of them, except Albus, and I miss Albus, I miss him so much, I loved him, too, I loved Albus and Lily and now they're both dead, I killed both of them …

Potter is telling him that he understands, and suddenly it comes bursting out, another truth that he's kept from himself for twenty years, "You don't understand anything, Potter, why do you think I became a Death Eater? Oh, there were a lot of reasons, but one reason was to hurt Lily, to hurt her because she had to believe the best of everyone, even of me, and the Dark Lord gave me the opportunity to act on my cruellest and most violent impulses."

He looks into Potter's eyes and he sees pity and horror, and horror he can live with, but not pity, he can't have that, he must put a stop to that, so he snarls, "Don't think I'm spying on the Dark Lord for you because I'm a nice person, Potter, if I was a nice person I would have been sorted into Hufflepuff. Grow up, boy, you know what I've done, what I'll do again, what I'll enjoy doing … I'm spying on the Dark Lord because I hate him, and you're the only one who can destroy him, you're the Chosen One."