The Inner-Circle
The next morning Lucius fire called me to invite me to a party at Malfoy Manor. I tried to refuse, but he said it was to celebrate something important, and I had to accept. I spent the interim gathering ingredients the second potion the Dark Lord has requested, but all too soon had to set the project aside to leave for the party. I Apparated to Wiltshire Street, walked in the direction of Lucius's house and knocked on the ostentatious twelve foot tall gate with wrought iron serpents entwined in the center. The gate opened slowly by itself, I walked up the grass path leading to the manor.
The moment I entered the manor, my jaw dropped. This was not what I had expected, a gathering of the richest people of the wizarding world, but a meeting of all those in the Dark Lord's inner circle. When Lucius had said that it was an important party, he had meant it. I stopped staring and stepped forward into the room. I walked over to Lucius, who was sitting on a comfortable chair before a boardroom table. He looked up as I came towards him and smirked, "Not what you expected?"
"Why didn't tell you me that the party was a meeting of the inner circle?"
"I wouldn't have been a surprise then, would it?"
Just then, Voldemort entered from an adjoining room and everyone rose. As he took his seat, he gave me a look that said many things, but most importantly of all it said, You did well.
"As you can see, we have a new member this evening, and he really does deserve this honor. As you already know, Severus here identified and captured the spy who has been giving the Order of the Phoenix inside information about us. The Order had been planning to attack our meeting in the graveyard yesterday, but they never got the chance thanks, again, to Severus."
"Thank you, master," was I all I could manage to say.
"We hereby invite you to join the inner circle of the Death Eaters. Do you accept?"
"Yes."
"I watched you as you fought your way up through the Death Eater ranks. I have seen that you give everything you have to finish every mission you have been given, just as every Death Eater under my command is expected to do. I liked you from the start, your ambition, and how you led your men, but what made you really stand out, was your Slytherin qualities: ambition, cunning…hatred." He looked around and spoke to everyone in general.
"I want all of you to be ruthless now, to kill anyone and everyone that opposes you. Now we are in open war against both the magical and Muggle worlds. We must not give up, and every mission from now on is crucial to our success. My friends, we are closer than ever to winning this war, and we will not be discouraged by Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix."
A cheer went up in the crowd, and I joined in. I had never dreamed to see the Dark Lord as amiable and intimate with his followers as he was with those of the inner circle.
After the Dark Lord departed, the Death Eaters began to disperse, stopping to great me as they left. Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan, Rookwood, Crouch (I couldn't believe that a man in position to become the next Minister of Magic had a Death Eater son), Avery, Macnair, Dolohov, Neiil and Quadling. If I ever had to repeat that list of names in the future, I thought, smiling to myself, I would have to add one more name — Severus Snape.
----
Three months later, in a remote Muggle village.
"Come on, Snape, whip the boy raw!"
I drew my wand back without hesitating and swung it as if brandishing a whip. The small Muggle boy flew two feet into the air and landed in a puddle of his own mother's blood, curling into a protective ball and crying. His father shouted, "What kind of fucking coward are you to hit an innocent child? How do you kill a defenseless woman, you fucking bastard? Don't you have a fucking conscious? I gave him a cold look and spat in his face. "No. I'm a Death Eater," I replied, and killed the man in cold blood. I practiced whipping technique on the boy until he died three hours from shock and pain.
----
Six months later on the outskirts of Hogsmead.
The sobbing child was spread eagle on the floor, tied by invisible ropes. I had wanted to cause as much pain as possible, but seeing the silent tears was too much even for me to take. I could only put three curses on him before I had to kill him painlessly while the others were not watching. That night I had a nightmare about all those I had killed coming after me to take revenge. They'd ripped me to pieces.
----
Two months later.
It had gone on for months - the nightmares. First I had ignored them, telling myself that they couldn't hurt me, but every time I killed, one more face joined the others as they come after me night after night. They were turning into a veritable horde — the victims of Severus Snape.
----
One day later.
After I had joined the inner circle, I had killed just like Lucius killed, for sport and for pleasure. I had killed to get the praise of the Dark Lord, and that is exactly what I got. I gained more powers, and I used them on my hunts and raids. Rare were the times when we did not complete a mission.
However, those days were over. I could now barely speak any of the Unforgivables. Every time I was commanded to kill or to torture, I couldn't do it, and arranged for others to do it, or if pressed, killed my victims as fast and painlessly as possible. The Dark Lord had been very happy when the two potions I brewed for him were completed, and he praised me even more, giving me more responsibility than any other, and teaching me more than anyone else. Nevertheless, it was still hard for my to kill, and it did not take long for everyone to notice my reluctance. I knew I was in danger of loosing everything I'd fought so hard to achieve, and I forced myself to start killing again.
----
A few weeks later in a Muggle city.
The woman was screaming as she watched her daughter being tortured right before her eyes. I watched in utter helplessness as the Death Eaters put curse upon curse on the naked teen lying on the blood-smattered road. She died when they cut her throat; her mother was half-dead by the time it happened. It was my job to kill the mother, and I had to—reluctantly—torture her, mercilessly, under Bellatrix's watchful eyes. By the end of that day, we had destroyed a city and wiped out its entire population.
----
Dijon, France, a Muggle city. One month later.
The Dark Lord's ultimate goal was finally becoming clear to the public — world domination. We were ordered to attack Dijon, and attack it we did. The city, once beautiful, lay in ruins when the Death Eaters left it. France joined in the hunt for Voldemort, and Russia, Germany and Poland soon followed.
That day I saw a girl and I was unfortunate enough to be the one to kill her. The girl had fiery red hair and bluish green eyes, which reminded me of Lily's. I would have been unable to harm her, but the memory of Lily, pregnant by Potter, gave me enough anger to fuel my curses. More than enough. When I left that girl, she did not resemble anything, only a smoking pile of ash and bones.
That night I had another dream, in which the girl was Lily, and I was going to kill her, but Lily suddenly snatched my wand and cut my throat. I watched myself die slowly.
----
Bulgaria, three weeks later.
I killed a pregnant woman with red hair. I had not meant to. I'd aimed the curse at a Muggle law enforcement officer, but he jumped aside, and she got the curse full in the chest. I was staring down at her in stunned shock, when the Bulgarian Aurors called Rhömâtulà (which meant, Red Dragons) struck, far faster and more deadly than our British Aurors. We were sorely outnumbered and forced to flee. Lucius had to grab me and Apparate, for I just stood there looking at the pregnant woman lying dead at my feet.
That night changed my life.
----
One week later. Spinners End.
I could not look at my own face. I destroyed every mirror in my house, afraid of what I might see if I looked in the mirror.
One day after a long, fierce battle with the Aurors, I came back home, tired to the core, only to see a full-length mirror in my hallway — a present from Lucius, as I later found out. I stared numbly at my reflection, refusing to accept what I saw in front of me. The face, twisted from all the evil it had seen and done, was barely human. The hands were claws, scarred from all the lives they had been taken, blackened by the curses they had cast, and twisted from all the potions made, not to help, but to hurt. But they eyes were the worst, deep in their dark sockets, they looked back at me, the eyes of a murderer, a torturer, a killer, dead and utterly evil.
In my heart, I knew that mine was a debt too great for hope of repayment. There is no way to amend for destroying a life, I repeated to myself. The dead do not value your remorse
Behind my reflection, I saw all the poor souls whom I'd killed, dripping with blood, yet strong enough to point their bloody fingers at their murderer, nodding their heads as if agreeing on some unanimous decision.
I retreated and felt my back hit the wall, and before I could stop myself, I pointed my wand at the mirror and thought, "Diffindo." The mirror imploded and then exploded, sending glass and wood everywhere like shrapnel. I was too overcome with grief and shock to even block the incoming glass as it hit me full force. I covered my face, but the faces of the dead swept in front of my eyes. The faces of my victims, the pleading eyes, their hoarse voices begging for mercy ... All these things accosted me each time I looked into my own eyes. I lowered my hands and looked at them; they were covered in blood. My blood looked no different than the blood a Muggle or a Mudblood shed when I killed them, but still I called myself superior. It was laughable. I was a half-blood; the blood of a Muggle polluted mine, yet I chosen to forget it. Even Muggleborns were superior to me. They were innocent, while I had no honor, no decency left in me. This was not what I had wanted when I received my Dark Mark. I had hoped for gratification, pleasure, and fulfillment.Yet here I was, unable to look myself in the eye. Joining the inner circle brought me no power. As I sat there on the glass-covered floor, bleeding and mourning, I realized that it was my twenty first birthday.
----
Scotland, dark cave.
The inner circle met once again to discuss some important mission. I did not listen to most of it, but when Hogwarts, I had to listen.
"We must breach the Order of the Phoenix, and according to the rumors, you have to be a friend of Dumbledore or trusted by him to join it. The only person who has qualification to be a teacher in the inner circle is Severus,"
"Me? …uh…Thank you, My Lord." I was shocked. I had no idea how I was supposed to go to Dumbledore and get a job. I told this to Lucius.
"What should I do, turn in an application. When I'm sure he'll kill me on the spot?"
"You'll come up with something, Severus. You always do."
"Like follow him around the world?" I sneered.
"I suppose that would be a start," was all Lucius said before he Dissaparated to his comfortable Manor.
I walked round and round, trying to come up with a plan to get into Hogwarts, but came up with nothing better than trying to follow Albus Dumbledore.