Chapter Two

The first thing Severus could feel after having apparated to the Dark Lord was warmth. It enveloped him unexpectedly, confusing him. Death Eater meetings were most often held outside, under the night sky in dark cemeteries or old manors. Surprised, Severus's onyx eyes wandered around the spacious room. Why, this was the Lestranges' lavish living room in their castle! There he was in his black Death Eater robes and mask, summoned and yet alone. Dumbledore's worried face flashed in his mind as he had seen him grab his mask and leave. His sky blue eyes had followed him for as long as he hadn't disapparated. Snape pushed the memory back, clearing his mind and awaiting the Dark Lord's arrival. At that precise moment the well-known, icy inhuman voice spoke, "Have a seat, Severus."

From a shadow Lord Voldemort emerged, whole his countenance ghastly in the dying light coming from a fireplace. Snape kept a calm demeanour on the outside, though deep inside he shuddered at the sight, all his wounds screaming in terror. Power radiating from him was enormous, stronger and stronger by every passing day. As he approached him, Snape bowed his head politely. The dark wizard sat right next to him on a sofa, his skeletal fingers reaching out to the younger man's face. Even through the mask Severus could feel their chilliness. Tenderly, almost affectionately, Voldemort drew his hood back and pulled off his mask, soothing back the long ebony hair. His fingers traced Severus's cheeks and slowly turned his face to him.

"Look at me," came the command accompanied by a smile. Hesitating, as if wanting to postpone that moment, Snape's eyes rose to meet those of the Dark Lord. Colourless they were, only blood shone in them, blood of innocent Muggles, children and light wizards, murdered. One could die from simply looking into that never-ending sea of agony. However, the smile hadn't reached his eyes and Severus noticed a strange melancholy in them.

"There's a traitor among my ranks," spoke Voldemort hoarsely, his fingers caressing Snape's pale cheeks.

The Potions Master remained calm on the outside. If he had been suspected, he would have already been screaming somewhere else under Cruciatus Curse. Voldemort wouldn't been talking to him, unless . . . Studying his face closer made Severus cringe a bit. He was beginning to look better, less snake-like, some of his former handsome features and diabolical charm returning. Not good, not good, he was coming to his full powers, possibly acquiring more. And he could be toying with him or fooling him. Severus had never been fond of physical touch, rarely allowing someone to close and Voldemort was now in his personal space, touching him, making him nervous. Whatever his plans were, he knew he wouldn't like them.

"Whom would you suspect, Severus? I believe it has to be someone brave or foolish."

Voldemort's voice changed to a pleasant one, puzzling the already confused spy all the more.

"As far as I know, my Lord, we have no foolish Griffindor among us," replied Snape, forcing his voice into a polite tone. Voldemort's lips curled up in a smile again.

"No, Severus, a Griffindor would be loyal, at least most of them are, we will leave Pettigrew out of this. Brave or foolish, it's actually quite the same, do you agree?"

Snape nodded, wondering where this conversation was leading, and fighting his dark premonitions.

"And it must be someone clever or someone thinking to be clever enough to fool me. Someone with a mind of his own."

Voldemort's silken voice dropped to a whisper and Snape shivered when his hand went to his neck.

"Why do you tremble, Severus?" he breathed out as his chalk white face leaned closer to Snape's, "Tell Lord Voldemort."

"Your presence is overwhelming," whispered Severus, painfully aware of the cold fingers brushing his neck. He was too close. 'Get those hands off me! Let me be!'

"My presence makes you uncomfortable. It that so, dear child? My touches make you nervous, I'm too close, far too close," went on the now alluring voice, while the thin fingers caressed Snape's neck and cheek, "You never let anyone this close, you cannot bear physical contact. You need your space. Your very own space."

Snape bit his lower lip nervously. What were the Dark Lord's intentions? He fought hard not to flinch under his skeletal fingers, but couldn't help himself not to stiffen. Those touched would drive him mad. He felt his heart beat wildly, blood loud in his ears. 'Do not touch me!'

"You're different to my other Death Eaters. You need your own space. You have your own brain. You think on your own. You're an individualist. And . . . you see blood on my hands."

The whisper died away and Severus watched how Voldemort's hands enclosed his, tracing his long thin fingers. It was almost unreal that the Dark Lord's fingers were even thinner, longer and whiter than his were. Ghostly horrible.

"You, Severus, see blood on my hands and you question my actions. To question them means to think."

Voldemort held Severus's wrist tightly, preventing him to take his hand back. He pressed his fingertips to Snape's, forcing his fingers downward and out, measuring their hands. The spy trembled slightly and frowned, hoping this private meeting wouldn't cost his life.

"However," whispered the Dark Lord softly, "I see blood on your hands too, precious child."

Severus snatched his hand away and thrust it behind his back, lowering his eyes. Dark Lord's laughter echoed in his ears. He closed his eyes, desperately wishing that the mocking laughter would stop. I see blood on your hands too. Voldemort's hands moved back to his face and hair.

"Do you think that I have no idea who the traitor is? Dumbledore and Lupin came to save you, I know that. I bet you wonder why haven't I killed or tortured you right after you apparated?"

Still frowning, Snape raises his eyes to those of his master. "My Lord," he said, bringing out his acting skills to pretend that he was hurt by his words, "I would die for you, I would never betray you. Never!"

The Dark Lord said nothing. His dreadful red eyes bore into Snape's seeking the truth while his hands caressed his cheeks. Severus shuddered in disgust, desperate to get away from the unwelcomed touches. He was beginning to feel dizzy, his head spinning and wounds aching. When would they finally heal?

"Your mind doesn't betray you," hissed Voldemort, disappointed by his probing on Snape's guarded mind, "but I know you're a liar. What do you think, why am I not torturing you? Tell me, Severus."

"I do not know, master," replied Snape quietly.

"Because I know you, dear child."

The Potions Master's eyebrow rose a bit in puzzlement. Why was he toying with him? Was it some interlude to torture, a cruel game? Tenderly, Voldemort's thumb brushed his cheek, his lips and finally his eyelashes as if wanting to memorise his features. On a sudden impulse, Severus reached out and touched his white cheek. Warm, not icy like his fingers, the skin was human. The Dark Lord smiled,

"We're tearing you apart, me and that old fool. You're balancing between darkness and light. And you, Severus, are tempted by the dark."

At those words Severus jumped from his seat, away from Dark Lord's touches. He would never betray Albus Dumbledore! Voldemort watched with amusement the retreating younger man, who backed from him in obvious horror. 'Have I touched the nerve, Severus?' he thought and leaned back leisurely.

Severus whipped out his wand. "Leave me alone!" he hissed venomously.

"You don't want to kill me, Severus. You would have done it already. Besides, you can't kill me."

A sneer appeared on Snape's pale lips. "Really?" he smirked and was about to cast some dark curse at the older wizard when another curse hit him from behind, knocking him to the ground as all his wounds began to burn. He gasped when the white-hot pain enveloped his body and heard Voldemort yell,

"Bloody woman! I told you not to hurt him! Was I speaking trollish that you didn't understand me? Be gone from my sight, Bella!"

Bellatrix Lestrange pouted, but without any words she left the room with her head bowed. To Severus's astonishment, Voldemort pulled him to stand up and supporting him, he led him upstairs to a tower where he laid him down onto a bed. More surprises followed when he started to remove his outer robes, slowly and carefully so as not to hurt him anymore. Severus flinched uncomfortably under his touches, trying to escape them, but the cold hands stilled him. The Dark Lord took his arm, removed the bandages, put his hand over the cuts and whispered an incantation. The wounds closed and healed, leaving no traces. "Only the one who inflicted them can heal them properly," he explained to Snape and proceeded to the other arm. "Tell me, Severus, why do you serve people who don't trust you and respect you?" he asked conversationally. "Do you like all those mudbloods, half-bloods and half-breds?"

"I serve only you, master," replied Snape, beginning to relax under the healing touches. He hadn't known that such a dark wizard like Voldemort had the healing power. How odd to see his hands healing and not punishing!

"Severus, Severus," sighed Voldemort deeply, "You yielded to the darkness once and you'll yield again. How can you resist? It's inside your heart. You have always been a child of darkness and as I'm the lord of darkness, you belong to me. But sleep now, my dark child, I need you to be strong."

He touched Snape's forehead lightly and despite the Potions Master's brief struggle, he put him to sleep.

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T.B.C.

Author's notes: I wrote this some months ago for another story, but I thought I could combine that story with this one and see what comes out of it. This actual part "walked" into my mind during a journey to my university. I always try to do something in train. You're all wonderful! Thank you very much for your reviews!

Thank you very much and keep reviewing, your suggestions help me a lot. The next chapter is written too, but needs some revision, so I don't know when I'll put it online.