Chapter Three

After he had checked on some new prisoners, Voldemort settled into an armchair and watched the peacefully sleeping man thoughtfully. Severus lied on his back with his face turned to the Dark Lord and his left hand resting on the pillow close to his head. He wore his black Death Eater robe, but his sleeves had been rolled up, revealing the mark on his white forearm. Voldemort smiled proudly when he saw that no scar was marring that pale skin. Only a few people knew of his healing skills and he himself used them rarely. Healing could hardly mean power and thus it couldn't be a weapon. His weapon of choice was suffering, inflicting pain and humiliation. It meant power and this power attracted many people to his side, people who sought the same. Some, like Lucius Malfoy, were simply hungry for more and more; some needed it to protect themselves. Severus had been like that. He had wanted to assert his power over others so that they would have been hurt and not him. But in him there had always been more. He knew that suffering wasn't enough, that knowledge was more important.

"What more can you learn from Dumbledore, Severus?" asked Voldemort softly. "You need people to appreciate you and your work, that motivates you to go on, to learn more. But does Dumbledore appreciate your work? Does he permit you to study Dark Arts further? And the others on his side? Only I can give you fame and respect, dear child."

He reached out to touch Snape's temples, waking him up. Severus stirred slightly, but didn't open his eyes. Voldemort rolled his eyes and sighed. Snape had never been a morning person and to wake him up early usually required a lot of effort or patience. The Dark Lord, not an overly patient man, fought the urge to use Cruciatus, reminding himself that he wanted to gain him for his side. What a victory over Dumbledore would it be! No one, who had ever served him, could just leave him!

Instead of Cruciatus, Voldemort poked Snape into his ribs with his wand. The younger wizard swore and opened his eyes to find himself looking directly into the horrid red eyes of his captor.

"Language, Severus! Has no one taught you manners? I thought that the Malfoys did."

The Dark Lord leaned to Snape and brushed a strand of dark hair from his forehead. Severus flinched under the touch and backed away from it, glaring at Voldemort in distrust. "Do not touch me!" he hissed, looking around himself. Now that there was light, he could see what the room looked like. It was one of the chambers in the tower, the highest one in it, square, with ancient stone walls decorated by heavy green tapestries. Unless he could fly, he saw no way to get away from there without his wand.

Suddenly two white arms wrapped themselves around his waist from behind and Severus felt Voldemort pulling him closer to him. He breath brushed his neck and Snape shuddered in disgust when he heard the cold whisper in his ear,

"A teacher whom no one taught loyalty, isn't it touching? Where do your loyalties lie, Severus?""

"I have no other master but you, my Lord," replied Snape as calmly as he could.

"Tell me, dear child," spoke the Dark Lord softly, "if you could, if you had that choice, would you choose your father or Dumbledore to live?"

The deep black eyes widened at the unvoiced implications. Did that mean . . . was his father . . . impossible, he couldn't be . . . Severus shook his head as if attempting to clear his mind of such thoughts and Voldemort laughed dryly.

"Your treacherous father walked right into my arms."

The cold, calm demeanour of Snape broke like a fragile glass shattered by his anger. Something deep inside him exploded, turning his vision red as he turned to face Voldemort and struck the mocking white face of his captor. For a moment the dark wizard was looked astonished and Severus contemplated to hit him again, just to get some reaction. With his cheek stinging, Voldemort roared in fury, seized Snape's wrist and his fiery red eyes blazed up. He slammed the younger wizard to the floor who groaned quietly. Without any warning (though Snape knew what was to follow) except a slight movement of Dark Lord's wand and whispered "Crucio!", a wave of pain flooded his body. Snape clapped a shaking hand to his mouth and breathed hard through his nose, trying to keep silent.

Another wave of wand intensified the pain and Snape screamed, shutting his eyes tight. Voldemort smiled as he watched him struggling to get air into his lungs, which issued again in deep groans he couldn't hold back. The man had surprised him, he had never seen him attack anyone physically. How had he dared to hit him? He lifted the curse and knelt down, embracing the cold, shaking body of Snape. He looked closely into his dark eyes and checked his pulse, smiling gently.

"Why do you force me to hurt you, dear child?" asked Voldemort sadly, tenderly caressing Snape's pale cheek. "All I want is to talk to you, but you seek to anger me."

Snape's face was full of hatred when he glared at Voldemort. "I curse you!" he whispered, looking up at him in fury. "What the hell do you want from me? Why don't you kill me? Have you gone soft in your old age?"

Snape watched with satisfaction how the white cheeks of Voldemort reddened. He knew he was playing with fire, but Dark Lord's anger and curses and more bearable than his touches and mind games. All of a sudden, Voldemort hit him so hard he could literary see stars and while his head was spinning, he pinned him to the ground, squeezing his throat. Severus tried to get those claws off his neck and kick him away, struggling under Dark Lord's body. Sitting back, Voldemort pressed his wand to Snape's chest.

"Hands up!" he ordered and Severus slowly let his hands fall to the ground, moving them over his head.

"Are you aware of what I might do to you or your father?"

Severus nodded, beginning to feel fear replacing his anger. Voldemort's lips curled up in a sneering smile when he sensed it and slowly his wand started to trace the younger wizard's side of face and neck, delighting in a slight tremble that went through his body. Everyone feared him, even his Death Eaters, everyone except Dumbledore.

"If I decide to kill you . . ."

The wand's pressure on Snape's neck intensified. He did fear him.

" . . . I won't do it quickly."

The wand moved to Snape's heart.

"However . . ."

The Dark Lord's face came inches from Severus's who had closed his eyes.

"You might be useful to me."

His lips touched Severus's forehead.

"And . . ."

He kissed him lightly, fatherly.

"You're drawn to me. And therefore . . ."

He stood up, roughly pulled Snape to his feet and led him to a pair of armchairs. They sat down, facing each other.

"And therefore I would advise you not to provoke me. And stop lying to me, Severus. This is the time for truth telling. Remember that Quin is in my captivity."

Snape studied his face wordlessly, an expression of mild curiosity having settled on his face and a strange melancholy in his eyes.

"I take it that whatever I say, you'll still think of me as of a spy, master," said Severus quietly.

"No, dear child," corrected him Voldemort. "I know that you're a spy."

"But you don't want to kill me. Why would you forgive me? You'll never trust me."

Framing Severus's face in his cold hands, Voldemort brought him closer. "Open your mind to me."

"My mind isn't guarded, master."

"I told you to open your mind, not your mouth!" hissed the Dark Lord impatiently. "There's one memory I want to see right now before we continue. Legillimens!"

The glowing red eyes penetrated Snape's mind who let them see anything he thought safe to be seen. To his surprise, the Dark Lord went further, ignoring the memories of present, going far into the past. Severus repelled him and looked at him with his eyebrow raised in question.

"May I inquire as to what precisely are you looking for?"

He wanted to turn away, but Voldemort held his face tightly.

"Just one memory, dear child, you'll see. Let me in."

Severus let him see more 'safe' memories of his early adulthood when suddenly the Dark Lord found what he had been looking for . . .

. . . he was 25, half a year before Dark Lord's fall, standing in a forest and smiling coldly at a man piteously begging at his feet. He was pleading with him not to kill him, that he had a wife and a child. His bloodied body trembled in mortal fear, then froze when a flash of green light hit his square in the chest . . .

Snape gasped, turned away, and rested his forehead on his hand. Voldemort's lips almost touched his ear when he whispered, "You were a spy at that moment and yet you killed that man. And . . ." his bony finger lifted Snape's chin, forcing him to look at him. "And you enjoyed it, my precious child."

There was no answer but a frown from Snape.

"It doesn't matter who your master is, Severus. You haven't changed. You use the same means for both the light and dark side. If I were to tell you to cast Cruciatus on someone, you'd do it to keep your cover. And Neville Longbottom would tell us tales about what a sadistic, cruel teacher you are. You abuse your position, the power you have over your students. It is a wonder that Dumbledore lets you teach. And you want to persuade me that you're a light wizard, that you dark side's gone? You're no good man, Severus."

Severus stood up and began to pace slowly to and fro, thinking. There was a remarkable grace in his movements, which had impressed Voldemort long ago. Even when he just thrust a hand into his pocket, the gesture was elegant, though he was most elegant when killing. "You mean to tell me," he said, stopping in front of the Dark Lord, "to persuade me to be at your side and you want to use my father to ensure my loyalty? My Lord, I have to disappoint you. I have no one whom I would call a father."

'Harry's more like a son to me!'

With a smile Voldemort took Snape's hand. "No one? Shall we see, Severus? Come, come with me and persuade me that you're telling me the truth."

§§

Author's note: I couldn't up-dated this earlier, I was in pain lately, my back was killing me. Fortunately it's much better today after a rest and some medicine. For all those who asked – no, this story is not a slash story. What Voldemort is doing is only a bit of acting and playing with Snape's mind, he wants to make him nervous and uncomfortable, that's all. However, he doesn't always have patience for this game . . .

A huge thanks to all my reviewers, you're amazing! Big hugs to all of you! I'll try to up-date this every week, okay:-)