Chapter Thirteen

Many things had Peter Pettigrew experienced in his life, but that the Dark Lord would forgive Snape's betrayal – who would have thought that possible? It was he, who had helped in his rebirth, had sacrificed his hand, had obeyed every command and yet no more was he but a servant and someone Snape could test his potions on. And evil potions had they been, causing him unbearable pain – peeling away his skin or burning deep down into his bones – and that cold bastard Snape… Snape had watched him in that unmoved, detached way of a scientist, taking notes and smiling to himself in satisfaction. Clearly torturing him was far more satisfying that torturing students. Snape had laughed at him, had been delighted by the choice of his 'experimental rabbit'.

Now the Dark Lord was sprawled on a sofa, letting Bellatrix, who looked very proud of herself, massaging his head and shoulders. Snape, that sadistic beast, was seated in an armchair and reading letters to the Dark Lord. He, Peter, as usually, was excluded from their noble little company and degraded into the position of a mere servant. Cursing the greasy-haired sadist in his mind, he put a fresh cup of tea on the table next to Snape, imagining it to be a deadly poison that would cause the git to die a painful death, choking on his bile. Snape irked an eyebrow at him and smirked unpleasantly, enjoying himself enormously when Pettigrew was serving him.

Voldemort smiled, observing the wordless exchange between Wormtail and Snape with amusement. Severus, who had reminded him of a tortured ghost upon his return, was now practically gleaming. Was he aware of how much of himself he was losing to him? The bond was working amazingly well. Not only did he feel every tiny emotion of his, but Severus trusted and needed him, he had no one else left and now he seemed to be accepting him. "Bella told me that your 'liquid Cruciatus' is a success," he said to him and immediately felt Severus's pride mixed with fading guilt and saw Wormtail flinch.

The Potions Master saw Pettigrew's involuntary flinch too and it brought a light smile to his face. "Yes, master," he replied quietly while his black eyes regarded his former school-mate coldly, "We have successfully tested it today and I dare say that it's more powerful than Bella's Cruciatus, but it doesn't destroy one's mind. However," he smirked, not taking his eyes off Peter, "using the rat's brain, these results are questionable. To call a test truly successful, it should be tested on someone who actually has a brain. I wonder why you haven't yet replaced him for a higher form of existence."

Voldemort chuckled softly and smiled, sending shivers down Wormtail's spine. "He's a fine servant, you wouldn't believe. But continue reading, dear child."

Severus reached into a pile of parchments and unfolded one scroll. He recognised the elegant, decorated handwriting at once even though it was somewhat rushed and for a moment his heart stilled while his eyes quickly moved down to the signature. Voldemort saw him pale considerably and he frowned.

"Who is it from?"

"L-Lucius… but… how?"

Confused, Severus raised his eyes to the Dark Lord's who tensed under Bellatrix's fingers. "My spies are everywhere, of course, and Lucius too has his connections, don't be so surprised. Now read!" he ordered.

"My master," obliged Snape, willing his hear-beat to slow, "I have no words for expressing my sorrows for not being strong enough. I have failed…" Severus's hand began to tremble slightly, "I was weak, but S-Severus is… is very dear to me and I… I was so afraid, I wanted to…" Severus's voice broke, but he read on, "to protect him… Dumbledore…" he breathed out, almost inaudibly.

"WHAT?" roared Voldemort and Snape dropped the letter, his hands shaking violently. Dumbledore… Had he visited Lucius? What for? Could it be that… that… he cared? Something tightened in Severus's chest, a tiny little hope rising from ashes like a phoenix. But Dumbledore… he had seen him angry and disappointed in the pensieve. He wanted to look at the letter again, but Voldemort had snatched it from the ground and was now pacing back and forth, rage radiating from him in great waves.

Severus is very dear to me… The more Snape thought of it, the angrier Voldemort appeared to be, his fist clenching and unclenching.

"Bella!" he yelled suddenly, "That brainless, narcissistic husband of your sister has betrayed our hiding places to the Ministry! We must attack first! Bring me Lucius alive so I can personally skin him!"

Then he whirled over to Snape who was staring at him wide-eyed and puzzled. In another surge of anger, he yanked his hair and slammed him onto the floor. Wormtail gasped and fled the room, following Bellatrix – both happy not to be the ones on whom the Dark Lord would release his anger.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO LUCIUS, SNAPE?" roared Voldemort and hit the younger wizard hard. "This is your doing, how come that he would betray me, his lord?"

Severus was watching the Dark Lord from the floor, fearing that the throbbing vein on his ghastly white forehead may explode in anger any time. The hand with the spidery fingers didn't let go of his hair, pulling at the roots as Voldemort knelt down to him.

"You've made a traitor out of him too!" he hissed and stood up abruptly, pulling Severus to his feet too.

"No, my lord, I…" protested Snape.

"Silence!" shouted Voldemort and Snape flinched. A long thin finger touched his chin, bringing his face closer so that their noses were almost touching. Voldemort lowered his voice to a venomous whisper, "Lucius cares for you and so you do, but I'll not tolerate such weakness in my ranks. You understand why I have to punish you."

Severus nodded. A sly smile spread through Voldemort's lips as a whisper left his mouth and Snape's eyes widened when he recognised the dark curse. The tip of Dark Lord's wand touched Snape's wrist who screamed when the bones there snapped. He wanted to back away, but the hand in his hair prevented it, holding him in a painful grip. "Do not close your eyes, Severus," said Voldemort softly and watched how the dark eyes looked into his, "I love seeing your hurting, I enjoy it. And you know you…" his voice rose again, "deserve it!"

Again he hit him and threw him against the wall. "No!" cried out Snape, wiping blood from his forehead, "You're killing me, your anger hurts me!"

"Does it now?" laughed Voldemort icily and his hand rose for another hit. Snape dodged and the fist punched the wall. The impact brought a yell of wrath from the Dark Lord and a shudder from Snape who backed to avoid his clenched fists.

"You ungrateful wretch!" shouted Voldemort at the retreating Potions Master. He was backing away from the room with each step Voldemort took, trembling in the invisible cloud of rage covering him. 'Don't be so angry,' he pleaded in his mind, 'Don't you know that I can't bear your anger? It's like knives stabbing me right into my heart!'

"Do you really think that Dumbledore cares for you?" asked Voldemort menacingly, "No, dear child, he doesn't. He didn't talk with Lucius about you. Lucius betrayed us to the Ministry, not to Dumbledore."

"But… he mentioned him…"

The hope in Severus's voice fuelled Voldemort's anger even more. "I didn't think you so naive," he laughed, slowly advancing on Snape who kept backing from him and out of the room.

No, of course not, why should Dumbledore care about the man who had betrayed him and had thrown away his second chance? He would have already done something… But the Dark Lord's fury wasn't fading; it held his heard in a painful grip, killing him slowly.

"Please, stop it…" he whispered faintly, and gasped as he was seized roughly, Voldemort shaking him violently. Severus continued looking into the red eyes, ignoring the shaking and yelling as much as he could, feeling the anger washing through every cell of his being and suddenly those hands were gone and he took another step back… back into nothingness and he was falling and falling…

"Severus!"

Voldemort's reflexes weren't fast enough to catch Snape and the Potions Master fell down the staircase, landing down unmoving, no sound coming from him. At the noise Bellatrix, Wormtail and Arenwald rushed in, stopping at the unconscious form of Snape. Startled, they watched their master pale as if he were ill; he had seated himself on the top stair. With a frown Arenwald knelt down to Snape and searched for his pulse.

"He's breathing," he announced, brushing away dark strands of hair to reveal Snape's pale face, "He must have hit himself, but he doesn't seem to have anything broken except…"

The vampire took Snape's hand into his, careful not to hurt him even more. "Except his hand," he finished.

"That is alright," spoke Voldemort, "You take care of him, Bella will go to the Ministry. Don't forget that I want Lucius alive! You can kill everyone else, but not the Order members – capture them. Understood? Now get out of my sight, all of you!"

They scattered quickly – Bellatrix rushing off to gather the Death Eaters, Arenwald and Pettigrew carrying Snape away. Voldemort's blood-red eyes followed the unconscious form of 'his child'.

"The end is near, dear Severus," he laughed quietly.

§§

It was long past visiting hours and the Ministry prison was quiet and peaceful, the few prisoners being asleep in their cots. Lucius Malfoy sat at a table with his head buried in his hands. For hours he had been sitting like that, observed by Remus Lupin hidden under the Invisibility Cloak. Sometimes he sobbed quietly, sometimes he stared at the wall opposite him, and sometimes he just sat there. With his keen senses, Lupin could smell the scent of fear in the air and guilt and despair – all that mixed with a generous amount of self-pity.

'You're such a bastard, Malfoy,' thought Remus, grateful that they had Kingsley among the Aurors. The man had always disgusted him – arrogant, inbred bastard who thought himself above everyone. How come that Severus liked him? Okay, cousins and family… but as far as he remembered, Snape liked no one – except his father and Lucius – what made Malfoy so special?

He was brought out of his reverie by the sound of magical alarm. What had happened? Malfoy too lifted his blond head in confusion. Remus whipped out his wand and in terror watched the place being filled by dark-hooded Death Eaters, attacking the guards and heading straight to him. He knew he had no chance on his own but there were the prison guards and they were outnumbered, he had to help. He threw away his cloak and joined the fighting, wonder how he should alert the Order. After all, if the Death Eaters were here and the Order had gone to save Snape, that's not so bad a situation – for the Order.

"Filthy half-bred!" shrieked a female Death Eater, Lestrange, no doubt. She marched up to him and Remus felt anger boiling in his veins, remembering Sirius's death.

"Still crying after my stupid little cousin?" she mocked him. He was about to cast a spell when something hit him hard from behind and he sank into darkness.

§§

To be continued…

A/N: We have a public holiday today, so I thought why not update the story when I have time? November 17th - that's when Communists fell. And Mervyn Peake died on this day (author of the Gormenghast trilogy). We're getting to the end of part 1 soon, very soon – one or two chapters, I'll see. Thank you very much for your reviews. :-)