Bitterly Unrequited

Chapter 4 - The Dark Lord's Command

Spoilers and warnings: This story is full of OotP and HBP spoilers. Just to let you know. This story is very angsty and quite dark, and it does contain suicide attempts, self-abuse, and eventually murder. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, etc. No profit is made, and so on...

A/N: Please review this chapter, especially...it would mean a lot to me. This chapter was difficult to write and gave me a few headaches, but please tell me how you think it works.

"My Lord, I have brought your new servant to you."

Lucius was down on his knee before the chair, which was facing the fireplace. "A new recruit?" asked a voice, cold and high.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Come here," said the voice, summoning Snape. He stepped hesistantly, and bowed on his knees before the armchair were Lucius Malfoy had been only minutes ago, and looked up at his new master...

The Dark Lord was a tall and slender man. His hair was dark, his eyes a glowing green, and his skin pale. He was perhaps thirty or forty years old, as a rough estimate, but his age was really rather vague - he seemed indefinite in age, without any true beginning or end. He radiated immediate severity, coldness, confidence, and power. His eyes were boring into Severus's, and he could feel the man's eyes on his very thoughts and memories.

"What is your name?"

"Severus Snape, my Lord," he replied.

"And you will serve me." It was not, in any way, a question.

"Yes, my Lord."

He was looking at him appraisingly, a steely look in his eyes. "You will prove yourself," he commanded.

Snape's brow furrowed - how was he to do this?

Lucius, however, seemed to understand perfectly. He looked shocked and concerned, and protested softly. "My Lord...Snape is still legally underage...if he is to do this, the Ministry could catch on, and then..."

He stopped at the look of disgust on his master's face. "Silence, Malfoy. Do you think Lord Voldemort has no servants in the Ministry? No one working on my commands shall be detected by the Ministry." He turned back to Severus. "And remember this - servants of the Dark Lord do not get caught."

Snape apparated inside the poor, dust covered house. Apparating was, of course, entirely illegal for him, as well as generally dangerous, but it had not taken him long to learn. He looked around distainfully - it had been five years since he entered this house, and it had only gotten darker, messier, uglier.

He walked into the den - now covered in dust and seemingly falling apart, but his imagination reconstructed the set. Here was the desk in the corner - many a times he had crouched between it and the wall, listening to her screaming because she was unwilling to even use a simple, non-harming jinx against him...

The man in the center of the den, beating the woman senseless as Severus cried...once the woman was unconcsious, themanturned to him...

"Severus, are you crying?" he jeered, his voice cold and hateful as he laughed at his son..."How many times must I tell you, you little freak - you will not cry in front of me. Cry shows weakness. Are you weak, Severus?"

"No," the seven-year-old Severus said in breathy pants, trying to control his sobbing.

The man was staring at him, purest loathing in his eyes. "You aren't? Because it sounds like you're still crying. Are you still crying, Severus?"

Severus couldn't reply - his voice would reveal too much...

The man struck him across the face. "Listen, you freak - it's bad enough that I have a damn warlock or whatever the hell you are in my family, but I will not have you be a coward! Do you understand me? No sodding son of mine will be a coward! Are you a coward, Severus?"

"N-no..."

He hit him again, harder. The world seemed to darken..."Are you a coward, Severus?"

Severus couldn't answer...he was rocking back and forth...he would not cry...

"Are you!" bellowed the man.

Severus looked at him. "No."

The man sneered at him. "I think you are a coward..."

All the lights in the room went out, and a wind seemed to enter the room, although there was no window open. Severus was looking at his father, hatred and bitterness in his dark eyes. "Do not," he said, a small whirlwind taking control of the room as he burned with anger, "call me a coward."

Snape brushed the thought away. He turned around, looked at the old couch in front of the television. There he sat, looking older, fatter and drunker than he ever had before. He held a beer bottle in his hand, and sneered up at his son. Severus was staring at his father with a strange gleam in his eyes. "I thought I told you five years ago never to come into this house ever again, boy," said Tobias Snape.

Severus laughed coldly and mirthlessly, his lip curling. "Actually, I believe I left."

The man's sneer had left his face - now there was mere hatred in his eyes. "Look at you...poofing in and outta the room...gross hair all long and in your face...wearing your lovely dress like all the rest of your freak sort...your mother would be so proud if she was alive to see you..."

The boy paled, staring at the man.

"Please," she pleaded, sending herself into a coughing fit, "please, Toby...I need to see a doctor..."

"Hush, Eileen," he yelled, glaring down at the woman as she continued to cough, spitting out blood, "you're a witch, aren't you? If you're so all-powerful, you can save yourself from a little cold, can't you?"

The ten-year-old Severus was staring at his father. There was no way his mother could even consider casting a spell now...she was too sick to even leave bed, let alone try to save herself. He watched as his father refused to take her to a doctor, refused to buy her medicines...he watched as they lowered her body into the grave - Eileen Prince Snape, who died of tuberculosis...

His father was laughing at him now, a drunken haze over his eyes. "So, you miss your dear old freak of a mother, do you?"

Severus didn't reply. His fist was wrapped tightly around his wand in his robe pocket.

"Are you ignoring me, boy? What, do you think you're better than me now, too good to answer your own father?"

"Why, yes, actually - I do," he smiled and whipped out his wand.

The man comtemplated the wand in his hand - but not for long.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Snape turned to leave, his work finished, then, with sudden inspiration, turned back and look at the body at his feet. He pointed at the corpse with his wand and gave it a small upward flick..."Levicorpus!" and the body was suspended in mid-air.