As soon as the feast was over and the students left for bed, another had begun. Three hundred witches and wizards all over Europe donned their cloaks and clutched the burning skulls on their forearms. Severus had barely been able to brush off the confetti before he was summoned. He could only imagine what was in store for tonight and briefly wondered if he would ever be free of the savage crimes. The meetings seemed even more frequent these past few months. Snape would return to Hogwarts, drunk and battered, and retreat to his rooms to wash the blood off his hands. He'd watch the red run down the porcelain, unable to think of anything but death, his own quite attractive in those moments.
His Death Eater robes were dramatic against the milky stones of the medieval gate. The white carnival mask was almost theatrical through the screen of his stringy black hair. The full moon lit the pathway to the East entrance, and the ballroom was already crowded with a congregation of identical masked-murderers, drinking and trying new hexes. Another villainous masquerade awaited Severus Snape.
"Well, it certainly brings new meaning to the whole… black and white and red all over jest…" Lucius Malfoy smiled drunkenly and leaned towards McNair, his greasy-faced pig of a companion.
The black and white checkerboard floor of the Malfoy ballroom was splattered with red. All in all, the surroundings of the place were nauseatingly obscene.
This was fuel for mirth among the death-eating crowd.
A metallic scent was fresh against the Dark Lord's nostrils. Malfoy's ballroom had accommodated the festivities wonderfully.
Lucius was annoyingly drunk. His silver hair clung to his face and he slurred every other word. He made a great fool, lying haphazardly in his chair, red-faced and reckless.
Severus was silent. Alcohol did nothing for him but rouse sorrow. And so he was a brooding drunk. His eyes glazed obsidian behind his bloody mask. The ballroom chandeliers blurred until they swayed. His mind traveled involuntarily through the evening's events, events that would surely transfer to the pensieve later in the night. But, for now, he would not forget.
What had transpired was rotten. The Dark Lord wished to expose the black nothing that lurked within each of his miserable servants. They were demons consumed by darkness and these gore parties only served to prove this. The fouler the celebrations became, the more pleased Voldemort was. And Severus was dangerously close to believing he was the same. No matter if he was of the light. Where was this so-called light? His soul, it seemed, had forever been a void plagued by slaughter and rape.
Through his teary vision, the haunting melody of his ballad was buzzing in his head. For a moment he was back at Hogwarts, in front of the parlor grand, running his palms along the keys. The clock on the mantle was ticking unchanged, and the overwhelming emotions were flooded against the instrument, the chords created in an instant, erasing the pain for a time.
He splayed his fingers on the cocktail bar, inconspicuously thrumming invisible notes as if a keyboard emerged from the wood. He imagined he was playing. He imagined to keep his sanity…
The Dark Lord had moved to sit and drink at the bar. Most of the festivities were dying down, and Severus noticed the two youngest followers mingling about the crowd. The first, Draco, the arrogant son of a bitch who was his favored Slytherin. The second, a girl from Durmstrang he hadn't seen in years, and he knew she had returned for the war. He was pondering how tragic it was that children accepted the mark, when a grey hand lifted his tumbler, filling it with fresh liquor.
"My lord," Severus acknowledged, shifting in his seat to abolish his reverie. He removed his mask to reveal his dizzy face. His expression was definitely drunk
"Severus, are you enjoying yourself?" Voldemort smiled, and Snape could swear a chill had taken over. The evil man plucked at his robe, removing something from his shoulder and distracting him. A shred of purple glitter that he clutched between his bony fingers reflected in the light of the chandelier.
"Party at Hogwarts?" His cold whisper was amused. Severus sighed.
"The Headmaster's a queer lunatic. He might actually be good for something if he spent less time adorning the halls of the school and inhaling lemon sweets."
The dark man laughed. "Still the same, old Dumbledore, still the same."
"Indeed." Snape took a swig of the brandy, clattering the tumbler on the bar top.
"It seems Malfoy's elves have quite a mess to clean up haven't they?" Voldemort cocked his head towards the sticky pool of gore, carelessly smiling as if it was the pile of purple confetti that had been cleared from the floor of the Great Hall.
"Mhm," Severus mumbled.
The dark man moved closer to the professor. His eyes narrowed. "Down to business Severus. How long until the elixir is ready?"
"M-my lord." Snape finished his glass and straightened in his chair as much as possible. Inebriated as he was, his words made sense.
"My lord, the potion should be ready by spring. It must be stabilized, and I have yet to discover what ingredients will give it the desired effect."
"Almighty power and endless strength." The Dark Lord spoke the words with hunger. A gruesome glint in his eye showed his desire. Severus didn't like it a bit and his head throbbed in pain.
"Yes my lord… All of that."
"Excellent."
