November 22, 1996. Voldemort's Lair.

Voldemort gave Snape only a few days to recover from what he had done to him at their last meeting before he summoned him again. Snape dared not refuse the summons of the burning Dark Mark, not without a very good reason, which he was not feeling well enough to think of.

Besides which, Dumbledore had spoken to him again during the past few days giving him specific instructions to respond promptly next time the Dark Lord demanded his presence, and precisely what bits of information he should and should not share with him. They discussed other things as well, which as usual led to a great deal of shouting. The shouting matches were become increasingly frequent this year. He had agreed to do what Dumbledore had told him to do, but that did not mean he always had to like it. And there were more and more things the Headmaster demanded of him that he did not like at all. As usual, the Headmaster came out on top in these shouting matches, simply reminding Snape quietly of the promises he had made, rather than raising his voice at all.

So, as soon as Snape felt the Dark Mark burn on his arm, he put on his Death Eater robes, and mask in hand, Apparated to the location the Dark Mark led him to. Voldemort was there, sitting in an ancient, overstuffed armchair. It had once been upholstered with a vivid, emerald green velvet, fit for a Slytherin king. Time and the elements, however, had faded it to a shade that was closer to yellow. A fitting shade, Snape thought absently, for whatever sort of half-living parasite the Dark Lord had now become. Voldemort looked at him sharply as the thought flitted through his head, reminded Snape to take care to conceal such disloyal thoughts while in the Dark Lord's presence.

"It is good that you came, Severus." the Dark Lord whispered at him in a menacing voice. "I have a number of matters to discuss with you."

Snape bowed very low, his forehead nearly touching the floor. "I am yours to command, my lord."

"Perhaps." The Dark Lord regarded Snape with slitted red eyes. As always, he found the Potion's Master to be something of an enigma. It was hard to divine his thoughts. But Snape had thus far not been proven to be a traitor, as Bellatrix claimed. And he was not inclined to take Bellatrix's word about anything just now, since she had made the ridiculous assertion several days ago that Snape was somehow responsible for the mutilation of her husband, Rodolphus. Voldemort was not entirely certain why Bellatrix was so upset about the matter, since she herself had whipped and otherwise injured her husband numerous times in the peculiar rituals that passed for sex in the LeStrange household. Perhaps she felt that no-one other than herself had the right to do such a thing to her husband. Pushing aside thoughts of the sado-masochism of the LeStrange couple, Voldemort turned his full attention to the submissive Potions Master before him.

"Tell me, Severus. How does Draco Malfoy fare these days. Does he miss his father?"

Severus considered the question quickly with a mind which was far superior to the Dark Lord's. There was a hidden trap in the questions. Of that he was certain. There almost always was, with anything Voldemort asked. He could not let the Dark Lord know precisely how poorly Draco was doing. Nor could he let him know that Draco missed his father to an almost unbearable extent. Voldemort would interpret either as unforgivable weakness, and likely have Draco killed.

"Draco could be doing slightly better than he is." Severus said, choosing his words carefully. "I don't believe that he is getting enough sleep. I don't know why. He often seems tired during the day. I have been providing him with Pepper-up and enervate potions, which seem to be helping him somewhat. As for his father, he does not mention him that often, and grows angry when others do. I believe he is ashamed of the manner in which Lucius failed so completely in your service."

Voldemort nodded, to Snape's relief. He drew the conclusions Snape wanted him to, which were that Draco was working very hard indeed on the tasks he had been given, and was extremely loyal, determined not to fail as his father had, so he could redeem his family's honor in the eyes of the Dark Lord. He was not likely to succeed in those tasks, of course. He was not meant to succeed. But if he died while still loyal, he might possibly ensure the safety of his mother.

"Very good, Severus." The Dark Lord said. "Continue to provide Draco with the potions which you have been. If they do not prove effective, then brew something stronger for him. But make sure that that fool, Dumbldore, does not find out."

"Yes, my Lord." Snape prostrated himself, and remained there. The Dark Lord would speak again or dismiss him when he saw fit. He was forced to stay in the uncomfortable position for over a minute while the Dark Lord regarded him.

"You may rise, Severus." The Dark Lord finally said. "There is another matter I wish to discuss with you."

"Of course, your Lordship." Snape got to his feet, but kept his head bowed. It was a sign of subservience, but more importantly, helped conceal his eyes and his thoughts from Voldemort.

"Did you speak to Dumbledore about the wizard who attacked Rodolphus Lestrange, as I commanded you?"

"Of course, my Lord." Snape nodded. "Since you ordered me to. He would have found out about it anyways. He has many sources of information."

"Yes." Voldemort sneered. "And what was his opinion on the matter? Did he know anything which I do not?"

"He knew very little, my Lord. You must forgive me for not being able to get very much useful information from that sentimental fool on this matter, but the fact is that despite his much-exaggerated wisdom, he knows relatively little about the more useful of the Dark Arts. You know far more about such matters than he does. Or than anyone else does, I would say."

"That is true." The Dark Lord permitted himself to bask in the praise for a moment. "What did he have to say on the matter, Severus?"

"I conversed with him about several times, during the past few days." Severus said, showing the Dark Lord that he was quite vehement in his service. "But learned very little. He does not believe that this was a rogue auror, from the Ministry of Magic. He does not believe that this wizard was even from England, but rather is a Gibsonite, from Australia."

"I had come to the same conclusion myself, based on the accent in Rodolphus's memories." Voldemort hissed. "And they are very skilled Apparators over there. But why would he come here?"

Snape shrugged. "Well, you did send your followers to attack them at one time, my Lord. And they did kill a number of people and destroy their school. It is my belief, and Dumbledore agrees with me, that he has a grudge of some kind."

"After all this time?" Voldemort began to look angry. "Why come now, when the whole world knows I have been restored to power. Why not attack when I was nearly killed by that filth, Harry Potter. I was weak, less than a ghost. If he had a grudge, why did he not seize his chance and attack my Death Eaters then? Why wait until now?"

"I don't know, my Lord. Perhaps he is insane." Snape struggled to conceal from the Dark Lord the numerous speculations Dumbledore had had on the matter. "It is common knowledge that the Gibsonites are highly eccentric wizards. It would not be surprising if one of them slipped down into complete madness."

"For a madman, he is remarkably skilled, would you not say, Severus?"

"Yes, my Lord. He is very good at Apparating, at least."

"That is not all he is good at!" Voldemort snarled. "I have been reviewing the memory I took from Rodolphus. I've looked at it dozens of times, studying this wizard, attempting to learn all I could about him. I've seen his eyes. The way they changed. They are the eyes of someone who has used great skill at the Dark Arts to grant himself great power."

"Yes, Dumbledore said much the same thing. However he feels that whatever it is this wizard has done to himself is to be condemned."

"Dumbledore is a weakling!" The Dark Lord sneered. "If he had any balls, and did not fear to take the power so easily availiable to him, he could have destroyed me long ago. But he would rather remain 'pure'. He keeps himself weak, and everyone around him weak as well, out of his simpering fears."

Voldemort got up from the chair and began striding around the room. It was not a good sign, he generally did so when he was well on his way to becoming infuriated. Snape said nothing, hoping that the Dark Lord would work out his anger though his venomous words.

"This wizard who attacked Rodolphus has power." Voldemort said to Snape. "Great power. I am not certain of what kind, yet. I have never heard of a wizard with eyes precisely like the ones he had. Neither have any of my followers. I have ordered all of them to review every book they own on the Dark Arts, to see if there is a description of anything like this. I now order you to do the same, Severus."

"Yes, my lord." If a boring review of several books he already knew by heart was all the Dark Lord demanded of him today, he would be getting off very easily.

"As I said, though, I have not heard of anything exactly like this, before. And I know more about the Dark Arts than any wizard alive. So it may be that this is some new thing, some new form of the Dark Arts." He glanced at Snape.

"That is possible, my Lord. The Dark Arts are continually changing and evolving." As was all magic, he thought deep within himself. But it would not do to let Voldemort ever see that insight within him.

"If it is some new form of the Dark Arts, " Voldemort said to Severus. "Then I must know what it is. I must have this power for myself, whatever it is. This wizard must be made to tell me. I have changed my mind about wanting him dead. I want him brought to me alive, so he can share his secrets with me. If any Death Eaters kill him, I will make what this wizard did to Rodolphus look like child's play. Do I make myself clear?"

"Quite clear, my Lord." Merlin help them all if this Wizard turned up dead somehow. Voldemort would pick one of more of his Death Eater servants to blame for it. Then he dared a question. "If I might ask, my Lord, how do you intend to catch this wizard? He apparates so quickly, I would think it would be rather difficult to do so."

Voldemort looked at him coldly, and Snape drew in his breath, preparing himself for the Crucio curse. But it never came. His gamble paid off. "As usual, you have much wisdom, despite your unfortunate ancestry, Severus. This is a good point. Such a skilled Apparator would be very hard to catch. Let me think for a moment."

Voldemort sat back down on the faded armchair. Severus said nothing while he permitted the evil wizard before him to think.

"If he cannot be captured by force, then he must somehow be persuaded to come and see me." Voldemort finally decided. "He wants something, or claims he does. I don't know what it is, but I must find out. Once I have, I will get it, whatever it is, and offer it to him, in exchange for his knowledge of the Dark Arts."

"What if it is something you can't obtain? Or something that doesn't exist? He is a madman, after all, my Lord." Snape pointed out. "For all you know, he wants a peice of Saturn's rings or something equally impossible."

"It is of no matter." Voldemort waved Snape's concerns away. "Once I find out what it is, even if I cannot get it, I will tell him that I do have it, regardless. If necessary, I will use illusions or other magic to convince him that I have whatever it is. By the time he finds out I don't have it, it will be too late for him."

"I see." Snape was not certain whether this wizard was the type who could be fooled by trickery and lies, but did not say so. "It seems a very clever plan, my Lord."

"Yes, even more clever than another plan I have come up with, of late."

"Another plan, my Lord?" It was slightly risky for Snape to question the Dark Lord, but he knew from experience that Voldemort enjoyed the opportunity to boast. How he had ever gotten into Slytherin, with so little discretion, was beyond Snape. It must have been a combination of his ancestry and his ambitions.

"Yes, this wizard has inspired me. Severus. He does not sit and wait for fate to deliver to him what it is that he wants. He goes out and DEMANDS it of the world. I have decided that I have been far too patient, of late. I have not done enough to destroy my enemies. Harry Potter should not still be alive. I am tired of waiting for chance to deliver him into my hands. I have a new plan to go out and seize him. And once I do, I shall kill him."

"Indeed." Snape's face was impassive, though he was highly alarmed. This was not good at all. He needed Harry Potter alive. Lord knew he had very little love for the boy, but he was his only chance to be free of the cancerous mark on his arm. "How are you going to get Potter, my Lord? You can hardly get him while he is in Hogwarts castle, protected by the wards there. And even when he is elsewhere, Dumbledore has seen to it that he is well guarded."

The crucio spell that hit him a moment later was entirely unexpected. Snape writhed on the floor for thirty seconds that seemed like nearly ten minutes to him, until the Dark Lord lifted the spell. By the time he could move again, his pants were thoroughly wettened under his robe.

"Do not question me for details on my plans again, Severus. If there is something you need to know, you will be told of it." The Dark Lord said harshly.

"Yes, forgive me, my Lord. I suffer from inappropriate curiousity sometimes. One does not become a potions master, or an expert at the Dark arts, without having an inquiring nature." Snape picked himself up weakly off the floor. It was a testament to the caliber of his mind that even in this state, he carefully chose his words, creating in the Dark Lord's mind a kinship between himself and Snape in the inquiring natures they both needed to become experts at various magical crafts.

"Very well. But do not ask about things that do not concern you, again." Voldemort summoned Nagini with a hiss in Parseltongue. The snake crawled up and wrapped itself around his throat. "You may go now. Do not tell anyone of what we have discussed here. I do not want that fool, Dumbledore, attempting to hide either that wizard or that idiot Potter from me."

"Of course not." Snape bowed again, before Apparating away. Oh hell, he was going to do nothing of the sort. He was going to Dumbledore immediately, well, immediately after he washed himself and got some clean garments. It would be disastrous for Voldemort to get his hands on either of them. But for the life of him, he did not know what Dumbledore was going to do. Potter was so stupid that he insisted on putting himself in danger at every turn. As for the Gibsonite Wizard, whoever he was, he was undoubtledly far more intelligent than Potter. But that was no great accomplishment. Mrs. Norris was probably far more intelligent than Potter, at least when it came to survival, which was all that ultimately mattered in the world. But he was hardly likely to let Dumbledore do anything about protecting him from Voldemort, either.

Voldemort gazed thoughtfully at the spot where Snape had vanished from. The Potions Master often asked questions that he should not have. It could just be an inquiring nature, as he said. Or it could be an attempt at treachery, as Bellatrix insisted. Severus was useful, though, for his intelligence and his Potions. It would not do to kill him unless he were proven beyond a doubt to be disloyal. Well, time would tell, eventually. He would see if Snape attempted to interfere with any of his plans.