Chapter 12: Severus

The Dark Lord was glaring at me, his red eyes gleaming with hate. Lucius Malfoy stood beside him, with only a smirk to betray how much he was enjoying this.

"Severus, you do disappoint me. To think, I, Lord Voldemort, trusted you. I prized you above any other. And this is how you repay me?" A thin, translucent arm protruded from the sleeve of a tattered robe and pointed a bony finger.

I strained to see what Voldemort was pointing to, but the harder I focused, the less I could see. My heart was pounding; a thin sheen of sweat covered my face. I didn't know why, but I knew that beyond my sight there was something more precious to me than life itself.

Lucius spoke, voice filled with loathing. "Really, Severus. Rather primitive, don't you think? Of course, you never were one for, what did you call it? Oh yes. Foolish wand waving." Withdrawing his wand, he pointed it at Severus.

"No, Lucius. He is mine!" Voldemort had risen and was circling me like an animal. "But, perhaps, he'd rather watch our fun first?" With a wave of his hand, Voldemort encircled me with invisible ropes.

I was unable to blink, unable to speak, barely able to breathe. I could only stare in horror as the object I was so desperately seeking earlier came into focus. One ruddy brown curl was all I saw before everything went black.

I awoke with the sound of maniacal laughter filling my head. I steadied my breathing, telling myself that nightmares were nothing new. In fact, I don't remember the last time I had a sleep that wasn't filled with some type of mind torture. The object of my nightmare, however, was new.

I'm sure that Miss…Hermione is a factor here. I would be a fool not to realize that the tentative new connection we had discovered had my mind in a frenzy. Whether I liked it or not, there was old magic at work here.

Standing and stretching, I realized that I felt better than I usually did after a run-in with the Dark Lord. That, I could also attribute to the bushy-haired slip of a girl who had apparently invaded my thoughts.

Well, it was a new morning, and there were things to do. With a pop, I Apparated to my house at Spinners End.

I was never able to come here without thinking about the grand manor that had been in my family as a youth. With that came memories of my sweet mother. It had been soothing to watch the place burn to the ground after my father died, for it held nothing but memories of abuse and misery. Memories of my mother's death. Burning it had been a cleansing of sorts. Shaking my head, I entered through the rickety door.

The house was nothing to look at, being small and run-down, but I knew something that others did not. Walking to the bookshelf that housed a few of my least precious books, I ran my hand along until I came to a well worn volume. With a light touch, the shelf opened up to a passage. Moving, quietly, checking for intruders and signs of magic, I passed into my laboratory.

Inhaling deeply, I felt a wave of welcome wash over me. The soft, violet-like scent of orris root, the light, minty waft of fluxweed, the pungent odor of sagebrush leaves. Here, I belonged. If only I felt like that elsewhere….

Walking over to my well-stocked shelves, I pocketed a jar of horse tail. If Hermione intended to experiment with counteractive potions she might as well have the right ingredients at her disposal. One doesn't often get to work with someone so intelligent, and I had to admit, she piqued my curiosity.

Sighing heavily, I leaned against my work bench, head in my hands. Putting off the inevitable never suited me, but now, I would give my wand arm to be able to forget all that Albus had discussed with me.

The logical part of me knew that he was right. In order for Potter to stand a chance, he had to be able to stand on his own, without Albus there protecting him. Not only that, my place as a spy was more precarious than ever, and I was needed far more in the Dark Lord's inner circle than an old wizard who may or may not have the strength to fight when the time came. Albus had explained that he could feel the magic draining from him daily. For a wizard, there could be nothing worse; not even death. If for some reason, he was to fall into the wrong hands….

But, my heart felt differently. Albus was the closest thing to a father that I had ever had. Yes, he used me to every advantage, but I did not hold that against him much. In dark times, one does what one must. Still, this might be the one thing he asked of me that I couldn't do. At least there was time to think, and that was one of my strengths.

I spent the morning with busywork. I made notes of items that needed refilling, straightened jars, selected some books that might be helpful, and started brewing a new round of Wolfsbane for Lupin.

Too soon, it was nearing afternoon. I had neglected to eat, and my stomach reminded me of that fact. Ignoring it, I took one last look at my lab, to ensure everything was in order. Gods grant me patience this afternoon.

With a nauseous lurch, I found myself once again outside of the manor. Magic crackled in the air, and I was glad to see the chit had at least resurrected the wards on the place. It appeared that she altered them to recognize me; because no sooner had I appeared, than I felt them ebb. Clever, that one. But, wasn't that what she had tried to prove all those years? Again that niggling memory of another seeking such approval tried to push its way in. I shoved it back out again.

Not bothering to knock, I entered the house, assuming that Hermione would be in the lab. I was not prepared however, for the sight that met my eyes.

In a position that one could only describe as fetal, the very same girl was sound asleep on the sofa, clutching a roll of parchment. Several books were lying on the floor next to her. Alvar, the house elf, was standing there, making a motion for me to remain silent. Of all the insufferable cheek! And the ugly thing had the nerve to grimace at me and beckon me to follow him.

Once out of earshot, he said, "Miss needs rest, Mister Snape sir. She's all in, working and worrying all the time. Mister Snape need not muck about and disturb her!"

"We all need rest, you miserable little bugger. That doesn't mean that we get it. Move aside." Dismissing him, I did not get far. I found myself flat on my arse, with a scowling house elf looking down at me. Powerful little shites; house-elves. It would probably do me well to remember that in the future.

"No sir. Miss needs her rest, yes she does. Alvar will bring you tea…downstairs." With a swift nod, as if to confirm his words, he crossed his arms.

Extremely angry at the liberties the elf was taking, I rose and towered over him. "If you attempt to do anything like that again…" My threat was interrupted by a throat clearing.

"You'll what, Severus? You're forgetting that you are in the intruder here. Alvar is just doing his duty. Thank you Alvar, we'll both have tea now." Hermione's hair was disheveled and her cheeks rosy from her nap. Her eyes, however, were snapping at me, daring me to comment. Feeling defeated, which was something new for me, I remained silent. Some things are just not worth it. I did not feel like sparring with an angry female today.

A look of surprise crossed her face, but she said nothing, simply beckoning me to follow her. I noted that the fire danced higher when we passed, but did not comment on it. Primitive magic, indeed.

Primitive. Lucius. With a start, I looked at the ruddy brown curls in front of me and felt an overwhelming sense of foreboding. We would all need a good measure of luck to make it through this alive.


A/N: Yes, it's been a long time since I've updated, I know. No excuses here. The muse just left, as did the time. But, here you go. In part, this is filler, but it does serve us with a couple of enlightenments.

Thanks to Judy for the beta!

Disclaimer: Please. I'm lucky to come up with an original thought myself, much less these characters. LOL