Chapter Forty-Seven
Severus released her abruptly and she stumbled, having been relying on her grip of him, his of her, to keep up upright.
She was breathless, panting, and bereft at the sudden loss of contact, barely able to contemplate what had just happened. And why he had stopped.
Stopping was most definitely not what she had had in mind.
The look in Severus' eyes broke her from her passion-induced haze; her bliss evaporating instantly when she identified it.
Fear.
Lily frowned, trying to steady her breathing; "Severus?"
His eyes pressed shut and he drew in a breath; "I…I'm sorry. I…" His eyes darted open, that same panicked look in his eyes still there; "I have to go." He almost knocked her over as he brushed by, heading with sudden swiftness towards the door.
"Wha – what? Severus, wait!"
But he was gone. Leaving her breathless, shaken and confused in his wake.
A wine glass shattered.
"Lucius?"
Sirius peered over his shoulder, curiously, at the sound of Narcissa Malfoy's concerned voice and saw the two of them; his cousin and her odious husband just a few feet away. Narcissa placed her hand on Malfoy's arm, her brow furrowing with apprehension, and Sirius noticed the splash of red wine on the floor at the other man's feet.
Lucius put a hand on her arm, saying nothing and swept on by, drawing her with him, only getting a few feet away before someone stepped in front of the two.
"Lucius! I had been hoping to run into you tonight. Millicent –"
"Pardon me, Cornelius, we were just leaving. My wife has been afflicted with a sudden headache."
Sirius' interest piqued at the falsehood.
"Oh. Well, we shall discuss this later then."
With a brief nod, Lucius swept on by, carrying on his previous path, a hand curled tight around Narcissa's wrist as he addressed her with a tone of urgency; "Where is Draco?"
Their voices faded as they drifted further away. Sirius quickly adjusted the crutch he leant on and attempted to subtly follow, straining to hear as they fell back within earshot.
"I want you to return to the Manor at once."
"Lucius, what's going on? Has something happened?"
"There is no time to explain. Draco!"
Their son was suddenly at their side. Sirius observed the three of them through the doorframe as they stepped into the corridor. Lucius seized his son with a grip of his upper arm and he swept down the corridor, drawing the other two with him in large, urgent strides that Sirius could not keep up with. Only just managing to catch what Lucius was instructing, as he focused on following in a way that was as inconspicuous as possible. Not that any of them seemed inclined to notice him.
"You must leave immediately. Do not answer the floo or the door to anyone. Await my return."
"Your return? Return from where?" Narcissa hissed, seeming to note a need for secrecy.
Lucius blasted open the door that led out onto the grounds and they scurried off, Sirius no longer able to hear what was spoken. Could only see them speaking urgently between themselves through the floor to ceiling windows.
Sirius hesitated for only a moment before he made his way towards the door; fully resolved in his intentions to follow Lucius Malfoy and find out what the man was up to. The man was a Death Eater. Perhaps following him would lead to Peter.
Sirius wouldn't put it past either of them to be planning an attack, one that could happen this very night. Perhaps even here.
The thought made Sirius pause, as he contemplated that this could be the reason Lucius had swept his family from the building. That the Foundation could be under the threat of imminent attack by Death Eaters. After all, this was a memorial fundraiser and a vast majority of the people there were the victims who had suffered and defied Voldemort. The Malfoy's had made their appearances; had shown face, so as to remove suspicion from themselves.
It was the perfect opportunity to strike.
Sirius turned quickly. He had to find Harry and Lily immediately.
But he only got a short distance, turning a corner as swiftly as he could on his weakened legs and an unsteady crutch, before he was almost knocked to the ground by Severus Snape.
Severus strode down the corridor at speed, attempting to gather his wits.
The taste of Lily was still sweet on his lips. The burn of his master still hot on his arm.
He was fully aware of how Lily would take his actions; that she would assume the way he had pulled away and immediately fled was indicative of regret. That was hardly the case. The entire circumstance was beyond anything he could have ever dreamed. But the dream had quickly become a nightmare.
Logic told him it was better that things had happened as they did. He would never be strong enough to tell her with words that the kiss meant nothing. Let her assume it from his actions.
The Dark Lord had returned.
And Lily was so fresh in his mind. He forced her from it. He could not draw attention to her. The Dark Lord could not see her when he invaded his mind. He must make him believe she no longer meant anything to him; that his weakness from before had been overcome.
Do not draw attention to Lily Potter.
Severus was already taking too long to respond to the summons. The others would probably already be there by now. Making their excuses. Every second Severus took to arrive would only arouse suspicion.
Severus rounded the corner, making his way into the main entrance hallway, only to come to a sudden halt when his eyes settled on the little boy sitting huddled on the floor. Back against the reception desk. Chin on his knees.
"Malachi!"
The boy jumped at Severus' sharp tone and quickly got to his feet; "I –"
Severus did not allow him to finish, seizing him by the arm and hurrying towards the corridor that led to the function room; "You will spend the night with your Aunt."
"Oh." Malachi struggled to keep up with Severus' long strides; "But…can't I come home with you?"
Severus ignored the question. The urge to snap. Rounded another corner and collided sharply with none other than Sirius Black.
Severus pursed his lips together; the night having quickly plunging from bliss, to terror, to hell. And there was still more to come. And yet fate still thought it would throw in a face-off with Sirius Black just to round it all off nicely.
"Going somewhere, Snape?" Black's voice was dripping with venom.
"None of your concern." Severus made to push by him.
"Your crony went that way."
Severus paused, eyes glancing in the direction Black indicated, and, sure enough, there were the Malfoys out on the grounds. Narcissa disapparated first with Draco; Lucius went a mere second later.
"Does this mean I can come home with you?" Malachi spoke up, sounding hopeful, and Severus did not have time to contemplate why the boy seemed so unhappy at the thought of staying at the Manor with his beloved Aunt.
He needed to find somewhere to place the boy immediately; wondered if there was time to drop him off at Hogwarts with Dumbledore.
At this rate the Dark Lord was going to execute him on arrival.
"You're staying with the Malfoy's?" Black's indignant voice broke his string of consciousness, as Severus' most despised – living – adversary began to rant about the indecency of it all. That his nephew should have to spend even one minute under the care of the Malfoy's. Death Eaters! Racists!
Never mind that they were family also.
Severus' patience snapped, suddenly. He had no time for Sirius Black's dramatics. He needed to go now.
Severus grasped Malachi under the arms and thrust him into Black's unsuspecting arms, making him drop his crutch to the ground with a clatter and wobble on his feet; "If you think you can do better, Black, be my guest!"
And then he strode from the building, bursting through the nearest available door and out into the night, travelling further than the Malfoy's had before disapparating. With a wave of his wand, he cast his Patronus; it emerged more powerful than ever before, the recent memory of Lily in his arms fuelling the charm with ease, and he sent it off to Dumbledore. Two simple words all that were needed to convey the message; "He's back".
And then he cleared his mind of everything. Banished all thoughts of Dumbledore. Of Lily. Especially Lily.
Drew up memories of the Dark Lord. The first war. Regulus. Lucius. Anything and everything that would strengthen his case when he faced his old master. Quickly ran over the story he and Regulus had discussed some months before; careful to lock away the memory of the conversation they had rehearsed should either of their defections ever be discovered. The other's cover had to remain intact; protect the spies.
And then he disapparated and reappeared at the foot of long stone steps that led up to the large wooden door of a mausoleum; Peter Pettigrew standing guard off to the right.
Severus barely reacted when he saw him and was grateful that the first test of his resolve was a success. For he had vowed, if he had ever come across Pettigrew at any point since his escape from Azkaban, he would easily be able to come up with an excuse to dispose of the man who had so easily given Lily up some years before.
Now, though, that could not be so. He had missed his chance.
Let Sirius Black this small victory; he can be the one to do it.
He made his way up the steps, decidedly, and stopped abruptly in front of the door.
If the Dark Lord had placed a guard, then proceedings must have already begun.
"Snape." Pettigrew's voice was filled with disdain, spoken in the same manner in which Severus remembered from years ago, back in Hogwarts. Fitting. Pettigrew may have betrayed Potter and Black but his spineless mimicry of their behaviour remained; a follower, a brainless, cowardly rat.
"Pettigrew," Severus ground out when Pettigrew made no move to go inside; "Perhaps you would like to announce me at some point tonight? The Dark Lord does not like to be kept waiting."
"You're the one that's late."
Pettigrew cracked the door open and slipped inside, the Dark Lord's voice filtering out through the gap and the familiar timbre sent a chill up Severus' spine.
"…they, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard against mortal death…"
A sudden silence met Severus' ears and then –
"Severus? Well. Please, Wormtail, do send him down. Send him down."
Severus drew in a steadying breath as he heard Pettigrew's footsteps on the stairs at the other side, climbing up to grant him access, and he lifted his wand, drawing it carefully before his face and donning the mask that was so familiar.
So very familiar.
And he merely brushed by Pettigrew when he reappeared, not waiting to be told to go, and headed through the door. Holding his head high as he made his way down the stone steps on the other side, aware of every eye in the dark, musky crypt on him. And then, when his feet left the final step and touched down on the ground, the uneven surface of the room, he quickly sank to his knees and hung his head; crawled the few feet to the hem of the Dark Lord's robes, grasping and pressing a reverent kiss to the fabric.
His lips had had more action this night than they had in the past three years combined. Perhaps the thought would be amusing if he was not almost shaking from the very conceivable threat of imminent death.
"My Lord."
"Crucio!"
Suddenly, all Severus knew was pain. Raw, excruciating agony as his nerve endings coiled and screamed and he didn't even feel the impact as he hit the ground; writhing under the effects of the Unforgivable.
And then it stopped.
Severus' body still twitched and trembled in the aftermath but his concern was focusing entirely on his mind. Keep his mind under control; that was the only way he would survive.
He felt his mask be torn from his face.
"Rise."
Severus pushed himself back up onto his knees. Eyes focused on the hem of the Dark Lord's robes.
"What kept you, Severus, do tell."
"My Lord. I apologise. I have no excuse."
"Oh, but Severus, there must have been something. Tardiness was never a flaw of yours."
Severus was silent, knowing better than to offer a verbal defence; that would only result in further punishment. He knew the game. He had fallen short. Was the last to respond to the call. And, for that, he would face their master's displeasure.
"Look at me."
Severus raised his eyes from fabric to red, piercing eyes and it was only through sheer force of will that he did not recoil at the sight that greeted him.
His vision blurred; images fluttered on by. Safe images he allowed to be accessed. Recent memories. Snatching Malachi up from the ground. Pacing the halls of the Foundation in search of Narcissa Malfoy.
A low grumbling chuckle escaped the Dark Lord as Severus' vision returned to normal; "Yours, Severus?"
"My Lord?"
"The boy."
"No." Severus lowered his head; "He is the son of Regulus Black."
"Ah. Dear, sweet Regulus. How is he, Severus? I have learned from Wormtail of his condition."
"The curse is powerful, my Lord. More so than any I have ever seen."
"The particulars?"
"Ancient; blood magic no longer practiced."
The Dark Lord looked intrigued, considering the information for a moment before he finally spoke again.
"Unfortunate. Most unfortunate. A waste of such a promising talent."
Severus said nothing. Now was not the time to plead for Regulus' life.
"On your feet."
Severus quickly straightened, doing his best not to let his surprise show at being so quickly discharged when the Dark Lord gave him a sharp nod in the direction of the others; a signal to join the ranks. He made his way over, sharing a brief glance with Lucius as he did.
The Dark Lord seemed to follow on his heels but he swept by him, stopping just short in front of Lucius; "And you, my slippery friend; have you no excuses for me?"
"My Lord," Lucius' voice was hoarse; "My loyalty did not falter."
"Yet you did not seek me out."
"My master, had there been any sign; a whisper –"
"There were more than whispers, Lucius; more than signs. You chose not to join the others in their demonstrations of enduring devotion." His eyes turned suddenly back to Severus; "Nor did you, Severus."
"We are unworthy, my Lord." Severus' voice was quiet.
"You are."
Severus unconsciously braced himself for a further Cruciatus that didn't come.
"I expect better. In the future."
"Yes, my Lord," Lucius breathed; "You are merciful; most merciful."
Severus only bowed his head, lower; he had never been one to demonstrate his loyalty through grovelling. He would lower himself, know his place, await and accept his punishments without protest, without sound. Just the clutching of dark robes, lips pressing to them in earnestness.
The only time Severus had ever pleaded had been for Lily's life. For that, for his break from the quiet, dutiful servant, the Dark Lord had taken great interest in the request.
"Such lack of faith, Lucius." It was spoken quietly; "A transgression which may be charged against all within this room." The Dark Lord turned, sweeping his gaze across them all; "My most trusted." He stepped in front of Macnair, face leaning in close; "Speak."
"My Lord," Macnair breathed, every inch of him radiating fear; "We did not…how could we…there was no evidence that you had surv-"
"Crucio!"
Macnair fell to the ground, screaming in agony, but the others in the room were not granted with the freedom to watch; the sounds of his torture becoming mere background noise as the Dark Lord swept around and addressed them all; "And were these the thoughts of you all? That I had been defeated?"
No one dared to breathe.
"After I had assured you all of the measures I had taken to ensure my immortality. Oh, I have heard the rumours. The belief that I was vanquished by the boy; an infant. Could it be that my most trusted disciples believed this to be the case?"
Silence.
"No?"
When the silence stretched, the Dark Lord closed in on another; "Avery?"
The Death Eater almost trembled as he came under their master's scrutiny; "My Lord. We have all wanted nothing more than this…this miracle to come to pass. When the Mark began to reappear we – a number of us – we began the preparations for your return. We…we resumed our attacks on the muggles and the mudbloods that have tarnished our world –"
The Dark Lord allowed him to speak longer than any of the others. Waited in patient silence until his follower ceased to speak and the long silence that drew out in the aftermath left Severus tense with anticipation; half expecting a further Cruciatus to be thrown cast.
"That you did." The Dark Lord spoke with an eerie softness in his tone before his eyes landed on another to the side, a second, a third; "Mossburn. Macnair. All of you have taken it upon yourselves to wreak havoc once again. But tell me, why did you doubt Wormtail's information of my return for so long? I know he came to you sooner."
The Dark Lord spun, eyes flashing, as they rested back on Severus; "And you, Severus? You were always so gifted, so eager to explore the possibilities of the unknown; it would have been quite a challenge for you, to uncover the mystery of an unknown branch of magic. Such possibilities always intrigued you. I do hope this has not…changed."
"My Lord," Severus' voice came out almost as a choke and he willed himself to calmness; "I believed it was in the best interests of us all that my cover remained intact; should I stray from Hogwarts, come under the suspicions of the Headmaster so close to the circumstances of your return, it would have been detrimental to my usefulness as a spy."
The Dark Lord eyed him; "Then you believe Dumbledore to consider you a faithful servant."
"I do, my Master. I have remained close to him in the years since your disappearance. I felt it necessary to continue to do so throughout the process of your return. For which I have awaited."
"We all have a role. Is that right, Severus?"
Severus dipped his head in acquiescence.
"What of this Foundation that you have so thrown yourself into? A creation of Regulus Black himself. One that seeks to undo all that I had constructed."
"My Lord, that was not the intention. Regulus Black saw an opportunity. A possibility to profit in the aftermath of the war. He was not gifted with a sense of direction following Hogwarts. His belief in your cause, in the very essence of what we have fought for, has always driven him. He was…lost following your disappearance. And yet, he saw the suffering in the aftermath, others also lost, and with that he saw the opportunity to build something for himself. To profit from the destruction."
"How very…Slytherin."
"Yes. Regulus Black has always been opportunistic."
"And yet he aligns himself with mudbloods."
"No, my Lord. Merely uses their misfortunes for his own elevation. He has become a highly influential figure."
"Which can only be of benefit to us, Severus?"
"Yes." Severus agreed, hesitating only a second, before dipping his head and adding; "Should he survive, of course."
"And you, Severus? What has made you align yourself with this organisation?"
"My Lord. As you said, I have always been keen to explore the mysteries of the Dark Arts. And yet Dumbledore consigns me to the role of Potions Master. I teach foolish children how to brew the simplest of concoctions; it is…unsatisfying. Regulus Black offered me the chance to continue exploring my own interests, while remaining deeply aware of the necessity that I remain situated at Hogwarts. His knowledge of my loyalty and need to maintain my usefulness to you meant that he was extremely accommodating to my rather demanding schedule, which I could not expect within another organisation without arousing suspicion."
The Dark Lord's eyes remained on his; after a second they narrowed and bore into him and the memories fluttered on by in a haze. Memories Severus pushed to the surface. He and Regulus in the Foundation. And then Dumbledore. Severus sitting across from the old man in his office. Severus pouring over a brew as he created the dragon pox vaccination. Severus standing before a group of first years, speaking of the Draft of the Living Death. Severus and Regulus discussing Foundation scheduling. Severus lifting Regulus from the rubble of his office. Severus unwrapping the package that Lucius had sent to him, revealing the title of the book; The Mysteries of Blood and Souls.
Severus' vision cleared to find the Dark Lord looking at him contemplatively.
And then he gave him a sinister smile; "Very good, Severus. Stay behind." And then he turned his attention to another; "I am certain that all within this room have had some associations with the Foundation which Severus and I speak of." His eyes went to Lucius; "Of course I would expect no less from some." But the Dark Lord spared Lucius further inspection, turning his eyes to the Death Eater to his side instead; "But not everyone's impotence can be explained away by Severus' reasoning; nor Regulus and Lucius' ambitions for self-elevation. What excuses do you offer, Goyle?"
The remainder of the meeting involved the same such interrogations that Severus had faced; some, most, fell short. Several Cruciatus curses fired forth; screams of agony filling the room. One by one, they each offered their excuses, their apologies and accepted their punishment until, finally, the Dark Lord seemed satisfied with his examinations and released them.
"We shall reconvene soon. There is much to deliberate. I trust you all to be prompt when I call upon you."
The Dark Lord offered no explanations of his own; no tale of his own disappearance nor how he had come to return. Except, Severus remembered, the brief comments he had seemed to be making when he had interrupted with his arrival. Lucius had dared to question him, asking him how this 'miracle' had come to be; only to be struck down for his insolence in both questioning the possibility and doubting their Master's abilities at doing so.
One by one, the Death Eaters departed, leaving Severus alone with his Master.
The nervousness that had gradually come under control as time had gone on, following the Dark Lord's acceptance of his own excuses – and those he made on behalf of Regulus – began to make itself known once more. Fear gripping him tight.
"You say you believe Dumbledore to be fooled."
"I do, my Lord. Dumbledore was willing to offer a defence, should I have gone to trial."
"Which you did not."
Severus was silent.
"I have several loyal followers within the confines of Azkaban; those who would have rather spent the remainder of their days within it rather than renounce me."
"Yes, my Lord. But I believed my time would be better spent carrying on with the role which I had been assigned. My faith in your return never faltered. As such, I knew it was necessary I carry on as instructed. Should I have renounced the Order and joined the others in Azkaban I would have been unable to offer the services I can now provide."
"Yes. What information can you provide me with?"
"Dumbledore was also confident that you would, once again, rise."
"Hm. Not unexpected. Anything further?"
"He will call upon the Order of the Phoenix once word of your reappearance reaches him. Which I shall infiltrate and relay any useful information to yourself."
"Of course. More?"
"He has been busying himself with investigations over how your immortality came to be."
Silence.
"And has he made any progress, Severus?"
"No."
He tightened his occlumency shields.
"You must ensure that your position with him is secure enough that he will confide in you this confidence when he does. If he approaches you, offer him any assistance he requests, and report back to me."
"Yes, my Lord."
"In the meantime, inform him of my calling upon you tonight. There is no point in concealing it, Dumbledore is relentless. He must believe you to be as useful to him as you are to me. I shall ensure you are able to provide him with enough information to elevate your position within his esteem."
Severus dipped his head in compliance.
"Now. Tell me of Regulus Black. A blood curse, you said?"
"Y-yes." The sudden change of topic made him stumble.
"And what of his loyalties, Severus? You are close to him, are you not? You, more than anyone, would be aware if his faith were to waver. Do you have any doubts as to his devotion to me, to our cause?"
"None at all."
"And would you be willing to stake your life on that, Severus?"
"I would."
He answered without hesitation.
The Dark Lord lifted his chin, eyes still focused entirely on Severus'. Watching, waiting; looking for any glimpse of contradiction to the words spoken. None came. The Dark Lord turned from him, his expression turning contemplative once again.
"Then we shall see to it that Regulus is returned to us. Such a high profile figure can only be of benefit to us. And his association with the mudbloods, however mercenary it may be, could work to our advantage. You have been working on a counter to the curse, I presume? Have you made any progress?"
"Some. But…not with the swiftness that I had hoped. Time is a luxury which Regulus does not have."
"You have become incredibly…eloquent in your speech patterns, Severus. Very composed. Hardly the boy I remember."
Severus dipped his head; "A consequence of a measure of control I have had to develop being under Dumbledore's scrutiny, my Lord. As well as the patience needed when dealing with the less than impressive antics of school children."
"Hm. Yes. Very composed." He eyed him; "No weakness to share, Severus?"
Severus felt his blood run cold.
"I seem to remember a certain young redhead; a Mrs James Potter who had taken your fancy some years ago."
The Dark Lord's eyes widened with a knowing glint, as he paced, turning his back on Severus as he let the words hang in the air. The acknowledgement of the plea Severus had made; spare the mother. Spare Lily Evans.
Severus was a fool for even hoping that the Dark Lord would forget it.
"She…my weakness has been overcome, my Lord."
"Then you claim you have not pursued her." The Dark Lord turned to face him, practically clicking his heels together; "Yet I have heard differently."
Severus shook his head; "My Lord. She is…irrelevant."
"Irrelevant?" His master repeated, before he smirked; "Then you wish for your request that I spare her life to be lifted?"
Severus could only stare back at him. Unable to say it. Not if there was a chance that the Dark Lord would still adhere to the word he had given him years before.
A low grumble, a laugh, sounded deep within his master's chest.
And then the Dark Lord nodded, slowly; "Desire is a man's weakness, Severus. Even a follower as gifted as yourself is not immune. That is…comforting."
Severus forced himself to keep control, uncertain if the Dark Lord was merely amused or if there was a lingering threat in his words.
"You have proven yourself useful to me, Severus. As able as ever. Your actions these past few years have undoubtedly served me better than those of your fellow Death Eaters. A small concession, I suppose, so long as she does not become a nuisance."
"Tha-thank you, my Lord." It came out as a whisper, barely able to believe that the earlier promise would still be honoured.
"She is unworthy of notice, Severus. You would do better to focus your attentions elsewhere." That piece of advice ended the conversation of Lily; "Now, tell me of your attempts to revive our friend. Regulus' time is short?"
"It is."
"Then, I suppose, we must act with due haste. Have you begun the preparations?"
"I…have fallen short in my own investigations, my Lord. But I believe that…with your abilities; simply your intervention will be enough to remove the curse which has been unleashed. If I were to bring him to you –"
"Ah. Your confidence in my abilities is as strong as ever; you flatter me. I cannot help him alone, Severus. Blood Magic is far beyond my own capabilities. Ancient; powerful. I have always longed to learn more."
Severus felt his stomach tighten; the Dark Lord was Regulus' last chance.
"However, I do believe that, together, you and I shall be able to return the boy to us." The Dark Lord paused, then spoke with certainty; "Our abilities, combined, shall be enough, I am sure. You remain as knowledgeable as ever when it comes to the art of Potions Master, I presume? I have some information regarding blood curses which I shall share; once you have constructed the necessary draft, I shall be able to lift it."
"I am at your disposal, my Master."
"You are, Severus. That you are."