The ancient grandfather clock ticked loudly within the corridor of Malfoy manor. The Dark Mark ached as he came closer to the Dark Lord. The closer he got the more he realised that the powerful wizard was in Potter's room. His steps became faster.

He had to stop when he arrived. The Dark Lord's wand was hovering over the boy, a dark mist surrounding him and getting absorbed into him. Whenever it did the boy groaned in his potion induced sleep.

"Ah, Severus… so good that you could make it. Close the door, we have much to discuss." Severus mechanically did what he was told. Salazar's book hovered opened at a page Severus hadn't yet read.

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Harry felt the waves of darkness filtering through his pores. Waves of warmth that felt sickening to the core. He opened his eyes, to see Voldemort's wand filling him with darkness. Something inside him made him struggle, even with the Dark Lord still partly controlling him.

"That's right Harry, wake up a little. Severus, tell me, the potion will be ready tomorrow?" The Dark Lord asked.

Harry grunted and tried to reach up to stop the wand's effects. Voldemort placed his icy hand over his and pushed it back down.

"Yes my lord. It is absorbing the moon's light as we speak." Snape said. Harry turned to look at the potions master who looked at him with cold indifference.

"Good. The ritual space has been prepared. Tomorrow the five others shall read from Slytherin's book and you will administer the potion." Harry shuddered curling away from the swirling, toxic darkness he couldn't get away from.

"Will the boy survive this current… teaching?" Snape's voice was becoming an echo in his mind.

"Harry is not capable of mustering darkness inside him powerful enough to tap into the Dark Arts I wish for him to learn. As such, I found an alternative spell that will encourage the darkness everyone possesses. It will also help make tomorrow's transition much easier."

"Nnh! S-stop… it…" Harry managed to force out.

"Mmh? Not until the darkness settles inside you." Voldemort said. The swirls settled into anger and hate and disgust and everything vile Harry ever remembered feeling.

"Stop it!" He yelled, sitting up. Accidental magic served to blast every small item in the room to pieces. The two wizards instinctively put up shields and Harry felt consciousness and independence return to his body.

"Very good… Harry." Harry bolted from the bed and ran for the door. He could hear the wizards following behind him. Voldemort simply laughed and a spell shot past Harry, blasting the wall of the manor and knocking Harry onto his back.

He didn't even have his wand. How could he stand up to them? Bellatrix came out from the room with Narcissa and a twisted and powerful sense of hate coursed through Harry.

She killed Sirius… Sirius was dead because of her! He would kill her… with his own hands!

"My Lord!" Narcissa exclaimed.

Harry jumped on the crazed looking woman, grabbing onto her curly black hair. She screamed and they both toppled to the ground. Harry used his grip to smash her head hard against the carpeted ground. Her head still made satisfying thuds.

It took her a while to react, but once she did she was vicious, taking Harry's attack as permission to do what she wished to him in return. They rolled on the ground, each kneeing, hitting, punching, scratching and doing as much physical damage as possible to each other.

"Sirius was worth fifty of you!" He screamed. She laughed through the cut lip and Harry felt a sharp sheet of metal slice through his skin. She laughed, giggling as she tossed him back and Harry looked down to see a knife protruding from under his ribs.

"Bellatrix… how dare you hurt my protégé?" Voldemort's calm voice resonated in Harry's mind.

He remembered his lessons on blood magic. He reached for the knife, wrapping his hand around it.

"Potter stop!" he heard Snape call out. Harry didn't listen. He ripped out the knife with a loud grunt of pain, ignoring the quick flow of blood that followed.

He took advantage of Bellatrix's frightened expression at Voldemort's reprimanding words. He reached forward and brought the blood stained knife down on whatever part of Bellatrix he could reach. The blade dug into her thigh and she screamed, falling back in pain.

"Sentire dolorem, sentire dolorem, sentire dolorem." He mumbled, repeating the one spell he remembered that didn't need a wand. It was enough.

Bellatrix threw her head back and screamed, twisting and crying worse than any crucio Harry had ever seen. The darkness swirled inside and he laughed instead of cringe. Yet inside he still wanted to cringe.

"Severus, deal with Harry." Voldemort finally said.

Rough hands grabbed Harry by the shoulders and pulled him harshly away from Bellatrix. The moment he was no longer touching the blade the woman's screams cut off and she instantly passed out.

Harry struggled as he was dragged away. Voldemort watched Harry go and laughed, nodding with pride. Harry had done black magic with dark intent. He could still feel the energy under his skin. He could still feel the power.

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Severus pushed Potter down onto the floor of his lab. "Stay still!" He ordered him. The boy's eyes focused on him like those of a caged wild animal. He opened the boy's robes and pulled the torn shirt open. Blood flowed from the cut under his ribs. Somehow she'd missed his heart or he'd be dead already.

Despite the animosity showing in the boy's face, he stayed perfectly still and allowed him to work. The clean cut was easy to heal, though by the time he was done, one more scar remained on the boy's body.

"Come on Potter…" He said forcing the boy to his feet. "I'm getting you out of here."

Voldemort had won. He'd gotten the boy to use dark magic. He'd corrupted him in a way. The brat didn't seem himself yet but it wouldn't make a difference in a ritual like this. He dragged him to the nearest fireplace, not bothering to clean any of the blood. He would get somewhere where he could apparate and get him safely to Grimmauld place.

"Snape, stop… I can't leave." The boy mumbled, grabbing him by the arm and taking a step back before they reached the fireplace. "It's sealed against me!" He insisted.

He turned to look at the boy. He was desperate. He grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to find the words he wanted to say. "I need to get you out of here…"

The boy nodded. "I know… but you can't…" He whispered. The boy turned to the wall briefly and got tangled in Severus' arms. "Let go of me! Let go!" he screamed, struggling against Severus' non-existent hold on him.

Severus realised quickly what he was trying to do and played along. "Get back here!" Severus pulled the boy away from the fireplace as the door opened, revealing the Dark Lord walking in calmly. Avery, Nott and Lucius followed him, wands drawn, ready to attack.

"Now, now Harry. There's no point trying to escape." Voldemort said. "You've done well, allow yourself to be taught. You still feel it don't you? The power under your fingers, the delight at Bellatrix's pain?" Severus let go of the boy as he went still, and saw shame in his expression.

"I don't want to be taught…" Harry whispered.

"Oh but you do." He walked forward pulling the boy to the centre of the room so he could pace around him. "You have a day of independence left in you. You can either spend it learning, or you can take your pick on who you want to… treat you, the same way that muggle did."

Severus felt sick to his stomach at Potter's horrified expression. He felt sick as Voldemort included Severus among Harry's 'choices'. He felt sick at the boy's humiliated expression as he looked down, jaw clenched and flinching away from Voldemort's touch.

"I'll learn…" Harry whispered.

"Good choice. I want you on your knees. Kneel before me."

Potter slowly got down onto his knees and glared up at the Dark Lord when the man smirked.

"Extend your left arm." Severus felt his chest beating painfully and even the other followers looked at each other, unable to believe that the Dark Lord wanted to brand Harry Potter with the Dark Mark.

It was easier for Severus to believe it. Harry only had a day left as himself according to the Dark Lord. He planned to make every remaining minute as humiliating for the boy as possible and all Severus could do was stand here. Like a useless waste of space, watching.

The Dark Lord held the boy's wrist in what looked like a painful grip and placed the tip of his wand on Harry's skin. The boy screamed in pain as the jet black mark became printed on his skin.

Severus did his best to occlude. Did his best to block out the emotion, the anguish at seeing the boy in this position. All to protect him. Severus didn't deserve it. He was nothing. The moment the boy realised the truth about Severus he was going to wish him dead.

It was Severus who told the Dark Lord about the prophecy. It was Severus who practically pointed Lord Voldemort in the baby's direction. And now it was Severus who had allowed the boy to get attached to him enough to throw himself into so much danger just to keep his work as a spy a secret.

There were no words to describe how despicable Severus Snape was. No one knew it better than he did.