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Authors Notes: Thank you. Thank you. Thanks to those who have been following along for a while, and thanks to those who tell me they just discovered the story. Many thanks to those of you who write long reviews, and those who write short reviews. I'm even grateful for those who write no reviews, but are enjoying the story none the less. One reviewer found the idea of the the fake Horcrux being a test unrealistic. My response is on my profile page. I'll leave it up for a few days.

excessivelyperky seriously rocks! Thanks so much for all your hard work.

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Chapter 18

Voldemort

Severus was relieved to discover that it was Bellatrix, and not himself, who was to receive the Cruciatus as he apparated to his place in the Dark Lord's circle. However, that did not stop the man from flinching as the curse found its mark. Snape attempted to look dispassionate as the woman's hard-featured face contorted and her body writhed in pain upon the floor.

Merlin, but the Dark Lord was brutal. Lestrange had probably spent the whole night helping to nurse him back to health, and this was her reward. There was no sign of the healer either. Snape could well imagine what had befallen that unfortunate soul. This was probably Bella's payment for seeing the Dark Lord weakened, Severus realized. And by this logic, Severus knew he would probably come under the cruel attention of his master's wand before the night was out as well, if for no other reason than the Dark Lord would want to demonstrate that his powers had been returned fully. And if Bella's twitching anguish was anything to go by, they had been. The Dark Lord would not be concerned about spineless little Pettigrew, Severus thought, giving the rodent a disdainful glare. Pettigrew would always obey his master, no matter how weakened.

Severus deliberately tried to put aside the fear that the Dark Lord may have seen him through Potter's eyes. It was clear that Potter was not yet being possessed when Severus left him at the beach house. The slightly fearful, anguished eyes that had looked out from the boy's pale face had still been his own, though it had troubled Severus unexpectedly to see them clouded with such pain. That the boy's scar bled was particularly disturbing. Severus had stared at it in awe when Potter had rescued Draco. The boy had to bloody well learn how to Occlude and that was all there was too it, Snape thought with determination. Hopefully the Dark Lord would be reluctant to possess Potter so soon after having had the boy turn things on him so unexpectedly the last time.

Severus realized abruptly that he had better heed his own advice and curb his thoughts. Though his mind was well Occluded, it paid to be especially careful. He still feared, as he always did when summoned to the Dark Lord's circle, that this time his treachery had somehow been discovered.

Circle was perhaps a misnomer for the arrangement of the followers. For it was in fact many circles that spiraled outward as they widened, and the Death Eaters apparated to positions according to rank. Severus was part of the inner circle along with Pettigrew and Bellatrix. The inner circle and those on the outskirts were made conspicuous today by those who were absent, Severus noticed. He dared to look around, drowning out Bella's piteous wails with effort. There were numerous empty spots. In the inner circle Groggier and LaMonde were missing. They had moved forward in ranks after the arrests of Malfoy and Nott. All four were in Azkaban now, after the disastrous attack on Privet Drive, Severus realized.

The Dark Lord gave his wand one last menacing twirl in Lestrange's direction, and then lifted it with a satisfied flick. He held it in an oddly dainty manner as he turned his menacing gaze on Snape.

"Bella was being chastised," the Dark Lord explained to Snape, "for suggesting that you would have forgotten to join us, as many of our comrades seem to have done." The Dark Lord hissed, indicating the empty spots in the inner circle in particular. So this was the cause of his anger. Severus could not determine by his tone if he already had been informed of the failed raid on Privet Drive.

"I am very pleased to see you, Master," Snape filled his voice and mind with a feeling of joy and relief as he approached and knelt to kiss the hem of the Dark Lord's robes. Severus hated this ritual most of all, as the hem of his master's robes seemed to be perpetually crusted with bits of filth. Severus did not bother putting aside the dread that he himself would no doubt be chastised before the night was over, as he touched the revolting fabric to his thin lips. The Dark Lord relished in feeling the fear of others, and Snape used this to his advantage whenever possible. However, it was always a delicate balance, for neither did one want to appear too weak. Severus let the fear of possible punishment ripple just on the surface of his thoughts as the Dark Lord caressed the back of his head with a slimy affectionate gesture.

"Have you nothing to report, my dear Severusss?" Voldemort hissed, indicating the man could stand. "Perhaps you have information as to why we are so few?"

"I do, my master," Snape admitted, bracing himself. "There was an unauthorized attack at Harry Potter's home last night, and perhaps thirty of our number were captured and taken to Azkaban. Groggier and LaMonde, were among them," he explained, indicating the two empty spaces in the inner circle.

"And you know of this how?" the Dark Lord questioned angrily.

"I regret that I ventured to Privet Drive without your permission my master," Snape stated apologetically. "I went to see if I could discover the whereabouts of Nagini and young Malfoy." Snape had prepared this lie ahead of time, and he was careful to mention Nagini first, as though she were the more important of the two.

"And did you find her?" the Dark Lord apparently could not have cared less about Malfoy.

"Before I had an opportunity to explore thoroughly, the dark mark was set off in front of Potter's home, and approximately thirty of our number apparated to that location," Snape reported factually.

"You had no knowledge of this action beforehand?" Voldermort demanded threateningly.

"I did not, my master," Snape replied, trying to appear appalled by the behavior of the others. "They were quickly met by slightly superior forces which included Potter and Draco Malfoy, whom I suspect may have been under the Imperious curse.

"Malfoy fought against us?" the Dark Lord spat dangerously. Apparently forgetting momentarily that it was an unauthorized raid.

"The boy was not operating of his own free will. It was quite obvious, my lord," Snape said adopting an air of confidence. "His demeanor. His reflexes."

"And did you join the fight, Severuss?" The Dark Lord hissed dangerously.

"I did but briefly, my lord," Snape affirmed, expecting a curse at any moment. "I thought perhaps to capture Potter and force him to reveal the whereabouts of Nagini." Severus thought it safest to stick to the snake story "And of course I would have brought them both to you, my master, unharmed if I were able."

"Yet you failed?" the Dark Lord accused.

"Forgive me, Master. The opposition redoubled their efforts, when one of their number was struck down by an Killing Curse." Snape explained. "When they began binding people for transport to Azkaban I fled."

"You fled?" this seemed to make the Dark Lord angrier still. Snape attempted to adjust his lie accordingly.

"I did, my master," Snape replied earnestly. "My main concern was for Nagini. So I apparated nearby and concealed myself until it was safe to continue my search. I regret I was unable to recover her." Snape managed to sound very regretful.

"Are any of those who participated here now?" Voldemort demanded in a tone Snape found chilling. "Point them out," the Dark Lord ordered. "They shall be dealt with immediately."

Snape reluctantly scanned the outer circles again. He spied two of his former Slytherins in the apprentice circle. A twin boy and girl, Noble and Royal Monroe, who had been three years ahead of Draco, had definitely been at Potters' house. Bloody dunderheads. Snape fixed them with his best, I'll deal with you later, Head-of-House glare. It was always thought that Snape was lenient with his Slytherins because he never took points and rarely gave detentions. However, any student who belonged to his house could tell stories of the humiliating tedium of the Potions Master's in house punishments. Depending on the offense, an unlucky snake might find themselves confined to their dorm room all weekend, or on their hands and knees scrubbing the common room flooring. These had been two of his most brilliant students in Potions and then Defense. Snape had not uttered a word to either of them since they took the Mark at the beginning of summer. He let his glare rest menacingly on the two for a moment before moving on.

"No one that I remember my lord," Snape lied as he turned back to face the Dark Lord. "I remained near Potter's home until a short time ago, long after the battle, hoping to recover Nagini." Snape continued, trying to fill in any gaps in his story, and impress upon the Dark Lord his diligence in trying to recover the snake. "I overheard Potter's Muggle relatives saying the boy was gone. My guess is Nagini and Malfoy are with him." Severus sounded indignant. "Merlin only knows how he intends to use them both."

"Nagini is dead, my Severusss," the Dark Lord declared with certainty. Snape wondered for a moment if he had seen through the charade.

"I am sorry, Master." Severus thought perhaps agreement was the safest course.

"I have a theory as to why Potter took Malfoy," and here the Dark Lord grinned nastily. "Do you wish to hear of it, my Severuss?"

"Of course my Lord," Serverus settled for a response that was a delicate mix of enthusiasm and fear.

"I believe our young Mr. Potter is incapable of watching anyone he knows personally suffer pain. And previous hatred matters not." The man's smile grew nastier. "He finds suffering intolerable and if he is able he will interfere."

"I'm not certain I understand, my lord." Severus feared he understood all too well.

"Ah but you will Serverusss. You will," Voldemort hissed menacingly. And if Potter interferes this time we shall be ready. Is that not so?" He indicated Bella and Wormtail. Bella had not yet fully recovered from being cursed, but seemed greatly heartened by the prospect of up coming events.

"We shall, my lord," the two replied in unison

"Leave us!" the Dark Lord ordered all but Severus, Wormtail and Bella. "But be warned," he snarled, as they rushed to obey. "Any further unauthorized activity will be punished most severely."

His followers hastened to disapparate.

"Crucio," the Dark Lord hissed a laugh as he began. And though Severus did not scream or fall to his knees right away, he did begin to twitch.

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Harry brought his head up with a start, and the cool towel that Snape had placed there, fell to his chest. With a sickening feeling he watched through eyes that were suddenly not his own, as Snape was held under the Cruciatus for a insanely long time. Harry was first amazed that the man did not fall, but at last he did and his deep guttural screams seemed to becoming from inside Harry's head. I've got to go to him, Harry thought and gripped the Angelth trying to push aside his promise and forcing resolve to take shape.

He felt overwhelming concern and another, deeper emotion he could not quite identify, and if he could , he would not have applied it to Snape. Harry had the impression of spiky tendrils reaching into his consciousness and cautiously tasting his emotions, and suddenly he felt a feeling of triumph and excitement that were not his own well deep in his chest. Occlude your mind, Potter! How many times had Harry heard that? This time it was not Snape's voice but his own stern impression of the Potions Master.

What had Graydian Crawlenton's book said? It was all about emotion. Harry had read Protecting the Mind his first week home along with two others on Occlumency. He had cast a concealment charm on Snape's notations, which were extremely personal and frankly embarrassing. Much of the book made no sense. It did not remotely resemble anything Snape tried to teach him. Harry would not have bothered reading it at all had the Headmaster not suggested the book was a good one. Crawlenton spoke of gentle sympathetic Occlumency pathways, and the trust and love between a student and teacher. None of it made sense in the context of Snape's harshly uttered Legillimens that was akin to raping Harry's mind, leaving him broken and battered on the dungeon floor.

However, Crawlenton's discussion of emotion was informative. After reading the book and the others on the subject, Harry noticed that he began to unintentionally Legillimize Mrs. Figg and his muggle relatives. Snape had said it was because he was a natural Legillimens the night he had caught Harry training in the Figg garden. Harry hadn't known how to take that, and was afraid to ask, since he had actually enjoyed talking to Snape about his training. Snape had even praised him, which was odd but it had made Harry feel unexpectedly pleased, as had the praise Snape had offered when showing Harry to his room in the beach house.

When Harry was with his relatives or Mrs. Figg, he found that he was able to push their unwanted thoughts out of his mind by muting his emotions. It was by feeling anger at his relatives or deep appreciation for Mrs. Figg that allowed the words, "Ungrateful freak," or "What a dear boy," to travel unbidden into his mind. It was always emotion that had allowed Voldemort to enter Harry's mind as well. Negative emotions like with his relatives. And thus far it had been positive emotions that allowed him to push Voldemort out. Harry wondered if the muting technique would do any good or if that just worked with Muggles.

With a slightly frustrated air Harry tried to put his finger on the phantom emotion he seemed to feel for Snape just now. It was similar to what he felt for Draco during the rescue. That was how Harry had attacked Voldemort's mind. On some vague level Harry understood that the emotion he felt for Draco had been connected to Snape as well. Harry had not been able to bear the thought of Snape being forced to curse Draco. He continued to watch in his mind's eye as the man writhed on the floor and Harry's heart literally ached.

Then he felt the spiky tendrils again, and the feeling of victory more pronounced than it was before. Harry pondered the intruder emotion, seeming to poke at it with tendrils of his own. Unlike previous encounters, Voldemort seemed pleased to feel this positive emotion. Harry allowed himself to feel the emotion more fully this time. His mind filled with a deep painful concern for Snape. It was unmistakable, the triumph and joy that filled his heart had a distinctly predatory feel, and his scar began to bleed freely. This was something new. Why was Voldemort enjoying this? Was it a trap, like with Sirius? As much as Harry had deliberately allowed the concern in, he now purposefully pushed it out. Suddenly the triumph and joy were gone as well, as though they had been deliberately sucked out with a vacuum.

The first thing Harry noticed was that his scar ceased to bleed. After a couple of wipes with the towel his hand came away clean. With clear thinking deliberation Harry made his way to the potions lab which Snape had pointed to on the tour of the house. Oddly enough he had not forbidden Harry to go in there, but Harry knew it would hardly stop him if he had. Looking at the books that lined the shelves, Harry dispassionately found one that might contain a potion for the effects of the Cruciatus.

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Voldemort lowered his wand and it was clear he intended to rest for a moment. Perhaps he was not as recovered as it appeared, Snape thought hopefully from his pain riddled heap on the floor.

"I thought I had the boy for a moment," Voldemort explained in frustration. He addressed his concerns to Snape as well as Bella and Pettigrew, as though they had all come up with this brilliant plan together.

"He hates me, my lord," Snape stated from his shattered heap from the floor.

"He felt love for you a moment ago, Severusss," Voldemort hissed.

For all his pain, Snape gave his master a rather impertinent, incredulous look.

"It's true such emotions are foreign to me," the Dark Lord said as though defending himself. "I can clearly sense his hatred of you as I could his hatred of Malfoy, but at the same time he does not want you to be hurt." The Dark Lord gave Severuss an intent stare. "How do you explain these conflicting emotions?" he demanded.

"I cannot my lord," Severus wheezed.

Voldemort looked at the man as though he were a botched potion.

"Crucio," he barked petulantly.

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After filling four vials with the completed Cruciatuserum, Harry was uncertain how to proceed. Entering Snape's bedroom, he carefully placed the vials on his night table, as though having them ready would cause the man to return. He was afraid to risk speaking to Dumbledore via the Angelth with Voldemort experimenting with something new. It had been an incredible risk when Harry had spoken to Dumbledore about wanting to rescue Draco, even though he had spoken with the Angelth facing away from him.

"You contacted me while you are being possessed?" The Headmaster had asked with dark incredulity. And though Harry could not see his face, he was certain the man had not been smiling.

It was difficult to believe that was just last night, Harry thought as he sat down on the Potion Master's bed, repositioning the vials of potion on the night table. The Headmaster was probably cross with him, Harry realized, as he had disobeyed him about going to get Draco. Yet another good reason for not using the Angelth, Harry thought as he looked around Snape's room. The spacious chamber was much like his own only the walls were adorned with well stocked bookshelves. The highest shelves held decorative vials that Harry would have guessed were antiques.

Harry's gaze halted suddenly. In the center of the shelf that held the vials was a pensieve. Harry swung his head abruptly to the desk he noticed on his way in the room. There sat the square vial of Nagini's memories that he had given to Snape this morning.

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The Dark Lord was emotionally inept, Snape thought, as the man stopped between curses to again ask how someone could feel love and hate at the same time. This had been going on for the better part of two hours. The curses were getting weaker and the man's breathing was becoming labored. Not that he hadn't caused Snape substantial damage before his energy had began to flag.

The Dark Lord thought emotions were straight forward, which was essentially how Severus had been able to remain as a spy all these years. It was simple for Severus to present him with the honest emotion of hating the Headmaster, but the Dark Lord would never understand the human complexity that would allow love to exist at the same time to an often greater degree.

It was this very ignorance that had caused the Dark Lord to murder Severus' parents when he was eighteen, and present their deaths to the young man as though they were a gift. Severus had been far too casual about allowing the Dark Lord to see the hatred of his parents in his mind.

The Dark Lord was a master Legillemens and Occlumens and made sure all new apprentices were tutored in this skill by either himself or their sponsors. As Lucius' father, Abraxas, had never been adept at this skill, the Dark Lord saw to the tutelage of the two promising young apprentices personally.

The brutally cast Legillemens that seemed to scour his mind for secrets until his sense of survival forced him to defend himself was a far cry from the gentle intimacy of the instruction Albus had provided. Severus did not know how he would have fared under the Dark Lord's teaching had he not already been a master of the skill. There were certain things he allowed the man to see, and his hatred of his parents was one of them. The Dark Lord delighted in images of small Severus being beaten with a belt or other object. His favorite seemed to be the one where Tobias had almost killed young Snape when the boy was caught using magic. Severus lay awake most of that night wishing both his parents dead.

Severus knew he had been mistaken in allowing the Dark Lord to indulge himself in this memory, the night he and his followers had apparated to the small Muggle house in Spinner's End where Severus was born and raised. The young man watched and did nothing as his parents fell in a horrible flash of green light.

The Dark Lord embraced Severus, while whispering in his ear.

"You are my child now," the Dark Lord asserted.

Severus thanked him sincerely, while declaring in his own mind.

"I am not!" in fierce denial.

For there was only one person he was a child of now. It was during the months when the Headmaster wasn't speaking to him. Serverus was unsure if he would be seen, and indeed the Headmaster made to turn him away as he approached the castle doors, having run all the way from Hogsmeade.

"Father, Please," Severus said breathlessly before his pride could stop him. It was only occasionally the young man called the Headmaster this, and it was usually when Albus was being unreasonably stern and Severus was feeling vulnerable.

Though the boy was eighteen, the night found him crying piteously in to the softness of the Headmaster's beard.

"Forgive me," he whispered again and again.

The Headmaster insisted that he already had been forgiven, and assured Severus he was loved while gently stroking the raven hair.

"I am not his child," Severus stated defiantly from his place against Albus' broad chest.

"No. You are mine," Albus confirmed, laying a gentle kiss on the dark head. "It has always been so."

The next morning found Severus asleep on a couch just outside the Headmaster's bed chamber with a warm blanket tucked up around his chin. He sat up gingerly and noticed that the Headmaster's door was ajar. He stood and began to fold the blanket and noticed with a start the Headmaster was standing in the doorway.

"Good morning, Severus," the old wizard had greeted, pulling his dressing gown around his tall frame.

"Good morning, Headmaster," the younger man returned shakily, not quite meeting the older wizard's eyes. Severus had wondered desperately if last night had simply been a truce. Albus had been punishing him and deservedly so he realized now more that ever. Severus could not believe he had ever threatened to join Voldemort in earnest.

"I'll earn back your trust," the boy promised tentatively when he plucked up the courage to meet the clear blue eyes.

"Yes, you will, Child," the Headmaster replied in a way that was stern, full of love, and a bit of an order really.

"Yes sir," Severus said, swallowing hard as he turned to go. "Thank you, Headmaster," he said opening the door and was gone.

How could the Dark Lord understand the complexity of this? Severus thought in the here and now, as he struggled to regain his knees. The Dark Lord failed to realize that a little boy wishing his parents dead would not enjoy watching them murdered.

The Dark Lord's curses were most definitely weakening and it was giving Severus the chance to recuperate. Real recovery would probably be several potions and a good nights sleep away, Severus thought ruefully, as he was racked again by spasms against the ground.

It was the complexity of human emotion that allowed Severus to cement his status with the Dark Lord after the death of Dumbledore. It was ridiculously easy for Snape to show the Dark Lord his hatred of the Headmaster for what the man had ordered him to do. It was also what had allowed Snape to cast the curse in the first place. In the moments before Albus had died, Severus had absolutely loathed the Headmaster for forcing him to take such an action. No matter how much they had discussed it, and how much the Headmaster considered it a major step in the Dark Lord's defeat. But at the same time it was Severus love and devotion that made it possible for him to animate the Angelth.

The Dark Lord would never comprehend. Severus had this thought for the fiftieth time as the Dark Lord rested between Crucios and asked him how it was possible to love and hate at the same time.

"I don't believe it is, my lord." Snape decided to respond instead of the standard I don't know he had been sticking with for the past two hours. "It was a brilliant plan, my lord. I wish the brat had shown up. But truly, Potter hates me, and I don't think it is possible to feel love and hate at the same time," Snape stated in innocent contemplation.

The Dark Lord looked dumbfounded.

"Have you ever heard of it, Pettigrew?" Snape asked the rodent.

"No..." Pettigrew began uncertainly. "No, I haven't," the rodent asserted stupidly, looking from Snape to Voldemort. Snape silently awarded points to Gryffindor.

"Your magic is weakened, my lord," Snape dared respond as the Potions Master gained his knees with maximum effort. The Dark Lord looked angered by Snape's impertinent assertion, though he did not look surprised. Snape adopted a look of pure concern.

"Master, you are not well?" Bella asked in anxiety. Snape could hardly believe it after the Cruciatus the man had dealt her earlier. Perhaps she was just pretending, like he was, the man speculated. But then again, Bellatrix was insane.

"Is the healer still about?" Snape inquired knowing full well the answer.

"Master told me to kill him," Pettigrew breathed, looking at the Dark Lord as though he feared he would be punished for it later.

"What were the potions he was given?" Snape was fairly certain they would not have thought to inquire about the potions. He was not disappointed by the dumb expressions on the three faces. He would have laughed if he were not sure he would cough up blood.

"I didn't think to..." Bella stopped herself as though realizing she was taking the blame.

"Well," Snape began, and was racked by spasms before he could continue. "Perhaps you should assist Master to his chambers. Rest will undoubtedly help." Bella and the rodent moved to comply. "Have I your permission to go and heal myself, my lord?" Severus asked as Pettigrew cast a stretcher charm. The Dark Lord acquiesced with a weak nod.

"Regain your strength, my lord," Snape said as though sure it was a temporary set back.

"I will be intent on doing so, Severusss," the Dark Lord hissed, as they bore him down the corridor.

"Your faithful servant, my lord," Snape called after him as the three disappeared from sight.

Let them bloody well figure it out, Snape thought to himself. Feeling far to weak to apparate, he firmly grasped the Angelth.

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