Hey! There's only three more episodes to go after this one! I'm so excited about the last two:D

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Severus Snape

Snape sat opposite Voldemort looking quite bored by the whole setup. In response to this, Voldemort let his upper lip curl. He never had been a fan of Snape nor the arrogance that could match his own. He was also slightly irritated that Snape was treating the whole affair with his usual blasé attitude. Didn't he know that he was a guest on Britain's most popular show? Didn't he know how high his ratings were and that they had broken viewing records? Didn't he know that he should be privileged? From the yawn that emitted from Snape's mouth he assumed not.

"Severus," Voldemort began, trying to be courteous for his odious guest.

"Tom," Snape replied, slightly sneering.

Voldmort's eyes narrowed. No one called him by that name anymore unless they wanted to be cast into the deepest fires of hell though he assumed Snape had already faced them and by the look of his uncaring composure, he had thought it a bore and not much else. But, really, what didn't bore Severus Snape?

"You look well for some one whose only just been resurrected from death. Tell me, how was hell when you left?"

"I look well because I'm not in my real form. I'm only here for the duration of this little publicity stunt and then I'm going back to my eternal slumber. And believe me, it would have been much kinder to have sent me to hell. Heaven's so dull and dreary-"

"Then surely you're right at home there?"

Snape ignored his comment and continued. "so dull and dreary. Too many people in white when I've never found the colour particularly complimentary to my completion or vastly unsunny disposition."

"Are you positive?" Voldemort enquired innocently. "Becuase I swear with you in this studio its like having a ray of sunshine sitting opposite me."

Snape cocked a bored eyebrow. "I'm sure it is."

Scratching his chin curiously, Voldemort sat back on his chair and observed Snape. "May I ask you a question?"

"Oh. I thought that's what we were here for. I must have been wrong," he replied with a sarcastic smile.

Voldemort chuckled. "Yes. Well, did you invent sarcasm because you've perfected it so well? Surely it must be your first language?"

"Its much better than parseltongue, I assure you. Have you been talking to any more snakes or do you just practise talking to yourself? There's not much of a difference between the two, I assure you."

A nerve on Voldemort's neck twitched uncomfortable as he realised that for once in his entire life he had been beaten in an insult war. The feeling was more uncomfortable and he was quite sure he didn't like it. After this particular show he was going to have a word with the producers. Serious words which may or may not be spells, depending on their replies. He would gladly smite them all and enjoy every moment of it like it was the last moment of joy he would ever feel in his life. Then he would order pizza.

Pushing this thought from his head, he knew that would be tackled with later. Snape was the 'now' and had to be dealt with. Of course the way he would like to deal with him may be frowned upon by viewers with young children watching: to blast him into oblivion. If he was to be the new role model for young witches and wizards everywhere (not his idea nor one which he liked) he couldn't very well have them following his example of their would be an abundance of corpses in every school playground. He would hate to see the lawsuit he would have to face after such an incident occurred. So, with that being a major problem he would have to find some other way to sort Snape out and put him back into his proper place underneath him. Some one had once said to him that words could do so much more harm than physical hurt ever could. Perhaps that would be his answer.

Smiling coyly, he leaned in towards Snape and said, "Tell me, Severus. How's Lily Potter these days? Still choosing James over you?" With delight, he saw the man momentarily lose his composure and it was enough to see he had hit a bull's eye on his nerve. "Or is she her pity finally made her succumb to giving you a chance? Quite the looker, wasn't she? I wouldn't think some one with her beauty would ever even look at some one like you without pity."

He was trembling now and that was a good thing. Voldemort loved to see a man tremble. "Lily was one of my very best friend and indeed one of the only one's I ever had. I won't taint her memory by speaking about her with you." As an afterthought, he added, "And she was also a much better pick than Bellatrix Lestrange."

"That's all depending on one's opinions on what a better pick consists of. But let's move on from this subject before we have a duel on our hands. I want to ask you a question that's on everyone's mind." Snape cocked his head uncertainly and almost dreadingly. "Why is it that your hair is so greasy?" The ex-Hogwart's headmaster did a visible doubletake which made Voldemort wonder if this wasn't what he figured he would be asked, then what was? "There's a great many haircare products for people who have an overdose of oil in their hair like yourself and they don't come at a high price either."

"I would think there are more important things in life than vanity, Voldemort. Such as achieving one's dreams or overthrowing a malicious tryant."

"And for all that I'm sure you were referring to your brief stint as Hogwart's headmaster, yes?"

With anger, Snape quickly replied, "Actually for both accounts there was a referral to you. My dream was to be a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher so that a malicious tyrant like you could be overthrown."

"It must hurt deeply then that it was really Harry Potter who taught the best Defense Against the Dark Arts back when Professor Umbridge tried to rule Hogwarts. The spells which he taught the budding wizards and witched were the ones which stopped me from receiving the prophesy in the Ministry of Magic. Now that I'm pretty much as overthrown as possible, you'll never achieve your dream."

"Considering I'm not going to be bearing this mortal coil for longer than half an hour I knew I wouldn't achieve it anyway. But that's alright because your dream of global domination will never be yours either."

Voldemort let his eyes slide slowly over to Snape. "What would you know about my dreams? In actual fact its not longer global domination but..." He smiled. "It's a secret. A secret which the world will not doubt know come the end of this season."

This comment made Snape uneasy and Voldemort could see it in the way his fist clenched on his lap. "What do you mean?"

Shaking his head, mysteriously, Voldemort replied, "I've given away all I will give away for the time being. Speaking of future plans what will yours be now?"

"To rest in peace," Snape glowered at his host. "Why don't you kill me again? You did so well last time."

"Kill you?" Voldemort asked innocently. "Why, I didn't kill you. It must have been my scarily alike twin brother." He chuckled. "Wouldn't you like to stay alive for just a little while longer? You've been a corpse for so long surely your legs will be in need of a little stretch. You could have the opportunity to visit your favourite haunts, so to speak."

"The world now is too bright for me. I preferred it – and I'm ashamed to say it – back when you were a threat. At least then the sun didn't shine all the time and the Dementors could make the rain fall whenever one was around them."

"Yes, the world was a much darker place during my brief reign. And let's face it, its in the dark when your utmost fantasies come true. You dream your sweetest dreams in the dark, you meet the most romantic strangers in the dark and when no one can see your face, you can be who you want to be in the dark."

Snape regarded him oddly. There were things about the Dark Lord even he didn't know, it seemed. "I never pictured you as the hopeless romantic."

"I'm not. The only thing I've ever loved is the dark. It's when I'm most at peace."

"Then I'm sure that would explain why you love everything about it. The Dark Arts, dark chocolate, dark women..." With this he stared fixedly at his ex-master.

"Dark women?" Voldemort asked curiously. "Just who do you mean about that?"

"I'm sure I don't need to say who I mean by that. It's her evil that attracts you, isn't it? The darkness in her heart reflected in you, adopted because of you. I spoke to her more than anyone else perhaps. She trusted me. She told me things, dark fantasies of hers. Her evil was genuine just was her loyalty. But the darkness she lived in? She loved it because it reminded her of you."

A name whispered on Voldemort's lips so quietly no one could hear it apart from those who knew who it was. "I had no idea."

"She was very good at hiding secrets. She was very good at hiding."

"She died for me. She died to stay by my side to the bitter end. I could in her eyes she knew she was going to die but still she marched into battle, determined to fight on for me and for what I believed in. And it was because of me she believed in it too. You have an affection for her too, don't you?"

Snape shrugged. "We were confidantes to a sense. I helped her, she listened to me. She killed some one I made sure it wasn't me to take the blame. I mean her finest hour must have been Sirius Black. I was very much impressed with her after that stunt. Then Molly Weasley had to go and kill her."

"A Weasley killed Bellatrix? A Weasley?" He gasped in disgust.

"Didn't you know?"

Voldemort was silent for a few moments, barely even moving at all. Then he broke the silence with a quiet and regretful voice. "I need to have some time to think. Thanks for joining me, Snape."

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