"Severus," Voldemort hissed, "how are our Games developing?"
Snape's scowling face didn't change as he answered. "Most excellently, my master. They have just begun, and they are progressing well."
Voldemort paced the Headmaster's office, nodding slowly. "Good, good… and what of Potter?"
"My lord, I do not have any information on him," Snape replied curtly.
Voldemort sighed angrily. "If you receive any information, you shall inform me as soon as possible. Until then, I am going to check on my belongings at Gringotts."
Voldemort pulled out his wand and with a single flick, he was gone. Snape sighed, rubbing his temples. He pulled out his own wand and released the Pensieve from its hiding place. He placed the tip of his wand to his temple, and when he released the wand, a silvery substance that was neither gas nor liquid was drawn from his temple. He waved it over the Pensieve, the substance falling in and swirling with the gas-nor-liquid inside.
Images flashed on the surface, memories from so long ago. Snape took in a deep breath, and then closed his eyes. Where was Potter? Why in Merlin's name was he not here yet with that ginger friend of his and the annoying girl? They should have found all of Voldemort's Horocruxes already, destroyed them all and be saving Hogwarts. He saw Dumbledore's face in the Pensieve, and he thought of that day.
You're raising him as a pig to slaughter.