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Of Blood and Magic
Epilogue: Subtleties
The Dark Mark burned as he walked to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds and outside of the anti-Apparition wards that shielded the school. It was a pain that Snape had not felt in years, a pain that he had hoped to never feel again.
Destination. Determination. Deliberation. It had been decades since he had needed to think about the 'Three D's", as his Appariton instructer had called them, on anything higher than a subconscious level, but working through the basics helped him find the odd calm necessary for the task ahead. Just before the spell took hold, he felt his usual stoic and unfeeling mask settle into the lines of his face.
The worst and most ingenious part of the Dark Mark's magic was that the destination Snape envisioned could be anywhere and it would make no difference. When the Mark burned as it did now, the magic in it would pull its host to meet its caster the moment he or she Apparated. Until the magic was deactivated by the Dark Lord's presence, he could not use Apparition to escape. For most Death Eaters it was quite convenient. It meant they had no need to know where their Dark Lord was, but they could be by his side in a heartbeat. For Snape, it was a hinderance and a detail to remember should this twisted game he played go sour.
When the world righted itself, he found himself standing at the edges of a graveyard. Broken headstones littered the ground. Patches of grass were torn up or burnt. Ih the center of cleared space sat a sizeable cauldron, large enough for a grown man to curl inside. As he walked near, he sniffed the air. He had always possessed an excellent sense of smell, a trait quite beneficial for a Potions Master. It took a moment for his mind to filter through the various scents to identify the ingredients and the combined scent that would be the potion itself.
Ah, so he used that. It was an old magic, more ritual than spell, the base of which was one of the few potions that required a copious amount of unicorn blood.
He filed that thought behind one of the innermost shields in his mind, absentmindedly taking the opportunity to check that all of his usual occlumency shields were in place.
As a precaution he added an extra layer to his outermost shield and the one beneath it. The Dark Lord was not going to be pleased when he saw Snape and it would be best that the true reasons of his delay were not revealed.
He walked further, and was slightly surprised by the sight that greeted him. The Dark Lord was seated on a headstone near the edge of the graveyard. His posture was bent, almost contemplative and there was a distinctly distracted air to his movements. A glint of silver flashed in the Dark Lord's hands and caught Snape's eye. Had the Dark Lord gotten a new wand? No, it wasn't a wand, he could see it more clearly now. It was a silvery chain, a delicate thickness, like that of a necklace. The slightly larger flattened shape of silver near one end further supported the necklace theory. Snape was curious, but kept his face impassive, he had been doing this too long to be undone by something as simple as curiosity.
It was time he announced himself. "My lord?"
Red eyes darted up to meet his. Snape held the gaze, his shields holding. With respect he did not feel, Snape bowed low from the waist, breaking eyecontact before it became a contest of wills.
Voldemort hissed, shoving the silvery chain roughly into a pocket of his robes. To a less trained eye, the action would have appeared careless as if the matter was of no import. But, Snape had been playing this game for a long time, and he knew better than to judge things based on appearances. It was what did not happen that frequently revealed far more than what did.
Voldemort had not tossed the item away or discarded it in another manner. He had kept it, stowing it in one of the deeper pockets of his robes so that it would not be lost or damaged. He also had not continued to handle it. Whatever it was, it was or symbolized something the Dark Lord coveted and did not wish to be shared.
All of this was fully considered and filed away behind layers of mental shielding before Shape had fully straightened from his bow.
"Severus," The Dark Lord's voice was dangerously smooth, "Would you care to explain your tardiness?"
A/N: Well, that's the end of 'Of Blood and Magic' but just the start of our story. Many thanks go to those who have reviewed as I was writing this. You have both inspired and motivated me. Thank you, Sugar-high Pixie, jasmine, gamingbookworm, obsessivesyndrome, ironingman, hobbs3, Amethyst Moonshadow, EverMindTheRuleOfThree, Single-Black-Rose, Calmarea, rynn, Orpheus Thanatos Messiah, Noc007, and Allen Pitt. Some of you have stuck with me the whole way, and I am grateful for your patience concerning my rather slow updates.
Thanks also go to those of you who have put this story on favorite or alert lists. Also those of you who have simply read and enjoyed. If anyone reading this gets this far who hasn't enjoyed this (hey, you never know, it could happen) thanks for giving it a chance.
One last thing: this is only the first installment in a series. Keep your eyes out for the sequel "Of Blood and Deceit"