Chapter 19

The dream:

The great room, with the high, coloured glass windows, was brightly light, yet it was filled with an atmosphere of threatening darkness. All light was being pushed back into submission, making it lose all its strength to enlighten the place. To one end of the long, big room sat a tall figure with a face that bore hardly any resemblance to a human's.

Long spidery fingers curled around the armrest of a hefty, throne-like chair, as it's occupant leaned forward to glare with distain at the figure curled in a foetal position at his feet. At the side of the cowering man in grey trousers and shirt stood another man, who had long, silvery-white hair. Lucius Malfoy held his head high, but his eyes rested with contempt on the fallen wizard at his feet.

"Stand up and look at me, Severus."

The man on the floor seemed not to have heard the words at first. He didn't react for several minutes, until he finally moved and manoeuvred himself awkwardly, as if in great pain, into a kneeing position.

Just as he lifted his upper body off the marble ground and manoeuvred it into an upright position, a deep, wheezing cough stopped him. In agony, he brought his hand up to grasp the shirt over his chest, as the spasm shook his body.

When he finally managed to rise to his knees, and the coughing subsided, his eyes were still lowered and he gasped raggedly for breath.

"Severus, Severus", Voldemort reprimanded in a low voice. "Azkaban has not done you any good, as I see." A vicious smile grew around his thin, translucent lips. "That's good."

Severus Snape didn't answer as he was still occupied with getting enough oxygen into his bloodstream.

"I told you to look at me", Voldemort hissed, now angry, lifting his hand slightly in a silent order. Lucius instantly gripped a handful of Snape's hair, brutally pulling the potions master's head up, all the while being unable to ban the disgust from his face, as he was forced to touch the greasy, filthy and dishevelled hair.

Snapes eyes were wide open now. He was drawing heavy, ragged breaths through slightly opened lips. Still, his eyes focused on the man, who now rose graciously from his chair, crouching down, only a few centimetres in front of him. His red, inhuman eyes were at the same level as those of the potions master.

"My dear Severus. My most competent man for anything related to potions", Voldemort whispered in a mock, caring voice. "You have helped me so much over the years, yet you also betrayed me, did you not?" Whilst speaking, Voldemort pulled out his wand. "Crucio!"

The sick man was thrown backwards several meters by the sheer force of the magic that hit him from such close proximity. Once his body came to a stop, he started to writhe and twitch under the hellish agony. The gurgling, yelping sounds that left his throat were hardly recognisable as screams. Snape had simply not enough air left in his lungs to scream.

Voldemort was apparently aware of his former death eater's condition as well and held the curse no longer than a few seconds. Yet, that was enough to leave Snape gasping and almost unconscious, his body still twitching under occasional spasms.

"Enervate!" Voldemort shouted and a small groan left Snape's throat. The dark lord stood again and came over to the fallen man. "You have spied for Dumbledore."

Snape nodded. He didn't seem able to vocalize any words any more. "And you have killed Sirius Black," Voldemort continued in a lurking voice.

Snape tried to collect himself a bit but when the he heard the name of his childhood nemesis, a small chuckle escaped him, the sound ending in another coughing fit. "No big loss", he finally croaked.

"It is said that he was one of my men, which would mean that you have killed a fellow death eater, which will make you be executed on the spot. I hope you are aware of that."

This time, Snape stifled a chuckle but a twisted smirk appeared on his face. "He was no deatheater. He has told me himself."

"And if he was my spy to get information on Dumbledore? He would have denied any connection to me?"

Snape only shrugged, insinuatingly. "Then you would kill me now, which will not make a big difference because you will do it anyway, eventually."

"Why did you kill him?"

Snape's smirk broadened and a strange gleam shone in his eyes. "He was annoying me."

If Voldemort had had eyebrows, they would probably have shot up at this statement. As it was, only his eyes widened in surprise. "He was annoying you?"

"I think he had fleas and he left his hair everywhere."

Voldemort didn't answer that. "And what if he were indeed my spy?"

"Unimportant. He was simply annoying."

"Severus, will you tell us what you know about the order?" Voldemort asked, his voice drawling.

Snape looked straight into Voldemort's reddish eyes and the glimmer in his own disappeared again. "Why should I? You will kill me anyway."

Voldemort smiled. "Indeed, yet your death would be fast and painless. And who knows? If the information you give is valuable enough, then I may just leave you alive for as long as you prove useful to me."

The dark lord paused for a moment, musing about some inner thoughts, before he kneeled down to the crumbled wizard, grapping his shoulders and helping him into a sitting position. His voice morphed into soft, caring tones. The sound of a parent's voice, worried for their frightened child. "Severus, if you had one free wish, before I kill you, what would it be? Tell me."

Snape lifted his head again and answered, slightly panting and hoarsely. Still there was a sharp edge to his voice. "I want justice, which I never had. Revenge for a life, which I was never able to live. I have worked for you, my lord. I have done my best, given everything and was merely used. Then I have worked for Dumbledore and was betrayed in recompense!"

In a split second, the sharp edge vanished and Snape's voice became almost whining. "I want my soul back and for once in my life I want to be wanted, not just used. I want to do what I would like and not what others expect me to do. I never want to be used or betrayed again."

Voldemort regarded the pathetic, slumped thing, which once had been a proud wizard, but was now panting again. Snape was neither upset nor whining; it was as if the last few moments of his confession had never happened.

The dark lord's lips curled into a sadistic grin and he pulled Snape carefully towards himself, hugging the other wizard gently. "I will give you your life and your revenge. Nobody will use you again, my Severus." The dark lord was still smiling as he pulled out his wand, holding it against Snape's temple, whispering: "Dormus."

Almost gently, he laid the now sleeping wizard back to the ground and stood up.

"Lucius, see to it that he's cleaned up and healed." His smile broadened and became somewhat more evil. "It may appear as if we have a new member."

"My Lord", Malfoy begun. He hesitated, as if he were deciding if any objection were worth the risk of a crucio, but he then took a deep breath, gathering his resolve and spoke. "I am certain that you have your reasons, my Lord, but is it not dangerous to have him here with us? He admitted it himself. He has spied for Dumbledore. Besides it is obvious that he's not really sane anymore."

Voldemort studied him for a long time as if he were debating with himself if he should punish his death eater for his insolence or explain his own reasons, decided upon the later then.

"It was to expect that Snape's twisted situation would make him crack sooner or later. He's a human being and every human being has a self-conscience and some fundamental needs. They want to be accepted. Snape was mistrusted and had to guard himself constantly against both sides. The only one who had ever shown him the slightest hint of personal interest has been Dumbledore. However, the old fool had practically chased him into my arms before, when he had wiped off the slate that incident with Black, all those years ago. If it hadn't been for that, our dear potions master would never have joined us. It's not in him – he had too strong a conscience. But Snape is a proud man, and that night, in which he had nearly been killed, his pride had been treated like dirt. Dumbledore, somehow, has managed to restore Snape's trust in him, but the jar of trust has since then been cracked. Now it has shattered into thousands of shards. Snape may be a bit insane now, but he is also quite malleable. I give him what he wants, and he will stop at nothing for me. He has certain talents and a knowledge that may prove to be helpful. He is much more valuable living than dead. Now go, and make sure that he's being taken care of. Then return home. The ministry will surely come to question you shortly."

Voldemort's voice had a finality to it, which stole all further doubts from Malfoy. He bowed briskly, pulled his wand and pointed it at Snapes prone body. He levitated the unconscious wizard and let him float behind him out of the room.

Only after the door had fallen close behind them, leaving Voldemort back alone, the latter laughed out loud. "Two to one, my dear Albus. You did it again, chasing Severus into my arms, and I swear to you that this time I will not make any mistakes."

Harry jerked out of his sleep, drenched in sweat, Voldemorts diabolic laughter still echoing in his ears.

T.B.C.