XII

Severus walked the halls, angry with himself because of what he had done. It was against his morals. He had yet again healed his number one enemy. He was beginning to wonder when this would finally end. It was all too much for him. Taking care of bloody Potter—this was not supposed to be part of it. Oh sod it; life never works in my favor…

As he entered the Slytherin common rooms he felt the air around him sink; a cold breeze tingled on his skin. He thought nothing of it. Yet the further he travelled into the room, the stronger the feeling became. No sounds were there, not even the breath of life, or the last few gasps of death. The absence was strange to say in the least, but everything in this world could be considered strange.

Goosebumps formed on his skin; his hairs stood on end. Without turning, he looked from one side of the room to the other—nothing. He began to reach down for his wand: A loud crack erupted through the room. A green light sped toward him. Undeniably, the first syllable of the word "Crucio" sored through the air bitterly like a sour note played on the wrong beat. There was no time. He placed his hand out, nonverbally blocking the spell. He flicked his wand out of his robes. Several more times the spell sped toward him.

"You blithering idiots, come out from your hiding spot. I know you stole Potter's bloody cloak, which was an easy thing for even you to do." He waited, but his attackers had not come out from their spot. "Petrificus Totalus." He pointed his wand toward the corner behind the black and silver drapes of a large window. The bodies of Avery and Mulciber fell out of the cloak, leaving only parts of their bodies invisible. Pitiful, Slytherins are meant to be cunning. What has it been reduced to? An idiot and an imperioused buffoon—how disappointing!

Getting bored of the motionless bodies, he called a house-elf. It ran up eagerly to him. "What would Master Severus like today?" The house-elf was barely two feet tall, with large heliotrope colored eyes, pale greyish pink skin and bat-like ears, which were smaller than most house-elves had. She smiled up at him happily. "Master Severus?" Her voice was high, but not squeaky like the others.

"Could you please get me some Earl Grey tea?" House elves were one of the few things in the wizarding world that didn't aggravate him. Oddly, he found them to be one of the most human-like creatures in the world. Their hearts were certainly large enough to make them human.

"Yes, right away Master Severus!" She sped away and disappeared; running through the wall she entered a room which only house elves had access to. She raced back, a silver tray with a grey and white teapot, and three white teacups sitting atop it. "Master?" She looked up at him respectfully, in the process belittling herself. He motioned for her to set the tray on the black coffee table in front of them.

He noticed the extra cups. "Tibby, would you like to sit down?" He patted the soft cushion next to him. "You have been working hard today. You deserve a break."

"But master Severus!" She instantly worried about him. She expected something to be wrong with him: Perhaps he was turning senile prematurely? "Are you okay Master Severus?" He looked well. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Or at least, in his mind it wasn't.

"Tibby you deserve a break. Now, please sit down beside me, relax and drink some tea. It is not impossible. This is an order," he resulted to his least favorite way of offering a moment of relaxation to a house-elf. She sat down beside him gingerly, hoping that he would find work for her to do. "Now," he began, "How do you like your tea Tibby?"

"But the other masters—the tea is for them! I shouldn't. It is improper. I am only a house-elf! I am meant to serve, not to be served to! Master Severus are you well today?" She continued chanting the words of protest.

"Yes I am fine. How do you like your tea?" He was growing impatient. He poured the tea into the two cups as the house-elf entered a quiet state of awe. He opted, putting the same amount of sugar and milk into each. He handed her the cup and as soon as she grabbed hold of it her arm shook the cup. He sat against the couch.

"You must relax Tibby." She did as she was told. "I need you to do something for me. As long as you agree to it, I believe it will be quite successful." He casually sipped his tea.

"Yes, anything for Master Severus!"

"Good, I need you to listen. Do not miss a word." She shook her head violently, and then took a sip of tea, hiccupping slightly after the warm liquid travelled down her throat. "Once Avery and Mulciber wake up I will need you to run out of the room, as if you were out to complete a vitally important order. Do you understand?" She shook her head once. "Very well. I will be yelling things at you, but they will not be kind words. I do not want you to listen to the words I yell at you. They will be nothing, but a lie."

"I understand Master, but why will be I doing this?" At the question she nearly flung herself, because of her impertinent curiosity. "Bad elf!" She yelled her voice even higher and now squeaky.

"No Tibby, you must not do that around me. It is forbidden." She sat back up on the couch reluctantly. It was difficult for her to accept the new rules he had established for her. "Now to answer your question: It is because they are being terrible, childish and immature children who don't know impressive theatrical skills when they see it. In addition, it is because I need to. I cannot tell you for what reason, but if I were to do something against the pureblood method I would be sent many steps back."

"But why? I don't understand?" She was woeful.

"They are purebloods, and because of their self-imposed glory I must belittle myself in their presence. But before I do so, I need them to respect me. The easiest way is to treat a house-elf just as they do…though I assure you I am not fond of treating them as such." He cautiously had said it, well aware that there was not a chance that anyone had heard him, aside from Tibby.

"Your blood is purer than any pureblood's," she uttered credulously. The words of endearment hit him in a way words never affected him before. Even though they had touched him, he knew them not to be true. His blood was forever sullied by his own doing, and it would always remain as such, no matter what good deeds he would do. "It is true." She added, and at that Severus began to shake his head in disbelief.

A rustling came from the corner, then angry, yet confused grunts. "Snape!" yelled Avery in delirium.

"Run," he told Tibby. She did, and as she ran, he painfully insulted her for her incompetence. Once she was gone he turned to them. "Now, I suggest you both calm down before talking to me. I believe it unwise to talk to one, if you haven't a clue what is spewing out of your mouth."

They didn't listen. "Snivellus, how big of an idiot are you? You know you are not supposed to attack your superiors! You are nothing, but half-blooded filth." Avery withdrew his wand from his robes and pointed it at Snape.

"Do you really think that you will be able to attack me?" His question received an answer instantaneously. He blocked the spell swiftly. "Can't even cast a spell well enough to get through me—tut, tut—it is such a shame to see that seven years of magical education have been wasted on you."

"I don't know what the Dark Lord sees in you. You are clearly just a cranky dungeon bat. Go fly away on your greasy wings Snivellus!" They were near each other. The air grew thick. Mulciber kept his position behind Avery, not speaking a word to either of them. "What are you afraid of? I thought it was simple enough for you to attack me. I guess I was wrong."

Mulciber grew impatient. "Levicorpus!" Severus blocked it like he had with the other spells. "Snape you should bloody listen to Avery! Stop being such a prick!"

"Terribly attempting to insult me and using my own spell against me? I have never seen worse tactics in my entire life. Perhaps you should repeat your years at Hogwarts?"

"Enough!" Avery yelled. "This is between Snape and I." Mulciber backed away. "Spend more time fighting than insulting. There is no fun in prolonging this through a conversation. I don't know what the Dark Lord sees in you…it's such a pity."

"What the Dark Lord sees in me you say? I can tell you what he sees in me," Snape said circling around him with his hands held at his back. "I have intelligence, I can bring much more to his cause than you with any other band of people could bring. You would just be a pawn, but I an indispensable piece, who could take down the white king ever so easily. You already know that I am superior to you, regardless of blood status. If you are so faithful to the Dark Lord then why don't you trust his judgment?" They were now face to face. Snape smirked. "Possibly, you are the one who is a waste. I am sure the Dark Lord will kill you off first. Someone as great as him would surely see how incompetent you truly are. At least Mulciber would do his bidding as if he were a house-elf."

Avery was infuriated, but the words Severus had said about the Dark Lord intrigued him. "So now you want to join? You change your mind like a moody woman! You cannot do things like that. Someone who changes their mind so much isn't worthy to be on the side of the Dark Lord."

"You clearly are not up to date on the information." He took his seat on the black leather couch. Avery sat on the couch across from Severus. "Mulciber you may leave." Surprisingly, he did, without the bidding of Avery.

"So Snape, would you care to enlighten me, or would you prefer to keep me guessing?" It was very unlike Avery to be calm and reserved. But he had a mission from the Dark Lord and that was to get Severus on their side no matter the cost. He didn't know why, but he did care to learn why he was so important.

"Give me a reason to tell you." There was a normal way to do things, but it was never the best way. Severus happened to choose the hardest, yet most amusing way there was.

"I believe that there is no reason that is…good enough—not from the likes of you. Is that why you won't till me Snivelly? Is that why you need to by yourself time—so you can come up with one?"

A chess board appeared in on the coffee table. "Black or white?" Avery asked. Severus was familiar with this system. While the players immersed themselves in a heated game of chess they would eventually say what they needed to. The game itself was mostly to fill the irritating gaps of silence.

"Black of course." The board black pieces arranged themselves on Severus' side, just as the white did on Avery's. Avery moved first. "So, shall you tell me before or after I destroy your king?"

Avery snorted. "I'll tell you before I destroy yours." He was extremely confident with himself and his chess skills.

The game continued, each move making the next increasingly harder to perform. Severus had taken three of Avery's pawns, both bishops and a knight. Avery was planning something with his queen, but the plan had only begun to unravel before Severus' eyes. On the other hand, Avery had managed to steal a pawn and a rook from Severus. Avery let out a loud huff as he crossed his arms, waiting for Severus to make his next move. He calculated each possibility in his head quickly, trying to seek out the most urgent one. Finally he saw it. He moved his bishop and the queen was gone. "Bloody hell," Avery huffed.

"Why does it matter to you? My interests should not be of your concern."

"They shouldn't, but they are. But the Dark Lord wants you on his side. Merlin knows why, but he seems to think you will be a wonderful addition to the ranks. I'm here to convince you, but what is setting me off is that you seem to not need it at all."

What an idiot… This will not be hard. "You are not one to decide what I will join or not. I have certain wants and needs. More so, I find myself wanting to join the ranks more. Maybe it's the allure for power… After all, it's what we all yearn for." He lowered his head to look at his feet as Avery captured a useless pawn. "Joining you will increase my abilities. I am…delighted that the Dark Lord wants me to join his ranks. I am very…thankful that it is that way." The words were nearly impossible to utter. Most lies come out easily, but it is harder to lie, knowing that you had once wanted the very thing you detested now.

Severus saw a clear path to the king. He moved his queen and the game was over. The king's once former glory was now in pieces on the black and white board. The marble was shattered, and had only begun to pick itself up. "Explain your actions. You have been odd as of late."

Snape chuckled. "The one mistake most Death Eaters make is giving everyone the predisposition to believe that they will be joining the ranks, before they ever do such a thing." Like in their game of chess, Severus made a gambit. Avery's brow twitched upwards in intrigue, but his eyes clearly showed that he was insulted by the comment. "You should be aware that many of the things I do will not happen without a cause. You shouldn't doubt me Avery." He looked into the corner, seeing the familiar wisps of curled black hair in the corner where the entrance to the bedroom and the end of the dormitory met. He had much explaining to do and soon for that matter.

"Very well, but be warned, I will keep an eye on you Snape. I am glad that your path is clear once more."

"I am not ready yet," he admitted partially, because he would never be ready for that fate to be sealed once more.

"You will be, and soon. The Dark Lord wouldn't want you otherwise." Avery left quickly, his head held high and his back straight. The game had just begun. He had finally moved his first piece. He could only wait to see how things would play out.

Unannounced, Regulus walked toward Severus, and sat beside him. His eyes were a tempest of contempt, laced with confusion and betrayal. There were no words, but rather emotions that couldn't be conveyed through words. He clenched his fists. "You have been lying this whole time? Have you really been playing this game? You couldn't trust me, even after all of this. You couldn't trust me enough to tell me that we want the same thing, that we have the same goal." He took in a deep breath, and then let out loudly. "What hurts the most is that every single word you said to me didn't feel like a lie." He looked Severus dead in the eyes. Regulus' deep blue eyes had lost their shine and glimmer of hope. "And now I don't know if I can completely trust you Severus. This doesn't make sense, but whatever you do in life never does."

He couldn't apologize to him. His conscience urged him to earn his friend's trust, it kept on prodding him, further trying to provoke him, but it was impossible. Remorsefully, he moved off the couch without a word. "You can't keep doing this Severus." The words were cryptic, so much so that Severus would spend a great deal of time pondering because of them. "You above all people know that this isn't some silly game. You can't change your mind, or supposedly do so."

He walked away as if it were a dramatic muggle movie. "I wish I had words to respond to that. I hope you will learn to trust me, because I know now you don't at the moment."

"Why are you doing this after everything you had said to me and after every ounce of effort you used to dissuade me from joining them?" The fact that he had changed his mind the first time had haunted him, causing him to question everything Severus had said. This was no improvement. In fact, it was much, much worse.

"Everything I said to Avery, which I am sure you overheard is what I truly think. You should trust your own judgment from now on, instead of listening to whatever I will say. You know what you must do better than I do."

"Do you believe I am not worthy?"

'No Reg, I believe you are worthy." He cringed.

Severus entered the empty bedroom. A few moments after he sat on his bed Tibby appeared looking perplexed. Severus chose to stand, to ashamed of himself to ever sit down, or to think well about whatever he may do in the future. I really can't do things much differently? The life of a spy is always the same—sacrificial, pitiful, and predetermined. Yet somehow in the tragic end the spy will be the most vital piece that ever was. Alas, there is nothing I can do to change my future. I will change the world's future, and that is why Dumbledore sent me here. Why had I been so blind? Pity the fool who tries.

"Master Severus?" she inquired. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yes Tibby, I will be." No Tibby, I won't. Please leave; there is nothing to look at here. I might as well disappear. I cannot hope to die.

The elf snapped her fingers: A savory treat appeared in her small palm. "I know Master doesn't like sweets so this is savory. I thought this might cheer Master up!"

He nodded appreciatively and took the savory tart from her. "You easily forget things don't you?" She looked insulted. "Do not worry, it is a good things and a great skill to have in these times."

Her mouth created an 'o' shape as if she was being hit by the trivial realization. She felt inclined to leave him alone, and so she did without an order or word. This time Severus did not think in his loneliness. His head throbbed, his heart panged and his nerves burned as painfully as when Nagini had plunged her deadly fangs into Severus' alabaster skin.

The course of things had changed, because Severus had found himself falling toward a similar fate that he had in his first life. But similar was not the same. Things were too different already for things to turn out the same, but it was never guaranteed. Nothing was strictly finite. There is an air of doubt imposed upon every part of life.

The next day he woke up in a corner of the castle he was not affiliated with. He hadn't remembered falling asleep, nor having the feeling of wanting to. Things like that had only happened when things had troubled him to a great extent.

He counted the reasons why he had agreed to do this in the first place. There were five of them. Love—lust—stupidity—terrible judgment—his old, tortured heart—they were all at fault. Only now was it clear how weak he had been his whole life. Once he thought of himself as intelligent. It was not the case anymore. Once he thought of himself is brave. It was Gryffindor-esque immaturity. Once he thought of himself as pitiful. It was still that way.

The husk of a man counted the things he could do to change his life. The first was to live. To do that would require decades, or obliviation. The second was to love. He already had, and it had gotten him nowhere. The third was to die. He had no choice in that. The last was to become a puppet once more. He could so easily do just that. And he already was.

To most he would appear a worthless life, and above all deplorable. The only reason it seemed that way is because he let it. He was a flawed man just as all humans. It was that each imperfection only lowered him, for he didn't have the capacity to let it be any other way.

If things were different… It was the beginning of his every question and every statement.

A/N: Please review, it would be greatly appreciated. Also, feel free to PM me with any questions, as I will not be answering them in any Author's Notes.

Also, to the one guest reader named Lilly: Get a FanFiction account; you review too much not to! You don't need to, if you don't want to though. I appreciate your reviews. It is nice to know that I saved a life…

-E.S. Grey