22 – Angel Eyes

On a television in Lily's room, Frank Sinatra continued singing his song from a dark Vegas saloon. His face was like the moon—half of it in the spotlight, the other half in the dark. It was haunted by a love that had come and gone, and his words came out pained:

Angel eyes, the old Devil sent

They glow unbearably bright

Need I say that my love's misspent

Misspent with angel eyes tonight…

Sinatra's song was just as much of a story, and as Snape looked down at Lily asleep on the bed, he couldn't help but wonder how their story would end. Would he be alone one day, wondering what had happened to their love, reminiscing about happy times at Hogwarts? Or would they be together—really together, living a happy life with exciting travels, magic, maybe even kids… all of it creating memories that would became the cornerstone of their life together?

Pardon me but I gotta run

The fact's uncommonly clear

I gotta find who's now the number one

And why my angel eyes ain't here

'Scuse me while I disappear

In the last line of the song, Sinatra moved out of the spotlight, the darkness slowly engulfing him as the word "disappear" echoed away.

Snape told himself that if he ever lost Lily, he would do the same—he would disappear. Things couldn't ever be the same without—

"You failed to protect her. Would James have let that happen?" Voldemort's words pricked like a needle.

"James isn't half the wizard I am. How would he have—"

"If I hadn't come, she would be gone. Remember what I have done for you today."

Snape nodded. Voldemort had saved Lily. Where her lower body had been drenched in blood, the robes had turned back to their usual yellow and scarlett. Also, both of her eyes were now closed, no longer looking bruised and swollen like a boxer's in a title bout. She looked like Lily again, resting peacefully during an afternoon nap. "How did you heal her? I've never read about anything like this."

Voldemort seemed pleased with his question. "There are many things I know that you will never find in books, Severus." He walked to the side of the bed opposite Snape. "She will be waking in a few hours, and there are things we need to cover. First, I assume Miss Evans can be a trusted ally?"

Snape hesitated. "Well I think so, but… she seemed a little doubtful about the doppelganger root. You know, she kind of questioned if it could be used for good. And those Druids in the mural, the ones that made Muggles their slaves… well, she believes—"

Voldemort didn't bother waiting for the rest of the explanation. "Clearly, there's more I need to know before I entrust her to our plan. The way I trust you." He paused for effect. "So for now, she cannot have knowledge of the city. She cannot know about this home, our headquarters."

Snape's eyes lit up. "Our headquarters? We're going to rule from here?" He walked over to the window and looked down the stony cliff. The remnants of the Lost City suddenly had an allure to them. Instead of looking like ruins, the wooden buildings were now basking in the last rays of the sun, inviting someone to finish what had been started. If these buildings reached their intended heights, the magical community would thrive here.

"Where I rule. I. Not we. Not yet." Voldemort joined Snape at the window. "You failed your mission today."

Snape sighed and looked to the ground. "How did you even know where we were?"

"The Tom Riddle posters are in places other than Professor Slughorn's classroom. You're forgetting the one Dumbledore brought to Slytherin. When I saw you early this morning, I knew today was the day for your mission. A dutiful servant you are, I might add."

"I didn't see any picture showing Slytherin."

"That's because it's not in there." Voldemort pointed in the direction of the room Snape had first entered.

"Where is it?"

"Hmm." Voldemort placed his hand on Snape's shoulder, and it caught him by surprise. He nearly recoiled from Voldemort's touch. "I'm sensing something from you," said Voldemort.

"What? No, I—" He felt his head begin to swirl; the room was spinning in all directions, and he started to wobble on his feet until focusing on Lily. If he looked at Lily, it wasn't as bad.

"Hmm," said Voldemort again. "You're bothered that I was watching you."

"No."

"DO NOT lie to me!"

His head began to spin again. "Yes, it does bother me. Why didn't you tell me about the posters?"

Voldemort removed his hand. The room immediately stopped spinning, but Snape felt light-headed and fell to a knee. "There are some things only the master must know," said Voldemort. "Come with me." He opened the door and watched Snape slowly get to his feet.

"What about Lily?" Snape looked unsure if he wanted to leave the room.

"What about her? She cannot see this, especially given her doubt in the doppelganger root."

"Well..."

"You might be needing this for your angel eyes one day."

Snape couldn't tell, but he thought that Voldemort said this in a mocking tone. "What does that mean? What would I need for Lily?"

"We'll be going to the second floor. I'll show you the picture of Slytherin. And then I'm going to show you something only a few wizards in all of history have seen."

Was it his imagination, or had the man in front of him grown paler? Snape could guess what was coming next. He felt like he was at the Spinner's End Carnival again, standing in front of the mother tiger, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Voldemort smiled. "The time has come for me to show you how to perform the Dark Tourist."


You can watch Sinatra's version of "Angel Eyes" on Youtube. Search under "frank sinatra angel eyes", it's the one with 41,000+ views. I believe that the word "haunting" is often misused to describe a performance, but this is one of the exceptions.