30 – The Dark Mark (Part I)

"WHAT WAS THAT?"Snape's words passed through the walls of the brown house. They latched onto the wind and carried all the way to the empty Quidditch stadium in the lost city, faintly echoing off of the empty stands.

"How could you do that to me?" He lashed out at Voldemort again, with a hint of desperation, but Voldemort didn't seem to notice or simply didn't care. He was more interested in looking at the pictures hanging in the room.

Voldemort strolled from one still shot to the next. "Quite a collection, isn't it, Severus?"

Snape looked at a picture of himself drawing Lily in charcoal. Next to it, there was one of him stealing a look at her in Slughorn's classroom. He'd seen these just hours ago in his first visit to the brown house, the future headquarters in Voldemort's master plan, and he wasn't about to forget where the gallery had come from— the Tom Riddle Christmas Challenge poster. "Seriously, what was that with the flashrose? Why did it turn into a skull with—"

"Severance," said Voldemort continuing to stroll as if he were in an art museum. "Do you remember this one? This was right before Sirius Black embarrassed you in front of the class, the day you learned Carpe Retractum."

"What do you mean by severance?"

"I mean" —Voldemort licked his lips—"that I am severing ties with you. And that was my parting gift."

Snape's expression went blank. The intensity that had been there turned to a cross between disbelief and despair.

"You see, Severus, I cannot trust a wizard whose actions are controlled by his… emotions for another."

"I—I don't understand, my Lord. I gave Dumbledore the Dark Tourist. Why shouldn't I visit Lily after my success."

"Because it was… NOT A SUCCESS!" Voldemort turned violently from the pictures, his face coming merely inches from Snape's.

Snape moved backwards, stumbling a little, clearly shocked by the sudden outburst.

Voldemort stepped forward. "You seem to have forgotten that you had the Christmas Challenge poster in Dumbledore's office. I saw everything that unfolded."

Snape took another step backwards. "Then you must have seen the Dark Tourist take hold."

Voldemort stepped forward, his face, again, almost touching Snape's. "I saw it take hold. And then I saw it immediately leave through his other ear."

"How is that possible?"

"He was ready for it," Voldemort hissed. "Perhaps it had something to do with your explanation about this." He shoved a poster into Snape's face. "You practically told him what it does."

Snape looked to the ground, knowing he didn't have any justifiable defense for the slip. In the heat of the moment under Dumbledore's discerning gaze, it was the only reason he could invent for needing to speak to the headmaster in private.

"Not only did you fail to plant the Dark Tourist with Dumbledore, but you've blinded my vision into Hogwarts." Voldemort pointed to the picture that had shown a live view of Slughorn's classroom, now an ashen gray. "It's safe to say Dumbledore figured out what it did thanks to you, and clearly put an end to it." He pointed to other pictures on the wall that were also the same color. "I had ten of them tunneling into Hogwarts by the time you started your mission. They would have shown me students, teachers, Dumbledore, all of their actions completely naked. No one would have known that I was watching. Do you know how telling people's actions are when they think they're alone? How useful this information could have been in influencing others for my cause? "

Snape held his head low. "I'm sorry, my Lord."

Voldemort stepped back and resumed his viewing of the pictures as if nothing had happened. "The flashrose was severance," he said. "After you lost important things of mine, I felt the flashrose was an appropriate parting gift."

"Yes, my Lord, but I didn't know. I would have never gone to the infirmary to visit Lily if I thought—"

"If. Such a pathetic word."

"But if I had known that the Dark Tourist didn't take, I would have warned you."

Voldemort didn't bother turning to face Snape. "But instead, you went for an extended nap. Failed to mention to me that it was done. And intended not to tell me what you told Dumbledore, which was your pathetic excuse for needing to speak to him alone. An excuse, I might add, fit to have come from an imbecile."

Snape flinched at being called an imbecile. He spent hours with his nose buried in books learning new magic. He had faithfully served Tom Riddle, now Lord Voldemort, in their time together. Being called an imbecile stung, and he could feel embarrassment flooding his cheeks, making them as red as the flashrose before it went black.

Voldemort licked his lips. "At this time, I would like to perform a memory charm on you. I think a deserving punishment is to wipe your memories of our mission, this place, everything we've done together. You can go on your way with her. And I will go on mine." He raised his wand and said, "Obliviate."

A weak flash shot towards Snape, which he easily avoided by stepping to the side. "Wait, my Lord. I can fix this."

"I don't think so, Severus." He raised his wand again.

"Wait! Wait! I will do anything to fix this."

Voldemort paused a moment and contemplated. "Hmm…. No. I don't think so. It's too late."

"Anything!"

Voldemort turned from him and strolled again, this time moving in front of the latest, and probably last, picture created from the Christmas Challenge poster. It showed Lily and Snape's reaction as the flashrose turned black, transforming into the skull with the serpent coming out of its mouth. It was one of the most ominous images Snape had ever seen.

"Do you remember what the flashrose turned into, Severus?"

Snape nodded. "Of course I do."

"Hmm…" said Voldemort. "Maybe there is something you can do to fix this situation. How would you feel about—"