"You are late, Death Eater."

It had been thirteen years since he had heard that voice, and the malice in the high, cold tones did nothing to calm the hot strands of panic pulsating through his limbs. He thought he was ready, but the sight of the Dark Lord nearly had Severus Snape apparating back to Hogwarts.

He knelt, head bowed, forcing his traitorous muscles to remain still. "I crave your pardon, my lord. My reason for delay was in your service, as ever."

He could almost hear the Crucio in the dank, close air of the cemetery, but Voldemort was silent. Severus watched him pace in front of the Riddle gravestone, heart slowing to its usual, measured beat. Peter Pettigrew, the nasty, simpering boy, knelt to his right, clutching at a shiny object that seemed to have taken the place of his fleshly hand. Snape shifted his gaze a little further and found Lucius Malfoy regarding the whole scene with an unholy joy. He could not remember the last time he had seen the pale, pointed face so eager. Was his old friend glad he had come at last or eager to see him punished?

He was not yet dead, which spoke highly of his chances of survival. The Dark Lord did not hesitate when execution was deemed necessary.

"What could you have been doing in my service that kept you at Albus Dumbledore's side instead of mine?"

Severus forced himself to meet the red eyes boring into his, invoking his strongest occlumens shields. This was the crucial moment. "Continuing the position to which you ordered me, my lord. Will you not have need of a spy at Hogwarts as you did before?"

He could feel Voldemort enter his mind, sifting through the carefully selected memories Severus made available. He had forgotten the formidable power of Voldemort's legilimency. The shields wavered against the force. Snape schooled his face into a calm mask, forcing all of his energy into protecting those memories – things he dared not let Voldemort see.

The link was severed.

"Very well."

It was impossible to tell if those two words signaled approval or anger. All Snape knew was the terrible pressure in his temples had abated. There was an almost lazy line to Voldemort's body as he resumed his pacing. He paused next to his father's grave and turned to Snape, smiling as much as his lipless mouth would allow.

"Crucio."

Snape's muscles curled into an all-too-familiar fetal position as the pain snaked through his limbs. He ground his teeth, willing himself not to cry out as it stabbed red-hot through his bones. Focus, Severus. The thought blurred as a cry forced itself from his throat.

The pain stopped. Panting, Snape braced himself on shaky arms, allowing a few thundering heartbeats to pass before raising his eyes again. He should count himself fortunate. In the old days, he would not have fared so well.

"My lord," he said penitently.

"Up, up my old friend," Voldemort said easily, anger appeased for the moment. "We have much to talk of, you and I."

Snape stood, feeling Lucius draw near. He had fooled Lucius often enough over the last decade, but the man's cunning seemed to have sharpened in the presence of their master. He was reminded of his first year at Hogwarts, when he first found himself under the watchful eye of the Slytherin prefect. Had Lucius been re-assigned his old role of watchdog?

"Come, Severus," Snape controlled his recoil at the use of his first name by his old master. "What can you tell me of Potter?"

"The boy spends his summers with relatives – Dumbledore has never confided their location to me, but he has said it is because of the protective wards granted by blood relations." You will have no chance to harm him further until the summer ends.

"But I have taken his blood. His mother's sacrifice now also extends protection to myself."

"Protection, yes, my lord, but not immunity to the wards already in place," Snape reminded. "If you were to approach the boy with the intent to harm him, it would be as before. You must bide your time, gather strength. Potter can be dealt with when the time is right." It was difficult to completely mask the triumph he felt when he saw the futile anger on Voldemort's face. Lily had won again, it seemed.

Voldemort hissed in a breath. "Very well, tell me of his time at school. What opportunities may present themselves?"

Snape let one side of his mouth curl up in a sardonic smile. "The boy is as defenseless as a flobberworm. He and his Gryffindor associates frequently sneak out of the castle and venture where he is forbidden to go. The rules are of less interest to the brat than his homework. I daresay if he would devote some of that time to study, he would find himself –"

"I'm not interested in his O.W.L. prospects, Death Eater," Voldemort interrupted, eyeing him critically. "Perhaps you have been at Hogwarts a little too long. "

Lucius hurried forward, clearly anxious to provide something of value. "My lord, Draco tells me Potter is something of a favorite with the headmaster. We might be able to use that connection to destroy both of them."

"Forgive me, Malfoy, but wouldn't Potter's closeness to Dumbledore hinder our plans rather than help them?" Snape said coldly. He turned to Voldemort, "I would suggest, rather, that you spend the interim of the summer to create doubts in Potter's mind. He dislikes spending the summer away from the wizarding world. That malcontent should provide ample opportunities for you to work, my lord."

Something resembling a laugh came from Voldemort. "Ah yes, my faithful, devious Snape."

Lucius backed away at Voldemort's imperious hand flick, his pale eyes narrowed on Snape. Severus focused on the Dark Lord, repulsed and yet fascinated by the odd, somehow less-than-human form to which he had resurrected. It was a level of Dark Magic he had yet to encounter. Was it because he had not a complete soul to encase that the body was so warped? Or was it merely the form the incantation conjured?

Focus, Severus. Now is not the time. The fascination would never die, but he could at least control it.

"Tell me, Severus, does the boy remind you of his mother?"

Only the instinctive invocation of occlumency saved him from a disastrous betrayal. "Only slightly, my lord," Snape said, forcing his shoulders remain loose and relaxed. "There is much more of his idiot father in him, I daresay."

Voldemort was watching him closely. Severus recognized that calculating gleam. "At least he favors the pureblood side. But then, you always had a weak spot for the mudblood, didn't you? Even after I provided you with a worthy substitute."

"I never questioned your choice for me, my lord." Severus managed, quivering with the force of his concentration. "Neither your choice for me to wed, nor your punishment of Treasa's betrayal."

"Yes, and that's what worries me, Snape." The red eyes were piercing. "For you did question when it came to Lily Evans."

******

Author's Note: This is my first HP fanfic, so I look forward to lots of advice to make it even better. Hope you are enjoying it so far. Thanks so much for reading!