"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready . . . if you are prepared . . ."
"I am," said Snape. He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.
"Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.
–Goblet of Fire
The night air was uncomfortably warm for how late it was. That, combined with his hurried stride and an ill-boded premonition, Severus felt the beginnings of perspiration on his brow. Once he reached the edge of Hogwarts territory, he stopped abruptly and forced himself to breathe deeply.
Any sense of agitation would be discovered, pressed into, and used against him. Any sign of hesitation would get him killed on the spot, and that was only if he was lucky.
He shut his eyes and imagined a great stone wall, taller than Hogwarts, building inside of his mind. Behind it lie his memories of Dumbledore, the Potter brat, Grimmauld Place, and anything related to the Order. In front of the wall, his memories of his Death Eater days stand in prominence. Dull episodes of general Hogwarts meetings or even his childhood are allowed to remain hidden on the front side of the wall's shadows. It would be far too suspicious to have his mind entirely swept clean of such thoughts.
Afterall, Severus should have nothing to hide.
When the wall was firmly built, every thought properly placed and the cracks between the stones sealed, he twisted on the spot, allowing the pulsing heat from the stain on his arm to tug him through the darkness. As soon as one foot landed, Snape was already off, walking forward with assured purpose. His feet crunched under the gravel of the lane and he came to a stop, his hands behind his back, by the wrought iron gate.
"Let me in, Lucius," he said softly, staring straight ahead towards the manor.
Silence greeted him, yet he saw distant shadows moving about in the few lit windows. He knew they were scrambling about, asking what to do. He could imagine them scurrying like rats, tripping over themselves with eagerness to do the Dark Lord's bidding once more, arguing over who would be allowed to drag the traitor towards his doom.
The purported traitor, he corrected. He must convince himself first that he was not a traitor to their cause if he was ever to convince the Dark Lord himself.
"Severus," came the snide voice of Lucius Malfoy, reverberating from the bars of the gate. "How kind of you to join us."
The gates creaked open and Severus strode forward at once, leaving all unwanted thoughts behind him and behind his defensive mental barrier. Once he reached the front door, it too swung open on its hinges and he entered the drawing room, imbuing all the comfort as if he was in his own home. Lucius stood waiting for him, a sneer plastered onto his pale face. Narcissa and Bellatrix reclined on armchairs behind him, both eyeing him distrustfully. Macnair, Crabbe, and Goyle stood in front of the sofa, wands out and scowls on.
"And here I thought we would never see you within these walls again. Yet it is somewhat impressive how you walk so confidently to your own death."
"I wouldn't be so sure, Lucius."
"Traitor!" Bellatrix spat, her eyes wide. She shoved herself out of the chair and came to stand beside Lucius, her wand raising all the while. "You are a vile disgrace to your pureblood line. You have–"
"That's enough, Bellatrix," Lucius interrupted. "We have our orders. We are not to harm him just yet."
Lucius continued to stare harshly at Severus, as if trying to deduce what Snape was doing here from eyesight alone. How disappointing it must be to be such a poor Legilimens that you do not even try at such a close range, Severus thought wryly, letting a hint of a smirk escape his demeanor.
"How kind of you," he replied when Lucius continued to wait in anticipated silence.
"The Dark Lord is waiting." Malfoy tilted his head down the hallway.
Severus bowed his head slightly in mock deference and headed the indicated direction. No part of him wanted to put his back towards that rash group, yet he knew none would be too foolish to act against orders so early on in the new days. And as Lucius said, they could not hurt him yet. Whether or not they attack him later depended fully on Severus's performance in these next few minutes.
He came to the closed door of the dining room. Straightening himself to his full height and pausing to check that his heart rate was normal, his mental wall in place, and his expression still as stone, he knocked.
"Enter."
The door opened and as he stepped through, it shut behind him with an ominous slam. The Dark Lord stood at the opposite end of the room, his back to Severus as he stared into the fireplace. He turned though at the sound of the door and began to walk slowly around the long table towards him.
"Severus Snape… What a surprise it is to see you here. From what Wormtail and the others have told me, I thought you would be one of the first on my list to take care of. Are you here to make it easy for me?"
"No, my Lord. I am here to offer my services once more. I believe my position could be of great importance to you."
"Do you? And what position would that be? As a Potions master? As Dumbledore's puppet?" he sneered.
Snape allowed a modicum of anger to color his voice as he replied, "I am not Dumbledore's puppet!"
"Is that so? From what I gather, you have been teaching at that school since I fell from power years ago."
"That is true, my Lord. I will admit, taking the position at Hogwarts was purely an act of self preservation. I had no desire to rot away in a cell or be killed on the spot, so I seeked protection from the only person both powerful enough and naive enough to believe in my apparent desire to change my ways."
Voldemort narrowed his eyes and whispered, "Albus Dumbledore…."
"Yes."
"So you wish me to believe that you are still a loyal Death Eater at heart even though that muggle savior has taken you under his wing?"
"I am indeed still a loyal Death Eater, as I always have been," he replied earnestly. "But it is the protection beneath his wing that I offer to you. As a Professor and Head of Slytherin, I am privy to information about Hogwarts and Dumbledore's thoughts and plans, all of which I would be grateful for the opportunity to pass on to you."
Voldemort's snake eyes bore into Severus's and he could feel a slight pressure inside of his skull. Snape kept his gaze steady at the surprisingly gentle foray into his mind; any hesitancy would surely signal guilt. Memories flashed before his eyes–his younger self when he had first joined the ranks, him standing before a class, him berating Potter.
"And what is your opinion on helping me kill Lily Evan's muggleborn kin?" Voldemort said softly.
The memories faded back into his subconscious, the room coming back into focus. Severus sighed. "I was young. I was foolish and too narrow-minded to see the greater picture, as you said all those years ago." Severus swallowed hard and met Voldemort's gaze once more to ensure his conviction. "Lily Evans means nothing to me. James Potter however, I loathe with every inch of my being. It would be my greatest pleasure in bringing an end to his line."
Much to Snape's surprise, Voldemort began to chuckle. "Ah yes: hatred. Your employer believes that love is the most powerful force there is, but we know the truth, do we not? Hatred is the truest impetus to all actions."
Severus inclined his head slightly in apparent agreement as the Dark Lord turned and began to walk slowly back towards the fireplace, deep in thought.
"I will admit, I can see the benefit to your strategy of survival at Hogwarts. I was tempted by the comfort that a Professorship would offer me in my younger days as well. However, your behavior does surprise me if you truly are a loyal follower. You prevented me from reaching immortality with the Sorcerer's Stone and even more recently, you did not come when I called mere hours ago."
"I could not come when you did call, no matter how much I may have wanted to, since it would have aroused instant suspicion from Dumbledore. By waiting to come to you, I can continue to be active in Hogwarts and deliver you information. As for the stone, it is as simple of an explanation as I did not know it was you, my Lord, who was attempting to reach the prize. I only saw the incompetent and greedy Quirrell and so I followed Dumbledore's requests to stop him. If I had known–"
"If you had known, you say…" the Dark Lord began to pace as he spoke softly. "An important point you bring up. You did not know because even then, I did not trust you. From all that I had seen and heard in my brief stay at Hogwarts, I had determined that you had fallen to the other side."
He turned carefully to face Severus. "I ask you now, why should my opinion of you change? Why should I not kill you where you stand and not take any chances?"
Severus paled slightly. "Because the reward is greater than any risk you believe there lies in me."
The Dark Lord's head tilted up–in surprise or humor, it was hard to tell.
Severus took an earnest step forward. "It is clear that nothing I say can fully convince you. But ask me to do anything, and I will. Ask me to share any information that I know, and I will. Better yet, as you are the most powerful Legilimens, I beseech you to use Occlumency on me again and search for answers yourself."
Without warning, a fierce pressure erupted inside Severus's head that made Voldemort's earlier dip into his mind look like child's play. It was so sudden, so strong, that Severus stumbled back and was barely able to catch himself as memories flashed in front of him. The colors and noise were so blinding that he could no longer see any part of Malfoy Manor. He could not determine where the pressure would lead next or down which path it would turn, only that years of thoughts were being pulled up and discarded as easily as a flick of the wrist.
He focused on merely trying to follow the pressure to prepare for whatever the Dark Lord was seeing. Severus knew that he had to trust that his wall was still intact: if he were to focus on it himself, Voldemort would surely see that he had something to hide. He hoped that simply following along with his whims, Voldemort would see no reason to be suspicious.
Unknowingly, Severus began to breathe heavily, though from fear or stress or having Occlumency used against him for such a long stretch, he did not know. He only knew that Voldemort was surely letting it last for this long to see what brief flashes would come up the longer the pressure persisted. To tire him out. To weaken the wall. The minutes stretched on and on. Then it lifted as quickly as it came.
The room swirled back into Severus's view and he stumbled forward, nearly running into a chair. Voldemort stood, unfazed, beside him with narrowed eyes and an expression as cold as stone.
Severus's heart dropped into his stomach as he straightened himself up, preparing for the worst. As loud as a drumbeat, Severus's heartbeat hammered inside of his head as the silence descended upon them.
Finally, the Dark Lord spoke. "Dumbledore believes that you are remorseful? That you are on his side?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"His staff believe you are a loyal colleague?"
"Yes."
"You have told hundreds of little lies throughout the past years, have you not?"
His heart skipped a beat. "Yes, my Lord."
Voldemort nodded and turned his back on Severus as he walked towards the fireplace. When he faced him once more, the light limning his figure, he tilted his head to one side. "I felt your multitude of deceipts, piling up like corpses."
Silence again and Severus had to glue his tongue down to keep from saying anything else in his favor. An innocent man would not argue with these deceipts, so neither would he, so long as Voldemort believed the deceipts were not directed towards him.
"I am inclined to believe you, Severus Snape."
He opened his mouth slightly to let out a breath of relief. "My lord–"
"Return here when I next call in the coming days and be prepared to be scrutinized once more. I will have questions. I will want answers."
Severus was sure to meet his gaze when he said, "Thank you, my Lord. You will not regret this."
Voldemort's lips quirked in self-assured confidence. "No, I don't think I will. You are dismissed. We do not want your other employer to take note of your absence, do we?"
"No, my Lord. Thank you." Severus bowed and turned on his heel, taking slow and measured steps towards the door.
He did not break his stride as he walked into the hallway and passed through the cloudy barrier that had been thrown up, ostensibly to keep the others from eavesdropping. He only paused when he came to the drawing room once more to appreciate the looks of blatant surprise etched on their faces.
"You're still alive," Bellatrix blurted out as she jumped to her feet.
"Very observant, Bellatrix," Severus replied with a smirk and a slight bow.
"But–"
"If you'll excuse me, I must get going. Though I do expect to see you all soon enough."
"Going? Going where?" Narcissa asked.
"Back to Dumbledore?" sneered Lucius.
Severus turned slowly back to face the assembled group. "Yes. Back to Hogwarts and back to Dumbledore. The Dark Lord and I don't see any reason to give up my insider's position, do you?"
Blank, uncomprehending looks stared back at him.
A wry grin spread across Severus's face. "As I said… until next time. It's been a pleasure."
He faced resolutely forward as he strode out of the manor, out of the gate, and disapparated into Hogsmeade. He landed in a thin alleyway and immediately fell towards the nearest wall, letting his back rest against the stone. His legs felt weak, barely holding him up. As he raised a hand to brush off his hair from his damp forehead, he saw it was visibly trembling.
How he had made it out alive, he was not sure.
How he was expected to maintain the facade and go back again, he had no idea.
But he supposed he would manage it day by day. It must get easier at some point. At some point, he must get used to it. Though in the present, he just had to get through these next few hours without vomiting. With a few more gulps of the fresh air, he shoved himself off of the wall and made his way back to the castle, letting the quiet of the night calm his nerves.
As he walked, he replayed the night's events over and over again, trying hard to remember every word so that he could report it all back to Dumbledore. No matter what the Dark Lord believed, he did agree with Dumbledore on at least one account. While he could not speak for the rest of the wizarding world, his actions were dictated by his forbidden and unrequited love more than his hate.
"For you, Lily," he whispered into the night.