"My lord."
There he stood, his face expressionless as always, hands clasped behind his back, shoulders straight. Anyone else would have thought Severus to be composed and confident. But Voldemort knew him better. The way he deliberately allowed eye contact; the way he was on high alert to every movement told a very clear story.
Severus Snape was afraid.
As afraid as he had only seen him once before. When he came to offer his services once more after he failed to attend the initial Death Eater summoning. Everyone, even Lucius, had showed up, yet his most trusted follower had stayed away. For a few days, Voldemort had actually thought Severus had betrayed him. When he finally came to him, he could see his fear clearly. Just like now.
Good. He better be afraid.
Taking slow, measured steps through the headmaster's office, Voldemort studied the other wizard. He had intentionally left him alone for three days after that dinner. Let him stew in his fear.
"So, tell me, Severus." He came to a stop in front of him, looking down at the only slightly shorter man. "What exactly was your thought process last weekend?"
Severus blinked slowly, meeting his gaze head on. "I meant to criticise you, my lord. I have no excuse for that. I saw a situation I deemed inappropriate and I felt the need to speak up."
Voldemort nodded slowly, circling him once, before facing him again. "I appreciate your honesty. Many could learn from that." He paused momentarily. "Would you describe yourself as a prideful man?"
His gaze faltered for a heartbeat, crumbling under the pressure of the unexpected question. Then Severus blinked and returned to his stoic mien. "I would say that it is one of my many faults, my lord."
"So you would feel shame when someone of lesser talents beats you? Someone like Bella's unfortunate cousin Sirius Black, for example?"
"Indeed."
"Curious." Voldemort took a step back, leaning against the huge wooden desk. For a long moment, he just looked at the other wizard. Severus never broke the eye contact or looked away. He stood there, motionless, patiently waiting.
But it was only a matter of time until he broke. After these three days of being alone with his thoughts, he would be too anxious. Voldemort could almost taste his fear. This definitely was one upside of the image he previously created. Everyone expected him to torture every follower who displeased him. So when he did not do that now, it made people nervous. Even someone like Severus.
"You know my faults very well, my lord. I do not intend to hide them from you." There it was. The break.
"Very true." Voldemort grinned. "So you can imagine my surprise when you don't show that pride in a crucial moment. Whatever could be the reason for that?"
"My lord?"
He took one long step forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with Severus. While he looked out of the window, the other man stared straight ahead. He leaned to the side slightly, almost whispering his next words into his ear. "Why would your pride not be hurt when beaten by one of your students? A muggleborn witch at that?"
He could see the pulse on Snape's neck quicken, even when his voice remained steady and cool. "You are referring to Miss Granger and the duel. I see."
He circled him once more, staying silent, waiting for Severus to explain himself. Those black eyes no longer seemed blank. Instead, there was a flicker of uncertainty to them that was more than surprising. He didn't answer for a long time, as if looking for a lie. Voldemort continued circling him, studying him, preparing himself to simply slip into that steely mind and rip the answers out by force.
"Miss Granger is an insufferable know-it-all." Severus breathed out calmly, turning to face him directly. "Too focused on reading and books. Just repeating the exact sentences she read somewhere. I cannot pretend I ever enjoyed her presence in my classes. But over the past two years I had the misfortune to teach her, she showed a control over our craft that I rarely witness in students. She is powerful and vicious and uses her knowledge in any way she can. I was surprised by her strength, that is true. I underestimated her before the duel. But my pride was not hurt by being beaten by someone who has proved her potential before."
"Such glowing praise. Is that why you felt the need to protect her from me? What is it with you and muggleborn witches?"
Severus shook his head once. "No, quite the contrary. In that moment, all I could see was the know-it-all student from my Potions classes. I saw a child and spoke out of turn as a result."
He chuckled cruelly. "You certainly didn't see a child in the library, or am I mistaken?"
"Just as I should not have said anything during dinner, I should not have looked then. It will not happen again."
He grabbed Severus by the throat and squeezed. "Quite presumptuous of you to think you would ever get another chance to see my witch like that. But don't worry, Severus. You would have insulted me had you not looked. I know how magnificent she is in these moments. She is a woman, after all. My woman."
Before Severus could react, he grabbed his wand. Staring straight into his eyes, he dove into his mind. The image of Hermione in the library was at the forefront, vivid and big. He let the scene play out. The vision trembled, shaking from the intense emotions attached to it. The disgust was palpable.
Unrelenting, Voldemort rewound and played it again. The image was too clear, the disgust too open. The other wizard was hiding something here. He forced the image to expand until nothing else was left in the mind. There, another emotion bubbled up. Shame. That was expected as well. As he dug deeper, the shame became clearer and stronger, overtaking the disgust.
So Severus used the disgust to cover for his shame. He could understand that. It made sense. It fit the scene. Still. He replayed the scene again. Pushing these two emotions aside. Pressing his magic against the images from all sides, as though rubbing a liquid between his fingers.
There.
The scene changed ever so slightly. If he hadn't looked at it so many times, he might have missed it. But between his own memories in the Pensieve and the intense study of Severus' mind, Voldemort saw it clearly. This was the true memory of how this scene had appeared to his black eyes.
Hermione's eyes widened slightly, her mouth falling open. Her gaze met his purposefully. Welcoming the onlooker. With cold determination, Voldemort pulled on the thread. And up came another wave of shame. Not mixed with disgust this time. On the contrary. There was lust and shock and confusion.
He broke the contact and pushed Severus away. He had hidden it cleverly. If he hadn't been so sure that no man would be able to resist his Hermione in her moment of extasy, he might have not dug so deep. Of course he knew Severus was a master at Occlumency, otherwise he would have never been able to trick Albus Dumbledore of all people. But this was beyond anything he had ever witnessed.
Staring down at the man who was using one hand to steady himself against the desk while the other was pressed against his head, Voldemort felt cold rage simmer deep inside him. He no longer cared that Severus lusted after his little witch.
If he was able to construct a perfect memory like this, attach so convincing emotions to the images, what else was he able to hide? Would he even be able to find out if he tried? If he knew not what he was looking for, how was he to find it under such a thick layer of deceit?
Slowly, Severus let his hand sink, his eyes travelling up to meet his. Voldemort knew that the shock and rage would be more than visible on his face. He could see how Severus swallowed, how his eyes widened. Then he went very still.
"You!" Voldemort hissed. "Is that what you always do?"
He didn't answer immediately. It made the rage inside burn hotter. Was he making up another lie directly in front of him?
"Answer me! You are lucky you are still standing so don't test me!"
The deliberate way in which Severus looked him in the eye only enraged him more. As if he wanted to invite the Legilimency. As if he was so confident that he could hide everything he needed to hide.
"I never conceal anything like I did that memory." It was obvious that he tried to keep his voice steady, but Voldemort could hear a slight tremble in it. Good. He should be afraid for his life.
Severus fell to his knees, bowing his head deep. "I intended to never tell you what I felt at that moment. But I anticipated that you would question me about it or use Legilimency to look at it yourself. So I took the time to construct a protection. I did not want you to know about this."
Breathing heavily, Voldemort could only stare. "How am I to ever trust you again, Severus?"
The hands that he had planted on the floor closed into tight fists. "I have devoted my life to you, my lord. Every step of the way, I only ever meant to assist you. It were never my words or my mind that convinced you of my loyalty, but my actions. If you feel that you need to kill me for this, I will not protest."
He grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up, pushing him back against the wall. "I brought the mudblood to spare your life, Severus. Now I wonder whether I should use you instead. Keep my slut around and get rid of an untrustworthy follower. Sounds like the better deal to me. She at least I can break. You, on the other hand. You will never break, would you, Severus?"
"There is nothing I can say right now that would be the correct answer here, my lord. I am at your mercy. Whatever you decide, I will submit to it."
The blank mask was back. As if a veil was lowered over Snape's whole being, he no longer appeared to have any emotions. Just blank nothingness. With a frustrated shove, he let go and stepped away from him. This was not something he could solve right here and now. He needed to calm down and think this through clearly.
"I expect you back for breakfast tomorrow," he spat at Severus. Then he apparated back to the manor.
In the silence of his bedroom, he recorded the whole visit to Hogwarts in his Pensieve. It would take time to think this through. Perhaps he was unfair to Severus. When he had finally come back to him a couple of years ago, he had almost killed him. He didn't know why his other self hadn't killed the wizard, but because he hadn't done so before, he couldn't do so when he came to that point again. So Severus lived.
Lived and contributed so much to the cause that Voldemort quickly forgave him. It would have been unreasonable to expect someone so close to Dumbledore to show up on that fateful day in the graveyard, he had told himself. Severus was useful, if only as a replacement should Hermione not work out, he had convinced himself.
And then he had actually killed Albus Dumbledore.
The ultimate test and he succeeded.
He longed for his true body. He longed for his soul. When he saw himself through Hermione's eyes for the first time, he realised how much of himself he had lost by creating more Horcruxes. If he had full control over himself, would he then also struggle to see the truth right now?
He glanced at the door leading to Hermione's room. His sweet witch. She was trying to play a game, but he knew that she was the most truthful person here. She would never conceal her allegiance. She was here for one singular purpose.
Perhaps he should use her more. Perhaps she could do what seemed impossible now. Afterall, trust was a two-way street. If both wanted to gain trust, would that not make each more likely to succeed?
Yes, he should do that. He could decide what to do with her afterwards. He still had time.