(no subject)
Who? Severus Snape, and-well-the Dark Lord
What? Headmasters talking
When? GrownHP
Why? Because sometimes people need shepherds and sometimes they need butchers. Headmasters must be both.
Response to Biweekly response: "A friend is someone who will help you move. A real friend is someone who will help you move a body." -Unknown
He stood alone on the cliff, overlooking the sea and waits for the night. He stared straight at the sun till there are angry splotches red and purple in his eyes, and was blind. But still, Severus stared. If he can keep the sun in his gaze for long enough this won’t feel as terrible as it does, he thought. This won’t be a defeat. He isn’t afraid, at least not of Voldemort and he knew that’s a lie. Truth was, Severus was afraid. What is worst, he was eager too. Something about that revelation scared him.
He waited for the sun to fade completely, before pulling the wand and touching his Mark. The Mark coiled and convulsed, burning black and freezing his fingers. He forgot how much it hurts, to feel the Mark burn and he’s surprised he’s forgotten. It hurts every time. It always has. Somewhere else in England, Severus wondered Lucius has stopped and froze too. They were all connected to each other, after all, and would always be so. Bound by fealty and love, connected by the fire, and the brand; they are joined: to each other, the world and to him.
To him.
Lord Voldemort.
The one he was supposed have been left behind in the Townhouse, in the Carrows’ home, to graveyards and the past. The man Severus was quite content to never see again. He was off his knees. He had…
The Mark burns. He’s surprised at how the pain sears, but the message is the same, as it always was…
My Lord, your servant calls...
He calls, and his Master comes.
He’s aware of his presence again the same way he was when he stood at his cliff weeks ago and felt a man whisper into his ear, lovingly words that he ignored. Now, Severus has to turn. He has to see him.
If Voldemort is surprised, he gives no sign of it. He is simply smiling at Severus with that sort of smile his featureless face gives: stark, bone white and malevolent. He is a few feet away, but that doesn’t matter. It really didn’t. Voldemort was well aware of his place with Severus. It made him smile.
“Beloved.” And just like that, Severus feels the wind forced out of his lungs. He sneers, turning away. The Dark Lord’s smile remains. Voldemort moves a step closer. “You have called?”
“You know why.”
“I do.”
“Well?”
“I want to hear it from you.”
“…Why?”
“Because I have missed the sound of your voice.” It’s a tease and Severus hates himself for walking into it. He hates the sound of mirth of Voldemort’s tone, and the fact that he wants it to be true, the wondering if it is because words can be both. “There was an attack last night, with the werewolves.” Voldemort nods slowly, inviting the man to continue. “…And then today our champions have been threatened.”
“Wilkes has said as much.”
“Well?” Snape snapped. “What do you know?”
“That there is something you aren’t telling me.” The Dark Lord whispered, his voice cold and soft. Like Nagini’s caress. He use to sit on the right hand of the Dark Lord, and had felt the snake. He remembers how it’s like to die under the wound.
Voldemort’s red eyes focused on Severus’ own dark eyes. The Mark seared again. Severus felt dizzy. It lulled to a caress. Quietly, Severus took a step back, forcing himself to remember the sun, the townhouse, and the Carrow house. He had left this all behind. He had left him beyond. He was no longer a slave. No longer the servant…no…no…
Please don’t let him be this anymore. Never again, on his knees.
“There isn’t.” Snape felt his spine stiffen against his will.
“…What of your werewolf pet,” Voldemort prodded. “What of him? What of the first victim?”
“What about them?”
“Tell me about them.” Voldemort moved closer, suddenly. Not near enough to touch the other man, but closer. Severus found himself closing the distance. He would not kneel. He couldn’t. Voldemort seemed to see that struggle but did not comment on it. Yet. He would, when it suited him. But he saw the struggle in Severus’ eyes, that unwillingness to surrender an inch. Voldemort had not seen that look in Severus’ eyes since the boy was a child.
Silly boy, Voldemort thought, did you think I would release you so easily? “I confess myself surprise, Severus. You have summoned me but did not welcome me. You who I have given the world, willingly and freely. Ungrateful disciple. Have you truly left me?”
“…you gave me nothing.”
“Careful, Severus. I am not your other love.”
“I never…”
“I never gave you any lie.” Voldemort hissed. “Give me the same honor.”
Severus fell silent.
“You have not summoned me for this.” Voldemort said after a time. His brilliant eyes gleaming darkness. “I will indulge you this once and demand no welcome. You have come to me with questions. Ask. I will answer. Do the same.”
“…the victim was the grandson of a politician who came out very vicious against werewolves. He was attacked, and the boy infected.”
“The boy lives?”
“For now.”
“Pity.” Voldemort inclined his head. “…and?”
“Nothing. There was another attack in the park, we don’t know why they were targeted. It appears to be random.”
“Nothing ever is. How were the champions threatened and why?”
“Your Deputy…”
“You know that could have been you, I would have given you a school as you wished for without having to deny yourself. Had you come home, you wouldn’t have to hide so as you do here: Lucius neither…” Severus felt his stomach turn. The Dark Lord smiled, contented that the knife had been pushed deeper. “Continue.”
“…your deputy had made it difficult for mine.”
“And now his godson is threatened.”
“…yes.”
“Touchable.”
The word made Severus freeze. He turned, staring darkly at Voldemort. He felt the world stop for a moment. He reached for his wand without thinking. “…did you…no…”
There was pain suddenly. An explosion behind Severus’ eyes that blinded him. It began his Dark Mark and roared through his body like a firestorm: forcing air out of his lungs and thought out of his mind. He probably screamed but the pain might have been too much. He didn’t know.
But as soon as it began, it was over and Severus realized he was kneeling before Voldemort, panting heavily.
“Ah.” The Dark Lord cooed. “There is my beloved.”
Severus forced his head down, humiliated and angry. He was trying hard to breath now. To bring his world back into focus. The Dark Lord did not laugh but he was not mourning.
“Hear me.” Voldemort said suddenly. “Of all the things I may be held accountable for, this is not included. You are allowed your fear and disgrace. That is the life you choose to embrace, but do not blame me, or even give such thoughts room. You have come to me because you are clutching at straws. You needn’t. I have taught you well, my servant.
‘Think, Severus. Ignore that weakness you have allowed into your soul, and return to what I have given you. You were once my cherished. You were once someone who could peel back the emotion and lies and find the truth of the matter. Do so again.”
“…I don’t understand what you are saying.”
“You are asking the wrong people, the wrong questions.”
Severus stopped trembling long enough to look up. The Dark Lord was staring at him distantly. He could have been a complete stranger for all that matter. That apathy in Voldemort’s eyes was poison.
“I am not behind this.” Voldemort said softly. “You sought me because I am the obvious villain. Perhaps you believed that I could have used Krum for misdirection. A catalyst for something else. Perhaps, you thought I would put the appearance of danger on mine, so no one would suspect my actions. I would be just ‘protecting my own’ until I found the timing perfect for some other plan.
And for all I know, you could have sent the letters to protect your Deputy. I know your heart, the lengths you go through to protect those you think to love.”
“I would nev…” Severus fell silent. He looked away. “I am not behind this. Neither is Remus.”
“Tell me the truth, now.”
“…I don’t want Remus to be behind this.” Snape bowed his head, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the truth sliding from out his lips. He hated Voldemort. “But I don’t know…I…”
“You are looking in the wrong place.” Voldemort chastised again. “You, my dear one, know that the one to fear is not the distant enemy but the one closest to you. The one right by your side.”
“…what are you saying?”
“Enough. No more games. No more lessons.” Voldemort said suddenly, turning on his heels and walking away. “I am not that other creature, nor are you like these…people choose to associate and claim as your own. You are mine, accustomed to this manner of fight, and the fighter. Stop feigning ignorance and embrace your true self. You know what you are looking for.”
“A monster.”
“A slipping mask.” Voldemort motioned with his hand for Severus to rise. The Headmaster obeyed. “You are my spy, before that, you were my alchemist. You have been trained, and taught to discern what people aren’t telling you. You know how to look behind the masks. You know how to find the enemies, the danger. Do so now. You have been taught to protect what is mine…that is what I demand now.” The Mark burned once more. Those red eyes settled hard on Severus. “Obey me.”
At that, the Dark Lord turned to walk away.
“V…” Severus was unable to mouth the words, he just couldn’t. Bowing his head he whispered the word he had sworn never to speak again. “Master. I know you care little for Krum.”
“You are right.”
“…When why are you helping?”
The Dark Lord was watching him, his face expressionless: perfect, cruel and indistinguishable; just like death, memory, and always. “Perhaps because I will protect what is mine? Perhaps because I have become magnanimous. Perhaps because I promised Wilkes that I would do so, and I keep my promises, don’t I?”
“…Always, Master. Always.”
“Or perhaps…because you have asked me.” The Mark flared once more. The teasing tone of Voldemort’s voice broke open his chest once more and made him bleed. If it was intentional or by accident, Severus didn’t care.
It was true. Voldemort very often was.
What? Headmasters talking
When? GrownHP
Why? Because sometimes people need shepherds and sometimes they need butchers. Headmasters must be both.
Response to Biweekly response: "A friend is someone who will help you move. A real friend is someone who will help you move a body." -Unknown
He stood alone on the cliff, overlooking the sea and waits for the night. He stared straight at the sun till there are angry splotches red and purple in his eyes, and was blind. But still, Severus stared. If he can keep the sun in his gaze for long enough this won’t feel as terrible as it does, he thought. This won’t be a defeat. He isn’t afraid, at least not of Voldemort and he knew that’s a lie. Truth was, Severus was afraid. What is worst, he was eager too. Something about that revelation scared him.
He waited for the sun to fade completely, before pulling the wand and touching his Mark. The Mark coiled and convulsed, burning black and freezing his fingers. He forgot how much it hurts, to feel the Mark burn and he’s surprised he’s forgotten. It hurts every time. It always has. Somewhere else in England, Severus wondered Lucius has stopped and froze too. They were all connected to each other, after all, and would always be so. Bound by fealty and love, connected by the fire, and the brand; they are joined: to each other, the world and to him.
To him.
Lord Voldemort.
The one he was supposed have been left behind in the Townhouse, in the Carrows’ home, to graveyards and the past. The man Severus was quite content to never see again. He was off his knees. He had…
The Mark burns. He’s surprised at how the pain sears, but the message is the same, as it always was…
My Lord, your servant calls...
He calls, and his Master comes.
He’s aware of his presence again the same way he was when he stood at his cliff weeks ago and felt a man whisper into his ear, lovingly words that he ignored. Now, Severus has to turn. He has to see him.
If Voldemort is surprised, he gives no sign of it. He is simply smiling at Severus with that sort of smile his featureless face gives: stark, bone white and malevolent. He is a few feet away, but that doesn’t matter. It really didn’t. Voldemort was well aware of his place with Severus. It made him smile.
“Beloved.” And just like that, Severus feels the wind forced out of his lungs. He sneers, turning away. The Dark Lord’s smile remains. Voldemort moves a step closer. “You have called?”
“You know why.”
“I do.”
“Well?”
“I want to hear it from you.”
“…Why?”
“Because I have missed the sound of your voice.” It’s a tease and Severus hates himself for walking into it. He hates the sound of mirth of Voldemort’s tone, and the fact that he wants it to be true, the wondering if it is because words can be both. “There was an attack last night, with the werewolves.” Voldemort nods slowly, inviting the man to continue. “…And then today our champions have been threatened.”
“Wilkes has said as much.”
“Well?” Snape snapped. “What do you know?”
“That there is something you aren’t telling me.” The Dark Lord whispered, his voice cold and soft. Like Nagini’s caress. He use to sit on the right hand of the Dark Lord, and had felt the snake. He remembers how it’s like to die under the wound.
Voldemort’s red eyes focused on Severus’ own dark eyes. The Mark seared again. Severus felt dizzy. It lulled to a caress. Quietly, Severus took a step back, forcing himself to remember the sun, the townhouse, and the Carrow house. He had left this all behind. He had left him beyond. He was no longer a slave. No longer the servant…no…no…
Please don’t let him be this anymore. Never again, on his knees.
“There isn’t.” Snape felt his spine stiffen against his will.
“…What of your werewolf pet,” Voldemort prodded. “What of him? What of the first victim?”
“What about them?”
“Tell me about them.” Voldemort moved closer, suddenly. Not near enough to touch the other man, but closer. Severus found himself closing the distance. He would not kneel. He couldn’t. Voldemort seemed to see that struggle but did not comment on it. Yet. He would, when it suited him. But he saw the struggle in Severus’ eyes, that unwillingness to surrender an inch. Voldemort had not seen that look in Severus’ eyes since the boy was a child.
Silly boy, Voldemort thought, did you think I would release you so easily? “I confess myself surprise, Severus. You have summoned me but did not welcome me. You who I have given the world, willingly and freely. Ungrateful disciple. Have you truly left me?”
“…you gave me nothing.”
“Careful, Severus. I am not your other love.”
“I never…”
“I never gave you any lie.” Voldemort hissed. “Give me the same honor.”
Severus fell silent.
“You have not summoned me for this.” Voldemort said after a time. His brilliant eyes gleaming darkness. “I will indulge you this once and demand no welcome. You have come to me with questions. Ask. I will answer. Do the same.”
“…the victim was the grandson of a politician who came out very vicious against werewolves. He was attacked, and the boy infected.”
“The boy lives?”
“For now.”
“Pity.” Voldemort inclined his head. “…and?”
“Nothing. There was another attack in the park, we don’t know why they were targeted. It appears to be random.”
“Nothing ever is. How were the champions threatened and why?”
“Your Deputy…”
“You know that could have been you, I would have given you a school as you wished for without having to deny yourself. Had you come home, you wouldn’t have to hide so as you do here: Lucius neither…” Severus felt his stomach turn. The Dark Lord smiled, contented that the knife had been pushed deeper. “Continue.”
“…your deputy had made it difficult for mine.”
“And now his godson is threatened.”
“…yes.”
“Touchable.”
The word made Severus freeze. He turned, staring darkly at Voldemort. He felt the world stop for a moment. He reached for his wand without thinking. “…did you…no…”
There was pain suddenly. An explosion behind Severus’ eyes that blinded him. It began his Dark Mark and roared through his body like a firestorm: forcing air out of his lungs and thought out of his mind. He probably screamed but the pain might have been too much. He didn’t know.
But as soon as it began, it was over and Severus realized he was kneeling before Voldemort, panting heavily.
“Ah.” The Dark Lord cooed. “There is my beloved.”
Severus forced his head down, humiliated and angry. He was trying hard to breath now. To bring his world back into focus. The Dark Lord did not laugh but he was not mourning.
“Hear me.” Voldemort said suddenly. “Of all the things I may be held accountable for, this is not included. You are allowed your fear and disgrace. That is the life you choose to embrace, but do not blame me, or even give such thoughts room. You have come to me because you are clutching at straws. You needn’t. I have taught you well, my servant.
‘Think, Severus. Ignore that weakness you have allowed into your soul, and return to what I have given you. You were once my cherished. You were once someone who could peel back the emotion and lies and find the truth of the matter. Do so again.”
“…I don’t understand what you are saying.”
“You are asking the wrong people, the wrong questions.”
Severus stopped trembling long enough to look up. The Dark Lord was staring at him distantly. He could have been a complete stranger for all that matter. That apathy in Voldemort’s eyes was poison.
“I am not behind this.” Voldemort said softly. “You sought me because I am the obvious villain. Perhaps you believed that I could have used Krum for misdirection. A catalyst for something else. Perhaps, you thought I would put the appearance of danger on mine, so no one would suspect my actions. I would be just ‘protecting my own’ until I found the timing perfect for some other plan.
And for all I know, you could have sent the letters to protect your Deputy. I know your heart, the lengths you go through to protect those you think to love.”
“I would nev…” Severus fell silent. He looked away. “I am not behind this. Neither is Remus.”
“Tell me the truth, now.”
“…I don’t want Remus to be behind this.” Snape bowed his head, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the truth sliding from out his lips. He hated Voldemort. “But I don’t know…I…”
“You are looking in the wrong place.” Voldemort chastised again. “You, my dear one, know that the one to fear is not the distant enemy but the one closest to you. The one right by your side.”
“…what are you saying?”
“Enough. No more games. No more lessons.” Voldemort said suddenly, turning on his heels and walking away. “I am not that other creature, nor are you like these…people choose to associate and claim as your own. You are mine, accustomed to this manner of fight, and the fighter. Stop feigning ignorance and embrace your true self. You know what you are looking for.”
“A monster.”
“A slipping mask.” Voldemort motioned with his hand for Severus to rise. The Headmaster obeyed. “You are my spy, before that, you were my alchemist. You have been trained, and taught to discern what people aren’t telling you. You know how to look behind the masks. You know how to find the enemies, the danger. Do so now. You have been taught to protect what is mine…that is what I demand now.” The Mark burned once more. Those red eyes settled hard on Severus. “Obey me.”
At that, the Dark Lord turned to walk away.
“V…” Severus was unable to mouth the words, he just couldn’t. Bowing his head he whispered the word he had sworn never to speak again. “Master. I know you care little for Krum.”
“You are right.”
“…When why are you helping?”
The Dark Lord was watching him, his face expressionless: perfect, cruel and indistinguishable; just like death, memory, and always. “Perhaps because I will protect what is mine? Perhaps because I have become magnanimous. Perhaps because I promised Wilkes that I would do so, and I keep my promises, don’t I?”
“…Always, Master. Always.”
“Or perhaps…because you have asked me.” The Mark flared once more. The teasing tone of Voldemort’s voice broke open his chest once more and made him bleed. If it was intentional or by accident, Severus didn’t care.
It was true. Voldemort very often was.