Severus Snape surveyed the scene in front of him, through the eyes of his white mask. Other expressionless faces stared back at him, the masks chillingly obscuring identities from his glittering, dark eyes. They had a collective identity; only to their master did they have unique indentities, because only he had the powers to delve beyond their disguises.
"Severus," their master said in a clear, chilling voice. "You will stand guard with the other two."
He nodded, stepping out of the shadow of anonymity. The Dark Lord doted on him, as he counted upon the twisted sisters (Bellatrix and Narcissa, as he called them in his thoughts) and the brat pack (Lucius, Regulus, and Rodolphus). The others were not as loyal, as relible, as diabolical, as talented.
"Pettigrew will arrive shortly," Lord Voldemort continued, eyes glowing red under the thick hood of his black robes. "And, then, we shall depart."
Severus nodded and his voice joined the others in a chorus of "Yes, Lord Voldemort" which was lined with an eery harmony of "Yes, Master."
The crowd dispersed soon after, some Apparating back to their homes or places of work. Severus and the rest of his master's guard remained behind for the task at hand.
(Severus, I wish to discuss something with you.)
He looked towards his master. "Yes, Dark Lord?"
A long, slender finger curved and beckoned him closer. He obeyed without thought, slinking forward in the isolated, moonlit clearing.
"I know..." the darkest wizard said slowly, deliberately pausing before getting to his point. "I know how you feel about the boy's mother. I have seen your memories, you know, and while I do not share your point of view, I can understand that you still have those attachments."
"Sir---"
"Now, now, Severus."
He bit back his frustration and worked hard to remain calm. Human emotion was considered a weakness in his master's eyes; he never gave it much thought, either way, but he did not want to have his weaknesses flaunted about.
"Sir, I value what is important to our cause most of all," he said in his best cool and detached voice. He feared that his thoughts would betray him, no matter how hard he tried to lock his mind from the outside.
"And yet, you want her," Lord Voldemort said, piercing his thoughts effortlessly. "If all goes correctly tonight, Severus, we shall both gain what we desire... if all goes well..." he trailed off, deep in thought. "Severus, you have been a valuable member of this dark circle..."
He was disappointed that his master never finished the last sentence; it had felt as though the Dark Lord was justifying a reward. The Death Eater inside of him found that difficult to believe and wanted proof. However, since he was denied that proof he had to accept that the dangling phrase was insinuating what he wanted it to.
"I will do my part to make sure our cause succeeds, Dark Lord," he said quietly in a sombre tone.
"I know," Lord Voldemort replied.
In the distance, he could hear a shrill, panicked cry from one of his former classmates as he was being dragged towards the clearing. He had never suspected that Pettigrew would be chosen as the Secret Keeper; it had been a brilliant strategy up until the point when they realised Pettigrew could be turned.
The lumpy man panted and writhed under the hexes that two cloaked and masked Death Eaters held him with as they approached. Severus grimaced in disgust when the fair man dropped the ground, proceeded to cry softly, while wiping his nose on the sleeve of his robes.
Severus saw the Dark Lord's nod; he stepped forward and reached out for the other man who was being jerked to his feet by a masked man whose chilling eyes reminded him of Lucius.
"Take as I've taught you, Severus," Lord Voldemort instructed.
He blinked, not immediately expecting such a command.
The dark wizard motioned Severus forward with a lazy flick of his hand. He narrowed his eyes and approached the trembling man. He was very afraid of what would happen to him.
(Show some ressolve, Pettigrew.)
Pettigrew frowned and his eyes sought the man's behind his mask. Severus lifted his mask, not fearing that useless lump that was cowering in front of him.
"Peter..." he hissed, narrowing his eyes.
"Wh-what... what are you---"
(Oh, come on. Did you think I would grow out of the Dark Arts? Foolish.)
Lord Voldemort smiled and inched forward. "Peter Pettigrew. Ah---" he paused and tilted his head. Severus watched as the young man winced and made a small yelping noise. "Your friends call you Wormtail."
"Y-yes."
"You know why you are here, I presume."
"You... you threatened to---"
Lucius tightened his grip on Pettigrew's arm. He yelped again.
Severus closed his eyes and let his mind reach out. He saw the scene in which Lord Voldemort's best spies cornered Pettigrew for the first time.
"Yes, just like that, Severus," Lord Voldemort hissed behind him. "Reach out... open yourself to his emotions and let them pull you in. Do not force it. Seduce him."
The idea of seducing Peter Pettigrew made Severus want to vomit, but he refrained from sharing that with the group. Instead he tried to obey his master. Images filtered through his mind, accompanied by sounds and scents; he discarded most of it, not thinking much of the scenes he saw because he had endured the pranks from his own perspective.
(Tell us what we want to know, Pettigrew.)
The young man didn't put up much of a fight. Before long, he was blabbing the secret, telling the Death Eaters where the young family was hiding. Part of Severus wished that it had been Black, the *noble* Sirius Black, who had been the Secret Keeper---so he could break the slime that ruined so much of his younger years.
(It is enough for Black to know that their plan failed.)
"Godric's Hollow..." the Dark Lord said quietly, menacingly. "I imagine it is beautiful this time of night."
Somewhere around him, Lucius chuckled. Severus felt his Dark Lord's hand on his shoulder.
(Soon, Severus. Victory will be ours.)
He nodded silently.
They Apparated to the hollow, finding the small cottage with relative ease once they had been made aware of its location. Severus only felt a small twinge of guilt when James fell under the green blast; however, he did hesitate to look down at the broken, lifeless form.
The empty look in his eyes, from behind his glasses, would haunt Severus for years. He knew that with one glance, and he hated Potter for it.
When they found Lily and the baby, they had made it to the back of the house. Lily had been trying in desperation to open the window with one hand, while holding her child in her other arm. The baby didn't cry; it bothered Severus that the child would not cry.
(Gryffindors and their Gryffindor babies. Tsk.)
"Hand him to me," the dark wizard hissed. "And it will all be over."
"NEVER!" Lily Potter screamed, her body vibrating with magic.
"Mudblood."
She didn't flinch; the word, the force behind the word left a slash along her cheek. Severus wished his master didn't have to marr her skin---not that it made her less beautiful. Her green eyes were dangerous, on top of stunning; magic crackled around her and was reflected in those eyes.
He had been on the end of her wand once and he had regretted it; he wondered if the Dark Lord felt anything in response.
(Give your son to me, Lily Potter.)
She faltered, as if his words had some effect on her. Then, she straightened up and leaned back; her ressolve was stronger than Severus had ever been aware.
"You'll never have Harry," she said. "Never!"
(Foolish mudblood.)
He knew what was going to happen before it happened.
(Lily!)
Severus' mind was wide open; it screamed for her. In a flash of green that wasn't nearly as brilliant as her eyes, Lily fell to the floor, still craddling her baby boy.
(Oh, Merlin. Oh... oh, no.)
Lord Voldemort bent over the baby and repeated the curse. Severus fought not to flinch as he waited; nothing happened at first, and the need to grimace faded away as curiosity took over.
The other guards gasped. The green flash had settled in Harry's forehead, and then it bounced back and hit their master in his chest.
His body fell and a mist was expelled from his body.
(Evil? His soul? What's left of his soul?)
The others cried and fled from the building; confusion filled their screams of agony. Severus, acting on impulse, snatched the boy up---the boy who lived, the boy who didn't cry---and fled the scene with a large cracking noise.
The sensations from the travel did nothing to soothe his broken stomach, the organ wretched and twisted, and he threw up on the ground.
"Mister Snape."
He looked up and removed his mask. He hadn't been aware of crying, but when his former headmaster touched his cheeks and wiped them away, he started to sob.
(Never cry. Never show weakness. Stop. Stop!)
"Are you hurt?"
He shook his head and felt his hood being removed.
Before he knew it, he was talking about what had happened, how the baby had killed his Dark Lord, how James and Lily had fallen... how disappointed he was in himself for ever believing that being a Death Eater would grant him all he desired.
Professor Dumbledore gathered the baby up into his arms and kissed his forehead. "Hello, Harry," he said gently. "We must go inside the castle."
Severus looked up and saw that he was outside of the gates of Hogwarts. He blinked around in confusion. He hadn't made a conscious decision to travel there; he was surprised that the school was where he had arrived.
"You and I need to have a conversation."
"A-anything," Severus whispered, gulping for air. "Anything, sir."
"Come along," he said gently, helping the younger man to his feet.
Severus followed numbly behind, certain that he would be handed over to the Dementors for his crimes. In the headmaster's office, he learned he would assist the Aurors in all the ways that he could in exchange for his freedom. Dumbledore promised he would smooth things over with the Ministry for his freedom---so long as he co-operated.
That night, in the familiar dungeons of his childhood, he cried. He cried for all the pain he caused the little boy in the deaths of his parents. When the clock struck four, when the sky began to lighten, his tears stopped.
