Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Visitor
Severus Snape traced his index finger lazily over the tattoo on his left forearm. It was days like this that made him consider drastic”no”foolish things. Cooped up in his dark London townhouse, he often found himself questioning this war, the rebellion, even the Dark Lord himself.
Rain thudded against the window, causing the its grimy glass to shudder. A darkness stretched across the horizon: rows of abandoned homes and slippery, black pavement. On a clear day, he could usually see the edge of the Muggle camps: bruised and dirty children with their tiny, inconsequential faces pressed against the cold, steel gates. Who would have thought the Muggles would have kept procreating in their filthy camps? The Dark Lord certainly had not. It certainly benefited the Mudblood school Alsemore, considering Muggle-born rates had been steadily rising since Potter's death. He had heard, though, that it was becoming increasingly difficult to rescue these children from their homes. The Dark Lord was onto the rebellion, and even though Alsemore’s castle was protected with every sort of Defensive Charm imaginable, Severus was confident that the Dark Lord would find a suitable traitor soon”a crack in Alsemore’s seemingly impenetrable armor. The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile at this thought.
A crackling fire was the only source of light. It palled Severus’s face and his many shelves of books and potion ingredients into shadow. If he was lucky, the rain would relent by nightfall, so he could make a tour of the London camps and meet with one of Alsemore’s impenetrable forces; appearances had to be maintained, after all.
Severus stretched his long arms and rose to his feet. He strode to the window and gazed out at the foggy horizon. A dementor glided by, its bony fingers reaching out, searching for a suitable soul to consume. Occasionally, a Muggle would find its way out of the camps, but the stupid thing never got far before getting caught (by a Death Eater if they were lucky, or by a dementor if they were not). Severus particularly enjoyed savoring the other Muggles’ reactions when he was presented the honor of dropping the bodies off at the camps.
Sometimes he wondered if this is what the Dark Lord had envisioned for his filth-free Utopia.
A knock on the door broke the silence. Severus arched an eyebrow. He hadn’t been expecting company yet”certainly not with the current weather. Well, he could guess who it was. He flicked his wand; the door creaked open.
“Lucius.” He hid his surprise well.
“Severus.” Lucius inclined his head, causing his sopping wet, silver hair to fall in his eyes.
“Come in.” Severus pushed the door open wider. “Dry your robes by the fire. I’ll make some tea.”
Lucius stepped through the threshold; rivulets of water dripped from his cloak and pooled on the wooden floor. ”Not up to coming to the senior meeting today, Severus?” The door shut behind him with a weighted slam.
Severus pulled opened a drawer and removed two tea bags. “I had other things to attend to,” he said. He placed two teacups full of water on the table. With a flick of his wand, steam curled from them instantly. Blackness seeped out of the heavily scented teabags and weaved through the water, staining it completely. “The Dark Lord allows his most trusted followers to take certain liberties and carry on business as they see fit.”
Lucius straightened in his chair, a peacock flashing its feathers. Severus smirked at the image. “A small place you have here,” Lucius said, gesturing around Snape’s dark living room. “I would think the Dark Lord would supply his most trusted with nicer accommodations.”
“Oh he has.” Severus carefully placed his tea bag in his water to steep. “I chose this second home myself to be close to the camps, in the chance that the Muggles will decide to revolt again. Life in a manor can get monotonous for old men like us.”
Lucius took a sip of his tea. If he took any offense, he did not show it. His silver eyes reflected the crackling firelight. “It’s a shame you could not make it to the meeting today,” he said, drawing lazy circles in the air with his wand. “You could see what I have been saying first hand.”
Severus raised his eyebrows. “About the Dark Lord?”
“Yes.” Lucius lowered his voice as though he was afraid of being overheard. “You cannot deny that he is getting older.”
“No,” Severus said carefully, pulling his teabag through the hot water like a fish on a reel. “But he has taken measures beyond””
“Yes, yes, I know about the measures.” Lucius rose to his feet and rolled his thumb around the handle of his wand. “But if they were actually beyond my imagination, should not he have stayed young?”
“Nothing stops a man from aging. He can live as long as he pleases, but there is no Fountain of Youth. Even Nicholas Flamel chose to die eventually.”
“Well the Dark Lord seems uneasy about it,” Lucius went on, pacing around Severus’s living room, running a finger along the dusty spines of his books.
“He has expressed his concerns to you.” Severus let doubt ring through is voice.
“Not exactly.” Lucius dropped his hand and turned to face Snape. “Tell me, Severus”if you were a man of over one hundred and twenty years of age, would you not be concerned?”
“I very much doubt I will live that long,” Severus said with a shrug. “What makes you think the Dark Lord fears his age?”
“The way he is acting,” Lucius said as he settled himself at the window. “If you had been at the meeting today, you would understand. He is terse, much stricter with the young recruits. If I were a junior Death Eater, I would have run away long ago.”
Snape got to his feet and crossed to his favorite armchair. “As much as that says of your character, Lucius, it says very little for the Dark Lord’s. Yes, he has become more stern with the children, but do you doubt that those brats deserve it?” Severus leaned in like a cat about to pounce. “Those students have been spoiled at Hogwarts; without having to deal with Mudblood filth; their little lives have been too comfortable. When the best are picked to join our ranks, they have quite a transition to make.”
A smile began to stretch across Severus’s face as he launched his next attack. “Even in the older days, he was known for dealing with new recruits quite strictly. Let us not forget young Draco.”
Lucius spun around. His hair stuck up in each direction; his silver eyes widened manically. Severus could see his wand quivered in his hand. “Draco is dead,” Lucius said. The grey and black sky through the window formed a sort of anti-halo around his head.
“He is.” Snape leaned back lazily in his chair. “We all saw you kill him, after all.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing.” Snape rolled up the sleeves of his robe, exposing his blackened Dark Mark. “You do not think it is possible, though, that he Disapperated just in time? That curse of yours was quite destructive. It is quite possible, I would guess, that he took a page out of our dear friend Peter’s book.”
“Peter Pettigrew,” Lucius spat, “was an imbecile.”
“But an imbecile who survived until that goat of a man killed him.”
Lucius opened his mouth and stood, waiting for a retort to come to him.
“It is interesting,” Snape continued, pushing himself out of his chair and pacing across his living room. “I never saw you this sensitive before your stint in Azkaban.”
“Do you doubt the Dark Lord?” Lucius spat, sweeping across the room to follow Severus. “Do you doubt his spies and agents who confirm that Draco is dead?”
“Apparently you do,” Severus said.
“I”I would never doubt””
“You told me yourself.” Severus took a step forward. Lucius retreated. “You believe the Dark Lord is growing incompetent in his old age. You think it is wise to confess these feelings to his most trusted follower?”
“Just because the Dark Lord trusts you, Severus, does not mean we all do.”
“Really.” Severus folded his hands. “It could not be that you are simply envious of the high esteem in which the Dark Lord holds me.”
“Not”not at all,” Lucius spluttered.
“Do you really doubt my allegiance, Lucius? Do you forget who killed Dumbledore when your son was too cowardly?
“My son is dead!” Lucius slammed his palm against Snape’s desk.
The pair glared at each other in silence. Severus observed Lucius’s glinting, frantic eyes; he could feel the fear pouring out, filling the room with a palpable tension that even the most inexperienced of Legilimens would be able to swim in.
Lucius was the first to break away. He turned to the floor and pushed his robes aside in a flurry. “Well”I must go.” He cleared his throat. “I have a meeting with Yaxley.” He strode across the room and opened the door.
Snape didn’t turn around. He stared at where Lucius had just been, a smirk spreading across his face. Lucius had broken.
“Severus.” The door shut.
Severus turned around. “Your son is dead,” he repeated. He chuckled lowly to himself. “That’s what you think.”
He settled in his black armchair and rolled his sleeve up again. His Dark Mark was etched black against his pale skin; it was always black now. Before the Dark Lord’s second reign, it had disappeared”it was almost invisible”convenient for hiding from Ministry officials. Now, the Dark Mark was a treasure, a thing to be cherished, despite the initial pain of receiving it.
Severus sighed. The rain was not relenting. The sun remained hidden. Even the thought of patrolling the camps did not cheer him up; all of those filthy children would be hiding with their parents or nestled under wreckage.
Crack.
Severus raised his eyebrows and turned toward the door. Just on cue, there was a knock. He waited a moment. Another knock.
He swept across the room. His eyes warmed as the door creaked open. “Hello, Naesa.”
Halfway to Infinity by Eponine
Chapter Notes: I am so extraordinarily sorry for the absurd wait on this chapter. I have definitely not given up on this story; I have actually written up to chapter sixty-one. A situation beyond my control delayed this chapter, but never fear! Lottie's plight continues!
Like always, thank you to TheBird for helping me greatly improve this chapter!
This chapter is dedicated to my acting class. Here's to our wonderful beginning, and the next three years we will spend together.