He withdrew the book from his robes and removed the Dissilluisionment charm and the Impervious charm before handing it to the Dark Lord.
"What took you so long?!" demanded a woman who stood slightly behind the Dark Lord's left shoulder. Bellatrix Black Lestrange was glowering at him coldly.
"I only had a Portkey one way. Apparation was not possible inside the protective sphere of magic that concealed the book, and I did not wish to be the one to alert the local magical authorities of the presence of the hideout. I walked to the nearest Muggle village, but it was a several hour walk." He shrugged, glancing at the man who stood to the Dark Lord's right. He realised with a start that the man that bore such a shocking resemblance to his old dormitory mate Avery that he could only possibly be his father.
He was staring one of his mother's murderers right in the eye, the darkest wizard of all time stood directly in front of him, flanked by a woman widely rumoured to be a fanatical zealot. His knees shook uncontrollably from being in the presence of such people and having to relive his childhood nightmare, and he cast his eyes to the dark, wet ground as he waited to hear his next grueling assignment.
“Please look at the Dark Lord when he is addressing you,” Bellatrix told him in her cold, cruel voice. Even though Lucius had told him to take commands only from the Dark Lord, Snape obeyed.
Snape felt the Dark Lord penetrate his mind slowly, carefully, almost gently. Compared to the invasive attack earlier, this was an almost intimate caress – as if it were meant to soothe. In fact, anyone who wasn't a very accomplished Occlumens would not likely have even noticed the intrusion.
Snape immediately went on his highest guard.
"Are you ready to die for my cause, Severus?" the Dark Lord whispered silkily.
"Of course, my Lord, if it is what you wish," Snape assured him in a voice of perfect devotion. Well, not really, that would rather bugger up my long-term plans . . . he thought to himself on the safe side of the wall he'd long since erected in his head.
"He LIES, my Lord! He's a filthy half-blood, he admitted it to you! Let me go with him, I beg you!" Bellatrix exclaimed, throwing herself at the Dark Lord's feet.
"Silence, Bellatrix!" the Dark Lord hissed. "It is for me to decide who – if any – will accompany him. Remember your place, and do something useful by attending to your father-in-law."
Understanding dawned on Snape. It was Richard Lestrange that lay on the ground behind him – another of his mother's killers. Snape fought – barely – the impulse to curse them all. At best he'd be able to get two of them before he was killed, and in twenty years it would be someone else in his shoes. No. He restrained himself.
"Are you ready to kill for my cause, Severus?" the Dark Lord asked next, interrupting Snape's reverie.
"It is my overwhelming desire to prove my worth to you, my Lord, and I will stop at nothing to do so."
"Indeed, is that so?" the Dark Lord asked with a smirk, sitting back and waving his hand at the man to his right.
Snape realised the Dark Lord had never left his mind. He had the sinking feeling things were about to get very, very bad.
"The Dark Lord has only learned this night of the continued survival of someone who has gravely offended him," Avery the elder said, with a nod toward the man writhing on the ground. “The Dark Lord is deeply insulted by this, and has decided that the man needs to be punished. You are to go to his house tonight and kill him," he said, casually discussing murder in a voice that would be more appropriate to offering a selection of drinks to a politician. "Do not worry," he continued in a tone of derisive disbelief. "We have ensured that no one will get in your way, but if someone should, I would like to think you could take care of them. Now, wouldn’t you like to know who you will be visiting?”
Snape slowly nodded, dreading finding out who would be his first victim.
“Your target is the Muggle Tobias Snape. I believe you are familiar with his home, so you should not have a problem getting there.”
Only long years of torturous nightmares that ominously foretold this very situation prevented Snape from gasping audibly. Severus had finally trained himself to dream lucidly when he was fourteen, and it had prevented him from being held hostage to the memories of the night his mother was murdered. The ability to direct his dreams had had an unintended benefit – the same skill that it took to direct one's dreams when unconscious was the one used to Occlude one's thoughts and feelings from outside intrusion. Even so, it took supreme effort of will to keep his emotions in check mentally – a failure of which would no doubt have cost him his life, what with the Dark Lord still poking around in his mind.
Despite the fact that Severus Snape's mother had been murdered by Death Eaters for being a blood traitor, despite the fact that his Muggle father had not done anything to defend her, and despite the fact that Severus himself was now professing allegiance to the very man who had ordered the murder and the cause of eradication of Muggles and Muggleborns, Snape held absolutely no rancor toward Tobias and certainly didn't want him dead. There had been a difficult few years after Eileen died when Severus was angry with his father for not preventing the attack, and even in his early teens when Severus had felt that Tobias should have died instead ("the way a proper wizard father would have!") but after Tobias was diagnosed with such an advanced case of byssinosis that the pulmonary scarring was expected to kill him, they'd reconciled and had grown closer.
And now Severus was being tasked with finishing the task given to Lestrange and Avery almost fifteen years previously.
Give him the Draught of Living Death! There's a bottle in your drawer in your room! He's so sick you could probably wave an empty bottle in his general direction and it would put him under! Nobody will know the difference!!! a desperate voice shouted in the back of his head.
"Lucius will accompany you," the Dark Lord said dangerously. "To ensure you don't have any . . . difficulties," he continued in a tone that indicated he didn't expect any such "difficulties" to be external in nature.
Or not . . .
"He's been given the rules of engagement."
"'Rules of engagement', my Lord?" Snape queried. What the hell more could they want from me?
"Yes," Lucius said, rushing to his side. "This won't be terribly difficult as you haven't a mask to wear, but he is to see your face. Clearly."
"I see. As you wish, my Lord," Snape said with an extravagant bow, then turned and quickly exited before anyone could sense his hesitation. As he walked through the door he was faced with a very tough decision. He could go back into the room and refuse to kill his father, but this would almost definitely ensure that he would be killed. Conversely, he could do it. He had done so much work to get this far and he was so close to becoming a Death Eater. His father was sick and in great pain anyway; why throw all his hard work away?
Because he's your father, you bloody idiot, and he's done nothing to you!
He would not think on this. Instead, he'd concentrate only putting one foot in front of the other. He'd deal with what he was doing later, when it was safe to do so. He stalked away to the Apparation point, Lucius close on his heels.
"You know where I live?" he asked the scion of one of the richest families in the Wizarding world.
"Yes."
"Meet me there," he said shortly, and disappeared with a crack, reappearing on the bank of the river that ran near his home. A half-second later, Lucius appeared with a soft "pop" next to him.
"You will have to teach me that," he muttered, more for an excuse to think of something – ANYTHING – other than what he was about to do.
"Of course," Lucius said cautiously. "Severus . . . you cannot hesitate on this . . ."
Snape answered by shooting Lucius an angry glare. "And why would you think I would do something such as that?" he snapped quietly.
"No reason . . . I'm just pointing it out," he whispered.
"I'm not an idiot, Lucius," Snape said, shaking his head. He continued gliding through the streets and alleys as quickly as he could (may as well get this over with) – and given that he'd grown up in this town, this was very fast indeed.
Sandwiches. I served him bloody SANDWICHES! If I'd have known that was going to be his last meal I'd have taken him for steak, or lobster, or . . .
Stop it. You gave him the best warning you could.
Oh yes. That will be such consolation in an empty house at night.
So . . . don't do it, then.
Oh, brilliant. Because of course the Dark Lord will simply forgive and forget. You bloody moron, then you'll both die, and then who will avenge Mum?
Quit whinging, then.
Oh, fuck OFF!
"Have you ever killed, Snape?"
"Not a person," Snape said coldly, wishing Lucius would just shut the hell up. He had no stomach for idle chatter.
Look at it this way – his doctor didn't expect him to make it this long. Killing him will be a mercy.
Fucking sandwiches. Merlin's beard. SANDWICHES!
He reached his front door, and turned to face Lucius, a blank expression on his face. Lucius nodded, raising his hood and putting on his mask. Before turning the knob, Snape glanced up and down the street to ensure they were undetected, then opened the door just wide enough for him and his companion to slide through.
Safely ensconced behind the protective walls of the dark and claustrophobic home, Lucius asked, in a normal voice "Where is he?"
"Upstairs."
"Why?"
"He's sleeping."
However, the creaking of the ancient floorboards above them hinted that this was not the case.
"Does he have . . . ah . . . *ahem* . . . 'company'?"
Oh yes, Lucius. The man cannot sit up without gasping for air, but I'm sure he rang a prostitute the moment I left the house. Two! Why not?
Jesus. Maybe I should have ordered the prostitute before I left. The effort would have killed him, but . . . at least he would have died happy.
And unbetrayed.
And you would be spared from having to do this.
The screaming of an ancient door hinge, followed by slow steps on the outside edges of the stairs as Tobias descended carefully precluded Severus' need to think of a suitably acceptable answer. Both men winced as they heard the laboured wheezing, which, along with the slow descent, paused as the older man tried desperately to stifle a coughing fit.
"He MUST see your face," Lucius drawled.
Yes, yes, I KNOW! Harp upon it, why don't you?!
Severus nearly laughed out loud in wry sympathy as Tobias emerged from the staircase, with his own wooden stick held defensively in front of him – the poor man, desperate to go down fighting, had grabbed the cricket bat that always stood perched behind his bedroom door.
Oh, dad . . .
"Severus?" Tobias asked in confusion at seeing the hate and rage building in his son's face.
"A bit of Crucio, then, Snape?" laughed the blond on his right.
Severus shook his head slowly, not missing Tobias' blanched face. "Crucio" was a word Tobias knew. "Not worth it," he whispered. And besides that, he'd never survive it.
Understanding dawned on Tobias' face, and he glowered defiantly at the cloaked man next to his only child. A flicker of calm acceptance – one that would probably be missed by someone who hadn't known him – flashed briefly across his face.
Severus stepped forward at that, raising his wand. As he did, he allowed an answering flicker of regret and despair to flash equally briefly across his own face.
Seeing this, Tobias stepped towards him, and grabbed his shirt. "You are a man – You are my son!" he declared, but the exertion brought on a vicious coughing fit. Severus raised his wand, summoning the hatred he felt for the man . . . no, the thing . . . whose poorly thought out goals of Pureblood superiority had put him into this situation and said the words that ended his father's life. Severus watched as the sickening colour shot from his wand and hit the frail man, who crumpled to the ground on the sitting room floor in a heap.
Lucius' exultant congratulations put a dam on the images of his childhood that threatened to flood his mind, and not a moment too soon. Snape turned his back on his father's body and forced himself to empty his mind, following Lucius dully out the front door. As they exited, Snape locked the door.
"Dark Mark?" Lucius offered blandly. "The incantation is Morsemordre."
Snape's answer was unspoken, as he swept away towards the Apparation point.
"You're not going to cast it?" Lucius asked in surprise.
"And precisely who am I meant to terrify by doing that, Lucius? Me?" Severus asked in an exasperated tone. "This is a Muggle area. We are the only ones who could even see it, if it were cast."
"Ah – well – you have a point," Lucius conceded.
"I endeavour not to speak otherwise."
I cannot believe I did that.
You had no choice He saw that. He knew.
Shut. UP!
This night is not over. You are not safe yet. Pull yourself together
They reached the Apparation point, and Snape faced Lucius unblinkingly. Taking a deep breath, he put his wand to his still-warm arm, and once again Apparated to the Dark Lord's hideout.
The rest of the evening passed in something of a numb blur for Severus. Upon their arrival, Lucius had laughed exuberantly and declared to all in attendance that his protégé hadn't hesitated for even a second. He'd been granted his mask and assigned a place within the circle – the final bits of acceptance.
Some speeches were made, none of which were important enough for him to bother remembering, and as the evening wore on, he found himself impatiently awaiting the moment when they would all be dismissed, as his heart really wasn't into celebration. He walked over to Lucius. "Do you have plans after we leave?"
"No – why? I mean, I should go check on Narcissa, but nothing pressing. . . ?"
"My father was a patient at a Muggle hospital; they have a record of his treatment. If he doesn't show up to his appointment they will come looking for him – I'll need to alert the authorities."
"The MUGGLE authorities?!" Lucius hissed under his breath, scandalised.
"He was a Muggle, Lucius – and they'll take the body and dispose of it. I cannot have it lying there in my sitting room, stinking up my house as it decomposes. But I'll need about forty minutes."
"All right . . .why?" he asked, suddenly suspicious.
Snape sighed. "I'm going to need to tell them that I came home, found the body, and tried to resuscitate them. But before they arrive, I'm going to need to call them on the telephone . . ."
"You have one of those filthy things?" Lucius sneered with great distaste.
"My father did. I'll get it disconnected next week. Anyway. They'll need time to arrive, and you need to be there before they get there, but I'm going to need to be able to brew a potion that will alter my appearance in a way that will convince them that I'm sufficiently devastated by the untimely sudden death of my father, otherwise they'll be even more suspicious. Since I was with you all evening, you are my alibi – otherwise they'll want to 'take me in for questioning', and that is a hassle I could do without. But if they ask you, you've just moved into a new house and don't yet have a phone connected at yours. And Apparate – do not use the Floo."
"All right – that sounds fair. Although you could just Obliviate them, you know . . . "
"I could, but the DMLE will have noted the Unforgivable, and that will alert them even more."
"You have a point. Very well. I'll do that."
In surreptitiously planning their activities for the rest of the evening, they nearly missed their dismissal. As they walked toward the Apparation point, Lucius said "I'll see you within the hour."
Snape merely nodded.
When he arrived at his home for the second time that night, he cast a series of detection spells – it didn't appear that his protective enchantments had been breached. Studiously avoiding even looking in the general direction of the dead man on the floor, he set an additional series of very strong protective enchantments up, and temporarily blocked his fireplace from the Floo. The last thing he needed was a wizard bursting out of the flames in the next two hours.
Once convinced he was safe from prying eyes, he turned around slowly, letting all his agony, misery and grief pour forth. Hot, angry tears squeezed past his eyes and his breath came in short, sharp gasps as he took few short steps to his father's body. Collapsing to his knees, his voice broke.
"Daddy!" he sobbed disconsolately into the man's cold chest. "Oh god, oh god, I'm sorry – I'm so sorry. I can't . . . I couldn't . . ." he blubbered nonsensically into the cruel silence.
And even now – even now, he couldn't be left to grieve in private. Even now, he had to put on a show – two different shows, for two wildly different crowds, and at the same time. He rose, wiping his nose on his sleeve, to skulk over to the phone. He had to summon the police and convince them that he was truly the dutiful orphaned son, while simultaneously convincing Lucius that he wasn't bothered in the slightest.
You chose this path.
I know. But it doesn't make it easy.
Resigned, he picked up the phone.
Author's Notes:
Thanks to GringottsVault 711 for Lucius-ifying my owl post
Thanks to Bekithewitch for: being a beta, being my Brit-picker, fixing Tobias' speech, pow-wowing with me on possible spells for Dolohov's non-verbal spell he cast at the DoM, edjumicating me on Lucius Anneaus Seneca, helping me over that hump of Unforgiveable casting, pointing me to "If", generally obsessing with me about Snape and causing my forehad to bruise. ;)
Thanks to AzureLunatic for cross-checking my angst and catching my last minute prompt language.
Thanks to PauAmma for being the first one to read it.
Thanks also to FanficWriterNikki for being my guide and writing a prompt just for me (although she may not have done that bit intentionally). I could not have done this without her!
And lastly to MithrilQuill for administering the Gauntlet at all. This is truly one of my favourite challenges. And this one – at some points, I felt like it was written with me in mind! O_o
Cruor Ferveo isn't my invention – I read it in a fic somewhere but for the life of me can't remember where, although I'd recognise it if I saw it. In that other fic, Bellatrix casts it on Hermione and she claws her eyes from the pain – if you know who wrote this let me know where it is so I can check it – I'd like to at least mention to the author that I thought about it later. Leave a comment if you know it, please!
References:
http://www.swarthmore.edu/~apreset1/docs/if.html"If" by Rudyard Kipling - this is what Tobias and Severus are reciting at the beginning and Tobias makes a very brief mention of it as his last words.
http://humanum.arts.cuhk.edu.hk/Lexis/Latin/for the Latin
http://en.wikipedia.org for information on all number of things, including Mongolia, the Marburg virus, byssinosis and French royal history
http://www.ramsar.org I decided to put at least ONE Kappa in Mongolia, given that Snape insists they are found there, contrary to Fantastic Beasts. It's not generally like him to be SO insistent on something that can be so easily contradicted, therefore, he must know better. ;)
http://www.mongoliatourism.info
http://www.pata.org
http://www.teaching-abroad.co.uk All three of the above for general information on Mongolia and specifically clothing and housing of the natives.
http://www.contentmart.com/ for information on Kappas in general
Google Earth
http://fallingrain.com/world/MG/17/Ovoot.html I had the lake scene be outside of Ovoot, Mongolia.
http://www.legendtour.ru/eng/mongolia/r1600.shtml for information on the aforementioned lakes and terrain.
http://www.behindthename.com For leading me to know that Richard was the father of the French Royal Rodolphus. "Rabastan" is apparently purely a JKR invention. ;)
http://www.ibiblio.org/sohp/laf/factory.html
http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/article/001089.htm
Grey's Anatomy (which I own) for the abdominal organ diagrams
And finally, infinite thanks to JK Rowling for starting this fantastic roller coaster ride all, and being generous enough to share her characters with us and letting us play with them!