The Dark Lord's Secret Love

Chapter Three: A Mission (interlude)

Albus Dumbledore, esteemed and extremely ancient headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, sat behind his desk waiting. His blue eyes twinkled as they gazed upon a pile of sweets that were lying on his desk. A knock sounded at the door, and the twinkling in the headmaster's eyes intensified.

"Come in, Severus," he said serenely.

The door opened swiftly. A relatively young man, dressed all in black stalked into the room. Even the man's decidedly oily hair and penetrating eyes were black. The only non-black thing about the man was his sallow, yellowish skin. Apparently black clothes just did not suit him, but Severus Snape didn't seem to care in the least.

"Good afternoon, Albus," answered Snape. "What was it you wanted to see me about?" he questioned, getting to the point very quickly and somewhat impatiently, as he had quite a lot to do before leaving Hogwarts for his small house, where he lived during the summer. Plus, he had little patience for Albus Dumbledore's eccentricities, and he had an inkling that the headmaster often purposely tried to annoy him.

"Ah, yes, Severus," said Dumbledore. "I sent for you because I need your help in a certain sensitive matter. I have a mission for you, a mission of the utmost importance. It is a mission of extreme danger, and you will need to rely on all of the cunning you possess to accomplish this task."

Severus sighed inwardly. He was used to the headmaster's penchant for mystery, but it still irritated him. He silently reminded himself that he owed his job to this man, whether it was the job he actually wanted or not. Snape made no secret of the fact that he wanted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts rather than Potions, but after fifteen years of asking for the position, he assumed that Albus would never let him have it.

"Whatever the mission is, I will perform it, Headmaster, but you'll have to give me more information," Snape said waspishly.

"Ah, yes," remarked Dumbledore. "I will tell you the details of your mission, Severus. Please sit down first. Would you like a Lemon Drop? They're quite delicious, and have always made me feel calmer. You are looking a bit tense. Perhaps you would feel better if you tried one."

Snape eyed the yellow candy warily. In his nearly sixteen years as a professor at Hogwarts and the seven years he spent as a student, Severus had never once accepted a Lemon Drop from Dumbledore. He had been offered one nearly every day since becoming the school's potions master. He was not about to break his refusal record today.

"No, Albus, I'd rather not," he answered. "Let's just get down to business, please."

"Alright, Severus, as you wish," said Dumbledore. "I am about to make an unusual request of you. I need you to do as I ask when you are next summoned to the Dark Lord's side. Please take these bags of sweets on my desk," he indicated a very large bag, brimming over with packages of Lemon Drops, "and place them within the Dark Lord's eyesight. I must ask that you make the placement of the packages look natural. Do not let him see you put them down."

"Sweets? That's this important and dangerous mission? Placing bags of sweets where the Dark Lord can see them?" Snape sincerely believed that the rumors of the past year were true, and Dumbledore had finally gone completely mad.

"Yes, that is your mission, Severus. Place the sweets where you believe they will catch Voldemort's eye," said Dumbledore. Severus cringed at the sound of the name, but did not comment on its use.

"You want me to make sure the Dark Lord sees muggle sweets?" asked a very confused and cantankerous Snape. "That's the mission?"

"Why do you keep asking that same question, Severus?" queried Dumbledore. "All I ask is that you place the sweets where Voldemort is likely to spot them and mistake them for a natural part of the surroundings."

"I'm asking because this hardly seems like an important and dangerous mission, Albus!" said Snape. "I've never been asked to work with sweets before, after all! I assumed that you were asking me to risk my life again, as you usually do."

"Please, Severus, do not underestimate the importance or the danger of this mission," cautioned Dumbledore. "It is necessary to the Order's effort in this war we are entering. These simple Lemon Drops may hold the key to defeating Lord Voldemort for good. Please, take the sweets, and do as I ask."

"I shall, Headmaster," consented a still bewildered Snape.

"Excellent, Severus!" Dumbledore smiled, his blue eyes twinkling merrily. "I thank you. Now, I wish to discuss your application for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. I am inclined to offer you the position this year, if Horace Slughorn consents to taking up his old job of Potions Master. I am entirely running out of options, which is understandable after having to hire a new professor each year for more than twenty years."

"What?" asked Snape, completely nonplussed. He had given up all hope of teaching his preferred subject, assuming that Dumbledore saw the Dark Arts as too much of a temptation to him.

"If Horace Slughorn will take up your position, you may have the job you have continually applied for during your employment at this school," Dumbledore repeated slowly, as if Snape were a slightly dim student.

"Erm, thank you, Headmaster," Snape stuttered. "I should be very happy to have that position."

"Will that be all, Headmaster?" asked Snape. "I must be getting back to packing. The Dark Lord expects me to be on Spinners End by tomorrow. He indicated that he would be in need of my services soon, and prefers that I am able to apparate to his side readily."

"Yes, Severus, that is all I needed," said Dumbledore. "Are you sure you wouldn't like a Lemon Drop? They're quite good. A surprising combination of sweetness and sourness, which gives them a remarkable flavor. I think you would really enjoy them."

Snape sneered at the yellow candies, and politely rejected them for what was probably the thousandth time. The Death-Eater-turned-potions-master turned and left his superior's office, with a swish of his black robes.