Silver Snake

Silver Snake

Chapter 4:

Priori Incantantum

*

Remus pushed aside the book he'd been reading. He'd had certainly enough for one day. Placing his arms on the desk, he rested his head on them.

His mind drifting between wakefulness and sleep, Remus thought back to what had brought him there, to that situation. How he'd been bonded to Voldemort...

*

'I should have looked behind,' was the one thought on top of Remus's mind as he watched the black-clad form nearing him. 'I truly should have looked behind myself.'

Well, it was useless to cry over spilt potion. He'd heard sounds behind himself when he'd been walking in the streets of Muggle London, yes. And no, he hadn't turned to look. It was too late to regret, as that would not fix anything.

For example, it would not get him free.

The figure of a man in black robes and a white mask -- a Death Eater, like was rather easy to figure -- walked nearer. When he reached the werewolf -- who was curled on his side on top of what looked rather unpromisingly like a huge stone altar, his wrists and ankles bound with strong magic -- he tapped his magical bounds tying him up. Remus was then freed, but only for a second. Right after that his wrists and ankles were again bound, this time to the altar and not each other, stretching him straight on top of it. No, this did not look good.

Then the figure started to chant something in a language that Remus did not understand at all, but which resembled Parseltongue threateningly much. At one point, the strange wizard suddenly drew a golden dagger from somewhere. Remus watched in silent horror as the front of his robes was sliced open, revealing his chest.

Before Remus could say anything, the Death Eater slashed across his chest with the dagger. The werewolf tried to scream, but no sound came out -- he'd been rather effectively silenced by a spell. He could only watch as the man raised his other hand -- a pale, skeletal hand -- and slashed across the palm with the still bloody dagger. Then, the chanting reaching its peak, the man placed the wound on his palm over the one on Remus's chest.

Then the last word was said, and a strong wave of magic surged through him. And then, he knew no more.

*

Remus forced his eyes half open. The light seemed far too bright for him to bear, but at last, he could see enough to make out a figure of a man sitting next to his bed.

"Ah, good morning, my dear guest," the man said with a smirk. "I hope you have slept well."

As soon as Remus's sleepy brains registered the information about who this man was, he sat straight up on his bed. "Voldemort," he hissed.

"Ah, so you recognized me after all," the other man said cheerfully. "I was worried that people might not respect me for what I was before when I gained back my younger body." Gesturing at himself -- a lean, muscular body, fine pale features, shiny raven hair, and piercing sapphire eyes -- he added, "I should thank you, in fact. When I performed the bonding, I couldn't hope for even anything half this good."

Remus just stared at the young-again Dark Lord, who now seemed to be about the werewolf's own age. "Just kill me now, without any further chattering," he said sharply. "If you truly should thank me, you could at least grant me a quick death."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow. "Oh, but I do not intend to do that," he said mischievously. "I cannot do that, in fact. I can't harm you in any way -- and neither can you harm me."

"Why so?" asked Remus. This had to have something to do with that weird ritual. Hey, wait a minute -- hadn't the Dark Lord just said he'd performed some bonding?

"Because I created a bond between us two," the other wizard told cheerfully. "Trying to make us equal, the bond made my body what it was in your age. Part of the bond is that neither of us can harm the other, directly or indirectly." Then, with another smirk, he said, "Of course, as I'm the more powerful of us and I performed the spell itself, the bond binds you more than me. You don't have to obey me, but if you try to leave my proximity, you'll be dead within a day."

"Well, isn't this just splendid," the werewolf muttered. He knew it was extremely dangerous to say anything like that to the Dark Lord, but he found himself oddly unable to care. Probably he was just too upset to act sensibly. "So I'm now bonded to the greatest madman of all times!"

"Well, do not insult your host in such a way," Voldemort replied, raising an elegant eyebrow at his words. "Remember that even though I can't harm you, I can make your life a lot more comfortable -- or uncomfortable, on that note."

"Fine," said Remus sulkingly. "So what are your terms for a relatively comfortable life?"

"Just don't do anything stupid, like start killing my Death Eaters," Voldemort said. "Not that you could harm any of the more important ones anyway, as that'd be indirectly harming me, but don't waste your time trying. I'd also like sometimes some company for a conversation or a chess game -- the larger part of my dear servants seems to consist of imbeciles."

"You picked them yourself," Remus pointed out. His upset mood was fading away, and his sensible mind was now busy telling the rest of him that no, the Dark Lord could not harm him -- at least if he was telling the truth. And if he wasn't, then why'd Remus still be alive?

"That I cannot deny," replied his only company lightly. "But anyway, in return for not causing problems, you can do about anything you want. You can wander freely around the building -- we're in the Riddle Manor at the moment. Tell the Death Eaters to do something, and they will obey, as long as it's not against my commands. Explore the library, the garden, anything you want. Just don't leave the building -- you will die if you do, so it's only in your own best interest to stay near."

"What about the full moons?" Remus challenged, raising his eyebrow in turn.

"It is not impossible to get Wolfsbane Potion," Voldemort said with a shrug. "Especially not with my little pet Potions Master."

Remus had enough sense to look confused. "What do you mean?" he asked, trying to appear unaware of the topic.

"Why, Severus Snape, of course," the Dark Lord replied with an even broader smirk than the one that'd adorned his face earlier. As Remus gasped in shock and surprise -- both fake, of course -- he chuckled. "Not what you'd expected, eh? Yes, Severus is indeed one of my men."

"But -- Severus is on our side," the werewolf tried to protest. "Even Dumbledore trusts him!"

"The more fool he is. Severus is one of my most loyal servants."

Remus bit down a sigh of relief. So Severus was at least for now safe even in his position as a spy. Always a good thing to know.

"Anyway," Voldemort said then, raising from his chair, "your wand is at the table over there." He pointed to the other side of the room. "This room, and the ones attached to it, will work as your quarters from now on. I'll send a Death Eater to fetch you for dinner when it's the time for that."

Remus gritted his teeth. "As you wish, Voldemort," he said in mock obedience.

"Oh, please, call me Tom," the other man said, raising his eyebrow just as mockingly. "'Voldemort' sounds so... old." And with that and a cool laugh, he was away.