A Road Less Traveled

"No one knows what it's like to be hated, to be fated, to telling only lies. But my dreams, they aren't as empty as my conscience seems to be. I have hours only lonely. My love is vengeance, that's never free."--The Who "Behind Blue Eyes"

***

"Ennervate."

It was the second time the incantation, usually reserved for those who had been Stunned, had been spoken by the Dark Lord, but the only one Severus Snape had heard. His eyelids twitched spasmodically for a moment before opening. Nausea swept over him as the pain in his skull hammered violently. It took all of his strength to pull himself off the floor onto his hands and knees so he could crawl to a corner of the dusty room. After retching as quietly as he could manage, his ever intuitive mind detachedly realized it was probably at least six hours since he last ate in the Great Hall just before the Third Task. God, has it been that long since I had known safety? How long will it be again? If ever...

After the worst of the final heaves, he still did not dare to look up lest the natural sadist in the Dark Lord be provoked into yet more punishment. Still prostrate on the floor, he took a shaking hand and wiped the warm bile from the corner of his mouth.

"Why, if it isn't Severus Snape. How nice of you to join us...two hours late," said Voldemort in the same cold and sardonic tone Snape often used himself when scolding a careless teenager.

Snape did not answer but bit his lower lip and stared straight down at the wood floorboards. They creaked softly as the other man glided slowly towards him. Snape tried once more to gather what remained of his nerve. This was proving difficult since he was uncertain of what was to come next and his sweat-soaked dark hair had formed a barrier in front of his sight. Lizard-like, long pale toes with black nails just visible under the edge of dark robes came into Snape's field of view. The stout point of a yew wand jabbed him sharply in the throat and slowly raised his jaw so that Snape was forced to look up at the Dark Lord. He could not help but recoil slightly at the sight.

Though he never knew the Dark Lord as a younger man, gone was the black hair, intelligent dark eyes, and proud face. All that was left were demonic blood red eyes with slits for pupils, a reptilian nose and mouth, and skin the color of a dead fish's belly stretched tightly over an angular skull.

"Do I disgust you, Snape?" asked Voldemort softly after a deadly silence. "Answer me, you ungrateful half-blood bastard!" Snape merely grimaced after Voldemort struck his face with the back of a clenched fist. A trickle of blood dripped from his swollen lower lip as he remained on all fours.

After a moment, the Dark Lord continued in a calm and almost thoughtful tone, though his fiery eyes narrowed maliciously, "You...you of all people should have been intelligent enough to realize I had taken numerous steps towards immortality. That I was gone in body, but not in spirit. You were always the cleverest of my Death Eaters. More so than even...dare I say...Lucius or Bella. All the more reason I should have never sent you to Dumbledore those many years ago.

"I should have known you would have been one of the most likely to leave me forever with no real motivation to stay. No fanatical devotion like Bella. No desire for power like Lucius. No bloodlust like McNair. Especially after that Potter upstart, the werewolf, the blood traitor, and obsequious Pettigrew--the biggest traitor of them all--made your life hell at school, you just wanted revenge. Or maybe...just respect. Before your initiation where you took the Mark, Lucius told me of your desire for your many talents to be put to good use and be recognized. Of course, a penchant for the Dark Arts did not hurt either...but we are getting off the point of this meeting. So here you are, Snape, crawling back to me several hours after your summons. On Dumbledore's orders, no doubt."

At this, Voldemort snorted softly, but locked his eyes completely with Snape's. "Now...give me one reason, just one, why I shouldn't kill you right now."

"Hey, Snape...Snape!"

Hearing his name repeated with increasing urgency wrenched Snape out of his reverie. He looked up still partially dazed.

"The Malfoy boy went to lie down. He's exhausted and so am I. I am taking my leave," announced Pettigrew. He gave the seated figure an odd look after he received no response, but after a moment, Pettigrew turned away and walked down the hall.

Snape nodded slowly to an empty room as it took him a moment to recall where he was. He himself longed for the solace and solitude of sleep for a few short hours before he would have to leave this place for good, but knew he would never have such a blessing on this night. No, this night would be a night to be haunted by many more memories...whether he wanted them or not.