Beyond the Shadows of the Night

Chapter Four: The Trap

It was evening and Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, discussing the current situation. Harry had had to tell Ron and Hermione what he had found out about the Ayrin over and over again and he was already tired of being constantly reminded of Snape´stelling-off the day before.

"Harry," said Hermione, "please tell me once more what exactly you read in that book. I´ve got a feeling that I´m close to something but I can´t tell what it is."

Harry groaned. "Look, I´ve told you at least twenty times already," he said in an exasperated tone. Hermione gave him a look. "All right," he sighed. "But if you ask one more time, I´m going to write it down and you can spend the rest of the day pouring over it." He leaned a bit closer to Hermione and Ron to make sure no one could overhear him. "I read that: a) they are -- big surprise-- powerful magical objects; b) at least one of the two emeralds is still hidden at Hogwarts; and c) they are only useful to the heir of Slytherin, whatever that means."

"Wait a moment, Harry," Hermione said, and her face suddenly lit up. "You say that the Ayrin are only useful to Slytherin´s heir?"

"So I have for the twentieth time now," replied Harry, annoyed.

"But you are not Slytherin´s heir. You´re not in the slightest way related to Slytherin, are you?" Hermione went on eagerly. "I think we might have another clue."

Ron and Harry looked at her, dumbfounded.

"Another clue?" said Ron doubtfully. "The only clue I can get out of that is that we can chuck it all in because Harry is not Slytherin´s heir."

"Honestly, Ron!" Hermione said in her know-it-all-voice. "Just think for a moment. Of course Harry wouldn´t be able to use the Ayrin if he didn´t have anything in common with Slytherin´s heir." She looked at the two boys intently. "And what is it that everyone knows Harry has in common with Voldemort, Slytherin´s last heir?"

Ron shrugged. "They have an equally high number of newspaper articles written about them?"

"Hey!" Harry protested, elbowing the sniggering Ron in the side, and looking at him in mock indignation. "I bet I have more articles."

Hermione glared. "No, I was not talking about newspaper articles. Harry and Voldemort are the only living people known to speak Parseltongue. That´s what´s required to use the Ayrin if I´m not much mistaken. And that´s why Harry is the only person who can use them against Voldemort."

Harry and Ron stared. "You are brilliant, Hermione!" Harry exclaimed. "That´s it."

"But why should they be only useful to Parselmouths?" Ron said, still not entirely convinced. "Do you think those emeralds whisper instructions in your ear in Parsel? Like, `Now hit him in the left eye, that´s his weak point´?"

"I have no idea," said Hermione pensively. "It might be just the quality that counts."

At that moment Oliver Wood interrupted their conversation. "Hey, Harry," he called. "make yourself ready for Quidditch practice, will you? The team meets in ten minutes on the Quidditch field."

Harry nodded at Oliver and sighed. "Well, I´ll be off for Quidditch then," he said to Ron and Hermione. "Oliver will probably have us practicinguntil midnight again. You know that the match against Ravenclawis tomorrow." He got up, heading for the staircase to the boys´ dormitory.

"Can we come and watch?" asked Ron, getting up after him.

"Want to watch me falling off my broomstick with exhaustion, do you?" Harry grinned. "You can at least bring a mattress to catch me, then."

Ten minutes later, Harry was up in the air on his broomstick, zooming across the Quidditch pitch, while Ron and Hermione sat watching from the stands. Oliver Wood, who was team captain again since he had to repeat a year, was making them work hard; but Harry couldn´t quite concentrate on the game. His mind was elsewhere. The Ayrin and the task he had to fulfil kept nagging him. Why was it always him? Why did everything happen to him? Hermione had been right when she had said in their forth year that everything did happen to him. But sometimes Harry would have been glad to get a break from all his adventures. Not that he didn´t enjoy them in a way, but too much was too much.

He heard a Bludger whistle by, an inch from his left ear, and was brought back to reality. For the moment at least. He noticed that Oliver was shouting at him from a few feet away. "... do you think you´re here for? The Snitch was right above your head! Keep your mind on the game, goddammit! We are playing Ravenclawtomorrow! I´ll have your head off if you don´t catch that Snitch!"

So Harry made an effort and tried to concentrate on the game. It wasn´t easy when you didn´t really have anything to distract you from your thoughts. He looked out for the Snitch but couldn´t spot it anywhere, and soon a daze came over him again and he got lost in thoughts, the match forgotten.

~*~

Severus was in his small bedroom, preparing to leave. God knew, he would have done anything if he could have avoided going to Lucius Malfoy´s Dark Revel, but he didn´t have a choice. He had to keep the cover, even though he knew deep within that it was probably only a matter of time until Voldemort and the Death Eaters figured out what he really was: a spy. Severushad a feeling that the Dark Lord had never really believed his excuses for threatening Quirrell. He had told Voldemort that he had thought Quirrell had wanted the stone for himself and that he had had no idea that Quirrell had actually been working for the Dark Lord. With an amused smile and the words `May your loyalty never waver again´, Voldemort had readmitted Severus into the fold. But Severusknew better than to underestimate the Dark Lord. He would not be fooled, and one day Severus´s hour would come. He hoped it would not be too soon.

Since this train of thought didn´t generally improve his mood, he ignored it determinedly most of the time. As a spy in Voldemort´s inner circle you couldn´t afford to be afraid -- not if you wanted to stay alive.

Severus put on his dark travelling cloak and fastened the clasp. He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. Twenty past ten. He was late. He grabbed his wand and, shoving it into his sleeve, he hurried out, along the corridors, and slipped through the heavy oak doors in the entrance hall.

The grounds outside were slick and muddy and rain was falling from the night sky in heavy drops. Severus slid on the wet grass as he hurried across the grounds, cursing under his breath. He threw his hood over his head and gathered his cloak tightly around him to block out the cold.

As he passed Hagrid´s cabin, a huge shadow suddenly came out of the door, swinging a bucket and whistling merrily. Hagrid. Severusshrank back into the shadows of the wall, praying that Hagrid hadn´t seen him. As soon as Hagrid had disappeared from sight, he hurried on, past Hagrid´s cabin and into the Forbidden Forest. Rainwater was dripping from the high trees and the hollow sound of the drops hitting the layer of dead leaves on the ground made the forest even eerier than it usually was. White mist was rising from the ground and made it impossible to see further than a few metres.

Severus drew his cloak still tighter around him, peering nervously through the walls of trees on either side. The Forest was not safe at that time of the day. Actually it was never safe, but especially not at night. In the distance he could hear the howling of a wolf and others responding.

Severus sped up, stumbling through the undergrowth and tripping over roots. A few steps further, he could see the magical borderline that marked the end of the Hogwarts grounds. As soon as he had reached it, he disapparatedwithout a backwards glance.

~*~

After what must have been aeons, Oliver Wood finally blew his whistle and motioned for the team to follow him to the ground. He had indeed made them practice almost until midnight. Harry was grateful for the rain that had grown stronger and stronger until it was impossible to go on playing. Otherwise he might have been up in the air on his broomstick until morning.

He pointed the handle of his broom downwards and slowly circled to the ground where a sopping wet and angry Oliver Wood awaited him.

"What´s up with you?" he asked heatedly. "I don´t know how many times I´ve seen that Snitch near you and you haven´t. I´m telling you, if you don´t catch the Snitch tomorrow--"

"I´m sorry, Oliver," Harry interrupted wearily. "I know I wasn´t in best form, but I´ll be better tomorrow."

"I bloody well hope so," Oliver grumbled. "Well, better get some dry clothes on. You´ll catch cold."

With Ron and Hermione by his side, Harry hurried after the other team members across the dark, slippery grounds and into the entrance hall. Glad to finally be where it was warm and dry, he pushed his wet hair out of his face and started to go up the marble staircase, when a clock chimed midnight. The deep, heavy strokes reverberated through the moonlight-streaked corridors, creating an eerie atmosphere. When the last echo of the twelfth stroke had died away, he heard it. A faint whispering.

When the full-moon joins Mars on the reddish tinged sky,

Follow its beam where it crosses the sign.

Once the clock has struck twelve, then behold!

From the depths the powers of hell will unfold

To help their true Master to thrive

And kill those unworthy of life.

Harry stopped dead, looking around. Who had said those words? There was no one apart from himself and Ron and Hermione, who had already reached the end of the stairs. He couldn´t imagine where those words had come from. They seemed to have been everywhere, like a huge echo.

"Ron! Hermione!" he shouted, unable to keep the uneasiness out of his voice.

They turned around, looking puzzled. "What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"Didn´t... didn´t you just hear that?" Harry spluttered.

"Hear what?"

"Well, that voice," said Harry.

"Voice?" said Ron in confusion. "I didn´t hear a voice."

Hermione had descended the stairs again and was now standing next to Harry. "You heard a voice? What sort of voice?"

Harry thought for a moment. "I don´t know. It was just a whisper."

"Could it have been like the one you heard in our second year?"

He hesitated. "Yeah... sort of. How did you...? Oh...! You mean did the voice spoke in Parseltongue?"

Hermione nodded. "What did it say, Harry? It could be important."

"It spoke in rhymes - " Harry tried to remember. "And it said something about the full moon and Mars and the powers of hell killing those who are unworthy."

"That´s cheerful," said Ron. "Know what? That sounds awfully like Slytherin stuff. Better get out of here."

"No, Ron!" said Hermione sharply. "It does sound like it´s got something to do with Slytherin and that´s why it´s important. The Ayrin, remember?" She turned towards Harry. "You know that you have to tell someone, don´t you?"

"I guess I have," said Harry, looking miserable. "But I won´t like it much. Because it´s Snape I have to tell and I bet he´s still mightily hacked off at me."

"Rather you than me," said Ron with sympathy. "Do you want us to come with you?"

Harry shook his head. "No, go to the common room. I´ll go and see Snapealone. I had better go immediately and get it over with. I bet I´ll be catching up with you sooner than we all think because Snapewill probably chuck me out after five minutes." He grimaced. "See you later!" And he headed towards the dungeons.

"Good luck, Harry!" Ron called after him before he went in the other direction with Hermione.

Harry could hear their footsteps dying away while he descended the stone steps leading steadily downwards. It grew colder and Harry shivered. He wasn´t looking forward to seeing Snape so soon again.

When he had reached the familiar door that led to Snape´s office, Harry knocked hesitantly and waited. There was no answer. He knocked again, more forcefully this time, and listened intently for any sound that might come from inside. Again, no answer.

Harry tried the door but it was locked. Maybe Snape was already in bed? Harry wondered. He went to the adjoining door which was the one to Snape´s private rooms. Harry really wasn´t very keen on enraging Snape by disturbing him in his beauty sleep, but he didn´t have much of a choice, did he?

He knocked, yet without success. Was Snape sleeping so soundly? Harry considered briefly letting his wand end explode -- maybe that was loud enough to wake Snape up -- but he dismissed the idea. He didn´t want to wake up the whole castle.

Instead, he gave it one last try. He turned the doorknob and pushed gingerly. The door went noiselessly open. Hesitantly, Harry stepped into the pitch-dark room. It was not at all like Snape to leave the door to his private rooms unlocked.

"Lumos," Harry muttered and let his wand beam glide across the room. He had never been in there before. Harry supposed Snapewould rather kiss a Blast-Ended Skrewt than let any of the students into his bedroom.

In the faint light of his wand, Harry could make out an enormous, carved wardrobe on the opposite wall; a small table with a comfortable-looking armchair; and an ornate four-poster with green velvet hangings and a worn-out, grey bedside rug. The hangings of the four-poster were drawn back and it was empty.

Now what? Harry wondered. Obviously Snapewasn´t there. Should he go up to the common room and wait until the next morning? But then Snape might have another fit of rage because Harry had waited so long. He heaved a sigh. Basically, he could do anything and Snape would always find a reason to be mad at him.

Then Harry remembered that the door had been left unlocked. Snapeprobably hadn´t gone far and would be back in a few minutes. He resolved to wait for him.

The bone-chilling cold of the room made Harry shiver, especially because he was still in his sopping wet Quidditch robes. Drawing his cloak more tightly around him, he wondered how Snape could stay in this room for more than five minutes without getting a head cold.

He started to pace the room to keep himself warm. As he passed the fireplace he stopped. Surely Snape wouldn´t mind...? Of course he will! Harry thought. But I might as well make him happy! He´s always happy when he can complain about me, isn´t he?

He pointed his wand at the empty fireplace and muttered, "Incendio!"

Flames erupted inside the grate, plunging the room into a soft orange light, and immediately, a lovely warmth spread across the room.

That´s better, Harry thought contentedly. He let his gaze wander over the sparsely furnished room. It didn´t seem that Snape spent much time there. In fact, the room looked more like an uninhabited hotel room than anyone´s bedroom. There were no personal belongings whatsoever. No pictures, no books, no socks lying around. The place was strangely bleak and uninviting. Just like Snape, Harry thought grimly. He resisted the urge to look into Snape´s wardrobe. The idea of getting caught by Snape while looking at his underwear wasn´t very appealing.

Soon sleepiness overcame Harry. He moved the high-backed armchair in front of the fireplace and slumped into it. It was soft and squashy and extremely comfortable and before he could do anything about it, he had fallen asleep.

~*~

Severus´s feet hit gravel and his blurred vision cleared, revealing the picture of a dark castle. Menacing and ill-boding, it loomed before him. Two towers on either side of it stabbed the sky like fingers raised in warning. No light was to be seen in the windows from where he stood, which made the castle look gloomy and lifeless. Thick walls of black stone greeted the visitor with the unequivocal message: Watch out!

Severus walked through the park he had apparated into, approaching the castle. The trees on either side looked dead and crippled, and weeds proliferated everywhere on the ground. The whole estate was just a sight of decay and death. Rotten like its inhabitants, Severusthought.

His footsteps on the gravel path sounded strangely loud and echoed in the absolute silence that hovered over the place. He ascended the worn-out stone steps that led to the portal. They were flanked by two columns, each bearing a statue of a creature that looked like a cross between a dog and a dragon.

Severus knocked on the heavy wooden door with an iron doorknocker in the shape of a winding serpent. The bang tore the silence around him like thunder. He winced involuntarily.

Slowly, the door creaked open and a house-elf poked its head around it, looking at him with frightened eyes. Severus could see that it was shaking uncontrollably. A sickening feeling began to spread inside him.

"Follow me, please," the house-elf said in a trembling voice, motioning for Severus to come inside. It led the way across a spacious and very badly lit entrance hall, through a side door and down some stone steps that led to the dungeons.

Severus could hear faint laughter and sounds of pleasure mixed with muffled screams from a room up ahead. He noticed that the house-elf had put its hands over its large ears.

"This room, Sir!" the house-elf squeaked in abject terror, pointing to a door to the right a bit further down the corridor. "Please don´t make Gudgygo inside again!" it pleaded. The elf´s eyes were wide with horror.

"You may go," Severus said with mounting trepidation. In a flash, the house-elf had fled up the stairs again, clearly wanting to put as much distance as possible between the room and itself.

Severus slowly approached the room from which he could still hear the most nauseating noises, and with enormous willpower he brought himself to push open the door.

The scene was sickening. The floor of the vast dungeon was splattered with blood. In the torchlight Severus could see black figures crouching over the bodies of dead Muggles that were scattered all across the room. He assumed they were dead because the screaming he had heard a few moments before had stopped. But a number of living Muggles were still tied up and gagged in one corner, waiting for their horrible end. A stench of blood and sweat filled the air and Severus felt a wave of nausea surge up inside him.

"Severus!" said a voice right beside him. Severus winced at the unexpected address and turned towards the speaker. It was Lucius. "So glad you could make it," he drawled.

"So am I," Severus lied, wrenching his features into a smile. "I see you are all enjoying yourselves."

"Yes. I hope you´ll be enjoying yourself too," Lucius said with a slight sneer.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "If you are suggesting that I should join your necrophilicactivities... you know that I have never been fond of them."

"Oh, but we have living Muggles too. Unless Nottand Avery haven´t yet used them all up, that is." Lucius gave him a searching look. "But I remember. You have always been a spoilsport, haven´t you?" he sneered. Severus didn´t like the look he was giving him at all. It was furtive and... somehow unnerving. He dreaded that Lucius might speak of him failing Draco at any moment. But Lucius said nothing of the sort.

"Why don´t you... sit down?" Lucius suggested with a smirk. He motioned him to precede to a long table on one side of the room which was laden with food.

Severus stepped over a prone body from which blood was still trickling and crossed the room to the table, where he sat cautiously down on a chair. Malfoy, who had followed, sat down next to him, still smirking. What the hell gave the creep such satisfaction? Severus´s eyes darted around the room in search of anything unusual. Lucius might well have set some trap for him in revenge for failing his son. But he couldn´t find anything.

"Help yourself!" Malfoy said pleasantly, indicating the many dishes on the table. Reluctantly, Severus spooned a bit of some indefinable mash onto a plate, but he didn´t touch any of it. Not only was he so sickened by the scenario around him that the mere thought of food brought him close to retching, but it was also anything but safe to trust Lucius. The food might be poisoned. He wouldn´t be Lucius´s first victim. Lucius considered this as a kind of joke. Of course, Severushad taken some basic antidotes with him-- just in case-- but there were too many different poisons. If it had been possible, Severuswould have taken every single antidote before he came, but it was not advisable to take the antidote without having imbibed the poison.

Just then, someone sat heavily down next to Severus and patted him on the back.

"Hey, Sev, ol´ fella!" Nott said in a thick voice that suggested he was already drunk. Blood was spattered over the front of his robes. "Long time no see."

Severus glowered. He hated being called `Sev´ and Nottknew that very well. "Apparently such a long time that you seem to have forgotten my reply to being called `Sev´," he said acidly. "Or is it just that the alcohol has wiped out the memory of my hexes?"

"Now, Sev," Nott grinned broadly. "We´re friends, aren´t we? No need to overreact." He turned towards Malfoy. "Lucius, Avery was asking if we could untie another one?" He jerked his head in the direction of the trembling Muggles that were huddled in the corner.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Avery was asking?"

Nott gave him some sort of sheepish grin that made him look even more stupid than he usually did.

"All right. But just one," Lucius drawled. "You know they have to last all night. If I don´t stop you, the night will be only half gone and we´ll have none of them left. We can´t have that. And don´t forget... there´s still the surprise." The corners of Lucius´s mouth twitched as if he were trying to suppress a smirk.

"The sur... oh... the surprise!" Nottgave Severus a fleeting sideways glance and sniggered. Severus thought it sounded a bit fake and he didn´t like the look of things at all. It almost seemed as if they had plotted something against him. He was starting to get genuinely worried.

" A surprise?" he inquired, careful not to let his worry show.

"Yes," Malfoy replied with a supercilious air. "I have a little surprise for you. For all of you."

"And what is this surprise about?" Severus asked suspiciously.

"Well," Lucius sneered. "If I told you that, it wouldn´t be a surprise anymore, would it?" He gave Nott a sign with a nod of his head.

"Come, Sev," Nott said on cue. "Let´s drink to our friendship. Here, have some brandy." He shoved a glass into Severus´s hand. Did they want to get him drunk? Severus wondered. He noticed with a turn of his stomach that the glass in his hand was sticky with blood. But Notthad already touched his glass to Severus´s, and he had no choice but to drink. Severus only sipped at the liquid and put the glass quickly down again.

"And now, old friend," Nott said with a hiccup, laying a heavy hand on Severus´s shoulder. "Let´s have a chat with those Muggles and Mudbloods, eh?"

"No, thanks," Severus sneered and disgustedly shoved Nott´shand from his shoulder. "You know I was never one to rape Muggles."

"Still the old spoilsport, I see," Nott smirked. "You should come and see Avery, though. He´s been missing you."

"I thought Avery was far too occupied with inspecting corpses?" Severussaid dryly, but nonetheless he forced himself to get up and follow Nott to the back of the room.

There, blood was spread even more excessively across the floor. Severuscounted six corpses and over one of them Avery was cowering. He really didn´t want to know what Avery was doing with it.

"Oy, Avery!" Nott called. "Look who´s come."

Avery abandoned the corpse and looked up. "Snape!" he grinned, getting up. "How nice of you to let yourself be seen." He took Severus´s hand and shook it. Avery´s grip was strangely slippery, and when he let go, Severus saw that his own hand was smeared with blood as well.

"Yes, really great to see you again," Severus replied with a rigid smile, looking for something he could wipe his hands on.

"Lucius said we can untie another one," Nott told Avery with a wink. Avery´s face lit up with a horrible smile. "I suggest Sevhere should help us," Nott added.

"Yes, he should," Avery confirmed with a sideways glance at Severus. "You haven´t indulged in quite a long time, Snape."

"You know that I never cared to join in your twisted sense of amusement," Severussaid with disgust. His eyes fell on the corpse Avery had been crouching over before, and he quickly looked away again. It wasn´t a pleasant sight.

"You weren´t like that in the old days, Snape," Avery said, throwing him a sharp look. "Remember? You used to have fun with those Muggles just like us. What is it, Snape? You didn´t get scruples, did you?" He gave a derisive laugh.

Severus grabbed Avery by the front of his bloodstained robes. "Did you just say scruples?" he hissed at the startled Death Eater. "Maybe your question would be best answered by the demonstration of some nice hexes on your own body?"

"I never questioned that, old boy," Avery choked, giving a fake laugh.

Severus wiped his blood-smeared hand on Avery´s robes and let go of him with a disgusted snort. "I hope you will never do it again," he said in a threatening tone.

"But why don´t you just demonstrate it on one of these Mudbloods?" Avery demanded. Now that he was out of Severus´sgrip, his courage seemed to have returned. "It would surely eliminate the doubt in all of us." His eyes were narrowed and he stared at Severusinsolently.

Nott, meanwhile, had dragged one of the tied-up victims over to them. The woman´s eyes were wide with horror.

"Well, Severus?" said a cold, scornful voice behind him. Lucius had joined them. "Untie her."

He didn´t really have a choice. Most of the eyes in the room were on him now, and all were expectant. Severus mentally cursed himself for having come. Then again, he had known that he couldn´t get out of it forever. Sooner or later the Death Eaters were bound to notice something. He had promised Dumbledore never to do it again. And he had made the same promise to himself. But it was inevitable now.

Slowly, he undid the gag and then the ropes that were binding the woman. He hesitated. She stood before him in a dirty, torn dress, sobbing silently, and her eyes were pleading mutely. A tight knot formed suddenly in Severus´sstomach. He couldn´t do that...

"Well?" sneered Malfoy´s ice-cold voice behind him. "Do you need help?" Malfoy must have nodded to Avery, because the latter stepped forward, grabbed the woman´s dress at the neckline, and tore it apart.

The woman gave a choked scream. She was standing completely naked in front of Severus. Someone gave him a shove and he stumbled forward.

Oh, God! I am so sorry!

With a slightly trembling hand he reached out and touched her shoulder. The woman was shaking and her fearful eyes were still pleading desperately. He ran his hand down her spine. It all felt so familiar. The soft skin under his hands, the pleading eyes, the choked sobs...

And then his vision blurred and other women appeared before his eyes. Women he had raped. Tortured. Killed. Their eyes were pleading for mercy. Desperate, haunted eyes. He could hear sobbing, imploring voices and his own harsh laughter that mocked their despair. A screaming started. A screaming in pain and desperation. Then one voice detached itself from the others. No, Severus! Don´t! Save yourself! I won´t let you die for me! Lily´s voice. It grew louder and louder, filling his ears, threatening to split his head...

"No!"

The word rang shrilly through the silence around him. The Death Eaters were staring at him. For a moment no one moved. Severus noticed that he was clutching at his head. Slowly, he lowered his hands, then turned on his heel, heading for the door.

Rage was coursing through him, mostly at his own foolish behaviour. How could he have slipped up like that? What had called up all those old memories?

"Wait, Severus!" Malfoy´s sneering voice called from behind. "You don´t want to miss the surprise."

Severus stopped and turned around. "Your surprise can´t be so important that it can´t wait," he snapped. "You´ll excuse me, I have a headache."

"Oh, but this surprise will please you, Severus," Lucius said with a smile. "I´m sure it will. And it would be such a pity if you missed it." He approached Severus, put a friendly arm around his shoulders, and gently pushed him towards a side-door. "In fact, I think it is already the right time," he added, "for our special guest."

Special guest? Severus had a terrible premonition...

Lucius opened the door and held it open for the Death Eaters to enter, Severusamong the last to do so. With his heart in his mouth, he tried to see through the mass of Death Eaters. And with a jolt he realised that his suspicions had been correct. In the centre of the room stood...

Voldemort.

His red, merciless stare raking each of his followers, the Dark Lord loomed threateningly in his horrible majesty while the Death Eaters stood queued up to kiss the hem of his robes. At that moment, Severusknew that it had all been planned. Every little detail of the night´s happenings. They had set him a trap. All of the other Death Eaters had known the Dark Lord would attend the revel, only he had been left in ignorance. He could see it in their faces: they showed no surprise at all.

Malfoy had purposely made him believe that Voldemort wouldn´t be present, so that he should weight himself in false security. By adding the word `informal´ to the invitation, which usually indicated a private revel among friends without the Dark Lord, Malfoy had deceived him and had made sure he would meet Voldemort unprepared.

So this was Malfoy´s revenge. He had told Voldemort every little detail he had heard from his wretched son about Severus, and had cut off every way for him to prepare an excuse, probably in the hope that Severus would get into a tangle with his lies when faced with the Dark Lord. He should have known Lucius would play him false. What else could you expect from a Malfoy?

Severus noticed that his hesitation had made him the last in line to venerate the Dark Lord. Heart pounding painfully against his ribcage, he forced himself to move forward.

Would the Dark Lord punish him? He couldn´t think of one single excuse that would justify his treatment of Draco, nor his behaviour back in the celebration room.

The distance from the door to the Dark Lord seemed the longest he had ever walked in his entire life. Seconds felt like minutes, inches like metres. He was acutely aware of every movement he made, of each step he took. His knees felt strangely wobbly and for one horrible second he thought he would lose his footing and fall to the floor.

Then, finally, he came to a halt in front of the Dark Lord. Severuskept his eyes downcast, unable to look Voldemort in the face. He could almost feel those red eyes of purest evil scrutinizing him intently. Slowly, he lowered himself to his knees and with a trembling hand he reached for the hem of the Dark Lord´s robes to kiss. Severusfelt a wave of nausea well up inside him as his lips touched the dark material.

For years he had tainted his honour, his life, his soul by paying reverence to those accursed robes. But now, feeling the extent of the sacrilege he was committing by doing so, he could hardly restrain his revulsion.

"Severus," the Dark Lord said in a low hiss, "how nice to see you. I hope the revel my faithful servant Lucius has organised pleases you?" Severuscould hear the cold amusement in the Dark Lord´s voice.

"Yes, my Lord," he said weakly, facing the Dark Lord´s boots.

"I´m glad to hear it," the Dark Lord said. "However, I have heard some unpleasant things about you, Severus. Do you know what I´m talking about?"

Severus hesitated. He didn´t know just how much the Dark Lord knew. So he lied. "No."

"No?" Voldemort said in mock surprise. "Then I shall have to spell it out for you." He paused and started to pace in a circle around the kneeling Severus. "Lucius here has told me that you have been compromising him by behaving very ungenerously towards his son. Is that true?" The Dark Lord stopped in his pacing. "Look at me!"

Obediently, Severus raised his head and met the Dark Lord´s hideous red stare. He swallowed hard. "Master, I considered it as my duty in my teaching position," he replied in a steady voice.

"So?" the Dark Lord said, and his red stare bore inexorably into Severus´seyes. "You give priority to the rules of that Muggle-loving fool Dumbledore and you think a faithful member of the fold deserves to be compromised?"

"My Lord, I---" Snape began to deny it but Voldemort cut him off.

"Silence!" The hiss was blood curdling. "That is not everything," he continued. Severus´s heart missed a beat. What else did the Dark Lord know? Surely not...

"Witnesses have seen you behaving most suspiciously." The Dark Lord had resumed his pacing. "It almost seems as if you are unfaithful to me... You are seen extraordinarily often in the presence of Harry Potter. Not during your pitiful lessons. And it seems that you have been plotting something to defy me. Is that true?" Each syllable sounded as if it was cut out of ice, making Severus´s blood run cold. The Dark Lord´s snake-like face was a mask of fury. He was looming over Severus, his red eyes flaming like fire.

Severus remained silent. Anyone in their right mind would probably have denied all the accusations immediately, but Severus didn´t have the strength to do so. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead as those inhuman red eyes continued to rake his face.

Then, abruptly, the Dark Lord grabbed Severus by the hair and jerked his head backwards so that he was facing the ceiling. Severusbit back a yelp of pain.

"I asked you if that is true!" the Dark Lord repeated, each word a thunderclap. His reptilian face was a mere inch away from Severus´s, and Severuscould feel the hot, contaminated breath of the Dark Lord on his face. He tasted acid in his mouth and had a sudden urge to vomit.

"No," he choked, gritting his teeth as the Dark Lord continued to pull at his hair. There was a faint rustling sound, and without having to look, Severusknew what it meant. Voldemort had his wand. What would he do? What would his punishment be? Severus dreaded what was coming. The cold tip of Voldemort´s wand touched his temple.

"You disappoint me, Severus," Voldemort whispered in a low, threatening hiss. He began to run the tip of his wand down the side of Severus´s cheek and neck, in a way that mimicked a lover´s gesture, while he still held Severus´s head back with his other hand. "You have such a beautiful mind, Severus. Sharp and cunning. It would be a shame if anything happened to it."

Severus felt fear clutching his chest like a giant iron claw, making him gasp for breath. What did the Dark Lord mean by that?

"Be warned!" The tip of the wand stabbed into the side of Severus´sneck and he groaned involuntarily. "If I hear about any unfaithful behaviour on your side again... you shall rue the day you were born. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, my Lord," Severus groaned out. The grip on his hair was released and the wand tip was removed from his neck. Severusbrought his head back into its normal position and looked up at the Dark Lord. Voldemort stood impassively before him.

"You won´t be punished today..." the Dark Lord said, twirling his wand between his white, spidery fingers.

"Thank you, my Lord," Severus gasped, relief flooding him. "I don´t deserve your mercy." He crawled a few inches towards the Dark Lord, still on his knees, and kissed the hem of the Dark Lord´s robes once again.

"Yes, I think so too," the Dark Lord purred, caressing his wand. "That´s why I think a little reminder is due. So you don´t forget..."

Severus stopped dead. Like a punch, fear hit him again. He could hear the dull throbbing of his blood in his ears. Which curse? There was only one to be considered and the thought of it made his blood run cold. The one curse feared most among the Death Eaters... Severus had experienced it a few times, and yet each time the pain had hit him with such force that it damned all the inferior memories of the experiences before.

The Dark Lord´s robes rustled as he pointed his wand at Severus with an almost idle gesture. Severus´s muscles were painfully tensed as he awaited the blow. And then the single horrible word fell. It was a mere whisper, but it rang in Severus´sears as if it had been bellowed.

"Crucio!"