A Gentleman's Footsteps

"Severus."

The greeting came from behind, but Severus Snape did not deign to turn, much less return the greeting. He recognised the voice as that of Lucius Malfoy, and did not feel any need to respond.

"May I be the first to congratulate you on your marvellous duplicity," continued Lucius. For a moment Severus could not fathom what his less than favourite ally was attempting to insinuate. Lucius, unsatisfied with this lack of reaction, strode up behind Severus and, placing his hands on his shoulders, spun Severus to face him.

Severus recoiled in a more or less dignified manner from Lucius' touch, taking a step backwards and brushing some imaginary taint off his shoulders with an expression of great distaste. "It brings many dangers, does it not, being a double agent, Severus?" said Lucius, an edge of impatience somewhat spoiling his triumphant tone.

Severus' blood ran cold, but he kept his outward composure. "What do you mean, Lucius?" he asked warily. "Is there something you wish to tell me?"

"You have no right to play games here, Severus," warned Lucius. "Not unless you would like our mutual friend Lord Voldemort to hear of your nocturnal activities."

"And where is your poorly fabricated proof of this, Lucius?" asked Severus contemptuously, still attempting to brazen out the accusation.

"I assure you that I have quite proof enough," replied Lucius with an equal measure of contempt, "and in any case, you cannot risk that I have, can you, Severus?"

Severus could not help but acknowledge the truth in Lucius' words. If the miserable snake had indeed got hold of some kind of proof of his involvement with the Ministry, Severus' life was entirely in his hands, and although there was no end to the petty power games that Lucius could play with this information, nothing Lucius could do would possibly compare with Voldemort's punishment for such a crime. Lucius watched Severus' expression sink slowly into this realisation, with a gloating triumph rising in his own features.

"What would you have me do, Lucius?" asked Severus, bitterly. He was not used to being defeated, to being so fully in the power of the enemy.

"Whatever I ask," said Lucius, relishing the words, "whenever I ask, for as long as your miserable life extends."

The nights to come were to be dark indeed, and full of the fear of those quiet, deliberate footsteps, a gentleman's tread on the hard stone floors coming to deliver yet another round of humiliation and despair. Worst of all, Severus could neither lift a hand in defence, nor tell a single soul, for the one thought which kept him sane through it all was that whatever Lucius could do to him, Lord Voldemort's punishment would be infinitely worse. On occasion he wondered if death by his own hand would be preferable to this existence; often it seemed as if Voldemort's rule would never end and hence Lucius' hold over him would never diminish. Yet he could not bring himself to give his enemy that final victory.

One man had more to rejoice over than most when Voldemort was finally brought down.