chapter 4

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Severus awoke the next morning feel refreshed and exuberant after a nice long sleep; lying next to the one man he loved the most. He sat up and looked down at the sleeping Voldemort, with a very small smile. One finger lingered on the Dark Lord's cheek, smoothing along the skin, feeling for any blemishes. There were not any at all.

The Dark Lord's face wasn't ugly once you got used to it, yet it wasn't stunningly beautiful. Like Severus. That's how he would be described in the normal way of things, probably average. He would hate for Voldemort to be stunningly handsome, he'd feel as though he was below the Dark Lord, not equal, as he often liked to portray.

Voldemort turned over, and sighed, his head was very close to Severus's own head. There was silence for a while, and Severus could not help to stare at the face in front of him. His thoughts were broken when the sleepy Dark Lord spoke. "Stop staring at me, you horrible brat."

Severus's lip curled. "It is hard not to when you are right in front of me," he replied indignantly. One of Voldemort's eyes snapped open. It was hard to tell if it was meant to be a glare, but Severus supposed it was. "Do not make me turn over. You are so lovely to look at." Voldemort opened his other eye, smirked, and shut them again.

"You are quite strange, really, Severus," he said, but his tone was softer.

Severus smiled. "That is why you love me," he replied, trying not to laugh. He stretched, and yawned. "Voldemort, should be getting up now."

Voldemort's response was unpredictable; he pulled the covers over his head and burrowed down below them. "You are not my mother, Severus," he muttered. Severus smirked, and followed him under covers. Voldemort put one arm around Severus's waist and pulled him closer, for a very welcomed good morning kiss. They emerged several minutes later, ready to get up for the day.

"When are you going to the Order meeting?" Voldemort asked over their breakfast of toast and bacon.

Severus shrugged. "Whenever you are busy, I would hate to be in the way of you," he replied.

Voldemort smirked, and leant over the table to kiss Severus on the lips. "You shall go when it is best for you, Severus Snape."

Severus raised an eyebrow. Truthfully, he would rather not go anywhere, and he'd rather that Voldemort didn't want him to go either, but he knew he'd have to in the end. Half an hour later he apparated at the bottom of Grimmauld Place, and made his way up to number 12. With a sigh, he opened the door and entered. It was dark in there, and silent. He shuddered. He was about to see Sirius Black once more, in his own territory. He opened the next door, and followed to where he could hear voices.

It was the kitchen, Molly Weasley, Remus Lupin, someone with bubble-gum pink hair (Severus guessed it was Tonks) and most annoyingly, Sirius Black. Severus smirked around, and entered the kitchen, shutting the door behind him.

"Dumbledore told me there was a meeting today," he said coldly, mostly to Remus.

"There is," Sirius snapped; the look of hatred in his eyes adamant. Severus's eyes were just the same. "In half an hour, though I don't know why you're asking."

Severus's lip curled further. "I happen to be playing one of the key roles in this war, Black. What are you doing?" he sneered. Sirius muttered something about 'giving up houses', but shoved past Severus to escape from something that was obviously getting to him. Severus smirked. "Lupin, show me where the meeting hall is, please?" he asked.

Remus Lupin stood up, begrudgingly, and led Severus into the hall. "You shouldn't be so hard on Sirius," he said softly.

Severus laughed coldly. "I have a reason to hate him; he has no reason to hate me, you of all people should know that."

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