The Return Of Snape [Voldemort X Severus Snape]

chapter 10

Severus had nearly spilt the entire potion when he noticed what time it was on Thursday night. The hour hand was directly on the twelve at the top, and the minute hand was a good two minutes over it. Why had his mark not burned then? When he looked at it, he noticed the colour. Black. It had burned and he had not even noticed it.

He pushed the cauldron off the heat, and ran upstairs to change his clothing, before Disapparating to the Manor. When he pulled the front doors open, he noticed that the whole place was empty. Cursing himself, he walked towards the main meeting room and knew that he was going to be in trouble when he walked in. Slowly, he opened the doors, and marched forwards. He could see the eyes behind the masks flitting from side to side, watching him walking towards the circle. In the centre was Voldemort, and a pale Draco Malfoy was knelt in front of him.

He bowed slowly to Voldemort, before walking around and reaching his place in the circle, which would have been in between Lucius and Rodolphus if they had been there. "I tell you the time of the meeting before-hand and you still manage to be late, Severus," Voldemort hissed in his direction. When Severus looked up, the Dark Lord's gaze was upon him. He was about to apologise a few times when Voldemort continued to speak, though Severus noticed the gaze shift back to Draco a split second after he had continued. "Before I can give you this most important task, you must first bear the Dark Mark. Are you willing?"

"I am, my Lord," Malfoy replied swiftly, and for a moment, he sounded just like his father. Voldemort must have noticed, because a smirk suddenly appeared on his face.

"Then you must first prove to me that you are capable of wearing the mark." This was the part of the initiation Severus hated. The humiliation was always the worst part, Severus was always glad that he had received his mark before this became a custom the Dark Lord liked to keep. He shut his eyes, and tightened his hands together behind his back. The Dark Lord would now select another Death Eater to assist in this part, and Severus felt sure at least ninety nine percent of the men and women in the room were secretly dying to be the one.

"Severus." The man in question opened his eyes, to see Voldemort's somewhat amused gaze upon him. The rest of the circle were envious, the Dark Lord always chose his favoured member to do this, so that meant that once more, Severus was at the top, above even Bellatrix Lestrange. Most in the circle supposed that was because of her slip up at the Ministry, though Bellatrix was the only one that knew different.

"My Lord?" he responded, trying to make his voice calm, but at the same time, trying to make a begging plea to his lover.

"Come here." Severus stepped forwards, and wondered if there was going to be a way out of this. After a second's consideration, he knew that there was never going to be. "We will be needing some of young Mister Malfoy's blood, Severus."

Severus nodded, watching the Dark Lord with a look of contempt. Malfoy so far had not dared to look up, but Severus knew how he felt. "Of course, my Lord," he replied softly. His Master surveyed him for a long moment, and Severus found himself putting up his mental barriers slightly to stop the Dark Lord from penetrating his mind. After what seemed an eternity, Voldemort looked back to Malfoy.

"Crucio," he whispered, his wand pointing on Draco. The teenager fell forwards, maybe to hide his face, maybe because he was shocked at the amount of pain he was receiving, but he made no sound. Severus was impressed, though he doubted that Voldemort would be. "If it is your wish to be a Death Eater," the Dark Lord started after he had relinquished the spell, "You will gladly accept my punishments, and carry out my orders. You will remain loyal only to me, and you will tell no one whom is outside of this room where your loyalties lay. Do you understand?"

Draco struggled back to kneeling. "Yes, my Lord," he panted, his breathing still rough from the curse.

"Then we shall begin." Voldemort gestured to Severus, who stepped forwards. "Get up," Severus ordered Draco quietly. The boy stood up, awkwardly looking up at his teacher. Eyes cold, Severus pulled Draco's robes from his shoulders, and unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it off with nimble fingers. Behind him, he could hear how Voldemort's own breathing had changed, telling Severus that Voldemort clearly wanted to be receiving his attentions like that.