Consuming Shadows

Chapter 38

Smoke wafted from the merrily bubbling cauldron in front of him, filling the air with sour fumes.

His keen eyes watched as the liquid's shade darkened from a pastel pink, into a blood red. His hand stirred it with precision borne from years of experience, maintaining the perfect speed as it began to thicken.

He reached for the dried newts' tails and carefully dropped three into the brew. Instantly, the potion turned a gentle yellow, and its scent changed to resemble caramel.

Severus sighed a quiet breath and cast a stasis charm over the cauldron, preserving his efforts and ensuring the bone-mending potion would still be viable when he returned.

He peeled off his gloves and rubbed at his eyes, trying to get rid of the faint burning sensation there from his lack of sleep.

He glanced at the clock on the opposite wall and grimaced at how late the hour was.

He had missed Lucius' ball it seemed, and while he was pleased to not have to spend the evening surrounded by drunken buffoons, he dreaded his next encounter with the blonde and his tenacious wife.

He did not doubt that Narcissa was already plotting ways to get him to attend her next soirée.

Her obsession with making him socialise was almost amusing, if it did not so sharply contradict with Severus' desire to be left alone. He rather enjoyed his self-imposed isolation, and rarely ventured outside his home these days. Exempting the few times his Lord called for him, Severus preferred to remain amongst his texts and potions.

It was better that way. Less chance of him being reminded of her.

He pushed himself out of his brewing room, escaping the thought of her before it led him down an unsavoury road once again.

The rest of his house was shockingly silent, each room holding an unnatural stillness, one that grew stronger as the years trickled by.

He passed the opening to the lounge room, only to freeze on the threshold. Slowly, he turned to stare into the room, at the man standing there casually perusing through a book from one of the shelves.

He swallowed back the instinctual curse that had sprung to his lips, recognising the man's profile even without the oppressive force of his magic permeating the space. He carefully stepped into the room, the walls around his mind solidifying with but a thought. "My Lord."

Voldemort turned in place, a soft smile on his face, so at odds with the harsh way he snapped the book closed. "Severus. It has been far too long. How have you been?"

Severus tilted his head slightly, wondering. "I've been well, my Lord." His eyes flickered over the man, taking in the impeccable suit. "I apologise for my absence tonight." He began, only to stop when the man waved his hand flippantly.

"Unnecessary, my friend. We both know you find the frivolity distasteful. And your time is too valuable to waste it on such things."

Severus accepted the excuse and compliment with a small, respectful bow of his head. "May I ask what brings you here, my Lord? I have not yet finished the potions you requested."

Voldemort merely hummed, his red eyes fixed on the mantle. There was no judgement in the man's expression over Severus less than majestic living arrangements. They had long reached an understanding on such matters.

"I am not here for an update. I require something else."

Severus blinked, but waited for the man to continue. The Dark Lord was not someone to be harried into speaking. He would reveal what he wanted in his own time, and nothing Severus said would change that.