His Masterpiece

Chapter 10

It was Bellatrix's birthday and instead of gifting her jewelry or furs, the Dark Lord brought her a young, blonde woman to do with as she pleased. Severus did not drink much, the stench of alcohol reminded him of his father, but he swallowed down glass after glass of champagne in an effort to block out the woman's screams.

Lucius's ballroom had been decorated with balloons and streamers. There was a banner above the door that announced 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BELLA!' in big, cheerful letters. A set of enchanted instruments was playing a waltz in the corner. Lucius and Narcissa were dancing, his hand far too low on her waist. "Go on," Mulciber jeered and slapped the Muggle on her bare bottom, forcing her to crawl naked across the floor. Bellatrix had stripped the skin off the palms of her hands layer by layer. Bloody handprints dotted the floor as she crawled, her body heaving with the force of her sobs.

Fingers curled into his hair, scratching at the base of his head. Severus desperately tried to empty his mind of the disgust he felt. The Dark Lord's breath was warm against his ear. "Not enjoying the festivities?"

"I'm not one for parties," Severus answered. He watched as Mulciber reached for the Muggle again, squeezing the flesh of her rump, his fingers dipping between her thighs until Bellatrix slapped his hand away.

"She's my present," she said, her voice taking on the whiny quality of a child who did not want to share.

"Hm," the Dark Lord hummed, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned. "Perhaps, with just a little change..."

He could feel the Dark Lord sink into his mind, and Severus scrambled to hide his most damning thoughts and memories. He had read about Occlumency, just a short excerpt in an encyclopedia during one of the many hours he had spent hiding in the Hogwarts library, but he had no idea if what he was doing was actually Occlumency or not. It felt more like sweeping the dust underneath a rug than creating a mental barrier. But the Dark Lord didn't seem to notice, or if he did he didn't care to mention it, and when Severus next blinked the woman had disappeared and James Potter was crawling around in her place.

The illusion was uncanny. Potter looked exactly as he had when Severus last saw him over a year ago, but now he was naked, crying wetly, bruised and bleeding. It was as if the Dark Lord had plucked from his brain one of his many revenge fantasies and brought it to life. Severus might have even enjoyed the sight if he didn't know the truth behind the illusion.

His stomach curdled and the illusion shattered. Bellatrix struck the girl with a short whip. "Go on, give the boys a show," she said with a vicious smile.

"Careful, Snape, if you keep drinking like that you'll pass out," a man named Pembry smiled as he came up to them, bowing deferentially to the Dark Lord. Severus vaguely recognized him from school. He was ahead of him by two or three years, and had played Quidditch.

"One can only hope," Severus sneered. "I'd rather be unconscious than suffer through another hour of boredom."

"Still the haughty bitch you always were, I see. I'd figured Potter and his little friends would have beaten that out of you by the time you graduated." Pembry's gaze flickered over to the Dark Lord, who looked on with mounting amusement. "Or fucked out of you."

"Oh, I can be nice when I want to be," Severus said, letting his voice drop an octave. He sank into the Dark Lord's hand, where it still lingered on the back of his neck. Let the work see who he belonged to. "You're just not worth it."

Pembry's mouth twitched. "Worth it? Everyone else here has earned their place in the Dark Lord's inner circle. We've all killed to prove our worth. You just spread your legs-"

"Now, now," the Dark Lord smoothly interrupted, still smiling. "Severus has many talents."

"Of course, my Lord," Pembry murmured, averting gaze.