Perhaps Another Time, Severus [A Severus Snape Fanfiction]

2000

2000

Shaylah dropped to her knees in the bushes outside Malfoy Manor, peering inside the giant window into the ornately decorated den. A large table was lined with Voldemort's most trusted Death Eaters, the Dark Lord himself at the head, his appearance alone causing bile to bubble in Shaylah's stomach. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, their son Draco, Barty Crouch Jr., and Fenrir Greyback were those she recognized immediately. Voldemort's ranks had grown so rapidly in the recent years that Shaylah struggled to keep up with all the names and faces that traipsed through those doors.

Voldemort held up his hands, inviting them to sit, that damn snake coiling around his feet like a faithful dog. She watched, concealed by the thick vegetation, as Snape joined them, filling the last seat, the one to Voldemort's left. She hadn't heeded his warning in the pub, though his words constantly invaded her mind. What happens after this conversation is out of my control. It had been a month since, and she had yet to approach him again but she couldn't help but wonder why he had bothered to give her any warning at all and why he hadn't killed her when he had the perfect opportunity in the alcove.

She waved her wand over her ear, amplifying the voices inside, though the window still stood between them. "We are finding more Mudbloods each day my Lord. Ticking down their numbers quickly," said a familiar voice.

Rage flickered in her chest as she thought of her father, the bastard that murdered him could very well be sitting in that room patting themselves on the back for a job well done. They hunted others down like dogs, treated them like animals, yet they were nothing of the sort. Her father had been kind, educated, talented but it didn't change his fate. Evil saw what it wanted to see and the wicked people in that room saw nothing beyond blood status.

Heat flared in her cheeks, the rage spreading as their leader spoke, "Fine news!" Voldemort's arms stretched out in a congratulatory gesture and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself quiet. "Severus! What of the Order?" he asked, letting out an eerie chuckle, so proud of the destruction they rout. Vile, they were utterly vile.

Snape's back was to the window, so she couldn't see any expressions he might have made, however, his silky voice was as clear as if he were whispering in her ear as he said, "No leads yet, my Lord. Their headquarters remains hidden, though I have an ear to the window that it may be near Mixten."

Shaylah and Voldemort both raised a brow at his words, but only the woman in the bushes picked up the message that was carefully placed there for her. She was the ear to the window and Mixed In was the pub where she had approached him. It was peculiar that he would be addressing her, and unnerving that he had not made her presence known to the rest of the room. "We will find them Severus, they can't hide forever when the world is crawling with those who are all too willing to kill them." Voldemort laid a hand on Severus' shoulder and Shaylah could have sworn she saw the man shudder imperceptively under his touch.

Shaylah left Malfoy Manor with no more information than she had arrived with, the disgusting statistics they had discussed still rattling in her mind. The repopulation efforts were sickening in themselves, forcing women to reproduce with those vile men who would follow Voldemort to the ends of the world and burn everything in their path in hopes of producing powerful full blooded wizards and witches. Those would be the first things to go when this was over, when the world could heal from the hell inflicted upon it.

Apparating down the street from the small pub, she pressed her back to the cold stone of the nearest building to cool her body. Her chest and face were still heated, her heart still pounding. How could he have known? Why didn't he out her?

She was doing her best to summon back the confidence she had so easily found last time she was so close to him but this time it was a struggle. She watched his black robes disappear through the door of the pub. The little town was mostly wizards and witches, very few Muggles, so his choice of attire was not out of sorts.

He seemed to frequent the establishment and she had followed several times, it was far from Malfoy Manor but not suspiciously far. As if he wanted to sway on the outside of the radar he had created. He held a lot of authority, making the rules meant for others to follow, and they all answered to him, and he to Voldemort. He was powerful in his world, he was dangerous in hers.

One final, deep breath summoned all the confidence and composure she could muster. When a sweep of her surroundings revealed no prying eyes, she crossed the street and entered the pub, finding him quickly, as if she were drawn to the dark figure in the back booth with an extra drink waiting patiently across from him. Eyes watched her from all angles as she crossed the room but she pretended not to notice as she sauntered by, her hips swaying with all the confidence of someone who belonged there, but he noticed. Dark eyes scanned the surrounding faces that watched her, especially those who stared too long, as if he were noting them for later. She kept her back straight as she strolled up to his table and drew back the chair. "You're a bright girl, aren't you?" he muttered into his glass as she took her seat, dark eyes peering over the rim, "You deciphered my message."

She snorted. "It's not as if it was written in hieroglyphs."

She wrapped her fingers one by one around the glass he had waiting for her. "My ear to the window, you've still been following me though I warned you not to," he said, waving a penalizing finger.

"Guess I'm not so smart after all," she quipped, shrugging. Tapping a finger against her glass, she debated taking a sip but decided against it. It had been poured before she arrived and this man was a potions master, she couldn't trust it. Gripping her wand inside the pocket of her coat, she turned toward the bar, glass in hand, pretending to drink as the liquid disappeared, never touching her lips. She was sure she had been deft enough that Snape hadn't noticed but if he did, it would just assure him that her presence here was not a sign of trust. The glass thudded against the table as she placed it upside down, gesturing to the barkeep for another as she caught his eye. Almost immediately the stout old man brought another drink and she thanked him with a nod.

"I didn't poison the drink," he stated, a smirk gracing his face, "I'm a potions master, not a murderer."

She snorted as she took a swig of the whiskey, "That has yet to be proven."

"I've had plenty of chances to kill you, Shaylah Wilde, and yet here you sit," he said, gesturing toward her, "unharmed." Her eyes widened as her name fell off his tongue. His smirk only widened. "I know all about you," he purred, those dark eyes suddenly sharp enough to cut, "I'm sorry about your father."

Her blood chilled in her veins at his mention. How dare he. Snape's dark eyes didn't wander, they stayed connected with hers. He was despicable. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to think of the right words to spit back at him. "So why haven't you killed me, Severus? You had all the chances and yet here I sit," she made her own gesture, mocking him. It wasn't the string of expletives she wanted, but it's what came out.

He hummed, the sound throaty and smooth, "Perhaps the timing wasn't right," he said, brushing the stray strands of raven hair from his eyes, "Or, perhaps I never intended to at all," he finished, shrugging.

She narrowed her eyes as he took a swig of his drink. "What are you playing at?" she mumbled.

He cocked a brow as he sat his glass down with a thump. Though his tone was a bit cruel, he still didn't cause the bile to rise in her throat. "Stop before you get yourself hurt." He drew out a pause between each word and somehow it made the warning more sinister.

Standing, she wrapped her coat tightly around her. "I'll be seeing you soon, Severus." He watched until she was gone, his gaze searing the back of her neck, along with several others. She could have sworn she heard him shout as the door closed behind her.