A Dance Through Thyme (Harry Potter)

Mord

Thank you to all who commented with condolences about my Grandfather’s passing. They were very much appreciated. As I mentioned in the post on the previous chapter, things are looking better and brighter now.

 

The room was cold, but this could be ignored. What was more pertinent was the silence. All eyes were averted towards the floor, however each occupant of the room had their ears pricked up, waiting for any new piece of information.

Finally, Voldemort spoke.

“Severus,” his voice was quiet, but clear enough to be heard across the whole room without any difficulty. “You once asked me to spare your life as you could be of ‘use’ to me. That time has come.”

Severus was using the majority of his concentration on trying to keep Voldemort out of his mind. His master must have been desperate because it was becoming increasingly difficult.

Every pair of eyes was aimed at Severus. The meeting so far had been several Death Eaters gloating about the damage they had inflicted on a group of unsuspecting muggles, and the memory of the conversation was enough to make Severus’ stomach heave.

“I do not believe that now is the best opportunity to impart my knowledge to you, my Lord,” replied Snape, striving to keep his tone conversational yet meaningful.

The Dark Lord genuinely looked perplexed. Nobody had ever dared question him before about such a matter. His stare at Snape intensified.

“Do you wish to divulge a reason for that, Severus?”

“Again, it is something which is better spoken of in private. I do not wish to hide information from you, my Lord, just from some others who may…misunderstand.”

Voldemort’s eyes narrowed, but he did not react immediately.

After a moment of thought, he briskly clapped his hands in front of him several times.

“Very well,” he spoke to the room at large. “Severus and I shall speak privately. You will wait to be invited back into the room.”

The other Death Eaters took a moment to register the instructions. Their master had never adjourned a meeting for the sake of a private interlude. Whatever was to be said was usually shared amongst them. Nobody was a favourite.

Finally the sound of scraping chairs and footsteps died away, leaving Severus alone with Voldemort.

“What is it, Severus, that is so important that it can not be shared amongst the others?”

Severus had to suppress a shiver. He could not look into his master’s eyes, but he knew that they were trying to pierce through him.

“It is about Lily Evans, my Lord. Or rather, I should say Lily Potter now that she had married that blood-traitor… Really, though, the story begins with Hogwarts and Dumbledore.”

Snape began to relay the story to his master: Dumbledore had been having increasing difficulty in securing teachers for various posts within the school. The rarity of seers had made him desperate and he had sought the help of the granddaughter of a true seer.

Knowing that what he was about to do could invite death upon him, he took the chance. At least Lily would then get what she deserved. She could have had a life without want. She could have forever been safe; but she had made her choice, as he had made his.

Pulling out a grubby piece of paper from a pocket deep within his robes, Snape began to recite the words hastily scribbled:

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power that the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…”

It was only at this point that Snape looked up to see the reaction of his Master. The fact that he was still alive to do even that was promising; or so he thought, until Voldemort lifted his wand with a strike that equaled only a cobra.