What I Must Ask You To Do

The Dark Lord had returned. Just like Professor Dumbledore had always known that he would. It was the reason why he had kept Severus Snape so close to him all this time, and Severus had no delusions about that. He knew what he had been signing up for thirteen years ago when he had promised to give Dumbledore anything that he asked for in exchange for his help.

“It is time for two of our number to recognize each other for what they are,” Dumbledore was saying to those few of them who remained in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. “Sirius….if you could resume your usual form.”

Severus’ head jerked up at the triggering name he had held in contempt since the age of eleven. He watched with all the others present as the great black dog looked up at Dumbledore, then, in an instant, turned back into a man. Mrs Weasley screamed and leapt back from the bed at the sight of him.

“Mum, shut up!” Ron Weasley yelled. “It’s okay!”

But Molly Weasley’s reaction to laying eyes on the man who had successfully escaped from the wizarding prison, Azkaban, was completely in reason, as far as Severus was concerned. Even if it were not for the filthy rags he wore, his sunken face, or his long, filthy, matted hair, Sirius Black was a wanted criminal believed to have been responsible for the deaths of thirteen people. And while Severus now knew that to be untrue, it did not make him feel any better about seeing Sirius Black again.

“Him,” he snarled, while Black stared back at him with matching dislike. “What is he doing here?”

“He is here at my invitation,” said Dumbledore, looking between them, “as are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other.”

Continuing to eye each other with the utmost loathing, Severus knew that the only thing that he and Black could be trusted to agree upon was that Dumbledore was asking for a near miracle. And such a truce had never been part of Severus’ deal with Dumbledore anyway. Nobody who had endured what Severus had been forced to endure throughout school at the hands of Sirius Black would feel any different, of this he was certain. Knowing that Black was not a murderer and that he actually hadn’t been the one to tell the Dark Lord where to find the Potters did very little to improve him in Severus’ regard.

“I will settle, in the short term,” said Dumbledore, with a bite of impatience in his voice, “for a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth do not stand united, there is no hope for any of us.”

Severus glowered at the indignity of being treated like two squabbling children by the headmaster, but he had detected the warning note in Dumbledore’s tone that meant any refusal would not be tolerated. How very like Dumbledore to dismiss Severus’ reasonable objections whenever they inconvenienced him and his greater plans. But resentment aside, Severus still found himself slowly moving towards Black and shaking his hand just like he’d been ordered to do. He let go extremely quickly.

“That will do to be going on with,” said Dumbledore, stepping between them once more. ‘Now I have work for each of you. Fudge’s attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher - the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin’s for a while; I will contact you there.”

“But - “ Harry Potter protested, sitting up abruptly in his hospital bed by the window.

Severus turned his head towards Potter, taking measure of him for the first time since he had been transported from the maze screaming about the Dark Lord’s return, clutching the Triwizard Cup in one hand, and his classmate’s dead body in the other. In the chaotic aftermath, the boy had nearly been assassinated by a Death Eater who had been masquerading as a retired auror and the current Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. If he himself, McGonagall, and Dumbledore hadn’t managed to get there in time --- but even so, Severus was quite sure that he had never seen the boy looking worse.

The cuts and bruises, the broken leg - those were simple fixes - but the haunted look in the eyes that Severus usually did his best to avoid was something else. It was like Severus could see his own horror reflecting back at him through them, and it made him feel slightly nauseous. Potter had already been where Severus would soon be going and Severus would never admit it to anyone, but he was scared. He already hadn’t answered the Dark Lord’s summon when he was supposed to and he’d been sensing his master’s blind fury radiating through the Dark Mark branded on his arm ever since Potter had managed to escape.

“You’ll see me very soon, Harry,” said Black, walking over to the boy’s bedside and placing an affectionate arm around his shoulders. “I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” said Potter. “Yeah…of course I do.”

Black reached for his hand and grasped it briefly, nodded to Dumbledore, transformed again into the black dog, and ran the length of the room to the door, whose handle he turned with a paw. Then he was gone and Severus knew that there would be no more delaying his own departure.

“Severus,” said Dumbledore, turning to him, “you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready….if you are prepared….”

“I am,” Severus replied simply.

In front of Potter, Miss Granger, and the Weasleys, Severus knew that the headmaster wouldn’t dare say anything more. They would all be free to speculate about his mysterious errand once he was gone. And should he not make it back, word would spread until the whole castle was taking liberties with the tale of his disappearance. Professor Snape certainly wouldn’t be mourned though. Some of his colleagues would perhaps sigh regretfully when his name was mentioned in their vicinity, Dumbledore would be disappointed to lose his secret weapon, but that was the best he could hope for. Somehow knowing that made it a bit easier for Severus to turn and walk from the room. He had nothing to lose if he died anyway.

“Good luck,” Dumbledore said quietly.

It was gratifying to discover that the corridors had all been cleared, as Severus made his way down to the Entrance Hall. He didn't run into anybody. The students must have all been directed back to their dormitories for the night and he knew that Professor Sprout was sitting with Cedric Diggory’s parents in her office. He didn’t pass a single ghost on his way out of the castle and even most of the portraits were vacant as their occupants wandered about to swap stories with friends.

Pushing open the oak front door and stepping out onto the grounds, Severus concentrated on arranging his thoughts and putting up shields where appropriate. He had dedicated himself to mastering the art of mind defenses and it was the only way he possibly stood a chance at surviving the next hour, which would require him to lie through his teeth to the greatest legilimens the world had ever seen.

“Alohomora,” he spoke softly, tapping his wand on the iron gates that secured Hogwarts and which recognized his magical signature. The gate creaked open and Severus slipped out without needing to alert the groundskeeper or anyone else of his leaving. He didn’t need anyone asking questions about where he was off to in such a hurry; not while he was mentally preparing his reasoning to the Dark Lord about why he was answering his summons two hours late.

Pulling back his sleeve for the second time that night, Severus grimaced at the ugly mark that was burned into his skin. He had bared it for all to see back in the hospital wing, intending for the Minister to accept it as proof of the Dark Lord’s return, though that hadn’t worked out like he’d hoped. His badge of shame had been growing clearer all year, signifying the Dark Lord’s return long before Potter had emerged from the maze to proclaim it. If Severus had wanted to flee - to avoid doing what Dumbledore had just asked him to do - then he had had the opportunity. But instead, he had stayed, and whatever happened next, Severus knew that he would stand by his choice.

Pausing next to a tree, Severus took a calming breath and noted that while the night was warm, it had also become very dark. Nary a star was lighting the sky and while he was normally not at all superstitious, he wryly hoped that it was not an omen. He felt as prepared as he could be, trusted himself to employ his occlumency convincingly, and had committed the story crafted for him by Dumbledore to heart. But Severus knew that he was about to approach an exceptionally angry Dark Lord, whose rebirth had not gone at all as planned and who believed him to be a traitor that had left him forever.

Closing his eyes, Severus didn’t even give himself a chance to hesitate before he pointed his wand at his mark. Immediately there was a familiar tug along his navel. His feet left the ground and landed almost instantly in a different spot. This time, a carpeted floor - not the graveyard that Potter had described to Dumbledore.

Cautiously opening his eyes, Severus suppressed a shiver as he glanced around the large drawing room in what appeared to be an uninhabited old manor. He could tell that it was typically uninhabited because most of the furniture was covered by dusty white sheets, chairs were flipped upside down atop the table, and heavy red drapes were drawn shut over the windows. The only sound in the room was the crackling in the fireplace. His master sat in a tall back burgundy chair before it; silent, unmoving, and not looking at him.

Intent on keeping himself focused and in his role, Severus reminded himself that he was a devoted servant who had nothing to fear. He had done nothing wrong. Nothing that would displease his lord once he learned all that Severus Snape could tell him about Dumbledore and Potter. Yes, he might have remained in his post at Hogwarts under Dumbledore’s protection because it was convenient, but now it could benefit his risen master and he would prove it to him.

“My Lord, it is I,” Severus said softly, when what felt like many minutes passed without word or signal from his reborn lord.

There was no response. Severus dared not get any closer and he knew better than to say anymore unless instructed. Feeling like it would count against him if he remained standing, Severus slowly got down onto his knees. His legs wobbled slightly from nerves as he knelt there in wait. The Dark Lord continued to ignore him. He didn’t react at all until something heavy slithering across the carpet became the second sound in the room, and then the Dark Lord began hissing and spitting without drawing breath in what Severus immediately recognized as parseltongue.

The giant snake that had been heard moving across the drawing room floor paused at Severus’ side. It raised its head up to be level with his. Severus gripped his wand more tightly than ever when the snake hissed at him aggressively, but he still dared not move. The snake’s yellow eyes were watching him hungrily. Severus’ black eyes shifted back and forth between the beast beside him and the master that still refused to acknowledge him.

“My Lord,” Severus called again, a bit more pleading this time.

“Come here, Severus,” replied the cold, high-pitched voice.

Not sure whether he had done the right thing or not, Severus stuffed his wand into the pocket of his robes and shuffled forward on his knees to face the man he had once been so willing to follow. The snake slithered after him and then crawled up the back of the Dark Lord’s chair, wrapping itself over the top, and lowering its head down to rest upon the bony shoulder covered in a black robe. The snake hissed angrily once again, but was consoled by the caress of a long skeletal white finger.

“My Lord,” Severus murmured again, feeling ill-prepared as his practiced speech remained unsaid. He reached for the hem of the Dark Lord’s long back robe and kissed it several times, squeezing the fabric in both of his hands, burrowing his face in it when he did not know what he should do next. Breathing it in in a way that might be interpreted as longing, but which really came from fear.

“Two hours, Severus,” the Dark Lord spoke coldly, still stroking the head of the enormous snake. “I wait two hours, and you can’t wait two minutes?”

Severus knew better than to answer. He looked up from his spot on the floor, into the red eyes and the snake-like face. It would be difficult to distinguish how much humanity still remained in this brought-back lord. Though he was flesh, returned to a body, with his horrific face full of fury and ponder; working to understand what had gone wrong for him tonight. How had the boy gotten the better of him once again?

The Dark Lord stared back into the fire and not sure at all of his place in this - though recognizing that it was precisely his master’s intention to make him feel uneasy - Severus dropped his head to kiss the hem of the robes he was still clutching in both of his hands once more. The Dark Lord was not wearing any shoes. His feet were so pale that they could have belonged to a corpse and his toenails were grey and pointed like the fangs of the snake still draped over his chair. Many minutes more, and his legs began to throb. It did indeed feel like hours before the Dark Lord spoke again.

“Look at me,” he ordered and Severus obediently raised his head. He was thankful that his time on the floor like a dog at his master’s feet appeared to be over, but he sensed danger all around him and knew the night had just begun. “Why are you here?”

“Because I remain your faithful servant,” whispered Severus.

He was thrown back without warning. The fury of the Dark Lord’s wrath imploded on him without his master even needing to reach for his wand. Severus saw stars when his head banged back against the bricks that made up the fireplace, but the flames engulfing his legs and feet kept him conscious. His mental defenses dropping, as the only thing that mattered in that moment was stopping the pain, Severus leapt out of the fireplace and rolled himself around on the carpeted floor until the fire consuming him was put out.

“Crucio,” the Dark Lord said coldly, rising from his chair and pointing his wand at Severus before he even had a chance to catch his breath.

Severus screamed. Not even he could withstand the overwhelming torture of the Cruciatus Curse. It was as if - not just his lower extremities - but his whole body were now on fire. His bones felt like they were all simultaneously being crushed into powder. Severus writhed on the floor, unable to think about anything but the pain and how he needed it to stop. And when the Dark Lord finally lifted the curse, Severus spat out a mouthful of blood.

“Tell me the truth, Severus, and I’ll end it quickly,” the Dark Lord said, coming to stand over him. “Dumbledore sent you here, didn’t he? You are here on his orders?”

“He thinks I am, yes, master,” Severus nearly whimpered. “He told me to come here….to convince you that I am still your servant….he wants me to find out your plans….to report back to him….but, master please -

Severus instinctively raised his arms up to cover his head - as if that could save him - when he saw the Dark Lord raise his wand again. “I’m yours! I’m yours! Please, master, believe me, when I say that I am yours!”

“You’ve spent the last thirteen years living in that old fool’s pocket,” the Dark Lord said coldly. “It was you that thwarted my plans to steal the philosopher's stone!”

“I thought you were gone,” Severus whispered. “I used Dumbledore’s protection to keep myself out of prison. I should have looked for you….forgive me, my Lord…but all I want is to serve you again and atone for the last thirteen years.”

The Dark Lord’s wand waved through the air again and Severus flinched - thought it wasn’t aimed at him this time. There was a squeal of pain from out in the corridor and a dumpy little man with a silver arm stumbled into the room. It was Wormtail. The person actually guilty of the crimes that had sent Sirius Black to Azkaban. It was Wormtail who had betrayed the Potters' whereabouts to the Dark Lord as well.

“Wormtail came to find me, did you not, Wormtail?” the Dark Lord asked. “This weak and blithering man has done more for me than you, Severus. You didn’t care if I returned. You never tried to find me. You were perfectly happy being under Dumbledore’s thumb.”

“No, my Lord,” Severus pleaded softly, even as more blood dribbled down his chin. “I regret not doing more -’

“You mean more like saving Harry Potter’s life?” demanded the Dark Lord.

“I kept him safe for Dumbledore,” Severus confessed. “I’ve leaned on Dumbledore’s protection - done whatever he asked - to stay out of jail.”

“Like a coward,” the Dark Lord hissed.

“I can be better,” Severus practically begged. “Give me a chance to prove my worth to you, master, and I will not disappoint you. I have years of information on Dumbledore to pass onto you. He trusts me and he confides in me. Stuff about the Order and about Potter. He thinks I’m only here now because he told me to be, but I have always remained faithful to you.”

“Faithful! Did you hear that, Wormtail?” the Dark Lord jeered, but Severus pressed on before Wormtail had the chance to speak.

“Barty Crouch Junior has already been given the Dementor’s kiss. The real Alastor Moody has been found and Crouch was discovered before he managed to kill Potter. Dumbledore has deployed Sirius Black to gather up the members of the Order of the Phoenix and has put the Ministry of Magic on alert. Thanks to Potter, Dumbledore already knows everything that transpired after he touched the portkey.”

Though it was an agony, Severus staggered back onto his knees and crawled across the floor to be nearer his master. He needed to prove his value. He needed to convince the Dark Lord of his loyalty and devotion. Desiring closeness, even after the pain he'd just been subjected to, felt instinctively like an appropriate course of action.

“Leave us, Wormtail,” the Dark Lord commanded, still not looking away from Severus while they waited for Wormtail to scury from the room and close the door. Then the Dark Lord moved to sit back down in his same chair in front of the fireplace. “You will tell me everything,” he instructed Severus. “And then - then we shall see why you’re really here.”