PROLOGUE
Crack!
A disgruntled figure appeared out of what seemed to be thin air. Trying to collect himself, the figure wiped at his eyes furiously in an attempt to soothe his pounding eyelids. He adjusted his long, billowing cloak and shook his shoulders, relieving the tension that had been bottled up there since the start of term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The man finally turned his head to the side, his gaze reaching across an elongated, ornate table. Everybody held neutral facial expressions, but their twinkling eyes and slightly upturned mouths showed their satisfaction at his arrival. Goblets of firewhisky were positioned before each of them, glinting even in the darkness. Snape smirked, imagining how much time the house-elves must have spent scrubbing each of them to pristine perfection.
"Severus? You have arrived at last. Please, take a seat."
"Of course, milord."
Severus turned to a stout, wide-eyed gentleman and arched his left eyebrow.
"You're in my seat...Pettigrew."
Pettigrew squeaked and made a motion to rise from his chair. As he stood, a raspy voice called from the head of the table.
"Pettigrew, stay seated. Severus, come to me."
Pettigrew made another squeak but quickly stifled it in his sleeve, staring up at Severus as he sat firmly back in the chair. Severus pursed his lips together and walked in the direction of the voice without saying a word. All eyes fell on him as he walked up to a man. A man, that if any ordinary person was to see, would not think him a man at all.
He had white skin that glowed pale in the dim light, covered all around with deep worry lines, veins, and the slightest hint of what appeared to be wrinkles. His eyes and nose were slits, to the point where one could barely recognize either feature was there. He, just as everyone else around the table, wore a simple black cloak with no accessories. But his most defining feature was the aura of power and authority he seemed to radiate, especially to the ones assembled around him at the moment.
"Well done Severus," the man said opening his arms wide and moving in, engulfing Severus in a tight hug. "You have done me a great favor, one that will ensure you a spot in my highest regards and the best of my graces.
The man paused to look across the table at a young man with pale blond hair and piercing blue eyes, who shrank in his seat upon making eye contact.
"I'd also say that you've done someone else a bigger favor than me tonight. I assigned the task to the one who wanted to prove himself, who told me regalious tales about how he'd achieve his success. If it weren't for you, he'd have given me an empty promise. And Lord Voldemort does not like empty promises. Alas, the boy has proved himself as a scoundrel, a coward, and above all, a failure."
The blonde-haired boy seemed to cower even lower at these words, tears brimming at his already puffy eyes.
Lord Voldemort turned back to Severus and gave him a genuine smile, one that Severus had not seen in ages. He sat back down his chair and motioned Severus to do the same. After Severus complied, there was a heartbeat of silence. Awkward glances were shared across the table. Lord Voldemort looked back at Severus, silently asking him to start the flow of conversation.
Snape looked towards his full goblet of firewhisky and lifted it up, signaling a toast. The others at the table nodded in agreement and raised their glasses as well.
"To the death of an enemy. To a new era with our Lord leading the way," Severus boomed.
Voldemort smiled again, that same genuine smile. He was the only one without any firewhisky, perhaps to see if any of his beloved Death Eaters seated at the table would crack under the spellbinding frenzy induced by the drink and display traitorous behavior.
"Cheers!" rang out from all corners as people clinked glasses, downing the firewhisky. As the chatter started up, Snape downed his with vigor, hoping to forget all that had happened today and wishing once again that he could turn back time.