Chapter 33: Tales of Betrayal
"Oh Severus, do not worry yourself. I won't kill you...yet. Your servitude and loyalty, should they be given once again freely, of your own accord, will buy you time. Plenty of time, I imagine, if you...fail to disappoint me."
He paused for a moment, before a smirk lifted the corner of his mouth.
"I'm sure you will find it in your heart to overcome the hatred for me that has no doubt festered in your heart all these years. After all, I really did show Lily Potter mercy, I gave her the chance to step aside...she just...refused my kindness," he finished with a cruel grin.
Severus grit his teeth silently, as a strange emotion akin to both anger and grief coursed through him.
"So calm yourself, Severus, and brew me my potion, and I may yet show you mercy."
He closed his eyes, calming himself as he reached for his bottle of essence of wormwood.
For a while, he was allowed to go about his task in peace; indeed, had nearly finished preparing ingredients when his lord's now childish voice spoke up once again.
"Severus, I have another task for you."
He looked up from his crushed raven's beak cautiously.
"Harry would like you to tell him about his mother."
And here he was thinking this day could not get any worse.
"M-my Lord, I'm not sure that -"
"Come now, Severus, indulge the boy. The poor child can't remember his mother...as you well know. Every child deserves to know their mother, do you not think so? It is the least he could ask of you...I am sure you haven't forgotten the part you played in the tragedy that was the murder of Lily and James Potter."
"My lord, is the boy..."
"He lies dormant inside this body, right now. He can hear and see everything that I do, however. I assure you, your words will not fall on deaf ears."
So the child...listened on as the Dark Lord spoke so mockingly of his dead mother. He could not help but feel sorry for James Potter's son. Merlin help him. He was feeling sorry for the spawn of James Potter.
"Severus, he's waiting."
He sighed shakily. "I met Lily Evans in the summer of..." He paused, suddenly unsure of himself. What does one say about a mother to a child that holds no memories of her? How could he possibly do justice to his old friend when her son knew nothing of her? What could he say about the woman he loved...and then betrayed? Lily deserved to be known by her child, that much was certain...but she deserved so much better than what he could give.
He wished he could paint a picture worthy of his beloved Lily, he wished...
"Severus, don't tell me you've forgotten about her already."
Oh, of course he hadn't – but it was too painful to bring those memories to the surface. Explaining to the boy who his mother was to him...would be like ripping his still beating heart out of his chest and crushing it slowly.
He heard the Dark Lord sigh. "Dear me, Harry, I think we broke him...not to worry, though – we can put him back together...imperio."
"Now, Severus, be a good boy and brew me my potion while you recite the history of one Lily Potter nee Evans. In the fullest detail."
So that's exactly what he did. He tried to distance himself from the words leaving his nearly quivering lips, but he could not entirely shut out the sound of his retelling of the life of Lily Evans. He didn't want to hear it, not again. He wanted to shut it out. He wanted to forget. But forgetting her would be tantamount to burning that very same heart being ripped out of his chest – it was an act of dying, and he was not ready to die just yet. He still had work to do.
But then again...
If the Dark Lord already had the boy in his grasp, what more could he do? Albus was quite clear that the boy was the only one who could defeat the Dark Lord, so if that was out of the question...what hope was there? No, perhaps his work was finished – perhaps there was no one left to protect. In which case...
He would welcome the death his former master cast upon him. There was no greater purpose, no profound moral, no prospect of happiness, no future life – there was only the light behind him and the present darkness. He'd had his chance to be happy, and he'd squandered it. And now, there was nothing left. It was poor penance for what he had done, but perhaps being murdered by the hand of the boy whose mother he loved and then betrayed would absolve him of but a portion of his guilt before the end. Yes, he would welcome death, and the irony that wrought it.
"Imbuere," the Dark Lord intoned, as he pointed his wand at the shimmering blue substance bubbling in his cauldron.
He could not help the surprise that came over his face when he saw that the wand was, indeed, the Dark Lord's own wand.
His surprise did not go unnoticed.
"Ah, yes, my wand. Harry was kind enough to fetch it for me when we visited his parents just the other day."
Disgust coiled in his stomach as he obediently bottled the dangerous elixir he'd just brewed. He knew that the Dark Lord was not a kind man...but to play with a parentless child, giving him the barest taste of what had been stolen from him...
It was cruel. Beyond cruel. Harry Potter may have been the heir of James Potter, but he didn't deserve to watch the grave of his parents defiled by the presence of their murderer, or listen for hours to stories of his mother told by the man who had betrayed her – he certainly did not deserve to have his very body and future stolen from the same man...monster that had taken everything else from him. It was becoming harder and harder to resent this unfortunate child.
His thoughts were interrupted when the Dark Lord, in the boy's small body, stood on his toes to gather the vials he'd laid on his workstation and placed them in the small red backpack he was carrying with him.
When he finished the delicate process of packing the 12 vials away, two crimson eyes turned to him once again. "Lord Voldemort thanks you, Severus. Your..." a shark-like grin split the Dark Lord's face, "...loyalty will not be forgotten."
"Thank you, my lord." He took a deep breath. "Should you require anything else -"
"Indeed, there is one last thing I require of you. Kneel."
Severus dropped to his knees without a second thought.
This is it, he thought, This is the end.
In a strange fit of appropriate irony and just desserts, the voice of the son of Lily Evans and James Potter was about to enunciate the words that would mark his end...at long last.
"You have served me well. Even so, I cannot have you announcing my return just yet."
Wait, what?
"My lord, I would never -" he began on reflex.
"I know, I know. Alas, it cannot be helped. Obliviate."
....
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