Stars Go Blue: Chapter 18
Standard Disclaimer. Mature.
Two hours later, preparations completed, Severus Snape stood beside the man he had called Master for most of his life thus far; if one could venture so far as to call the Dark Lord a man.
His soul had been split many times, six to be exact, and his stature showed the consequences of this fact. Add to that the knowledge that most, if not all of the Horcruxes he had created were now destroyed by the enemy he himself had chosen, and one could almost feel the difference in his energy. Yet there was a resurgence of energy as they stood outside this thicket in the fog. Anger, this time righteous, was coursing through the man known as Voldemort. It was his granddaughter in danger; the one who had tried all throughout her life to reach him, and now she was held captive by the man whom the Dark Lord had relied on so heavily... Wormtail.
Voldemort sent Severus ahead. This was nothing new; the Dark Lord had used this tactic throughout all his career... He was unlikely to change this procedure so late in his life, even if he was attempting to act out of concern for another, rather than his own gain.
Severus coughed three times, the signal he had written to his favourite student. A glowing light broke through the thicket, and he nodded. The boy had arrived then. Perhaps this plan would work after all.
Severus had always had a penchant for the dramatic. This was something very few people knew about him; somewhere along the line, Severus Snape had missed a calling to the Theatre, where he would have been an actor of no small renown. Well and so, humanity is not to know what might have been, and now, rather than bursting onto a stage in a dramatic entrance to thrill an audience... He was about to enter the most difficult role he'd played yet... And there would be no applause at the end of this scene, regardless of whether he played it well or no.
He realized that he was holding his breath and exhaled with a sharp "whoosh" sound; then, gathering his courage and his wits, he started to stagger.
He was met at the doorway.
"Come in Sev. Come in. It is high time we talked."
Severus Snape found himself in familiar surroundings. It was cruel, of course, but Pettigrew was always petty and spiteful; much more than Snape himself.
"How did you know I would be here?" Wormtail asked, leading the way into the kitchen.
"Well, I know you well enough, Peter; my respect for you has caused me to study your manners... You always were ahead of the game... and I knew that I would need to know how you played, if I were ever to be on your team," Snape's normally oily voice sounded silky, planting the seeds of his plan already. It was a poorly planned endeavor, he knew. Snape had had little time to prepare, but if executed as well as he expected, it would easily succeed.
Peter did not disappoint. He seemed to grow larger before Snape's eyes with the praise, and this put him in a rather good disposition.
"Tea, Sev? Or coffee, perhaps?" His manners were helped by the flattery, and he waited for Snape's response.
"Oh, nothing for me," Snape replied, glancing around at the house he had hoped never to step foot in again.
*"You are a disgrace to me"
The sound of a slap echoed through the house, which was devoid of anything, due to his father's drinking. Anything his mother had brought to this marriage had been frittered away on alcohol. And now he was back from another late night on the town, in a drunken rage... And Severus had just gotten his letter for Hogwarts...*
Snape was broken from his reverie with the sound of tea being placed before him. He looked up at Wormtail who smiled.
"Delightful place, isn't it?" He asked the question amicably, as if he hadn't known the horrors that Severus had endured within these walls.
"It is a place rich with memory," Snape said, which satisfied his host, "You always had an eye for such things as would give you an advantage, and that is a trait that the Dark Lord should have taken better note of. He was a fool for not doing so."
Pettigrew's smile grew wider; there is nothing someone who thinks of himself as intelligent likes better than someone else telling him that he is.
"Really," he squeaked, a rather annoying habit that came from having remained in his rat form for many years, "I always had the impression that you thought that I was somehow less than you... As evidenced by my stay with you before your return to Hogwarts."
Snape collected his thoughts as he toyed with his teacup.
"Peter... My devotion to you began before my devotion to the Dark Lord. Ah, I see in your eyes that you disbelieve me... How do you think that I managed to learn the skills of aligning myself with those who would give me the proper position in life; I learned how to use others to my advantage through watching you interact with those numbskulls Sirius, Remus, and James. You pretended devotion, yet my eye could see that you were biding your time... You were waiting until they had proved their use, and you could move on to strive for bigger and better things... And you have played the Dark Lord as well... So clever to have seen his daughter, and more importantly, his granddaughter, as something to exploit..."
"Well, it is really Nagini who helped with that."
This took Severus by surprise, and he inquired as to what Pettigrew meant.
"The first letter from the Dark Lord's granddaughter had come to her keeping, as she is one of his Horcruxes. As a rat, I was able to convince her to give it to me... One less thing for her to worry about. After that, I was able to intercept all of the letters, which grew less frequent, until they finally stopped. Such tormented drivel, just what you'd expect from a flighty little girl."
Snape recovered quickly as Peter spoke, and glanced around himself, feigning idle curiosity, "And where is said flighty girl?"
"Upstairs with Miss Weasley. That family has definitely proved its uses throughout the years," Peter mused, smiling at his own cleverness.
"Indeed," Snape drawled, and set about conveying the detailed part of the plan to the Dark Lord and to Draco.
Two hours later, preparations completed, Severus Snape stood beside the man he had called Master for most of his life thus far; if one could venture so far as to call the Dark Lord a man.
His soul had been split many times, six to be exact, and his stature showed the consequences of this fact. Add to that the knowledge that most, if not all of the Horcruxes he had created were now destroyed by the enemy he himself had chosen, and one could almost feel the difference in his energy. Yet there was a resurgence of energy as they stood outside this thicket in the fog. Anger, this time righteous, was coursing through the man known as Voldemort. It was his granddaughter in danger; the one who had tried all throughout her life to reach him, and now she was held captive by the man whom the Dark Lord had relied on so heavily... Wormtail.
Voldemort sent Severus ahead. This was nothing new; the Dark Lord had used this tactic throughout all his career... He was unlikely to change this procedure so late in his life, even if he was attempting to act out of concern for another, rather than his own gain.
Severus coughed three times, the signal he had written to his favourite student. A glowing light broke through the thicket, and he nodded. The boy had arrived then. Perhaps this plan would work after all.
Severus had always had a penchant for the dramatic. This was something very few people knew about him; somewhere along the line, Severus Snape had missed a calling to the Theatre, where he would have been an actor of no small renown. Well and so, humanity is not to know what might have been, and now, rather than bursting onto a stage in a dramatic entrance to thrill an audience... He was about to enter the most difficult role he'd played yet... And there would be no applause at the end of this scene, regardless of whether he played it well or no.
He realized that he was holding his breath and exhaled with a sharp "whoosh" sound; then, gathering his courage and his wits, he started to stagger.
He was met at the doorway.
"Come in Sev. Come in. It is high time we talked."
Severus Snape found himself in familiar surroundings. It was cruel, of course, but Pettigrew was always petty and spiteful; much more than Snape himself.
"How did you know I would be here?" Wormtail asked, leading the way into the kitchen.
"Well, I know you well enough, Peter; my respect for you has caused me to study your manners... You always were ahead of the game... and I knew that I would need to know how you played, if I were ever to be on your team," Snape's normally oily voice sounded silky, planting the seeds of his plan already. It was a poorly planned endeavor, he knew. Snape had had little time to prepare, but if executed as well as he expected, it would easily succeed.
Peter did not disappoint. He seemed to grow larger before Snape's eyes with the praise, and this put him in a rather good disposition.
"Tea, Sev? Or coffee, perhaps?" His manners were helped by the flattery, and he waited for Snape's response.
"Oh, nothing for me," Snape replied, glancing around at the house he had hoped never to step foot in again.
*"You are a disgrace to me"
The sound of a slap echoed through the house, which was devoid of anything, due to his father's drinking. Anything his mother had brought to this marriage had been frittered away on alcohol. And now he was back from another late night on the town, in a drunken rage... And Severus had just gotten his letter for Hogwarts...*
Snape was broken from his reverie with the sound of tea being placed before him. He looked up at Wormtail who smiled.
"Delightful place, isn't it?" He asked the question amicably, as if he hadn't known the horrors that Severus had endured within these walls.
"It is a place rich with memory," Snape said, which satisfied his host, "You always had an eye for such things as would give you an advantage, and that is a trait that the Dark Lord should have taken better note of. He was a fool for not doing so."
Pettigrew's smile grew wider; there is nothing someone who thinks of himself as intelligent likes better than someone else telling him that he is.
"Really," he squeaked, a rather annoying habit that came from having remained in his rat form for many years, "I always had the impression that you thought that I was somehow less than you... As evidenced by my stay with you before your return to Hogwarts."
Snape collected his thoughts as he toyed with his teacup.
"Peter... My devotion to you began before my devotion to the Dark Lord. Ah, I see in your eyes that you disbelieve me... How do you think that I managed to learn the skills of aligning myself with those who would give me the proper position in life; I learned how to use others to my advantage through watching you interact with those numbskulls Sirius, Remus, and James. You pretended devotion, yet my eye could see that you were biding your time... You were waiting until they had proved their use, and you could move on to strive for bigger and better things... And you have played the Dark Lord as well... So clever to have seen his daughter, and more importantly, his granddaughter, as something to exploit..."
"Well, it is really Nagini who helped with that."
This took Severus by surprise, and he inquired as to what Pettigrew meant.
"The first letter from the Dark Lord's granddaughter had come to her keeping, as she is one of his Horcruxes. As a rat, I was able to convince her to give it to me... One less thing for her to worry about. After that, I was able to intercept all of the letters, which grew less frequent, until they finally stopped. Such tormented drivel, just what you'd expect from a flighty little girl."
Snape recovered quickly as Peter spoke, and glanced around himself, feigning idle curiosity, "And where is said flighty girl?"
"Upstairs with Miss Weasley. That family has definitely proved its uses throughout the years," Peter mused, smiling at his own cleverness.
"Indeed," Snape drawled, and set about conveying the detailed part of the plan to the Dark Lord and to Draco.