The Prince and the Rat

Snape walked down the stairway slowly, deliberately.

Control he told himself. Though time was a factor, he could not let himself run. If he ran, he might lose control, and nothing was more important right now. This pain in his arm had steadily been growing worse over the past hour. Some part of his mind kept expecting it to start physically scorching his flesh. The more logical part of his brain knew the Protean Charm couldn't do that. Supposedly.

He opened his office door and walked strait to his pensieve. He immediately began drawing out memories. Mostly memories of Lily, but some from the past few years as well.

It was a delicate process. Take too much, and it was obvious something had been taken. Placing a memory in a pensieve did not completely remove it, and if a skilled Legilemens detected gaps in memory, he would likely still be able to get the overall idea of what was being hidden. The trick was to take enough that the big parts were gone, but not so much that it seemed suspicious.

Snape had practiced many times over the past few years. The process got more difficult as he went; as he took some of his stronger memories of Lily- such as the last time they had spoken- it became harder to remember her all together. He always worried that he was going to forget to remove something important simply because there weren't enough associations to bring it to mind.

Once he finished he felt empty. Or, perhaps it was more accurate to say he was not quite full anymore. Not all of himself anymore. He found the feeling disturbing, perhaps because it was not entirely unpleasant.

Satisfied, he left his office, locked it, and set off for the entrance hall. He thought Dumbledore might be waiting by the door to coach him once more, but the old wizard was nowhere in sight. He had told Snape he needed to speak with him before he left, but time was a factor and Snape did not want to search the castle for him.

"Off coddling Potter," Snape muttered under his breath. He almost felt bad for a moment; Harry had just seen a fellow student murdered before his eyes. Even for someone like Harry, that would be disturbing.

He shook the thoughts away. This was a war. Diggory would not be the last, and Harry had best get used to it quick.

Even though it was summer now, Snape pulled his cloak a little tighter around him. He had known this day would come. He had been preparing for it for over a decade, but he still felt he was not ready. He stopped once he passed outside the Hogwarts grounds and took a deep breath. He touched his Dark Mark and Disapparated.

He appeared inside what was clearly a Muggle dwelling. Though there were lightbulbs in the ceiling, the only light in the room came from a fire against the far wall. Snape could not make out most of the room, though could tell it was old and more than a little run down. The floorboards creaked for no apparent reason; the wallpaper was dirty but not peeling. A large armchair sat in front of the fire. As Snape's eyes adjusted, he could see dark figures standing around the wall.

"And who is this straggler?" A cold voice came from the armchair. Snape could see a bald, pale head peaking out just above the top of the armchair.

"Severus Snape," Snape answered, falling to one knee instinctively and looking toward the ground. The Dark Lord did not generally like for people to meet his eye.

Seeing Voldemort again after all this time brought up a swell of emotions that Snape had to push back. Anger and fear were the foremost among them. He allowed some of the fear to stay, as that would be appropriate, but he had to push back the anger, hide it.

"Severus," Voldemort said from his chair. "You took so long, I feared you were not coming."

"Of course not, my Lord," Snape said. "I could only just now get away…"

"Yes, I know you've been quite busy with your job," Voldemort interrupted, standing up. "Did Dumbledore finally let you out to play with your old friends?" The other Death Eaters laughed. Snape said nothing; he would know when the time was right. "I have heard many things about you, Severus. The company you have been keeping. It has me worried."

"Yes, my Lord," Snape said. He kept his voice even and his mind passive and blank, trying to keep himself from visualizing killing the Dark Lord right there. "I have maintained my post at Hogwarts, as you asked." Mind blank. Keep it blank. "I have kept and eye on Dumbledore and-"

"Is that all you've had on him?" Voldemort asked with raised brows. More laughter. "I suppose I did ask you to take that job. What I am really curious about is why you still have it."

"I did not know what else to do, my Lord," Snape replied, trying to sound pitiful. "Everyone said you were dead. I went to the Potter residence to

(see if it was true)

"see for myself, but I saw no trace of you." Snape swallowed deeply. "I thought you were gone."

Voldemort stared impassively at Snape. Snape did his best to keep his mind blank, but he had made a small slip. Had Voldemort noticed?

The Dark Lord flicked his wand. A deep pain struck Snape in the middle, somewhere inside him. It was only for a moment, but it was excruciating. He doubled over from his kneeling position and righted himself a moment later.

"Did I not say many times that I would never truly die?" Voldemort asked.

"Yes, my Lord." It hurt to talk. "Forgive me, I thought it a boast."

Voldemort raised his wand again, but this time he merely gestured with it. "For that, you are forgiven. If I could not forgive all those who thought me dead, I would hardly have any servants." The way he spoke suggested he found this amusing; several of the Death Eaters let out uneasy laughs accordingly. "Remember, Severus, that I have no need to exaggerate my power." Snape nodded in response. "I do not blame you for not looking for me. Nor do I blame you for holding your job at Hogwarts. I suspect you may be of some used to me, in fact. Tell me, how did you convince Dumbledore to trust you?"

Though he spoke casually, Snape knew this an important question. He answered carefully. "I told him I was horrified by what happened to

(Lily)

"the Potters, for my part in it. He believed me."

"He was always quick to trust," Voldemort said. "Did he know of your history with them?"

"Yes," Snape said. "I was able to convince him anyway." Mind blank, keep it blank. "I told him that whatever my past with James was, I never

(Sectumsempra!)

"wished him any harm."

Voldemort tilted his head and studied Snape for a moment. Snape was certain Voldemort was on to him, but the Dark Lord went on. "Then let us move on to more recent events. You had no small part in thwarting my last attempt to revive myself. Three years ago, when I tried to steal the Philosopher's Stone."

His voice was still casual, but Snape knew the Dark Lord was studying him both mentally and physically for any sign of deception. "My Lord, I had no idea that Quirrell was with you. I merely saw a weak wizard making a grab at a power he had not earned. Had I known it was you, my Lord…" Snape trailed off, to allow the thought to hang for a moment. "I understand why you did not reveal yourself at that time. You did not know who to trust."

"No, I did not." Now it was Voldemort's turn to let a thought hang. In truth, though, this was the easy part. There was little lying he had to do. He hadn't known the truth about Quirell. Suspected, perhaps, but not known.

"And the follow year, during Lucius' foolish attempt to ruin that family of blood traitors?"

"All I knew was that there was a monster roaming the school attacking the students. I cared little, but I had to keep up appearances for Dumbledore." Still on fairly safe ground, yet Snape did not allow himself to relax just yet. If anything, this all seemed a little too easy.

"I wonder about you, Severus." The Dark Lord began to pace now, his bare feet padding softly on the wood floor. Snape's legs were beginning to hurt, but he dared not stand while he was still being questioned. "Your story makes perfect sense. And yet…" Voldemort turned away from Snape and beckoned one of the Death Eaters, a small one. Snape glanced up briefly. The dark silhouette looked familiar, but he couldn't place it before he had to look back down. "And yet, Wormtail tells me something curious this from last year."

Wormtail? Snape felt something clench in his stomach. A million thoughts tried to shoot through his head and he shut them all down. That name… it couldn't be. He must be remembering something wrong. Yet when he looked up, he saw the face of a man who should be dead- Peter Pettigrew.

Now he was unable to keep his mind blank, not completely. Despite the surprise of seeing Pettigrew alive, what really hit him were the implications. Pettigrew, not Black, had betrayed Lily. He had gotten her killed, the man in front of him right now. His arm twitched slightly; it had been going for his wand. Potter had been right. It had sounded like a crazy story, but now…

"I see you are surprised," Voldemort said, "and a little angry. Why is that, Severus?" This time the tone was far from casual. "Peter tells me that last year you tried to apprehend Sirius black rather vehemently, even though you believed he was working for me at the time."

"My- my Lord," Snape stammered. He had not expected this. He cleared his throat and managed to say "I have a history with him."

"The same history you had with James Potter," Voldemort said. "As I understand he… picked on you in school?" Voldemort began to pace again. "Which would have been over ten years ago?"

"I-"

"Because Wormtail here has a different theory." Blank, nothing. Stay in control. "He recalls you had some affection for that Potter woman back then." A flash of rage, suppressed. "He thinks you wanted to kill Sirius Black because you believed he was responsible for her death." Voldemort stopped directly in front of him, barely an inch away. "You asked me to spare her. I had not forgotten."

"My Lord, had I known the consequences, I would never have done so." The lie tasted bitter in his mouth, but he pressed on. "I was fond the Potter woman in school.

(Always)

Snape cleared his throat quietly. "I desired her then as well, but it was nothing more.

"As for Sirius, it was immature of me, I know. I wanted to get back at him for the seven years of torment he put me though. It was childish, my Lord, but when I saw him again, all the old hurts came back. I could not control myself." Blank, totally blank. Think of empty parchment, white walls. He wasn't even sure how the words were getting out, his throat felt so tight. "I thought you were gone. I had no use for Black and saw no harm with settling the old score."

Now Snape dared to look up. Voldemort's eyes met his. Snape kept his gaze away from Wormtail. Seeing the Dark Lord made him angry and sad all at once, but they were old feelings. Looking at Wormtail, with that smug grin on his face

(kill him)

made the old hurts fresh again.

After what seemed like an eternity, Voldemort looked away. He turned his back again and rested his hands on the back of the armchair. Eventually, he turned back. He was not smiling, precisely, but he seemed less menacing. He looked at Wormtail.

"I knew it was a ridiculous idea."

Snape felt relief wash over him, but he stopped that short as well. This could well be one final test. He had to stay in control; he could never afford to lose it in the Dark Lord's presence, no matter where his attention seemed to be. Some relief was appropriate, and he allowed some of it to show, both mentally and physically, along with a little confidence.

"No one would be foolish enough to betray me over some woman," Voldemort continued. "I had to be sure, Severus. Your position is… interesting. I know you have no small skill in deception, and you have had almost fifteen years to practice, to get your story strait. I had to throw something at you that you would not expect, something bizarre that you could not anticipate. I decided Wormtail's accusation would do." Wormtail's smile had vanished by now and he swallowed deeply. "I was concerned that Dumbledore might have won you over after all these years. Or perhaps you decided that he was the greater wizard. You did take so long to come and see me." Wormtail opened his mouth to speak, but Voldemort held up a hand to silence him.

"I sought to preserve my cover," Snape said. "I had to convince Dumbledore of my loyalty, that I was coming here to spy for him."

Voldemort finally smiled. "To spy for him?" He laughed. It was not exactly comforting. "Even better than I had hoped, Severus." He turned to Wormtail and Snape got to his feet. His body was close to shaking but he held himself steady. "Now, Wormtail, what was it you were going to say?"

"Master, I'm sorry!" Wormtail blurted. He looked close to crying. "I… in the Shrieking Shack, he seemed so crazy! Anyone would have thought what I thought!"

Voldmort did not seem impressed. "Severus was the one who brought me the information about the prophecy. He was so proud that day. To suggest he cared for the Potter woman enough to betray me was idiotic." Voldemort shook his head. "Severus has always been a valuable and loyal servant, Wormtail. I cannot say the same for you, and you made a serious accusation against him."

"Master, forgive me!" Wormtail threw himself to the ground at Voldemort's feet. "It was a mistake, just a mistake!"

Voldemort took a step away from him. "It was not me whom your accusations hurt," Voldemort said. He looked over at Snape and Wormtail followed his gaze. Snape was not sure if the groveling wizard looked relieved or more frightened. "Severus, you live alone, do you not?"

"Yes, my Lord," Snape answered, a little confused.

"A wizard of your skill should not be without help," Voldemort stated. "Take Wormtail as your servant. I suspect he will be up to the task."

Snape wondered if this was another trick. Was he sending Wormtail to spy on him? Did he still not trust him? No, if Voldemort thought Snape was working for Dumbledore, Snape wouldn't be alive. Of course, that didn't mean Wormtail wouldn't be spying anyway, looking for something to bring Snape down.

"Thank you, my Lord." Snape bowed.

"Think nothing of it." Voldemort returned to his seat by the fire. He conjured up a small chair. "Come, sit with me, Severus. You have much to tell me about the past fifteen years."

.

Peter awoke to a sharp pain. Someone was prodding him in the side with a boot, and not gently.

"Come, Wormtail," Snape's voice called from above him.

"Leave me alone," Peter muttered, trying to roll over on the floor and turn his back to Snape.

"You're my manservant now," Snape said. Peter could hear the joy and cruelty in his voice. "What if I need someone to open my front door for me?"

"Just Apparate inside," Peter grumbled.

"What if I want my new manservant to open it for me?" Snape held down his hand. "Come. Now."

Unthinking, Peter reached and took Snape's hand. Snape made a strange face that almost looked like a grin and jerked Peter to his feet. Peter let out a cry of pain and backed away.

"You nearly broke my arm!" Peter shrieked, rubbing his shoulder.

"Quiet! You'll wake the Dark Lord."

Peter went pale and this and choked back his words. Instead he rubbed his shoulder more and whimpered a little. Snape put his hand on Peter's shoulder and the two of them Disapparated to the front of Snape's house.

Peter took a few steps to toward the door, then stopped. "Did…" Peter began. He hesitated, almost thinking better of it. "Did you do something to my hand?" He looked at his sliver hand and flexed it slowly.

"Of course not. What could I possibly do to it? Now open the door."