For the first time in thirteen years, Severus Snape put on his Death Eater robes.

The robes were stiff from being in storage so long. Snape had left them in a locked box near the back of his cupboard and hoped vainly that he would never see them again.

Unfortunately, Voldemort would not see his followers wearing anything except these certain robes in his presence. So, Snape was forced to put them on.

It seemed he had not outgrown the robes much during the many years. He looked at himself in the full-length mirror that hung from the wall of his room. Pulling the hood up, Snape knew he looked rather…intimidating.

The deep hood cast shadows on Snape’s frowning face. Seeing himself now, he wasn’t too surprised Longbottom almost fainted every time he scowled in the boy’s direction.

The last item in the box was the one Snape despised the most. The Death Eater mask.

It was the last thing several people saw before they died. The mask was the first thing Snape wanted to destroy, should his triple spy position be revealed--if he lived long enough to see that day.

With reluctance in every movement, he picked up the mask and placed it on his face. Every Death Eater mask had a built in sticking charm that left no undesirable effects on the skin.

While it could still be knocked away if a curse hit hard enough, the charm usually worked very well in the Death Eater raids.

The Potions Master knew this well enough, he had been apart of enough raids to last a lifetime…and probably the life after death, if there was one.

He thought himself not fully sane by going back to the monster. But he would help the side of the light as long as Dumbledore needed him. He could do this much, Snape thought as he stroked a finger down the side of the forbidding mask. No matter the cost.

For the past few hours, he had tested his mental shields. While Snape would have to show Voldemort most of what he had done today, some things were too dangerous to let the monster see.

His hand in revealing the imposter, the silent conversations with Dumbledore about his Dark Mark and older, much more important secrets.

Snape was a master at Occlumency, but he was never arrogant in his knowledge. He constantly rebuilt his shields and scrutinized himself for flaws until his emotionless mask never faltered, and one could mistake him for a statue his expression was so cold.

These…talents, came in handy many times over the years, and it seemed he was about to use them once again.

Casting an obscured charm that softened any sounds he made and concealed him, Snape left his rooms.

It was late, past midnight at least. Snape saw a glimpse of the moon shining bright through the Great Hall’s see through ceiling before he opened one of the doors and walked outside.

Everyone was in bed it seemed. Although, because of recent events, there was bound to be those that could not sleep. Two friends in Gryffindor Tower were probably a good example. Depriving themselves of sleep would not help Potter. Snape wondered that if they were awake, would they realize this and try to sleep.

The large gate that protected the inhabitants of Hogwarts, and opened the show the path to the nearby town, loomed closer.

Using the key only the Heads of Houses and Hagrid had, Snape unlocked the gate. Knowing that if he returned alive, it was likely he wouldn’t be have the strength to stand lock enough to unlock the gates again, he pulled the gate so that it looked closed, but he did not lock it.

Storing the key in his pocket, Snape turned and walked toward Hogsmead.

He would wait until he got out of sight before apparating. Even though he was invisible, walking away from the castle before heading off to see the Dark Lord had been a routine Snape had followed since becoming Death Eater.

When the Dark Lord fell, he had stopped following the routine. The feeling he felt most; as he walked away from the gate and to his old apparation spot, was bitterness.

The mark on his arm drew him towards the Dark Lord, like a line or portkey it pulled him to the man’s side.

Covering a hand over the Dark Mark and closing his eyes, Snape aparated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Dark mark took him directly to the Dark Lord‘s new throne room.

“Severus,” the Dark Lord hissed as he stood. “I had stopped expecting you my slippery friend.”

“I’m sorry my lord,” Snape murmured. He fell to his knees, his head bowed. He was careful to seem every bit awed of being in the monsters presence.

And a monster he was. From the glimpse he had seen before bowing his head, Snape was disgusted. One thing was sure, Voldemort now looked every bit he ugly villain. The red eyes were terrible, the coldness in his every move and voice made Snape very anxious.

“I couldn’t come sooner--” Snape tried to explain, but Voldemort interrupted him.

“I bet you didn’t even try did you Severus? You never once tried to seek me out. It was only when you realized you could never escape me that you came back to my side,” Voldemort said.

Before Snape could protest, he was being held under the Cruciatus.

He had forgotten the feeling of pain. Crucio was hard to forget…but all memories of pain fades. You would remember that it hurt like hell, but the way it felt as a thousand knifes were being jabbed into your skin--that, had faded from Snape’s mind.

The burning unpleasantness that seemed to scream from his bones; made the spy muffle screams into his arm.

He was not afraid to show his pain, but there were very few he allowed himself to be that human around. Dumbledore, Pomfrey and McGonagall had seen him times of weakness and he respected them.

But for this--monster that was intent of destroying lives and killing for fun, he had no place of respect.

Snape bit his arm and hoped with his very being for mercy. Then--mercy was granted.

Voldemort lowered his wand, and stared at his panting follower.

“Now tell me Severus, why should I allow you to wear my follower’s robes? What makes you think I still consider you a faithful servant when you’ve been under Dumbledore’s wing under all these years?”

Behind the silky voice was a deadly curse just waiting to be used. Snape knew he needed to speak, and soon.

“My lord, please listen to me. I have never fully been one of Dumbledore’s fools. Over the years, he has grown to trust me, and I silently waited for your return. And here you are master, more powerful than you’ve ever been!” Snape hated himself as he crawled as a worm to Voldemort’s booted feet.

“I‘ve been told much by Dumbledore, my lord. Information has been past to me by unsuspecting lips. They all trust me, I can aid you in your cause--if only you will allow me the honor?”

Voldemort stared down at Snape. His expression showed nothing.

Reaching a cold, pale hand down, Voldemort jerked Snape’s face up and ripped the Death Eater mask off. Looking him in the eye, Voldemort cast Legilimens silently.

It was incredibly hard for Snape not to throw the Dark Lord out of his mind. The feeling of someone treading on his thoughts and seeing his memories of the last thirteen years was uncomfortable to say the least.

The Dark Lord’s presence was a dark gray in Snape’s mind and oozing bad intentions.

Snape let a unnoticeable sigh escape him as Voldemort left his mind. Unlike more experienced Occlumency users, the Dark Lord did not know how to control the feeling of his presence.

He was not subtle, but fast, and quick to attack.

The Dark Lord’s way of using the old talent made Snape clench his teeth in disgust.

“I see that you tell the truth Severus,” Voldemort said and he withdrew to sit back in his imperious chair.

“I beg of you to tell you how you’ve managed your return My Lord. I am ignorant on the matter. Dumbledore was attached to me like a leech when you called, I’m am truly sorry to have missed such a magnificent event.” Snape made sure to sneer at Dumbledore’s name, the hatred Voldemort felt for the old man could not have changed in the years--unless it had grown.

“You will have to loosen your leash Severus. I want my followers always able to come at my command,” Voldemort said.

Severus bowed his head back to the ground. “I shall try.”

Voldemort made a sound of unhappiness. “You will do more than just try Severus. I won’t have you just try. I shall have you succeed--or pay the consequences of failure.”

“Yes, my lord,” Snape murmured.

“If it’s true that Dumbledore needs you, than lessening your schedule should be no problem,” Voldemort said and then hissed something in Parseltongue.

A large snake appeared out of the shadows and passed a still Snape on her way to Voldemort.

Petting the snake fondly, Voldemort stared at Snape in assessment. “I shall tell you how I regained my current body, then you can do me a favor--I think you shall enjoy it.”

Never hesitating, Snape nodded. He was sure to act the ever faithful servant. That was what Voldemort wanted and Snape was going to provide for the monsters needs as long as he could.

The longer he pleased, the longer he lived. It was a simple and yet grim logic that Snape had learned to live by.

Nodding, pleased with his servants eagerness, Voldemort told the tale of his return.

It was a long time before the story was over. Snape listened and puzzle pieces began fitting together into a masterpiece of a plan.

It was near the end that Snape learned that Potter had indeed been taken to the Dark Lord along with Diggory. His knees ached from kneeling so long, but he couldn’t let any discomfort effect his spying.

This information would have to be re-told to Dumbledore in perfect detail.

Voldemort’s face was pleased as he told of how he had Wormtail kill Diggory, tie up Potter and then how he’d (with Wormtail’s help) had brought himself back to a more human form.

Voldemort’s face changed and Snape wondered if he had done something wrong.

Voldemort’s face was cold, “Wormtail freed Potter.”

Snape looked up, surprise shown freely since he had not bothered to retrieve his Death Eater mask.

“My lord…why?” Snape had to ask.

Voldemort looked around the room slowly, he seemed to be thinking. Nagina, as Snape had learned was her name, was curling around Voldemort’s cloaked legs.

“He cut the ropes that held the boy to my father’s headstone, and sent Potter away with a portkey.” Voldemort stood. A snarl on his face, dislike and anger showed in every jerky movement.

“The change was sudden Severus. I wonder if he might have had a moment of pity for Potter. I knew he had weaknesses, but I admit I didn‘t expect this much.” Voldemort’s quiet musing’s were interrupted as the door opened.

Lucius Malfoy came through the doors. His mask was no where in sight, and he was dressed in regal robes unlike the plain dark ones all Death Eaters wore. Lucius’s robes were dark grey trimmed with light blue. He looked out of place in the room.

Lucius’s eyes met Snape’s, and the man nodded slowly before turning to Voldemort.

“Wormtail has become silent my lord. He refuses to speak of his actions,” Lucius said.

Snape took the minute to look around the room. It reminded him of a cavern, one big room that was empty except for Voldemort’s chair, a dining room table seated for many.

Looking back at Voldemort, Snape noticed for the first time the bear skin rug that sat at the feet of the Dark Lord’s chair.

That was a bit overdone, he thought, but Voldemort was proudly contemptuous.

Voldemort looked back at Snape. “I want you to see if you can convince Wormtail to tell me where he sent Potter. That boy has lived long enough, I want him dead.”

“Yes, my lord,” Snape nodded.

“And Severus? If Wormtail can not be convinced by you, I will kill him. I have no use for him any longer. Lucius will show you the way.”

Snape was led out of the room by Lucius. It was outside the large room that Snape realized he was in the dungeon of Malfoy Manor.

A familiar banner of the Malfoy Crest hung from a long, dark wall as they walked to where Wormtail was being held.

“I wondered if you were coming back Severus,” Lucius said.

“Why should I not? The Dark Lord will conquer all in the end. I want to be alive to see it, and siding with Dumbledore will only get me killed,” Snape said with a light sneer.

Lucius chose not to respond.

Wormtail’s ‘room’ seemed more like a cell. Dark, cold and foul smelling. Lucius hung outside the door while Severus stepped in.

“I prefer not to accompany you Severus, his stink is hard to get rid of once it contaminates you. The door will open with your touch,” with that, Lucius had shut the door and started walking away.

Peering into the shadows, Snape saw a hunched form. “Wormtail, the Dark Lord told me of your betrayal.”

The form of Wormtail shivered at the monster’s name.

“I see you still fear him…and yet--you were foolish enough to free Potter. Why?” Snape asked.

No answer was forthcoming and Snape had not expected one. He continued to prod.

“Did you pity him Wormtail? Was the sight of a broken boy enough to make your loyalty to our lord tremble…or was it because of who’s boy it was?”

Slowly, almost unnoticeable in the dark, Wormtail shook his head. Snape felt a small victory. “Boy wasn’t broken,” he muttered in a low voice.

“It had nothing to do with James Potter then,” Snape murmured almost too quietly for Wormtail to hear.

“Tell me Wormtail, why did you free Potter?” Snape asked as he came closer.

“Can you not see me Snape?” Wormtail asked in a trembling voice. “Look at me! Ask me how long he left me like this. I’m sure you know the story now.”

Curious, Snape came closer. “What has been done to you, what has changed your mind--your alliance?” he asked quietly. Then he saw what had been done to Wormtail.

His right hand was missing--still. The bloodied limb was no longer bleeding, or else he would have been dead. The pain was still there though, Snape could tell my the way Wormtail shivered every few seconds.

It was not cold in the room, Wormtail was just in pain.

Snape remembered that Voldemort had promised Wormtail a new hand after he returned him to his full strength.

“You began to doubt him,” Snape said. Wormtail let out a low wail.

“That doesn’t explain why you let Potter go.”

“The boy saved my life in the Shrieking Shack Snape. I felt that if I was doomed to die with a unmerciful master, I could at least fulfill my debt to him,” Wormtail said between sniffs. His voice tearful and lost.

“Where did you send Potter?” Snape asked.

Wormtail sighed, “I don’t know Snape. It was an emergency portkey, I made it just in case things went wrong…and they did go wrong,” Wormtail trailed off.

Not believing him, Snape dove into Wormtail’s defenseless mind when the man met his eyes.

He quickly found what he had been looking for.

Potter’s bruised and bloody face was looking at Wormtail with disbelief, as the man cast a spell and shoved a little bag into the boy’s hand at the same time.

Potter disappeared and Wormtail was hit with Crucio.

Knowing he would not find out anymore, Snape pulled out of Wormtail’s mind. He left the cell before the man regained his senses.

Snape knew the way back to Voldemort and he made his way there. Voldemort was sitting where Snape had seen him last, not seeming to have moved from his position.

“He gave Potter a emergency portkey, my lord. Wormtail knows no more about Potter’s current position than we do,” Snape said as he bowed low to the Dark Lord.

“I shall have him killed then. I need nothing more from you Snape,” Voldemort said.

Snape bowed and headed out of the room. He had not mentioned the spell Wormtail had used, he needed to find what it was for--and quickly. It could be the clue to finding Potter.

Lucius showed him out and to the gate that surrounded Malfoy Mannor.

Nodding a goodbye, Snape aparated when he was outside the property line.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He headed straight for the Hogwarts Library. Although he had many books on spells, they were for rare spells and occasionally the need for Dark spells came up.

The one Wormtail had used seemed familiar, but Snape did not remember seeing it in one of his personal books.

The spells were in alphabetical order, and after going through two books, Snape found it.

Snape read the paragraph again before closing the book. Amnesia? Wonderful.

How the hell did Wormtail think he was helping Potter? Wormtail had already signed his own death certificate by giving Potter the portkey. A portkey that brought him right outside Hogwarts would have made things so much easier. The idiotic Gryffindor deserved to die from pure stupidity alone!

With a annoyed sigh that seemed loud in the empty library, Snape turned and headed off to find the Headmaster.

It seemed Potter was lost somewhere with no idea where he was, or who he was. And if Potter didn’t know that much, he certainly wasn’t aware that a crazy, sadistic wizard wanted him dead.

Snape suddenly wanted to laugh at himself. He ached everywhere from the Crucio, and his bed sounded was very tempting. Yet, he was up in the early hours of the morning to try and aid the search of a student he detested.

As he scowled to himself, the mental image of Potter wandering innocently into a room full of Death Eaters crossed Snape’s mind.

He broke into a quick walk.