Chapter 1: The Phoenix Spy’s Mission

The cool, damp air of the dungeons of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were unusually quiet. It was the first official day of summer vacation, and Professor Severus Tobias Snape, Head of Slytherin House and esteemed Potions Master, was reveling in the tranquil relaxation. Severus had barricaded himself in his personal Potions lab and brewed all morning. The lithe black-clad man was working on a Dreamless Sleep to restock the Infirmary's stores, seeing as Harry Potter, the Bloody-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Make-His-Life-Miserable, had drank all of the last doses after witnessing Cedric Diggory's death and the Dark Lord Voldemort's return.

Severus repressed a shudder and averted his mind from thoughts of the Dark Lord. He was in an unusually sour mood, seeing as he was going to have to revert to his old ways again. He was going to have to return to spying for Albus Dumbledore against Lord Voldemort, as a twisted sort of double agent. Severus sighed and closed his eyes, resting the palms of his hands flat against the cold stone of the work table he was standing before.

The soft hiss and bubble of the calmly simmering potion beside him pacified his nerves and smoothed down his ruffled feathers. To put it truthfully, Severus was afraid. He knew very well that he could be killed any moment he stepped off of the thin, dangerous line he walked. There was Voldemort and his Death Eaters, the Ministry and Azkaban, and the manipulative Albus Dumbledore, leader of the 'Light' side. Any one of those aspects would be on him like starving wolves if he tripped and fell.

Death was imminent, and Severus knew it was now only a matter of time, rather than if, not how he was killed. Severus opened his eyes and swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing prominently in his throat. The Potions Master took a deep breath and picked up the stirring rod he’d set down by the base of his cauldron, and began counting as he stirred the mixture in sweeping, counter-clockwise motions.

Suddenly, Severus hissed in pain as a sharp, burning jab of what felt like fire shot through his lower left arm. He grimaced, breathing in sharply through his nose and setting the stirring rod back down. Severus cast a simple stasis charm on the Dreamless Sleep before turning on his heel and striding out of the room.

He stepped into his bedroom and Accio’ed his Death Eater robes out of the wardrobe. The raven-haired man swiftly changed, then snatched his mask off of the nightstand and stalked out of his personal rooms. It took him record time to arrive at the Headmaster’s office, and he rapped his knuckles sharply on the wood of the heavy oak door.

“Enter!” Albus called cheerfully from inside, and Severus pushed the door open and slipped into the room. “Ah, Severus, my boy. What can I do for you on this fine summer day?” The Headmaster asked, his vibrant blue eyes twinkling merrily.

“I’ve been Summoned.” Severus responded curtly as the pain in his arm grew more intense with every passing second. “Urgently.” He ground out, clenching his jaw against the itching, boiling sensation of his Dark Mark.

Dumbledore frowned, his blue eyes ceasing their incessant dancing and instead dimming with a protective light. “I see. What do you expect the Dark Lord to question you about?”

Severus shook his head in defeat, greasy raven hair falling into his eyes. “I do not know. It is a good thing I’ve been working on my Occlumency shields. He will probably demand to know why I did not show up when he Summoned us to the graveyard.” Severus said, curling his hands into fists. “I must be off, Headmaster.”

“Of course, Severus. Be safe.” Dumbledore said softly.

Severus gave a brief nod and whirled, stalking out of the room and down the stairs with a flurry of robes. He reached the Entrance Hall and exited the castle swiftly, making his way down towards the Forbidden Forest and his Apparition point. It had been so long since he’d last needed to travel this way so quickly, with such an air of importance in his stride. He didn’t like it at all. This brought back too many regrets, too many memories he’d rather have lie buried for all eternity.

As Severus entered the shade of the Forbidden Forest, he slid his mask into place, the contours of the cold, black material fitting his face perfectly. It had, after all, been made with a drop of his blood. Severus cleared his thoughts as he moved into the center of a small clearing. Then, with a loud crack, he Apparated.

-ooOoo-

Severus watched, his face blank under his mask, as Thorfinn Rowle, one of his fellow Death Eaters, was tortured under the Cruciatus curse. He swallowed thickly as the man’s screams of agony bit into his mental defenses. Severus was getting a nervous feeling deep in his gut. He was starting to get frightened. The Dark Lord had gone through more than four other victims before his cold, sanguine gaze landed directly on the Potions Master.

The Dark Lord had smiled evilly, then returned to casting miscellaneous Dark spells on Thorfinn. Severus blinked as suddenly, the curse was broke, and the russet-haired man fell to the ground in a trembling heap. He sobbed weakly, trying to curl up into the fetal position.

Voldemort glided over and roughly nudged the man in the ribs with the very tips of his toes. Thorfinn scrambled to his feet, tears running silently down his face as he shakily stumbled back into the circle of Death Eaters, opposite of where Severus stood beside Evan Rosier.

They were gathered in the dining hall of Riddle Manor, the Dark Lord’s newly renovated home. Apparently, the Dark Lord was sick and tired of using Malfoy Manor as his headquarters, and decided he was going to use his despised father’s home.

The Dark Lord turned and faced Severus, looking directly into his eyes. Severus felt Voldemort casting a silent Legilimens on him, and he brought his Occlumency shields down just enough so the Dark Lord could gain access to his mind. Severus felt the familiar sensation of Voldemort sifting through his memories, searching for any sign of betrayal. Finally, a few tense moments later, Voldemort withdrew. Severus’ shields were back up the second the Dark Lord was gone. He mentally shuddered.

No matter how many times Voldemort had done that to him, he’d always felt violated and empty afterwards. At least the Dark Lord hadn’t been violent that time. Sometimes, the snake-like man preferred using what Severus had bitterly nicknamed mind-rape. It hurt like hell, that was for sure.

The Dark Lord stared icily at Snape for a moment, and then began to speak. “Severus. My favorite spy. Why did you not come when you were called? I ordered you to the graveyard.” He asked silkily, his voice grating against Severus and causing bile to rise in the Potions Master’s throat.

Severus swallowed thickly and responded, “It would have been suspicious if I had left during such a time of panic. I was needed at Hogwarts to keep my cover. It would have been obvious if I had left when Karkaroff did.”

“I see. So you do not know that Igor never came when he was Summoned either?” Voldemort asked nastily, his ruby eyes gleaming.

Severus knew very well Igor had run with his tail between his legs the second the Dark Mark stirred to life. “No, my Lord.”

“Ah. So, would you care to explain to me, why, you did not find our friend Igor and guide him back into my arms?” The Dark Lord hissed.

“Dumbledore forbade me to have any contact that was more than necessary with him, my Lord.” Severus said quietly, holding the Dark Lord’s gaze evenly, as it would have been disrespectful to look away.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Crucio.” Voldemort drawled, almost as if he was bored.

The bolt of crimson magic hit Severus like a train, and the pain hit him even harder after that. The burning agony coursed through his veins, taking his muscles and squeezing them in an iron grip. Severus bit his lower lip so hard he drew blood. With the taste of metallic salt in his mouth, Severus felt his knees buckle out from underneath him.

He hit the ground awkwardly, a hoarse scream tearing from his throat as he jack-knifed off the floor. He felt the cold marble beneath him through his robes, and he writhed, unable to control his body any longer. All the Potions Master could feel was agony, and he hated it. It brought back so many experiences…so many memories. The both physical and emotional pain was almost unbearable.

When the spell finally ended, Severus collapsed to the ground, panting and shaking. It felt like white-hot strings of fire were wrapping around his body, and he was developing a migraine. He was dizzy, nauseous, and it felt like every fiber of his being had been set on an unnaturally hot fire. His head was pounding as he lay there, limply, and gazed up at his sadistic Master.

Eyelashes fluttering weakly, Severus focused his steadily blurring gaze on Voldemort, who was watching him with a lazy smirk on his lips. “Thank you for attending our lovely little get-together, Severus. I expect you to arrive more promptly, with information on the activities of Albus Dumbledore, next time you are Summoned. Dismissed.” The Dark Lord flicked his wand and turned on his heel to climb the stairs of his dais and move to sit on his throne.

He sat, legs crossed at the knees, sanguine eyes cold as he observed Severus awkwardly drag himself to his feet and push through the throngs of Death Eaters to get to the Apparition station. Lucius strolled in past him, smiling, and nodded. Severus ignored him and the smaller blonde figure that walked in past him.

The younger blonde seemed frightened, but then again, this was a Death Eater meeting. Severus swallowed and stopped beside the door of the hall, in a small circle where Apparition was allowed. His head throbbing, Severus took a deep, shuddering breath, and Disapparated.

-ooOoo-

Severus weakly made his way up the castle steps, muscles protesting with every movement he managed to make. It was a miracle he’d not collapsed the moment he’d Apparated onto Hogwarts grounds, although he had seen spots and swayed dangerously before being able to begin the short walk up to the school.

Trembling as he reached the statue of the gargoyle, he hoarsely croaked the password (Sugar Quills) and vanished up the stairwell. Severus sagged against the cool stone wall as he reached out a clenched fist and rapped feebly on the smooth oak door to the Headmaster’s office. Without waiting for Albus’ blessing for him to enter, Severus opened the door and stepped in.

“Ah, Severus, you’ve made it back safely.” Dumbledore greeted, smiling fatherly at his spy.

“I suppose.” Severus replied dryly, his voice cracking on the last syllable as he attempted to enunciate the words.

Albus’ smile went bittersweet, then faded away completely. “The Cruciatus?” He asked softly, his clear blue eyes darkening in a mix of anger and grief.

“Y-Yes, Headmaster. The Dark Lord expects-” Severus broke off and cleared his throat, which was raw and aggravated from screaming. “The Dark Lord expects a traitor in his midst.”

“I see. Is this how you came to be tortured?” Albus asked, folding his hands together on the desk before him and pursing his lips.

Severus nodded, but that was a mistake, and he immediately regretted the action.  He swayed dangerously as his vision blurred and his mind swam in and out of focus. “A-Alb-” The Potions Master’s eyes rolled up almost comically and with a small whimper, he collapsed, allowing the upsurge of unconsciousness to engulf him.

-ooOoo-

“…and he went through a lot last night, Albus. It’s a very dangerous thing you have him doing. If that curse had been held for much longer, Severus could’ve been in danger of losing his mind.” Poppy Pomfrey said, the concern and disapproval thick in her voice.

Severus shifted slightly, refraining from opening his eyes. He was curious as to what Albus and Poppy would say about him. He was still in pain, but it was only a dull ache. Poppy had obviously spelled the Cruciatus counter and a pain relieving potion into him.

His more extreme digits were slightly numb, and he had pins and needles, as if he had fallen asleep in an awkward position. The spy’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, swallowing to rejuvenate his dry, sore throat. Severus then turned his attention back to what the others were saying.

“I hope he’ll be up and about by this afternoon at the latest. He’ll be in a little pain, but that’s natural.” Poppy explained shortly.

Fabric rustled, and suddenly, the light Severus could see through his eyelids went dim. “I know you’re awake, young man. I’ve taken care of you since you were eleven years old. Open your eyes.” Poppy said, smoothing his bangs out of his face.

Severus wrinkled his nose, onyx eyes popping open as he recoiled from the Medi-Witch’s touch. He glowered at her, propping himself up on his elbows. “Leave my hair alone, woman.” He growled.

All that came out was a raspy hiss, and an affronted expression came over his face. Poppy smiled, and from over her shoulder, Albus chuckled. The early dawn light streaming through the windows, Severus blinked around and realized it was the next day.

Poppy pressed a glass of water into his hands and helped him sit up, fluffing the pillows up behind him so he could lean back against them. The raven-haired man felt calmed by the hygienic smelling familiar room. He’d woken up in the Infirmary more times than anyone else, Poppy claimed wryly. Except maybe Harry Potter.

Severus gratefully drank the water in one go, then let Poppy take the glass from him. He wiped the sleeve of his hospital gown across his mouth, then asked,  “How long was I out?”

“All of last afternoon and night. You returned from the meeting at about five o’clock.” Dumbledore said, smiling proudly down at him. “You did well, my boy.”

Severus frowned at the compliment, feeling his ears tinge red with embarrassment. “Yes, well…need I make my report?” He asked eloquently.

Albus and Poppy shared a knowing look that made Severus’ ears go redder. “Yes, Severus.” Dumbledore sighed exasperatedly.

“Alright.” Severus swallowed and smoothed the comforter out across his thighs. “When I arrived, Walden MacNair was being tortured under the Cruciatus. Next, Rodolphus Lestrange, both of the Notts, and Thorfinn Rowle were also tortured under the Cruciatus.”

“And then you were?” Albus prompted as Poppy busied herself with dosing out potions for Severus to take, listening half-heartedly.

Severus nodded. “And the Dark Lord asked why I didn’t go to him when he Summoned me the night of the last task. He also wanted to know why I did not guide Igor Karkaroff back to his Master.” Severus said, a sneer pulling at his thin lips. “The man apparently ran off with his tail between his legs.”

Albus nodded in a calm understanding. “Indeed. Is there anything else you wished to share, my boy?” He asked, raising both eyebrows.

“The Dark Lord wants me to be quicker arriving at the meetings. And I am to keep tabs on you and report to him.” Severus responded dutifully.

Dumbledore nodded, eyes twinkling. “Thank you, my boy. Now, get some sleep. I shall see you later today.” With that, he patted Severus’ knee, then turned and strolled out of the Infirmary.

Severus licked his lips again as Poppy approached with a mother-hen sort of look in her eyes. “You will drink this.” She handed him the Dreamless Sleep she’d apparently finished brewing for him.

He frowned. “Poppy, I can sleep on my own. I am not a child.” Severus said snappishly, crossing his arms over his chest.

She raised an eyebrow in an imitation of him. “And I do not want you having nightmares anymore. Drink.” Before he could react, she reached up and pinched his nose shut. “Open up, you stubborn man.” She ordered.

Severus scowled, but compliantly opened his mouth. She released his nose and pressed the phial against his thin lips. He quickly gulped it down, then spat, “I am more than capable of drinking my own damn potion!”

The Medi-Witch smiled at him. “I know. You’re also capable of using wandless magic to make potions disappear and make it look as if you’ve drank them.” She replied matter-of-factly.

Then-the nerve of that woman!-she brushed his raven bangs out of his face, tucking the greasy locks behind the shell of his ear. “Now sleep, you git.”

Severus grimaced and settled back down into the pillows as he felt the effects of the potion take over him with a sudden wave of drowsiness. With a sigh, Severus closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

-ooOoo-