Snape tried not to pay much attention to his surroundings as he swept up the decrepit front steps of the old Riddle House. Because whenever he did, he would immediately find himself beginning to question his sanity and continued intelligence of spying for Dumbledore inside Lord Voldemort’s hoard of Death Eaters.

Over the years, his time in Lord Voldemort’s service had taken him to many different places – and none of them really that bright or pleasant. But if there was one place Snape could not bring himself to get used to, it was the old Riddle estate.

The Riddle House was a leaning old manor house set just outside the town of Little Hangleton. Years ago, it had been a proud and handsome structure, one of the grandest buildings for miles around. But it long ago fallen into neglect after the mysterious deaths of its former owners some fifty years ago.

Weeds choked its front yard, and filled its fallow fields. Its paint was chipped and grey, peeling away from its sides like the skin of some giant snake. Its windows were broken and dark, its shutters banging dolefully in the wind. If anything, the place reminded Snape of a Muggle haunted house.

But there were things far more sinister than just restless spirits or untamed ghosts roaming its darkened hallways; because for the past several months now, the old derelict house had become Lord Voldemort’s main meeting place for him and his hoards of Death Eaters.

Snape forced himself to betray no outward sign of unease as he passed over the threshold into the house’s dark interior. Though there was little in the world that could make the acerbic Potions master of Hogwarts so ill at ease, the Riddle House never failed to send a small shiver down his spine. Voldemort had chosen for his main base of operations well – even if only for its aesthetic purpose of intimidation and fear...

Snape navigated the gloomy manor house easily; he’d walked these hallways enough from all his past travels to the Riddle House for meetings to be able to find his way through the place blindfolded. But that still didn’t mean he had to enjoy going there...

There was only one time he hadn’t been apprehensive about entering Voldemort’s stronghold. But he was pretty sure that was because he’d been more concerned about making sure a certain teenage ghost wasn’t going to follow him around for the rest of his life instead of worrying about Voldemort’s old house. He supposed the boy’s presence had helped stave off the worst of the unease such a building inspired, but if given the choice again, Snape would have forgone the presence of his Gryffindor companion... Lord only knew how much trouble that boy had caused him...

He’d been lucky to make it away from Little Hangleton still alive – let alone with his espionage position still intact. His encounter with McCourn had been closer than what he liked to admit. If Potter’s soul hadn’t already been beginning to reform – thus allowing him to conjure a powerful Shielding Charm – Snape didn’t want to think how that night might have ended...

Snape scowled under his Death Eater’s mask. That boy was more trouble than he was worth. It was amazing he’d lived so long to even see his fifteenth birthday... It was even more amazing that it always seemed to be him saving the trouble-making Gryffindor from every conceivable misadventure he got himself into. Sometimes Snape had to wonder what he’d done in a past life to deserve such a fate...

But Snape pushed those thoughts from his head as he ventured deeper into the house. The boy was back in his body, and he was once again free of the boy’s presence. All was back as it should be. Now, if things could only stay like that, Snape could consider himself a happy man.

A faint light was now visible at the end of the hallway. Snape forced himself back to the present, and made his way towards the light. As he’d told Dumbledore earlier that day, the Dark Lord had summoned his servants for one last meetings before tonight’s attack on Azkaban, and he couldn’t afford to be late. He was already in a precarious enough position as it was from Potter’s misadventure to risk any more suspicions by being late.

Hopefully Dumbledore had warned the Ministry and other members of the Order by now and were ready to meet Lord Voldemort’s attack with a counterstrike. If everything went right, this attack could possibly weaken Voldemort’s side and help gain an upper hand for the Light side.

But until that time, Snape would just have to keep quiet and see how the night’s raid went. After all, that was a spy’s job: to wait and watch...

He could hear the low murmur of voices now. Most of Voldemort’s followers must have already arrived. Squaring his shoulders in preparation of what was to come, Snape swept into the large room at the end of the hall.

As Snape suspected, most of Voldemort’s top-ranking followers were already there. The room was like a vast ocean of black. White masks bobbed here and there amongst the sea of black robed figures like buoys on choppy water. Many of the Death Eaters stood together in small groups, speaking in hushed tones.

Snape couldn’t see Voldemort or make out any sign he was anywhere nearby, and so took up a post by himself near the door. Though he was masked like everybody else, he had no desire to be recognized and drawn into conversation. The less he interacted with other Death Eaters, the easier it was for him to safeguard his position as a spy inside Voldemort’s ranks.

But it seemed Fate was not on the Potion master’s side that night, and his entrance had attracted more attention than what he wanted...

“Well, well, well... If it isn’t Dumbledore’s watch dog finally come out of his dungeons to grace us with his presence... And here I was beginning to think you were too ashamed to show your face here again...”

Snape instantly recognized the cold, silky voice of the Death Eater that approached him, and scowled under his mask. It was with great effort he forced himself to keep a civil tone.

“Lucius...” he drawled.

The elder Malfoy’s eyes narrowed at Snape through his mask slits. “I wasn’t expecting you to show tonight, Severus. I’ve seen so little of you these past couple of weeks I could only assume you were in bad standing with the Dark Lord. But I guess I was wrong... After all, I suppose anyone can make a mistake. I just can’t help find it amazing though you couldn’t tell if Potter was really dead or not. That’s usually something you don’t make a mistake about...”

“Like I told the Dark Lord,” Snape dangerously hissed, “I never got to actually see the boy after Dumbledore brought him back. I could only assume things from what little information I actually had at the time.”

“I’m sure...” Lucius sneered. “Isn’t it just miraculous though how Potter always seems to evade death even when you’ve had so many opportunities to kill him over the last four years. Even with Dumbledore watching over him I would think you still should have been able to dispose of one little boy. One would almost have to think you’re not trying hard enough...”

“Dumbledore has more security around that boy than a vault in Gringgots,” Snape darkly hissed. “Don’t think I haven’t tried ridding the world of that annoying little brat. But every time I try and make a move, Dumbledore always shows up at the last minute and ruins my plans.”

“I’m sure he does...” Lucius replied with a derisive look in his pale grey eyes. “It’s such a shame McCourn wasn’t able to actually kill Potter. The Dark Lord was so pleased when he heard about the boy’s death. I suppose it’s best McCourn died when he did though... The Dark Lord would have probably killed him for his failure anyway when he heard Potter was still alive.”

Snape gave a disgusted snort. “What is truly a shame is that the Dark Lord didn’t get a chance to do that... He probably would have made him suffer longer than what I got a chance to do. McCourn barely got what he deserved...”

Lucius eyed Snape through narrowed eyes. “Yes... It’s rather strange McCourn died the way he did right before Potter’s wand mysteriously went missing. You know the Dark Lord is still very curious to find out what happened to it...”

“I’m sure he is,” Snape casually replied, keeping his voice carefully devoid of emotion as though he really didn’t care what Lucius was talking about.

“Wouldn’t it be strange if Potter’s wand suddenly turned up back in the boy’s possession?” Lucius then slyly asked. “After all, how would Potter ever know where the Dark Lord’s meeting place was unless someone told him or there was someone working for Dumbledore inside the Dark Lord’s ranks...”

Snape felt himself begin to grow wary and guarded. Lucius’ line of questioning was starting to become dangerously uncomfortable. Somehow Lucius’ tone didn’t lead Snape to believe the elder Malfoy was asking these questions without some kind of suspicion fueling his cryptic hints...

“That is an interesting theory to explain where Potter’s wand might have gone,” Snape replied, “but to the best of my knowledge, he had to get a replacement wand after his run-in with McCourn. So I guess that disproves your theory of the disappearing wand.”

Lucius’ eyes narrowed at Snape. “I guess it does. After all, what do I know about the going ons of the Light side. That’s why we have you. It’s your job to spy on Dumbledore and his little band of do-gooders. That’s what makes you so important to the Dark Lord after all... Just be careful, Snape. Just because you’re a spy doesn’t mean you know everything about the ones you’re spying on...”

Then giving Snape one last pointed look, Lucius turned and melded back into the press of other Death Eaters crowding the room.

Snape stood where he was for several minutes staring after Lucius, trying to decipher Malfoy’s last parting words. What did he mean by that? Did Lucius suspect his position as a spy for Dumbledore? And how did he seem to know about Potter having his wand back? Was he in danger of being exposed? These and other disturbing possibilities crossed the Potion master’s mind.

But Snape didn’t get a chance to ponder his situation anymore as a sudden hush came over the room, and everyone turned to face the front.

Lord Voldemort had arrived.

Like some living vision of the Grim Reaper, Voldemort glided into the room through a side doorway. His blood red eyes scanned the room as he moved, seeming to catalog everyone’s attendance or absence. Snape felt Voldemort’s eyes slowly come to rest on him at the back of the room, his icy gaze boring him for what seemed like an endless half second of eternity. But then, like the passing of some terrible evil, Voldemort moved on. A violent shiver went down Snape’s spine.

Finally coming to the front, Voldemort turned to face his followers. Another long pause of silence ensued as Voldemort scanned the room one last time. Several Death Eaters shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

“My followers,” Voldemort finally said, breaking the tense silence of the room. “Tonight we prepare to do what none have done before: strike Azkaban prison. Tonight we will make our first decisive strike against the Ministry of Magic and those who would dare to defy us. Many of your fellow Death Eaters sit locked in Azkaban as we speak because they chose to sacrifice everything they had to follow me. They did not renounce their allegiances to me, or go into hiding when I was struck down and turned into a broken spirit by a miscalculated Killing Curse. They remained faithful to me even when the Ministry sentenced them to life in Azkaban – a terrible fate only eclipsed by the Dementor’s Kiss. And it is for this reason and others we go to free them tonight. Their sacrifices and loyalty will not go unrewarded. I will not leave those that show such loyalty to me rot in prison...”

A cry of devotion went up from Voldemort’s hoard of Death Eaters, cheering for their master’s plans and supposed concern for their own well-being. Snape snorted softly to himself. If only they knew how fast their caring master would sacrifice them the moment it was most advantageous to him, Snape thought with a scowl. Poor deluded fools...

Voldemort was talking again. His followers’ cries died away almost instantaneously.

“This attack will not only free those that have given more than many of you here have to my cause, but it will also be a final declaration to the Wizarding world that I am truly returned. With this attack, those in the Ministry that still fight to deny my return will be forced to recognize once and for all that I, the great Lord Voldemort, am alive and well, and ready to unleash my reign of terror onto this country once again!”

A collective shudder went through the room at the sound of Voldemort’s name, but the Dark Lord hardly even seemed to notice. Looking into the crowd, he loudly called, “Lucius! Come forward!”

Snape watched as Lucius proudly made his way to the front of the room, the others Death Eaters parting like water before him. Kneeling before Voldemort, Lucius bowed his head. “My Lord...” he said.

Voldemort red eyes glimmered darkly in the candle light as he motioned Lucius back up. “Rise, my faithful servant. You have proven yourself loyal to me and cunning, so I am entrusting you with leading tonight’s attack. I expect nothing but success from you and will forgive no failure. I know there are those close to you in Azkaban and expect to welcome them back into our company very soon... ”

Lucius bowed low. “You honor me, my Lord, with this mission... I will not let you down.”

Voldemort nodded distractedly. Turning back to his other followers he said, “The rest of you know your orders. Do not fail me. This is only the beginning of what is to come. Let all those that stand against us tremble at the name of Lord Voldemort and his strength. Now go and prepare for tonight’s attack!”

An answering cry of determination went up from his hoard of Death Eaters, and they all began to drift away to fulfill their master’s command. Snape began to turn to follow the rest of them out, but just as he was about to reach the door, a cold, serpentine voice called after him. “Snape... If you would please stay a moment...”

Snape slowly turned back to see Voldemort still standing at the head of the room, Lucius close beside him.

Swallowing his misgivings, Snape swept to the front of the room and bowed low at the waist. “My Lord...”

Voldemort stared at Snape with cold red eyes, his pale sunken face bathed in dark half-shadows. If any lesser man had been in the Potion master’s place right then, he would have surely shrunk away in fear. But Snape stood his ground and held the Dark Lord’s gaze undaunted.

Voldemort seemed to sense Snape strong resolution, and grinned in satisfaction. “You are a brave man, Snape,” he slowly drawled. “There are few others like you amongst my followers...”

“Thank you, my Lord,” Snape replied, bowing at the waist again.

“That is why I want you to accompany Lucius on tonight’s attack.”

Snape sharply looked back up at Voldemort. “What?” he stammered.

Voldemort gave Snape another nasty grin. “Tonight’s attack is crucial in establishing my return to the Wizarding world, and I want no mistakes. Though I trust Lucius impeccably with carrying this mission out, I want another of my trusted servants there to make sure all goes according to plan. You have proven yourself countless times over to be intelligent and skilled in ways of combat. I want you there on the front lines...”

“But, my Lord,” Snape said, “I run the risk of being exposed if I am captured or spotted during the attack. To send me on this raid would run the risk of me possibly losing my position as a spy in Hogwarts.”

Voldemort however didn’t seem to hear. “You will be masked during the attack and with several dozen other Death Eaters; you will not be recognized. Nor do I expect you to be captured. We will strike so quickly, the Aurors will have no time to recover or mount a counterattack. I also trust in your dueling skills should such a situation arise, so I have no fear of you being discovered.”

Snape desperately racked his brains for some other reason not to go, but could think of nothing. Bowing his head in defeat, he softly whispered, “As you wish, my Lord...”

“Very good. Now go and prepare for the attack. We move out soon.”

“Yes, my Lord...” Snape whispered, and bowed one last time before heading for the door.

As he came to the threshold he chanced one more look back over his shoulder towards Lucius and Voldemort. He saw a pointed look pass between them, and felt a cold chill run down his spine. And it was with a growing sense of unease he left to ready himself for the coming night.

A little over an hour later found Snape hiding on the banks of the River Acheron – the main waterway separating Azkaban from the rest of the world. Across the vast expanse of water the prison’s dark outline could be seen against the inky black sky. There was no moon overhead to give off their position or alert their enemies to their approach – perfect conditions for a surprise attack.Snape crouched lower behind the prickly bush he’d been stationed. He forced himself not to growl in frustration. This was shaping up to be a perfectly horrible night. First, he’d had a particularly unpleasant confrontation with Lucius Malfoy and now had him suspicious to his loyalties. Then, he’d been ordered to join the attack on Azkaban which was now fated to wind up disastrous for him no matter which side won. And then! to top everything off, he’d been stationed behind this godforsaken bush to wait for their signal to move. Was there no justice in this world? 

Fighting off the urge to send a particularly nasty Incinerating Charm at the offending shrub, Snape waited in silence for some kind of sign from his fellow Death Eaters. Several minutes passed before he suddenly heard the soft rustling of leaves and branches somewhere off to his side. His wand held at the ready, Snape spotted Lucius slowly creep his way towards him through the shore’s dense brush line.

“Snape,” Lucius hissed, crouching down beside the Potions master, “we’re ready to move.”

Snape nodded and followed the elder Malfoy out onto the beach. There was little to no security on the mainland’s beach to worry about being spotted by the prison’s guards just yet. Along the rocky shoreline, at least three dozen other Death Eaters emerged from their hiding spots to join Snape and Lucius on the river edge.

“Everyone knows the plan,” Lucius whispered. “There’d better not be any mistakes...” Then pulling his wand out, he conjured half a dozen small, wooden boats. Their bottoms thumped dully along the river bottom; their prows bobbed gently up and down in the cold, choppy water. “Once out on the water, there’s no talking,” Lucius hissed. “We don’t want to be spotted until we’re already inside the prison. If I hear any unnecessary sound, I will personally make sure that person talking will be left behind to enjoy Azkaban’s hospitality. Is that clear?”

There was no dissenting answer from any of the other Death Eaters.

Lucius nodded. “Good. Now get in.” No one wasted any time, and quickly divided themselves up amongst the boats.

Somehow Snape found himself in the same boat as Lucius. Lucius also noticed his sailing companion and gave the Potions master a dark look. Snape responded in kind. Neither was glad to share the other’s company – especially after their confrontation earlier that evening...

Pushing off shore, they guided their boats towards the foreboding island in the distance. As they glided soundlessly across the water, Snape stared in the direction of the hulking prison. He could only hope the Aurors were already stationed at the gate, lying in wait for them to attack. Though he knew if he was captured his position as a spy – for either side – was pretty well shot, he knew the Light side couldn’t afford to lose this battle. This was possibly going to turn into the first decisive battle of the war... All he could do to settle his restless nerves was know that he’d done everything he could to warn Dumbledore and the Order beforehand. Let come what may now...

But Snape was brutally torn away from any shred of comfort he might have had as he suddenly noticed the boats veering off to the far side of the island, away from the main landing docks.

“Where are we going?” he softly whispered to Lucius. “Why aren’t we heading for that docks? That’s the only entrance into the prison.”

Lucius shot Snape a withering glare out of the corner of his eye before tartly whispering back, “That’s what you think. The Dark Lord has had a secret informant inside Azkaban for the past several months. It seems someone tipped them off we were planning an attack tonight. But it really doesn’t matter... We have another way in that won’t entitle us having to fight an all out war just to get in through the front gates. They won’t know what hit them until it’s too late...”

Snape stared at Lucius in horror. There was another entrance? This wasn’t good... He’d been expecting Voldemort to attack through the front gate – the only entrance he knew of into the prison. All the Aurors were going to be waiting there for them to attack, not through some other side entrance. What was he going to do? He had to warn them...

But Snape didn’t have time to think of a way to alert the guards; for just at that moment he felt the boat grind up against the island’s rocky, desolate shore. Around him, the other Death Eaters were already getting out of their boats and hurrying onto shore. Snape followed more slowly, still trying to think of some way to surreptitiously warn the guards inside.

Lucius led their band to the base of the prison’s outer wall. A hundred feet of sheer, unscalable rock face stretched up over them to the ramparts high above. Snape couldn’t see any sign of guards on top it. Silently cursing to himself, Snape hurried after Lucius and the rest of his Death Eaters.

Lucius followed the bulwark for several dozen yards before suddenly coming to a stop in front of a small group of trees growing up alongside the dark wall face. Their limbs were twisted and black, gnarled from years of struggling for life out on the island’s harsh, unforgiving rocks. Pulling a section of dead branches aside, Lucius uncovered the entrance to what looked like a small drainage tunnel.

Snape peered past him into the yawning black mouth.

“This is it,” Lucius said. “Wands out and ready. It’s a battle from here on in.” The other Death Eaters followed Lucius’ example and pulled their wands out. “Lumos,” Malfoy incanted, and slipped into the tunnel.

Snape followed after Lucius, his own wand held up and radiating a soft, blue light from its tip. A dank, rotten smell filled the air, making Snape glad he had his Death Eater’s mask to help block out the worst of the stench. Sludgy water splashed around their feet, echoing far into the unknown depths of the sewers. No one spoke or made any kind of noise except for the soft splash of their feet.

For some time they transversed the dark, winding passages. Though he had long ago lost track of their route, Snape felt as though they were now somewhere directly under the prison.

As if to confirm Snape’s suspicions, Lucius suddenly stopped in front of a small side tunnel branching off from the one they were currently traveling. Everyone come to a halt behind him.

“We’re now directly under the main prison block,” Lucius whispered. “This tunnel-“ he gestured to the tunnel beside him“-will lead us almost directly up to where we want to be. This will also be our main escape route. Should you be cut off or unable to get back here, head for the main gates and try to steal a boat to get back to shore. The rest is up to you. Should you fail, do not bother coming back to base. The Dark Lord will not forgive failure...” Then holding his wand up high to light the way, he slipped into the new passageway.

Snape and the others followed him. For several more minutes they traveled the winding tunnel in silence. Snape could feel the gradient slowly rising the farther they went. Suddenly, up ahead, he saw a faint light shining at the end of the tunnel. Lucius killed his light as did the rest of them as they neared.

Coming to a barred grate at the end, Lucius gave one last look over his shoulder to the other Death Eaters crowding the tunnel behind him. “For power and glory,” he said. Then with a powerful curse, Lucius sent the grate flying backwards off its rivets with a deafening crash.

The rest of what happened next was like a blur to Snape. Like a black stream of death, he and his fellow Death Eaters spilled out into Azkaban. Running through the halls, they made their way towards the main cell block where the ones they were there to free were kept.

Turning a sharp corner, Snape and Lucius – running at the head of the line – suddenly found themselves face to face with two Aurors coming towards them down the hall.

Lucius immediately raised his wand and aimed it at the nearest guard. “Avada Ked-”

“Stupify!” Snape screamed and cut Lucius off before he could finish his curse. The two Aurors simultaneously fell to the ground, unconscious but still very much alive.

The masked blonde sent Snape a scathing glare, but didn’t have time to demand why the Potion master had aborted his Killing Curse before the startled cries of more guards coming down the hall rang out. Curses and hexes began to fly as Death Eaters stormed past them to meet the approaching guards. Screams and the smell of burnt flesh filled the air.

Snape tried to block out the horrible sights and sounds as he and Lucius were forced to abandon their confrontation and run again. It was like he was trapped in some kind of nightmarish dream he couldn’t wake up from.

As they ran, the Death Eaters began to separate, dividing into smaller groups to spread out into adjoining halls. Taking the opportunity, Snape veered off from the others into another passageway. From what he could tell, they were in the center part of the building – too far away from the gates for the Aurors there to know they’d already infiltrated the prison. If he could somehow get closer, he might be able to set off the alarm and let them know they were already there.

As he ran he could hear the sound of battle echoing down the hallway towards him. He had to hurry. Lucius and the rest of his gang sounded like they’d already reached the main prison block. If he didn’t hurry, Lord Voldemort’s other followers would be set free, and what few Aurors still guarding the cells would be outnumbered more than five to one.

Quickening his pace, Snape sharply turned down another passage. But as he did, he felt himself collide with what felt like a red robed brick wall coming the opposite direction. Stumbling backwards, Snape instinctively drew his wand at his unknown attacker. Though he was going for help, he knew any Auror he met would immediately take him as an enemy and deal with him as such.

But it seemed Luck was on Snape’s side that night; and the man he’d run into was a secret ally.

“Shacklebolt? It’s me!” he exclaimed, holding his hands up to the side as he stared down the wand suddenly aimed in his face.

“Snape?” Shacklebolt said, his eyes widening in surprise as he recognized the voice behind the mask. He quickly stepped back from Snape and lowered his wand. “What are you doing here? Dumbledore said you were going to be with Voldemort during the attack.”

“That’s what I thought too, but I somehow got dragged into this... Listen, Lucius found another way into the prison and is in the main cell block as we speak. He’s going to free the Dark Lord’s other followers. He has about three dozen other Death Eaters already with him, so if you don’t want Azkaban overrun by Death Eaters, I suggest you warn the other Aurors at the gates and get them down here now!”

Shacklebolt visibly paled. “I had a feeling something was wrong when we didn’t see anyone coming for the gates...” Looking at Snape, Shacklebolt gave him with a worried look. “Snape, you can’t be seen here; you have to get out. Other Aurors are going to be coming any minute now and we can’t risk you being seen. Can you get back out the way you came in?”

Snape shook his head. “No. Lucius and the other Death Eaters are covering all the hallways back to the tunnel. If I go back that way, I’ll be seen and questioned why I’m leaving.”

Shacklebolt glanced behind him down the hall he’d just come. In the distance, he could hear the faint sound of footsteps hurrying towards them. It seemed the alarm had finally reached the Aurors at the front gate and they were now coming to help.

“You have to get out of here,” Shacklebolt said, grabbing Snape by the arm and steering him towards another hallway. “Go down this hall until you reach the north corridor, then follow that to your right for a hundred feet. There’ll be a room to your left. Inside is a hidden tunnel that will lead you to the beach; just use a Revealing Spell to find the entrance. Once outside, sneak back to the docks and take one of the boats there back to shore. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” Snape nodded, a little bit startled by the concern in Shacklebolt’s voice. Though both of them were in the Order and on the same side, Snape was not used to the idea of someone else going out of their way to help him like this.

“Good. I’ll make sure no one follows you,” Shacklebolt went on, still urging Snape towards the hall. “Keep quiet and don’t let anyone see you.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” Snape replied. “I’ve been doing this for longer than I care to admit and know how to evade capture.”

The sound of running feet was getting closer.

Shacklebolt quickly turned back to Snape. “Go. I’ll direct them away from you while you get away.”

Snape nodded and made as if to leave, but then stopped and turned back. “Be careful. Lucius almost killed two Aurors already. He and the other Death Eaters aren’t going to use just Stunning Curses; this is an all out war now... They’ll be aiming to kill...”

The Aurors were almost right on top of them now.

Shacklebolt gave Snape another nod and waved him towards the hall. “Go. I’ll see you back at Headquarters once this is all over.”

Snape didn’t need anymore urging and sped away down the hall. Shacklebolt also turned and ran the other direction to meet the coming Aurors.

Unbeknownst to either Order member though was that their little encounter had not gone unobserved. For hiding in the shadows of an adjacent hallway, a dark robed figure watched the two separate and disappear in their respective directions. And it was with a murderous fire burning in his pale grey eyes that Lucius Malfoy turned and hurried back towards his fellow Death Eaters.

Severus Snape was going to have much to answer for...

The Riddle House was as dark and foreboding as it had been when Snape first arrived earlier that evening. Only now, Snape was too tired to really care about the old house’s frightening atmosphere.It had taken him longer to get back than he thought it would. After leaving Shacklebolt, he’d followed the Auror’s instructions and escaped out onto the beach without anyone seeing him. Unfortunately, by the time he’d gotten out, the whole prison had been alerted to the Death Eater’s break in and had been put on full alert. He’d had to wait almost an hour before it was safe enough for him to steal a boat back to the mainland. After that, he’d had to hike several miles before he was finally free of the prison’s Anti-Apparition wards so he could Disapparate back to Little Hangleton. 

Wearily making his way up the front steps, Snape entered the house. All he wanted to do right then was to go to bed and sleep. He felt like he’d just survived the longest day of his life. Unfortunately, he knew it’d probably be several more hours before he’d be able to go to sleep. From what he’d been able to see outside the prison while waiting to steal a boat, Voldemort’s forces had been scattered by the Aurors’ quick recovery and counterattack on the prison block. It looked like many of the Death Eaters had been either captured or killed in the attack, and Snape knew Voldemort was going to want a report.

Making his way through the house, Snape came to the room Voldemort had held the meeting earlier that night. A low fire was burning in the fireplace, casting long dark shadows across the room. The room was empty except for a small cluster of black robed figures at the front. There, Snape also found the Dark Lord Voldemort sitting in an old, high backed chair with Nagini wrapped in a coil at his feet.

“Severus...” Voldemort hissed at the Potion master’s entrance. “What took you so long?”

The other Death Eaters crowded around Voldemort all quieted and turned to watch Snape kneel at their master’s feet.

“I was separated from the rest of the attack party and had to find my own escape route from the prison. It seems the Aurors were quicker to mount a counterattack than we anticipated,” Snape replied, keeping his head humbly bowed to the Dark Lord as he spoke. “I had to sneak to the docks and steal a boat before I could get far enough away to Disapparate. I came back as quickly as I could.”

Voldemort’s eyes flashed a crimson red. “I see...” he drawled in a dangerous hiss. “And no one helped you find a way out for you to hurry back here to me?”

Snape felt something inside him tighten in warning. “No, my Lord,” he carefully replied. “I tried getting back to the rest of the group, but I was cut off by a group of Aurors coming to confront us. I would have stayed and fought but I was too outnumbered.”

Voldemort’s skeletal face contorted into an ugly mask of wrath. “Is that so?” he said. “Then why is it Lucius here came to me saying he saw you consorting with a Ministry Auror during the attack, and that he gave you instructions on how to safely get out of Azkaban so he could, I quote, ‘see you back at Headquarters...?’”

Snape sharply scanned the group of Death Eaters standing around Voldemort and spotted Lucius’ cold, grey eyes staring back at him from under his mask, challenging him to deny what he’d seen.

“I don’t know what he’s talking about, my Lord,” Snape replied, not about to accept his defeat. “I met no one in the halls except the group of Aurors coming to stop us. I met no one like Lucius accuses me of...”

“Liar!” Lucius shouted, stepping forward. “I saw you. I followed you after you tried slipping away from the attack without anyone noticing to go warn the Aurors at the gate. You’ve been spying for Dumbledore this entire time, you traitor!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Snape shouted back. “I would never betray our master!”

“Enough!” Voldemort roared, and leveled blood red eyes at Snape. Aiming his wand at the Potion master, he hissed, “Legilimens!”

Snape fell to his knees from the force of the Dark Lord’s attack, holding his head in agony. It felt like hot blades were cutting through his skull, trying to tear his brain to pieces. A stream of unorganized thoughts and memories flashed before his eyes. But before Voldemort could see anything damaging, Snape managed to Occlude his mind and close it to the Dark Lord’s invasion. Sweating and panting from the effort it took to push the Dark Lord from his mind, Snape remained kneeling on the floor.

“Very good, Severus...” Voldemort softly hissed. “But it will do you no good. I already know you’re spying for Dumbledore. I’ve had my suspicions ever since Potter’s little accident. I thought it was very strange how he suddenly reappeared alive and well, and one of my best Death Eaters wound up dead with you somehow involved in both incidents... I also don’t doubt you were behind the boy’s wand disappearing and turning up back in his possession...”

Snape slowly picked himself up off the floor and narrowed defiant eyes at Voldemort. Tearing his Death Eater’s mask off, he threw it to the ground with disgust. It was no use trying to deny his true allegiances anymore... If he was going to die, he was at least going to do it on his feet, facing his enemy like a man. “So you know...” he said, contemptuously staring back at Voldemort and his pack of Death Eaters. “Go on and kill me then like the murderers you are...”

Voldemort chuckled softly under his breath. “No... not just yet, my dear Severus... You have much you must be punished for before you can be granted the release of death...”

“May we do it, my Lord?” an eager female voice said from beside Voldemort. “It’s been so long since we’ve had any fun... And we’re so out of practice...”

Voldemort’s snake-like lips contorted into the wicked parody of a smile. “Why of course, Bellatrix,” he grinned. “Thirteen years of Azkaban is far too long a time for you to miss the joys of torture...”

Snape stared at the masked woman. Bellatrix Lestrange... Of course Voldemort would be sure she was one of the first ones he freed from Azkaban... She was possibly one of the most psychotic murderers in Voldemort’s fold. No doubt some of the other Death Eaters in the Dark Lord’s presence were other convicts Lucius and his gang had managed to free before the Aurors had showed up...”

Bellatrix’s eyes shined with an almost predatory gleam as she stepped towards Snape. “Poor widdle Potions master...” she crooned in a high-pitched baby voice. “Someone should have taught you not to betray the Dark Lord. Because it might be the last thing you do... Crucio!”

Snape fell writhing to the floor. He struggled to aim his wand at Bellatrix to stun her through the haze of pain clouding his vision, but before he could, he felt his wand brutally ripped out of his hand by a powerful Disarming Spell cast by one of the other Death Eaters.

A small circle of Death Eaters formed around the downed Potions master. One by one, they took turns cursing him. Crucios, Contorting Spells, and Fire Charms were only some of the spells they used. But Snape refused to give them the pleasure of hearing him scream, and bit down on his tongue to keep himself from crying out. He didn’t know how long they tortured him, but he finally heard Voldemort shout out over their curses, “Enough!”

Snape lay there motionless as the Death Eaters backed away from him, trying to reorganize his shattered thoughts and strength. His body screamed in agony. Every inch of him hurt. Pain coursed through his body so intense Snape couldn’t seem to remember a time he hadn’t hurt so much. A small line of blood ran down his lip to his chin. He couldn’t be sure, but he felt as though several ribs were broken and one of his ankles was horribly sprained, if not permanently twisted.

Swallowing his misery, Snape painfully pushed himself to his knees and glared at Voldemort through a curtain of mussed black hair. “Kill me...” he rasped, wiping the line of blood from his face. “You’re not going to break me like this, and I’m not going to amuse you by trying to beg for my life or ask you for mercy. So stop playing around and just kill me...”

Voldemort met Snape’s demand with a wicked grin. “No, no, no, Severus... You misunderstand what I intend to do with you. I don’t want you dead – at least not yet, that is... I have much bigger plans in store for you... Even though you have proven yourself a traitor and spy, I can still think of several ways you can be useful to me...”

Snape glared at Voldemort. “I’m not going to do anything for you,” he spat. “My days of doing your bidding are over. And there’s nothing you can do to make me.”

But Voldemort hardly seemed put off by the Potion master’s vehement declaration. “Oh, I think there is,” he chuckled, staring at Snape with malicious red eyes. “I’m going to make you do for me what you’ve been doing for Dumbledore all this time. I know it’s a crude method of manipulation, but I’m sure you’ve heard of the Imperius Curse?”

Snape’s eyes narrowed, but he otherwise betrayed no outward sign of emotion.

Voldemort laughed at the Potion master’s reaction. “I know what you’re thinking, Severus, but it won’t work. I know you can fight off the Imperius Curse. You are, after all, a master Occlumens... The Imperius Curse would barely even last five minutes on you... But I have something else that will make sure you remain completely under my control...” Turning to Lucius, the Dark Lord nodded his head.

Through Lucius’ eye slits, Snape saw the elder Malfoy’s eyes sparkle with malicious glee. Reaching into his robes, Lucius pulled out what looked like a tiny stone shard from some hidden, inner pocket. It was half an inch long, and such a deep purple coloring, it shined almost black in the dancing light of the fire. Holding it between his thumb and forefinger, Lucius slowly approached Snape with it.

Without even knowing what it was, Snape could sense something unspeakably evil about the tiny stone shard and knew he could not let it touch him. Gathering his strength, he tried to make a run for the door.

“Restrain him!” Voldemort yelled.

“Crucio!” Bellatrix’s voice rang out, and before Snape could even get to his feet, found himself once more writhing on the ground. The curse was quickly cut off, and Snape felt several hands grab him and pull him to his knees facing Lucius.

Snape struggled for a moment against the two Death Eaters holding him, but he was too weak from his previous torturing to fight them, and had to abandon his struggles.

Voldemort slowly got to his feet and joined Lucius in front of Snape. Snape openly glared at them, hatred burning in his eyes.

“I suppose this is it, Snape,” Lucius said, tauntingly holding the stone shard up for Snape to see. “Too bad Dumbledore isn’t going to be able to help you out of this one...”

“I’ll see you rot in Azkaban before this war is over, Lucius,” Snape softly hissed. “And I’ll make sure I see you in Hell,” he added to Voldemort, spitting at the Dark Lord’s feet.

Voldemort’s eyes flashed dangerously. “We’ll see about that...” he hissed, and motioned for Lucius to proceed.

A vindictive look shining in his pale, grey eyes, Lucius grabbed a fistful of Snape’s hair and brutally forced his head down. Pushing the Potion master’s collar back, Lucius pressed the stone to the base of Severus’ neck.

Snape cried out as he felt the stone touch his skin. It felt like black ice. He could almost feel the dark magic radiating from its core as it began to magically sink into his neck. Thrashing and screaming at the undescribable pain it caused him as the stone disappeared beneath his skin, Snape fought for release. But his restrainers only gripped him tighter and held him immobile.

Snape’s tortured screams reverberated through the room as Voldemort slowly stepped forward and raised his wand at the writhing Potions master.

“Imperio!”

Snape’s helpless cries continued to wordlessly echo into the night.

Meanwhile, several hundred miles away, Harry Potter woke up screaming in a cold sweat...