Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Inside me. ❯ A new position. ( Chapter 14 )

Disclaimer - After fourteen chapters of furious typing I still do not own the characters, settings or rights to anything in the Harry Potter universe. Harry Potter and all associated matters of the franchise belong to JK Rowling and associates.

 

Author's notes - Well thank you Deathly Hallows. I had hoped that by setting my story within the realms of back-story the final book would not throw all my efforts out of canonical possibility. However, I hope that you can still enjoy this story, in the same way that I still enjoy fanfic written much earlier in the series which has been rendered inaccurate by subsequent events. Also thanks go to Sakiku and Mirena, both of whom took the time to leave very encouraging reviews. Although I write for my own enjoyment it is always a pleasure to hear that other people have found something enjoyable in my stories. There is only one more chapter to go after this one, so hang on in there if I have any regular readers.

 

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Dumbledore sighed and lowered his tall lean frame into a comfortable chair, groaning in a mixture of pain and relief as his ageing bones were cradled by the soft cushions. It had been another very long Order meeting tonight and Alastor had been fanatically rash in some of his suggested plans. Sometimes Albus felt that half of his work within the Order was to keep Alastor and the other more fanatical members from killing themselves recklessly. Alastor may be an excellent auror, but too many years spent battling the darker side of magical society had marked him. The man was one formal complaint short of being given early retirement by the Ministry.

 

Tonight Albus needed something a little stronger than his customary teas to get him through the pile of correspondence that had accumulated during his absence from the school grounds. He wandlessly summoned a bottle and glass from his liquor cabinet and poured a generous measure of sweet sherry out. Then he applied himself to the seemingly never ending stacks of parchment.

 

His industrious toil was interrupted by the arrival of yet another owl through the slightly open window. Dumbledore suppressed a stab of irrational resentment - pull yourself together man, swearing at the local wildlife won't solve anything - he told himself fiercely.

 

`Raids are all very well, but remember the use the Queen put Tamino to. You both ignore the obvious in favour of mindless violence.'

 

The note was signed with a `T' again and Dumbledore's lips thinned with annoyance under his beard. The operatic allusions were wearing thin (especially since Dumbledore much preferred the intimacy of chamber music) and the not so veiled insinuation was offensive. Did this hidden heckler not imagine he was doing his best to recruit intelligence officers? How could he find a spy when those he sought to spy upon were so fanatical? He'd tried converting a few, but only the lowliest of Deatheaters would even entertain such a prospect and their information was woefully inadequate being vague at best and false at worst. Grooming one of his own to join would require an occlumens of great skill, a person capable of casting Deatheater and other Dark spells and a Slytherin willing to help him - the most unlikely prospect of all.

 

Dumbledore shook his head and tossed the useless scrap of parchment into the fire. The last thing he needed was smart-alec heckling from someone too cowardly even to speak as themselves.

 

Said smart-alec had more pressing concerns than whether or not the Headmaster responded to his letters. He was once again knelt before his master, greasy hair plastered to his skull and neck with sweat and his light robe clinging unpleasantly to his body as a result of both the summer heat and the temperature within the Dark Lord's potions laboratory. He kept his eyes lowered deferentially, gaze fixed upon the expensive boots of Voldemort, noticing in his peripheral vision a second set of boots set slightly behind the powerful wizard.

 

He drew breath and finally answered the question he'd been asked. `No my Lord. I regret to inform you that my only knowledge of the Order of the Phoenix is based upon flimsy rumour and I daresay a good half of that will be false.' Severus sighed in a good imitation of regret, mind heavy with tired frustration as he cautiously looked up to meet the gaze of his lord. `Despite Hogwarts being a hotbed of enemy resistance and recruitment my house allegiance puts me at something of a disadvantage there.'

 

`That may well be true my child, I am familiar with your plight after all.' A smirk danced across Voldemort's face, indicating he was about to tell Severus something amusing. `But remember there are more ways of learning than simply asking to have the knowledge dropped in your lap. You're a Slytherin lad; you have been blessed with intelligence, cunning and the courage to achieve your ambitions.' Dark brown eyes bored into the hollow tunnels of his junior's gaze and the observer was struck by the intimacy of the stare. Lord Voldemort's charisma was weaving a spell around the young fool before him. `You may not learn everything and I doubt you will hear of specific plans, but you can see who is favoured, who has the old fool's ear. We can nip his futile recruitment drive in the bud.'

 

Potions Master Silas Halton, once of Ravenclaw house and a potions brewer of some skill watched the pair. Lord Voldemort's pink lips drew up in a coquettish smirk and just as surely the other's expression followed, black eyes glimmering and thin lips warping upwards in a twisted imitation of amusement. It was an utterly amoral expression.

 

Voldemort bathed in the vindictive pride and glee emanating from the mind of Snape. He had played the brat perfectly, giving him a dull information-gathering assignment in such a way as to make the boy think Tom was doing him a favour and entrusting him with something important. The youth's gaze turned opaque and his eyes drifted away as he considered something.

 

Privately Snape snorted at the way these idiots tried to play him like some battered violin. They sought to stroke his ego and beguile him with child's-play tomfoolery. The so-called intelligence gathering was little more than a test, given that the sons and daughters of Deatheater families were all diligent letter writers who took great pleasure in chattering away `innocently' on all sorts of matters from quidditch to how unfair it was that the Headmaster had been paying so much attention to such and such a group of people without even recognising how well they had been working. However, he had already established his place in the Dark Lord's retinue as an able potions brewer and quick-thinking fighter who was growing ably into his powers. This new assignment could be fortuitous. Certainly if he acquitted himself ably his position within the circle would be secured trebly. These musings were overlaid with more important considerations and Severus allowed himself to carelessly think aloud.

 

`It's a pity you can't get someone into Madam Malkin's. It is astounding how much a person will chatter among themselves in front of the help, as if the tailor has no ears.' Black brows drew together and a calloused pale finger tapped at his lips thoughtfully. `The same could go for the Ministry. I know that Lucius is ably handling things there, but he is but one man. If we infested the rotting corrupt heart of that pathetic regime with our own civil servants who could keep an ear open as they prepared their reports then we could effectively disable one of our opponents.'

 

The backhand caught Snape solidly across his cheek and there was a sickening crack as he stumbled, barely keeping himself from falling. `You presume too much, impudent whelp! If I had wanted your opinion upon my spy network then I should have extracted it from you!' Lord Voldemort rarely raised his voice, but when he did the volume was staggering. `Crucio!'

 

Voldemort watched idly as the youth tried vainly to resist the curse, staying upright for a bare heartbeat before the agony knocked him to the floor in a twisting heap. Even then he did not scream, instead emitting a choking gasp as he struggled to haul air into his constricted lungs with a pitiful whining sound. Torn between admiration at the strength of will it took not to give into the spell's power and scream and fury at the child for daring to try and resist his justly meted punishment Tom kept the curse on for a good few moments before removing it. It should have been a long enough interval to teach him a lesson without causing irreparable damage to the useful underling.

 

Snape's ragged gasps for air punctuated the silence as he remained limp at his Master's feet. Voldemort contemptuously prodded the prone body with one boot toe, observing how easy it was to turn the light form and noting that the boy's robe had come loose at some point during the writhing. A pale slice of enticingly heaving chest was visible. Voldemort snapped his eyes away from the spectacle and instead turned to his potions master, who had stood observing the whole scene unobtrusively. `Take him back to Hogwarts.' He instructed, then turned on his heel and stalked out.

 

`Try not to bleed on my robes.' Halton ordered detachedly as he helped haul the twitching mess of his apprentice to his feet. `For future reference, resisting the cruciatus curse thus does tend to give one nosebleeds. Something to do with blood pressure, lactic acid, pain reactions and the standard physiological reactions to Dark Magic as I understand it.' He conjured a handkerchief and passed it over as Snape finally managed to quell the worst of his swaying. `I'll drop you off at the tunnel that leads to the statue of Gunnila the Unsightly. It's the shortest route I can think of and the staff tends to monitor the Ravenclaw areas less diligently than those of your own house for some reason.' Smug amusement danced quicksilver across his deep urbane voice.

 

Snape caught the not so subtly implied slight in that little spiel and snorted. `Am I not academic enough for you then, Silas?' He snapped without especial venom. He disliked the other potions brewer less than he disliked most and respected his gifts, although he was of the private opinion that the man's book learning outstripped his actual comparatively mediocre brewing skills.

 

`Come back and ask me when you've memorised the whole of Blumenthal's not just your favourite chapters, boy.' Halton replied without heat, pulling his apprentice nearer to apparate them both to the edge of the Hogwarts anti-apparation barriers. `And do try to develop some sort of self-preservation instincts dear boy. Here, drink.' He continued on their reappearance.

 

The painkiller dampened the fire dancing along Severus' nerves and enabled him to sleep, dreams filled with his musings and fantasies of spying. When he awoke the next day he lazily pulled a clean robe on over his pants and vest and stuffed his feet into some shoes. It was time to develop his natural talents in the field of stealth.

 

Admittedly one in such a precarious position as himself naturally developed certain abilities in not being noticed and his stealth had already been noted by several housemates who had nearly leapt out of their skins when he'd apparently appeared behind them to sneer at their pathetic homework. He chuckled internally as he slid into the shadows and strode off to his appointment.

 

Lily sighed quietly to herself, slightly irked that Severus had not yet arrived. Especially since it was he who had insisted upon this extra brewing session after he'd expressed dissatisfaction with one of her potions in their last potions lesson. She decided not to waste any more time and busied herself with setting out and preparing the potions ingredients for the mixtures she had planned to brew. If Severus did not show up then she'd do the work alone, after all the practice would do her good.

 

`Nice show of initiative there Evans.' A voice stated, too close to her left ear for comfort. Lily nearly leapt out of her skin and whirled to confront whoever it was. She was confronted by a smirking study-partner. Snape's eyes crinkled at the corners and he laughed softly in strangely innocent amusement.

 

`Don't startle me like that Severus. Imagine what might have happened if I'd been holding something volatile!' She rebuked him, wagging a finger like a nagging old maid. She humphed, then turned back to her work, ignoring the still-amused Snape.

 

`Alright. Shall we start with Oddbod's clarifying ointment then? We might as well get that one out of the way.'

 

Lily concealed a smile at that nearly invisible peace offering. Severus would never apologise if he could help it, but rearranging their previously agreed order of brewing to get the nastiest potion out of the way meant he would make time to watch her brew the mystery potion she'd found in an old notebook and had mentioned to him. Although he undoubtedly had a foul temperament he did also have a well-hidden kinder side.

 

After they had finished and tidied up in companiable silence Lily watched her fondly regarded acquaintance shuffle off with a smile. Somehow she had become accustomed to her study-partner's foibles and had learned to get along with him, falling into friendly competition with one of her few intellectual equals outside of Julian Abbot, the transfigurations whiz from Ravenclaw. As she left she failed to notice the dark shape barely visible in the shadows of the hallways that seemed to drift along matching her own pace. After she'd spoken the password of Gryffindor tower to the vigilant Fat Lady the shade seemed to detach itself from her and drift away in the direction of the Hufflepuff accommodations.

 

There are several blank pages in the back of most textbooks. They are probably intended to be used for noting down page references and the like. They are usually torn out for passing notes or making paper aeroplanes. Sometimes they become a dumping ground for unflattering comical pictures of rivals and hated teachers. Severus Snape's copy of Alten's Atlas of Magical Creatures looked like those blank pages had been torn out. This supposed gap was filled with all sorts of lists, written in Snape's tiny spidery handwriting. The tap of a certain wand to the rhythm of the Morse Code letter `V' would reveal these apparently pointless ramblings. Had anyone discovered this they might have wondered what the point was of concealing something so dull and pointless.