He weaved between trees, delighting in the feel of wind in his face again, and was struck by surprise when he suddenly was no longer in the air, supported by sleek wood, and moving unerringly forward, but instead, in the air, unsupported, and falling down, crashing onto dried yellow grass. He was no longer surrounded by trees but a circle of robed and masked men. Twelve of them, a quick count revealed, as he pushed himself up into a kneeling position and looked around. Not counting Voldemort who stood directly in front of him with crossed arms and a smile Severus wasn't sure he wanted to correctly interpret.

"Sssseverussss."

All thoughts of broomsticks and flying were gone as if they had never been. "My lord!" Severus exclaimed, channelling all his relief at being away from Fletcher and proud determination that he felt at being allowed to resume his spying mission into the salutation. His face was still unmasked, so he let the genuine emotions show. And his face was Severus's so he felt little anger or disgust at his present company. All that belonged to Matty now. And Matty was a pile of pillows in a Hospital Wing bed.

Though Severus was rather of the opinion this had happened three hours previously, Matty was, at that moment, getting ushered into the Hospital wing with great fanfare and moaning, but the young spy didn't really care about that twist of time at the moment.

At the moment, what Severus cared about, was Voldemort's approach. Long, dry fingers lifted his chin and he met the eerie red gaze again. This time, he did not try to break away. This time, he did not show defiance or fear. This time, he met the glowing red orbs with confidence. "I am yours, my lord," he told him without even being asked. He had, after all, spent over two weeks convincing his Severus face that this was true. Fletcher and the rest of the school had been very helpful in this pursuit.

The dark lord's engimatic smile turned almost . . . pleased. That creepy feeling from their last meeting began to stir again. "You have been long away from ussss, Sssseverussss."

"The auror, my lord, was always hovering. I got away as soon as I could."

"You had help, yesss?"

It was obvious that he knew something of the escape plan. Well, if the girl hadn't wanted to get mixed up with Voldemort, she shouldn't have gotten involved. Her grandmother had probably already mentioned her name, anyway. "Yes, my lord. Katryna Tragyl. She has been most cooperative."

The fingers that still held up his chin were withdrawn and the dark lord began to circle him. Severus was reminded of a vulture, but surpressed the chill that slid down his spine. "Sssshe will be rewarded. Ssssshe has returned to usss what Gideon hasss lossst." Severus's attention was drawn to a break in the circle of Death Eaters as the cloaked figures fidgited minutely and looked toward the spot. The stomach acids in his gut sudddenly became several times more potent, and he wondered why they weren't burning out and through his robes. Nott had said there were thirteen Death Eaters in the Inner Circle. Only twelve were now present. An empty spot drew attention at his name.

Nott was almost certainly dead. Because Severus had pulled a disappearing act on him. I killed a man, Severus thought wildly, his face turning pasty white. Conflicting thoughts rose in response to this, nearly overwhelming him. No, Voldemort did. - He's just sick and couldn't make it today. - Of course I did, I'm a Death Eater now. - He was nice to me. - Just a bad dream, Severus. This is just a bad dream. - I didn't do it. It wasn't me. - He was a Death Eater. A bad guy. - I really am a traitor. - Harry, help me. - Nobody was supposed to die. - Bury it, fool! Pay attention!

The last thought was sharp and sudden, snapping him back to the present, his mind obeying the orders swiftly and automatically.

Voldemort was studying him with an amused smile on his thin, inhuman lips. "Foolissssh child," he said, almost fondly. Severus found it somewhat disturbing that his subconscious and the dark lord gave him the same insult. Dry fingers turned Severus's head as if inspecting an interesting piece of art he was considering buying. "But you ssssshall learn, my Sssseverussss."

"I will, my lord" Severus promised, completely truthfully and earnestly. He would learn. Curses. Voldemort's plans. Dark potions. Voldemort's habits and patterns. Dark rituals. Voldemort's followers and allies: their numbers and names. Voldemort's skills: what he could do and how he did it. Everything.

The dark lord laughed, that dry, unnatural sound. Severus ignored the chill it gave him, and returned a smile, meeting cruel red eyes. "Teach me, my lord."

The majority of the other Death Eaters had left. Only the one called Wormtail, Severus, and Voldemort remained. "Again."

Severus pointed his wand at the unfortunate cat the dark lord had found for 'practice'. "Crucio!"

"Hold it." Severus maintained the spell, doing his very best to remain impassive in stance and expression. To show neither his discomfort nor his waning endurance.

"Hold it." Sweat appeared on the boy's brow, and he fought to surpress the rising bile at the animal's torture. Such awful howls, yowls, and screeches should come from nothing living.

"Hold it." His ebony wand began to shake, just a little, under the strain of the advanced spell. Not enough to affect the spell though, thank Merlin. He dared not make a mistake in front of him.

"Hold it." The tortured noises of the cat decreased, then stopped completely. Severus lowered his wand, and wiped at the sweat threatening to drip into his eyes.

"Excccellent, my Sssseverusss." Severus grinned with the pleasure of a teacher's approval, the pride overpowering the guilt. It was a very difficult spell to hold through the victim's death. Voldemort made a sharp gesture towards Wormtail. "Sssee that it isss dead, Pettigrew."

Severus froze, pride, fear, guilt, cat, spell, exhaustion, and Voldemort forgotten. His eyes jumped toward the entirely forgetable Death Eater, bent down beside the dead animal, searching for signs of life. Severus's gaze sought identifying features, compared to his outdated memory, subtracted years, and still had difficulty seeing one of his former nemeses. The cat was in better condition. Not what he expected of a golden Gryffindor. A relative, maybe? "Pettigrew?" he repeated in disbelief, "Surely not Peter." Peter sat next to Remus, in Potions, and they talked in whispers the entire class, melting their caulron because they were too busy laughing to pay it proper heed.

"Pathetic, isss he not?"

Pettigrew flinched, but only gave his verdict on the cat, "D-dead, my l-lord."

Severus frowned, but not because of the beast's death. "He was a Gryffindor, my lord," Severus said in honest confusion. Peter wasn't supposed to be here. Peter was supposed to have a witch, two point five children, and an owl. Gryffindors didn't go in for world domination plots. And Peter, especially, didn't have the disposition for it.

That dry laugh came from Voldemort again. "You will learn, my Sssseverusss, that ssssometimesss, even a Gryffindor may be of ussse."

Severus looked doubtful. "I suppose you'll next tell me there are Hufflepuffs among the Death Eaters."

Another laugh. "A few, my Sssseverusss. They are loyal." And the red gaze sharpened on him, remindingly, warningly. The message was clearly recieved. His first twelve years had not yet been completely forgiven for the deeds of his last twenty. Those betrayals would be even less easily forgotten.

Severus swallowed. "I will not make Professor Snape's mistakes, my lord."

The red gaze held his for far longer than he was comfortable with. "No, you will not." There was a pause long enough to make Severus believe he had finished speaking on that subject, but then the dark lord added, "I will sssee to that." The warm sweat still dripping down his back from his previous exertions turned abruptly cold.

Thin lips, more grey than pink, drew into a smile, and the menace of the Wizarding and Muggle Worlds came near enough to lay hands upon Severus' shoulders. Severus looked up into his red eyes, and was more than disturbed to find proud fondness there. His father had looked at him in the same way occassionally. Not often, but when he did, Severus felt like the world had suddenly been given to him. He was terrified to recognize a similar pleasure rising in response to the familiar look from entirely the wrong face.

"My Ssseverusss," Voldemort said, the words changing in Severus's brain, morphing into my ssson. More frightening still, it was still Voldemort's voice he heard. "You are ssscared, and uncccertain, but you will learn your true loyaltiesss."

"They are with you, my lord," he answered immediately, though panic swirled in his gut and his mind, as the implications of those words became clear. And the bloody wizard was completely right.

"Ssssmall Sssseverusss," Voldermort said, sounding amused, "You are a liar."

Terror swallowed him whole, completely impossible to hide, not from a blind bat, certainly not from that penetrating red gaze. The hands on his shoulders drew him against the dark lord, and he felt arms wrap around him in a hug that had little to do with affection or warmth. He began to shake. Long, dry fingers stroked through his hair, and the hissing voice spoke into his ear, "Cry, my Ssseverusss, I do not intend to kill you yet."

It was a poor excuse for a conforting reassurance, but with Harry and Uncle Albus much too far away to be of use, he held onto the dark lord and shook until the tremours of fear left him. He did not cry. When he recovered, he pulled away. "My apologies. I will not show such weakness again, my lord."

Again his finger crooked under Severus's chin, upturning his face. "Dry eyes, good. But do not make promises you cannot keep, my Sssseverusss." The finger left his chin, and applied gentle pressure behind his shoulder, turning him toward Wormtail. "My faithful ssservant has disssappointed me, my Sssseveruss. You will punisssh him for me."

"What?" the word popped out as little better than a yelp.

"A cat isss hardly a challenge, child."

He meant for Severus to cast the Cruciatus curse on a man. On Peter. Who was shaking in as much terror as Severus had just recovered from. A former enemy, he told himself, raising his wand. A Death Eater, now. A current enemy. He opened his mouth. A miserable excuse for life, a creature more than a man, now. He stilled his racing pulse. Probably had a hand in Harry's parents' death. James Bloody Potter and Lily the Odd One Evans. He concentrated. He cost me forty points from Slytherin for blaming me for one of his stupid pranks. He drew magic through the wand. I'm sorry. "Crucio!

It was different. With a man. Pettigrew crumpled to the ground and writhed in the dirt and grime on the floor. His screams split the room, far worse than the cat's. Through the link of the spell, he could almost sense exactly how far he could push before madness took the mind.

"Hold it." Voldemort's voice instructed as his hand clasped Severus's shoulder again. His energy already flagging, he instinctively drew strength and magic from that source. The hand released him as if burnt. "Sstop." Severus released the spell instantly. Pettigrews whimpers continued as background noise, but Severus's eyes widened in alarm at the intensity of the dark lord's gaze, as he was spun around to face him again. "What did you jusst do?"

"The Cruciatus curse, my lord" Severus answered, secretly amazed and pleased his voice didn't shake or stutter.

"To me, boy. What did you do to me?"

Severus paled, and wet his suddenly parched lips. He had stolen magic from the the most infamous wizard alive. "I." Black eyes sought his footing in the red gaze. No anger, just surprise, and something that might have been wonder. Which was more than a little disconcerting. But Voldemort wasn't mad, at any rate. He calmed, just a little. "Borrowed magic, I guess, from you."

"Borrowed magic," the dark lord repeated, sounding just a bit, well, if it was anyone but Lord Voldemort, Severus would have called it stunned. He decided on 'bemused' instead. "How? Can you reverse the process to give as well as take?"

"I don't know, sir. I . . . never did it before. That I noticed, anyway."

Voldemort laughed again. Severus wasn't sure if the sound had changed or his own perceptions had, but it didn't sound as awful this time. "Child, you are a wonder. It isss good you are mine, elssse I would need to kill you. Come, I will ssshow you your room. Tomorrow, we ssshall ssstudy your unique talent." He stepped over the still twitching Pettigrew on his way toward the forboding manor at the top of the hill.

Severus was led through several corridors and up a case of stairs, into a medium sized room. There were no windows. "Apperation barriers and anti-location wards protect the entire property," Voldemort said. "You will not be kidnapped again here." Severus swallowed and nodded. "Go in and rest. There are books for your entertainment if you find it too early yet to sleep. Dinner will be in three hours."

Severus entered, feeling as though he were stepping into cell, a very comfortable cell, yes, but a cell. Voldemort closed the door, and Severus counted to twenty before trying to open it. Locked, as he expected. The three forms of unlocking charms he knew failed to open it as well. Still, he took down one of the books and used a severing charm to remove one of the blank pages at the end. He doubted Voldemort would actually search his person, and it would be good to have a message ready to send to the Headmaster should the opportunity arise.

Unfortunately, no quill or ink was anywhere in evidence in the room.

He searched his school robes and produced a broken quill. Good enough. Ink. Well, there was always . . . He closed his eyes and cast another severing charm. He collected the blood pooling at the base of his left hand into the quill's perfectly functional nub, and began to write, accidently smearing blood on the margins where his held it steady.

Dear Katryna,

There was a difference between not expecting a search for incrimating documents and inviting one. Severus was not stupid.

Thank you for the loan of you broom. Since it did not make it to my destination with me, I expect it to lay in the forest, just outside the Apparation boundry. My first day away from Hogwarts

Severus refilled the quill from the still bleeding cut on his hand.

has been eventful. I met Peter Pettigrew again, he was an old acquaintance of mine from my first school days. He does not look well at all. I think this life disagrees with him. The man I came to see has treated me surprisingly well, given the Professor's past deed, and what he believes of my own loyalties. I think he sees me as a sort of pet project. He trusts me not at all, but he indulges me with his personal attention. I have been given quarters in the same manor where he stays. Fletcher will never find me here!

The clean cut had closed, and Severus cast the charm to open it again, wincing a little at the pain, but continued his letter.

I am uncertain to whether I will be allowed to send you this letter, since my lord keeps close tabs on me, and locks me in a windowless room when I am not with him personally. With luck, I will find a sparrow to deliver it while he is distracted sometime. However, while I practiced spells he taught me today, I saw no animals at all except for a cat that Peter found a few blocks away and brought for our use. I fear the cat is no longer available for delivery purposes.

Hating to waste his blood like this, Severus scratched out the last line. Dumbledore wouldn't want to know that.

Well, I just wanted to thank you again for your help. I hope you didn't get into any trouble because of me. Give Matty a firecracker in his potion for me, when he gets better. Though, I doubt that will be for a few more weeks, if not months. I'll try to keep in touch. Yours,
Severus