He sat and stared morosely at the innocuous little bottle and thin
needle. His hands shook with the effort of staying away from the two small
objects that were currently the focus of his entire being - a bloody hand
trampled into the dirt - For some unfathomable reason, he had made a short
detour down Nockturn Alley and into his old stomping grounds and had
purchased the heroin and syringe as if the last fifteen - stretchy gooiness
of congealing blood - years hadn't occurred.
No, you know why you did it. A muscle twitched in his jaw and he licked his lips. You still want it. Fuck your control. The stress of his role as a double agent compounded with the summer holiday's dearth of distractions left him with little to do but wait anxiously for a summons from the Dark lord.
A bead of sweat rolled down his hooked nose and hung for a moment before falling to the table. He winced at the almost inaudible 'blip' as it splattered - drip, drip, drip, good job, Son, now try it again, with feeling... No! Shut up! Go away, you're dead!
He hitched a breath as his hand shifted almost of its own accord and touched the thin glass cylinder of the syringe. His gut contracted and his already shallow breathing quickened as he picked it up - damn you, boy! It's just a bloody animal! - The thin metal spike glinted in the firelight and vibrated with the shaking of his hand.
A sudden green flare in the fireplace - silent death - made him drop the syringe to the desk, where it rolled with a clink against the small brown glass bottle of milky heroin. He grabbed both and shoved them into a drawer just as Remus Lupin's head appeared in the fireplace.
"Severus, Dumbledore wants you to come to the Order meeting, since you didn't show up to the one last week." Lupin's soft voice was barely audible over the pounding blood in Snape's ears. He channeled his mounting frustration into a black glare.
"And the esteemed Headmaster sent his dear little pet werewolf to deliver the message. How sweet." He shot Lupin an arrogant glare before deliberately turning his back on him.
"Oh, come on, Severus. You never leave your dungeons down there. Come and get some sun." His head disappeared momentarily before popping back with a cheerful grin. "'The Headmaster says that's a direct order."
"Oh my, then I must obey, mustn't I?" His eyes narrowed. "Move over, Lupin."
*********
He stepped out of the fireplace and into the busy kitchen of Grimmauld Place. The sudden change in temperature made him momentarily dizzy and he almost stumbled into Lupin.
"Get your paws off of me!" he snarled into the werewolf's face before stepping back and glaring haughtily about as he brushed the soot from his robes. "Let's get on with this no doubt fascinating meeting," he sneered as he swept past Lupin.
A large number of the Order were presently crowded around the long kitchen table - and they lay where they had fallen, faces smashed -
The bright summer's day shown through the windows and lit Nymphadora Tonk's hair a violent shade of scarlet, forcing Snape to turn away. She stood out against Kingsley Shacklebolt's dark, solid bulk.
The Weaslys and their eldest sons were gathered around one end of the table, and as Snape exited the fireplace Mrs. Weasley stood and began bustling around, serving tea. Dumbledore nodded to Snape as if this weren't a huge waste of time, and gestured toward a chair. Ignoring the still smiling werewolf, he sat stiffly. Dumbledore began the meeting.
"Now that we are all here..." Snape began tuning out the words. His thoughts returned to the vial and needle in the drawer of his desk - what if it had cracked when he threw it into the drawer? Damn that werewolf - why was it that whenever he had a chance for a moment's peace, someone would interrupt? His thoughts continued to circle through his head, and when a hand touched his shoulder, he flinched.
"Is there a reason you feel the need to assault my shoulder?" he growled at McGonagall, who withdrew her hand and looked at him with infuriating calm.
"We were wondering what your opinion on the matter was, Severus. After asking three times, we felt that more direct methods were necessary if we were to get a response out of you." Mad Eye Moody sniggered and Snape felt his face grow hot. Was I really that out of it?
"I apologize that the scintillating conversation failed to hold my rapt attention," he sneered. "Now, would you be so kind as to repeat the question?" Moody snickered again, and Snape fought not to meet his gaze. McGonagall responded with an understanding that grated on his nerves.
"Severus, would you please inform us of any new developments on your front?" Snape couldn't help an inward smile. They knew nothing about the movements of the enemy without him.
"What I have to say is not for young ears attached to loose lips," he sneered - a dull thud, the splash of brains on a hard stone floor - He felt a small flash of triumph as the junior Order members were ushered out of the kitchen by Molly Weasley, leaving Tonks, Shacklebolt, Moody, Arthur Weasley, Lupin, and Dumbledore. All watching him. He paused to savor the moment.
"Various attacks have been planned upon low profile Ministry officials who hold the bulk of the power." He cut a glance sideways at the Weasleys. "Fudge should be kept safe by his profound incompetence and general stupidity. However, I am not yet privy to the specifics of the plans, and any information I am given is likely to be false." He ignored the stage- whispered "So, why do we keep him around...?" from Moody. Fat lot of good you do, you toothless old Auror. "Despite the not inconsiderable backing of Malfoy, I am currently under intense scrutiny regarding my loyalty." -burning melting hot hot bonefire-
Moody leant toward Lupin and whispered loudly, "I don't know anyone could mistake him for anything but a slimy Death Eater." The damned werewolf had to fight back a smile before Dumbledore and McGonnagall shot disapproving glares at the both of them. Snape could feel a muscle start to jump in his jaw.
"If you two are done whispering like children," he hissed.
Moody's electric blue mad eye swung around to rest on him and he felt the deep throb of his own dark magic glowing under its optic scrutiny. His left arm gave a sudden twitch and he broke off eye contact before it spasmed under the pain, which eased immediately when he looked away. Moody made a sound suspiciously like a giggle.
"There is little else of relevance to report." -screaming screaming molten pain- He pushed back his chair with a scrape, favoring the table with a sneer. "Now, if you'll excuse me-"
"Hold on, Snape." Moody's mangled face shoved itself back into his line of sight, and he barely suppressed a shiver. "How do we know that you're telling us everything? What proof can you give that you haven't...relapsed? Dark magic is a hard habit to break, or so I've heard..." Snape's hand involuntarily closed around the handle of his wand -the flow of power, the twitching screaming - and he felt a surge of longing for the liquid power of dark magic. No, the heroin will be enough, the heroin will be enough... don't think about dark magic.....
"What's the matter, Snape? Dark Lord got your tongue?" Moody's clawed wooden leg thumped as he stood.
"Stay back, old man, or I'll finish the job I started sixteen years ago," he whispered. "Give me a reason, and I swear I will." Without realizing it he had drawn his wand, and a surge of hatred for the twisted, faithless Auror before him crested on a wave of darkness -squirming bloody filth- forcing sparks to shoot from his wand's glowing tip.
The Auror's wand was drawn as well, and his magical eye was fixed dead on Snape's heart.
The first syllables of a curse were forming on Snape's lips like morning dew on a blade of grass and the crystalline taste of dark magic was pooling in his mouth when two strong, dark arms wrapped around his chest and lifted him from the ground, breaking the spell. The sweet taste turned bitter and Snape spat, struggling against his human bonds as a wrinkled, bony hand delicately plucked his wand from his numb grasp.
"Severus, Alastor, I'm very disappointed in you both. I had thought that a common enemy would help you two reconcile your differences, but I see that I was wrong." The dead ache of his unfulfilled need for the feel of dark magic was pierced by the sharp lance of Dumbledore's disappointment and he slumped against the arms holding him.
"Headmaster, I-"
"Severus, I would like to speak with you later, in private." Uh oh. "Please return to Hogwarts: I'll join you shortly. You may release him, Kingsley." The arms surrounding Snape loosened, and he tried to brush out the wrinkles in his robes as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Finally satisfied, he grabbed his cloak from the hook by the fireplace, snagged a handful of floo powder, and called out "Hogwarts, Potions office." As he stepped into the fire, he could dimly hear Moody telling Dumbledore to keep his pet Death Eater on a tighter leash: Snape's subsequent flash of anger was so strong that as soon as he stepped into his office he grabbed a jar off one of the shelves and dashed it against the far wall.
Desperate for a taste of what he had been denied back in the kitchen at Grimmauld place and despairing of any other release, no matter how fleeting, from the heavy weight of his life, he began frantically rummaging through his desk drawer.
*********
No, you know why you did it. A muscle twitched in his jaw and he licked his lips. You still want it. Fuck your control. The stress of his role as a double agent compounded with the summer holiday's dearth of distractions left him with little to do but wait anxiously for a summons from the Dark lord.
A bead of sweat rolled down his hooked nose and hung for a moment before falling to the table. He winced at the almost inaudible 'blip' as it splattered - drip, drip, drip, good job, Son, now try it again, with feeling... No! Shut up! Go away, you're dead!
He hitched a breath as his hand shifted almost of its own accord and touched the thin glass cylinder of the syringe. His gut contracted and his already shallow breathing quickened as he picked it up - damn you, boy! It's just a bloody animal! - The thin metal spike glinted in the firelight and vibrated with the shaking of his hand.
A sudden green flare in the fireplace - silent death - made him drop the syringe to the desk, where it rolled with a clink against the small brown glass bottle of milky heroin. He grabbed both and shoved them into a drawer just as Remus Lupin's head appeared in the fireplace.
"Severus, Dumbledore wants you to come to the Order meeting, since you didn't show up to the one last week." Lupin's soft voice was barely audible over the pounding blood in Snape's ears. He channeled his mounting frustration into a black glare.
"And the esteemed Headmaster sent his dear little pet werewolf to deliver the message. How sweet." He shot Lupin an arrogant glare before deliberately turning his back on him.
"Oh, come on, Severus. You never leave your dungeons down there. Come and get some sun." His head disappeared momentarily before popping back with a cheerful grin. "'The Headmaster says that's a direct order."
"Oh my, then I must obey, mustn't I?" His eyes narrowed. "Move over, Lupin."
*********
He stepped out of the fireplace and into the busy kitchen of Grimmauld Place. The sudden change in temperature made him momentarily dizzy and he almost stumbled into Lupin.
"Get your paws off of me!" he snarled into the werewolf's face before stepping back and glaring haughtily about as he brushed the soot from his robes. "Let's get on with this no doubt fascinating meeting," he sneered as he swept past Lupin.
A large number of the Order were presently crowded around the long kitchen table - and they lay where they had fallen, faces smashed -
The bright summer's day shown through the windows and lit Nymphadora Tonk's hair a violent shade of scarlet, forcing Snape to turn away. She stood out against Kingsley Shacklebolt's dark, solid bulk.
The Weaslys and their eldest sons were gathered around one end of the table, and as Snape exited the fireplace Mrs. Weasley stood and began bustling around, serving tea. Dumbledore nodded to Snape as if this weren't a huge waste of time, and gestured toward a chair. Ignoring the still smiling werewolf, he sat stiffly. Dumbledore began the meeting.
"Now that we are all here..." Snape began tuning out the words. His thoughts returned to the vial and needle in the drawer of his desk - what if it had cracked when he threw it into the drawer? Damn that werewolf - why was it that whenever he had a chance for a moment's peace, someone would interrupt? His thoughts continued to circle through his head, and when a hand touched his shoulder, he flinched.
"Is there a reason you feel the need to assault my shoulder?" he growled at McGonagall, who withdrew her hand and looked at him with infuriating calm.
"We were wondering what your opinion on the matter was, Severus. After asking three times, we felt that more direct methods were necessary if we were to get a response out of you." Mad Eye Moody sniggered and Snape felt his face grow hot. Was I really that out of it?
"I apologize that the scintillating conversation failed to hold my rapt attention," he sneered. "Now, would you be so kind as to repeat the question?" Moody snickered again, and Snape fought not to meet his gaze. McGonagall responded with an understanding that grated on his nerves.
"Severus, would you please inform us of any new developments on your front?" Snape couldn't help an inward smile. They knew nothing about the movements of the enemy without him.
"What I have to say is not for young ears attached to loose lips," he sneered - a dull thud, the splash of brains on a hard stone floor - He felt a small flash of triumph as the junior Order members were ushered out of the kitchen by Molly Weasley, leaving Tonks, Shacklebolt, Moody, Arthur Weasley, Lupin, and Dumbledore. All watching him. He paused to savor the moment.
"Various attacks have been planned upon low profile Ministry officials who hold the bulk of the power." He cut a glance sideways at the Weasleys. "Fudge should be kept safe by his profound incompetence and general stupidity. However, I am not yet privy to the specifics of the plans, and any information I am given is likely to be false." He ignored the stage- whispered "So, why do we keep him around...?" from Moody. Fat lot of good you do, you toothless old Auror. "Despite the not inconsiderable backing of Malfoy, I am currently under intense scrutiny regarding my loyalty." -burning melting hot hot bonefire-
Moody leant toward Lupin and whispered loudly, "I don't know anyone could mistake him for anything but a slimy Death Eater." The damned werewolf had to fight back a smile before Dumbledore and McGonnagall shot disapproving glares at the both of them. Snape could feel a muscle start to jump in his jaw.
"If you two are done whispering like children," he hissed.
Moody's electric blue mad eye swung around to rest on him and he felt the deep throb of his own dark magic glowing under its optic scrutiny. His left arm gave a sudden twitch and he broke off eye contact before it spasmed under the pain, which eased immediately when he looked away. Moody made a sound suspiciously like a giggle.
"There is little else of relevance to report." -screaming screaming molten pain- He pushed back his chair with a scrape, favoring the table with a sneer. "Now, if you'll excuse me-"
"Hold on, Snape." Moody's mangled face shoved itself back into his line of sight, and he barely suppressed a shiver. "How do we know that you're telling us everything? What proof can you give that you haven't...relapsed? Dark magic is a hard habit to break, or so I've heard..." Snape's hand involuntarily closed around the handle of his wand -the flow of power, the twitching screaming - and he felt a surge of longing for the liquid power of dark magic. No, the heroin will be enough, the heroin will be enough... don't think about dark magic.....
"What's the matter, Snape? Dark Lord got your tongue?" Moody's clawed wooden leg thumped as he stood.
"Stay back, old man, or I'll finish the job I started sixteen years ago," he whispered. "Give me a reason, and I swear I will." Without realizing it he had drawn his wand, and a surge of hatred for the twisted, faithless Auror before him crested on a wave of darkness -squirming bloody filth- forcing sparks to shoot from his wand's glowing tip.
The Auror's wand was drawn as well, and his magical eye was fixed dead on Snape's heart.
The first syllables of a curse were forming on Snape's lips like morning dew on a blade of grass and the crystalline taste of dark magic was pooling in his mouth when two strong, dark arms wrapped around his chest and lifted him from the ground, breaking the spell. The sweet taste turned bitter and Snape spat, struggling against his human bonds as a wrinkled, bony hand delicately plucked his wand from his numb grasp.
"Severus, Alastor, I'm very disappointed in you both. I had thought that a common enemy would help you two reconcile your differences, but I see that I was wrong." The dead ache of his unfulfilled need for the feel of dark magic was pierced by the sharp lance of Dumbledore's disappointment and he slumped against the arms holding him.
"Headmaster, I-"
"Severus, I would like to speak with you later, in private." Uh oh. "Please return to Hogwarts: I'll join you shortly. You may release him, Kingsley." The arms surrounding Snape loosened, and he tried to brush out the wrinkles in his robes as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Finally satisfied, he grabbed his cloak from the hook by the fireplace, snagged a handful of floo powder, and called out "Hogwarts, Potions office." As he stepped into the fire, he could dimly hear Moody telling Dumbledore to keep his pet Death Eater on a tighter leash: Snape's subsequent flash of anger was so strong that as soon as he stepped into his office he grabbed a jar off one of the shelves and dashed it against the far wall.
Desperate for a taste of what he had been denied back in the kitchen at Grimmauld place and despairing of any other release, no matter how fleeting, from the heavy weight of his life, he began frantically rummaging through his desk drawer.
*********