Chapter 22

The forest surrounding the great manor was so overgrown by trees that the sun could hardly penetrate the canopy. It was hauntingly quiet, not even the sound of birds, insects, or even the wind through the branches. Soft, menacing silence.

That is, until a loud bang broke the peace, and Severus Snape took his first steps towards the great house. Snape knew why the Dark Lord had come here to this house in particular. It was punishment. A show of his superiority to all his followers. A reminder that he could take whatever they had, whenever he wanted. Lucius Malfoy just happened to be the latest follower to be reminded of it.

Malfoy Manor was a sprawling mansion, three stories in height. Snape had never seen the entirety of the manor, but knew that the dungeons were very well equipped for Lucius' favorite past time, which was only ever whispered, but Snape knew to be fact. Lucius had a penchant for torture, and young men.

Snape wrinkled his long nose at the disgusting thought. He knew that Narcissa allowed her husband to partake in his addiction as it kept Lucius from turning his attentions to her. Malfoy was a cruel man, and his child was following in his father's path. Thankfully, Draco had proven to be fairly incompetent, and to Snape's knowledge, preferred girls

Snape reached the tall iron gates, and rolled up his left sleeve, pressing his forearm to the wrought iron. His Dark Mark burned for a moment as the wards recognized him. He could feel the magic shimmer, and with a sad creak, the iron gates opened to admit him.

Once inside the manor, it would amaze a person how different it was from the forest that surrounded it. There were hedges shaped into magical creatures, and a wondrous fountain set in the center of the gardens. Wild peacocks wandered aimlessly about the grounds. Snape felt disgusted by himself as he looked around. Years ago he'd coveted all of Malfoy's wealth, but now he hated the idea of what a corrupting influence it all was.

Snape shook his head. He had to keep his mind clear. One moment of distraction would undo everything. He had to remain focused. His life hung in the balance now.

He knocked upon the great front door and awaited to be allowed entrance. He did not have to wait long before the door was opened. He entered into the foyer, where he was greeted by a very tall, hulk of a man.

"Yaxley." Snape said by way of greeting.

"He's been waiting for ya." Yaxley grumbled, pointing down the hall behind him. "Best not to keep him waiting."

Snape didn't stay to catch up with the other Death Eater, but quickly made his way to the study where the Dark Lord awaited him. The lights were low, most of it coming from the fire in the grate. All the windows had been covered so no sunlight could get in.

A very large leather chair had been placed in the very center of the room facing the fireplace. Snape entered the study from behind the great leather chair. He had only just opened the door when that sinister cold voice floated through into Snape's spine, causing him to involuntarily shiver.

"Come in, Severus. It has been too long since we have spoken. I am sure you have much to tell me."

Snape hung his head in respect and slowly came around to the front of the chair to kneel before his master. He remained in his respectful position until Lord Voldemort ordered him to speak.

"Albus Dumbledore is nearing his end, my Lord. You will soon have no one who would even dare challenge you." He said, keeping his eyes on the floor.

"Indeed. And yet, Harry Potter remains. The entire magical world is looking at him as a savior. I must show them all that he is nothing but a coward. A child who has been lucky. I will crucify the child and his body will hang in the my Ministry for all to see."

"Once the old fool is dead, you shall have him. He will have no one who will be able to protect him. If my lord will allow it, I will bring the boy to you myself." Snape said evenly.

"No. I have begun plans that will end with Potter coming to me. He cares very much for his friends, and that is his greatest weakness. A weakness I plan to exploit."

"How will you do this?" Snape asked, his eyes still cast upon the floor.

"It is not for you to know, my friend. Not yet. You must remain at Hogwarts until the old fool is dead at last. I want to know the instant the life leaves his body."

"As you wish, my Lord."

"There is another matter on which I wish to speak to you. Draco Malfoy returned from imprisonment. He told of how you tried to interfere with the mission I gave to him."

"I was only offering my assistance to the boy. I only wished to see him accomplish the task you set for him." Snape said a bit hesitantly.

"You care for the boy?" Voldemort looked on his servant with a air of distaste.

"No, my Lord. I only wanted your plan to succeed. The boy was being careless, and arrogant. It was how he got caught." Snape clarified for his master.

"Like his father. He tells me that he was about to be taken by Aurors when something took him to the house of the Blacks, though he cannot tell me where it is."

"I sent him there." Snape lied. "I could not risk everything unraveling. I wanted to tell you myself, but I dare not leave my post."

Silence fell, and Snape waited for whatever might happen, while the Dark Lord considered the matter. His long skeletal fingers tapped on the arm of the great leather chair. Snape could feel the fire warming his back, and his knees began to tremble from kneeling for so long, yet he remained as motionless as possible.

"Again, you have proven very wise in your actions. No doubt if the boy had been captured, he would have told them everything. He's a coward, just like his father. Aurors would have no doubt used Veritaserum, and all would have been spoiled. You have done well. But I wonder why you did not send him here?" Voldemort's red eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, daring his servant to meet his eyes.

"I had to convince Dumbledore to help me. I told him I believed the boy could be saved and that if he let the Aurors take him, he would have no chance for redemption." Snape said smoothly, keeping his eyes downcast. "The old fool believed me and sent his phoenix to take Draco someplace safe. I was not told of where he was taken, though I guessed it would have been the old headquarters for Dumbledore's resistance."

Voldemort threw his head back in laughter. Snape took a chance and looked up slightly to see the Dark Lord cackling madly.

"You are a slippery one, Severus. Dumbledore continues to prove how weak he is by believing every person can be saved. Very well, we are concluded. I should think you'd like to use the potions lab to make more of your poison for the old fool?"

"If it pleases my lord." Snape bowed lower.

"Very well. I would like it if you should see me before you return to Hogwarts." Voldemort grinned maliciously.

Keeping his eyes cast to the floor, Snape rose and left his master. Once he was outside of the door, he let out a breath he'd been holding. The easy part was now over. Giving false reports on the Order had become increasingly easy, as the Dark Lord's arrogance grew. Lord Voldemort truly believed he was unstoppable now, and if Snape, and Potter could not finish this, he would be right.

Snape began making his way deeper into the house. He had three people to search out who might have hidden away the Dark Lord's last Horcrux. Snape planned to find out if any of those three knew where it might be. Two of them would be easy, the last, Snape shuddered at the thought of the sickly pale face and dark ringed eyes, would be more…difficult.

Snape entered the large dining hall of Malfoy Manor and found several Death Eaters going over plans, and partaking of Lucius rather extravagant collection of wines. Snape had a brief moment of humor as he thought of what Lucius would do when he learned all his wines had been consumed by the rabble.

"Mulciber." Snape called out to one of the closest Death Eaters.

"Ah, Severus. Have time for a drink?" Mulciber grinned showing his yellowed teeth, as he poured a large goblet and handed it to Snape.

"I'm looking for Dolohov. Have you seen him?"

"Possibly in the dungeons. He's been ordered to persuade Ollivander to our cause." Mulciber chuckled drunkenly.

Snape took a long sip of the wine, delighting in its sweet bouquet, before setting the goblet down and leaving the rest of the Death Eaters to their various tasks. He knew the way to the dungeons by heart, having been shown down there many times by Lucius who loved to show off his trinkets.

Snape encountered no one else, which was not surprising. Many of the others were setting up things for The master's big offensive. Lots of his people were in their positions gathering more and more information. Snape knew that there was a man set to assassinate the new Minister of Magic, a man who was very close to the Minister.

All that could change, and much of it hinged on what Snape intended to do today.

Snape heard the screams of the prisoners. Some were being tortured for information, others just for sport. Snape didn't care to think about it. It made him sick to his stomach as he remembered the innocent people that he himself had tortured, and killed. Every time he thought of their faces, he saw Lily, angry and disgusted.

He quickly found the cell he was looking for, just as Dolohov was leaving it.

"Severus. What are you doing here?" Dolohov said disgustedly. "I can smell the stink of Dumbledore on you from here."

"Antonin, we go through this every time we see each other. As I have repeatedly told you, the master requests I stay at my post. You would never question Bellatrix if it were her in my position, would you?"

Snape's barb made the bigger man grimace, and touch his chest. Snape knew that Dolohov still carried a serious scar from something Bellatrix had done to him. Something that had involved a very sharp knife.

"Why are you here?" Dolohov spat.

"I'm looking for something, and I think you might be able to help me." Snape said smoothly. With a flash of black cloak, Snape had whipped out his wand and rendered the bigger man paralyzed. Snape smiled softly to himself, glad that he was quite gifted with non verbal spell casting. The petrificus totalus spell would lock Dolohov's body, while still keeping him awake and lucid, which is what Snape needed.

Dolohov had thankfully fallen on his back. Snape knew he'd have had serious trouble rolling the large hulk of a man over if he'd fallen forward. Snape quickly went to the man's side and cast Legilemency , searching Dolohov's mind for any memory of being asked to hide something for their master.

Dolohov's mind was a virtual house of horrors. Snape saw things that would haunt him for the rest of his time on this world. Things he'd never known had happened. The things Dolohov had done made Snape seem like a choir boy in comparison. Snape wanted to end the man's life. To punish him for the disgusting crimes that Dolohov had reveled in. Murders, kidnappings, torture, and other things better left unspoken.

But he'd never been asked to hide, move or lose anything precious, or otherwise. No, Dolohov was simply a weapon of terror, used like a surgeon's tool by the Dark Lord.

Snape stood up, feeling dirty. He quickly obliviated the man's memory and then revived him, and helped him up.

"Wha happened?" Dolohov asked groggily.

"How long were you using the cruciatous on Ollivander?" Snape asked.

"Hour, maybe." Dolohov said stupidly as he rubbed his head.

"You must be more careful. You're not as young as you once were." Snape sneered. I think it best that you get food and rest. I should think our master would be quite upset to learn his best soldier not up to snuff when he's ready to push his campaign."

"I don't need your help, Severus! I can manage just fine on my own." Dolohov said as he violently ripped his arm out of Snape's grasp. Snape knew he'd gotten to the larger man. Egos were such frail things. Dolohov, while angry, did look concerned.

"So it would seem. You never answered my question."

Dolohov turned around to cast a malicious eye to Snape. "What question?"

"I asked you, before you fell into a heap on the floor, if you knew where I might find Nott, or dear Bella?" Snape said coldly.

"Nott is out of the country. Meeting some suppliers. The Dark Lord wants more dragon blood. The bitch is somewhere upstairs." Dolohov motioned with his head towards the ceiling. "Now, excuse me."

Snape watched the bigger man stumble off. He knew that Dolohov hated him, but he would most likely do as Snape had suggested.

But he could no concern himself with Dolohov. Nott was out of his reach, and it only left Bellatrix LeStrange, the one he was least looking forward to talking with. Snape and Bella had been competing for their master's favor for years. Voldemort enjoyed their shows of loyalty and had always pitted them against each other.

Snape took a deep breath and headed towards the stairs to face Bellatrix.

Bellatrix LeStrange had once been a stunningly beautiful woman. She had once possessed a body many women would have killed for, with high proud breasts, and long slender legs. Her lips were pouted slightly and her eyes were bright and hypnotic. She had always been dressed in the most decadent gowns and robes.

Everywhere she went, heads turned to watch her. She had been highly sought after for marriage. Rudolphus LeStrange had given nearly everything to secure her hand, and in the end had to allow Bellatrix her to scratch her perpetual itch. No one man could satisfy her appetites, and it was widely rumored she liked pain.

Those men who survived an evening with Bellatrix carried their scars proudly. Then she had joined the Death Eaters, and her appetite grew. She was allowed to flourish and encouraged to refine her new art. Bella went mad long before she was sent to prison.

Now, she was a mere shell of the woman she had once been. Her hair, which had once been shiny and well coifed hung in limp mats in her face. The robes that had once accentuated her curves hung loose on her shoulders. Her eyes, once so bright and inviting were now dark sinister orbs staring out of her gaunt, pale, bony face.

Bellatrix was quite mad. She had not suffered like most in Azkaban. She had troublingly few horrendous memories that the dementors could make her relive. She had been comforted by the pain she had inflicted on all those poor souls.

Today she sat staring out of a window in her private room within Malfoy manor. She had not been called to her master's side, and so she sat, patiently waiting for his orders, imagining the pleasures he could bequeath her with.

A knock on her door broke her from her twisted thoughts, and she arose to find out who had disturbed her.

"Severus." She said flatly as she gazed at the pitiful excuse for a wizard.

"Bella. I have to speak to you." Snape said with distaste. It was no secret among the Death eaters that Bellatrix and Snape were constantly vying for position in the Dark Lord's court. Voldemort took great pleasure in pitting the two against each other.

"I see you managed not to die. I thought for sure when young Draco showed up that you had failed, and died."

"I held up my part of the vow. Draco is safe, and Dumbledore is dying. The spirit of the vow was fulfilled. You should have been more specific in what you asked." Snape countered.

"I suppose. Why have you come?" Bellatrix asked as she moved away from her rival. Snape entered the chambers and shut the door behind him. He had to move fast, as Bella was a formidable dueler. If he allowed her the chance to defend herself, he would never get the information he sought.

He had kept his wand in his hand, hidden just out of her sight as they spoke. Now that he was in her room, Snape didn't hesitate. With amazing speed, Snape had paralyzed the woman, and caught her before she hit the floor. Snape didn't want to take a chance that someone might hear her body fall, and come investigate.

He rolled her onto her back, and was unsurprised to find her eyes in narrowed contempt.

"Do not fear, my dear Bellatrix. When this is finished, you won't remember a thing. LEGILIMENS!"

Snape was bombarded with fragmented images. Bella's mind was a cacophony of broken memories. Nothing made sense to him as he sifted through the woman's mind. At fit he thought she might be trying to fight against his invasion with Occlumency shields, but soon figured out that this was just how her mind now worked.

Snape struggled to find any clues that might lead him to the final Horcrux. He knew that it had to be the golden cup of Helga Hufflepuff, as it was the only object that remained.

Snape was about to give up, as Bella's mind was to torn to find anything coherent, when a flash of the cup came to the forefront of her troubled mind. He could hear her resistance within as he examined the memory closer.

Snape knew it was something she'd hidden, by the way she seem to be struggling to push him out now, but her mind was so broken, it offered little resistance to his probing.

He saw Bella taking cup from her master lovingly, and cradling it against her once full bosom. She promised to hide it carefully, and never reveal it's whereabouts. She had followed his orders to the letter, and taken it to her vault at Gringotts and placed it high atop a shelf in a place of honor.

Snape pulled out of her mind and saw that her face, still frozen by his spell, looked a bit more menacing somehow. He knew she wanted to kill him. To stab him with her favorite knife and bathe in his blood for what he'd done. Snape simply shook his head.

"As I told you, lovely Bellatrix. You won't remember a thing."

He raised his wand, preparing to erase her memory, when the door opened suddenly.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Draco Malfoy stood in the doorway, looking quite bitter. He was unshaven, though it was hardly noticeable on his smooth pallid face. His normally slicked back hair was a unkempt mop now, and he looked very tired.

"You sent me to that house to be watched over by that drunk." Draco pointed an accusing finger at his former head of house.

"I saved your life you thankless little ponce!" Snape gritted his teeth. He was in trouble, and had to move fast.

"What are you doing to my aunt?" Draco asked, coming nearer. Snape silently thanked Narcissa for drinking during her pregnancy, as Draco still hadn't pulled his wand. Snape sprung on the boy, sending him sprawling into a chair, and falling backwards.

Things could still be salvaged, Snape knew. He quickly alleviated both Draco's and Bella's minds. Then he took Draco's wand and fired a stunning spell at the woman. He then took Bella's wand and repeated the spell on Draco. He then quickly left the room and headed back down to the dungeons where the potion lab had been set up.

Snape had no intention of being anywhere near Bellatrix's room when they awoke. To anyone who might find them, it would appear they had stunned each other. Though he doubted anyone might look deeper, Snape did not wish to take the chance. Nor did he trust himself to remain with either of the two.

He had long wished to kill Bellatrix LeStrange himself. When he had been concerned with his standing with the Dark lord, he dreamt of killing her, just to solidify his position among the faithful. However, when he'd become disillusioned with it all, he simply wanted to kill the woman for what she represented.

No, it was not the time to rid the world of Bellatrix LeStrange. Her time would come, as would young Malfoy's, but it was not today.

Snape quickly found his way to the potion lab, hidden in the dungeons, where he began mixing several potions. He'd become quite talented in making certain concoctions looking and smelling as if they were something else. It was difficult, but after years of brewing, and a need for deception, Snape had all but mastered it.

As the mixtures bubbled and boiled, Snape set about his next task. He had to destroy Nagini, the snake. Even more challenging, he had to set up someone else to take the fall for it. Snape had no difficulty in deciding who would best fit the role. Peter Pettigrew owed Harry potter a life debt. He was a simpering coward of a man and Snape would have no trouble in coercing the man to do his bidding. All he had to do was summon the animagus to him.

Peter Pettigrew had grown sour in his allegiance to the Dark Lord. It had been him who had found the Dark Lord, and cared for him for a year until the ritual could be performed to return the Dark Lord to power. It had been him, Peter Pettigrew who had sacrificed his own hand to help bring his master back. Peter, who had given up the location of his friend, James Potter to his master. Had he not shown his loyalty? His faithfulness?

Yet he had become nothing more than a joke among his peers. A rube. Someone sent to fetch wine and food. Never was he allowed to accompany the raids, or find and capture foes of his master.

He'd become little more than a house elf, and it was slowly driving him mad.

For all his loyalty, he was shown almost no respect. His nights were filled with restless sleep, and dreams of the friends he'd betrayed, all because he felt he deserved more. He had believed he would be rewarded by The Dark Lord for his faith, his devotion to the Dark Lord's cause. But he had to show for it all was a silver hand that constantly itched, yet could never be scratched. A constant reminder of his poor choices.

And still he persisted in his attempts to earn favor. He did everything without complaint, no matter how demeaning. He tried to show his unyielding devotion no matter how many times Lord Voldemort and the others spat on him.

So it was that he reported to the potions lab upon Severus Snape's summons. Here was one who might allow him to advance. If he could prove himself useful to one of the Dark Lord's most favored, than perhaps Snape might recommend to the master to allow Peter to prove himself. To be allowed to join the inner circle.

"You sent for me?" Pettigrew sniveled as he entered the dimly lit potions lab.

Suddenly Peter was overcome with a rapturous kind of joy. He felt relaxed, Brave, and determined. He stood a bit taller as he turned on his heel and stormed out of the lab, clutching the long fang in his hand tightly. He couldn't remember where he'd gotten I, nor did he care. He simply had to thrust it into the cursed snake's skull. He had to show everyone that he had destroyed that foul beast.

He knew that the snake rested during the day, preferring to curl up near the fire in he kitchens where she might strike out at any rats brave enough to show themselves, and to soak up the heat from the blazing fire where the House elves cooked. Nagini had other hiding spots as well, but it seemed likely she would be there.

He nearly ran to the kitchens, startling the few elves as he slammed opened the door, seeking out the cursed serpent. He was angry to see she was not laying in her usual spot. It was likely she had gotten scared by all the clattering and clanging going on as the elves prepared the feast.

He would have to seek out the snake. He had to kill it. He had to show them all what he could do. Then it would be him at the Dark Lord's side.

Peter knew the snake would be close by. It never ventured to far from her master. Also, she could not sneak through the many rat holes in the walls, as she was far to big. She would have to travel along the floors, hugging the walls as she moved.

So Peter hunted her. He kept his fat fingers coiled tightly around the mysterious fang, not bothering to wonder how he'd come by it. There would be time for that later, after he'd taken care of the snake.

He avoided everyone, unsure of why, but keeping to himself as he moved throughout the spacious manor. And then it occurred to him to check the greenhouses. It was the perfect place for a snake to rest. It was warm, and humid. It was also devoid of activity at this time. No doubt the snake would curl up and rest in there.

And so Peter set off to find the beast. He trudged out of the house and opened the greenhouse door, feeling the wall of heat upon his face, and starting to sweat almost right away. He shut the door behind him, and took out his wand. He warded the small greenhouse to prevent the snake from slipping through his grasp.

She was there, laying atop a workbench piled with various pots and a large unopened bag of dragon fertilizer. She eyed him as he approached, not fearing the stout balding man. She had smelled his fear many times, and knew that one day he would be a meal for her. No, she simply watch the approaching man with indifference.

Peter felt his heart hammering in his chest as he clutched the fang even tighter and slipped it from his pocket, edging ever closer to the serpent. His eyes never wavered, nor did he feel any fear as he raised the fang high over his head.

Peter Pettigrew felt euphoria as he drove the fang deep into the Snake's skull. He tore it out and drove it into the beast's head over and over, laughing hysterically as he did. He was inexplicably thrown to the ground and he had to cover his ears as a terrifying scream echoed around the greenhouse, eventually shattering the glass.

When it all stopped, Peter rose to his feet, staring at the dead serpent, with the large ghastly fang sticking out of it's mangled head. The feelings of determination and boldness melted away, being replaced by dread.

"What did I do?" He asked of no one. He had committed a terrible, unforgivable act, and the master would have his head. He had to leave. He had to flee for his life. The Dark Lord would be merciless.

Peter turned to leave, and escape, but was met by two large men, Yaxley and Nott, who had just returned from abroad. They both stared at the nervous looking man who was now emerging from the shattered greenhouse. Peter's eyes darted between the two men and the vast expanse of lawn between him and the forest beyond. If he could make it there, he could change his form and never be found. If he could only make it…

"Stop him!" Yaxley shouted as Peter tried to dart away. Nott wasted no time in stunning and binding the coward.

"I do not envy him." Yaxley whispered as he surveyed the mutilated snake.

"How dare you, Wormtail. Have I not shown you kindness? Have I not shown you mercy? Have I not been a benevolent lord?" Voldemort bellowed.

Peter had been taken, along with the mangled remains of Voldemort's familiar into the great dinning hall. There others had gather to watch as the Dark Lord was told of Peter's treachery. Voldemort had tortured the fat man several times, screaming in rage at the betrayal.

Snape had stood back, witnessing it all, feeling a little sick at what he had wrought on the traitor. Though it had to be done this way, Snape still felt disheartened at the entire thing. Were it not for Dumbledore and his manipulations, perhaps Pettigrew could have live out the remainder of his life in prison.

"I gave your life meaning, Wormtail." Voldemort hissed. "Why would you betray me in this way?"

Snape knew he was going to regret his next move, but it had to be done. It need to be finished, and he had to return to Hogwarts.

"My lord." Snape called out. "If I may suggest a theory. Potter saved his life. Perhaps our little rat simply felt it was the only way to repay that debt."

The Dark Lord did not look at Snape, but kept his evil red eyes on the shivering mass of flesh at his feet.

"Is it true? Did you feel indebted to the boy? Did you feel your loyalty being split? Then you should have taken your own life! AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Peter Pettigrew never cried out. He was unable to roll out of the way. He simply died at the feet of the man he'd tried so hard to prove himself to. He died a coward, friendless, and alone, just as he'd been for nearly seventeen years.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you." Voldemort pointed his wand at each of the gathered in turn. "I do not tolerate failure, and I will most certainly punish those who even think of betraying me. This offense is unforgivable."

Every Death Eater shivered as those sinister red eyes gazed upon them. Voldemort's fury was palpable in the very air. Never had any of them seen their master this angry, this livid. He'd been relentless in his torment of Pettigrew. He'd bitten off his own tongue very early on, and every time he'd opened his mouth to scream, he vomited blood.

It had been one of the most disturbing things to witness, even for the most sadistic of them. Even Dolohov had to turn away at one point. Only Bellatrix watched the entirety of the event, here chest heaving in ecstasy as she bore witness to her master's fury.

"Everyone out of my sight, NOW!" Voldemort cried out. When they had all gone, he sat heavily in the nearest chair. This had not been random. Wormtail had sought out his precious one. He had hunted Nagini. Perhaps if he had not allowed the snake to torment the man, she would still be alive, still protecting him from death.

No, He was not at fault. Pettigrew was angry. He was like a spoiled child seeking attention. But why had he killed his precious familiar. What gain would there be. Surely he would be aware of the fate that would await him?

"Someone made him do it." Voldemort reasoned. "I have a traitor in my midst. But who would dare? And why go after Nagini? Unless they know. How could they? I've covered my tracks, killed any who knew. There is no way anyone could no. I must find out. I must learn if all my Horcruxes are safe. I can not let them be found. I will seek them out and hide them again. It must happen soon."

Voldemort rose from his seat, and went back to the study. He had plans to make. He would not be undone. Not when he was so close to accomplishing his lifelong ambition. He was so close to ruling over all, and refashioning the magical world in his image of greatness, and not even death was going to stop him.