Blackmail

Chapter One

“Fuck! Not again! Not NOW!”

Severus’ Dark Mark flared with fire, as he was about to add the powdered fox fang to the simmering potion. He was being summoned by the Dark Lord and by the intensity of the pain; it must be for something urgent.

The smashed remains of the fox fang lay discarded on the stone floor of his workroom as the Potions Master walked over to the fireplace to inform Dumbledore of the happenings.

“Albus, I am being called. I’ll meet with you in your office upon my return.”

The words were swiftly spoken as Severus began to pull on the formal Death Eater robes.

“Very well, my boy. Be safe and gather what you can.”

Severus replied with a curt nod and the face of the headmaster disappeared from the flames.

There was one more person he would have to see before he left.

He walked through a few of his private rooms, adjusting his robe as he went, and carefully opened the door to his bedroom. There, as expected, was his lover sitting up in the huge four-poster bed waiting for him to walk into the room.

“I hope I wont be long Harry,” the dark man whispered lovingly. “Try and get some sleep while I’m gone.”

Harry, still rubbing the throbbing scar on his forehead, shuffled out of the bed and padded over to the taller man.

“Please be careful, Severus. Promise me you’ll come back.”

An almost smile crept along the Potion Master’s lips and kissed Harry on the head.

“I promise, now back into bed with you. It’s late enough as it is, and you have things to do tomorrow.”

“Yes, Severus,” Harry swaddled away with a sly smirk.

Once the elder man saw that his lover was safely wrapped back up in blankets, he stepped out of the room and over to another one of his fireplaces littered throughout his chambers.

Severus threw a handful of purple glittering flakes into the magical blue fire and said “Slytherin Castle” before walking into the glow.

*************

It turned out that the Death Eater meeting wasn’t important at all. All of them sat around munching on nibblies that house elves were serving while torturing a number of muggles. This whole get together was a waste of time as far as Severus was concerned when he could have been brewing that Anti-Aging Solution for one of his potion clients.

About three hours past before all of the provided muggles were dead and the bodies had been disposed of. Severus was just getting up from his chair, ready and thankful to leave, when Pettigrew made his way over to him, blocking all escape.

“Our Lord wishes to speak with you.”

Pettigrew leered at Severus, eyes unreadable even to the Potions Master himself.

He sidestepped Pettigrew, and as was requested, walked over to where Voldemort was seated on his jewel-encrusted throne.

“You wanted to see me, my Lord.”

Immediately Voldemort focused all of his attention on the raven-haired man, red eyes penetrating black and smirk growing from the corners of the lipless mouth.

“Yes, Severus. Come with me. We shall discuss this over a drink.”

The words were hisses, sending shivers down Severus’ spine.

Obediently, the Potions Master followed the Dark Lord down some halls and through some doors to one of the parlours in Slytherin Castle.

Voldemort clicked his skeletal fingers and a house elf popped out of thin air, holding a tray above its head with two glasses half full with amber liquid.

Once both men were holding their drinks, Voldemort raised his up in a sort of mocking gesture. “Let us drink, Severus, to new and interesting knowledge.”

Severus couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding at the way Voldemort was acting. It seemed much too normal for a dark wizard who wanted to take over the wizarding world.

With those thoughts, Severus forgot to sip to the ‘toast’ Voldemort had made, not that the other man had noticed.

The Dark Lord shot down his liquor in one mouthful, not letting his snake-like eyes leave Severus for a moment. As soon as the glass was refilled, Voldemort spoke again.

“I have recent evidence that you are indeed the spy within our midst, Severus.”

Black eyes grew wide.

*************

Back at Hogwarts and down in the dungeons where a four-poster bed stood, Harry lay tossing and turning from the effects of a particularly horrible vision.

Harry was forced to watch as muggles were tortured and Death Eaters sat around in comfy chairs acting as though it were some regular social activity. That part of the vision wasn’t that horrible as it was not a rare occurrence for Harry to see these sorts of things, it was what happened after the majority of Death Eaters had left which made this vision so utterly and truly terrible.

Severus had been privately summoned to drink with Voldemort in some twisted gesture of kindness before the evil bastard whipped out his yew wand and started cursing the Hogwarts Potions Master.

Harry was forced to watch as his love was tortured over and over with magic and other muggles means such as knives and corkscrews.

His face and body dripped blood and his black robes were shredded to pieces, barely clinging to Severus’ arms and waist. Bruises littered the pale completion of Severus’ skin in sick colours of purple and yellow. And bones jutted out, pushing at flesh from the inside, jagged edges waiting for enough force to rip through the thin layers of tissue and create more wounds.

Slowly Voldemort made his way to the semiconscious man supine on the carpet floor, and with an unnatural grace, bent down at his side. With some strange sense of kindness, the Dark Lord gently open one of Severus’ clenched fists and slipped in something that Harry was unable to see.

In a flash, the beaten body was pulled up away from the floor and disappeared with the effects of the activated Portkey.

Harry sat up in bed and tried to focus on the room, which happened to be spinning at a sickeningly fast speed. When that didn’t work, Harry some how managed to get out of bed and stumble his way to the bathroom where he proceeded to empty the content of his stomach onto the white tiled floor.

After the nauseousness subsided only one thought thrummed through Harry’s head ‘Must help Severus’.

Something from the vision told Harry that the Portkey had transported his lover back to Hogwarts. He had no idea why, but he did know that he had to get outside fast and find the man that he loved.

Harry didn’t even bother with getting dressed, he just grabbed one of Severus’ dressing gowns to throw over his black boxers he was sleeping in, shoved on some boots, and ran out of Severus’ private rooms and into the halls of Hogwarts dungeons.

That same thought, ‘must help Severus’, vibrated through Harry’s mind as he ran up stairs and around corners in his desperation to get outside.

Icy wind licked his face as he opened the door leading outside from the Entrance hall. He quickly ran over the grounds, searching through the darkness for any sign of Severus. With only the moonlight to guide him, Harry was beginning to fret over how his love was doing.

Finally, over near the edge of the Forbidden forest, Harry saw a dark lump lying on the grass. He dropped all pretences of calmness and sprinted over to Severus, seemingly unconscious.

He fell to his knees and reached out to the man face down in the grass. All worse case scenarios were flying through Harry’s head from possible permanent damage inflicted to what if Severus were dead!

With a hint of trepidation, Harry gently reached his hand out to the prostrate man and rested in on his shoulder. Then, with enough force, Harry carefully rolled him over and stared down at the damage.

Severus’ face was covered with wounds, bruises and blood, just the way he had seen it in his vision. The black eyes were closed, and even though Severus had experienced a great deal of pain, his face looked relaxed and peaceful.

But this didn’t make Harry feel any better. The lack of any sort of facial expression revealing pain increased the possibility that Severus was indeed dead, that Harry hadn’t been quick enough. That he had lost Severus forever.

Just when the tears began to creep into his green eyes, Harry focused on movement. Severus’ fingers had begun to move, flexing and curling as if to bring blood back into the veins. Harry’s own hand crept down to Severus’ and he held on with dear life. The tears did fall but with happiness and relief rather that desperation and sadness.

Harry smiled through the tears as Severus’ hand clenched back just as hard. Black eyes opened to look up at the boy breaking down at the sight before him, but the smile only grew wider. Until...

Looking into the dark orbs, Harry suddenly knew something wasn’t right. These eyes weren’t Severus’, though they were the same colour and shape, a lot was different with just the way they were looking up at the boy. No love was present and rather hate seemed to overflow with a great intensity.

The man sat up and the hand holding Harry’s gripped with an excruciating force. On instinct, Harry tried to pull away, but the action only resulted in him falling onto his arse.

By the time the apparently uninjured man smoothly got up from his position on the ground, Harry knew that this wasn’t his Severus.

Harry was pulled to his feet by the hand that still wouldn’t let go and stared up at the face at the fake blood and inflictions vanished before him. Features began to shift, hooked nose becoming shorter and wider, eyes moving further apart, lips forming a slight amount of colour and cheek bones softening.

Before Harry stood, not Severus, but another one of Voldemort’s Death Eaters who had apparently used a Polyjuice potion and a few glamour charms.

*************