Weft of Power, Warp of Blood: A Tapestry of Desire

Chapter Twenty – Three
Perverted Veracity

He felt as though a hook had grabbed him behind the navel and tugged him through a swirl of color and rush of wind. He closed his eyes in self-defense. Snape hated portkeys. They left him dizzy and with an uncomfortable quasi-nauseated feeling. If given the choice, he’d rather apparate to China than portkey down the street. Lugging the body prevented apparation, though; one simply couldn’t apparate with an unconscious body. He should have just killed the fucker at Fudge’s house.

Without shock, when his eyes opened he was in a darkly curtained room. Only a single candelabrum perched behind a maroon velvet- covered library chair lighted the room. Snape let Eddelson’s body fall to the floor with a thud then dropped to one knee, awaiting acknowledgement. The huge snake uncoiled from her place around Voldemort’s chair and legs to investigate the unmoving but warm body.

Voldemort lowered his Muggle newspaper with a single, raised, hairless eyebrow. He asked mildly, “Severus, is there a particular reason that Darian Eddelson is lying on my floor?”

Without looking at the Dark Lord, Snape spoke, “My Lord, whatever it is that you sent the boy to do,” he sneered at the body, “he failed.”

“How… unfortunate,” Voldemort murmured. “Stand up, Severus, you’re going to muss your robes.”

“Yes, Master,” he said. Snape did as he was ordered but remained behind the prone body. The stillness allowed him to learn more about his environment and gave his stomach time to settle. He did not look directly at the Dark Lord. Instead, he listened for sounds of others in the room. Frequently, He- Who- Must- Not- Be-Named had a flunky or two lurking in the corners. There was someone to his left, next to the concealed window, he noted.

“So I see there was a problem with young Darian’s gift?”

Snape asked “Why didn’t you tell me what you planning, my Lord? I could have assisted, instead of merely cleaning up the,” Snape kicked Eddelson in the kidney, “leavings before others came running to the rescue.”

The snake reared back from the sudden movement but continued her exploration. Her tongue flicked over Eddelson’s face and hands; she slid over his body, investigated his ears and delved under his robes, seeking heat and a snack.

Voldemort said “It was a… spur of the moment test, Severus, but I seem to have chosen the wrong person to conduct it. I do wonder though, why didn’t you bring… his target to me?

Snape replied, “I had another woman with me. Since I do have a more than casual interest in her, I couldn’t just leave her on her own in the middle of a dark garden. As it is, I had to have her walk back with Jasmine so that I could return this… thing to you without the Ministry being aware of a problem.”

Voldemort hummed noncommittally and looked toward the corner of the room where a shadow waited, bouncing on its toes expectantly, awaiting its master’s attention. “Wormtail,” he made the name sounds like a friendly caress, “please go work on the prophecy research more while Severus and I have a discussion. I would like to make it as easy as possible for Mr. Podmore to get what I want.”

“Yes, my lord. As you command,” said the paunchy man and skulked to the door. The fall of his sleeve hid the normally gleaming silver of his hand.

“Thank you, Peter. What did the owl have?”

“The goblets were delivered successfully and Malfoy had made his first contact. You will have the prophesy by the end of the month, Master,” vowed Pettigrew.

“Good.” Voldemort said. “I’m proud of you for putting the little pieces of that plan together.”

Pettigrew blushed and stammered his thanks. He lived for such praise and Voldemort knew it.

“You’re a good man and a good friend, Wormtail. I’m always so grateful that you’ve stayed loyal to me all of these years, despite these trying times.”

Pettigrew’s chest puffed up and he stood straighter. He was so overcome with the praise that he couldn’t speak. As he bowed out of the room, Snape tried not to roll his eyes at the reaction to the obvious display of Voldemort\'s first and most dangerous power – understanding a man’s weakness and needs then playing to them. The effect Voldemort had on his followers was stunning. He was a leader who subtly adapted himself to the needs of his key followers on an individual basis. To Eddelson, he was a strong leader with good ideas about pureblood wizard supremacy and a good mind for politics. To Lucius Malfoy, he was a powerful wizard and a vicious businessman with a taste for blood sports. Voldemort shaped himself into a friend to Pettigrew – albeit a very demanding, powerful friend that Pettigrew could admire and fear depending on his whimsy. Fear did will out most of the time but the illusion of friendship (and the constant terror of meeting Black and Lupin) kept Wormtail from running to Dumbledore.

Voldemort clucked at the snake, “Nagini, leave that alone.”

At his words, the snake slid her head out from Eddelson’s velvet robes and looked at Voldemort, her eyes unblinking. She flicked her tongue at him and hissed.

Voldemort hissed back then murmured, “You can have it when Severus is done, I promise. Now come back here, my feet are getting cold.”

The snake slithered back to her master and wrapped around his chair, covering his feet. She piled her coils atop each other so her head rested in Voldemort’s lap. He rested one hand just behind her head, ignoring her deadly fangs. Slowly he stroked her glossy skin, whispering to her in Parseltongue. She whispered back, her tongue caressing his wrist.

Soon, Voldemort redirected his attention back to Severus. “What happened this evening?”

“Would you care for the long story or short, Master?” Snape dared to look at Voldemort and allowed a tinge of humor to color his voice. He ignored the snake.

Voldemort looked at the still form of Eddelson and shrugged, “The long, I think, will be more interesting and I’m bored. For obvious reasons, I couldn’t attend this year’s ball. A pity, I did enjoy the sawdust chicken the year that I was with Quirrill.”

Snape laughed as he was expected to and quipped, “Being the vanquished leader of a violent movement to control the entire wizarding world does present disadvantages, Master.”

One long, skeleton-like finger tapped on the arm of Voldemort’s chair and his scarlet eyes narrowed in reaction to Snape’s impertinence. The snake hissed. He smiled at the glimmer of fear in the young man’s eyes; his canine teeth were slightly elongated into fangs. All it took with Severus was a hint of disapproval, nothing more. The boy was well trained and well behaved – he’d ensured it himself. The smile became indulgent and he shook his finger at Snape, “Severus, I want to rule the world and will let nothing stand in my way. That doesn’t make me evil. It makes me a persistent politician.”

In his relief, Snape chuckled at Voldemort’s dry humor. He had actually missed that humor during the eleven years of Voldemort’s exile. Acting on instinct and impulse, Snape said just that.

“I missed you, too, my boy,” came the pleased response. “Now, come sit here,” Voldemort pointed to an ottoman near his feet, “and tell me about the party.”

Snape hesitated, looking down at Eddelson, “What of…?”

“It will wait a few minutes. When it comes time to deal with my disappointment in Eddelson, you’ll be too busy to tell me anything.”

Accepting the filial honor of sitting at a father’s feet – though as far away from the snake as possible, Snape settled on the ottoman and gave a detailed account of the party. He discussed who had attended, what was served, even what many of the guests wore. Adding his own sardonic observations, he hoped to curry favor with the Dark Lord through humor even though he was already in a trusted position thanks to Dumbledore’s plans and his own cunning. Voldemort trusted very few of his followers absolutely, Snape had ensured that he was as trusted as a family member, just as he’d done with Dumbledore. Voldemort had molded himself into a father figure to Snape – doting, attentive and indulgent – everything that his own father had not been, as long as Severus did as instructed. He acknowledged Snape’s intelligence as his own father never had and gave him a comfortable sense of belonging and family. When they were alone, he indulged Snape’s interesting sense of humor as a reward for good service. If Snape hadn’t been terrified every second of every moment that he was in the Dark Lord’s presence, he would have appreciated the effect Voldemort’s understanding had.

“And what of young Darian’s… assignment? He offered me something very special this evening. How is it that you came across him?”

“Trying to rape my ex-wife was something that you instructed him to do?” Severus asked, remaining calm.

“He did what?” Voldemort asked, poised to pounce. His voice was cold, high-pitched and vibrating with fury.

Snape fell to the floor and cowered until Voldemort settled.

“Tell me what happened, from the beginning,” demanded Voldemort.

“Yes, my Master,” said Snape, from his knees. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as if trying to recall exactly what happened. He began speaking with his eyes still closed, he had cultivated the habit years ago; it was a minor protection against Legimancy, though by now, the Dark Lord thought nothing of Severus closing his eyes to marshal his recollections. “Malfoy had taken my assistant outside for one of his usual walks in the garden…” he began.

“Yes, yes, Malfoy is a lecher, I know this,” Voldemort interrupted.

“I did not notice when she left the ballroom, though I had been watching her rather attentively before that.”

The finger started tapping on the arm of the velvet chair again.

Snape opened his eyes and hurried up the story. “The cat asked me to fetch her, because the old man was afraid of Malfoy’s influence on her. I didn’t tell her about the danger of my influence, though,” he gave a half-quirked smile and continued on. “I went to get the girl, had a few words with Malfoy, chatted her up in the moonlight for a bit and then we heard Jasmine scream.”

Voldemort’s red eyes narrowed. He stayed silent.

“When we got to her, Eddelson was lying on the ground, Jasmine was half underneath him, with her wand out. Her dress was torn and up around her legs, her shoulder was already bruising, her hair was a mess and she was hysterical.” He took a deep breath and continued. “She said he’d attacked her, that he tore her dress and was planning on ‘taking a little goodie before bringing her to his master’ – that you’d never know. She said that he had said something about telling you that she’d put up a fight and he’d had to force her to the portkey.”

“And?”

Snape spread his hands wide, as if helplessly explaining the obvious. “She managed to defend herself. She stunned him and started yelling. I came running when I heard her, sent her back in with my lady and brought him here.” He took another deep breath. “When I found them, his robes were hiked up around his arse. I’d say that she was telling the truth. There was no one else in sight.”

“I see.” Voldemort’s high voice was cold and hard. He thought for a moment and then said, “And you sent her back to the ballroom in disarray?”

“No, the girl and I calmed her down and put her back together. I told the girl to hand her over to the old man.”

Slitted nostrils flared at the mention of Dumbledore. “I see. Did Lucius enjoy his evening?”

Used to the elaborate dance of words that Voldemort used to garner information, Snape veered away from pursuing or offering more information about Jasmine. “As far as I could see, he did, though he left after he figured out that the girl wouldn’t be succumbing this evening. He was just trying to find a new toy – he can’t keep his dick in his pants. This time he’s trying for my assistant.” Severus allowed himself a small, possessive growl. “Unfortunately for him, she’s going to be occupied this year.”

Voldemort laughed paternally but his red eyes flicked to the unconscious body, “Have you claimed her yet or is this just a goal?”

Snape answered, “For now, a goal. I want to find out more about her before I do anything permanent but I have made it clear to Malfoy that I saw her first. I trust that proximity gives me some kind of priority over him?” He raised his eyebrow in question.

“We’ll see, my boy, we’ll see.” Voldemort chuckled and said, “You two may have to fight for her favors. You know I can’t order him off of the girl without some kind of official commitment. A hope for the future just isn’t good enough.”

“As you will it, Master. She left him and came with me easily enough.” Snape considered his words carefully. “I was just beginning to explore the matter of… our relationship when we heard the scream.”

Voldemort pounced again, “Tell me again about what you saw when you encountered Darian and your ex-wife.”

Snape felt the probing fingers of Voldemort’s mind sink into his thoughts. He tried to relax, knowing Voldemort would find the truth of his words. “Eddelson was on the ground, Jasmine had her wand out – she’d obviously defended herself. She’s not a stupid woman, My Lord, she can’t be taken like that. She’s too strong and far too clever.”

“I just wanted to see if it could be done this time,” Voldemort said. It sounded like a pout. “Tell me again, how did she react?”

“She was upset to have been betrayed by an old friend and frightened.”

“And you comforted her?”

“Yes, Master. She trusts me.”

“Even though you are no longer together in any way?” Voldemort probed his mind further.

“No, Master. I am only in Hogsmeade to see my daughter, not to chat with my ex. I have found that while I do actually like the child, having a good relationship with Jasmine is rather useful way to stay a trusted member of the family.”

“What does she know of your past and present as one of my Death Eaters?”

“Only that I was a Death Eater and believes me a spy for the old man, that’s all.”

“And does she suspect where your true loyalties lie?”

“She believes me loyal to Albus Dumbledore and playing you for a fool, Master.”

He shook head, saying, “She doesn’t know you well, does she, Severus, my boy?” said Voldemort, giving Snape a paternal smile. “Now, tell me more of the time you spend with her.”

Snape flashed a smile before answering. “My lord, while I do like her, she is my ex for a reason. She’s a rather dull woman, virtuous, kind hearted, with a deplorable affection for bright colors and Muggle trousers. She’s nice – very… nice. I am simply not… nice.” He made the word sound vile. “Her only saving grace is her interesting little skill with aura manipulation and the fact that she bore my heir. For that alone, I would hate to see something unfortunate happen to her,” Snape said, as if by rote. He kept his eyes on the floor.

“Jasmine Swan is an interesting female, despite your bias – which may be because you were forced to spend several years with her when, perhaps a woman of … more exotic tastes would suit better.”

Snape gave a feral smile, “Indeed, Master. As always, you are correct. I think it’s impossible for a relative of the old man’s to be very… exotic, don’t you?”

Voldemort cackled but his eyes played over the body near the enchanted bench.

Snape waited.

“I have a personal interest in the woman, Severus, not just a … political one. I trust that you will not have a problem with this?”

Nonplussed, Snape stared at the hairless, stark white face of the Dark Lord. “Yes… I mean… no… er…. Master, what kind of interest?”

“The ‘I want to found a dynasty and she is lovely, powerful and… from a prestigious family. She will be an excellent weapon against the old man’ kind of interest,” said Voldemort dryly. “Do you have a problem with my… interest in her?” he asked again, poking deeper into Snape’s mind.

“No, Master, I had similar feelings toward her when you ordered me to go to the old man. The woman is nothing but a convenience to me, though I am quite fond of the child.” Snape’s jaw clenched and his teeth ground together over the words.

“Good. Now you needn’t worry. I’m going to convince the lady to come to me the old fashioned way – she will enjoy it. You will not need to utilize her relationship with the old man to glean your information. Instead, you can turn your attentions to another project I have for you.”

“Yes, Master?”

“You were ordered to investigate certain potions for me, do you recall?” When Severus nodded, Voldemort continued. “As noble as Wormtail’s intentions were when he restored me, he made an error during the incantation….”

Snape waited, his face blank.

“Once the prophesy is in my hands and the old man and Potter are dead, I want to start founding my dynasty. I want sons. However, because Wormtail is an imbecile,” Voldemort hissed the word – the snake lifted her head from Voldemort’s lap, “I can not do anything about that dynasty.” He stroked the snake back to her rest.

“You mean that you’re…?”

“Solve it.”

“Yes, Master,” Snape bowed. “It will take some time, though. The potions needed take several months to brew. Anything that works faster is only temporary and cannot ensure success. The long lasting potions are completely different and the first one I try may not work on you. Every man’s system is a little different and it normally takes several tries to find the proper potion.”

Voldemort spread his spider-like hands in a shrug. The fingers were far too long for his body. He pursed his thin lips together and prosaically, “Solve the problem and be rewarded. Fail and be punished.”

“Yes, Master.” Snape’s eyelids close, shuttering his calculating look.

He soothed, “I know you won’t fail me, my boy. Of course, you should ask Basilton’s girl to assist you in your research and brewing in order to spend more time with her.” His tone suggested an end to the unpleasant topic.

“Thank you, Master.” Snape tried to force his shoulders to relax. “How would you like this dealt with, my lord?” asked Severus, looking at Eddelson with disgust. “Permanently? Or would you care to let him learn a lesson from his mistake?”

“Oh, permanently, of course. As much as I hate to lose one of my Death Eaters, I can’t have him blabbing to anyone. If he’s dead, he can’t answer to an inquiry and I have no desire to see any more of my Death Eaters in Azkaban.”

“As you wish, my Lord,” said Snape, drawing his wand and standing.

Before the younger man could do anything else, Voldemort spoke again, “Severus, you’re looking a bit peaked, my boy. Would you care to work your frustrations out first?” He cast his scarlet eyes to the meat hook lodged in the ceiling.

Snape gave his lord a feral smile then bowed deeply. “My thanks for noticing, Master. I would indeed.”

Voldemort clapped his hands once; Pettigrew slid into the room to kneel.

“Wormtail, fetch Severus a glass of water. Get a glass of wine for me,” he pointed to the small wet bar in the corner.

Peter fetched the glass while the other two waited. Upon his return, Pettigrew questioned, “Would you prefer wine or whiskey, Sn…Severus?” He gave Severus a barely perceptible look of loathing.

“Wormtail, you know Severus does not drink spirits. They destroy his concentration. Now move, you’re in the way – unless you want Mr. Eddelson to bleed on your robes?”

Pettigrew scuttled out of the way, obviously envious of the relationship the two men had.

Snape bound Eddelson’s wrists with ropes that shot from his wand then hauled him to the hook lowering from the ceiling. Once his wrists were suspended from the hook, it raised, dragging the unconscious man to his tiptoes.

“Ennervate!” Snape’s spell woke Eddelson.

The man looked around groggily.

The next spell made Snape smile in sadistic glee and Darian Eddelson scream in agony.

It was several bloody hours before Snape returned to Hogwarts. Nagini started swallowing her still warm but quite dead dinner before Severus was even through the iron gates of the castle.