Unlikely Beginnings

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Chapter Thirty

Snape had left early on Sunday evening, taking the train to London, and then
apparating to a small all-wizarding community in Siberia. He\'d debated
stopping for a drink, but decided against it. He took another train to the
closest he could get to the castle by transport, and he apparated to the
gates, and walked the rest of the way to the huge stone fortress. There was
no other way to get straight into the castle.

When he had felt his arm burning, he cursed to himself before stalking down
the halls to the Headmaster\'s office. As much as he hated to reveal the Dark
Mark, he rolled up his sleeve and showed Dumbledore that it was true. He had
all but whined and pleaded with the man, not wanting to go, but the old
wizard had decided otherwise for him. He\'d sneered, not even trying to hide
his anger, and had set off for this ungodly cold castle to join his fellow
Death Eaters.

His presence being known was required, and he knew there had been no point
in trying to find an excuse not to attend. All ranks were ordered to arrive
at a certain time that was instinctive to them, seeping through their veins
in a message from the Mark. Some took more time than others, depending on
where they had been or what they\'d been doing. As Snape approached the large
iron door, he pulled up his sleeve, shuddering at the cold air, and holding
up his Mark to a skull shaped indent into the metal. It glowed green for a
moment, cruelly warming his arm where it burned, before the door scraped
open over the stone\'s.

Snape stepped through, letting the door slam itself shut behind himself, and
he walked down the hall into the nearly unnavigable maze before him. After
he\'d made his way down two halls, he\'d closed his eyes, letting his senses
guide him to the room where the others were gathering. Snape frowned when he
reached the room. He was late. He hated that, though he knew he wasn\'t the
last to arrive, which made it a slight bit better.

He advanced into the room, nodding recognition and acknowledgement at
familiar faces he passed. There were three figures, two tall and one
shorter, with their hoods still over their heads, hiding their faces from
view, and when Snape passed them, he felt eerily like he was being watched.
Turning, he looked towards them; the one in the middle nodded slowly at him,
and he pursed his lips, simply staring back at them. They didn\'t quite stand
out, but there was something odd about them, as if they didn\'t quite fit in
where they stood, off to the side. He wasn\'t the only one who noticed, as no
one else chose to go too near them.

Snape finally nodded back, and directed his attention elsewhere. He wandered
through the growing crowd, speaking to a few members here and there; though
a crowd of Death Eaters aren\'t the sort of pointless mingling. It wasn\'t as
if they could sit down and have a nice pot roast for dinner, and chat about
their daily affairs. No one cared.

A few that were more closely aligned to others would stay in groups, though
the rest simply stood silent, gazing around the room, at the others. Snape
could see a few arguments even taking place between some people. All the
same, they were all waiting for Voldemort to arrive.

\"Severus,\" he heard crooned out from behind him. He only had a few seconds
to grimace before he was turned by his shoulder to face the dark beauty of
Bellatrix Lestrange. \"Do tell me, dear; how is my darling nephew?\"

Insufferable, he wanted to say, but bit his tongue. \"Bella,\" he smirked,
\"Draco continues to excel in my classes, and learns quickly in others. High
expectations of him are not misplaced; he will be a fine wizard.\" She smiled
devilishly, stroking her hand down his arm. He really hadn\'t a clue how
Draco did in his studies other than Potions, but he was quite sure if he
displeased the woman, that she\'d turn on him in a second with any number of
Unforgivable curses.

As she continued speaking, Severus\' attention was pulled over her shoulder
as he watched as the three hooded figures strode out of the room with a
purpose. No one else left the room until half past two in the morning, when
they had as mutually decided as you could in a group like this, to find
their rooms and wait until tomorrow. The Dark Lord had not arrived.

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