~Severus Snape POV~
My servants, as you all know, Severus has informed me of the Prophecy concerning the Potter boy. With these new threats, I have generated a plan for an unlikely weapon. Tonight, I will need a vial of every death eater’s blood. We will gather at my preferred graveyard.
I shivered as his voice rung through my head. The word "Potter" provoked visions of James's and his friends ridiculous taunting and mischief, sending a wave of sickening rage through my thin body. An unsettling feeling had remained hovering over my very soul since the day I knew of the dark Lord's plans to kill... her... Lily.
My heart lurched violently at even the internal mention of her name. Scarlet hair, emerald green eyes and a heart of pure gold. I had never deserved her, anyhow, but not a soul on Earth could possibly deserve her love. If the mythical creatures Angels existed, then they would be the only soul pure enough for dear Lily.
I breathed deep and awaited Dumbledore's arrival. Traitor that I was, I had never felt more honourable than at these meetings with Dumbledore. Though I knew that he did not forgive me, his trust was enough to satisfy my conscience. And one deal had kept me loyal to Dumbledore, the protection of the Potter's, namely Lily.
For those it pained me to even think of the shaggy haired man holding my beloved Lily Evans, I wished her nothing but happiness, even if it meant the destruction of my own. I knew that she had forgotten me, for it had been so long, but I would never, ever forget Lily.
"Severus, what is the news?" questioned Dumbledore, his resonating voice sending a sharp sting through my body, reviving me form my thoughts.
"He has asked us, the Death Eaters, for a vial of blood." I replied, raising my eyebrows to show my own confusion.
"Than it is as I thought." he sighed, his brilliant blue eye's emanating a crestfallen emotion.
"What is it?" I questioned, consciously verging on rude.
"He has learnt of a very old magic, which he will no doubt use for evil." said Dumbledore, his eyes looking into the distance.
"This magic can produce a human," continued Dumbledore, his eye's reconnecting with mine, "It is a dark magic is has been proven to be extremely difficult. It involves a potion which is very nearly impossible to brew and can take years to have it prepared, years which he has had."
"A human? A child, you must mean?" I said, trying to clear up my confusion.
"Indeed, an infant. An infant who can be trained." uttered Dumbledore; his eye's growing fierce.
"A son. He could make himself a son, a legacy to uphold." I said, more to myself than any other.
"Severus, I suspect that he shall choose you. In this case, take my blood instead of your own. We must try to balance the child..." He said, his voice trailing off.
Later that day.
"My entrusted servants, as you well know, I have asked for a vial of blood from each of you." hissed Voldemort, skipping the stupidity of greetings.
I found myself drawn to his power and command; he knew all, it seemed. The damp graveyard surrounding us only helped to accentuate his screeching words. His voice croaked over that of the murmuring Death Eaters as he continued,
"I will be making a weapon like no other before me. A weapon that nobody, not even the great Dumbledore will be able to predict."