Fate Set Right

Chapter 29

Severus said nothing, but copied the other Death Eaters, raising a fist in the air in a solidarity he did not feel. Their proclamations and shouts of agreement would have drowned out any that he made regardless, and his mask kept him hidden should his figurative mask fall.

His eyes darted to the pile of ash on the stone. That would be him if he made the smallest mistake. If Hermione's blood status was discovered or his own duplicity came to light, that would be what remained of his body. Nothing left to find, a mystery to those who survived him.

"Come forward, Severus," the Dark Lord called.

No! No, no, no, I don't want this. I don't want this life. I don't, I don't.

But it was too late, wasn't it? He had been played right into this position, given no choice. He was pressured until there was no escape. He had to move forward, ever forward. If he didn't, he would end up like the wizard on the altar: nothing but ash, with a family under threat. Hermione under threat.

"Severus," he said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You have wealth at your fingertips and a list of masters begging to take you. You have a pure-blood lady who wants nothing more than to be on your arm. There is nothing that I can give you that most of my loyal friends ask of me. I know you pledged your loyalty to me, but what is it you want from me in return?"

Before Severus could blink, the Dark Lord grabbed his chin and tore through his mind.

Just after the mundane day-to-day that he kept on the surface, an altered memory surfaced of his conversation with the headmaster after his return from the Manor in December.

"Miss Granger will be in good hands when you've gone. I noticed Mr. Lupin is fond of her."

"She's planning on taking her N.E.W.T.s with me."

"She can plan what she wishes, but unfortunately, she needs all of her professors and the headmaster to approve. And I can't let her out into the wizarding world before it is absolutely necessary."

The tint of murderous rage that had been Severus' near constant companion at the thought of the headmaster colored the memory vividly. There was no Moody in the memory, just a schoolboy talking to the headmaster about his girlfriend's fate. But that hatred, the utter loathing Severus felt for the twinkling old geezer was plain as day. And sadly, very real.

Voldemort ripped himself from Severus' mind with absolute glee. "We are much alike," he said with a toothy grin. "Dumbledore frequently stuck his nose where it didn't belong while I was his student as well. Will you join me, Severus, if a spot at my side means Dumbledore's torture and death?"

Whether it was the nature of his Occlumency or the fact that Severus really hated the headmaster, he found his response came easily and quickly.

"Yes, my Lord," he said with a bow.

"Then kneel."

He dropped to his knees, and without being prompted, held out his left arm, his robes sliding down to reveal the pristine skin on his arm. He could feel the approval in the air, the pride, but he ignored it. Severus focused on Hermione, on remembering that this was the best way he could protect her.

"Do you swear your eternal loyalty to me?" Riddle asked.

"I swear," Severus said automatically, thinking only of the bushy-haired girl who held his heart, whom he would do anything for.

Riddle began to speak in a foreign language. After a moment of not understanding, Severus realized it wasn't Latin. The strange language was just distracting enough that Severus was nearly physically startled by the touch of a wand to his left forearm.