Anything
Bring Back the Bastard Day 30
The round hilltop is dwarfed by the surrounding craggy mountains, yet the wind lashes over it’s crest just as fiercely. Two figures are buffeted by the force. One, standing amidst his billowing silver robes, with long grey hair whipping around his face, holds his wand at the other; a dark, crouched figure who falls to his knees. The elder gentleman would have looked like a vulnerable old man except that the fierceness in his eyes, and the firmness of his stance give the impression of a staunch warrior. The younger man, in contrast, is diminished by his posture. A thin, yet imposing face is turned upwards and pleading.
‘Don’t kill me!’ He cries. His voice is taken by the wind, yet the old man appears to have heard. His stance softens ever so slightly, which the young man sees as an invitation to approach. The old man keeps his wand pointed, but his voice is calm and gentle.
‘Lord Voldemort has sent you?’ He asks.
‘No, no!’ The young man implores. ‘I am here of my own volition.’
‘If you have realised your mistake and come to beg for your life, I am afraid it is far too late for that, my boy.’ The old man somehow sounds equally gentle and menacing at the same time.
‘Not for my life… for her’s… for Lily’s.’ The young man’s face is stretched even thinner over his sharp features and strands of his long black hair are pasted across his cheeks.
‘You speak of the prophecy? The one you relayed to your master?’ The old man’s words are cutting now, and without mercy, making the young man hang his head in shame.
‘The Dark Lord believes it refers to her… to her child. He will kill her, I know he will.’
‘Would your Lord not spare her for his loyal servant?’ The old man’s rhetorical question is laced with vicious sarcasm.
‘He is without mercy. Without conscience.’
‘But if he were to spare her, and kill only the child… would you still be here Severus?’ His voice is sickeningly gentle again. The young man looks down, his shoulders sinking, but then his head snaps up.
‘Yes!’ He shouts. ‘I don’t want any of this. I never wanted to be a slave! I…’ He looks down again, not able to say the feeble excuse in his head. The disgusting truth, that murder and torture had seemed glamorous to him… that is until he saw it right in front of him. He thought he would feel powerful, being on the side of those that would wield the dark curses without hesitation. But instead he felt weak. And sick.
‘You must protect her… and the child… please.’ He begs.
‘Just Lily and the baby? Not James?’ The old man coos.
‘All of them, then… hide them all… I beg you!’
‘And what will you give me in return Severus?’
‘Anything!’ The young man offers without hesitation. His intelligent face is now stricken. All hope and care for himself utterly gone. Somewhere within he has the sense that he has just handed himself from one master to another.
But he no longer cares.
**
From The Crow Comes Home Chapter 6
