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Severus Snape had grown tired of skulking and hiding, tired of trying to guess what the Dark Lord's flunkies were doing. He was craving sleep; it had been two days since he had slept soundly and he was both physically and mentally exhausted.

He had Apparated to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of York, which was inhabited only by a few homeless Muggles. He climbed up several flights of stairs, and in a corner found a disgustingly filthy old mattress on the floor. Wrapping his leather jacket around himself for warmth and comfort, he'd muttered a Muggle Repelling Charm before falling into a deep slumber. In his dreams, he was back in Zelda's house; smiling with her in the sunshine, letting himself be kissed and loved by his sweet girl.

Waking was the worst part Snape thought grimly, feeling like a stray dog. He was cold, filthy, starving... and alone. He used to feel safest when he was alone, but now.... with an effort, he forced the memory of love and happiness into a tiny compartment in his mind - and then took stock of his endeavors.

The Dark Lord was back at Riddle House, with the revolting Wormtail probably dancing attendance on him. There was also Nagini, Snape thought. She was capable of scenting him from afar, and he had a healthy respect for the animal. It was fortunate, he thought, that the Dark Lord's human followers were not as intelligent and powerful. Approaching Little Hangleton had been a slightly reckless move, but after vanishing for almost an entire week, Severus attempted to learn where every player was. He had not yet discovered Bellatrix, and he wondered apprehensively why she was so difficult to find.

Snape had gone first to Knockturn Alley, where skulking was a normal way of life. He had acquired from there a cloak with a hood, and then collected as many old copies of The Daily Prophet as he could find in dustbins, and begun to read. He saw the first reports of Dumbledore's death, along with a detailed story of the funeral - complete with photographs of the ceremony - and... a white tomb.

He learnt that he was being sought 'for questioning' by Ministry Aurors, rolled his eyes and sneered. That neither worried nor surprised him. The Ministry had been no match for Dumbledore, and with the exception of Kingsley Shacklebolt, most of them were hacks. He wondered sardonically if Nymphadora Tonks would become the next DADA teacher, or be assigned the task of tracking down one Severus Snape, fugitive.

After that, he had ventured near the Malfoy Mansion, which had seemed abandoned to him when he saw it. He wondered if he should go in to check on Draco, but realized that his presence would only draw attention... and the boy's location had been carefully obscured. Snape had more faith in that portion of Dumbledore's plan than any other, at this point. He had seen no sign of Order members attempting surveillance on the Dark Lord. In fact, he wondered cynically, if they had all decided to retire after Dumbledore's death, and take lengthy holidays in distant lands.

Snape considered going to Spinner's End, to the shabby familiarity of his own house for a short time, but although few people knew its whereabouts... or that it even existed, it was too risky. He was not sure if it was day or night, but he decided to find some food - and since he could learn nothing more from a distance, realized he would soon have to make himself known to the Dark Lord. His face was expressionless as he left the dim protection of the old warehouse, covering his face with the black hood of his cloak.

Riddle House had an air of decay about it that mimicked a Dementor's effect. The entire estate reeked of despair, and the area surrounding the house had been cleared of small animals by the predator Nagini. Snape approached it slowly, testing his mind, perfecting his Occlumency, entrenching his memories of the past week into the deepest part of him... and perfecting the memories that would make his tale seem plausible.

The kitchen door of the manor was accessible through a large garden overgrown with foul-smelling weeds. It was locked, but with a flick of his wand, Snape opened it, and entered the empty kitchen. He stopped to listen for sounds of occupation, but there was complete silence, so he waited. After a while he heard familiar footsteps on the back stairs, and Snape ducked beside the doorway, a faint sneer on his face.

Peter Pettigrew opened the stairway door, and Snape grasped him by the collar - pressing the tip of his wand into his chubby cheek.

"Have you given up your occupancy of my house, Pettigrew?" asked Snape in a low voice, "I do hope that you tidied up after yourself and locked the door behind you when you left."

"Snape!" Wormtail gasped, "We thought you must be dead... the Dark Lord waited for days to see you. We had given up all hope."

"You hoped for my survival, rodent?" Snape asked sardonically. "I hope that the Dark Lord will be more sincerely pleased to see me than you are. I will see him now, and you may prepare something for me to eat. I have just traveled a long way, and I am extremely hungry."

Without waiting for a response, he started up the stairs and strode boldly to the sitting room that the Dark Lord preferred. The door was closed, and, taking a deep breath, he knocked on it.

"Who is it?" Lord Voldemort's icy voice replied.

"It is Severus Snape," he replied evenly. "May I enter?"

The door flew open and Snape walked in. He stood unmoving before Lord Voldemort, for the first time since that night in the Astronomy Tower. He thought briefly of kneeling as all of the Death Eaters did before the Dark Lord - but remembering Zelda's suggestion, decided to try a different tactic.

The Dark Lord was standing as he entered, and his red eyes gleamed coldly as he studied his newly returned servant, "Well, Severus. I have heard incredible news from others, and I expected you to return to me at once to confirm it. You have disappointed me. Why?"

"I was on my way to join you, when I met your self-proclaimed 'most loyal servant'," he replied levelly, "...Who intercepted and then attempted to murder me. I managed to survive - but it has taken me this time to recover, and return to you."

"Really?" Voldemort hissed, "And which of my most loyal followers are you speaking of? Who would dare to prevent you from reporting to me?"

Snape smiled thinly, and said, "Your precious Bellatrix did it. She attacked me, dragged me half way around the earth, and then left me to die after slicing the Mark from my arm. I vaguely recall her saying that without it my corpse would be left to rot among Muggles, so no one would know my fate," he said quietly, "I wondered if she had done it upon your orders."

The Dark Lord walked slowly in a circle around Snape - studying him, scenting him... testing the plausibility the story. The wizard did seem different, he thought, considering whether this new Snape was a danger to him or an asset. "Let me see your arm!" he demanded.

Snape was prepared for this and slipped the sleeves of the robe and his jacket off. He pulled up his sleeve and revealed the puckered skin of the scar on his forearm. He was revolted - but prepared - when Lord Voldemort put out a hideously long finger, and pressed the spot hard. Nothing happened, there was none of the burning pain of the Mark, simply the physical pressure of a cold, bony finger prodding his flesh for a moment before pulling away abruptly.

The Dark Lord hissed his displeasure. "Bellatrix did this?" he asked irritably, but he found it easy to believe. He knew why she had done it too, and was cynically amused at the thought of her insane jealousy. Perhaps it would be useful to him, that mad energy, he thought. He would certainly entertain himself at her expense, now that he knew the truth of what she had done. But here before him was an enigma. This Snape was changed... he could not tell how deep it ran. No one except Harry Potter was a danger to him, but, though Snape was quiet as always, he radiated a lack of fear that was unusual for a Death Eater, and Lord Voldemort was intrigued.

"Sit down, Severus," he ordered, his eyes glowing with mad excitement. "I do not believe I have ever been more pleased with any of my Death Eaters, who seem to fail me with distressing regularity. I have waited for a very long time to hear of the demise of Albus Dumbledore. Tell me everything."

Snape found the Dark Lord acting as a congenial host far more frightening than any other of his manifestations. Nevertheless, he sat in a dusty armchair across the fireplace from Voldemort, and began, "I was not aware that your servants had gained access to Hogwarts, because Draco Malfoy had refused to communicate with me - until Filius Flitwick came, looking for my... assistance. I stunned him and ran to the foot of the Tower, where your servants were fighting with members of the Order. Flitwick had told me that the Dark Mark was above the Tower, so I passed directly through the battle and arrived at the top. Dumbledore was there, surrounded by your servants. They were discussing what to do, who should dispatch him, instead of accomplishing the task." He paused for effect. "So I did it."

Voldemort glared at him, and said, "The task was young Malfoy's. You should not have interfered, Severus."

"So your pet werewolf informed me, but significant time had passed before I arrived on the scene. Occasionally, my Lord, I grow weary of game-playing, and wish to see something done... efficiently," Snape said delicately.

A long silence followed, by which Voldemort had intended to unnerve Snape. Remarkably, the man seemed unfazed, and so he drew his wand, pointed it - and hissed, "Legilimens!"

As the spell did its work, he saw Snape staggering, exhausted, up a hill, before collapsing and losing consciousness. He saw Bellatrix arrive. He watched as she kicked and beat Snape viciously, and then saw Snape naked and immobilized on the cold ground. He saw Bellatrix slice the Marked flesh off from his left forearm, before she blasted the bloody flesh to bits. As she kicked Snape's body into an icy stream before vanishing, he realized that, remarkable as it was, the story was true.

"I had not realized you are so vulnerable, Severus," Voldemort sneered mockingly, as icy laughter erupted from him. "Bellatrix will suffer my punishment for her impulsiveness, but she is certainly creative in her viciousness - do you not agree?"

Nagini slipped into the room before Snape could answer, rustling gently as she curled around Voldemort's chair, staring with her lidless eyes at Snape. He could tell that she was scenting him, and was grateful for the hideous filth of his warehouse bed, which effectively disguised the fact that he had not lived like an animal the entire time, he hoped. The snake hissed to her master, and Snape knew that she was speaking.

"Nagini informs me that you must have subsisted in a dustbin." Voldemort said, with a cold gleam of amusement. "I believe, from what the Prophet has been printing, that you are wanted in connection with Dumbledore's most unfortunate demise. So where will you go when you leave here, Severus? Back to your dustbin? Unfortunately, you will not be able to resume your comfortable position at Hogwarts I suppose."

"I have not had time to consider any of this, thanks to Bellatrix Lestrange." Snape replied. "I very much wish to encounter her again in the near future."

"I will deal with Bellatrix myself!" Voldemort snapped, "You seem to be getting above yourself, Snape."

"As you wish, Master," replied Snape, allowing just a hint of irritation into his voice.

"You will be needed in the near future, Snape. I will be in need of all my faithful Death Eaters as we consider how best to proceed," Voldemort said portentously. "We will meet here in three nights to begin our endeavors anew. At that time I will replace the Dark Mark on your arm and seal you anew to my service."

"I think not," Snape replied smoothly. "I believe I have given sufficient proof of my loyalty and my competence, so that there need be no further demonstration. I will of course return at the appointed time, but I shall not be marked, as are those who are weaker of wit or will."

Voldemort glared at him, red eyes glowing with fury. Suddenly he laughed coldly and said, "Why not? It will be amusing to see what my less worthy supporters will make of it. I suppose though, that you deserve a measure of recognition for your impressive accomplishment in destroying Dumbledore, the old fool. I shall grant you your request, Snape, and I will see you again on the third night from now. In the meantime," he warned, "stay far away from Bellatrix. I will deal with her."

Snape's cold black eyes met the red ones firmly, and he nodded respectfully to the Dark Lord. "I will return, My Lord." He said, and turned on his heel, business finished, or so he had thought.

"One moment," The Dark Lord hissed.

Snape turned, and saw Voldemort's wand pointed at him.

"Regrettably, you were tardy in returning, Severus. I value punctuality," he said lightly. "Crucio!"

The curse threw Severus to the floor. He felt the familiar agony, his muscles seizing and the pressure in his head, even worse than other times because of his lingering concussion. He let the pain destroy his conscious thoughts, and became merely a physical organism under attack. As the torture continued, wracking his body more deeply, he finally began to scream... and then went limp.

Severus awoke to the sound of Nagini as she circled him, and he heard Pettigrew's voice before he even opened his eyes.

"You must have upset the Dark Lord, Snape," Wormtail said delightedly, "He told me that I should come and assist you, but I had no idea I'd find you on the floor."

Severus got cautiously to his feet, trying to collect himself. "Fine, Wormtail," he replied, "...you may assist me by cleaning the floor - without magic." He pointed to the vomit on the floor, before turning his attention to magically cleaning his cloak - which had taken the brunt of the fouling. "Did you prepare food for me? I am in more need of it now than previously."

He strode from the room on secretly shaky legs, sneering at Pettigrew as he went. He glanced at the food on the counter in the kitchen, but had no real intention of eating anything in that place. He slipped out the kitchen door and Apparated back to his filthy warehouse. He needed to think where he could go to ground as a fugitive. He needed somewhere safe, somewhere that the Death Eaters - who would be bitterly envious of his 'status.' could not find him.

Bellatrix would want to murder him more than ever, he mused - when she realized that he alone was allowed to serve the Dark Lord, yet be free of the Dark Mark. In spite of his wretched physical state, he smiled sardonically, thinking of her mad rage. Perhaps he would suggest that she should acquire another one, and suggest where the Dark Lord could put it.

Becoming serious again, Severus considered various hiding places he could call home for the next few days, discarding one idea after another. He had an amusing thought, considered it carefully for shortcomings, and realized that he had thought of a perfect hiding place for the next few days.

Severus lay down on the foul old mattress, closed his eyes and stretched luxuriously. He was surrounded by filth, but felt deeply satisfied with his decision. He decided to take a short nap to rest his Crucio-shattered body, before going to ground in the most secure refuge he could ever have thought of.