The chamber was colder than usual, the torches along the walls sputtering as if the very air feared him. Voldemort's eyes glinted with a sharp, unreadable hunger as he circled Severus. "You have proven… intriguing, Severus," he said, his voice soft, deliberate, dangerous. "But words and theories are worthless without action. I will give you a mission. Fail me…" His smile was thin, cruel. "…and you will wish you had not learned to speak so well."
Severus inclined his head, mask of calm in place. "I shall see it done, my Lord. And I assure you, failure is… not a possibility I entertain lightly."
Voldemort's eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly, as he raised a hand. A silvery thread shimmered in the air, and images twisted within it. Severus' stomach clenched—not for himself, but for the child he had kept hidden even from Dumbledore.
A single image broke free, crystal-clear: a small boy, dark-haired and sharp-eyed, watching from the shadows of a crowded street, completely unaware.
Voldemort's gaze hardened. "This… boy," he hissed, voice low and urgent. "Tell me. Whose blood runs through him?"
Severus' throat tightened just enough to make his reply measured. "He is… merely a child of circumstance, my Lord. I assure you, nothing more than a curiosity."
"Curiosity?" Voldemort's voice was suddenly intense, possessive. His black eyes were fixed on Severus, burning with a new obsession. "I do not tolerate mysteries left unsolved… or bloodlines hidden from me. You speak of curiosity—yet this boy shares your blood."
Severus' pulse hitched, but he controlled his expression with practiced ease. "He is… of my bloodline, yes. But you are aware, my Lord, that blood alone does not dictate loyalty. Nor does it dictate destiny."
Voldemort's lips curled into a dangerous smile. "Interesting. A son. And yet… who else is involved?" His voice dropped to a whisper, almost venomous. "You will tell me nothing? Not even the identity of the other parent?"
Severus' lips curved into a faint, elegant smirk. "As you said, my Lord, curiosity can be… profitable. But some answers, like some tools, must be wielded with caution."
Voldemort's eyes glimmered with obsession, possessiveness practically radiating from him. "Profitable? Perhaps. But this… child… is yours. Mine will not overlook it." He stepped closer, the very air around him crackling with menace and intent. "I do not share what is mine. Remember that, Severus."
Severus inclined his head, unflinching, though inwardly every move had to be calculated. "Of course, my Lord. Everything… under your command."
"Good." Voldemort's voice was sharp, final. "Now, the mission. You will infiltrate the Order's supply chain. There is a shipment arriving at Hogsmeade tonight—something valuable. Intercept it. Ensure its contents reach me before anyone else can touch it. Failure…" His gaze locked on Severus, deadly and possessive, "…will not just be inconvenient."
Severus bowed slightly, his mind already spinning possibilities. "I shall attend to it, my Lord. With discretion… and efficiency."
Voldemort's eyes lingered on him a moment longer, black and calculating. "Do not disappoint me, Severus. You are… mine in ways you do not yet understand."
As the Dark Lord vanished into the shadows of his sanctum, Severus remained perfectly still, calm on the surface. Inside, however, the gears were turning at full speed. He had his orders, his opportunity, and his secret. The child's life—Hadrius' life—depended on how deftly he played the game.
And Severus had never been more dangerous when forced to play.