For the Love of Hufflepuff
Part One: Death Eaters, Inc.

by Christina Teresa

Chapter Two: The Woman in White

It had been almost a year since Snape had joined the Death Eaters and the novelty was wearing thin. He had joined Voldemort's movement because he thought the Dark Lord was concerned with the purity of the wizarding race, but all he seemed interested in was murder. Muggles, wizards, witches- they were all targets of the Dark Lord's wrath. This wasn't what Snape wanted, but there was no way out. He belonged to Voldemort, body and soul.

The only bright spot in all this darkness was that he had been able to avoid killing again since his Burning Ritual, at least directly. Rather than have Severus join the Death Eaters on their frequent killing raids, Voldemort demanded he make poisons sure to cause the maximum amount of pain and torment. Snape feared Voldemort suspected his growing dissatisfaction. He was certain that was why he was where he was tonight.

Snape and his former professor, Rupert Balin, were at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Henry Chitterlow. Mr. Chitterlow was an Auror, therefore a sworn enemy of Lord Voldemort. As Balin dealt with the Auror, Snape held his wife in a Body-Bind Curse. She watched, still and silent, as Balin twisted her husband's limbs from their sockets. Blood dripped from Chitterlow's nose and mouth.

Snape had heard that Balin's skill with the Cruciatus Curse was surpassed only by Voldemort's. Balin rarely had need of the Killing Curse because his victims invariably expired under the unbearable torture. Henry Chitterlow was no exception.

As he watched the Auror die a sickening death, Snape knew what was coming. He would have to torture and kill his wife. And why not? What was this thing inside him that caused him to hesitate? Why couldn't he be more like Balin? His former professor relished it, why couldn't he? What's wrong with me? Severus was grateful for the mask he wore.

When Chitterlow's body finally stopped twitching, Balin lowered his wand and turned to Snape. "Go on, boy. Make me proud."

As soon as Snape released the woman from the Body-Bind Curse, she rushed, hysterical, to her dead husband's side. With a determined expression on his face, he raised his wand. "Crucio!"

Mrs. Chitterlow let go of her husband's lifeless body as the Cruciatus Curse took hold of her. She screamed as her body bent backward painfully. Snape felt a rush of power flow through him when he heard the sound of her bones snapping. He was just beginning to enjoy himself when he felt someone's hand on his shoulder. He whipped his head around and saw the Muggle woman he had killed during his Burning Ritual. The woman in her starched white uniform and crisp white cap gazed at Snape silently and shook her head.

Severus lowered his wand in shock. Mrs. Chitterlow dropped to the floor, still writhing in agony.

"What in the hell is wrong with you? Why did you stop?"

Snape turned to Balin. "Don't you see her?" When he turned back, the Muggle woman was gone.

Balin's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Don't tell me you've lost your nerve, Severus. I would so hate to tell the Dark Lord your heart's not in it anymore."

The vision of the woman in white couldn't have been a ghost. If so, Balin would have seen her too. His mind was just playing tricks on him. "My heart is as dark as yours," Snape replied as he once again aimed his wand at the quivering Mrs. Chitterlow. He made his former professor very proud indeed.

Later that night when he was finally alone in his room, Severus spent an hour in the toilet vomiting. When his stomach settled down, he swallowed a double dose of Dreamless Draught and drifted off to sleep. In spite of his precautions, he dreamt.

*

Severus found himself in a hospital ward that stretched as far as he could see. He recognized the place as St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Most of the people occupying the hundreds of beds were strangers, but the few familiar faces he saw told him that all of the patients were victims of Lord Voldemort. Muggles were mixed in with wizards and witches. Tending them all was the woman in white, rushing from bed to bed offering comfort and cups of tea. One old man-- a wizard named Aloysius Oddbody, who had been particularly outspoken against Voldemort-- took the woman's hand and kissed it gratefully.

Snape marched up to her. "What do you want from me?"

She glanced at him briefly then finished fixing a cup of tea for Oddbody. "This lovely gentleman's been telling me the most amazing things about wizards and magic being for real. Who would have thought?" The woman rose and faced Snape. "I'll tell you one thing though, I don't like that 'Muggle' business. It's insulting. Your kind says it like we don't matter."

Snape wasn't about to allow this creature to control his life or his dreams. He looked down on her disdainfully. "But you don't matter, Muggle."

She angrily put her hands on her hips. "Right."

Suddenly he felt an invisible force wrench his left arm behind his back. The pain forced him to his knees.

"From now on you will address me either as Miss Robbins or Sister, is that understood?"

"Understood," he sneered, "Miss Robbins." He was suddenly released and he rose to his feet.

She smiled cheerfully. "Good. Now, make yourself useful." She shoved a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits in his hands. "Deliver these to the lady in bed 406."

"I most certainly will not!" He considered throwing the plate and cup to the floor, but a warning glance from Miss Robbins made him reluctantly obey her order. With a sigh, he traversed the ward in search of bed 406. When he finally found it, he saw that the bed was occupied by Mrs. Henry Chitterlow. At first she didn't see him because she was talking quietly with her husband lying in the next bed. Snape just stood there, tea and biscuits in his hands, desperately wishing he were somewhere else.

Mrs. Chitterlow finally looked up and smiled at Snape. She doesn't recognize me! He then remembered that he had been masked when he sadistically tortured and killed her. There was no way for her to know who he was. Relieved, he placed the plate and cup on the table beside the bed and started to walk away when Mrs. Chitterlow took his hand.

"How very kind of you," she said, "what a nice young man you are."

Snape felt his stomach lurch. He was afraid he was going to be sick again. He mumbled something unintelligible and rushed away. Miss Robbins appeared and blocked his way.

She shook her head. "That's a bad combination, that is."

"What is?"

"Being a Dark wizard with a guilty conscience."

"I haven't got a conscience," he replied unconvincingly.

Miss Robbins grinned and wagged a finger at him. "You can't fool me. I've seen it."

He knew she was referring to that fact that he had killed her quickly at his Burning Ritual. "It wasn't conscience, just over-anxiousness. It-- you were my first killing."

"And your only before tonight. That is, if you don't count those lovely poisons you've been making for that Lord What's-His-Name of yours. Do you think you're absolved of responsibility because you didn't administer them yourself?"

Severus felt something wet and slick on his hands. He looked down and saw that they were covered with blood.

Miss Robbins regarded his hands curiously. "Murder's a dirty business."

He tried to wipe the blood on his robes, but it wouldn't come off. "Being a Mug-- a non-magical person you wouldn't understand. I can't just stop-- he'd kill me. I have no alternative but to do Voldemort's bidding."

"There are always alternatives." She took him by the hand and they were instantly transported to a darkened room.

Snape sighed heavily. What now? When his eyes adjusted he realized they were in someone's bedroom, confirmed by the sound of snoring. Miss Robbins led him to the bed and pulled back the curtains to reveal a slumbering Rupert Balin.

She smiled. "Ahhh, isn't he sweet? Sleeping like a baby with visions of dismembered sugar plum fairies dancing in his head, no doubt." Her insincere smiled faded. "Makes me wish I had a gun."

"Be quiet," Snape hissed, "you'll wake him."

She waved her hand. "He'll never know we were here."

"And why, exactly, are we here?"

"To take a little peek into your future. You wizard types are into that sort of thing, aren't you? Give me your hand."

When he didn't comply she grabbed his wrist. Severus tried to pull away, but her grip was like a vice. She forced his hand inside Balin's chest and held it there. Apparently Balin was solid, but he was not.

At first Snape's hand felt so icy cold he was afraid it would break off inside Balin's chest. Then the frigid emptiness deepened and he wished his hand would break off so he could escape. There was no hate or rage, just evil for its own sake. Balin was even less human than Voldemort.

"You told him tonight that your heart is as dark as his," Miss Robbins said as she continued to hold his hand in place effortlessly. "As you can see, you weren't even close, but the darkness is starting to nip away at the edges."

Finally, she released him and he stumbled backward. He wanted to retch.

Miss Robbins approached him. "Feeling a bit queasy are you?"

He nodded.

"Not to worry, dear," she said as she patted his hand, "just keep doing what you did tonight and soon every ounce of humanity will be sucked out of you. That sick feeling in your stomach will go away and you'll be sleeping as soundly as this evil geezer."

Suddenly, all the emotions Snape had suppressed over the last horrible year came boiling to the surface. "I WANT OUT!"

*

Severus woke up in a sweat. Disorientation was quickly replaced with panic. If Voldemort found out about his change of heart-- and he was bound to-- he'd kill him. Or worse, the Dark Lord would put the Imperius Curse on him to force him to do his will. He couldn't allow that to happen. Miss Robbins' words reverberated in his mind: There are always alternatives.

He rushed to the cabinet containing his Potions supplies and mixed a deadly concoction that would kill him instantly and painlessly. Which is more mercy than the victims of my other mixtures received. At least he'd be saved from making any more.

He slowly raised the cup to his lips when he felt someone touch his arm. He turned and Miss Robbins was standing there. "This is my alternative!" he cried.

She smiled gently and shook her head. She touched her fingertip to his temple and his mind was filled with a face and a name.

Dumbledore.

Then she was gone. The goblet slipped from his hand and crashed to the floor.

***

End of Part One

Continued in Part Two...