"Severus Snape..." Voldemort gazed wistfully at the dazzling silver world behind Snape. His voice held a hint of surprise and admiration despite himself. "A subordinate in whom I once placed such high hopes, only to see him end up a sorry sack of misery. At last, I can see a little of his former brilliance again..."
Old Voldy was such a proud man. For him to have taught Snape his Flight Charm in its entirety, Snape must have been incredibly gifted and brilliant for Voldemort to think so highly of him back then.
Yet someone he had valued so much later fell headlong into this so-called 'love' and made a wreck of himself. Voldemort had truly looked down on Snape from the bottom of his heart. For a time, he had even thought he must have been blind to believe that finding a subordinate like Snape was like striking gold.
It had also made Voldemort all the more certain that he had been right to erase 'love' completely from his soul.
Look at what 'love' did. It could strip away all a person's brilliance, turn someone of boundless potential into a small, shadowy figure with a haggard face, living a fate worse than death. It was simply not worth having.
But now, as Voldemort felt the instinctive terror surging through his Boggart body as though it had encountered its natural enemy, his expression grew solemn.
He slowly raised the Wand in his hand. "I have decided to grant you death!"
Snape adopted the standard stance for a wizard's duel, his expression complex. Behind him, the silver light surged and shifted. The forest wrought from that radiance seemed to draw nearer and grow larger, while the silver path slowly advanced. The swaying Veil deep in the woods seemed closer, clearer.
As