Severus Snape.
He was the Potions professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and had been a Death Eater trusted by Voldemort more than a decade ago.
After Voldemort was defeated by the infant Harry Potter, he had joined Dumbledore's camp at lightning speed.
During the years Voldemort had been absent from the British wizarding world, he had remained Dumbledore's right-hand man.
Vitia quietly studied Severus's expressionless face.
One point was particularly worth pondering.
Severus Snape was also deeply trusted by Amosta Breen.
On one side stood Voldemort; on the other, Amosta and Dumbledore.
Both factions seemed confident they had secured Severus Snape's loyalty.
So which side had been mistaken?
Vitia already had her own answer, which was why she was willing to greet him.
But Severus did not seem to sense the goodwill Vitia had extended.
His eyes were hollow and cold. Without saying a word, he merely nodded, then headed toward the dining room.
The moment he pushed open the door, countless gazes turned toward him at once.
Vitia could feel that most of the eyes fixed on her face were filled with interest, though some held undisguised hatred.
That hateful gaze did not come from Voldemort himself, but from a woman seated near the front of the row to Voldemort's right.
Bellatrix Lestrange.
A crazed woman who worshipped Voldemort fanatically.
Vitia knew perfectly well why this woman looked at her with such hostility. The reason was laughable, so she had never bothered responding.
"Ah, my dear Severus, you always make a habit of arriving last. Is it to create a little dramatic surprise?"
At the head of the elegantly furnished long table, Voldemort, draped in a loose black robe, flared his narrow nostrils slightly and smiled lazily and coldly.
A few snickers rose from both sides