Not long after Vincent left, Snape entered the Headmaster's Office with an exceedingly grim expression.
He glanced at the two teacups on the small table. "You have a guest?"
With a light wave of his hand, Dumbledore replaced one of the cups. "He has returned, as troublesome as ever."
A flicker passed through Snape's narrow black eyes. "I just came from seeing him."
The "he" they spoke of was clearly not the same person.
Dumbledore's expression grew grave. "What does he want you to do?"
"Heh—" Snape sneered as he walked over and sat at the small round table. "What do you think I can do?"
The entire Wizarding World was now focused on the newly emerged Dark Lord. Voldemort and the Death Eaters had remained quiet for so long, but they were finally about to make their move.
Dumbledore looked out the window. Behind his half-moon spectacles, his azure eyes seemed able to pierce the thick clouds and reach the stars hidden tightly away beyond them.
"How is his body?"
Fear lingered within Snape's icy gaze. "Far better than you imagined. What exactly was that resurrection ritual?"
Dumbledore pondered for a moment. "The bone of the father, the flesh of the servant, the blood of the enemy. It is a very ancient Dark Magic."
Tom Riddle Sr.'s remains represented the continuation of bloodline, Peter Pettigrew's willingly offered hand embodied loyalty and sacrifice, while Harry's blood was the core element of the entire resurrection ritual.
Snape inexplicably recalled the prophecy from fifteen years ago, that damned prophecy which had utterly changed the course of his fate.
"Severus?"
He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the fear was gone. "He wants me to prove my loyalty through action."
Dumbledore remained silent.
"And he wants the Serpent Staff in Wayne's