Severus Snape immediately froze where he was with his head bowed, waiting for his lord to acknowledge him further.
“You may approach,” Voldemort said silkily, absently stroking the head of his familiar, a king cobra that hissed and flared his hood as Snape approached the foot of the dais and immediately bent his head, pressing his lips to the onyx ring on Voldemort’s right hand. “What news do you bring, Severus? This is not your usual night to report.”
“I apologize my lord, but it could not wait.” Snape murmured, his voice pitched for his master’s ears alone. “I was at Hogwarts and overheard a prophecy, my lord, which I believe refers to you and a boy who may be your downfall.”
“You dare!” the Dark Lord hissed. “I am immortal, Snape! I have defied death herself! Crucio!”
Snape immediately let out a tortured scream of pain as he let himself fall to the ground, writhing. He had learned the hard way that his master had no patience for stoicism, preferring to hear the cries of pain and surrender.
“I apologize, my lord!” he gasped out. “I would not have brought such minor lies if the prophecy had not also been confirmed by Albus Dumbledore. He believes it to be a true Seeing!”
The Dark Lord continued the torture for another moment, just to drive his point home, before he raised his wand. Snape collapsed, wheezing.
“Thank you for your mercy, my lord.” He managed.
“Tell me of this prophecy, Severus, that Dumbledore believes to be true.” Voldemort demanded, ignoring the groveling. “You mentioned a boy child?”
“Yes, my lord.” Snape replied, slowly moving back to his kneeling position. The Dark Lord detested weakness, but also would not tolerate anyone’s head to be higher than his. “I did not hear it all, but it spoke of a boy, born as the seventh month dies…”
Voldemort remained silent for a long moment after he had finished. “Are there any children who fit this description? Born at the end of July?”
Snape blew out a slow breath. “One, my lord. A son, born seven months ago to the blood traitor James Potter and his…Mudblood wife.”
“James Potter,” Voldemort mused thoughtfully. “A powerful pureblood wizard, despite having tainted his blood line by mating with that creature daring to call herself a witch. You and he were enemies in school.”
“Yes, my lord.” Snape gritted his teeth as his master rummaged through his mind, sifting through hated memories.
“Yet you had feelings for the Mudblood female. Do you still?”
“No, my lord.” He answered. “In fact, I would ask a boon of you for bringing this information to you.” He dared to raise his gaze to the Dark Lord’s letting him look fully into his mind this time.
Voldemort smiled. “You want Potter and the Mudblood for yourself.”
Snape returned the cold smile. “Potter and I have some unfinished business. As for the Mudblood, she will be harmless entertainment on her knees, begging for my forgiveness.” He inclined his head slightly. “While you, my lord, revile in your triumph over their devil’s spawn, thus cementing your legacy and striking another fatal blow against your enemies…and mine.”