“Very well, Severus,” Voldemort said indulgently. “I will send Potter and his Mudblood cur to you, before I kill their spawn.” He rose and stalked to where his Death Eater remained kneeling, placing a long fingered hand on Snape’s head. “You have served me well this night my faithful one. I will not forget.”
“Thank you, my lord. I am loyal only to you.” Snape murmured.
Voldemort returned to his throne and waved a negligent hand. “Wait two days, and then confess your sins and remorse to that fool Dumbledore. He will try to redeem you by convincing you to spy for him. Agree. You will become as usueful to him as you are to me. Await my next command.”
“Yes, my lord.” Snape breathed, his heart racing. This would be his first major assignment from his lord. He would not – could not – fail.
“A gift, Severus, for your service.” The cold voice rolled through his mind, just before the stunned, unconscious body of James Potter appeared at Snape’s feet. The newly hired Potions master snarled and kicked the body away from him. He hexed Potter with various little irritations, turning his hair orange and green, breaking his glasses, and making him look disfigured as a circus freak.
But when it came time to deliver the final blow and actually kill the helpless man in front of him, he hesitated.
“Damn it!” he cursed, because he knew why he couldn’t kill the arrogant Gryffindor. Snape owed him a life debt. In saving his life from the werewolf Lupin, Potter had inadvertently sparked a life debt that Magic had chosen to honor. “Very well, Potter.” He sneered. “I can’t kill you outright, but I can still make sure that you never darken my doorstep ever again. Obliviate!”
He ruthlessly blocked the other wizard’s memories of Lily, his son, and being a wizard or ever possessing magic at all. Finished, he disguised himself with a glamor charm, disillusioned the body and took him to the Ministry’s dirty little secret: Avalon Hospice and Muggle Care.
“This Muggle got caught in the crossfire between two dueling wizards; he has been Obliviated, among other things. I have orders that he’s to be set up in the special long term wing.” He informed the bored looking attendant at the front desk, flashing what looked like an Auror’s standard ID and badge.
The attendant’s expression didn’t change as he found and thrust a clipboard at Snape. “Fill this out, and leave him there.” He intoned, gesturing lazily at a nearby gurney.
Snape raised a sardonic brow, not expecting it to be quite so easy, but inwardly shrugged and filled out the paperwork, appealing to his dark brand of humor by putting Remus Lupin down as the contact, should Potter ever wake up. Not that there was much chance of that; the ‘special’ ward was for victims whom were too badly disfigured to be recognized, or had been hit with some combination of spells that made the chances of them waking up on their own slim to none. In a final stroke of maliciousness, he had increased the odds of his hated rival never waking by dosing him with a vial of Draught of Living Death. The liquid antidote required very specific ingredients and a Potions Master such as himself to brew. There was technically another way to wake Potter up, but the odds of that happening were slim to none, and therefore not even a consideration.