Severus decided to attend the meeting at the Hog's Head after all.
If he was going to dismantle the Dark Lord's regime, he needed to know exactly where the pieces were on the board. In his original timeline, the casualty rate for his generation had been nothing short of catastrophic. Lily, Regulus Black, Lupin, Sirius, Potter, Pettigrew, Crouch Jr., Bellatrix herself... almost everyone involved in the First Wizarding War had been wiped out, on both sides.
As an adult who had survived the horrors of two wars, he refused to sit idly by. If he had been thrown back into this turbulent era, he was going to tear the timeline apart and rebuild it properly.
However, now was not the time to openly sever ties with the proto-Death Eaters. Aside from the ring buried in the ruins of the Gaunt shack and the diadem hidden in the Room of Requirement, he had no way of knowing exactly when or where the other Horcruxes would be distributed. He needed inside information.
Turning down a narrow side street past the Post Office, Severus approached a small, dilapidated pub. A battered wooden sign hung from a rusted bracket over the door, bearing the image of a severed boar's head leaking blood onto a white cloth. It creaked ominously in the summer breeze.
Severus pushed the door open. A thick shaft of dust-mote-filled sunlight split the room in two, vanishing instantly as the door swung shut behind him. His eyes quickly adjusted to the gloom.
It was a small, grimy room. The bay windows were so encrusted with filth that barely any light penetrated them, leaving the rough wooden tables illuminated only by stubs of half-melted candles. The entire pub smelled strongly of something vaguely goat-like.
Most of the patrons wore heavy cloaks with the hoods pulled up. In the darkest corner, furthest from the bar, sat a group of Hogwarts students. Avery and Mulciber were there, alongside a few younger, easily swayed purebloods like Regulus Black and Barty Crouch Jr.
Severus noted with grim satisfaction that the Muffliato charm was active around their table—a spell he had foolishly gifted to them in his previous life.
As Severus approached, the indistinct buzzing of their conversation abruptly ceased.
Holding court in the center of the group was a witch leaning lazily back in a battered armchair as if it were a throne. Even in the dim light, Bellatrix Lestrange's heavy-lidded eyes and aristocratic arrogance were unmistakable.
"What are you doing here, Snape?" she asked, her tone dripping with disdain.
"I am here for the same purpose we all are," Severus replied smoothly, taking an empty seat.
Bellatrix's lip curled into a sneer. "Are you? Mulciber tells me that you seem to prefer the company of filthy little Mudbloods over your own brethren."
"I find all filthy things entirely repulsive," Severus said, his dark eyes sliding lazily toward Mulciber and Avery. "Them included."
Bellatrix let out a sharp, cold laugh. She stood up abruptly, stalking over to Severus until she was towering over his chair, staring down at him.
"Is that right, little Severus?" she mocked, brushing a stray lock of thick, shining black hair behind her ear. "They said you drew your wand on them to protect her. Have you gone soft?"
"Hardly," Severus replied, his voice a low, dark drawl. He looked up at her, deliberately allowing a flicker of intense, hungry ambition to show in his eyes. "I simply experienced a... revelation yesterday. I realized that I had been wasting my time. Why settle for something common, when there are far superior, purer, and infinitely more powerful things in this world to admire?"
He let his gaze linger pointedly on Bellatrix's face.
She paused, her eyes narrowing as a slow, cruel smirk spread across her painted lips. "My, my... what a surprising change of tune. Do you admire me, Severus? What a pity. You are a bit late. Lucius tells me you were quite sullen that you weren't invited to my wedding to Rodolphus a few months ago."
"I merely regret that such brilliance is wasted on a brute," Severus lied seamlessly, offering a clipped, mocking laugh. "I envy his luck, if not his intellect."
"You will need to envy far more than his luck, half-blood," Bellatrix whispered dangerously. She leaned in close, her dark eyes locking onto his. "Let us see just how deep this new 'admiration' goes."
Legilimens!
The psychic strike was fast and vicious, but Severus was ready. The familiar, chilling sensation of a foreign presence diving into his mind met no resistance—because Severus deliberately let her in.
With the absolute mastery of a seasoned Occlumens, he summoned an impenetrable, invisible wall deep within his psyche, perfectly sealing away his adult memories, his knowledge of the future, and his true feelings for Lily. Above that wall, he constructed a flawless, highly volatile surface layer for Bellatrix to find.
He projected scenes like a rapid-fire film reel: the agonizing humiliation by the lake, the suffocating soap bubbles, Lily's look of pity and disgust. He fed Bellatrix the visceral, blinding rage of a teenage boy scorned. He showed her the memory of him ruthlessly cutting his own hair in the mirror. And finally, he carefully planted a dark, obsessive fascination with Bellatrix herself—an intoxicating awe of her pureblood superiority and ruthless dark magic.
"Get out!"
Severus deliberately overacted, violently shoving his chair back and stumbling away, his chest heaving. He arranged his features into a mask of humiliated fury, refusing to meet her eyes. "How dare you... how could you..."
"Quiet, Severus," Bellatrix commanded, looking immensely satisfied. She glided back to her armchair, her suspicions entirely quelled by the dark, twisted teenage mind she thought she had just uncovered.
"Take your seat. And learn to guard your filthy little thoughts," she sneered, though she looked highly amused. "Remain loyal to the Dark Lord, and you will achieve power you cannot even dream of."
She surveyed the table of students. "The Dark Lord rewards his most faithful servants. To ensure you are all prepared to serve him, we will move past your pathetic fifth-year curriculum. Today, we discuss the Unforgivable Curses."
As the hours passed, the candle stubs burned down, their flames shifting from yellow to a smoky orange. When the meeting finally concluded, Severus deliberately lingered behind as the others filed out.
"A question, Bellatrix, regarding the Dark Lord's rewards," Severus asked, carefully injecting a blend of fear and greedy ambition into his voice. "I have heard whispers that the Dark Lord bestows very... specific, highly guarded artifacts to his most trusted inner circle. Have you been granted such an honor?"
Bellatrix's posture instantly stiffened. The tips of her ears flushed a faint pink, and her voice rose a fraction of an inch in pitch. "The Dark Lord will see, in due time, that I am his most loyal and reliable servant! I will earn everything he has to offer!"
She doesn't have it, Severus realized instantly. The Hufflepuff Cup had not yet been entrusted to the Lestrange vault.
"As a daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, your loyalty is beyond question," Severus said smoothly, offering a polite, deferential bow before turning toward the door.
As he walked back to the castle, the cool evening air cleared the stench of the pub from his lungs. He would bring that madwoman down eventually. But for now, he had the information he needed.
Returning to his dormitory after dinner in the Great Hall, Severus found his newly washed laundry neatly folded at the foot of his bed.