The Return of the Dark Mark

Snape stared at the background behind the figure in the mirror.

It hadn't changed from earlier, when he'd spoken with the same figure from the castle.

And—

A "first task"?

It confirmed his fears.

Either Dumbledore was right, and Voldemort feared he'd be followed, or Snape himself was still under suspicion.

But he revealed nothing, standing quietly, awaiting orders.

"Someone will be contacting you shortly," Voldemort said softly. "They'll inform you of what needs to be done next."

"Severus, I need your cooperation with them."

Then his tone turned unusually gentle. "You look exhausted. Can you still wield your wand?"

Snape replied calmly, "I have always been able to wield my wand for my master. As long as it's not Dumbledore or Potter, no one is my match."

"You're very confident," Voldemort said, amused.

Snape didn't respond, just lifted his head slightly.

Of course he was confident.

"Don't disappoint me, Severus," Voldemort said meaningfully. He raised a hand and tapped the mirror lightly. "Go now. Swear allegiance to them. I—Lord Voldemort—have returned."

The magical connection cut off.

Snape pocketed the mirror, pondering Voldemort's use of the pronoun "they."

Not humans.

Which non-human race?

Before he could finish the thought, a goblin appeared and stood before him.

The goblin craned its neck up, barely reaching Snape's waist, but it was full of arrogant pride.

It sized Snape up, nodded, and asked, "You're the Dark Lord's servant?"

Though it was phrased as a question, there wasn't a shred of doubt in its tone.

It was sure of it.

Not only because Snape was clearly a wizard, but also because of his appearance and aura.

Unkempt hair, gaunt face, dark eye circles, and a stare that made one feel he might whip out a wand and cast the Cruciatus Curse at any moment.

A textbook dark wizard.

The goblin would wager its entire career's worth of forged items that this was one of them.

"I am. You were sent by the master?" Snape asked, bowing slightly.

Once he spoke, the goblin was even more certain.

That deep, cold, ruthless voice could only belong to a skilled dark wizard.

"Yes, by the Dark Lord," the goblin nodded. "He is your master—not ours."

"The Dark Lord and goblins are equals. We are partners. Do you understand partnership?"

It emphasized this distinction.

Snape waved a hand dismissively. "The master told me to assist you. What are we doing?"

The goblin rubbed its hands together. "Gringotts. We're taking Gringotts."

Snape blinked, staring at it in disbelief.

Was this goblin insane?

Sure, he wasn't weak—and the Aurors at the Ministry were mostly second-rate—but even so, sheer numbers could overwhelm.

Just one wizard and one goblin—to rob Gringotts?

"Don't look at me like that," the goblin said smugly. "Under the great Lord Ragnak's leadership, we are fully prepared."

"You know how powerful we are now?"

"Over three hundred goblins. Every single one—armed and armored."

"War!"

"We will declare war on wizardkind and reclaim what's rightfully ours!"

Its speech became more impassioned, waving its small arms triumphantly.

"How many goblins are joining us for this?" Snape asked.

The goblin spread its arms wide. "All of them. Every last one of us!"

"We'll take Gringotts, and hold wizard wealth in our hands."

"This is the first step toward reclaiming what is ours!"

All of them?

Over three hundred goblins?

Snape's eyes flashed with concern.

He hadn't realized the goblins still had this kind of force.

"When do we move?" he asked.

The goblin didn't hesitate. "Now."

"Now?" Snape said darkly. "I need to prepare."

He had to find a way to pass this information on—at the very least, Dumbledore needed to be warned.

"No." The goblin shook its head. "The Dark Lord said you'd bring what we needed. Do you have it?"

Snape nodded.

"Then that's enough," the goblin said.

Snape frowned, ready to argue—hoping to buy time, some excuse to slip away and send word.

But the goblin was growing impatient. "Don't waste time!"

"We've waited long enough. If not for the Dark Lord's repeated instructions, we wouldn't have held back this long."

"Wizard!"

"This is the Dark Lord's order—your master's command. Obey us."

Snape nodded, waved his hand over his robes, conjuring a large hood to conceal his face.

The goblin scoffed and grabbed Snape's hand, snapping its fingers.

Crack!

They Apparated into Diagon Alley.

A lone goblin appearing there wasn't strange. Even with a strangely dressed wizard beside him—most wizards dressed strangely anyway—Snape didn't attract much attention.

"Can you bypass the magic here?" the goblin asked as they reached Gringotts.

It wasn't referring to Gringotts' defenses—but the magic throughout Diagon Alley itself.

After Voldemort's last incursion into Gringotts, and due to rising security concerns, the Ministry had warded the area. Apparition was disabled except for designated public spots.

Snape sneered. "Don't ask such stupid questions. But it'll make a lot of noise."

"Let it!" the goblin cried excitedly. "The bigger the better—we've come for revenge!"

Snape didn't hesitate and raised his wand.

Finite Incantatem!

A burst of powerful magic exploded. BOOM! Several loud cracks and explosions echoed.

Nearby wizards gasped and fled in panic.

The goblin raised its hand and snapped its fingers.

Morsmordre!

A sickly green spell erupted from its fingertip, soared into the sky, and exploded.

A skull, a serpent, a looming shadow—

The Dark Mark.

That dreadful symbol, barely gone for more than a year, returned once again.

Even though—

The Ministry and Dumbledore had declared Voldemort dead.

Still, it returned.

Again.

Could even death not defeat him?

Snape gazed up at the mark, momentarily dazed.

BOOM BOOM BOOM—

A flurry of explosions rang out.

Fully armored goblins began Apparating in rapid succession.