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Summary
"“But what about my faithful servant, Severus?” Voldemort removed his hand from Snape’s nape and brought it, instead, to Snape’s chin. He tilted Snape’s head back, angling it to look at Voldemort. Voldemort’s head was angled similarly, but his eyes were glued to Harry. “I confessed that I am fond of him. Need I show you my fondness, Harry? Must I prove it to you? Evidence against Dumbledore’s lies?”
Harry braced for Voldemort to rip through his mind with memories and falsehoods. He white-knuckled the cushion, clenching all over. But Voldemort just kissed Snape. Harry made a noise like he’d been punched. His vision tunnelled. That horrible panicky feeling was back. Snape’s eyes had widened sharply then snapped shut. Voldemort did not look away from Harry. It was wrong to see this—to see Voldemort kissing anyone, let alone Snape. Snape. Professor Snape. Oh, God."