The Voldemort Diaries—Chapter 10 (Dealing With the Devil)

June 25, 2000

Severus' petrified, bound body landed with a light thump on the floor of the Headmaster's office, a short space from his desk. Regulus bent down to cautiously check on his friend while Lucius eased a kink out of his arm. Levitating a substantial weight over a long distance sounded a lot less effortless than it turned out to be.

Off to the other side of the desk, Phineas Nigellus Black peeked around the edge of his frame. Yes, he was right, he'd heard a disturbance—but it wasn't Snape: there were two intruders! Arms crossed, he sauntered fully into his frame to observe them more closely, when he was struck by recognition.

"I remember you!" he boomed out into the hushed room, startling the two. "You're that Malfoy boy; I'd know that hair anywhere. You've spent a good deal of time in this office. Not surprising, I suppose, considering how irresponsible and flippant children are today."

Lucius looked up at him, his expression a mingling of incredulity and distaste. His lip curling upward slightly, he replied, "I'm hardly a child. I've been out of school for twenty-five years."

"Wow, you're that old?" Regulus interjected, eyebrows shooting up.

The youth was saved from a nasty comeback or nastier smack upside the head by Phineas moaning, "Oh, goody. You brought another of the saucy little juvenile delinquents with you. How charming. If he starts to drone on about his zits or girl woes, I may slit my own throat! And believe you me, that is not an easy thing for a portrait to accomplish."

Regulus got to his feet and faced the portrait, mimicking the man by crossing his arms and retorting, "When did I become a juvenile delinquent, grandfather?"

Phineas drew back with a start, mouth faintly agape, then leaned forward to peer harder at the lad. He dug a pair of spectacles from the pocket of his robes, put them on, and exclaimed, "Regulus, it's you! I haven't seen you round Grimmauld Place lately."

"That's because I moved a long time ago." Still facing his great-great-grandfather, he motioned to the inert form at his feet. "We need help with Snape."

"Yes," Lucius chimed in, drawling. "We irresponsible boys have brought him here to look for Dumbledore. Severus has gone mad, we need some assistance."

"If he's deranged, St. Mungo's might be the place for him," said Phineas dispassionately. Honestly, didn't young people have any sense at all? He gestured to his left at the empty spot on the other wall. "That's where Albus' portrait should be. Last I saw of him, Snape was throwing a tantrum; he probably tore it down."

Malfoy and the young Black spent only a few moments searching the room before Regulus fetched the frame from where it had landed when Snape flung it away. "It's empty."

"You'd leave, too, if you were being mishandled," said Phineas, nodding to agree with himself.

While Reg set about re-hanging the frame, Lucius queried, "Would it be too much trouble for you to go find him?"

"Since you're asking nicely," Phineas responded, with only a tiny martyr-ish sigh. He walked out of his frame.

"Do you think he woke up yet?" asked Regulus, indicating Severus, who was lying on his back on the cold stones. "I hope I didn't hurt him."

No time like the present to find out. Lucius aimed his wand to reverse the Petrificus Totalus, leaving the bindings securely in place. Snape's eyes snapped open immediately, riveting Malfoy to the spot.

"Release me now, Lucius," he commanded, drawing out the 's' in a way that made Malfoy's skin crawl.

"I think not," replied Lucius, more than a little creeped out. He took a few paces backward. This was not the first time he'd heard his name spoken that way, though he'd never anticipated hearing it again. "Dumbledore will be coming soon—"

Severus laughed, a high cackle that made Lucius' heart skip a beat, then pound madly. "With friends like Dumbledore, who needs Death Eaters?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Regulus shouldered up beside the older wizard, a tad disconcerted not only at Snape's behaviour, but at Lucius' reaction. He was used to Lucius being the cool one, used to Lucius taking charge, and here Snape had obviously touched a raw nerve.

"Oh, let's take a history lesson," said Snape, locking eyes with the youth. Lucius rushed to grab the boy and whirl him away to avoid the possibility of a Legilimency connection. "Dumbledore dragged his feet for years, refusing to fight Grindelwald. How many thousands—millions, even—lost their lives because of it? Even as a Headmaster, where he ought not be able to cause much havoc, his lack of attention or caring brought more young people to Lord Voldemort than you know."

"How do you know?" challenged Reg, turning back carefully in order not to look at Severus' eyes. "Is that diary talking to you like the horcrux one? In that case, before I forget, make sure to tell him I'm the one who stole his precious locket from the cave! It ended up killing me, but it was worth it."

A hard shove from one hand of Lucius sent him reeling off balance. "Regulus, do you think this is really the time?"

"When else am I gonna get the chance to rub his face in it?" groused the youth.

"Would you like me to rub your face in the floor?" Lucius growled back.

"Spoil sport," Reg muttered under his breath. Lucius was back to his old self.

Sulking, he flung himself on top of the desk to wait for Phineas to return. When he noticed Lucius giving him a parental get-off-the-furniture glower, he merely smiled and crossed his legs, making himself as comfortable as he could with a quill jammed into his bum cheek. He wasn't going to move on general principles, pain be damned!

Lucius continued to glare until he decided he wasn't making an impression, which annoyed him immensely. Regulus was Narcissa's bratty cousin and Lucius' protégé—he was supposed to obey, for crying out loud! Fine, two could play that game. After making sure the ropes on the disturbingly-quiet Snape were tight, he rounded the desk to sit on the comfy leather swivel chair. From here, one good push would send the boy pitching forward off the desk…or he could try a subtler approach. A hint of an evil smile touched his lips. With Reg's back to him, the younger wizard didn't notice Malfoy's hand snaking forward. Lucius flicked the stem of the quill currently residing under Regulus' tush, ramming and jolting it further into Black's ass.

Regulus sat bolt upright, biting his lip to keep from yelping. Dark eyes narrowing, he twisted his head toward Lucius, who projected an air of absolute innocence. "Stop it!" snapped the lad.

"Stop what?" inquired Lucius, blond brows raised quizzically.

"You know what!"

"If I knew, I wouldn't have to ask, would I?" Malfoy crooned.

In reply, Regulus snatched the sharp quill from under his rear and threw it at Lucius, who with catlike instincts managed to duck in time to avoid the point, though a few drops of ink landed on his formerly goat-dropping-stained robes. Lucius' expression reverted from smug to extremely irritated. "Now I see why your own grandfather calls you a juvenile delinquent."

There was a rustling in the empty frame; Albus stepped into view and seated himself in the armchair. His eyes seemed less twinkly than searching, and they lit on Severus as he spoke. "Hello, Lucius. Regulus. Phineas tells me Severus has taken a turn for the worse."

"If you mean he's gone completely mental, yeah," Regulus said, still pouting a little.

"They're lying, Albus," came Snape's smooth, deep drawl that sounded every bit like the old Severus. "They attacked me, took my wand, and tied me up. I believe they intend some type of mischief." A trickle of dried blood on his temple may have attested to his version of events had he not been practically hidden on the floor, where Dumbledore had a poor view of him.

"He tried to slay me," Lucius stated, sorely tempted to kick Severus in the kidney for making him look bad. And for lying about him, and for trying to kill him…but mainly for making him look bad. "In his right mind, Severus would never do that. He also assaulted Bayly Young."

"Did he now?" At the new voice, all eyes turned to Phineas Black's portrait, where he stood beside an ancient-looking man with a monkey-like face. The second wizard, dressed in very old-fashioned robes, was the one who had spoken.

"Salazar Slytherin, how gracious of you to come visit," Dumbledore exclaimed, looking truly amazed. "I don't believe you've ever done so."

"Portraits run both ways, Dumbledore," Salazar responded levelly. "I've not noticed you ever making an effort to search me out. In fact, only Phineas and a few others bother."

"Yes, we're all anti-social," Lucius snipped impatiently. "Can we make our snide remarks later, gentlemen? We've got a serious problem here."

Salazar gazed upon Malfoy with a trace of disdain. "Impertinent one, aren't you?"

"What is it with you portraits? Have you all developed a dislike for the living?"

Dumbledore edged closer to the front of his portrait and gave a conspiratorial, apologetic shake of his head to Salazar. "I had a lot of trouble with this one when he was a student. Don't even get me started on the period when he was a Governor."

Fuming so hard he seemed fit to blow an artery, Lucius leaped up from the chair and exploded with, "One of us—that would be me—is trying to help Severus! Would the two of you care to contribute?"

Regulus wisely refrained from noting the throbbing vein on the man's temple; he'd never noticed it before, and now didn't seem like an ideal time to bring it up. "We don't know what's wrong with Snape. We were hoping you could tell us."

Phineas nudged the man next to him as he jutted his chin outward toward Severus. "I think it has something to do with those Tom Riddle diaries we've talked about. That's why I brought you here. They make him lose track of time, and lately he's been exhibiting peculiar mood swings."

"I've noticed it as well," Dumbledore confirmed. "I'm at a loss as to what causes it. If I may ask, what do you know about those diaries, Salazar?"

Slytherin made no attempt to answer Albus' question. He stood pensively regarding the scene, wholly focused on the man lying on the floor. "Move him where I can properly see him."

Once more levitating Snape, Lucius moved him around to the head of the desk and settled him on the floor in front of Regulus, who steadfastly refused to give ground. Instead, he raised up his feet to sit cross-legged on top of the desk.

In parseltongue, Slytherin said, "Severus, has Tom been communicating with you?"

To the horrified astonishment of everyone present, Snape hissed back in snake-speak, "Tell them to unhand me, Salazar."

Gasps rang out, the only sound for several long moments. When the initial shock had passed, Salazar blinked back his surprise and uttered in a—fair to say—understated manner, "Well, this is unexpected."

"Unexpected?" echoed Regulus in a voice so strained it surely would cause harm to his vocal cords. "When people start talking in snake language, that's more than 'unexpected'!"

"What does it mean?" pressed Dumbledore.

Salazar shrugged, though he assiduously avoided looking directly at anyone. "I had a theory. I thought he might understand me if I spoke parseltongue, although I didn't anticipate this. It's worse than I thought. He…the diaries have begun to take over Snape."

Albus nodded as if confirming his own theory. He'd seen it all before with Ginny Weasley. It wouldn't be so difficult to remedy this situation after all. Just to be absolutely clear for all involved, he said, "So you're saying Severus is being possessed by Tom, through the diaries."

Salazar rolled his eyes heavenward. So like a Gryffindor to jump to that conclusion! If only it were so simple! His voice heavy with an air of gloom that permeated the place like a fog, he answered gravely, "No, Albus. Tom is dead, his spirit is gone. Severus is not being possessed by Tom…..he's becoming Tom."

The silence could not have been more absolute. Not a whisper, not a breath stirred to shatter the fragile, artificial calm. Lucius and Regulus gaped like simpletons, first at Salazar, then at Snape, then back to Salazar. This was not possible. Not only was it heinously unthinkable, it smacked of incredibly nauseating and more than a little frightening. Voldemort was dead, finally defeated—and now he was being recreated, formed by taking the body of another person? No, it could not be. It COULD NOT be.

At last, overcoming his dismay, Dumbledore spoke for everyone when he croaked, "How is this conceivable?"

"There are so many ancient spells—Dark spells—that are capable of a variety of things," said Slytherin, half-smiling to himself, almost forgetting why he was here and what he was discussing. "Why, I recall one—"

"Salazar, get to the point, if you please," Albus exhorted. "You may have forgotten that live people are under time constraints."

Looking offended, Salazar sniffed and clucked his tongue. This was so typical of a descendant of the Gryffindor House! Besides, he really didn't relish having to tell them; however, he had no choice, he may as well get it over with. "The charm Tom put on his diaries enabled him to go back and read his own thoughts, while at the same time conjuring a vision of the event. However, these were more than visions…how do I explain this? You're aware of fingerprints, how no two people have the same?"

He held up a wrinkled hand, palm side out, and pointed to the tip of one finger. Lucius, Regulus, and Phineas automatically started to study the fine lines on their own fingers, then looked up at the Founder.

"Yes, so I've been told," Dumbledore answered.

"Well, our brains are like that; no two are the same," said Salazar. "Our human memories fade and fail over time. The spell acted to literally place Tom's memories back into his head so he could experience them anew, as if they were happening all over again. In retrospect—judging by his career path, shall we say—I assume he wanted to relive his ascendance to power step by step, to savor it."

"Much like a pensieve, then," interjected Phineas, with Albus nodding along.

Salazar heaved a put-upon sigh. It was only natural to try to relate to what one knew, but it tended to get in the way of the truth. "In a broad sense, except he wasn't an outsider looking in, as occurs with a pensieve. He was there, taking part, experiencing every emotion, every detail that went along with each event. He could, in essence, live the scenes over and over in a much more powerful, vivid way than any mere ordinary memory can provide."

"Like a videocassette of a film?" asked Regulus. "Only being an actor inside it?" The rest looked askance at him, not quite sure what in blazes he was talking about.

Lucius raised his hand as if he were a boy in school again, which was how he felt around these old dead Headmasters. Realising what he was doing, he flushed and lowered it. "What has this got to do with Severus?"

"This potent charm was intended only for Tom, to fit the contours of his brain. When Snape read the books, the memories tried to fit themselves to his brain—somewhat successfully, evidently. But since his brain pattern is different, the memories have been forcing his mind to physically change, to morph….bit by bit….into Tom." Salazar ended on a near whisper.

Again, a silence so palpable and pervasive one could almost reach out and touch it. Lucius gulped and looked helplessly at Regulus, whose own wide-eyed, heartrending glance and quivering lips only added to his misery. If Salazar was right—and he expressed no doubt that he was—Severus was no longer the man they knew. He had become a cross between their beloved friend and the madman they despised above all. And from the looks of things, if recent actions were any indication, he was leaning in the Voldemort direction.

Dumbledore shattered the unearthly quiet once more, his slow, calm voice acting as a sort of salve on the mental wounds. "Is there any way to reverse the damage that has been done to Severus?"

This time Salazar was not so quick to answer. Understanding what had taken place was one thing; trying to undo it was quite another. Realizing he'd played a pivotal role in this whole sordid affair—that was the real kicker. He'd invented that spell! How could he have foreseen such consequences when no one had ever used it before? And to make matters worse, if that were even a possibility, Severus had known Tom as Lord Voldemort, he'd been fully exposed to the evil of the grown man, which was surely far more vile than anything Tom might have been when he wrote the diaries. The mind-morphing would take that into consideration, would absorb all it could of Voldemort's traits into the altered part of the brain…the Tom part.

"Lucius, this is all nonsense. I'm fine. Set me free," cajoled Severus in that waspish tone only Snape was capable of pulling off. He wiggled under the bonds. Lucius shot him a wavering look of pity before petrifying him again. Now, more than ever, it was imperative to keep him confined, until they had a conclusive answer to this dilemma.

"Is there a way?" Regulus repeated to the portrait, his dark eyes pleading.

"Not that I'm aware of," Slytherin murmured, hanging his head. "I gave the spell to Tom. No one else was supposed to read the books, he guaranteed me that they were well guarded."

"So now you're going to wallow in self-pity because you feel guilty over making this mess?" said Phineas incredulously. "Salazar, you were one of the strongest, most intelligent wizards of your time. Albus, the same goes for you in your time. If the two of you put your heads together, I'm sure you'll figure out something!"

"And if we can't?" asked Salazar.

"That is not an option," Lucius growled ominously as he stepped up to the portrait to give his most searing glare. The turmoil and pain from learning his best friend was gone, for all intents and purposes, rendered his glare more a fierce look of hatred. His naturally steady voice trembled from emotion. "I want my friend back. You f—ked up; you fix it."

He spun on his heel and made for the exit, sudden tears he refused to shed in public stinging his eyes. "Regulus, stay here until I get back. I have to make a fire call to Aline." He ran down the stairs, then flopped heavily like a rag doll on the final step, his elbows propped on his knees, his head resting in his hands. It was happening all over again. When he'd thought Severus was dead after the Final Battle at Hogwarts, it had crushed his soul to lose the man he loved as his brother. This time, he was losing his best friend, only to have him replaced by evil, and there was not a damned thing he could do about it. Why hadn't anyone stopped it earlier? Why hadn't they seen?

Lucius drew in a shaky breath; he would not break down. Severus wasn't gone yet. Voldemort may have gained a foothold, but Snape was still in there. Was there to be a war between the opposing forces? And if so, would Severus' indomitable, stubborn spirit prevail? His brain had been warped, physically altered…who could undo that? How much damage had been done? No, he must think positively. Where there's life, there's hope, and all that. Right? They'd find a way. Hell, they'd brought Narcissa back through the Veil and restored life to Regulus and Sirius—with a whole lot of help from Severus. Compared to that, what was accomplishing one more impossible task? Lucius could not—would not—give up on him.

He got up, took a few deep, cleansing breaths, and let them out slowly. He had to find a fireplace to talk to Aline.

XXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOO

"Aline, wait," Narcissa implored, hanging onto the witch's arm. "If you floo out, you won't be able to come back. The floo is charmed so nobody can get in. Remember?"

"I don't care," Aline responded flatly. She was conscious of not only Narcissa, but Andromeda and Draco watching her. She felt their sympathetic gazes wash over her as if Severus were dead, and experienced a surge of fury. He wasn't dead, he was only injured! Even if she couldn't help him, she needed to be there, to see him, to speak to him, to let him know she was on his side. "Narcissa, if positions were reversed and Lucius were the one ravaged by those diaries, could I keep you from his side?"

Narcissa hesitated only a fraction of a second, then dropped her hand and stepped aside. "As soon as you find out anything, send us word."

Aline nodded. Less than a minute later, she was walking out of the fireplace in the quarters Severus had used before their wedding, before they moved to the Prince estate. If her hunch was correct, Lucius had used this hearth; it was the closest one to her husband's office, where he was being held. Another shudder ran through her to think of Severus' condition as Lucius had explained it. What would she find? Would she even recognize him? A torrent of frightened, worried sobs threatened to burst forth, yet she held them back. There would be time later for crying; it would help no one for Severus to see her like that.

As quickly as a woman approaching the eighth month of pregnancy was able, she hurried from the room. There, down the corridor, she spied the retreating form of Lucius. She called to him and he wheeled so fast, wand out, that it startled her. It startled her even more to note her own wand had somehow made its way into her hand, at ready. At least her reflexes remained!

Malfoy was striding toward her, looking a tad peeved, but he'd put his wand away. "Aline, I told you not to come." Nonetheless, he embraced her warmly.

"I don't do well taking orders," she answered candidly. Surely Severus had told his friend that by now! She started to head for the office, and added stubbornly, "I'm not afraid of Severus. He needs me, and I need him."

No use arguing with a woman, especially a pregnant one, Lucius mused. Life with Narcissa had taught him that much. "Come on, then. We can't keep him here, we must take him to a protected location where he can't apparate away or escape." Lucius paused, his shoes clicking in the hallway the only sound. He'd told her everything else, he may as well tell her the rest…like she wouldn't find out on her own with that clairvoyance. "Until we can fix him, we're going to have to stand guard over him. I've already owled my companions to meet me at the old castle." He had no doubt she knew what castle he meant, the rubble heap where Voldemort had utilised as his Headquarters for a few years.

"You've certainly thought this through," she observed, waddling as fast as she could to keep up with his longer strides.

Lucius inclined his head by way of acknowledgement. A wry grin touched the corners of his mouth. "In my former line of work, it was an asset to think on one's feet. I became quite adept at it." Right before they mounted the stairs to the office, Lucius held back, blocking the way and facing the woman. "Please don't freak out when you see Severus. He's petrified… when we allow him to speak, he may say terrible things to you like he did to Bayly. I want you to be prepared."

Aline attempted a smile. When Malfoy had told her Tom Riddle was in Severus' head, she assumed things would be different. "I'll pretend it's Severus when we first met. He was a total jackass then."

A chuckle escaped Lucius. Truer words were never spoken! Snape did have an abrasive aspect to him. Solemnly he said, "He's very lucky to have you, Aline. And he knows he is. I hope somehow you can get through to him."

"I'll try, believe me," she answered.

"There you are!" Regulus called from the top of the winding staircase. "You were gone a long time, I was starting to worry. Dumbledore and the others left to talk or something." Implied in there was 'and I'm left all alone with this nutcase who used to be my friend'.

Aline and Lucius traipsed up the steps, where Lucius paused once more to explain to the lad the plans he had for Snape. Aline elbowed past the men and ran to kneel beside the prone wizard. She stroked his hair and bent down to kiss his frozen lips. A strong desire to weep welled up, but was overtaken by surprise. Severus looked the same as always, he didn't seem helpless or terrifying as she'd expected. He looked kind of…peevish.

A wave of her wand released Snape from the Petrificus Totalus. "Are you alright, honey? I'm sorry they're keeping you like this."

"Aline, they've gone berserk. See what they're doing to me?" he whispered feverishly. "Reverse the charm, get these ropes off."

The witch chewed thoughtfully on her lip, regarding her husband. She wanted to believe him, but Lucius and Regulus had no reason to lie about something like this. And this was far from the first indication she'd had that the diaries were impairing the man—everyone noticed. Her delicate hand continued to caress his cheek. "I can't let you go. We're going to figure out how to heal you, but until—"

"Yes, let's play along with the crowd," Snape interrupted in a harsh, calculating tone. "Little Aline wants to pretend she's normal. We know better, don't we? You—"

"Don't even go there," Aline growled in his ear, wholly unintimidated. "I know Severus inside and out, and I have seen how he's changed over the past couple of months. You can't fool me, and you can't chase me away. I'm going to get Severus back. That's a promise. So save your stupid threats and insults for somebody who cares what you think!"

She lumbered to her feet and turned to see Lucius and Regulus gazing at her in admiration. "Well said," Lucius murmured, applauding lightly. He felt an overwhelming sense of relief, and he wasn't entirely sure why. Perhaps it was that Aline hadn't fallen apart at a time he was barely holding himself together, that she would prove to be a strong ally when he most needed one. Or maybe that she did have that clairvoyance, maybe she knew something he didn't… To Regulus he said, "Don't you have some wrestling event to attend?"

The youth shrugged and ducked his head. From the red-rimmed look of his eyes, it appeared he'd been crying earlier. "I don't know that I'm rightly in the mood."

"Go ahead, Reg," Aline encouraged him. She patted his arm, her voice softening. "It's been a bad shock, but there isn't anything you can do just now. It doesn't mean you don't care about Severus if you enjoy yourself. I know you care, and so does he. Go, have a good time." She smiled a little sadly as she added, "We may not have a lot of chances for that until Severus is better."

Regulus looked to Lucius, who nodded. "When you get back, check in with me at the manor or the old castle. I'll need to assign you sentry duty."