The Voldemort Diaries—Chapter 21 (The Great Escape)
March 1, 1973
Lucius apparated in a seedy area of London behind a dumpster on an alongside with Bellatrix, vaguely resenting the power she held over him. At not quite seventeen, he had yet to learn the art; once he got back to school, he planned to make apparating a top priority. Bellatrix took off at a trot down the alley, her spiky heels clicking wildly, leaving Lucius and a couple of bums staring after her. He wondered why she wasn't freezing in that ludicrous, tiny outfit.
"Bella," he hissed at her. "Bella!"
She ignored him, of course, and he was forced to resort to chasing her down. Sensible footwear has its uses. He snagged her arm, bringing her to a halt and whirling her around, barely ducking in time to avoid a hard left hook. His arm encircled her waist and he lifted her off the ground, promptly tripped, and careened into the side of a brick building, where they both collapsed in a heap.
"Hey!" a man's voice shouted. "Leave her alone!"
Lucius shook his head to clear it and peered at a young man striding into the alley. "Who? Her?" He pointed at the witch struggling to her feet, wrinkling his nose as if he'd ever assault someone of her caliber.
"If she don't wanna go with you, bugger off!" demanded the intruder.
Wand gripped in his hand, ready to yank from his pocket, Lucius thought better of it. There were witnesses. "Thank you for your presumptive advice," he drawled coldly.
Bellatrix eyed the man up and down, then spat at him. "Filthy muggle! Mind your own business!"
Lucius had to forcibly restrain her from drawing her wand. "Bella, we need to go. Now."
"That's what I was trying to do!" she screeched, stalking away haughtily in the same direction she'd first begun.
In a frustrated outburst, unwilling to tackle her again, he bellowed, "You're going the wrong way!"
She froze mid-stride, spun on her heel, and marched back to him. "Fine, smartass, you lead the way."
Bellatrix was no more amused when, upon reaching a hidden entryway of a nondescript, shabby building, Lucius unceremoniously shoved her through without warning. She tumbled backward, landing on her rump; when he walked in after her, she sent a curse sailing past his ear, missing only because she'd not taken careful aim in her hurry to hex the little twerp. He leaped aside, trying to hide behind a tiny old trunk amid the rubble of the dank room.
"Bella, stop it! That's the way you have to come in the first time." When Macnair had brought him here a mere few months ago, it was the way he'd been introduced.
"Yeah, right," she sneered, narrowing her eyes to slits.
Lucius drew his wand in the event he might need to ward off another Bella-special. How in the world had Narcissa survived childhood with this nutcase in the same house? If the dark lord hadn't demanded he find and bring a new follower, he'd not even be here now; if he hadn't happened to know a huge supporter who'd been chomping at the bit to meet the dark wizard, he'd probably be dead now for failing in his assignment.
"Where is he, Lucius?" she shouted. "If you tricked me, I'll—"
She had no chance to finish. Instantly the two were transported to Voldemort's parlour room, where Bellatrix seemed to have forgotten all about Lucius. Eyes aglow, she turned circles in the room, gawking unabashedly about. Moments later Voldemort apparated with a 'crack'.
Remembering his manners, Lucius dropped to his knees. "My lord, I've brought you a follower, as you ordered."
Not to be outdone, Bellatrix threw herself prostrate on the floor. "Lord Voldemort!" The word was almost a sigh of pure contentment.
The dark wizard scanned the two. As his red eyes roamed over Lucius, the boy ducked his head in an attempt to appear humble as well as to guard against any mind probes. Bellatrix lifted her head to peek at the imposing figure who was every bit as awesome as she'd imagined. When his eyes met hers, her breath quickened and she found herself reaching out to him. Voldemort permitted himself a small smile. The wayward boy had brought him a willing servant indeed, a soul he sensed in tune with his own.
"Come forward, Bellatrix," he said.
Bella crawled, almost slithered up to the hem of his robe, which she kissed with a fervor he'd not witnessed in any of his other minions. It was a nice touch; he'd have to make it mandatory for the rest, he decided.
"Why do you come to me?"
"To serve you, my lord, in every way. To uphold pureblood wizardry, to rid the world of muggles and mudbloods."
Voldemort directed his comment at Lucius, who was busy wishing she would shut up with her excessive sucking up. "This, young Malfoy, is the reply of a devoted supporter. Hardly the response I got from you, was it?"
Lucius flushed, suddenly afraid he'd allowed his mind to be penetrated again. "Forgive me, master. I didn't know any better at the time. Of course it's my ambition to rid our world of these blemishes against pureblood rule and domination."
Voldemort debated internally for only a second. He could ask more questions, he could probe the mind of this witch, but it was unnecessary. She endeavored to hold nothing back, her answers were as refreshingly honest as they were welcome. "Bellatrix, stretch out your arm."
She hastily did so and he touched it with his wand. Immediately the room was filled with a tremendous shriek of pain, calming down to a whimper while she rocked back and forth on the floor cradling her arm like a baby, every so often gazing at it and kissing the Mark tenderly.
"Thank you, master," she breathed. "I will be your most loyal servant."
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August 30, 2000
March 1, 1973
A new follower has joined our ranks today: Bellatrix Lestrange, pureblood witch of great power. When Lucius informed me he'd selected a woman to bring, I was understandably ambivalent about the situation. While females are capable of performing on every level equal to males, they often harbour an annoying propensity to mercy and pity. Hardly conducive to serving in the ranks of my Death Eaters.
Fortunately, I was able to observe Bellatrix in action on this, our first—and auspicious— meeting. I'd ordered my men to capture an auror and secure him in the dungeon area for Malfoy to practice the Cruciatus. We've made some progress on his tormenting skills, yet the boy remains sorely lacking in brutality; I shall train him to obey me if it kills him. In fact, I did succeed in goading him to action by holding him under the curse and threatening his little girlfriend with the same. Once enough hatred is stirred up, the Unforgivables flow freely. He doesn't enjoy it, more is the pity. Perhaps in time. But I digress.
I can't say the same for Bellatrix. She not only offered to torture the auror, she attacked with relish. At first her attempt was unproductive, but after I'd explained the foundational principles, taught her to inhale his misery as if her own life depended upon it, her spell struck with a force I've rarely witnessed—not counting my own, naturally. It was beautiful to watch.
Beautiful to watch, Severus read, shaking his head. He grimaced sadly. Bella had been a lunatic to begin with, she hadn't needed to join the dark lord to satisfy her thirst for evil. But so many others had been drawn by promises that turned out to be pie in the sky dreams. What a waste of lives, so many lives, both Death Eater and their foes, all because a maniac was able to rally them around a flawed cause. How different things might have been had Tom Riddle never lived. Certainly his own life would not be the same.
And Lucius, his best friend...Severus hadn't found out till he was set to become a Death Eater himself how Voldemort had often punished Lucius with the Cruciatus when he was a new recruit, how he'd made the lad afflict others…it sickened Snape then, and it sickened him all over again to recall. This diary entry verified what hadn't needed verification, stirred old memories best left untouched. Lucius was his friend—his only friend at the time—a boy who'd been loyal and kind to him, and not because he wanted something in return, for Severus had nothing to offer except knowledge and potions. Yes, Lucius was arrogant and snobbish with most people, that had never been in question. But Malfoy hadn't been the cold, heartless bastard so many accused him of being, and despite everything he'd endured at Voldemort's hands, despite his years of service to the dark lord, he was still not an evil man.
Time and experience had hardened him, changed him from the naïve lad who had to be threatened and tortured to use an Unforgivable…it was inevitable. He'd learned cruelty out of necessity, he'd learned to torture on command, he'd proven himself less than an exemplary citizen on more than one occasion. But he'd never sunk to murder; he retained a desire to not only be accepted, but acceptable based on his merits. How many people, serving the likes of Voldemort for all those years, could lay claim to that?
Certainly not Bellatrix, though Severus was relatively sure she'd killed long before ever meeting Voldemort. The two crackpots together made a formidable duo that the world was much better off without. And now that Tom Riddle had finally stopped making unscheduled appearances in his brain—two full weeks!—he could work on erasing the memories. That is, he could work on it if he didn't still feel a deep-seated need to read these blasted diaries! And when were they ever going to let him out of here?
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"Aline, I hadn't expected to see you here." Salazar Slytherin straightened up in his portrait and gazed down at the witch in the corridor. "How are you? How is Severus?"
Aline ignored the first question; she'd grown tired of everyone constantly asking, when all she could do was lie or answer truthfully: her feet hurt, her back ached, her rotund stomach made it impossible to bend over, she was sick of being pregnant, and for several hours she'd been getting crampy pains. "That's why I'm here, Salazar. I talked to Albus, but he really doesn't know, so I figured I'd come to you…I'm sorry, I'm rambling." Her doleful brown eyes fixed on his. "The countercharm you and Albus provided is working, Tom is weakening. The problem is, we don't know when it's safe to bring Severus home. I hoped you could tell me."
"Ah." Salazar crossed his arms and leaned back. He sighed and shook his head. "I wish I could tell you, Aline."
"But you made up the spell! You have to know something!" she exclaimed in desperation.
"I do." It pleased him to see a glint of hope return to her eyes. "Severus still feels a compulsion to read the diaries, am I correct? That means the damage to his brain is not yet fully undone. When he no longer feels any need to read them, he will be cured."
"I see," said Aline softly. "That could be a long time."
"Don't misunderstand me. Tom Riddle's influence, his ability to take over Severus continues to diminish, and Severus will be in complete control long before he is able to cease reading the books. Once he reaches this point, it will be safe to allow him to go free, and he can carry on the therapy of reading outside of his prison." Salazar smiled. This was good news. Why wasn't she happy? True, he didn't know how to tell when Severus had reached the point of being in control, but it was still glad tidings. "Are you alright?"
Aline shook her head, groaning and doubling over where she stood. "Oh, God!" A film of clear liquid spread around her feet. She tried to access her wand to clean it up, but the waves of pain were too strong. Instead, she clutched the wall and slid to her knees. "Help me!"
Staring, aghast, Salazar hesitated. Then all at once he bolted from his frame. He hated leaving her alone, but what could a portrait do? He had to find live people! He darted through a meadow of grazing cows, peering into a corridor as he ran. There was no one about. He nearly knocked a Musketeer on his arse in his hurry to check out the Gryffindor area, and barely escaped a rapier to the heart on his way out. The guests at a banquet did not appreciate the way he slammed into their tables, upsetting the contents onto their laps.
He dashed into a portrait with a lonely-looking woman, and was about to scoot out when he spied two people walking toward him in the hall. "You there! Stop! Stop, I say!"
Bayly and Andromeda glanced around for the source of the voice.
"Up here! It's Salazar Slytherin," he snapped. Finally! As their eyes turned to him, he said, "Mistress Snape has gone into labour in the dungeon, in front of my portrait. She requires assistance."
Andromeda, the Muggle Studies teacher, gasped. "Bayly, go get Poppy. I'll find Aline." So saying, she ran back the way they'd come and pounded down the steps to the dungeon. Having been a Slytherin during her time at Hogwarts, she was intimately acquainted with the layout of the dungeon labyrinth, unlike Bayly or any of the other teachers.
Bayly hurried off to the infirmary to do as ordered, before making a stop in Headmaster Snape's office to use the floo. If he failed to bring Dr. Livingston, Snape would pitch a fit of massive proportions.
"That's right, don't anyone acknowledge me," Salazar griped out loud to the empty corridor. He got up and huffed back to his own portrait frame.
"I can't—have the babies—here," Aline panted to Andy, who'd forced her to sit back, propped against the wall. A hard moan rang out as another contraction racked her body.
"Poppy's coming. She'll help you to the infirmary." I hope. Unless it's too late.
"The floor—is dirty," lamented Aline. "And I—want Severus."
Andy squeezed her hand. "I know." There was nothing else she could say, no comforting 'he's on his way', so she crouched in silence beside her, glancing repeatedly up the corridor. Aside from herself, and maybe Aline, none of the teachers knew the maze of halls down here. What if Poppy got lost and couldn't find them in time? "Aline, I'm going to start levitating you toward the exit, alright?"
The other witch nodded. "Take me—to my old—quarters. Before I—married Severus."
That made sense. The Head of House quarters were much closer than the infirmary, furnished, comfortable, familiar—and Poppy ought to be able to find them. Andromeda drew her wand to carefully levitate Aline a mere few inches off the floor, just in case she had to set her down suddenly. They made it to right outside the door of Aline's old suite when Poppy came scurrying along.
A swift wave of her wand over Aline's abdomen, and a brief bout of poking and prodding were all she needed. The mediwitch's eyes widened as she flung open the door. "Bring her in. I've rarely heard of first children coming so quickly, but these babies are in a hurry."
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"Severus." Lucius came in almost hesitantly, yet he wore an expression of muted joy. He waited for Snape to look up from his reading. Always reading…that was good, right? Yes, it must be, if it meant more reversal of damage.
"What are you doing here, Lucius? I didn't expect you back until—" Severus jumped to his feet, his heart hammering wildly, his stomach doing obscene acrobatics. In a flash he was at the bars. "What's wrong? Is Aline alright? Has something happened to the children?"
Malfoy raised a hand and smiled, though the smile didn't touch his eyes. Not when his best friend was incarcerated for God only knew how long, and at a time like this. "Everyone is in perfect health. In fact, I came to inform you that you have two beautiful, healthy sons—identical twins. They were born a few hours ago at Hogwarts, and Aline is resting there."
"She had the babies," Severus murmured, visibly slumping. Unspoken were the words without me. He had two boys. That was good. He'd hoped for a boy and a girl, but this was wonderful, too. He'd so very much wanted to be there for Aline, to watch his children enter the world. He'd missed that opportunity with Jacinta; this was supposed to be different. A lump forming in his throat was shoved down with a snarl. "Thank you for telling me. Or should I say thank you for keeping me prisoner when you've seen time and again that I'm well?"
"Severus, please don't."
"Don't what, Lucius? Don't be sick and tired of being in here? Don't be furious that I missed the birth of my children? Don't be sick at heart that my wife needs me and I can't go to her?" He kicked the bars, hard; they rattled ever so slightly. "If you consider me your friend, let me out. Now."
"I can't do that," Lucius protested. Over his shoulder he noted Rabby and Dolph rising from their seats, though what they planned to do remained a mystery.
"LET ME OUT!" Severus bellowed, attacking the bars with a vengeance, kicking and shaking them over and over until his feet ached in his boots and his arms felt like jelly. "Damn it, I swear I'll make you pay for this! Let me out!" He dashed to the table, where he heaved a good number of the books onto the ground with one swipe of his arm, then he picked up a couple of heavy volumes and flung them at his friend. They struck the bars and bounced to the floor.
"Severus, quit! I'll find a way, I swear I will," Lucius pleaded, ducking from another book that managed to sail between the cage bars.
"A way to what? Determine I'm better?" howled Snape, chucking another trio of books at him in rapid succession. "I've told you I am, I've begged you, and you won't believe me! How can I prove it? You'll never believe me! Why don't you just do us all a favour and avada kedavra me? I'd rather be dead than stay in here forever." Yet another book clanged into the bars.
Lucius backed away, sorrow evident in every part of his being. He could hardly blame Snape for his outburst. Would he react differently if he were the one detained in this hellhole for months, then kept from his wife and newborn children when they needed him? Probably not. And he couldn't even bring the boys for Severus to see; apparating at such a young age was frowned upon, as it invited injury to the delicate bodies. "I will find a way to get you out of here," he said quietly. It rang loudly in the icy silence.
"Sod off," Snape replied nastily, and turned his back on the man.
Lucius wheeled around; he spied Jorab scant meters away. As a vent to his current frustration, added to his displeasure at Jorab's disappearance from the restaurant during his date several days ago, he raised his wand and blasted the man so hard he flew back and crashed against the wall, then sagged there panting. Dolph rose up indignantly, wand in hand as Lucius stalked out.
Severus heard the swishing of Malfoy's cloak and the soft thud of his boots as he left. Another round of fury overtook him. Had he not only this morning been deliberating on Lucius' good points? What a crock! Malfoy was as self-serving and duplicitous as they came; he probably hadn't wasted a single minute on trying to find a way to ascertain when it was safe for his 'mate' to go free. Severus would rot in this place if he depended on Lucius for salvation!
Wendolph chased Lucius out of the castle ruins, set to retaliate for the affront against his brother. Before Lucius had a chance to disapparate, he growled, "What the f—k was that, Malfoy? You're pissed at Snape, so you take it out on Rabby?"
"No, that was for leaving Jugson's widow in the lurch while on a date with Narcissa and myself. He made us look like fools!" Lucius snapped back.
Undeterred, Dolph raised his wand. A second later, Rabby slapped it down. He stood beside his brother, slightly hunched from pain, one arm wrapped round his stomach. "Let it go, Dolph. I deserved it."
Lucius fixed him with a grey-eyed glare. "Of course you did. I could barely choke down my dinner, I was so irate. You're lucky I didn't catch up with you that night! And for some unknown reason, Mrs. Jugson wishes to see you again."
"I'm not going out with her," Rab stated.
"Then I suggest you inform her," Lucius drawled in a low voice. "I'm done with it, as is Narcissa."
Contrary to the words, it was not a suggestion and Jorab knew it. Malfoy valued his precious reputation, and making him look bad in front of peers only served to enrage him—evidently. If he didn't let the witch know his intentions, and phrase it in a way that made her feel good about the whole thing, Lucius was liable to curse his arse into next week. "I"ll owl her," Rab said.
"You do that." Lucius disapparated, leaving the brothers behind.
Severus glanced over his shoulder. The Goodman brothers had gone after Malfoy; he was alone for the first time…not that it afforded him any opportunities he didn't have when they were present, but he was so tired of being watched like an animal. He expected them to return momentarily, likely to discuss Snape's eruption and Malfoy's little outburst. Let them, he didn't care. In fact, he'd give them something to really talk about. A semi-crazy notion had struck him out of the blue. He had thought fleetingly of it a few times in the past weeks, but he had no idea if it would work, and he'd been waiting for Lucius to free him…apparently that wasn't going to happen, so this was his last resort. He had to try it. When Riddle had controlled him, the dark wizard had never considered the idea because no house elf owed allegiance to him. He could not have commanded one to do a single thing. Well, Riddle wasn't running the show anymore.
"Winky," he said, practically in a whisper. "Winky, if you hear me, come."
Moments later, the pink-clad elf popped into his cell, ears drooping and golfball-sized eyes bugging to see his atrocious accommodations. "Master Headmaster—"
"Dolph! An elf!" Rabby shouted, running to the bars, where he was helpless to do a thing.
"Take me away from here," Severus ordered. He snatched ahold of her strangely over-large hand attached to a sticklike arm.
And they were gone.
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Evening had fallen. Severus paced in agitation round and round the Potions lab. No one would be coming in tonight, so he was safe here. The only person he might have to worry about was Bayly, and he was currently in Aline's Head of House suite with Gloria and Aline. He wished he had his wand—hell, he wished he knew who had it or where it was, and he'd retrieve it himself. He felt naked without it. The last he'd seen of it, before being knocked unconscious with a rock, was at Aberforth's tavern.
Winky had been able to Apparate him to Hogwarts, despite the wards and barriers blocking human apparition, due to the special dispensation granted to Hogwarts elves by Dumbledore. After the Chamber of Secrets debacle, wherein Dobby had been in and out at will, Albus thought it prudent to eliminate the possibility of Death Eaters apparating in with their elves. Since that time, Hogwarts elves could penetrate places ordinary elves could not, though Severus had instructed Winky to watch and listen at the door rather than barge into Aline's private space. Those huge ears and eyes had to come in handy some time.
More than two hours had passed since his escape. He wondered if Aline had been notified. He felt certain Dolph and Rab had gone straight to Malfoy, who'd organized them and the other guards to search all known haunts of the Potions master. Hopefully, they'd not consider Hogwarts, which for all they knew was impenetrable. Damn it, what if Bayly stayed all night in the room as a precaution? Severus wouldn't be able to go in! Or if he got in, would Aline want to see him? He shook his head. He was just borrowing trouble.
There was a soft, muffled rapping at the door, then a great, round head with long, pointy ears poked inside. "Master Headmaster Snape, sir," she whispered rather loudly. "The coats are clear." She grinned at him.
Snape stared back at her. "You mean, 'the coast is clear'?"
Winky nodded vehemently, her ears flapping enthusiastically. "Mistress Snape sends humans away, saying she tired and Master Headmaster's beautiful babies is sleeping."
It was time. Severus' stomach tightened as he followed her stealthily to what had been for many years his own quarters. Winky pressed her ear up to the door once more, flattening it on the wood. Satisfied, he touched the lock with her finger and it made a small click. She turned the knob and slinked inside, where the dark was every bit as oppressive as in the corridor. Snape thought briefly that the elf's eyes must resemble a cat's, for she had no trouble wending her way to the bedroom.
A lamp on the nightstand glowed a warm, subdued light, enough for Severus to see that Aline was not there. He heard water running in the adjacent bathroom. Quietly he stole to the corner of the room where a crib had been erected, most likely in a hurry, for no one expected Aline to give birth at Hogwarts.
He gazed down at the two perfect, tiny boys cuddled against one another, face to face. One infant was sucking his thumb, the other rested one hand on his brother's cheek. They both sported a shock of black hair, but beyond that he could see little in the dim light. His breath caught in his throat. These miracles were his children, his darling babies with the woman he loved more than he'd ever believed was possible. This should be an occasion of celebration, yet here he was sneaking in like a thief.
"Get away from my sons."
Severus spun to see Aline's wand aimed straight at his heart, unwavering.
The look in her eyes said she was poised to shoot. "Now."