Severus stood staring at the blank wall opposite a tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy's foolish attempt to train trolls for ballet.
He had already raised subtle wards on both ends of the seventh floor corridor to make sure no one would come this way while he was taking care of his mission. He had also cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and just in case chosen a moment when Dumbledore wasn't in the castle.
It was taking him some time to wrap his head around the power supposedly held by this wall. He had been aware of magic since he could remember, and he had seen all sorts of extraordinary things through his life, but this was the first time he came across some sort of wish magic.
Only in Hogwarts.
It was also still hard to believe that the Dark Lord had been foolish enough as to hide a piece of his soul right under Dumbledore's noses. The arrogance of thinking himself the only person capable of figuring out Hogwarts' deepest secrets, however, wasn't surprizing at all. Clearly the Dark Lord had disregarded all reports about the Marauders and the Weasley twins.
Severus was also worried about Draco. The spoiled brat had confessed to have been trying to repair a Vanishing Cabinet connected to Borgin and Burkes (the same cabinet where Montague had gotten stuck last year), and he had said he had been doing it in a secret workroom in the seventh floor. Severus had assumed it was an ordinary room that Draco imagined secret, but this must be it. He hoped the boy would not make the mistake of bragging nor thinking about it when in the Dark Lord's presence.
And he also had the suspicion that this was where Potter and his little army had met last year to hide from Umbridge. The Dark Lord definitely must not know about that.
Shaking off his ever growing concerns, Severus glanced one last time with mistrust at Barnabas the Barmy and then began pacing back and forth along the blank stretch of wall, feeling quite silly closing his eyes and wishing hard like he had done as a little kid. Then he had wished for his father to go away, and of course his wish had gone unanswered.
I need the room where the Dark Lord hid Ravenclaw's Diadem.
I need the room where the Dark Lord hid Ravenclaw's Diadem.
I need the room where the Dark Lord hid Ravenclaw's Diadem.
When he opened his eyes and wheeled around after his third walk past, the wall was no longer bare, and despite having been expecting it he couldn't help a certain degree of shock. Then he rolled his eyes at the sight of the most ostentatious door he had ever seen. Typical Dark Lord.
He approached warily, and even though his master had said there weren't any wards nor traps he cast as many diagnostic spells as he could remember. Everything came up clean, but he still hesitated a long minute before daring to touch door.
Finally, squashing the part of his brain that kept telling him that this was an external wall and therefore any door in it would lead to a free fall, Severus turned the doorknob and walked in.
The room was just as ostentatious as the door had promised. Severus' first thought was that it was terribly insulting to Rowena Ravenclaw to hide her diadem in such a Slytherin hideout. The relic should be resting in a wide, airy room with graceful arched windows and blue carpets, not in the ultimate dungeon.
That consideration aside, the place suited Severus. It was pretentious, yes, but also soothing like only Slytherin refuges could be. It felt safe, like a Muggle bunker.
And there it was, the lost Diadem of Ravenclaw, found by Salazar Slytherin's last descendant and turned into a vessel for evilness. Rowena must be rolling over in her grave.
The Dark Lord hadn't said anything about soul pieces, of course, but Severus was certain that this object was another Horcrux. The diary, the ring, the snake, the diadem... four intentional Horcruxes, plus Potter. If the Dark Lord had stuck to the ambitious project of a seven-parted soul he had suggested in Slughorn's memory (and knowing the Dark Lord's obsessive and single-minded disposition Severus had no doubt that he had), then there must be two more Horcruxes out there. That assuming that the bastard had kept a little bit of soul inside him.
He wondered if his already unstable master would be crazy enough as to attempt to make new Horcruxes to make up for the lost ones. Judging by his obvious panic and fury Severus would guess that wasn't an option. Although Potter had ended up being an accidental Horcrux... Did that mean that it was possible to make more, or was Potter the sixth Horcrux? Perhaps the Dark Lord hadn't yet finished his project when he had gone that night to kill Lily.
Severus pushed aside the pain that Lily's death still brought on and directed his full attention to the diadem. The Dark Lord had said it was safe to touch, but it must carry a curse like the ring had because he had also warned him against trying it on. That was fine with Severus, since he had no interest in acquiring more wisdom to deliberately ignore.
Again, just in case he cast a battery of diagnostic spells on it, all the while wondering what the hell had Dumbledore been thinking when putting on that stupid ring. The curse on it must have been as obvious as the one on this thing. The old man had said he had been tempted, but tempted by what? Severus would have forgiven the slip if he had tried on the legendary Diadem of Ravenclaw (Dumbledore loved to hoard knowledge), but a simple ring?
At the end of his diagnostic spellwork Severus had confirmed that, just like the Dark Lord had said, it was safe to touch but not to wear. Still, he didn't touch it. Instead he stood there, staring at the corrupted object and thinking about how to proceed.
His orders were to collect the diadem and deliver it to his master, but he didn't feel overly inclined to do so. Despite having made a decision that would keep his twisted master alive and in power for the foreseeable future, Severus still wanted the bastard dead or worse. He had condemned humanity to a long period of darkness, but if at all possible he would try to make sure that the day Potter died naturally surrounded by great-great-grandchildren the Dark Lord would be rendered mortal.
Severus snorted. Potter living so long was as far-fetched a possibility as the one of Severus dying of old age. But that was the goal. And that was as far as his plan went. Ideally Severus would make sure of destroying all the other Horcruxes and killing Nagini before dying himself, and he would leave someone behind who knew that the time for a last stand would come after Harry Potter's death.
If his master didn't believe him when he told him that he hadn't found the diadem, though, Severus would not live enough to even kill Dumbledore, and the boy would be left to deal with a possessive Dark Lord without any guidance nor protection.
Another angle to consider was whether Potter would benefit more by the Dark Lord believing that several other Horcruxes were safe, or that Potter was one of the scarce left. The boy would have more intrinsic value if he was one of the few, but that might lead to an obsessively protective Dark Lord who might decide Potter must be kept safe inside a padded room forever. While if there were several other Horcruxes the insane maniac might decide in a moment of rage (caused by Potter's insubordination, no doubt) that he didn't really need so many soul pieces.
Severus stood for a long time contemplating the dilemma. Weighting his own skills and resources against the risks and uncertainties. And wondering whether he was delusional when thinking that this highly immoral plan of his had any chance of success.
In the end, he wrapped the diadem with a piece of cloth and slipped it into one of his pockets even though he still hadn't managed to reach a decision. The impressive door disappeared as soon as both his feet had made contact with the corridor's floor, and Severus was left to figure out what to do next.
Since he was there and his mind was weary of turning around impossible choices, he decided to distract himself with some of his other worries. First he paced back and forth requesting the room where Potter's fan club had met last year to learn Defence from the Golden Boy, and to his surprize the Room granted his snarky request. At least Potter's highly polished door wasn't pretentious, he thought dryly as he walked in and inspected the place where Dumbledore's Army had gathered behind the toad's back. It was actually quite a decent training room, he had to admit, with everything anyone could need to teach Defence and even design lessons plans. He wondered if Potter had requested each detail specifically or if the Room had done everything for him. More likely the latter.
Satisfied his curiosity (and promising himself to return at some other time to check out those Defence books), he stepped out and began pacing again. This time he asked for the room where Draco had been repairing the Vanishing Cabinet, and another door materialized.
Severus gasped when he entered the new room. He was standing inside what seemed like a large cathedral, its high windows sending shafts of light down upon what looked like a city with towering walls built of all sorts of objects. There were alleyways and roads bordered by teetering piles of broken and damaged furniture; thousands of books, winged catapults, Fanged Frisbees still hovering halfheartedly over the mountains of miscellaneous stuff; chipped bottles of congealed potions, hats, jewels, cloaks, brooms; dragon eggshells, corked bottles filled with obviously forbidden substances, rusting swords, even a heavy, bloodstained axe.
Dumbstruck, he ventured forward, making a monumental effort not to trip with anything while his eyes tried to take in his surroundings. He walked past a huge stuffed troll, and past what seemed like the result of a reckless experiment involving a two-headed skeleton, and past a barrel full of sherry bottles that reminded him of Trelawney. He found the Vanishing Cabinet and checked that it was still broken, but Draco's clumsy plots had been relegated to the back of his mind in the face of this massive labyrinth made of illegal or useless junk.
The Dark Lord plainly had been an idiot.
It was clear now that the Room that Came and Went had been regularly used ever since the Founders' days by countless generations of students eager to hide things from their teachers. And probably also by teachers eager to hide things from students, headmasters or Ministry officials.
Severus stopped by a pile of books and, after casting a few spells to make sure they were safe to touch, flicked through one of them. It was a first edition of an extremely rare and extremely banned text. Another was a journal with made-up potions receipts that at first glance seemed to have in common a murderous intent. He pocketed both of them and kept exploring.
He could have stayed inside that cathedral for a month and still not be even close to check everything out. As it was, he couldn't afford to stay even half an hour. The Dark Lord would expect him back tonight with the diadem in hand, and he had to mentally prepare for that meeting.
Because he had just decided not to surrender the Horcrux.
###
"Crucio!"
Severus fell to the floor and began to shudder in a convulsive way, but he stubbornly remained still and quiet.
"Crucio!" snarled Tom again, putting more power and intent into it. Scream, you traitor!
At least now Severus was writhing, but it still wasn't enough.
"Crucio!"
"Crucio!"
"Crucio!"
"SECTUMSEMPRA!" he roared. There, Severus, your own signature curse! Scream, you bastard!
Severus didn't scream, but at least he gasped when his flesh was slashed. And he begged.
"Please, my Lord," the pathetic servant implored, breath ragged. He spit out a mouthful of blood while he tried to quench the worst of the bleeding with his hands. "Please... I am your most loyal subject, my Lord... Please..."
"You're a filthy traitor!" yelled Tom. "You have been working against me all these years, haven't you? Plotting with the old fool! Crucio!"
"Please, my Lord," rasped Severus during another brief pause. He was bleeding copiously now. "I would never betray you. Never! I live to serve you, please..."
Tom felt his head on fire. He needed to kill, to destroy, to annihilate. A tiny part of his brain told him that he shouldn't kill Severus just yet, though, not yet. And he knew that if he continued torturing him he would bleed out too fast. If only to be able to torture him some more later, he must keep him alive.
So instead he destroyed every single Malfoy possession around him, even the family portraits. Damned Lucius! Damned Regulus! And Severus...
He forced himself to calm down. Tom rarely bothered using Occlumency to control his rage, since his murderous impulses weren't something to repress in his opinion, but now he did. Because what if he was making a mistake with Severus? On some level he was aware that this might be all Dumbledore. And Dumbledore would be oh so pleased if Tom killed his own loyal subject, just as he would be pleased if he destroyed his own soul.
"Please, my Lord," begged Severus weakly. "I need to stop the bleeding. I can't serve you if I'm dead. Please let me serve you..."
Tom glanced at him and saw the man half kneeling in a poodle of blood. His face was ghostly pale and his hands were shaking, his eyes unfocused. After another brief deliberation, Tom finally gave him permission to heal himself and then turned his back on him. He heard a muttered countercurse behind him, and then the clinking of glass phials as Severus no doubt retrieved a Blood Replenishing Potion from one of his bottomless pockets. He knew that he would not even consider to drink a pain reliever.
When he turned around again, Severus had steadied himself on his knees and he was no longer grabbing his side, but he still looked extremely weak. Good.
"Tell me everything, Severus," he commanded.
"I followed your instructions, my Lord," his vassal rushed to answer. "I went to the seventh floor and requested the room that held Ravenclaw's Diadem. A door appeared, but it was empty. I checked the entire room, but there was no trace of the diadem." Severus stopped to catch his breath. "I stepped out and tried formulating my request some other way, my Lord, but even though sometimes a door appeared I didn't find the diadem in any room. I apologize for my failure, master, perhaps I didn't formulate the request correctly. I can keep trying, if that is your wish."
"I wish to see everything," snapped Tom, coming to a stop in front of his subject and looking down on him. Severus raised his pained eyes to meet his.
"My mind is yours, my Lord," he said fervently, "I'm yours in body and soul."
Tom broke in much more forcefully than it was needed considering that Severus wasn't offering the slightest resistance. Clearly his debilitated state had weakened his mind as well. Before than any images, though, he came across an annoying condensation of emotions, mostly pain and fear and anguish. A sense of unfairness, of hard work punished instead of rewarded, a desperate plea for trust. Tom pushed all that away and searched ruthlessly for the memories he wanted.
He saw Severus raising wards on the seventh floor corridor, disillusionating himself, glancing at the tapestry. He revised each and every single thought he had while staring at the empty wall, something about wishes and his nasty father and external walls with incredible powers. Legilimency so detailed required a lot of energy and concentration, but Tom was determined to know everything. So he caught the words of the first formulation requested, saw the door... Tom's door. And then he saw the room... Tom's room. And the empty pedestal in the middle. He saw Severus explore every corner, cast multiple revealing spells, even ask out loud for the diadem while inside the room. He saw him step out and try other formulations. The place where is hidden Ravenclaw's Diadem; the lost Diadem of Ravenclaw; Rowena Ravenclaw's relic. The Dark Lord's hiding place, Tom Riddle's hiding place, Lord Voldemort's hiding place (Severus had flinched at that, and he flinched now again). Half of them produced the same door than before, and the same empty room. But whenever Severus asked simply for the diadem no door appeared.
I need a place with hidden things, Severus finally requested. And Tom could see another door, and another room... What the hell?
"What was that?" he demanded, pulling out abruptly. "That place."
Severus had lost balance at release and was now trying to get up while he rubbed his forehead.
"The last room?" he asked, rather stupidly. "It's what appeared when I asked for a general place where things are hidden, my Lord. It was as big as a cathedral, full of all sorts of objects that seemed to have been hidden there over the centuries. I confess I couldn't search the whole place, so I can't be sure the diadem isn't there, somewhere. A simple Summoning Charm didn't work, but with more time perhaps I could go through everything manually, my Lord, and make sure."
Tom saw his subject's eagerness to be on his way and keep searching the room, but he knew it would be pointless. The diadem was gone. Another piece of his soul, gone.
He had been so sure that it was a perfectly safe place to hide his Horcrux! He had thought no one knew about the room, and that even if someone knew they wouldn't know what to ask for. But clearly a lot of other people had known over the years and probably knew now. He had seen a Fanged Frisbee —a relatively new invention— in Severus' memory! And not only that. Apparently there was a formulation one could request that produced a room with everything that had ever been hidden in the room.
Anyone could have found the diadem in there and taken it away. Most likely Dumbledore, but not necessarily.
The diadem might even be intact somewhere, realized Tom. Unlikely, but possible.
"You may go, Severus," he dismissed him coldly as he moved to stand against a cracked window.
"Thank you, my Lord," said his still faithful servant, breathlessly climbing to his feet.
"I want Dumbledore gone within the week," hissed Tom with a warning tone. "Make sure it happens."
"As you command, my Lord."
Tom remained standing against the window for a long time after Severus had departed. No one except Nagini dared entering the room, of course.
When he turned around again he saw the pool of blood that Severus had left behind. The man usually cleaned after himself, but he must have been too weak or lightheaded to remember this time. Tom frowned at the blood.
He didn't feel remorse, but he wasn't pleased with himself. Severus had done nothing but to consistently demonstrate his loyalty. He had proven he could be trusted with the most delicate missions, and Tom needed him on his side now more than ever.
He knew that Severus would not betray him no matter how much he tortured him, but he really should stop torturing him. The man deserved to be rewarded, not punished.
He wasn't like the others.
"WORMTAIL!" he yelled.