AN: Thanks to cheeky-bear007 and Voldie on Varsity Track for reviewing!
Chapter Two: Many Meetings
Severus Snape pushed open the door to the staff room and walked in. He glanced around, taking in the teachers, and the curious absence of Dumbledore. He walked to his favorite arm chair and flopped down into it.
The door opened again and Firenze walked in, his hooves clipping the stone floor. He nodded at all the teachers and went to stand near the window, which was behind Snape's chair. The golden centaur nodded at Snape, and Snape returned the nod curtly.
The door swung open again and to Severus' displeasure, Trelawney walked in. The staff room fell silent as they stared at the fallen Divination teacher.
"Well, now all we need is Dumbledore," someone said. Silence reigned as the teachers looked uncomfortably at one another. It was rare that the two Divination teachers would attend. Sybil said it 'clouded her inner eye' and Firenze was slightly claustrophobic.
Snape laced his fingers together and observed silently. Ever since the end of Umbridge's reign of terror, tensions had been high and trust was hard to earn. He listened to the sound of their quickened breathing and waited.
He checked his watch. Dumbledore was late.
Dumbledore frowned at the mirror in front of him. He had looked in expecting to see himself, but instead had seen flames dancing wildly.
It did not bode well. Was Voldemort going to try something? He couldn't be sure. He glanced at his watch and started. He was late for the staff meeting that he had called.
He stood slowly and stretched. He was definitely beginning to feel old. He walked to his fireplace and grabbed some floo powder. He tossed it into the fire and stepped into it.
"Staff room!"
The flames behind Snape turned green and Albus Dumbledore was spat from the fireplace. Everyone looked at him in surprise. Dumbledore took his seat and looked gravely at everyone.
"Please forgive my lateness, I seem to be losing track of time," he whispered.
"As all we all," Flitwick muttered. The teachers shifted uncomfortably.
"I rarely call a meeting like this…but with my birthday coming up, I figured I should!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. Snape could have killed the man.
"I want to throw a big party…"
Snape quit listening. There really was no point. The man wanted a party, big deal. He stared into the distance, thinking of the potion he would have his advanced placement potions class make the next day.
He heard Firenze shift and he glanced at the centaur. Firenze rolled his eyes and shook his head. He wanted out as much as Snape. Snape leaned back in the chair and stared out into the distance out the window.
It was a sunny day, and he could see the specks that were students milling around below. He sighed, and Firenze echoed him. He knew the centaur hated being indoors unless he was in his special class room.
Snape felt himself growing drowsy, and he was suddenly very glad he could sleep with his eyes wide open.
Wormtail lay prone in front of his master, whimpering.
"How many times must I tell you? NEVER GO INTO THE VILLAGE!!" The high cold voice screamed. Wormtail winced and whimpered some more.
"That book, bring me that black book."
Wormtail stood shakily and walked over to the table. A single black book lay on it, with a gold inverted pentagram blazing on the front.
Wormtail handed it to his master.
"Yesss…Wormtail, roll up your sleeve, I must call them." Wormtail complied nervously. The Dark Mark stood out on his pale skin. His master reached out and stroked the mark.
Wormtail screamed. It burned! While his master stroked it, his master concentrated. He had discovered that he could call certain Death Eaters to him and leave the others out of the mess.
"Good." He held the book to his chest. "You may leave Wormtail."
Snape was asleep. Normally, falling asleep in a staff meeting was a bad idea, because one could never be to sure on when Dumbledore would make you do something extremely embarrassing.
He began to resurface, coming to slowly. Bits and pieces of what the old man was saying penetrated the fog surrounding his brain.
"And furthermore I'd like to-"
"SHIT!" Snape snarled, nearly flinging himself out of the chair. Everyone froze and stared at him.
"Severus?" Dumbledore asked softly, his blue eyes worried. Snape leapt to his feet and stormed from the room.
"I fear he will not be with us much longer. Flames lick his heart," Trelawney said. Firenze walked towards the door, scoffing at her.
"Keep your false prophesies to yourself, human." And Firenze cantered from the room.
Snape bolted to his private quarters and froze, panting. The statue of Salazar glared down at him.
"Password?"
"Mephistopheles."
The door slid open and Snape flung himself in. He ran to the closet and wrenched it open. On the top shelf was a black porcelain mask that covered all but his eyes. He slipped it on and walked to a small mirror. He touched it, felt the jerk behind his naval, and disappeared from the room.
Lucius Malfoy stood outside the Riddle House, waiting. There was a slight pop and the man he was waiting for arrived.
"Ah, Severus."
"What's going on, Lucius, the next Revel isn't for another week or so."
"I know, we are the only ones that have been called to His side," Lucius said, his words slightly muffled behind his own black mask.
The two men turned and walked calmly into the manor. Silence greeted them, not even the sound of Wormtail's snuffling could be heard. They walked to the library, Lord Voldemort's favorite room. Severus pushed the door open and they walked in.
"Ah, gentlemen, thank you for your quick response."
"Yes, my Lord," they whispered together. They walked forward and each kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes. Voldemort smiled serenely.
"If I remember correctly, you two were quite fascinated with the devil in you Hogwarts days."
"Yes my Lord."
Voldemort pulled out a book and handed it to Severus. Severus flipped the black book back and forth in his hands and stared at the blazing gold inverted pentagram.
"It can't be…" he whispered.
"Do you know what it is?" Voldemort whispered eagerly. "Tell me!"
"The Nine Gates of the Shadow Kingdom, volume Four," Severus said, gently caressing the book.
"Volume four?" Voldemort whispered. "There is more than one?"
"Nine, actually," Lucius replied, "One for each gate into hell."
"Explain," Voldemort ordered. The Death Eater's bowed their head.
"Supposedly, there are nine books, one for each gate, as Lucius said. Each book contains nine engravings."
"Who wrote the books?" Voldemort asked.
"The name of the man who wrote it is unknown, though it is believed that it was co-written with Lucifer himself."
"That man was later burned at the stake for practicing the black arts, however the books survived, scattered around the world to the 'faithful,'" Severus said. He opened the book and thumbed through the pages.
"Where did you get it, master?"
"It was in the darkest corner of the library. It calls to me, I want them all." He folded his long, pale fingers and stared at them. "And that is where you come in."
"Sir?"
"I want you to find all the books. But first, what do they do when you bring them together?"
"As I said, there are nine engravings in each book, though only one is the real engraving, drawn by Lucifer himself. When the nine true engravings are brought together and the right ritual is performed, the Dark Prince is summoned."
Voldemort smiled. "Find them."
"That will take time, my lord," Lucius said. "Many of the books have not been seen in near 600 years."
"Take all the time you need."
"My lord, to properly identify the right engravings, I will need your book." Severus said softly. Voldemort frowned.
"Why?"
"Because the engravings that are true will differ slightly from the others. I need to compare them."
"I see…You may keep it, Severus."
"Thank you my Lord."
"Do not fail me, Gentlemen. You know what happens when my followers fail…"
They bowed low. "Yes, my lord."
The two men disapparated with a pop.
They appeared in the study of the Malfoy manor. Lucius pulled his mask off and whisked his hair back.
"Well, that's it then, he's finally lost it."
Severus pulled his mask off and nodded. "I always thought these books were just imagined, I never dreamed that I would hold one."
"Indeed, but what are we going to do? For all we know, the entire series could be false."
"Don't say that, it might come true." The men fell into silence.
"Lucius, research rare book owners, see if anyone, Muggle or Wizard, has this book. If they do, find out who, and where."
"Right, what are you going to do?"
"Translate this, first off, then figure out what do from there."
"Sounds like a plan." Lucius clapped the taller man on the shoulder. "Good luck."
"You too," Severus said as he pulled out the small mirror. He touched it and disappeared.
Voldemort sat in his chair, staring at the books in front of him. He would have the Nine Gates. He would, and when he did, the world would be his.