Disclaimer – I don't own it, I am not making any money off of it, and I am not trying to infringe upon it.

Chapter 8 – The Trouble with Voldemort

"Arrgg…ark…aahhhh," Arthur Weasley choked on his pint of dark ale, at the mention of Tom Riddle's name.

Albus had been recounting the story of what he had seen in Severus' memories, to the elder Weasleys at the Burrow. He, Minerva and Remus were all in attendance, as of course was Sebastian, who looked up disgustedly when Arthur spluttered his beer all over him. It would have been hard to say which shocked the gentle Weasley patriarch more – the fact that Voldemort (whose name he still couldn't bring himself to say) had been involved with the child's missing powers or the knowledge that the cute little dark haired boy Albus had brought to Sunday Dinner was Professor Snape.

The Burrow was one of the most wonderful places on earth, if you asked Albus Dumbledore. Filled with love, and often laughter, the gods seemed to also have blessed it with a fruitfulness that few pureblood families could claim. And no matter who showed up they were always welcomed as if they were family, and correspondingly fed.

Albus gave Arthur a moment to recover as he watched Molly's most wonderful clock – allowing her to keep track of the whereabouts and well being of all of her brood. "I must get me several of those clocks – one for each House," thought the Headmaster to himself. "And place the names of all my students, present and former, on them. Then I shall sit in a chair for the remainder of my days, and watch the Slytherin clock, and find a way to will them all to stay out of harm's way."

Finally Arthur recovered himself and Molly went over and shut the door that led to the garden. At the moment Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Ron, were all outside, chatting in the sunshine, while the older adults sat around the large wooden table where they had just eaten a sumptuous meal. When it had ended, Arthur had passed out pints of ale, and they had finally gotten around to discussing the matter at hand.

Molly rejoined the table, and taking the edge of her apron, wiped the remaining dark brew from Severus' face. Then she too sat down.

After a moment of silence, and a large swig from his mug, Arthur asked the obvious question. "Alright then Albus, why tell us? We're flattered by your trust, of course, but you must have a reason?"

Albus nodded. Arthur may come off as a simple man, but he was bright by half, and it was that unsuspected intelligence that had made him such a valuable member of the Order.

"I want to reverse the magical binding. Put an end to the spell that has stripped Severus of what is rightfully his. But I need something from the Ministry that may take a bit of doing."

"Go on Headmaster," came Molly's voice from besides Arthur.

The older wizard leaned in towards the table and lowered his voice. No one outside of the table could hear him of course, but still, it didn't hurt to be careful. "I need Voldemort's wand."

"Arrgg…ark…aahhhh," Arthur choked on his ale again.

Severus this time dove under the table to avoid being rained upon. He made it just in time.

Molly patted Arthur sharply between the shoulder blades, as if she were trying to dislodge something more solid than beer. "Headmaster, that won't be possible. I believe they are still testing it. Trying to determine the curses and hexes he used and cataloguing them."

Arthur nodded in agreement. "It will be months before they are complete. Until then it will be under guard. And after they are finished, well, I wouldn't be surprised if they had it destroyed."

Albus sat back in his chair and sighed. Minerva put a comforting hand on his sleeve.

Remus looked over at the quizzical faces of the Weasleys and explained, "If the spell is to be reversed, we need the wands that created it. Albus found Augustus Snape's wand in Professor Snape's belongings. It must have been given to him by the Ministry after the investigation following his father's death. It was one of the few things he had from his father. But we need Riddle's wand as well or it won't work."

Arthur rubbed his balding head. "I wish I could help, Remus. If there was anyway to get near the thing, I would. But you know how they are with Death Eater things – and me being in Muggle Artifacts and all, they wouldn't even let me in the same room with it."

Albus nodded in understanding, and Remus launched the conversation in the direction of other alternatives.

It was at this moment that Severus chose to reemerge from his hiding spot. He looked around and saw that the adults were still chatting. Then, trying to be as innocuous as possible, he crawled to the doorway. He had been trying all morning to get out the open door to the garden, but each time someone noticed and returned him to the kitchen. Now that the midday meal was through, he had apparently decided another try was in order.

This time however he found the door to the garden shut, and looked around for another plan. There was an open window on the other side of the room and he crawled as low to the ground as he could, carefully skirting the table. Albus carefully watched his charges' movements from the corner of his eye, as did Minerva, while the other three Order members continued to chat on about alternative possibilities for ending the spell.

When Severus reached the window, he pushed himself onto a nearby chair, then onto a countertop, and over to the low window ledge. Albus was about to retrieve the child when Minerva caught his eye. "Allow me," she sent telepathically. An activity that most of the teachers had now ceased, but Albus and Minerva were still occasionally enjoying.

Without even getting up Minerva waved her wand in Severus' direction and he promptly floated back to the floor. The toddler looked about him, wonderingly, but seeing nothing, began to climb the chair again. Once on the window ledge Minerva again levitated him back to the floor. Severus clenched his small fists in annoyance and immediately began his ascent again.

"And I thought Gryffindors were the stubborn ones," Minerva transmitted to Albus. And again she transported the small boy to the floor.

When Severus lifted his small frame back onto the chair for the fourth time, Minerva muttered, "Enough is enough." With a two quick flicks of her wand, Severus returned to the floor and promptly jumped, throwing his hands behind him and scowling in every direction, looking for the culprit.

Albus chuckled, he would never have smacked the boy like that, but Minerva was cut from a different cloth than he. And while he didn't really believe in the sort of discipline she had just used, Minerva had managed to turn an unruly and difficult House into the pride of Hogwarts during her run as the head of Gryffindor. She apparently knew something more than he did about handling difficult children.

Finally Severus's eyes settled on Minerva as his most likely suspect and she didn't in the least deny it. "Go up on the chair again, laddy," she said sternly, staring directly into Severus' scowling face, and turning on her thick Scottish brogue, "and you'll only get more of the same."

For a moment the two of them engaged in a staring contest, a battle between an immovable object and an irresistible force, thought Albus bemusedly. Then finally the toddler dropped his stare and went off to sit under the table again. "Well, it was fitting that you would win Minerva," mused Albus. "After all, "Live to fight another day', is practically the Slytherin motto."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "If you took firmer control of the lad I wouldn't be forced to do it for you."

Albus shook his head sadly. "No, my dear. Not if you saw what I saw."

This time it was Molly Weasley, who had overheard that last bit of conversation, that reached a comforting hand across the table to Albus. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall had reached underneath the table, and had laid a comforting hand on top a small dark head.

*****

Albus was sitting in his office, trying to work out his yearly budget request to the schools' Board of Governors, when Phineas arrived back into his portrait frame, trying to look for all the world like he hadn't just been running.

"The hero and his friends," he sniffed, "are on their way up with Sebastian." Phineas then sat down in his portrait chair and adopted a disinterested pose by pretending to be examining his nails.

Albus smiled. Ever since he had placed another of the former Slytherin Headmaster's portraits in the Entrance Hall, Phineas had been doing as good a job as any sentry Albus could have employed.

"Well Phineas, did Sebastian seem tired? Harry, Hermione and Ronald have had him out and about all morning."

"Humph, how would I know? Am I his nanny now?" Phineas made a few discomforting noises and rolled his eyes a bit for effect. Then he scowled at Albus, but it wasn't a true scowl. His eyes were smiling. "Perhaps he looked a little bit knackered," he conceded. Then he stood up and once again left his frame.

Albus opened the door just as the foursome arrived. Hermione handed an exhausted child to the Headmaster, who laid the boy in a large chair by the hearth.

"He only lets her carry him," explained Ron, attempting to cover his embarrassment that Hermione had to be the one to carry Severus up all those steps.

Albus waved off his explanation. "Let's have some tea, shall we?"

A house elf was summoned, and everyone present was careful to use their best manners when ordering the tea so as not to upset Hermione. When they were all settled, Harry spoke.

"Sir, I've been thinking while I watched Sebastian this morning, about his voice."

"Yes, Harry?"

"A week ago, when Hermione had me reading all those psychology books, I saw something that might fit. It seems sometimes when someone has seen something traumatic - like a car crash, or maybe a fire - they suffer shock. And sometimes they lose their voice. Some people have even lost their sight for a while. I read it happens a lot to soldiers in wartime."

"Are you serious, man?" Ron asked, surprised. "They can go mute, or even blind?"

Harry nodded. Then the Headmaster did too. "I have heard of such things Harry, and it is entirely plausible that this is what happened to Sebastian. He was able to speak prior to the incantation, but not after. I assumed it had something to do with the spell, but this makes more sense. Eventually I suppose his ability to speak returned, once those memories receded far enough into the past."

It was Hermione's turn to speak. "Headmaster, why would He-Who-Should….oh, pardon, I mean Voldemort, agree to help Severus' father?"

The Headmaster sighed. "Mr. Riddle had a significant amount of businesses that dealt with the Dark Arts. He usually preferred to keep a low profile. A silent partner if you will. It is how he was able to make most of his initial contacts when he finally decided to remake himself as Lord Voldemort. Riddle was one of Augustus' business partners. I would surmise he asked for Tom's assistance when he realized that his son was becoming a threat to his well being."

A rustling sound caused all eyes too look up. "Your pet werewolf will be arriving momentarily."

"Thank you, Phineas."

A moment later Remus arrived grinning. He declined an offer of a cup of tea and paced the room – a man with something clearly on his mind. He paused briefly in front of the chair with the now sleeping boy and smiled down at him. "I like him this way best," he said with a laugh.

Harry and Ron laughed too, but Hermione and Albus did not. "I don't know," said Hermione carefully. "He's really a good sort, he's just had a hard time of it."

"Yeah," frowned Ron, "and then he went and gave everyone else a hard time of it too."

"Did, Ron, did," Hermione defended. "He's just a baby now."

The Headmaster cleared his throat, and Ron blushed, having forgotten whom he was speaking in front of. Then Albus turned his gaze on Remus. "Did you have something you wanted to say, Remus?"

Remus stopped his pacing. "I think I know how we can do without Voldemort's wand." All eyes turned to him expectantly and Remus smiled broadly. "We can use Harry's wand instead!"

"My wand?" Harry spluttered.

"Of course," cried Hermione happily, "Why didn't I think of that? Harry, your wand and Voldemort's wand are brother wands. If any other wand has a chance to work it would be yours."

Albus smiled. "An excellent suggestion, Remus. I think you may have something there. Perhaps I can impose upon you to let the others know we may have found a solution? We'll meet here in two days. That will give Ms. Granger, Harry and I a chance to gather everything we need.'

Remus agreed and they all bid good afternoon to Albus and headed on their way, the gentle werewolf promising to buy them all lunch at the Three Broomsticks.

Albus picked up the child and carried him to the nursery, laying him carefully in his cot and pulling the curtains tight shut so the boy's nap would not be disturbed by the mid afternoon sun.

Then he returned to the main office and stroked Fawkes chest feathers for a bit, deep in thought. Finally he approached the portrait, which to his surprise, was fast becoming his favorite former Headmaster.

"Tell me Phineas, from a Slytherin perspective, if Mr. Riddle knew of Sebastian's powers, why would he not try to make use of those abilities when the boy joined his cause?"

Phineas snorted. "The question you should be asking is why Riddle did not just kill him. Indeed I think it quite the bit of luck for young Sebastian that all that befell him was a binding spell. Powerful as that might be. "

At the current Headmaster's confused look Phineas sighed and shook his head. "Be sensible man, why should someone who fancies himself to be the most powerful wizard in the world, allow another man who is clearly even more powerful than himself, access to that power? As I said, if as you reported he was the simple victim of a spell, than that can only be thought of as good fortune."

"I suppose," agreed Albus reluctantly. It was hard to think of what Severus went through as 'good fortune', but it was better than Severus' death. Perhaps Tom had not developed the ability to kill so easily when Severus was a child? Or perhaps he wasn't secure enough yet to think he wouldn't be caught. And later, he was invaluable to Voldemort as both a Potion's Master and as a spy.  Still, knowing how maniacally jealous the Dark Lord was, it was indeed lucky that the boy was even alive.

"He should have recruited Gryffindors, you know."

Albus looked up, the figure in the portrait was now sitting in his chair, relaxed, with his legs crossed. "What are you getting at Phineas?" the Headmaster asked wearily.

"Riddle. He was a fool. If he had half a brain he would have recruited Gryffindors. They are easily riled, willing to break the rules, and best of all – loyal to a fault. Oh, sure, there are a few mutinous ones in every group, but by and large they would have done him well. Instead he recruits Slytherins. Each one constantly plotting how they can get the upper hand and dispose of the Death Eater above him. Sheer idiocy on Riddle's part. No wonder you were able to beat him."

"Thank you for that high praise, Phineas. Good day."

And with that the Headmaster went back to his desk and his budget requests. His thoughts however, never veered much from the sleeping child in the next room over.

Authors note:

To all of you who asked why Voldemort did not try to use Severus' powers, I hope this chapter answers your questions. I had thought quite a bit about that. As for other things you may be wondering, I am hopeful that I will get most of the questions you may be having answered before I end this story. Believe me, I have over thought this fic. But off course I don't mind you asking at all - keeps me on my toes, and you never know, I could miss something. So feel free to ask away.

Thanks for all your lovely reviews. Keep them coming!!!!!