The (Mis)adventures of the "Death Eaters"
Declaimer: Oh, how I wish I owned Harry Potter... I don't.
Severus Snape Wonders
Saturday morning found Severus Snape at the window of the Death Eater's headquarters. He had caught up on sleep, a chance he didn't get very often, working at Hogwarts. Yesterday, he was woken at 4 o'clock in the morning by Argus Filch, who was asked by Madam Pomfrey to deal with a student who had somehow got poisoned in the middle of the night. Madam Pomfrey had done her best for the last two hours, but it was of no avail. Snape, who was not a morning person, couldn't un-poison the student for a whole hour, probably due to the fact that he didn't remember to put newt juice in the antidote for the first half an hour.
Well, Severus Snape was not wondering about poisoned students, he was wondering how Voldemort had become so threatening and famous. He must have done something. He was, and there was no other way to say it, incredibly stupid. Snape, despite being surprisingly modest, had to admit that he himself was about ten times more intelligent. And he was right. Voldemort had never showed a trace of real intelligence. He had failed to spot the fact that all Dark Lords were defeated, had no clear idea of how to spell "phoenix", but admittedly neither did Snape nor any of the Death Eaters. But a great and horror-inspiring Dark Lord should be able to remember the name of his greatest enemy, and not think it was Halibut.
What could Voldemort have done? Snape decided to ask him. Snape was smart enough not to say "What did you do to become so famous? You're amazingly stupid." Instead he knocked politely on his master's door.
"Enter!" Voldemort said in his most imposing voice. "Ah, Snape, do sit down,"
"I wanted to ask you," Snape asked, sinking into a high armchair, "How did you become a Dark Lord?"
Voldemort looked slightly shifty. "Well," he said, "I'll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell anyone,"
"I promise," Snape promised, fascinated.
"You see, I did something at school that no one else has done before,"
"What?" Snape asked, interested in Voldemort's terrible secret.
"I listened during History of Magic," Voldemort confessed.
Snape was dumbfounded for a moment. He couldn't imagine listening to Binns. "So... how did that help you?" he asked, still mystified.
"Well, in our sixth year, Binns told us about a Dark Lord named Nimbron, who lived in the fifteenth century. He was a terrible tyrant, and everyone feared him. So that's where I got the idea. I went to the library's restricted section and did some research on him. I found a book written by him, How to be a Dark Lord, and I followed the advise exactly, and as you can see, it worked."
"That must be one useful book," Snape said.
"Yes, it was, until I burned it," Voldemort said, lying through his teeth. The one thing Voldemort was most accomplished at, was lying. And Snape didn't want to risk Legilimancy.
Snape looked disgruntled. However, he instantly pretended not to be. "I greatly appreciate your trust in me, my lord," he said, and went out.
Voldemort, meanwhile went upstairs to his bedroom, crawled under the huge bed, took out a large book, and petted it fondly. Then he looked at a random page. He saw a peace of advise about being a Dark Lord he had never noticed before. "Never tell any of your minions about this book." Voldemort looked at it in horror.
"Oh, now I've messed up," he exclaimed.
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