A/N: Sorry for the delay! Voldemort's POV turned out to be more complicated to write than I had expected. Not difficult, exactly, but mentally taxing due to the sheer amount of strategic thinking involved. There was also a lot of canon explaining and reframing to do, and both Voldemort's personality and relationship with Severus to define. I ended up having to split Voldemort's POV into several long chapters, so you'll be stuck with me inside this evil mastermind for a while.
Feedback is deeply appreciated, as always.
...
Voldemort part one.
Chapter 17
Tom caressed the soft leather cover of the diary, feeling the subtle pull on his soul and wondering what would happen if he wrote in it. Would he reabsorb the Horcrux or fuse with it somehow? Would his younger Self try to possess him? Horcruxes were supposed to be naturally subordinated to the main soul piece, but Tom had devised this one as a weapon, and it was hard to believe that any sentient part of him would ever accept a subservient position in relation to any other entity. His 16-year old Self no doubt would be eager to occupy his older body if he knew how powerful Tom had grown to be, and he probably would be so disappointed in his future Self for not having managed to kill Dumbledore yet that he would try to take over and handle the matter himself.
Torn between irritation and amusement at the thought of his own Horcrux considering itself better than him, Tom twirled the diary between his fingers and tried to decide what to do with it. He had entrusted it to Abraxas many years ago, seduced by the idea of having a part of his soul hidden in the heart of pureblood society, and he had trusted Lucius to continue keeping it safe when he had become the new head of the Malfoy family, but it would be foolish not to move his Horcrux to a more secure location now. Lucius didn't know what the diary was, but he knew it was important to Lord Voldemort so he undoubtedly would take it to the negotiation table if despite Severus' precautions he tried to make a deal with Dumbledore.
"Such a disappointment," murmured Tom, looking down at the twitching body lying at his feet and barely resisting the urge to subject it to another round of torture.
It had been a mistake to expect Lucius to become his new Abraxas, just as it would be a mistake to expect Rodolphus and Rabastan to be proper replacements for their father. Roderick had done a better job with his sons than Abraxas with Lucius, toughing them up and instilling unwavering loyalty into them, but still... they were not the same. All his original Death Eaters were gone, when was he going to accept that? That accursed Dragon Pox epidemic a few years ago had taken most of them from him, and the rest had gotten themselves killed. His current Death Eaters would be gone someday too, and who knew what the next generation would bring...
Tom pursed his lips. While simple soldiers were easy to come by and mould, just thinking about having to find replacements for his current lieutenants put him in a very bad mood. Talented and intelligent natural leaders with a propensity to darkness and convenient personal issues to exploit were not easy to come by, and it took a lot of work and dedication to shape them into efficient subjects of unbreakable loyalty. Lucius hadn't been one of those carefully groomed acquisitions —he had simply inherited Abraxas' favoured position—, so even though it was annoying to be one lieutenant short Tom wasn't too bothered by the loss, but it would be a much more infuriating matter to find himself in need of replacements for Bellatrix, Evan or Severus —all three gifted individuals whose abilities and devotion he had spent years cultivating. Especially Severus. Tom knew that he was going to grow bored of Bellatrix or have his patience tried one too many times and kill her himself eventually, and capable and reliable as Evan was he wasn't a magical prodigy so his death would not be such a calamity, but Severus... losing him would be a heavy blow. Tom had no doubt that any children his gifted disciple produced would be powerful, even if they had a filthy Mudblood for a mother, and that Severus would raise and train them to be valuable subjects worthy of standing by his side too, but still... they would not be the same.
No one could ever replace Severus.
He was distracted from his musings by a muffled groan that suggested Lucius was finally waking up from his pain-induced nap. While he waited for his former lieutenant to recover enough awareness and mobility to scramble back to a kneeling position, Tom returned his attention to the diary in his hands and again considered what to do with it. The safest course would be to hide it in some remote location, like the locket or the ring, but this Horcrux in particular had never been meant to stay forever hidden. While its original purpose had been to ensure that the Chamber of Secrets would be reopened and Slytherin's noble work resumed some day in the future, Tom was now more interested in the resurrection possibilities that this Horcrux offered. Of course it would not be the ideal way of returning if he ever lost his body, but if the worst came to happen Tom would prefer to have his 16-year-old Self back to flesh, able and hopefully willing to assist the main soul piece, than to not exist in corporeal form at all. For that, the diary must remain accessible, and he should leave it in the hands of some loyal servant who wasn't too likely to end up in Azkaban if everything fell apart. Severus would be a good candidate, since he enjoyed Dumbledore's protection, but considering that if Severus were free in that scenario he would go straight to Albania to help Tom it seemed rather redundant to give him the diary.
Besides, Severus might not enjoy Dumbledore's protection for much longer. It was getting more and more dangerous every day to send him back to Hogwarts, and now that Flamel had joined the game too... Perhaps Tom should play it safe and keep Severus by his side from now on, especially considering that he intended to entrust him with a piece of his soul —which was another reason why he should give the diary to someone else, by the way: Tom didn't want to hide or entrust more than one Horcrux in any given place or to any one person, in case some hideout or safe-keeper was ever compromised. And he had already decided that Severus should have the honour of guarding his last Horcrux, so-
"Please, my Lord," begged Lucius weakly, having finally managed to climb back to his knees. "Mercy..."
Tom regarded Abraxas' weak son with utter disdain. He had barely tortured him, but the delicate aristocrat was imploring as if he had been writhing in torment for days instead of mere minutes. Pathetic. Severus wouldn't have screamed nor even lost his balance if he had been subjected to the same treatment, and it definitely took a lot more than a little pain to make him beg for mercy. Not that it was often necessary to discipline Severus with more than just a few stern words, of course, nor that he had ever given Tom too serious reasons to punish him. Severus had always required close watch and firm handling, but unlike most others he had never entertained half a treacherous thought, and except for that one time when he had poisoned Bellatrix all his other infractions had been minor; trivial things like deflowering the daughter or sister of a fellow Death Eater without provocation, or ignoring summons in favour of indulging his cock, or getting into fights with his brothers over their dishonoured wives. At one point crucioing him had seemed like the only way to curb his dangerously out-of-control sex drive, and Tom had had to go really hard on him to make sure he understood the importance of self-restraint.
He sighed. Just when Severus had finally stopped screwing everything female within Apparition range Tom had had the brilliant idea of giving him the one woman he couldn't stop screwing even in the middle of a serious war crisis. Although by all accounts Severus had been the only one who had kept his head while everyone else freaked out during the crisis, and his priorities seemed to still be in the right order —or at least he hadn't gone back to ignore summons or neglect his duties yet—, so perhaps Tom didn't have to worry about his lustful disciple spiralling out of control again...
"Please, my Lord," pleaded Lucius for the tenth time. "Grant me another chance to prove my loyalty, I beg you. I will not disappoint you again. Please..."
Tom rose from the ancestral throne-like armchair he had claimed for himself and pocketed the Horcrux before beginning another slow stroll around the Malfoy sitting room. After having thoroughly examined Lucius' mind, he craved to cut his treacherous lieutenant to little pieces, but he hesitated to even punish him too harshly. Severus hadn't expressly said so, but it was obvious that he wanted his disloyal friend to be spared, and Tom couldn't ignore that wish knowing how badly Severus took losing people he was personally attached to. He clung to them even if they abandoned or betrayed him, and he went into crisis if he thought they were beyond recovery, like when Eileen Prince had died or when the Mudblood girl had gotten married. Even the long awaited murder of his filthy muggle father had inexplicably messed him up, and he had gone on a reckless killing spree after Wilkes' death. Of course Tom knew how to handle those crises, and Severus usually ended up more attached to him so it was worth all the drama, but he didn't think wise to trigger a crisis himself by killing someone Severus felt possessive or protective about. Not wanting to risk the resentment of his touchy subject had been the main reason why Tom had agreed to spare the Mudblood, and especially after having seen in Lucius' mind how Severus had reacted to the girl's suicide attempt he congratulated himself for having managed to keep that promise despite his murderous irritation at the time. Although that decision was causing so much trouble now that he wondered if it had been a mistake...
He stopped in front of the window and shook his head to himself. No, it had not been a mistake to spare the girl; the mistake had been to let Severus claim her in front of everyone instead of giving him his reward in private and keeping the whole affair confidential. Tom had wanted the insolent Mudblood thoroughly humiliated and shamed, and the occasion had definitely warranted a special celebration, but that little show had considerably increased Severus' risk of exposure. It had been bad enough that everyone had been aware of his identity and position as a spy next to Dumbledore; now even the lowest, weakest, greenest Death Eater knew that Severus was holding captive a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and as a result selling him out had become the favourite thought amongst wannabe traitors.
A cold wave of rage went through his entire body and increased the pressure inside his skull, making him see red.
"CRUCIO!"
Lucius had been again reduced to a twitching heap on the fancy carpet when Tom belatedly remembered that Severus had urged him to go easy on the Dark Magic for a few more days. He rolled his eyes, telling himself that he had not lifted the Cruciatus for that reason. His splinching wound was almost completely healed, and he had been off the anti-curse Elixir for over two days without suffering a relapse nor any unexpected side-effects so plainly Flamel's counter-course had been genuine. Tom could admit that he wasn't fully recovered yet and that some physical activities might be best avoided for a few more days, but he was convinced that at this point there was absolutely no valid medical reason why he should go easy on any kind of magic. Severus was just a fretting fool compensating for his unnecessary anxiety by being overly cautious —if it had been for him Tom would not have left his bed at all for at least a week and he probably would not have been cleared to climb stairs or apparate until Christmas.
He shook his head, torn between fondness and annoyance. Severus barely took care of his own health, and he routinely ignored most Apparition recommendations out of sheer rebelliousness, but when it came to his master he fussed like a mother hen and would not hear of taking any risks. For all his stoicism and level-headedness, Severus had freaked out just as badly as Bellatrix, and due to his abandonment issues no amount of reassurance seemed to be enough to ease his anxiety. Even knowing that his master could not really die he kept looking at him like a lost puppy whenever they were alone, touching him at every available opportunity as if to make sure he was still solid, insisting in that Lord Voldemort should always have an escort wherever he went...
Tom shook his head again, berating himself for having neglected his most valuable asset. He had been so busy and preoccupied this past year, making preparations to take over the Ministry and obsessing about the Prophecy, that he had failed to notice that Severus was not doing so well without him. It had been a long time since the last crisis, and his stolid subject had seemed a lot more self-reliant lately, so Tom had thought they were done with all the neediness, but plainly Severus had only been pretending to be fine separated from his master. It was also obvious that he resented to be stuck in Hogwarts teaching children and faking remorse while Bellatrix was here training recruits and practicing Dark Magic all day long, and that being less involved and informed than his fellow lieutenants because of his position next to Dumbledore frustrated him and made him feel left out. Severus understood why his job as a spy was important and why Tom didn't share everything with him, but clearly understanding didn't stop him from perceiving the whole situation as an unfair punishment.
He sighed. Sometimes it was exhausting to handle such a complicated subject. Unlike Bellatrix or Evan, who were relatively low-maintenance followers, Severus required constant attention, reassurance and affirmation. Tom had to make sure that he never felt abandoned, uncared for, unprotected, unfairly treated, excluded, mistrusted, betrayed or replaced. He must be careful to avoid his resentment, think twice before breaking any promises made to him, encourage and support his insane projects, manage his needs, desires and fixations... Severus had been away most of the time this past year, pretty much handling himself and not demanding special attention when he was summoned nor during the holidays, so Tom had lost the habit of looking after him and dealing with his issues, but it had been dangerously careless to assume that he no longer needed constant monitoring and maintenance. Of course his hypersensitive disciple was more likely to kill himself than to turn against his master if he felt neglected, but especially now it would be foolish to risk either possibility, and Severus was more efficient and less likely to act out when he was emotionally stable so it was worth a little extra care.
Tom looked down at Lucius' inert body with distaste. If he had managed not to kill the girl, he could refrain from murdering this spineless traitor. Not only it was unwise to take from his possessive subject anything he was attached to, Severus definitely deserved another reward after last weekend, and if keeping his 'friend' was what he wanted... It wasn't as if Lucius would go unpunished. Severus might obsessively cling to people who hurt or betrayed him, but he never forgot an offense, and he was extremely vindictive so Lucius would be in for a very thorough and lengthy retribution —drugging his child, expropriating him of his house-elf and locking him out of Headquarters had undoubtedly been just small samples of what he had in store for the proud Malfoy.
And who knew? Perhaps Severus would be more successful than Abraxas had been shaping Lucius into a loyal subject. He had already begun working on him, and while clearly he had not managed to dissolve Lucius' insulting doubts about Lord Voldemort, he did seem to have earned his unconditional trust and personal allegiance, to the point that Lucius was grateful rather than resentful for what Severus had done to protect his family from his own stupidity. It was infuriating to know that his own subject had more faith in his powerful friend than in his master, but Tom supposed it didn't make much of a difference given that Severus was devoted to him and therefore anyone who followed Severus was indirectly following him.
And it might actually be a good idea to let Severus have his own followers. It seemed like the right time to move forward and give his dark apprentice another taste of true power...
The drillings were still going on in the inner courtyard when Tom returned to Headquarters. He noticed with satisfaction that Severus seemed to have already finished his work with the Wilson kid, though, who was sitting in a corner surrounded by corpses and staring at his hands as if they were literally covered in blood. Tom was even more pleased when Evan informed him that Severus had only had to demonstrate each Unforgivable Curse once, and that by the sixth victim the boy had already been so enthralled that he had crucio'd the Muggle to death on his own initiative instead of finishing it off with the Killing Curse. Clearly the problem had not been the recruit, but the mentor. Severus was much more patient and persuasive than Bellatrix, and he understood darkness so well that he barely needed Legilimency to easily figure out how to corrupt the most virtuous person.
"Why is the boy still here?" asked Tom, examining the new murderer critically. "He should be fucking something right now."
"That's what Severus said," agreed Evan. "He arranged it and all, but he was waiting for you to approve it, my Lord."
Tom pursed his lips in annoyance. Severus knew that after the first kill the subject must be rewarded immediately, especially if it was a difficult case like Wilson. If there was a woman available —and there were always women (and boys) ready for use in Headquarters—, he should have directly taken care of it instead of waiting for his master to approve such basic reinforcement.
Although Severus was only authorized to hand out punishments, not rewards, so he wasn't really at fault for the delay...
"Should I send the kid up, my Lord?" inquired Evan hesitantly. "Severus said that he gave the girl precise instructions and put her in a room in the first floor. It's all ready."
Tom sighed. It was near impossible to stay annoyed when the subject that annoyed him was almost annoyingly efficient.
"Yes, send him up," he confirmed, certain that Severus must have selected the most suitable woman for this particular boy as well as given her a list of things she should or shouldn't do or say. "But make sure he knows not to ignore his Mark when it burns. I will be calling a general meeting in about an hour."
Too many of the Death Eaters he came across while he continued his way through Headquarters lowered their guilty eyes, dropped to their knees in exaggerated submissiveness, or scurried away like frightened rats, but Tom did his best to ignore them for now. Severus had already checked most of his brothers' minds and taken measures to keep the potential traitors from following through with their treacherous intentions, so it wasn't urgent to deal with the rats personally; Tom might not even have to deal with all of them, since many of the cases of disloyalty were minor and had been already corrected or would be corrected by the time he got around to examine their minds himself (which was good, because he might murder half his subjects otherwise).
Being able to delegate tasks that involved advanced Legilimency was probably the biggest perk of having Severus at his service, and yet another reason why he was considering to keep his talented subject by his side from now on. Everything was so much easier and ran more smoothly when Severus was here to take care of tasks Tom didn't have time or patience for and that he couldn't entrust to anyone else, either because his other lieutenants lacked the required skills or because the tasks required careful judgement or a forceful personality to execute them. Severus was certainly the only one besides himself who could handle that thrice-accursed giantess Fridwulfa; who could break the most stubborn prisoners and seduce the most hesitant recruits; who could unravel the best guarded minds in search of critical secrets or subtle signs of disloyalty. His mere presence in Headquarters was useful to keep everyone on their toes, even as it made everyone feel more secure due to his moderating effect over Tom, and if last Saturday had served for something had been to prove that Severus could be relied upon to make solid operational and strategic decisions in Tom's place, which was a compelling reason to involve him in the running of the Organization full-time.
Perhaps he should give Severus permission to supervise rewards too, reflected Tom when he walked past the door behind which must be waiting the girl —the cherry blonde Squib, if he had to guess— charged with Wilson's pleasure. The whole point of having a carefully-trained right-hand man was to not have to make or approve every little decision himself —something that was becoming more and more unfeasible the more his rule expanded—, but he would never be able to fully delegate if Severus didn't have enough authority to work autonomously. As a general rule Tom didn't allow his lieutenants to give rewards, partly because he couldn't trust them not to play favourites and partly so his Death Eaters would expect positive things only from him, but considering that Severus was like an extension of himself it would make sense that he had as much influence over his subordinates as Tom had. And perhaps if his fellow Death Eaters saw him as another source of rewards instead of just another source of punishments they would be less inclined to betray him, especially when they realized that Severus could be very generous to those who pleased him and showed him the proper respect.
He should also consider to extend Severus' security clearance so he could handle top secret agents without limitations, reflected Tom further. Fortunately there was nothing to regret on that front, but it had proven to be a dangerous vulnerability the fact that none of his lieutenants was authorized to unmask certain Death Eaters. Bellatrix was mentoring the Crouch boy, so she had been able to clear him before he could escape the lockdown, but Severus had had to let the others leave without a loyalty check-up, which could have easily ended in disaster given Wormtail's fickle nature and his personal history with the mudblood girl. If the treacherous rat weren't so viscerally afraid of ending up like Karkaroff or being torn apart by an angry werewolf Severus would be in Azkaban right now, and Tom would be rushing all his plans in order to break him out before the Dementor exposure could mess him up too much.
Tom stopped in the middle of a corridor and pressed two fingers between his eyes while he fought another wave of murderous rage. Due to Severus' annoying restrictions he still hadn't punished Wormtail nor anyone else besides Lucius —whom he had barely crucio'd—, and he was convinced that so much repressed fury was having far worse effects on his health than any amount of Dark Magic ever could. He needed an outlet, but Severus had restricted rough sex, duelling and physical violence too so his self-control was being seriously put to the test for the first time in decades. It helped to know that most of his disloyal subjects had already been severely punished, but a few cases like Wormtail or Lucius were out of his lieutenants' jurisdiction and therefore had been put on hold until Tom could deal with them in person. Even now that he was cleared (by himself, if not by Severus) to use Dark Magic, he was frustrated because he couldn't afford to kill nor go too hard on either of them. Especially not Pettigrew, who was still useful and whose loyalty was much harder to secure than Lucius' —someone who had betrayed his closest friends would likely let his own mother die, so taking hostages would be ineffective in his case.
His anger was considerably assuaged by the certainty that Wormtail would come to deeply regret having entertained even for a second the thought of ratting out Severus to free the girl from his yoke, but knowing that he couldn't afford to sacrifice the rat yet also made Tom remember why he couldn't inform his grudge-bearing disciple about his fellow spy. Severus would probably manage not to kill him, since Pettigrew wasn't by far the worst Marauder and would grovel at his superior's feet instead of challenging him like Sirius Black would have done, but he would resent his master for forcing him to coexist with one of his old tormentors instead of giving him leave to crucio him to death. Considering how he had taken the fake news about Black, though, it might be wise to tell him before he found out some other way. Tom doubted Severus allowed his pet to emit any sounds besides screams and moans, but he might stumble upon the true Secret Keeper during some random exploration of her mind, or he might learn about Black while checking the loyalty of some of the Death Eaters involved in the framing —it was only luck that he hadn't had any reason to legilimize either the Lestranges or Dolohov during the crisis—, and then he would feel betrayed, deceived, maybe even mocked...
Tom sighed. Severus would probably have a crisis when confronted with the realization that his master had had three Marauders in his power and chosen to protect Pettigrew, murder Potter himself and send Black to Azkaban instead of giving all of them to him to torture like he had once promised. He knew that Severus would understand why he hadn't been told, and that he would grudgingly agree with his master's strategic decisions, but Tom still would rather delay that particular conversation at least until Wormtail could deliver the wolf, which would go a long way towards convincing Severus that the rat was more useful alive than dead at least for now. It would also help that it was only thanks to Pettigrew that Severus had his precious Mudblood chained to his bed now, and no doubt he would appreciate enough what had been done to Black as to be willing to forgive all the secrecy and maybe even be satisfied with leaving him to rot in Azkaban forever.
As to Potter... Severus didn't seem to resent Tom for killing his most hated enemy, so perhaps giving him the woman as well as permission to burn the corpse had been enough to assuage his thirst for revenge on that account. That was good, but still Tom regretted not to have captured Potter alive, since he would have liked to see what his vindictive disciple did with that jerk —Severus probably would have kept him prisoner for months or years, subjecting him to regular torture and forcing him to watch how he repeatedly pleasured and inseminated the girl. After his recent exploration of Lucius' mind Tom was also considering that perhaps he shouldn't have wiped out another pureblood lineage, and he wished he had thought to spare James Potter and give him to Severus with the condition that he was not to kill him nor castrate him until the blood-traitor had produced a proper heir. Locking that defiant prick with some pureblood witch and encouraging him to breed while his mudblood wife watched from her place at Severus' feet would have definitely been more entertaining than simply murdering him.
The irresistible idea of dealing with other blood-traitors in such a satisfying way completely scattered his thoughts for a few moments, but as his feet began to move again his mind cooled down and went back to ponder security issues —which was all he seemed to be doing since his near discorporation. Tom really should have thought about all this stuff before. For all his concern about death and the Prophecy, he had never seriously considered the preposterous possibility that someone might ever manage to kill him, so until a few days ago he hadn't even contemplated how he would return to a body if he died unexpectedly. The Horcruxes had been intended as a long-term health insurance, a safeguard to protect him from human weakness in the form of natural death and illness —if he ever grew too old or was affected by an incurable disease he could simply gulp down some painless poison and transfer his main soul to a new body—, but he should have made contingency plans for an accidental or violent death long ago. Just as he should have considered what would happen with all his followers and projects if he disappeared for any amount of time.
There had been far too much improvisation and gambling involved in the management of this first major crisis. Severus' quick thinking and firm leadership had kept everything from falling apart while Tom was incapacitated, but he should have had a clear protocol to follow instead of just his gut, and he should have been acting legitimately as Lord Voldemort's second-in-command instead of self-proclaiming himself provisionally in charge and hoping the others would go along. That was another point Tom needed to clarify: the chain of command. Bellatrix had let herself be slapped and bossed around by Severus the other day because she had been hysterical and frightened out of her wits, but if Tom had 'died' she would have eventually recovered from the shock and tried to take control, or she would have done something stupid like getting herself captured or killed attempting to avenge her master. It was important that in that scenario she acknowledged Severus as her superior and obeyed his orders without question, and that her support was plain for everyone to see —Severus was powerful, certainly more than any other individual Death Eater, but not enough yet to be able to keep everyone in line without the cooperation of his fellow lieutenants and their allies. Lucius would likely follow him like a grateful puppy from now on, and Evan had long understood and accepted that Severus was being groomed for a higher position so he would not dispute it, but Bellatrix would not subordinate herself easily to her half-blood rival... or at least that's what Tom had thought until recently. The dynamic between those two seemed to be changing, however, some sort of truce having been agreed upon after the events of last Saturday, and there was a tension in the air now whenever they were both in the same room that wasn't exactly hostile.
Tom chuckled softly under his breath. That was an interesting development. Severus had always seemed more revolted than attracted by Bellatrix, but ever since he had tortured her naked the other day his sexual interest had become increasingly obvious. No doubt he still craved to crucio her to death, but judging by the way his predatory eyes had begun to linger on her figure now he would fuck her first if he had the chance, and presented with a choice it seemed more and more likely that he would prefer to keep her alive on the off chance that he might someday be allowed to put a saddle on her and break her for his personal use too.
It was something to think about. Tom had never considered to share her with anyone besides her husband, but it was a fact that Rodolphus couldn't really control her, and someone must be able to control Bellatrix if Tom wasn't available.
His thoughts redirected his steps without conscious decision on his part, and before he realized where he was going he found himself pushing aside the tapestry that concealed the entrance to one of the secret training rooms. He approached slowly and silently, so he had a moment to observe his subjects from the shadows before the scene was disrupted by his presence, his eyes falling first on young Bartemius, who stood in the center of the room with his attention completely monopolized by his victim —an old Muggle who already looked considerably worse for wear—, and then on Bella, who was whispering something presumably dark and filthy in the boy's ear while stroking him from behind in a rather inappropriate way. Standing at a side, Rodolphus watched his indecorous wife with murder in his eyes, as it was to be expected, while Rabastan kept his cautious gaze fixed on his brother —it was his job to make sure Rodolphus didn't try to kill Bellatrix. Tom felt a little murderous himself, although in his case it wasn't because he disapproved —Bella had his permission to use seduction with her recruits, as long as she didn't take it too far— but because of what the sight reminded him of. He didn't mind her touching the boy, on the contrary —he usually enjoyed watching her bait other men knowing that only he would get to fuck her—, but she had taken too many liberties with his body the other day, and that was unacceptable. Tom had trusted her to guard him while he was at his most vulnerable, and she had abused that trust, taking advantage of his comatose state as well as of Nagini's and Severus' absence to touch him everywhere and even kiss him...
"My Lord."
Rabastan was the first one to notice him and fall to his knees, his voice startling the others out of their enthralled contemplations. Tom detached himself from the shadows and glided forwards, suddenly regretting having come here when he didn't really want to deal with any of these followers and when he had actually been trying to avoid the dark temptation Bellatrix represented. He glanced at her as he approached, and saw that she didn't look contrite nor fearful at all, even though she knew that he was aware of what she had done. Plainly she thought she had gotten away with it and that she would not be punished for her transgression.
Oh, dear Bella, you have no idea what awaits you.
Severus had specifically forbidden any whipping motions with either of his arms (one of the few restrictions that made sense to Tom), but that wasn't going to save Bella nor even delay her punishment, not when Rodolphus would be all to happy to do the heavy work for him —the right to discipline his wife was the only right he was always eager to claim as Bellatrix's husband. Tom didn't think he could refrain from doling out the punishment himself right here and now if he held her unrepentant gaze for too long, though, so he turned away from her and focused his attention on young Bartemius instead. The boy had dropped to his knees too, and was staring up at him with the usual combination of fear, hero-worship and greed in his feverish eyes, his body visibly vibrating with the desire to prove himself useful and worthy. It was an excellent disposition for a young recruit, so Tom smiled in approval even though he absolutely despised the brat: a privileged pureblood who had never known real abandonment nor personally experienced any hardships or muggle cruelties, and yet thought himself the most aggrieved person in the world just because his busy father didn't pay enough attention to him. Of course Tom had used that grievance to lure the Crouch heir to his side and bind him to him, making the boy believe that they shared a special connection because they both knew what it was like to have a disappointing father, but it was a very tiresome pretence to maintain, and Tom really couldn't wait for the day when the brat stopped being strategically important so he could let him know what he truly thought of all his pathetic whining.
Bartemius was clearly eager to demonstrate all the dark curses he had mastered since the last time they had met, but Tom had better things to do now than sitting in on a boring training session, so he only spared the time for a brief mental incursion. He did it under pretence of testing the boy's progress in Occlumency, as usual, but he was actually checking for doubts, dissatisfaction or treacherous intentions, anything that this high risk subject might be trying to hide from him or that Tom should pay attention to for other reasons.
The first thing he uncovered was, naturally, a guilty layer of sexual fantasies involving Bellatrix, all surprizingly vanilla and quite dull compared to what Severus no doubt had in mind for her —even Bella might prefer Severus' vindictive subjugation over such uninspired teenager coupling, honestly. Tom really should put some time aside to educate the brat... or not. Severus was already likely to get dangerously jealous when he found out that his master was cultivating a close relationship with another 'special' child, he would not like it at all if Tom bonded with his new protégée over sex as well; not unless Severus was included in the extracurricular activity and they made of instructing the boy a bonding experience between them. Which was an interesting idea, but probably not a good idea considering the second layer of thoughts and emotions Bartemius was trying to conceal from his master.
Severus had already been working his spy cover at Hogwarts when Tom had recruited the Crouch boy, so Bartemius had only seen him in Headquarters a few times during the summer, and Tom had carefully avoided public interactions with Severus on those occasions so as to hide from the boy how close their relationship was. As a result of his caution, despite knowing that Severus was a high ranked Death Eater who enjoyed Tom's favour, until recently the brat's jealously had been more focused on Lucius and Evan, who were always here flaunting their privileged positions in Lord Voldemort's innest circle. The events of the last ten days had made Bartemius realize who the real competition was, however. Tom had already noticed the boy's mental envy after Halloween, when Severus had been honoured and rewarded with the prettiest Mudblood currently in circulation, and after last Saturday... well, let's say that the boy was fervently praying someone would tip off Dumbledore about the current location of Mrs. Potter, and viciously fantasizing with his fellow Death Eater's unfortunate death. Bartemius was too loyal and aware of his own limitations as to consider making a move against Severus himself, but his feelings were strong enough to raise a red flag. And to make Tom want to crucio him in Severus' behalf.
"You have made remarkable progress, Bartemius," he praised him a minute later as he gently slid out of the young mind, looking down at him with as much pride and warmth as he could fake at the moment. "Soon Bellatrix will have nothing else to teach you."
The boy positively preened at the compliment, visibly relieved that his fantasies had not been commented upon, while at his side Bellatrix looked torn between satisfaction and uneasiness.
"I will have to find a better teacher for you," added Tom, "someone you can really look up to." Bartemius seemed to hold his breath, no doubt thinking in his arrogant naiveté that he would be instructed by Lord Voldemort himself. "I will see if Severus can spare some time for you next summer."
As Tom had evilly anticipated, the boy's face fell, hard, and for a moment his crushed eyes raged with the resentment and jealously that had underlined every thought inside his mind. Bellatrix, meanwhile, looked as if she had been slapped again, her fury so dangerously close to spilling out in some disrespectful way that Rodolphus wisely approached and, clasping her arm with excessive force, dragged her to a distant corner of the room. Tom gestured for Rabastan to go mediate between his brother and sister-in-law before turning back to Bartemius, who clearly had interpreted the scuffle correctly and realized that it would not be a good idea to protest. Not that Tom really meant to transfer the boy to Severus, of course, that would be a murder waiting to happen, but it was important that both Bellatrix and the brat began to wrap their minds around the reality that Severus wasn't an ordinary Death Eater they should try to compete with, but a superior whose favour they should compete for.
It was also important not to alienate this valuable agent, however. At this point Bartemius was so completely devoted to Tom and the dark cause that there wasn't really a risk that anything would induce him to commit treason, but if his jealously and resentment weren't handled carefully the boy might develop an attitude problem. And young recruits with attitude problems tended to do stupid things —like challenging the Half-Blood Prince to a duel— that got them maimed or killed. Tom could not afford to lose the Crouch kid nor to send him back home without a limb, so he resigned himself to have to waste some time on teenager management. To this end, he ordered the brat to his feet and, putting an arm around his shoulders, turned him away from the Lestranges for a private chat.
"I know that you dislike Severus Snape, Bartemius," he said when he was sure he had the boy's complete attention, "but if you wish to achieve greatness you must be willing to learn from the best, even if you dislike them."
Tom certainly had learned from Dumbledore, and now he was even better at Transfiguration than the old man.
"You are the best, my Lord," argued the boy hotly. "I wish to learn from you."
"You know I'm fighting a war, Bartemius," said Tom patiently. "I cannot spare the time for your daily instruction right now. Severus can't either, for that matter, not while he's stationed at Hogwarts. You still have a lot to learn before you're ready to learn the sort of things only he or I could teach you, anyway, so for now you will continue working with Bellatrix and studying the material I have given you in your free time. When you're ready for more advanced training, particularly in Mind Magics, I will discuss it with Severus and decide how to continue your instruction."
"He knows about me then? Snape?" asked the boy, spitting the name as if it were something disgusting he had had stuck in his throat. "You said it was supposed to be top secret, that only the Lestranges could know. You said-"
"That is quite enough, Bartemius," said Tom sharply, digging his fingers warningly on the boy's shoulder and wishing he were dealing with his bad-tempered disciple instead. Severus could sulk like the best and hurl resentful accusations blunter than Bludgers, but even as a teenager he had never whined. "It is not your place to question whom I choose to share information with, you don't even have clearance to know what anyone above your rank discusses about any subject."
"If it's about me-"
"I said enough, Bartemius. Now be quie-"
"I have a right to know!"
Passing over the first impulse of strangling the boy or ripping off his tongue, with a brisk mental Langlock Tom affixed Bartemius' disrespectful appendage to the roof of his mouth. Using one of Severus' spells to shut up the insolent brat gave him some satisfaction, but it wasn't nearly enough to quench his irritation so with another flick of his wand he sent the irreverent pureblood crashing down to the floor.
No one interrupted Lord Voldemort. No one talked back to him. No one except Bellatrix, of course, who no doubt was to blame for Bartemius' impertinence. The boy had already been spoiled and annoyingly presumptuous when Tom had recruited him, but clearly Bella's influence was making things worse if the brat dared speaking in such a way to his master.
If he had wanted to crucio the boy before, now it felt like an irresistible need, something he had to do, but some part of his infuriated brain still remembered the strategic importance of the Crouch kid so he forced himself to find another target for his murderous anger. His eyes fell immediately on the broken Muggle Bella and Bartemius had been working on earlier, which seemed to be still breathing if barely. It wasn't much of a victim in its current state, but it was something, and it offered the advantage of being more disposable than any of his surrounding followers.
The Muggle had seemed irresponsive, but it managed to cry out in pain when Tom began to cut its life away, and by the time he was done it had been reduced to a bleeding, sobbing mess weakly begging for death. Severus' Sectumsempra really was a remarkable piece of Dark Magic. Very much like Severus himself: powerful, effective, precise, and so versatile... it could be used to kill quickly, or to prolong agony, to slash, or to puncture, to amputate, or to flay... Tom had understood what he had in his hands when Severus had presented him with this curse at sixteen years old.
He felt satisfied and considerably calmer when he finally lowered his wand, but whatever portion of his irritation had been alleviated by the bloody purge was replaced by a different source of annoyance when a wave of dizziness hit him and he realized that his nearly healed wound had begun to throb.
Damn.
He turned around and stood still for a long moment, struggling not to show any physical weakness even though he felt suddenly in danger of collapsing. Damn.
"My Lord?" called Bella in a tremulous voice.
Tom fought off another wave of nausea, resisting the urge to cover his face with his hands or leaning against a wall for support.
"My Lord?"
"Out," he hissed. No one moved. "All of you, out," he repeated in English. "Except Bartemius."
He considered sending Rabastan to fetch Severus for him, but after a quick reflection he decided he would rather endure a little physical discomfort than an oblique 'I told you so' lecture from his fretting disciple. Besides, Tom was now more convinced than ever that it wasn't a good idea to bring Severus and Bartemius into contact, at least not until he could ensure the brat would not provoke Severus with his blatant disrespect. And he wanted to deal with Bartemius now, so Severus would have to wait.
Once the room had been cleared, Tom conjured an armchair behind him and let himself fall into it, careful not to wince nor betray his feebleness as he did so. Damned Flamel. He wanted to be angry at Severus too, for having failed to heal him completely even with the specific counter-course at his disposal, and for having required rescue in Devon in the first place, but no matter how he looked at it he couldn't find anything concrete to reproach his efficient subject for. Severus had handled the Devon debacle as well as Tom could have expected, protecting his men better than Bellatrix, his giant better than Lucius, and himself better than Evan would have against the same adversaries. He had saved Tom's current body despite not being a proper Healer, risked going back to Hogwarts to find out about Flamel's curse, and of course he had warned Tom against using too much Dark Magic or making any slashing movements until at least Friday.
He sighed. Damned Severus and his annoying foresight.
"Come here, Bartemius," he called tiredly.
The boy crawled towards him, but stopped several feet away, probably fearing to lose his lips or hands if he tried to touch or kiss the hem of his master's robes the way he would normally do.
"Look at the Muggle," commanded Tom, somehow managing to sound harsh rather than weak.
Bartemius obeyed, and Tom saw with detached satisfaction that despite his taste for violence and blood the boy seemed sickened by the sight.
"Severus invented that curse," informed him Tom. "The wounds inflicted with it can only be closed chanting a specific counter-curse that only he and I know. That is why any injured victims who survive an encounter with him usually bleed to death or are incapacitated by a constant dependance of Blood-Replenishing Potions. Even if the wounds are immediately closed with the counter-curse, permanent scars and traces of Dark Magic are left behind, which is why appendages amputated with such curse cannot be regrown nor replaced by prosthetic limbs that require magical integration."
Tom gave the boy a few minutes to ponder that interesting piece of information while he fought off another wave of nauseating fatigue. Damned Flamel. He had a general summoning planned for tonight, would he have to put it off again? He knew Severus and his many other loyal subjects would guard him against any treacherous idiot who might think to take advantage of his weakness, but Tom would hardly be able to get his point across if he couldn't demonstrate his strentgh.
How he hated to feel weak. Lord Voldemort should never feel weak. He was bloody immortal, for Merlin's sake, he should feel immortal, and anyone who looked at him should see an immortal Being too strong to oppose.
Resting in a sitting position was helping, though. Tom felt steadier by the second, and the wound was just itching now, which Severus had said was normal and even good.
Needing to distract his mind from the infernal itching (Severus had strictly forbidden him to scratch himself), he refocused his attention on Bartemius, and saw that the boy was once again looking at the Muggle, his expression one of badly concealed uneasiness mixed with reluctant fascination. Good. Tom's main goal was to impress on the brat some measure of healthy respect for Severus' deadly skills, but he hoped to also plant in his greedy mind a notion of the sort of things the Half-Blood Prince could teach to an hypothetical apprentice. Of course Severus would never share his original spells with anyone other than Tom, certainly not ever with a spoilt pureblood loyal to Bellatrix, but dangling dark knowledge in front of young recruits —especially Ravenclaws like Bartemius— was a good way to ensnare them and promote a respectful sucking-up behaviour.
"The jinx that is currently gluing your tongue to the roof of your mouth is also a spell of Severus' own devising," said Tom when he thought the boy had had time enough to observe and consider the effects of the Sectumsempra curse. "It might seem harmless in comparison, but it also requires a specific counter-spell that Severus keeps very close to his chest. The only way to cancel the effects without access to the counter-jinx is to remove the tongue, and while tongues removed by ordinary means can be reattached or regrown, the procedure, as I believe Bella has shown you, can be somewhat painful ."
Bartemius' eyes widened in terror, and despite having been just told that the jinx couldn't be easily lifted, he visibly redoubled his pointless efforts to free his tongue. An amusing image of Albus Dumbledore struggling with the same speech impediment flashed through Tom's mind, making him wonder whether the old man would manage to figure out how to undo it without cutting off his tongue. Perhaps. But without knowing the jinx' incantation it would probably take him days or even weeks to find a way around Severus' clever spell, and in the meantime he would sound like a retarded clown whenever he tried to utter a password or lecture someone about remorse, love and such nonsense. Of course if Severus had any chance of hitting the old bastard with a spell he would hardly aim a non-lethal jinx, but it was fun to imagine the blathering fool victim of such a prank.
"You will likely not have any contact with Severus in the near future," continued Tom after another pause, "but you will eventually. When that time comes, you will do well to remember that he doesn't tolerate disrespect or insubordination any more than I do, and also that he has my permission to discipline you at his own discretion if he feels your behaviour needs correction."
Physical torture was satisfying, and it frustrated Tom not to have that option sometimes for one reason or another, but his favourite kind of torment would always be the psychological one. To be able to cause deep emotional distress with just a few words, with just a look, or a tone, or a mental image... it was a special kind of power.
There was still resentment in Bartemius' eyes, but mostly there was anguish, the injured look of a child who wasn't used to not get his way. A boy who had grown up with house-elves attending to his every whim, spoiled and shielded by his mother, praised and excused by all his teachers, picked for every Quidditch team and popular group. He had been ignored by his father, yes, but in his indifference Crouch had let his son do and have whatever he wanted, denying him nothing but his attention. Bella had also spoiled him and reinforced his sense of entitlement, partly because Tom had instructed her to nurse the boy's ego and partly because she had hoped Bartemius would rise to displace Severus while remaining loyal to her. And as to Tom... due to the boy's strategic importance, he had also been too soft and indulging with him, allowing the brat to get away with cheeky answers, impudent thoughts, childish whining and other unacceptable behaviours that he would ordinarily crucio to correction.
He still couldn't afford to crucio him, but in a way it was more satisfying —and probably also more effective— to put the impertinent brat in his place without resourcing to physical pain. Bartemius was only suffering some mild discomfort with his tongue stuck to his palate, but the fact that it was Severus' spell clearly made the situation unbearable to him, and being faced with a bloody exhibition of what Severus could and would be allowed to do to him if he pissed him off... The boy probably had never before in his life felt so wretched as he felt in this moment. And Tom would gladly leave the brat to soak in his misery forever, but unfortunately at this point in time he couldn't afford an unhappy Bartemius so he proceeded to soften the blow by beckoning him closer.
The boy approached hesitantly, looking up at him with eyes full of fear, hurt devotion and complaints, but no guilt, no contrition, not even entreaty. So much like Bella.
"You trusted your life and future to me when you took my Mark, Bartemius, has that trust already wanned?" asked Tom in a deeply disappointed tone.
Only unarticulated sounds came out when the boy tried to speak, so he ended up vehemently shaking his head.
"Well, then," said Tom, "if you trust me, you should trust that if I involve Severus in your future it will be because it's the best I can do to ensure that you are safe and capable of achieving whatever you wish to achieve in life." He beckoned the boy even closer, and reached out to gently stroke the straw blond hair when he had him within reach. Fortunately this particular follower didn't require as much physical contact as Severus did, but Tom had to make a show of fatherly affection sometimes. "I am not talking only about training, Bartemius. You did not join me only because you wished to learn advanced or forbidden magics. You joined me because you shared my vision, and you wanted me to guide you and protect you while we worked together to build a better world."
In truth, Bartemius had joined because he wanted to spite his father and not much else, but it was plain in his fervent eyes that he had come to wholeheartedly embrace all the other reasons Tom had suggested to him.
"Severus shares my vision too," he went on. "And he has learned from me everything he needs to know to take over the responsibility of guiding and protecting you —and all your brothers and sisters— if something ever happens to me. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Of course the brat couldn't speak, but Tom could see his answering thoughts written all over his face and swarming the surface of his mind. There was doubt, worry and a sense of betrayal around the idea that something might happen to him, that Lord Voldemort might die despite his claims of being immortal, and indignation at the idea that a lowborn half-blood would take over in such scenario. There was resentment, and rebelliousness, and firm resolve to leave the Organization or help Bellatrix overthrow Severus if it came to that.
Tom sighed. He knew that Bartemius would not be the only one who would resist to accept Severus' official upgrading, but he hoped most of the others would be smarter than this. At least those who were aware of Tom's own status as a half-blood brought up in the Muggle world ought to be clever enough not to insult Severus on the same grounds, and anyone with the slightest resemblance of survival instincts ought to know better than to defy Lord Voldemort's wishes on the matter of succession.
"Listen carefully," said Tom in a deadly serious tone, sliding his fingers around the boy's neck and applying some pressure on his throat to hopefully communicate the warning on a more visceral level. "Whatever happens to me, to this mortal body I occupy, I will never be truly gone. I will always come back. And if upon my return I were to discover that in my absence you deserted, betrayed any of your fellow Death Eaters or opposed Severus' command, I will be extremely displeased."
Now at last the brat was well and truly terrified, and Tom could see that he was desperate to speak, but he still didn't lift the spell. He had had enough of the boy's whining tonight.
He released the pressure on the boy's neck, though, and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly to make up for his harshness.
"Your resentment is blinding you, Bartemius," he said softly. "It doesn't allow you to see that Severus could be good to you. I wish him to take charge of you if something happens to me because he is the only one I trust to guide you and protect you the way I would. I trust him to advise you about your spy cover, to keep you out of Azkaban, to supervise your training and honour all my promises to you including the one about your father." I trust him to know how to handle you, how to keep you in line and aligned. "Severus and I are one and the same, Bartemius, do you understand? Following me is to follow him, and opposing him... opposing him is to oppose me."
Slow understanding seemed to be dawning in the boy's obdurate mind. It was obvious that he didn't like what he understood, but at least he was finally putting to use his Ravenclaw brain.
"Like I said, you will likely not have any contact with Severus in the near future," repeated Tom. "He isn't even aware of you at the moment, and I don't plan to inform him until after the Ministry has fallen. Not because I don't trust him with the information," he clarified, pinning the boy with a stern look, "but because of his dangerous position next to Dumbledore. If something like what happened last Saturday were to happen again, however, something that disabled or destroyed my body, you are to present yourself to Severus immediately and tell him all about you and our plans for your father. And you are to obey any instructions he gives you. If he decides not to send you back home, you will stay here or wherever he tells you to stay. If he decides to separate you from Bellatrix, you will not complain nor resist. Whatever he tells you to do, you will do it, am I perfectly clear?"
Bartemius gulped under his threatening gaze, and after struggling with himself for a moment he nodded in defeated compliance. Tom wasn't sure the boy would actually comply if it came to it —he suspected it would depend on whether Bellatrix opposed Severus or not—, but at least it looked like his mental opinion of Severus had been brutally shaken, which might be a good first step towards true compliance. He couldn't rely on Bartemius' obedience, however, so just in case he decided to give Severus explicit instructions to unmask, legilimize and take in hand all the secret agents —including those under Bellatrix's protection— if Tom ever lost his body or was temporarily removed from the board some other way. Bella would object to such provision, of course, arguing that she could handle Bartemius better than Severus, but while it was true that the boy was more likely to remain loyal under her supervision Tom would rather have Severus in charge of such a high risk agent. Not the least because Bartemius was truly making remarkable progress in Occlumency and soon Bellatrix might not be able to access his mind or detect concealed thoughts within it any longer.
Tom fought off another wave of irritation that mercifully wasn't accompanied by dizziness. It annoyed him not to be able to discuss all his secrets and plans with Severus. If someone ought to be apprised of absolutely everything, it should be his right-hand man and second-in-command, and yet he kept him more in the dark than his other lieutenants. Severus should be aware of all the spies he might have to handle some day, and he should be briefed about their missions and get acquainted with them beforehand, so as to have time to prepare himself and ascertain his authority over them. Without that previous introduction, in the middle of a stressful crisis Severus might opt for directly murdering Pettigrew or Bartemius rather than risk any betrayal from them, and similarly some secret agents might opt for not reporting themselves to him at all if they didn't learn to trust him ahead of time —Wormtail certainly would not go anywhere near Headquarters if he ever thought his master dead or vanished, and since no one but Tom knew about him Severus would not know to track him down until it was too late.
Severus should also be aware of all the people Tom was keeping under the Imperius Curse, in case Tom ever lost connection with his puppets and was necessary to recast the curse or kill them before they could make trouble (he wasn't sure if losing his body would be like dying in that regard, but he should consider the possibility and plan for that eventuality). His other lieutenants knew about most of them, but since Lucius could no longer be trusted and neither Bellatrix nor Evan could put a foot in any public place without a bunch of Aurors descending on them, Severus would have to be the one to do it. And certain individuals would have to be reached fast if the Imperius was lifted, so he should know their names, locations and mental orders beforehand, to be ready to act the instant Tom lost control over them.
He hesitated to share so many important secrets with Severus, however. The Crouch boy was the key to take the Ministry, and all his imperiused subjects were essential to hold it. Pettigrew would be the downfall of the Order of the Phoenix, and he was well positioned to find out where the Longbottoms were hiding or who was their Secret Keeper. If Dumbledore —or Flamel— broke into Severus' mind and discovered all that crucial information, Tom's takeover might be delayed another decade, and he might not be able to eliminate the Longbottom brat before it became a problem.
Another argument in favour of blowing up Severus' cover and keeping him safely by his side from now on. Severus was too valuable to risk, too risky to share, too prickly to blindside. And now that Flamel had come out to play...
Tom couldn't decide what to do. So he just sat there, with a satisfyingly quiet Bartemius moping by his knee, turning the matter inside his head while he waited for the Muggle to finally expire.
The worthless beggar refused to die, though. Tom had done too good a job cutting it in such a way that there was a lot of blood for Bartemius to see but also a lot of time to watch it bleed out. So in the end he decided to make a lesson of it, and taking advantage of the boy's speech impediment he made him practice the Killing Curse non-verbally over and over again until he got it right, all the while trying to ignore the humiliating thought that at the present moment he might not be able to do it without collapsing.
Damned Flamel.
He set off in search of Severus as soon as he was done with Bartemius. They had an important decision to make.