thanks to Alabaster Princess for doing such a great beta work. All remaining mistakes are mine.
21- My Bloody Valentine
Raven had thought it much easier to find out more about the true nature of Lord Voldemort. Although she had good clues to begin with. she didn't get anywhere in her research. She followed the family tree of Salazar Slytherin down to his last recorded descendant, a certain Marvolo Gaunt and his two children, Morfin and Merope. According to the records, the Gaunts were an ancient pure-blood family of once great importance and riches, but by the time of Marvolo Gaunt they were impoverished, living in shabby conditions and best known for instability. Their violent behaviour that came as a result of constant inbreeding, had landed both father and son in Azkaban. Marvolo died there. Actually, all of them were dead already and neither Morfin nor Merope seemed to have ever married or had children.
Raven had reached a dead end.
Next she checked the yearbooks of the time when Radcliffe Lestrange attended Hogwarts. She focussed mainly on the Slytherins, and of course she found no Gaunt, but while leafing through the pages she came upon an old picture of her mother, looking pretty in her Hufflepuff robes. It gave her a pang, knowing that soon there would be an ocean between her and her parents.
Heaving a sigh, she turned the page and recognized three more witches that were in Nigella Marigold's year- a Ravenclaw, a Slytherin and a Gryffindor. The Slytherin was, of course, Eileen Prince, Severus' mother, who apparently had been born with a sullen face. Raven wasn't really surprised about that.
It came as a surprise, though, to see a younger version of her Transfiguration professor, Minerva McGonagall, depicting her as a student. Her expression was sterner now but she was definitely recognisable.
And last, there was the Ravenclaw girl, still looking as young as she did in that old picture. She still had lank hair, pimples and was wearing thick glasses; she had merely become... translucent. That's what being a ghost did to one's appearance. It was Moaning Myrtle, although she did have a surname in those days. Myrtle Henderson died in 1943.
Perhaps Myrtle could tell Raven who the heir of Slytherin was?
Alas, when Raven visited her in the bathroom on the second floor, the site of her death, Myrtle started wailing and couldn't be stopped, flooding the room with tears and water. So until Myrtle would get a grip on herself- unlikely any time soon- that was another death end.
"Ghosts!" Raven grumbled as she left the bathroom.
"Tut-tut," whispered a voice above her and she looked up to see the Bloody Baron floating in mid-air over her head..
"So what? It's true." Although she usually got on very well with ghosts in general and especially with the Bloody Baron, probably the scariest ghost at Hogwarts, she was slightly annoyed about their antics now. Ghosts were so easy to offend and she'd had it! "All you ever do is delve in your own misery, not really caring about the humans you could actually help with all the knowledge you have gathered while not being alive anymore. It's not fair!"
"Life's not fair, little girl."
"I know, but please don't expect me to be less pissed about it. You were there when the heir of Slytherin walked the corridors of this school. All I need is a name!"
"If you want to know more about the heir of Slytherin, ask him," the Bloody Baron replied cryptically before he dissolved into thin air.
"Wait!" Raven shouted to no avail, since ghosts simply didn't listen to mortals. If they wanted to disappear, they did. "Ask who?"
"Salazar."
Great! Really great. Salazar Slytherin died many centuries ago and there was only one portrait of him, which hung in the Slytherin common room. She had never hear him speak to any of his little snakes.
Later that day she glanced at his portrait. He looked like a powerful aged monkey with a long grey beard... why she suddenly had to think of an aged King Louie from the Jungle Book, Raven didn't know. She definitely couldn't imagine this stern, gaunt wizard singing 'I wanna be like you'. The idea was so ridiculous she had to chuckle.
Severus shot her an odd look. Lately, she often caught him staring at her when he thought she didn't notice as if he wanted to ask something but didn't know how to start. Raven figured he was still mulling over the confession she made that night at the Astronomy tower.
She wasn't a virgin anymore. So what? It was none of his business since he wasn't interested in her, therefore it was her good right to have sex with someone else. She had never seen sense in sparing herself for the day he'd finally get over bloody St Evans and deigned to recognise her as possible love interest. Life was much too short and virginity was mightily overrated.
He really shouldn't be speculating about her sexual experience; his curiosity was uncalled for. But then again, he'd always been kind of possessive. It was nagging him that there was a part of her life he was not privy to and although he was hiding it well, she knew that it bothered him.
"Alright, what do you want to know?" Raven asked, catching him unawares.
He pretended to be clueless what she was about, so she decided to fill him in.
"It was last summer, it was in Spain, and it was with Miguel, my holiday flirt. And yes, I liked it."
Severus blushed, and when he blushed he looked absolutely cute- but she reckoned he wouldn't want to hear that. "There's no need to go into details."
"I wasn't planning to anyway."
They were silent for a while until he finally asked, "Do you love him?"
Why did he sound so desperate? He didn't love her- or, to be more precise, he probably loved her as a friend. But that wasn't enough. It was never enough. And yet, perhaps he feared to lose her friendship if she fell in love with someone, as if that someone would take her away from him. Which would never happen.
"Merlin, no. We like each other fairly well, and we've been attracted to each other for a couple of years now, but in the end Miguel is merely a holiday flirt to me, just like I am to him. He's the son of a Spanish fisherman, a Muggle, and he will marry a Muggle girl from his village..." With a shrug she changed the topic. "Now, did you find out anything about the heir of Slytherin? The ghosts haven't been very cooperative in that matter."
Valentine's Day was approaching. While all of her peers were excited about the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year and had nothing else in mind but to find the perfect date, Raven was dreading that day. She'd never had a real date before and she wouldn't have one this year either; instead of flirting with nice boys like all the other girls did, she busied herself in the library, trying to find out more about the Dark Lord.
Well, there wasn't any nice boy she was interested in, anyway- except for Severus, of course, who wasn't exactly nice either. Sometimes he was a downright prat, but that didn't matter now.
Severus would have to meet the Lord Voldemort on Valentine's Day.
All those little cupids and pink hearts the castle was decorated with seemed so absurd to her when her best friend's future was on the stake, and she was still not any wiser about the Dark Lord. Who was he? It was so very frustrating- there were times she thought she was close to finding an answer, that it was almost in front of her... and then again it was not. The threads were slipping through her fingers without her being capable of getting hold of them, and in the end she was just as clueless as before.
If only she'd have more time! But Valentine's Day was already the day after tomorrow and she still had to finish an essay for Professor Steel about the Undead, comparing the nature of ghouls, zombies and Inferi. Raven had to focus on that first. Although the American Auror was giving Severus and her private training sessions in Defence, that didn't mean she would tolerate any sloppiness. If possible, Steel was even stricter with her favourite students just because she was granting them a privilege.
Usually, Raven appreciated that attitude. She liked Professor Steel simply because she was probably the only teacher who didn't judge her students by the houses they were in, and she didn't hand out good grades at random.
There were times she even considered to confide all the things that were going on in her mind, all her worries about Severus, to Alice Steel. Was she really doing the right thing by keeping it all to herself? Sometimes the burden seemed to be too heavy for her to carry alone...
But then, sitting in the library once again, Raven sort of stumbled across an article in an old copy of the Daily Prophet, dated June 1943. The date piked her interest because that was approximately the time when Moaning Myrtle died, and indeed her name was briefly mentioned.
As it transpired, there had been a series of inexplicable accidents at Hogwarts, in which a couple of students- all Muggleborns- got injured and a girl by the name of Myrtle Henderson was killed. Former Headmaster Armando Dippet had been about to close the school for an indefinite time, but only a little later, the person responsible for those horrible deeds against Muggleborns was exposed- it was Rubeus Hagrid.
Hagrid of all people!
Apparently he had released a murderous monster from the bowels of Hogwarts that attacked Muggleborn, because he was the Heir of Slytherin.
It was absurd.
True, Hagrid was known to have an almost unhealthy fascination with dangerous beasties, but that didn't make him the Heir of Slytherin- as if any descendant of ape-faced and elitist Salazar would sink as low as to bed a giant! Even if that giant was a very pure-blooded giant...
It seemed, however, that logic didn't matter much when the wizarding world- or the board of governors, to be more precise- was keen to present a delinquent, and with Hagrid they had found the perfect culprit. As a half-breed he'd had no back-up in wizarding society; his father was dead and his mother, a giantess, had left shortly after his birth... besides, a giantess wouldn't ever be allowed to testify on her offspring's behalf in front of the Wizengamot. And so Hagrid was expelled from Hogwarts and his wand was broken; only thanks to Dumbledore's greatness of heart had he been allowed to live in a hut at the edge of the Forbidden Forest and become the gamekeeper of Hogwarts.
Once again, Raven realized how little most people were using their brains, and that was mightily annoying. She rolled her eyes at so much idiocy, wondering if anyone had ever spared a thought on the fact that Hagrid was a typical Gryffindor; a half-breed that possessed no Slytherin traits whatsoever. Also, he didn't bear a grudge against Muggleborns
Since that incident spurred her curiosity, Raven decided to dig a little deeper and remembered to ask Myrtle about it; after all, she was the victim and still there to be interrogated- if only she would stop flooding her favourite haunting place with self pity...
In the course of even more research, Raven came across the name Tom Riddle for the first time. Back in 1943, he was a fifth year Slytherin prefect; a tall, handsome boy with jet black hair and dark eyes... and he was also the one who'd caught Hagrid in the act.
Or framed him.
The school wasn't closed. No one else was injured or killed, and soon the whole fuss about a monster attacking Muggleborn students seemed to dissolve into thin air. Tom Riddle received an award for Special Services to Hogwarts. It was still on display in the trophy room, a golden shield carrying his name.
And that's it? Raven wondered. No further investigation, no clue about what kind of beastie had terrorized the school? Myrtle was just an unfortunate casualty? Oh, that all sounded so very fishy. Although she wasn't overly fond of Hagrid, she nevertheless believed he had been framed. But why would Tom Riddle do such a thing? There was only one logical argument and that was to cover his own tracks in order to avert suspicion. It made perfect sense to Raven, even if she didn't have any evidence yet; she would have to question Myrtle about every little detail of her death to be certain that both, her research and her intuition, were heading in the right direction.
The night had brought some snow, but Valentine's Day dawned bright and sunny, and the Great Hall was decorated with pink hearts and little golden cupid that Lily thought very cute. She was in a mood as bright as the enchanted ceiling that mirrored the clear blue sky outside, even though she didn't have a date today, unlike all the previous years.
And while the hall was buzzing with teenagers hoping to arrange a last minute date, she briefly wondered if it had really been a wise idea to reject charming James Potter's polite request to take her out to Hogsmeade. Or should she have accepted? Of course, it wasn't the first time he'd asked her to go out with him- he'd done that persistently in the past years, on countless occasions, and he had been so obstinate in his wooing that the sheer sight of him had nearly pestered her... but things were different now. He was different.
James had become so much more mature recently, and his behaviour towards her, the way he treated her, had changed too. His manners were almost impeccable when he was talking to her, and his interest in her had taken on a more earnest touch; he wasn't that loutish and loud-mouthed anymore, which she liked quite well. Also, he was an attractive young wizard.
Probably that was why she had turned him down for the umpteenth time, pretending she had to revise. Lily always took her studies at Hogwarts very serious. And then James had surprised her by asking her if she'd mind him to join her. So, although she didn't have a real date for Valentine's Day, she would spend her day with James Potter. In the library. Under Madam Pince's stern glance. There, it would be easier to resist his charming, sometimes a little rogueish, smile that always seemed to make her heart beat a bit faster.
Since Raven never had a date for Valentine's Day, she didn't mind that this year it wouldn't be any different. she didn't have one either. It amused her though, that Regulus had possessed the nerve to actually ask her out. What a bold, cheeky little boy! And for a young witch being almost of age, anyone younger than her was considered like an infant; it was probably the way all teenagers ticked.
Besides, she did have sort of a rendezvous. With Myrtle. Only that her ghostly friend didn't know about that yet. But Raven was determined to find out all the little details about Moaning Myrtle's death today, whether the ghost deigned to cooperate or not.
Severus had a date with Lord Voldemort today and he dreaded it just as much as Raven feared for him.
She kept telling herself that the Dark Lord would neither kill, maim, torture or brand her friend, given that he was still a Hogwarts student and therefore under Dumbledore's protection. And Dumbledore was allegedly the only wizard Lord Voldemort ever feared.
If she were a Gryffindor, Raven would have relied on his protection. Alas, being a Slytherin she had little faith in the Headmaster; he'd let them down too often. And she still hadn't forgiven him his reaction after that werewolf incident last year.
"Do I look decent?" Severus asked, distracting her thoughts.
They were in the Slytherin common room and he was dressed in his best wizarding robes, which had been a present from Lucius Malfoy.
Raven scrutinized him from head to toe. Yes, he looked every inch the respectable wizard he aimed to be or become one day; Malfoy would be proud of him. Even if his hair left a lot to be desired, still looking kind of greasy somehow.
He must be using the wrong shampoo, she wondered and almost laughed hysterically about her absurd train of thoughts, because in contemplation to the possibility of a slow and painful death, his hair should be the very last thing to worry about.
"Well," she said, feigning a confident smile, "I like you better in Muggle clothes- but then again you don't want to impress the Dark Lord with your delicious rock-star-legs, do ya?" Not waiting for an answer, Raven kissed his cheeks. "Anyway, good luck, Sev."
He could use it, both of them knew that.
"Thank you," he said stiffly, enduring her bear hug with stoicism before, on the spur of the moment, he gingerly breathed a peck on her forehead. He didn't know why he'd done that but somehow it felt like the right thing to do. "Don't worry about me, Lestrange. Everything will be alright."
And then he buried this incident in an imaginary box that he stored away in the backmost corner of his mind, next to a stack of more imaginary boxes labelled Lily. He wouldn't need these memories today.
"It took hours and hours and hours and endless hours until they finally found my body;" Myrtle wailed and was about to dive into the U-bent of her favourite toilet once again, but Raven was at the end of her tether.
"Stop that! Stay here, goddammit!"
"You don't care about me," Myrtle sniffed, her face streaked with silver tears as she risked a peek over the rim of the toilet bowl. "No one cares about poor Myrtle."
"True, 'cause you're pathetic, hiding in a toilet, moping all the time. My, get a grip on yourself, girl! You're a ghost now! And ghosts are cool, so stop wasting away your undead life by wallowing in self pity. Tell me about your death."
Myrtle emerged from the depth of the toilet bowl and sat down at the seat, swinging her ghostly legs in a very girlish way. "Well... I was hiding in this toilet because Olive was so mean to me, always teasing me about my glasses and my pimples and... and," she started hiccuping, "and then I heard this boy and that wasn't right because he was a boy in the girl's bathroom and I wanted to chide him for being there..." her hiccup turned into sobs "so I opened the door and then I was dead. Dead!"
"I'm certain that must have been quite a traumatic experience, but usually you don't die from opening the door of a toilet stall. So what happened?"
"I cried very hard when I realized I was dead."
"Yes, yes," Raven rolled her eyes, "but what killed you?"
"I don't know because I was dead."
"But you're a ghost! You left your dead body behind and rose up in the air- you must have seen who or what killed you."
"It was so horrible." Myrtle whined.
"What was so horrible?"
"The monster."
"Okay, so there was a monster that killed you?"
"Of course, that's what I'm trying to tell you all the time but you never listen."
"I'm listening, dear Myrtle. Now, what kind of monster was it you saw?"
"I don't know. It was big and it had enormous eyes and scales..."
"Scales?" Now, that was interesting. The monster that Hagrid had hatched had been described as an arachnid, and arachnids didn't have scales... not even in the wizarding world. Also, arachnids weren't known for petrifying students but exactly that had happened to the unfortunate Muggleborns in 1943. A giant serpent, however, and more specifically the king of serpents, the Basilisk, could even kill with one single gaze. That must have happened to Myrtle. It had enormous eyes...
But what about the boy Myrtle had heard? If indeed a Basilisk had been on the loose in the bathroom, the boy must have become its victim, too- unless... was it possible that the Heir of Slytherin could control a Basilisk? After all, snakes were the legitimate pets of Slytherins.
"Tell me about the boy, dear Myrtle." Raven asked in the sweetest, most charming voice she could muster. "What did he look like?"
"He was... pretty. Dark hair, dark eyes, very handsome..."
"So it was definitely not Hagrid," Raven concluded.
"Don't you ever listen to me? I said, he was pretty. Hagrid isn't pretty; he's hairy."
"True."
Dark hair, dark eyes, very handsome... the first picture that popped up in Raven's mind's eye was that of Tom Riddle. Was he the Heir of Slytherin and therefore Lord Voldemort? But there was no Riddle mentioned in Salazar Slytherin's family tree; it ended with the Gaunt family.
She knew she was close to solving that mystery although there were still some parts of the puzzle missing.
Myrtle started wailing when her friend left the bathroom, too lost in thoughts to bother saying goodbye.
Lucius Malfoy was pleased with his young protégé. Despite his poor upbringing, the Snape boy did not eat like a pig but behaved decently during lunch. Lucius was proud of what he had accomplished last summer, when he had introduced the boy to the fine manners of pure-blood society. Snape was polite enough to not embarrass the other guests, which were mostly family. All of the Lestranges, his in-laws and fellow members of the fraternity, were there.
Narcissa was the perfect host; she had taken over that honour after Lucius' mother died the previous autumn. Of course, father would always find something to complain, but that only showed he still had not come to terms with the death of his wife. And didn't he look a little ailing recently? Lucius was watching him with keen grey eyes. He was the heir and he was more than ready to accept his inheritance.
The Dark Lord, however, was not dining with them, although he was the guest of honour. He would arrive at Malfoy Manor whenever he deigned to. The Dark Lord never dined in company of his followers and sometimes Lucius wondered if he ever ate at all. Perhaps a wizard as powerful as Lord Voldemort didn't need anything as mundane as food.
Severus was kind of nervous all throughout lunch, that's why he merely picked politely at his food even if it was probably superb- or at least very expensive. Nevertheless, it tasted like ash in his mouth and for the fraction of a second he wished to have lunch with the other Lestranges instead, because that was decidedly a merrier affair.
But he wasn't here in order to enjoy himself; he was here to meet the Dark Lord. A meeting, that might probably set the course for his future life.
Only a couple of weeks- or months- ago, he had been definite that such an opportunity would be his big, fat chance in life. He would have made sure the Dark Lord recognized his talents and welcomed him with open arms into his fraternity of pure-blood supremacists, even if he was just a lowly half-blood.
Now, he didn't really know what it was he wanted. Yes, he still wanted to rise from the dunghill of Spinner's End and become a mighty wizard. Someone, who was respected. Someone, Lily could love. He just wasn't certain anymore if joining Voldemort was the right way, thanks to a nagging voice in his head that sounded just like Raven Lestrange.
She believed he could do better than that, that he didn't need these blood supremacists. She had... faith in him.
Severus didn't know if he deserved that when he came face to face with the Dark Lord. He had dreaded that moment just as much as he had anticipated it.
Like back then at Lucius Malfoy's wedding, his first impression of the Dark Lord was that he radiated power; a dark, wonderful and horrible but nevertheless mesmerizing power that made Headmaster Dumbledore– allegedly the greatest wizard of modern times- appear like a barmy old codger in comparison.
Instinctively, Severus bowed deeply. His hands were sweaty and he hoped the Dark Lord would not hear the loud beating of his heart.
"Severus," the Dark Lord greeted him in a voice that was cold and almost friendly all the same; it sounded a bit like the hissing of a snake, "Lucius told me that you are quite a promising young man."
"My Lord, you honour me with too much premature praise," Severus replied politely, still averting his eyes.
"Do I?" Voldemort said with a mocking smirk that contorted his features in a not very beneficial way; his face looked like a grotesque mask. "Did Lucius lie to me when he said you knew more curses than a seventh year even before you came to Hogwarts?"
Severus shot a brief glance at Lucius who looked as though he wanted to kick him if he didn't come up with a satisfying answer.
"I... I happen to know a few curses, my Lord, but my knowledge pales in comparison to your power."
"Naturally." The Dark Lord seemed to be satisfied with that answer since it flattered him. "I appreciate your humble devotion, Severus. Let me look at you."
He stretched out a long-limbed, thin and pale finger to lift up Severus' chin. Now, Severus had to look at him; he couldn't avert his eyes any longer. The Dark Lord's finger felt cold against his skin, icy-cold, and he had to resist the impulse to shudder. Instead, he glanced at Voldemort with as much calm as he could muster, pretending he had nothing to hide. Would his Occlumency skills be strong enough to not arouse suspicion?
The Dark Lord's eyes were like cold pools of blackness rimmed in blood, and once again they didn't look at Severus but seemed to delve straight into his mind. Severus let him. Instead of slamming down his mental shutters completely, like anyone else would have done, he let the Dark Lord see his innermost thoughts- or what he had prepared for him. Memories of his Muggle father shouting at him, beating him. Memories of Potter, bullying him. His burning desire to get back at him. Flashbacks of everyday life at Hogwarts... but what mattered most to him, his love for Lily or his feelings for Raven and her family, he had hidden in boxes that were securely stored in a back room of his mind.
Voldemort never noticed the door with the 'no access' sign. He was pleased with what he saw- the young wizard's adoration, his yearning for recognition, for a better life.
What he was looking for in vain, though, was a trait that distinguished his most eager followers from merely nominal members of the fraternity- the fierce determination to stop at nothing for the cause, the willingness to torture, maim or kill if necessary. Severus Snape lacked that trait.
"Tell me, Severus, have you ever cast an Unforgivable?"
"No, my Lord. It would be dreadfully unwise to cast an Unforgivable Curse at a school ruled by Headmaster Dumbledore, wouldn't it?"
The Dark Lord smirked again, which was a truly terrifying thing to behold. Nevertheless, Severus was glad he had managed quite well so far since he wasn't dead yet.
"Dumbledore, the champion of commoners, of Mudbloods and Muggles!" Voldemort spat with undisguised loathing in his voice. But despite his gruesome features and the coldness of his voice, he nevertheless had the charisma of a Pied Piper that lured almost everyone into following him. "Don't you hate Dumbledore for constantly oppressing us Slytherins?"
"Yes, my Lord." Thinking about the werewolf incident last year and how the Headmaster had managed to hush things, that wasn't even a lie.
"Wouldn't you want to live in a better world, a world without Muggles or Mudbloods?"
"Yes, of course, my Lord, but-"
"But?" The Dark Lord hissed sharply, frowning at his new recruit. "Are you not aware of what I'm offering you?"
It almost sounded like a threat. Now, Severus had to be as honest as possible, tactically skilled and careful to give a diplomatic answer. "I am, my Lord. I truly am, and I feel flattered. But I'm not worthy your attention now, my Lord. I mean, I'm just a lowly half-blood and a school boy- I'm of no use for you. I have nothing to offer. In a couple of years, however, after I have gained my mastery in potions, I will be much more suited to aid your cause properly."
"A potioneer, and such a modest one." Voldemort sneered, then he glanced at Malfoy. "Did you hear his words, Lucius? Unlike others present, he doesn't ask for fortune and fame. Instead, he worries what he has to offer in order to please me. You could learn a lesson from your little protégé."
Malfoy looked murderous.
"You may leave now, Severus," the Dark Lord continued. Although the young half-blood was probably quite deft in the Dark Arts and therefore a worthy recruit, his true talents seemed to be of a more academic nature."Go and dabble with your potions until your time has come. In the meantime, I will keep an eye on the progress you make."
"My Lord, you are too kind."
"Yes, indeed," Voldemort chuckled maliciously, "bear that in mind, because one day, I will expect a favour from you."
"Anything, my Lord." Severus bit his tongue but the words had already slipped his lips. Damned! He hoped he hadn't just sold his soul to the devil. In Lord Voldemort's presence, it was so very easy to forget all he had learned about tyrants and dictators, and so very hard to be not impressed by the tantalizing power he radiated.
Raven was back in the library, hidden behind a stack of books she perused for hints about any possible connection between the Gaunt family and Tom Riddle. In the Almanac of Wizarding Genealogy, no family by the name of Riddle was listed.
Was that another dead end? On the other hand, could it really be just a coincidence that Tom's second name was Marvolo, like the father of Morfin and Merope Gaunt?
Deeply absorbed in her investigation, Raven almost didn't notice that Lily was also in the library when all of a sudden she heard her laughter. Turning around, she saw her giggling about whatever Potter had just said. Lily Evans was flirting with James bloody Potter of all people! Had she forgotten that he was an arrogant toerag? Did she really not care she was flirting with the very same bully that had constantly tormented her former best friend ?
It made Raven sick.
So much about Lily's friendship- it didn't mean anything.
Madam Pince cried for silence and Raven focussed her attention on the scions of Slytherin again. Back to the Gaunts. If Tom Riddle was the Heir of Slytherin, then one of them must have fathered an illegitimate offspring. Her best bet was on Morfin. Probably he had begotten a child with a witch too unimportant to be mentioned in the Almanac of Wizarding Genealogy... but when she checked Morfin's vita in comparison with Tom Riddle's birthday, she had to realize that that wasn't possible since Morfin was at Azkaban at the time Tom was sired.
Frustrated, she ran her fingers through her hair before she began to look for background information as to why Morfin had been sentenced to three years in Azkaban. Flipping through some old copies of the Daily Prophet, she came upon a newspaper article that described how Ministry of Magic investigator Bob Ogden visited the Gaunts to summon Morfin to a hearing at the Ministry for hexing a Muggle... and then Raven's eyes widened. The Muggle's name was Tom Riddle!
Now wasn't that strange?
According to the story, Marvolo Gaunt attacked Ogden so he too was arrested. The Wizengamot sentenced him to six month in Azkaban, and apparently he died there. His son Morfin, however, served his time and was released from Azkaban three years later.
In the meantime, his sister Merope had died.
Raven made notes of all these incidents. Then she stared at the parchment and marked two dates. That of Merope's day of death and that of the birth of a certain Tom Riddle- Hogwarts student, Slytherin, Prefect and Head Boy, Keeper of a Medal for Magical Merit and a shield-shaped award in gold for Special Services to Hogwarts, still on display in the trophy room.
One didn't have to excel in Arithmancy to realize that those two dates were identical. Merope Gaunt died the very same day Tom Riddle was born, and that couldn't be a coincidence. Speaking of coincidence, it most definitely wasn't one either that Morfin Gaunt got sentenced to three years in Azkaban for hexing a Muggle by the name of Tom Riddle.
Totally bewildered, Raven gaped at her notes.
Tom Riddle junior and senior?
No, that couldn't be- it was too absurd...
He hated Side-Along Apparition, especially when the Apparator didn't seem to give a damn whether he landed safe or almost face down in the mud of thawed snow and dirty soil. He wished he'd already had his own license...
Indignantly, Severus glared at Lucius Malfoy- who suddenly brandished his wand and aimed it at him. Only a moment later, he felt a pain as sharp and cruel as he had never experienced before. It made him wince until he was on his knees, writhing in the mud.
The occasional blows he had received from his father were nothing in comparison to that.
And then it ended, just as abruptly as it had begun.
Malfoy sneered at him. "Now, that will teach you a lesson, Snape."
"What the f-"
"If you ever dare to embarrass me again, like you did today, I swear I will kill you."
Severus stumbled to his feet, astonished about Lucius' reaction. He arched a brow at his mentor. "Oh, I doubt that would be wise, Lucius," he said slowly. "The Dark Lord seemed to be quite taken by my... modesty. I'm certain he won't approve to my sudden demise."
"You ingrate little swot," Malfoy hissed before he spun around. With a loud POP he was gone.
Severus smirked inwardly. He flicked his wand and a non-verbal Scourgify later his robes were clean again. Then he made his way from the outskirts of Hogsmeade to Hogwarts castle, contemplating the recent incident with Lucius Malfoy. Apparently, the elitist pure-blood was quite envious of him, because he had managed to impress the Dark Lord without immediately joining his ranks, and therefore Malfoy had used a mild Cruciatus Curse on him. Severus knew it had only been a mild one... otherwise he wouldn't be able to walk now.
She was a total mess, Regulus noticed immediately when she ran into him, laughing almost hysterically. What amused her so?
Why should he care?
True, she was desirable- despite her questionable birth. And Raven Lestrange had fooled him about that, and he had let it happen because... yes, he liked her. Somehow. Of course, she wasn't the kind of girl he wanted to marry, and she was most definitely not the kind of girl he could present to his family... but he wouldn't kick her out of his bed either...
Regulus would have even gone to Hogsmeade with her, if only just to irk his brother. He knew Sirius had his eyes on her but would never openly admit that because she was a Slytherin...
Now, however, she was a mess. Her hair was tousled and she had ink splotches smeared all over her hands and face. It didn't render her less attractive, though.
"What's up, Lestrange?"
"Oh, it's just a very... funny idea," she chuckled, wiping her eyes; tears of laughter were mingling with ink splotches.
"Obviously." Lestrange was an enigma to Regulus but fortunate he didn't care about her at all. It was merely his good upbringing that dictated him to hold open the door to their respective common room for her, sketching a bow. "Ladies first."
She flashed him a sweet smile that seemed to say, you're a charming boy, with the emphasis on boy, and he wondered why that bugged him so much. After all, he wasn't interested in her anyway.
She was of dubious parentage, not very popular among her peers and to boot, even less social than Snape. Unlike him, though (at least he was trying to fit in- albeit with little success) Lestrange didn't seem to give a damn about what others thought of her. She was simply doing her very own thing... and a part of Regulus admired her for her guts, just like a very tiny part of him would always admire Sirius for going his own way, because he believed in what he did. Of course, Regulus didn't doubt his purpose in life either. The road to a bright future was lying straight ahead of him, he merely had to follow it. And yet, there were times he wished it wouldn't be so... predictable.
He stole a quick glance at her as she walked past him into the Slytherin common room, and he saw her eyes lit up for the fraction of a second when they fell on Snape. That very instant Regulus knew she was in love with Snivellus of all people.
When Severus finally reached the Slytherin common room, he was tired and mentally exhausted, wishing he could just scamper to his dormitory to be alone. But it was a well-known secret that he had met the Dark Lord today, so instead of being able to enjoy solitude, he was suddenly surrounded by more friends than he could count, receiving more attention than ever before in his years at Hogwarts.
At first, Severus felt flattered by their sudden interest in him. Then he realized that they were only interested in hearing stories about the Dark Lord. He, himself as a person, was expendable. Irrelevant.
Where had they all been when he'd been in need of friends? Why were his house mates always conspicuous by their absence when the Marauders attacked him four on one... or sometimes four on two? And where was the only person he could stand to see now?
Severus let his eyes sweep across the common room, looking for Raven.
She wasn't there.
Instead, Avery and Mulciber kept on pestering him with questions about the Dark Lord. They actually reminded him of Muggle rock-star groupies in their tittering eagerness, only that they were groupies of the Dark...
Wilkes, a blond-haired seventh year prefect, put an end to that. "Gentlemen, do I really have to remind you to be more discreet?"
Mulciber pulled a face. "We were merely asking a couple of questions."
Avery said something in response, but Severus wasn't listening. Raven had just entered the Slytherin common room, smiling at Regulus Black, who had opened the door for her.
It was so good to see her, although that came along with a strange, sharp and sudden pang of jealousy due to the way she smiled at the Black boy. Then, however, she glanced in his direction and her eyes lit up in reassurance that they were still best friends.
She didn't linger in the common room but went straight to her dormitory, and Severus excused himself only a little later, saying he was tired.
Which was true.
He was bone-weary, and yet he couldn't find sleep. After tossing and turning in his strongly warded four-poster bed for a couple of hours, dreaming briefly of blood-rimmed eyes, he gave up. Silently, he sneaked back into the common room.
The fire in the fireplace was still burning, and someone was sitting in front of it on the floor, cross-legged, smoking Muggle fags .
A tiny little smile curled up his lips as he sat down next to Raven, enjoying the warmth of the fireplace but even more the warmth she radiated.
"You alright?"
She turned her face at him and he saw the treacherous silver streaks of tears on her cheeks.
"Yeah," she lied, feigning a smirk, "and you?"
"I'm fine," he lied as well.
Raven nodded. She took a deep drag on her cigarette, inhaled the smoke and exhaled it into perfectly round rings.
"You know, I thought that probably you couldn't sleep. I was waiting for you."
Severus didn't reply. He stared at the flames in the fireplace, the way they crackled over the dry wood, making the resin burst in tiny explosions of sparks. The peacefulness of the scene was somewhat surreal
"If you don't want to talk about it, it's okay with me."
Still, he didn't utter a word, but after endless moments of silence, he finally deigned to glance at her.
"Maybe tomorrow..."
"Sev," Raven gasped, aghast at the desperation in his voice, "is there anything I can do for you?"
"Give me one of your stupid fags."
She did, since he had asked so nicely. For a while they were smoking in companionable silence before Severus slowly began to tell her of today's events and Lucius' reaction. Raven listened without interrupting him but inwardly she cursed Malfoy.
"He's so very, very powerful..."
Looking at him, she saw a vision of the Dark Lord flashing up in Severus' mind's eye, and she felt torn between his feelings of admiration, repulsion and anxiety.
"And yet you managed to fool him," she whispered.
He merely snorted.
"No, honestly, Sev- how many wizards can say of themselves that they stood before the Dark Lord and defied him without him noticing it?"
"Tut! What have I gained? Nothing! Nothing, except for a few more years of freedom perhaps, so that I can finish my education and be of better use for him. Damned, I even promised to do him any favour he asks for!"
"Yes, and that was strategically a very wise move in order to not arouse suspicion."
Lily would have scolded him for that very wise move, Severus realized- but that exactly was the difference between Gryffindors and Slytherins. Slytherins would always try to save their own hide and weasel themselves out of any tight situation, while Gryffindork would rather sacrifice themselves for their beliefs and go down in a blaze of glory...
"Look on the bright side, Sev," Raven said as she gently touched his left arm, "you're not branded cattle yet."
He wanted to remind her that only the inner circle of the fraternity was given the Dark Mark, but her thumb stroking his forearm was unnerving him, and that wasn't right. His treacherous body always seemed to forget that Raven was only a good friend to him (because the only girl he would ever love was Lily!) and therefore it shouldn't react to Raven's touch with... lust. It was despicable. If only it wouldn't feel so damned good, the way she caressed him. For a fraction of a second he even thought about kissing her- her lips were looking so tantalizing...
Lost in thoughts, she stared at her thumb running up and down his left forearm. His skin was so soft and so fortunately not marred by any ugly Dark Mark... then she realized what she was doing and, blushing, let go of his arm. Averting his eyes, Raven recalled the picture of Voldemort she had seen in Severus' mind.
It didn't resemble that of pretty young Tom Riddle at all.
Had she been wrong in her conclusion that Tom Riddle junior was Lord Voldemort? She'd almost had a hysteric fit of laughter when the idea had first popped up in her mind- Madam Pince had actually sent her out of the library and told her to not come back until she had calmed down again- and probably the idea was really too absurd to be true.
No. There was no other possibility. There couldn't be that many coincidences, no matter how unlikely her theory was. Or wasn't it?
"Sev," she said, startling him out of his revery, "if I told you that Lord V, the Heir of Slytherin, was likely once known as Tom Riddle, a Slytherin model student with a Medal for Magical Merit, keeper of an award for Special Services to Hogwarts- and a half-blood- would you call my conclusion ironic or simply absurd?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"My research made me believe that The Dark Lord is possibly a half-blood by the name of Tom Riddle."
He gaped at her, knowing she usually was quite thorough in her research and therefore there was no reason to believe she was making fun of him. But could it really be true?
And did it even matter at all?
The shadows in the Slytherin common room seemed to be getting darker again, a constant reminder of the promise he had given.
Anything, my Lord, he had so foolishly gushed, fascinated by the Dark Lord's power and not thinking clearly. Now, all he could hope for was that he hadn't sold his soul to the devil then- whatever his blood status was.