Chapter 24
What Goes Up, Must Come Down
Severus Snape stared out into the approaching darkness, a pale luminescent moon shining bright in a cloudy black sky. He sat perched on a comfortable high backed chair with his legs crossed, an angry gargoyle – his eyes darting back and forth over a magnificent view. There was a large fountain to his left shooting water streaks high in the air, beautiful marble statues placed all around it. A freshly manicured green lawn stretched before him, the grass provided with more water than some villages. The lawn led to a large garden maze, the hedges trimmed in the shapes of fantastical beasts. A large white peacock could be seen wandering among the lawn, oblivious to the beauty it possessed. The Malfoy backyard garden and hedge maze was a truly magnificent scene, but it always had an ominous feel to it – as if the riches they possessed were tainted by an underlying malevolence. Snape never felt truly comfortable at the ostentatious manor, a common peasant would never feel completely at ease in rich cloth.
"And what do you believe Severus?" icily asked Lucius Malfoy, his question tinged with arrogance and entitlement.
"I…I don't know what to believe."
"Did he tell you it was the Dark Lord?"
"He did not say…"
"My mark had begun to tingle and now…nothing."
"It is the same for me Lucius."
Lucius slowly circled the stone patio that overlooked his garden maze. His mind thought back to the old times, when terrified prey was forced to flee within the maze, hunted down for sport, their cries ringing out…
Lucius yearned for the way it was, before the Dark Lord fell. He swirled an ivory chalice in his manicured hand, staring into the dark red wine it held. The rich bouquet floated up to his nostrils, filling him with lost memories.
"Is it?"
Snape turned towards Lucius. So arrogant, so brash…yet he was a friend. Well, at least Snape's pathetic definition for a friend was. Not someone who truly liked or cared for him, but rather, someone who spoke to him with a modicum of respect, didn't constantly berate him and occasionally traded favors. Still the man could be intolerable.
"Still wary of me, even after all the years we've known each other? After all we've been through together? Still I have to suffer disrespect at your hands?"
"What am I to think? What should our brothers think? With you playing lackey for that senile fool all these long years!"
"You're unbelievable, just like the rest of them!" Severus angrily spat as he rose from his seat. "We all did what we had to, to stay safe, to survive, to escape the bleak future of Azkaban. You convinced the Ministry you were imperiused! Walden claimed he had been coerced! Karkaroff turned on us and even named names!"
"Do not lump me in with that traitorous swine Severus!"
"Not all of us were born a Malfoy, could sneak our way out of prison by greasing the right palms. I should have rotted in jail like your precious sister-in-law? Gone mad just to prove my worth?!"
Severus was now in a rage, his voice raising higher. Lucius glanced back towards the house. He thought he saw a tuft of white hair flash behind a curtain.
"Severus control yourself. Lower your voice when you're in my house."
"Forgive me for discovering an escape opportunity and seizing it. It's cunning shrewdness when Lucius avoids punishment, but when the lowly Severus eschews those same shackles it's an act of betrayal and cowardice!"
Lucius did not answer, but rather turned away and stared blankly at the white peacock ambling about the lush lawn.
"You tell the other fallen who whisper behind my back – oh yes, I know what they say about me, the cowards who whisper falsehoods while hidden in the shadows – that I'm still faithful. For only He can judge me, only He knows my true loyalty. Tell the fallen they can no longer count on me. I will continue to serve the Dark Lord in my own way. It is only He who I must answer to."
"Calm down Severus. No knows who to trust anymore. But you've spent years with one of our greatest enemies, that muggle loving filth. You've had an entire year to exact retribution on the boy and avenge Him."
"Forgive me Lucius, for I'm just a simpleton, not as ingenious as you. I find it difficult to orchestrate the death of a child under the protection of Dumbledore and the entire Hogwarts faculty."
"The Dark Lord must be avenged! He would reward us beyond measure!"
"After killing the boy I'd be sentenced to a lifetime of imprisonment. What would become of me? We do not even know if it was Him who appeared last year!"
"The Dark Lord comes before our wants, before our desires, before all!"
"Then you do it!"
Lucius and Snape stared hard at each other, heaving and panting. With a mutinous scowl, Snape swung on his traveling cloak and stalked off the patio. He headed for the front gate, black gravel crunching under his boot. Mistrusted by the Order, doubted by the remaining Death Eaters, welcomed by no one. Snape never fit in, was never fully embraced, a misanthrope in the truest sense of the word.
The moon emerged from behind a large cloud and threw relief onto the slinking figure.
Snape's face was as pale and gaunt as ever, but no scars were present. And his gait appeared spry, there was no telltale sign of the limp he suffered as a result the violence he endured at the end of the last school year. The dark magic injuries he suffered just months before had not lingered in the slightest.
When Snape reached the large metal gate guarding the entrance to Malfoy Manor, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vile – a viscous green liquid shone through it. He removed a small handkerchief from his breast pocket, delicately unwrapping it. It held finite pieces of a red dust, very fine powder. He tipped the red dust into the green liquid and watched the mixture turn a pale blue.
He downed the contents of the vial in one gulp, dropped the handkerchief and apparated on the spot. As the potent healing cocktail coursed through his body, he smiled to himself and gave a contented sigh. I should have saved more of it! Snape had promised Dumbledore he would destroy the fabled stone, for it was too powerful an instrument to keep intact. He had not followed his orders quite to the letter, but now…the last vestiges of the Philosopher's Stone were no more.
Lucius watched Snape walk up the long road to his home and disappear in a flash. Severus Snape – what to make of that man? Sullen and bellicose, always rubbing people the wrong way, yet a powerful wizard who would be vital to revitalizing the dark movement. He would be back, Severus never stayed mad at me for long. But could he be trusted?
Lucius' thoughts then turned toward more selfish designs. He had heard whispers that the Dark Lord had made an appearance at Hogwarts during the last school year, however nothing could be substantiated. Lucius felt a chill in the air and opened the patio door, entering into a lavish dining room. A handsome chestnut table lay in the center, on top of a handmade Persian carpet. Fine china in glass cabinets adorned the walls, with a large portrait of a scowling wizard glaring down at the head of the table. Lucius noticed the curtains moving, a shifting shadow concealed beneath them.
"Come now Draco, off to bed!" Lucius commanded. God, I hope the boy begins to exhibit some more quality as he matures. Lucius exited the dining room and headed for the basement stairs. Down a circular staircase and into an opulent office. Lucius locked the door and sat down at a large maple wood desk, the Slytherin crest carved into each of the desk legs. Pictures of his family lay atop the desk, along with pictures of Lucius hobnobbing with famous wizards and dignitaries.
Lucius ran his hands along the underside of the desk and pulled on a concealed tab. A loud click echoed within the room and the center of the desk slide open. Lucius reached in and withdrew a rather ordinary-looking leather bound notebook, a faded diary. It was quite plain and appeared as though it came from a common muggle bookshop.
Lucius opened the diary and flipped through the blank pages, as he had done a thousand times before. Nothing. Blood empty. He ran his hands along the pages, willingly something to appear. Speak to me! In the last ten years Lucius had come to his basement office a thousand times to study the diary, had casted a multitude of spells on it – anti-concealment charms, revealing spells, ancient incantations. But alas, the diary had refused to yield its secrets to the wizard. He knew others may have been able to elicit a response from the dark object, but he dared not risk showing to anyone.
The Dark Lord had given the diary to Lucius during the First Wizarding War, soon after Lucius had fought with valor during an attack on the Order. Lucius had expected a rich reward and was at first disappointed when presented with the diary. Lord Voldemort's shrill laugh still echoed in Lucius' memories…"Unsatisfied with your reward my faithful Death Eater? Fear not my soldier, for this book has powers you not yet know. It is a key, a key to unlocking a great power hidden deep with the school"…shivers ran through Lucius as he thought back to that day.
Had the Dark Lord appeared, finally, after all this time? Resurrected from beyond the grave? He had hoped Severus could have confirmed his hopes, but alas even he did not know. Lucius was left with doubt, more questions than answers. We had been so close back then, so damn close to achieving perfection…before that damned Potter child. Lucius closed his eyes, his mind rolling over the possible actions and associated outcomes. He spoke aloud to himself, slowly weighing the pros and cons of each scenario. When he opened his eyes some time later, he had finally come to a decision.
In one fell swoop he would kill three birds with one stone. He would ruin the reputation of that insufferable blood traitor Arthur Weasley, besmirching that family's name beyond repair; once and for all he would expunge the hallowed halls of Hogwarts of all that muggle born filth; and remove an incriminating dark artifact from his home. The Ministry had been poking around lately, a little too close for comfort. I will need to plant the diary on one of those red headed mutts, and the forthcoming havoc would then be traced back to them, if traced at all. All problems solved, a coup de grâce.
A wide grin spread across Lucius' face as he silently congratulated himself on such a clever plan. Lucius would remember this feeling of smug satisfaction with irony three years later, as he writhed around in agony at the feet of his risen leader. For the Dark Lord had told his faithful Death Eater that the diary was imbued with powerful dark magic and could open the Chamber of Secrets, thereby transforming Hogwarts into a bastion of pureblood power. But he had not entrusted his soldier with the most important fact about the diary. That is contained it more than dark magic, contained more than just a key…it contained a piece of a soul. A piece of the soul of the greatest dark wizard of all time.
Lucius ensconced the diary in black silk cloth and slipped it into his breast pocket. He closed the secret compartment in his desk, rose and left the office in a hurry, euphoria flowing over him at the diabolical simplicity of his plan. He was too excited to notice that he was not alone within the office. Two bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls watched him walk out the room, panic floating in the dark pupils. Harry Potter must not be allowed to go back to Hogwarts!