I do not own Harry Potter.
Voldemort's Change in Tactics
Perhaps there had been a flaw in the resurrection ritual, perhaps there hadn't. But Voldemort had clearly gone insane. More than he had been prior to his defeat in 1981. The beast now no longer used footwear, and refused to send his clothes to the laundry and he most probably slept with a snake his bed! Not to mention that he did resemble one himself. He threw tantrums when things didn't go his way and was even fonder of the cruciatus than ever before! Every meeting ended with tortured screams. Every meeting began with entering a room containing a fool of a so called 'Lord' who refused to bathe.
So now, it was well established amongst those regularly meeting him that the monster stank. He reeked of sweat and mold and something else, Severus just couldn't put his finger on. The awful stench reached their noses even if the members, those higher in the Death Eater ranks who were called for these meetings, chose to sit as far away from him as possible.
And with all that coupled with new hairbrained schemes of taking over the world which essentially meant that step one included getting rid of Harry Potter, it was all Severus could do not to take off his mask, throw it at the monster's feet and storm off.
Between being tied to him and being tied to Dumbledore, Severus was sure he would one day rip into two if he didn't take the chance and shake at least one of them off.
What hadn't changed about Voldemort, though, were his reflexes in the form of the unforgivables. No other spell was as well practiced as these and Voldemort was quite proud of them. Hence Severus realised that should he try the above mentioned stunt, he definitely wouldn't have made it out alive. And he most definitely wouldn't have had a painless death.
The link tying Severus to Dumbledore was way out of his reach. His vow to keep Lily's wish alive, the life and safety of her son. The son she willingly died for... She was gone, but her wish lingered above his head. Her wish couldn't be undone, but Dumbledore managed to grab hold of one end and tie the other around Severus's neck. If he pulled away, the noose would tighten, metaphorically speaking...Severus's conscience would never let him live in peace if he chose to give up continuing what Lily died accomplishing.
So that was why he had to juggle between classes, marking essays, make necessary potions, Potter's Occlumency lessons, Order meetings, Staff meetings, Voldemort's meetings and personal Dumbledore - Severus meetings. That's just what Severus's life revolved around, that's just how his days passed. That's just what he would do for the rest of his life.
Severus hated all his tasks. Hence he hated his life. But what Severus hated the most was the meetings he was forced to attend with fellow marked followers, headed by an overgrown immature child who wanted to 'take over the world'.
The day after his ressurection, he founded a new way of assigning tasks to his followers. He got them aligned by the wall of Malfoy's dining hall, and then had them approach the big table, at whose head he was already seated, and choose a seat. They weren't allowed to sit on their selected chairs, though. They needed wait until all his followers had chosen the seat.
Then, he would ring a bell and they would all sit, like dogs responding to their sadistic master's commands. Then he'd press a button that he'd installed at the head of the table and a sound of flatulence would be emanated from an embarrassed follower's chair and that person was given the honours of doing Voldemort's bidding for the night. Yes, night it was. For according to the monster, night was the time everyone else was asleep. Who did he think he was? Wee Willie Winkie?
His tasks ranged from trivial unnecessary ones to very grave unnecessary ones. However, for the accomplishment of such tasks, Voldemort wasn't interested in skill. He decided to choose equality over skill. And so this random manner of choosing an eligible candidate in the form of gas release was his best choice.
Once, about a week after his ressurection, Pettigrew ended up on the 'flatulent chair' as Voldemort fondly called it, and he was forced to make himself an illegal international portkey to Hawaii and bring back with him the recipe for a muggle alcoholic fruit drink, that sounded suspiciously like tikki. Crabbe Senior was made to set up a bar in the Malfoy Manor and learn how to make those drinks, because Quirrel had gone there once during the Christmas vacation in 1991 and tasted it and Voldemort, having being stuck at the back of Quirrel's head, never really got enough of it.
Another time, he had Alecto Carrow's twin sister give Nagini a bath. Apparently, she had glided into the droppings of Malfoy's white peacocks. Severus never saw hair nor hide of her since. He could only assume the worst.
Another time, the offending sound came from the two chairs that flanked his. Nott and Selvyn got to go to Azkaban to free his loyal, most trusted supporters.
From then on things spiralled badly. That hag, Bellatrix Lestrange was absolutely unbearable. She ordered them around, kicked them when she was displeased and even managed to boss Voldemort into making his followers do things he normally wouldn't make them do. Severus wondered if he would make it unscathed if he tricked Crabbe into putting some quick acting poison in her drink.
Then the day arrived. The Death Eaters stood in a line by the wall. Even Bellatrix wasn't exempted from this, er, ritual. Voldemort cooly got off his chair, walked up to Malfoy and said, "Lucius, do you remember a certain diary I had given you so many years ago?"
"Of course, my Lord."
"What have you done with it?"
"I g-gave it to Arthur Weasley's daughter, m-my Lord."
"You what!? Voldemort hissed. "You fool! You blubbering imbecile, you - just a minute what's the state of the diary.'
"P-potter d-destroyed it, my-"
"Cru-" Voldemort stopped with a cold, cruel smile. "oh, no. I won't cruciate you. Ah, Lucius, you will be the subject of my new method for torture."
He lashed out his wand and Lucius fell down, his body trussed up like a chicken, with his feet in the air.
With another swish, a chair moved away from the others. Voldemort moved to his spot at the head of the table, sat down and said, "Choose a seat... Bella, it's time you chose different chair. If everyone took the same seat, it would make the game predictable, which I do not desire".
Bellatrix huffed and moved over to where Severus stood, effectively throwing him from his chosen seat. With an eye roll, and dearly hoping, as usual, that it wouldn't be his turn for the humiliation, he moved to stand in the place she had been thrown out from, the seat right next to Voldemort. Luckily for him, he took a nose stuffing potion before every meeting that blocked out all smell.
And his chair farted.
Severus shot up as though he was stung, a dull flush creeping up his usually stoic face. This was so utterly embarrassing! Dumbledore was going to have the laugh of his life. Not that he wasn't already tickled to death by Voldemort's new methods.
And to make things worse, of all the days he could have been chosen (he wouldn't have even minded being a barman!) he was selected now, to aid the monster in his new means of torture.
Bellatrix let out a strangled howl that everyone chose to ignore.
"Ah, Severus." Voldemort said gleefully. "Go north, would you? And fetch me a handful of fresh male eider duck feathers."
By now nothing surprised Severus. But he was glad that all he had to do was to get eider duck feathers. Pardon. Fresh male eider duck feathers.
By the time Severus returned from north with a mixture of black and white feathers, he'd managed to dry himself and get rid of all the feathers and muck that stuck to his clothes and hair. Inspite of summoning the ducks to him from where they slept in the water, their struggle had been enough to put him in a state of disarray. Thoroughly annoyed, and yet unable to find means of venting out his feelings, with the absence of any student's homework essay that he could insult to his heart's content, he strode into the Malfoy's dining hall.
By now, Bellatrix too, was tied up just like Lucius.
"Ah, Severus." Voldemort said. "I'm glad. You haven't missed much. My dear Bellatrix was throwing a fit for closely missing her chance of being the one to sit in the most esteemed flatulent chair."
Severus merely raised an eyebrow, but if anyone was able to break into his mind and see what he was thinking, they would have fallen to the floor... Dead.
"Hand me the feathers, Severus." Voldemort said.
Severus did so obediently and then stepped back and watched alongside everyone with baited breaths as Voldemort faced Bellatrix and Lucius, spelled off his their gags and shoes with a simple flick and calmly charmed the feathers in his claw like hand to fly to his prisoners, the black ones moved to Lucius and the white to Bellatrix.
With another flick, the feathers began to tickle their feet.
Lucius let out a grunt, but Bellatrix gave a raw squeal, both trying their best but failing to wriggle out of their bonds.
Voldemort turned to the others and said, "Dismissed. Meet me next Saturday with your reports, same time, same place. Severus, you will come and untie them in exactly three hours from now.'
Lucius let out a pathetic, undignified wail, and Bellatrix screamed and giggled at the same time
"Please, Lord! Have mercy! I beg you!"
Voldemort silenced her and spoke musingly to no one in particular, "This truly seems more effective than the cruciatus. Less than a minute and they're screaming for mercy... Three hours, Severus. If you try to help them out at any point of time before eleven thirty tonight, I Will know. And you will not like the consequences."
Severus suppressed a shudder, looked at him steadily and said, "Of course, my Lord."
"You may go."
Severus bowed and did his best not to run out of the house. Voldemort must have cancelled his silencing charm, for Severus heard Bellatrix screech pathetically just before he disapperated to Hogsmead.
Severus shook his head in frustration. The new Voldemort, though mad, was just too intimidating...for the simple reason that Severus didn't know what to expect. He found the unpredictability of the situation almost unbearable. Considering that unpredictability in a opponent was something Severus hated.
He made his way to the Hogsmead station and climbed into a threstal carriage and let it take him to the main doors of the castle.
When he entered, found Harry Potter anxiously pacing the length of the Entrance Hall.
"Potter!" he snapped. "What are you doing here?"
Potter startled but rushed towards him when he saw him. He seemed almost relieved to see him. Him, Severus! And Severus tightened his grip on his wand, just to be careful. Perhaps, Potter too was going crazy? What a fine pair he and Voldemort would make!
"Professor, I know I'm supposed to keep a closed mind. I just couldn't do it today. He was too angry... Here, take this." he held out an opaque vial and a piece of parchment that contained the instructions for brewing a potion. "This is a nerve numbing potion that comes into action whenever you are tickled. It prevents you from feeling ticklish."
Severus refused to touch it, but sneered hatefully at the boy, "You made it?"
"I- Yes, Sir." he said with a shake of his head. "I did it to protect myself against my cousin. He'd trap me under his weight and tickle me to no end when he was in one of his cruel moods. Two gulps give a lasting effect of twenty four hours."
"Why are you giving this to me?" Severus asked with a cruel sneer, "Does its side effects include an eruption of boils? A transformation into a bat? A change in the pitch of the drinker's voice?"
Potter flushed but said, "No! I drink the same thing! I know how horrible it is, ok? The tickling while you are helpless, I mean. I just don't want you to go through it. It's not human."
Severus scowled, but ignored the vial. Instead he snatched the written recipe and said, "I don't trust your brewing, Potter. If ever I want to sprout wings, I'll drink a potion that you brew. The recipe on the other hand would do me some good."
Potter looked a little put out but nodded.
"Of course, Sir. Right then, I'll see you on Monday for remedial potions."
Potter then rushed up the marble stairs. Severus followed him a moment later, to head to Dumbledore's office to fill him up with the new developments, thinking to himself that having Potter around might not be that horrible a thing. Bad, most definitely. Horrible, perhaps not.
But looking at the potion, he wondered if it was all a joke. It was just too simple! Only three ingredients for the potion? Ridiculous. Potter was trying to make a monkey of him. Severus crumpled the parchment and banished it to the trash in his quarters.
When he reached the dining hall of the Malfoy Manor at eleven thirty and ten seconds, the feathers had disappeared, but Bellatrix was sobbing and Lucius, who was positively howling, had appeared to have lost control of his bladder.
Severus wrinkled his nose. He vanished their ropes and left without a word. Rushing back to Hogwarts and to his quarters, he swallowed his pride, took out the piece of parchment from the trash and gave Potter's instructions for a tickle resistance remedy another chance.
Indeed, he thought while reading through the recipe and making some sense of the four ingredients now that his emotions weren't in that much of a turmoil, Potter might not be that stupid either.