Beneath the Ruins, Pitch Blackness.
The air was thick with dust, the smell of Blast-Ended Skrewt saliva, and the lingering gingery scent of evaporated hair tonic.
"Lumos!" Snape's voice, suppressing a volcanic rage, pierced the darkness.
A cold light erupted from the tip of his wand, illuminating the cramped space.
It was a triangular hollow formed by collapsed stage planks, shattered chandeliers, and Dumbledore's massive muscular frame.
Snape was crushed at the very bottom, his face pressed against the floorboards.
Grindelwald was straddling Snape's waist (claiming he needed the height to reach the rocks above).
Dumbledore lay sideways like a mountain of meat, propping his head up with one hand (maintaining the pose despite throwing out his back), while his other hand firmly gripped Voldemort's ankle (to stop him from crawling away).
And Voldemort was curled up like a frightened hamster, burying his head in Ivan's stomach.
Ivan was backed against the wall, the hair tonic tattoo on his back flashing green like a malfunctioning neon sign.
"Gellert," Snape squeezed the words out through his teeth, sounding like a cat whose tail had been stepped on because his face was squashed flat, "if you dig your knee into my spine one more time, I will give you a prostate massage via Sectumsempra."
"Don't be so petty, Severus," Grindelwald said nonchalantly as he tried to pry loose a stone slab. "This is a 'Tactical Human Pyramid.' Besides, your waist is thinner than I expected. Lack of exercise, clearly. Back when I dug the dungeons at Nurmengard, I could bench press two trolls."
"That's because you have muscles instead of a brain!" Snape roared. "You're digging in the wrong direction! The exit is North! Are you trying to drill to the core of the earth?!"
"Art is an explosion, and so is excavation!" Grindelwald didn't stop; instead, he waved his wand even harder. "Avada... Kedavra-Dig!"
BOOM!
A green light exploded, sending gravel flying.
A rock fell precisely down the back of Snape's collar.
"AHHH! Freezing!" Snape let out a scream entirely unbefitting his aloof persona. "Gellert! I'm going to kill you!"
Just as the two were about to duel beneath the rubble...
The tattoo on Ivan's back suddenly lit up with a blinding red light.
Immediately after, a mechanical voice, processed through a modulator, echoed from Ivan's back in the small space:
> [System Warning: Detected "Intelligence Vacuum" nearby. Activating Automated Defense Mechanism: Toxic Tongue Mode · MAX.]
> [Target Locked: Tom Riddle.]
> [Quote Library Loaded: Professor Snape's Private Collection · Vicious Roast Compilation.]
The next second.
The tattoo seemed to come alive. The image of the giant hair tonic bottle twisted and morphed into Snape's sneering face.
"Oh, look who it is?" The tattoo spoke with Snape's signature drawl, dripping with sarcasm. "If it isn't Mr. Riddle, who can't even keep a nose on his face. What? Looking for a pacifier in the rubble? Do you need me to cast a 'Call Mommy' charm for you?"
Voldemort, who had been burying his head in Ivan's stomach trembling, jerked his head up at the sound, staring in horror at the glowing green face on Ivan's back.
"S... Snape?" Voldemort trembled. "Why are you on Potter's back? Did you get turned into a tattoo too?"
"Shut up, you nose-less failure!" The tattoo unleashed its full toxicity. "Only a moron like Potter is fit to carry my wisdom! As for you? Your brain is probably the size of a Blast-Ended Skrewt's droppings! Oh, I've insulted droppings. At least they can be fertilizer. You can only be a joke!"
Voldemort's face turned liver-purple instantly.
Being mocked for having no nose was the pain of his life.
Being mocked to his face by Snape's tattoo was double the pain.
"I... I am the Dark Lord!" Voldemort retorted with a sob. "I ruled the wizarding world!"
"Ruled?" The tattoo sneered. "Did you rule the Dementors of Azkaban? or did you rule the plastic surgery clinics of the Muggle world? Look at the top of your head. That little pink pigtail looks exactly like a glow stick in the dark! One that's running out of battery!"
"WAAAH—!!"
Voldemort broke down.
He covered his ears, tears streaming down his face. "Quirrell! Quirrell! Snape is bullying me! Even his tattoo is bullying me! I want to go home! I want my mom!"
Ivan shrank awkwardly into the corner. "Um... Tom, I really can't control this. It's Professor Snape's 'Residual Consciousness'..."
"And you, Potter!" The tattoo suddenly swiveled to face Ivan (figuratively, since it was on his back). "Is your entire brain capacity dedicated to thinking up scams? If we cut your head open, it would probably smell like Galleons! Also, your hairstyle is so ugly it looks like a Skrewt sat on it!"
Ivan: "..."
Low damage, high emotional insult.
While Voldemort cried his heart out, and Snape and Grindelwald slapped each other (physically) over "dig left or dig right"...
The Blast-Ended Skrewt, which had been playing dead nearby, moved.
It had been pinned under Dumbledore earlier, but now it finally wiggled free.
Having won the competition, it now considered itself the King of this place.
It climbed onto Dumbledore's chest (who couldn't move due to his thrown-out back) and looked down at everyone.
Then, it turned its gaze to Quirrell in the corner.
"Sec... retary..." The Skrewt issued a low command.
Quirrell paused. "Huh?"
"SEC—RE—TARY—!" The Skrewt sprayed a jet of acid, precisely corroding a rock by Quirrell's foot.
Quirrell was scared out of his wits and scrambled over on all fours. "Here! Boss! I'm the secretary! What are your orders?"
The Skrewt used its tail to pick up a bottle of hair tonic (Snape's Special Reserve) that had rolled out of the rubble unbroken, and handed it to Quirrell.
Then it pointed to its own carapace, which was a bit dry from breathing fire earlier.
"You... you want a SPA treatment?" Quirrell understood. "A shell care treatment using Professor Snape's hair tonic?"
The Skrewt nodded and let out a satisfied purr.
Dumbledore, lying underneath and tilting his head to watch this, shed tears of regret from his old eyes.
"Gellert..." Dumbledore said weakly. "Our era is over. It is the age of the Skrewt now... Ouch! My back!"
"Stop whining, Albus!" Grindelwald was wrestling with Snape and had to distract himself to reply. "Once I dig us out, I'm turning that lizard into a taxidermy specimen! Hanging it right on the gates of Nurmengard!"
"You dare!" The Skrewt seemed to understand and gave the back of Grindelwald's head a giant lick.
"URGH! It's all saliva!" Grindelwald was so grossed out he almost let go. "Severus! Control your student's pet! It licked my neck! I'm going to get rabies!"
Snape, crushed at the very bottom, had given up resisting.
He stared blankly at the wooden planks above, his eyes empty.
"Just destroy it all." Snape whispered softly. "Hurry up. I'm tired."
Just then, Dobby's holographic projection suddenly squeezed through a crack in the ruins.
He was holding a selfie stick, broadcasting a worldwide exclusive.
> [Fam! Homies! Live from the Hogwarts Underground Ruins! Stream Title: The Underground Love Affair of the Dark Lord & Old Demon King · Professor Snape's Passion of the Christ!]
The viewer count instantly broke 100 million.
[User_Grindelwald_Fan]: OMG! Lord Gellert riding Snape! What is this position? I ship it!
[User_SnapeWife]: Get off that Professor! Let me crush him! I mean, let me save him!
[User_MuggleKing]: That tattoo can curse people? Send me the link! I want to tattoo one on my boss!
Ivan looked at Dobby and suddenly saw a business opportunity.
Enduring the toxic insults from the tattoo on his back, he held up the sole remaining bottle of hair tonic to the camera.
"Everyone! Do you see this? This is Snape's Special Reserve · Ruins Survival Edition! Just a dab not only grows hair but glows in the dark! Order now and get a free bottle of 'Skrewt Saliva'! First 100 orders get a 'Snape Autographed Toxic Roast Card'!"
> [System Alert: Sales instantly exceeded 50 million Galleons!]
The tattoo on his back seemed to sense the surge in sales, and the insults paused.
Then, it spoke in a much kinder tone:
"Not bad, Potter. It seems your stupidity finally has some commercial value. Since you made so much, remember my cut. And throw that crybaby Voldemort further away; his snot is getting on my bottle."
Voldemort, who was hugging Ivan's leg and wiping his nose, froze.
He looked up at the glowing tattoo on Ivan's back, then at the Skrewt enjoying a spa treatment nearby.
An unprecedented sense of crisis washed over him.
In this household, did he rank lower than the pet?
"Quirrell..." Voldemort whispered.
"Master?"
"Go snatch that hair tonic for me. I want a SPA too. Also, ask the Skrewt if it needs a godson."
Quirrell: ???
Master, where is your bottom line?
Meanwhile.
Snape listened to Ivan's sales pitch and felt the vibration of the tattoo on his back (figuratively, as he watched Ivan). He suddenly felt this might be a new path to riches.
"Potter," Snape said eerily in the darkness, "since the tattoo can curse people, can we customize a 'Debt Collection Mode'? Like yelling 'Pay up' at the Malfoy family vault?"
Ivan's eyes lit up. "Professor, you are a business genius! We can launch 'Snape's Proxy Debt-Scolding Service'! Charge by the minute!"
Grindelwald couldn't take it anymore. "You Slytherin misers! We are buried alive and you're talking about money! Dig the hole! I'm hungry! I want Rock Cakes!"
"Shut up, Gellert!" Snape and Dumbledore roared in unison.
Just then.
Noises of footsteps and digging came from the top of the ruins.
"Headmaster! Professor! Are you down there?" It was Ron's voice. "Hagrid said he heard strange noises below, like... like a pigsty exploded?"
"We're here!!" Ivan shouted. "Get us out! Voldemort is trying to become the Skrewt's son!!"
"I AM NOT!!" Voldemort screamed, trying to cover Ivan's mouth, but got shocked by the tattoo on Ivan's back (Snape had added an anti-touch hex).
"AH! Snape! We are sworn enemies!!"
Beneath the ruins, the air was filled with joy.