Harry Potter and the Elder Race
Chapter Two
In a lonely thicket of trees lit by a sliver of moonlight, a dark hooded figure suddenly appeared. The man lowered his hood, and stood for a time in a sea of jasmine and wild flowers under his feet. With the summer in full bloom and with the dawn approaching, the jasmine buds had started to open and the air was redolent with its fragrance. Severus Snape had kept the plant growing and flourishing for more than twenty years now, for that was what Lily's hair always smelled like.
This was where he'd been happiest, and he invariably returned here to try and recapture the time when he and Lily were still young, when they had made this private place their own, where they could be themselves freely, before Hogwarts, before she met that arrogant man….
He needed to come here, to remind himself of the promise he had made to Dumbledore, his vow to Lily, to protect her son's life – no matter how much he believed the Potter boy was dead. But Dumbledore insisted that Lily's son was still alive. But how could that be? And yet… and yet… Dumbledore was so certain, though he detected a certain misgiving in the Headmaster.
"Lily," he whispered longingly into the night. Would she know? Could she feel? Time and again he had heard Dumbledore say he believed in the afterlife. Is it true?
He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the scent, the memory of her, trying to imagine she was still here, trying to remember what it was like, when it was just the two of them, when she still depended on him… when she was still his….
"For you… only," he said, his breathe entwining with the perfumed particles of her flowery scent in the air.
Snape then turned on his heel, allowing the void to engulf him, as he Apparated just outside the warded borders of Malfoy Manor.
There were a couple of Death Eaters – new recruits – standing guard at the Mansion's front door but Snape ignored them and walked straight up the front steps. The door swung inwards, the magic recognizing the Dark Mark on his left arm, and he stepped into the hallway. He found the massive foyer empty, but he knew where he would find the Dark Lord. He walked straight on ahead and through the large parlour room. Off to the left side was a door. He knocked once, and had to wait a few moments before it opened and Narcissa Malfoy's face appeared. He immediately plastered a pleased look on his face, but knew it probably came off as a grimace. She graced him with a condescending smile back – a little stiffly, he thought. As far as everyone was concerned, his loyalties still lay heavily under suspicion.
"Severus," Narcissa said, inclining her head slightly. Behind her was a small anteroom to another, bigger room which served as the office of the mansion.
"Narcissa," Snape said, inflecting a tone of affection in his voice that he only used if it was just the two of them in the room. He knew she felt slightly guilty for this – of his "attentions". And he also knew that the Dark Lord had seen this in her mind, bolstering his own lie that he was in love with her, a lie that he took care to uphold for years now, knowing that the Dark Lord might someday return.
"The Dark Lord is still in a meeting with my husband," she said, with not a small hint of pride at this proof of the special position her husband held in the Dark Lord's inner circle. "If you can just wait a few minutes more."
Snape nodded. He sat waiting while Narcissa called in Wormtail to serve them. Secretly, he smiled at this inconvenience to them. One of the few things that he begrudgingly approved the Potter boy had accomplished. No house-elf was willing to serve in the Malfoy Mansion now, and he doubted any house-elf ever will. He knew Wormtail resented this, being made a veritable servant in Malfoy's house, but he did eat at the Malfoy's table, and the Malfoys made sure that Wormtail did not so much as sing for his supper as slaved for it.
Soon the door opened, and Lucius Malfoy emerged, wearing a smug, determined look on his face. Snape did not need to know what it was all about. He, of all people, knew about Sybill Trelawney's prophecy. After all, it was he who told the Dark Lord about it – to his eternal regret.
He stood up and exchanged polite greetings with Lucius. The latter was well aware of his "feelings" for Narcissa, but Lucius, far from taking offense, took it rather as a compliment. In his mind, it was a natural given that most people desired what he had – his money, his pure-blood status, his position in society, his beautiful and unattainable wife, and now, with the Dark Lord poised to take over everything, absolute power.
Snape then entered the office, closing the door behind him. The Dark Lord sat behind the desk, but his face was turned to the window outside, looking out into the massive gardens of the mansion. Snape walked right up to the front of the desk, said "My Lord," and patiently waited for the Dark Lord to give him his attention.
Voldemort continued for a time to look out the window, deep in thought. Finally, he turned to face the Potions Master. "What news, Severus?"
"My Lord, Dumbledore has reformed the Order of the Phoenix."
"And?"
"And he has asked me to join, My Lord." Snape looked up, directly into the Dark Lord's eye. "But I cannot do so without your permission."
Voldemort softly laughed. "But you must join this Order, Severus. How else are we going to learn more about that Muggle-loving fool's movement?" Voldemort considered Severus closely. "And I expect, he wants you to give information about me as well?"
Snape nodded.
"Ah. Then we will have to throw the old fool a few morsels, fit for a dog. Won't we, Severus?"
"As you wish, my Lord."
"And the boy? Any news of him?"
"None, my Lord. It was primarily the reason why he reformed the Order, my Lord: To help look for the boy. Dumbledore seems to believe that the boy is still alive."
"But you do not," Voldemort stated, eyeing him shrewdly.
"No, my Lord," Snape for once answered the Dark Lord truthfully. "From what I've heard, I don't see how it could be," said Snape, not hiding the fact that he had heard of what happened the night of the Dark Lord's rebirthing from sources other than Voldemort. It would show the Dark Lord he was not afraid of speaking the truth, even that which might incur the master's wrath. "If the boy is still alive then he would have contacted Dumbledore by now. No, my Lord, it's difficult to think so."
"Then let us be thankful that I do not rely on you to make my decisions, Severus." Voldemort's slit eyes glittered, his high-pitched voice becoming vexed. "If Dumbledore believes that the boy is still alive, then we should continue keeping an eye out for the boy, as well."
"Yes, my Lord."
"Leave. Tell the others to continue looking for the boy. Then find Avery and tell him I wish to speak with him."
~o~
Ginny longed to fly, but with her brothers around, she couldn't. So she climbed the old tree house by the back of the Burrow instead. She hadn't done so for years. Mum always said it was unladylike. But not being able to fly drove her to climb up the tree once again. She climbed all the way up, over the roof of the treehouse, then sat in one of the sturdier branches and looked out into the horizon. She drew a deep breath. Somewhere out there was Harry.
She hoped nobody in the house would notice her gone. Perhaps they won't: Mum was too worried. She'd been nervously banging around the kitchen, and that was partly the reason why Ginny wanted to be out. She couldn't stand her mum's obsessive eyeing of the family clock until Dad, Bill, and Percy arrived home. Although Dad and Percy were at work, Bill was, like the other Order members, out there searching for Harry. While Ron was upstairs with the twins, making get-away plans in case Hermione and her parents had to be removed from their house quickly. Dad had already told Ron that it was unlikely – Ginny heard them talking the previous night – that there was no danger yet, that Order members had already given Hermione's house some protection. Ron obviously was not satisfied. She wondered if Ron was aware of just how transparent he was being. But then again, she was one to talk.
So many things still remained up in the air. Everything depended on whether Harry was still alive or not. Even Death Eaters were looking for him, waiting for confirmation of his death. Ginny felt alone, separate from her family. All she had was this gripping panic trying to push its way out from deep within her gut. Harry,where are you? her heart called out into the bruising sky. But she had no right to show her fear, no right to scream. She had no right to Harry.
"Ginny! Where are you?" her mum called from the Burrow's kitchen door.
Ginny sighed and knew her time alone was over. She climbed down the tree easily, not making any effort to mask the sound or hide the movement. Her mum heard the slight sound she made and hurriedly approached the tree.
"Ginny! What are you doing up there? You'll be fourteen in a month! You're a young woman now! Ladies don't climb up trees!"
Ginny continued to climb down the tree, as agile as a cat. When she was only a couple of feet from the ground, she jumped and landed lightly on her feet. She stood straight up, brushing her hands against the back of her jeans.
"And what are you doing out here? You know it's dangerous to be outside these days."
"Mum, I'm inside the Burrow."
"That's no excuse. You never know who might be watching –"
Ginny talked over her mum's words. "Mum, did anything happen?"
Reminded thus of her original errand, Mrs. Weasley spoke. "There's a Michael who kept Flooing, looking for you, even after I told him that you're not taking any calls. It's been the third time but he insists he wants to talk to you. He's waiting on the Floo."
Ginny sighed. When they met at the Yule Ball, Michael had given her the kind of attention she'd been dreaming from Harry. It was a new sensation, being liked for a change, instead of her hopeless hankering for a boy who couldn't care that she existed. She was heartbroken too at Harry's interest in Cho Chang. So she thought she might give a relationship with Michael a try. But with Harry's disappearance, so too her interest in Michael disappeared in an instant. She was too worried about Harry.
"Mum, I don't want to talk to him."
"Then tell him yourself. It's not nice to keep a boy hanging if you're not interested."
"But I haven't! I already told him. But he wouldn't lay off."
"Perhaps you should tell him again. And this time make it clear, we need the fireplace for emergency Floos. You know we're waiting for word about – "
Harry. Ginny finished in her head. Mum seemed unable to say his name aloud these days.
Her mum turned away, hiding her face, as she often did whenever Harry's name was mentioned around her. "You go ahead, I'll just go and pick some vegetables for supper," her mum said. Ginny watched her mum's back as she walked towards the vegetable patch, her shoulders bowed. She had helped her mum pick vegetables yesterday; the Burrow's freeze box was full.
Ginny turned and slowly walked back up the house, dragging her feet. She headed straight towards the fireplace and knelt in front of it. The fire was still on and Michael's head flickered in the flame.
"Ginny!"
"Michael," Ginny's tone of voice was discouraging.
"I've been trying to Floo you three times now. Where were you?"
"Out."
"Out where?"
Ginny stared Michael down with a look that said, Do you have a right to ask?
"Well, it's just I've been trying to Floo you three times," Michael repeated needlessly.
Ginny was in no mood for small chit-chat. "Look Michael, do you have anything important to say?" she said impatiently.
"Well, I just wanted to know if perhaps we could meet in Diagon Alley on your birthday?"
"How can I? You've heard what Dumbledore said at the End-of-the-Year feast. My mum wouldn't let me out by myself in Diagon Alley."
"You can ask one of your brothers to accompany you and fetch you back when we're ready to go home."
"Michael, did you even ask me if I want to meet with you at Diagon Alley?" said Ginny, annoyed.
"Look, Ginny, what's wrong with hooking up?" Michael said, getting fired up himself. "We can buy our books at the same time, have some ice cream, that's all I want."
"I told you. Even if I wanted to, my mum wouldn't allow it."
"Just because of what Dumbeldore said?"
Ginny narrowed her eyes. "You don't believe him."
"Well, my dad works in the Ministry. He says the Ministry now believes that Harry killed Cedric. That's why Potter's missing – he's run away. Perhaps he didn't mean to. Perhaps it was an accident. But the Ministry's about to declare him a fugitive. And if you think about it, it's really no surprise that Potter could do such a thing. He did put his name in the Goblet of Fire, didn't he?"
"He didn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire!" cried Ginny hotly.
"Who's to say that? Who knows what really is true?"
"Harry did not put his name in the Goblet of Fire! He wouldn't do that! And he certainly did not kill Cedric!"
"You sound as if you still fancy him. Ginny, he's not even interested in you. Don't you think if he was going to be, he would be by now?"
Ginny stared at Michael's head in the fireplace. What an effing arsehole! How dared he speak to her that way! He had no right to! Despite herself, she started to pull out her wand. She was going to teach this git a lesson. Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery be damned!
"THAT'S ENOUGH!"
Ginny whipped her head around. Fred was standing behind her, his face as red as a Muggle telephone booth. She did not hear him come down from the stairs. She had seldom seen any of the twins this angry. The only way she could tell that they were was if they gave someone a calculating look, which basically meant painful, drawn-out retribution. They always said that anger is pointless; silent revenge is a lot more fun.
"You don't talk to our sister that way. And you never get to talk about Harry that way, either, understand?" said Fred in a low, flinty voice.
Despite the flame, Michael looked terrified. He wasn't prepared to deal with any of Ginny's brothers, even that stiff spod Percy who graduated from Hogwarts with top honors. And he certainly wasn't prepared to deal with her twin brothers. Who knew what they were capable of doing?
"If I ever hear you bothering Ginny again…" Fred threatened.
"I won't – " Michael squeaked.
Before Michael could say any more, Fred threw something into the Floo. The air was sucked out from inside the fireplace, depriving the Floo of oxygen. The fire died down in an instant with a sound of a plunger being drawn and, along with it, Michael's face, but Ginny thought she heard the faint sound of Michael coughing fit to die.
Ginny turned to her brother, beaming.
"George and I heard you and mum," said Fred with a smirk.
"Well, we were hardly trying to keep our voices low," Ginny said.
"We were actually watching you, up the treehouse. Bill said to keep an eye on you." His smile grew even wider, knowing Ginny hated that. But for once Ginny didn't mind. She usually fought her own battles, but there was something gratifying in watching one of her brothers stand up for her.
"Where's your better-looking twin?" said Ginny, though everyone knew the twins looked exactly alike.
"Upstairs. Babysitting Ron. I just sneaked down to see what you're up to." Suddenly, Fred turned serious. "Don't believe everything you hear about Harry, okay?"
"I don't," said Ginny, tilting her head up.
"Good." Fred turned and started to climb up the stairs when Ginny called out to him.
"Oh Freeed," Ginny sang, giving him a wide-eyed, innocent look.
"Yeah?" he asked suspiciously.
"I want whatever you threw at the Flooplace or Percy knows about it."
Fred's eyes narrowed. "Ingrate." Then he turned to climb back up the stairs, shaking his head, but not before Ginny caught the faint smile on his face.
~o~
