Disclaimer: Does the name Jenny-Beth look at all like the letters JKR to you? I didn't think so.
Author's Note: Well, here it is, chapter four. Trelawney shows up and makes her typical statements. I would like to point out that she drew the upside down tower card during book 6, in which Dumbledore dies. Look it up and then look up the right side up tower. You will see the significant, if minute, differences.
This chapter is actually a little bit longer than usual to fit everything in. Now will you forgive me for the stupidly long time it took me to update?
Power The Dark Lord Knows Not
Chapter Four
Two months passed before Severus was summoned to the Dark Lord's side. It was two months that he had spent working with an increasingly quiet Tara. Two months of wondering why he was not being called to the side of his supposed master.
When the summons finally he came, he put a stasis on the potion he was working on and was out of the school in record time. It would not do to keep the Dark Lord waiting. He turned quickly on the spot and he was gone.
All of the Death Eaters seemed to be crowded into the grand hallway of the old manor that Voldemort was using as his headquarters. The old fortress was made for defence, not hosting revels and large parties. Finally, after waiting for twenty long minutes, the doors to a massive room on Severus' left opened and the crowd began to enter. When everyone was in, the doors closed. When they opened again, Lord Voldemort was there. Behind him was Lucius Malfoy, holding onto the chains that practically dripped off of a young blonde woman.
She was petite with scraggly hair that seemed as if it had not been washed or brushed in months. Her tiny figure was unbearably thin, as if she had not eaten a good meal in months, and her eyes were cast towards the floor. Everything that one noticed when they first glanced at her implied that this was just another prisoner.
However, on closer inspection, Severus noticed a few things that did not add up to a terrified or submissive prisoner. Her back was straight, rather than hunched over in defeat, and her steps were measured and sure.
The most noticeable thing about her, however, was her eyes. They were a bright green that was not dulled by defeat or terror. Rather, they were hard, cool, and calculating. She looked like someone who had taken a carefully calculated step in a long plan and had landed on her feet.
Needless to say, she was not some common Muggle girl. In fact, she looked like the Macnair girl.
"Lucius," the Dark Lord hissed. "What have you brought before me?"
"Miranda Macnair, my lord. She was on the run from her father and the Dark Mark, but we have caught her and brought her before you for torture or the Mark."
"Do not presume that you have the right to tell me what to do with prisoners, Lucius," Voldemort hissed snarled. His red eyes gleamed as he took in the appearance of the girl. He seemed to notice all that Severus had, for he stepped towards her and asked, "You're no ordinary prisoner, are you?"
The young woman looked determinedly at his feet and said nothing. She did not make eye contact, nor did she bow. She simply was.
"Severus," the Dark Lord hissed, not once looking up from the girl. "Take this one and make her fit to be in my presence." He chose that moment to look into the obsidian eyes of the Potions Master. "If you fail me in this, you will regret it greatly."
Severus made no response except to nod. The Dark Lord dismissed him with a wave and he grabbed the young woman by the wrist on his way past her towards the door.
Miranda Macnair was a name that Severus suspected would stay with him for the rest of his life. While her attitude displayed great courage, she seemed to feel no need to speak to him or anyone else. As a result, Severus suspected that his remaining time to recall her was short. The Dark Lord had no need for someone who could not report to him verbally at a meeting.
He was pacing in his office at the school and thinking all of this over when there was a knock on the door. "Come in," he invited gruffly, trying to cast aside all thoughts of the Macnair girl.
Tara walked in quietly. He had noticed that she was more subdued lately and he wondered what had caused it. It did not escape his notice that the two month waiting period was up and he had heard nothing about her going to spy on the Death Eaters. He hoped that either she had given up on the notion, or Dumbledore had refused.
"Good morning, sir. Are you alright?" she asked as soon as she saw his face, cast with the shadows of too much stress.
"I will be fine, Miss MacDonald. I had a late night meeting with a charming young lady and now I am rather exhausted."
Tara lifted an eyebrow but he did not expand on his comment. Let her think the worst. He was not going to tell her the intimate details of his job as a spy. "Whatever you say, sir. There is a rather terrified student here looking for some extra help. Shall I do it?"
Severus had never been as grateful for an assistant as he was at that moment. He was not able to deal with dunderheaded students at the moment. "Go right ahead," he replied dismissively.
As she walked out the door again, he drew some of his marking towards him. He had a few hours left until classes began and he would do well not to think of either Miss Macnair or Miss MacDonald.
Not five minutes later he pushed the marking aside. All he could think of was the comparison between the two women. While Tara was outgoing and would not close her mouth for more than thirty seconds at a time (which was why he believed she would make a terrible spy), Miranda Macnair could not be made to speak, and it may well cost him his life. The Dark Lord had sent notice that he had a week to make the girl into a whole new woman. She was to take the Mark or be killed. If she was to be killed, he was, as well.
Death, in and of itself, was not all that frightening to Severus, who had wished many times that he were dead simply so that everything would be greatly simplified. It was the prospect of what would become of Miss Macnair and who the Order would use to replace him as a spy.
That brought him in a full circle. He was thinking about Tara and Miranda again.
Tara groaned as she walked through the classroom and out to the door to greet the student who needed help. She suspected that the first year boy must have been in pretty dire straits if he was coming to Snape for help.
She opened the door and looked down at him with a small, tired smile. She had not gotten much sleep, either, and was paying for it this morning. She dragged herself out of the doorway and gestured for the student to come in.
While he explained what it was that he needed help with, Tara's mind wandered. She needed to speak with Harry again. She had talked with Dumbledore and had found out that a young woman by the name of Miranda Macnair needed some help. Before that meeting, she had never even heard of the woman.
She emitted a sigh as she noticed that the boy was no longer speaking and was looking at her as if she was supposed to say something. She looked at where his finger was resting in the textbook in front of him and very nearly taught him the complete lesson all over again. Merlin, she hated early morning study sessions. She had not had coffee yet, and was not feeling able to deal with the world at the moment.
When the boy finally left, it was time for breakfast. She knocked at Snape's door again. When he admitted her entrance she poked her head in and told him that she had finished with the boy, and that she was now going down to breakfast. He merely nodded absently in response. She took that as her cue to leave.
By the time she made it to the High Table for breakfast, there was no coffee left. She let her head fall to the table with a dull thump. Minerva, who was sitting on her left, patted her back. "Tea?" she asked calmly.
"How can you be so calm about the lack of highly caffeinated beverage?" Tara demanded, her voice muffled by her face full of table.
"It's an art," the older woman replied with a chuckle as she poured her co-worker a cup of steaming hot tea.
Tara looked up in disgust. "You just chuckled. How can you chuckle at this time of morning?"
Minerva smiled. "Are you always this much of a morning person?"
The younger girl scowled and chugged back her cup of tea. It scalded her mouth and throat, but it gave her a nice jolt of wakefulness, as well.
No sooner was the tea gone when Sybil Trelawney, who was sitting on her right, took the teacup right out of her hand. She turned it a few times before stopping and taking a long, hard look at the cup. She tisked. "A flag. You are in grave danger, my dear."
Tara made no effort to hide her snort. Just as Minerva was about to make a scathing comment to the other woman, she spoke up. "You don't say. I'm so glad the tea leaves tell you what I already know."
Trelawney scowled before pulling out a deck of cards. She shuffled it several times while Tara ate her breakfast, pointedly ignoring the other woman. As she was about to get up, Trelawney drew the card off the top of the deck and said dramatically, "The upright tower; the overthrow of an existing way of life. Beware of dramatic upheaval and widespread repercussions of your actions. Rest assured. It will work in the end."
Tara snorted again. "Well that's comforting. I am glad that you have managed to gain something that makes sense according to what is already happening in a teacup and a deck of cards. Good day."
She walked out of the Great Hall with a great deal of composure. Of course she was in danger. Death Eaters were after her, for Merlin's sake! Naturally that would change her life. What rubbish.
There was a fierce glare on her face when she arrived in the Potions classroom to set up for class. Surprisingly, Snape was in the room already and had already begun to prepare some of the more complex ingredients that would be needed for the day. He looked up as she came and asked wryly, "Bad day?"
"It's only just begun," she sighed as she sank into a chair behind a desk. "Is Trelawney always a batty old fool?" Snape merely nodded without looking up from the ground erumpent horn he was currently measuring out so she continued. "How did she even get the job? She's clearly not quite with the program."
He carefully set his work down and then turned to look at her. "Indeed. She does manage to make the rare useful prophecy. I believe she has made at least two about or to Potter that have come true."
Tara just arched an eyebrow and pulled herself to her feet. "I want to sleep for a month," she muttered quietly as she shuffled towards her quarters. It was not shaping up to be a good day.
It was the last class of the day and Tara was ready to rip someone's throat out with her bare hands. A first year Hufflepuff had managed to create some sort of acid rather than her potion and had burned herself quite badly and Slytherin fifth year had managed to stab himself with his knife while chopping up one of the ingredients for his very basic potion.
Now she and Snape were looking out at a class of seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins. Tara was either going to hit someone or cry and Snape looked like he might kill himself. It had already been a bad day and it simply could not get better now.
Malfoy and Harry were glaring each other down, Ron and Zabini were clenching and unclenching their fists, and Hermione looked as if she might take out her copy of Hogwarts: A History and use it to beat Crabbe and Goyle.
Oh yes. This was going to be bad.
"You will turn to page five hundred and ninety six," Snape said coldly. "And if any of you so much as look at one another for the rest of the class, I will have you in detention for a week. Now read chapter eighteen. Yes, Miss Granger?"
Hermione's hand had shot up in the air and she seemed about ready to fall out of her chair. "Professor, I've already read chapter eighteen."
Snape sneered. "I imagine that you have read the entire book."
"Yes, sir," Hermione said with a nod.
He scowled dangerously. "You will write me an essay on the properties of the Polyjuice potion. You should be an expert on that, so you will not need to use your books."
Hermione paled at the look he was giving her and the reference to the Polyjuice potion that she had made in her second year. "Yes, sir," she said as she reached for a parchment and her quill.
Tara had been watching the exchange with no intention of interrupting. As much as she liked Hermione, today was just too difficult to suffer through another scalding lecture from Snape, who was just as frustrated as she over the day's events.
Severus Apparated back to the Dark Lord's fortress that night to work with the Macnair girl. He had to get her into shape or they were both dead. Being a Death Eater was not all that difficult as long as you kept your head down and avoided notice. She would be noticed immediately if she would not speak. She would be considered insolent for refusing to report to the Dark Lord.
They were dead.
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before he composed himself and strode purposefully into the dungeons where she was being kept.
Her cell was dark and stale. Severus felt like he could not breathe, as the air was so close and heavy. Miranda's green eyes met his through the darkness. He met them easily and waited- hoped- for some sort of greeting. She nodded to him but remained silent. He bit back a sigh and ordered her to get up.
The two of them walked silently through the corridors of the prison and were soon in a room with nothing in it. The walls were off-white and the floors were grey. There was no window. A single candle hovered in the air, spluttering from a wick that had not been trimmed.
Miranda walked quietly into the room and remained standing as she stared at Severus. He met her gaze.
"Is there something on my face?" he asked sarcastically. She quickly looked away and shook her head. He almost wished that Tara was there. She never stopped jabbering, but at least she wasn't nervous and silent.
He attempted to talk to her about many different topics over the course of the night, but nothing seemed to work. She would not speak. It had, at some point earlier on, occurred to him to perform a diagnostic spell to test whether or not she could speak. The results stated that there was nothing medically wrong with her. He had audibly growled before moving on to yet another mindless subject.
Finally, at about four in the morning, Severus' patience snapped. "Do you not realize what it means if you do not talk? You and I will both die! Is that what you want?"
Miranda shook her head and studied the floor in front of her. Tears slipped down her face as she sat in silence for the rest of the night.
Tara was staring blankly up at the ceiling above her bed. 'So tired,' she thought unhappily.
There was a sudden banging on her door. She groaned and pulled herself out of the bed. The banging suddenly increased in volume and her door was shaking on its hinges. "Merlin! I'm coming!" she yelled in frustration.
On the other side of her door was an irate Snape. "What were you doing in there?" he seethed. "I need my assistant, and she's doing Merlin knows what!"
"I might be more inclined to help you, Professor, if you hadn't nearly taken my door off the hinges!" She growled back.
"Tara MacDonald! Respect your superiors!" the portrait of her father said furiously.
Her eyes narrowed and she turned to look at her father. "You stay out of this. You're dead!" She took a deep breath and turned back to Snape. "What can I do for you, Professor?" she asked with exaggerated politeness.
"You wanted to spy. I need a favour." He clearly was not happy that he had to ask for help.
Tara sighed. "What do you need?"
"The Dark Lord has me working with a young woman. He wants her to take the Mark if I can get her in shape to do so. She won't even talk. She will be killed if she does not seem acceptable to the Dark Lord."
She did not even blink. "Where do I come in?"
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose again. "She won't talk, but you have a way of making people do it whether they want to or not. I want you to meet her."
"And how do you propose I do that?"
"Polyjuice. Bellatrix will be out of the fortress for a few days and I have some of her hair."
"I am not going to ask," Tara said drily. "Alright, I'll come. When do we leave?"
"Now," was his abrupt response.
"It's Saturday morning and I had no sleep!" Tara whined.
Snape stared at her. "How is it my fault that you were up partying all night with friends?"
She didn't even bother to correct him. "I'll get my cloak."
The fortress was much larger than Tara had anticipated. It was a massive building with an exterior comprised entirely of stone. It was bleak and colourless. She gaped at it and then turned to Snape.
"Do people actually live in this building?"
Snape nodded. "A select few do. Those with nowhere else to go or are entirely too dedicated stay here." He coughed and it sounded suspiciously like 'Bella'. Quickly, he withdrew a muddy brown liquid contained in vial from his pocket. Once the top was removed, he added a few long black hairs.
As soon as the hair came in contact with the Polyjuice, it turned a nasty dark purple colour. It was so dark that it was nearly black and it was hissing in a manner that Tara found entirely disconcerting. "You want me to drink that?"
Snape answered by shoving the vial roughly into her hand. She took it and looked at him in consternation for a moment before she plugged her nose and chugged the nasty potion back in one overlarge gulp. She promptly began to choke.
"That's what you get for drinking it so quickly," Snape remarked unsympathetically.
Tara got a hold of herself and scowled at him. "That's not what happened. I choked on one of the hairs. Have you ever tried to drink a potion with long hairs in it before?"
Snape scowled back and took off at a fast walk. "That's what I thought," she muttered under her breath before she took off after him.
They had no sooner entered the fortress when they encountered their first problem. Tara had never met Bellatrix Lestrange, so she had no idea how to impersonate her. Exactly on the other side of the door was Rodolphus, her husband.
"Bella."
Tara had, unfortunately, had the misfortune of meeting Rudolphus before. One was not a pureblood with an old name without knowing at least most of the other purebloods. She was able to call him by name. "Rodolphus," she replied with a small, impersonal smile.
He looked at her in confusion and looked as if he might say something so Snape jumped in. "Rodolphus," he greeted with a typically blank face and a nod. "Please excuse us, but we need to see one of the prisoners."
Rodolphus grinned. It was not a pretty sight. He had yellowed teeth and an oddly twisted face. "Off to see the Macnair girl? She wouldn't be half bad if she was cleaned up a bit. Having a little fun with her?"
Snape bit back a sigh. The man was so inferior to… everyone! "No, Rudolphus. I am trying to make her worthy of the Mark. Please excuse us," he said in the tone of voice he usually reserved for Potter and Longbottom.
Tara followed him through many halls and cavernous rooms. Fortunately, the only people they saw were not interested in talking. They all simply nodded in greeting. She and Snape returned the favour.
When they finally reached the dungeons, Tara was remarkably lost. They had been walking for the better part of a half hour and they were just reaching their destination. What an absurdly large fortress!
The blonde girl huddled in the cell that Snape indicated immediately had Tara's concentration. Indeed, he was surprised by the intensity that she put into her stare at the girl. She did not even blink for a long time. When she did blink, she had looked away at Snape. He was disconcerted to see a calm expression on Bella's face.
"What did you want me to do, exactly?" she asked curiously.
He scowled at Miranda, who was still crouching miserably in her cell. "Just get her to talk! I can work with her once she talks."
Tara nodded and turned back to the woman in the cell. Hours spent in the cell did not produce any noticeable results. Tara had just consumed the last of his Polyjuice and now they had to get out of there before their hour was up. It would not do for her to be recognized in the fortress.
The two of them departed in a foul mood. No apparent changes had presented themselves and both were exhausted. Snape was sure that he was going to die.
The week was up and Snape went to the Dark Lord. He was so sure that he was going to die that he was going to die that night that he had left his final will and testament with Albus. The old man had looked at him sadly before dismissing him. Apparently the Headmaster thought he would die, as well.
He once again arrived in the crowded main hallway and waited for the doors to the meeting chamber to open and allow entrance. It had been decided (by the Dark Lord, of course) that Lucius would lead the girl in again.
He took a deep, steadying breath as the doors opened. He was one of the last people to enter the room, as he was in absolutely no hurry to die. The doors closed behind him. The bang they made as they closed seemed abnormally loud and final to poor Severus.
When the doors opened again, Severus was careful to bow no more or less deeply than usual. His heart was in it much less than usual, but he supposed that was to be expected. He watched the hem of the Dark Lord's black robes pass him by. He looked up to watch Lucius lead Miranda down the aisle the Death Eaters had formed. He was surprised to see that she looked even less defeated than she had the last time she had faced the Dark Lord. Was the girl not afraid to die?
When she and Lucius reached the head of the aisle, they bowed before Voldemort, who had remained standing. "You may rise," the serpentine man hissed softly. Although his voice was quiet, it carried in the blaring silence that filled the hall. None dared speak and incur the wrath of their Lord.
As the assembly rose to their feet, the Dark Lord sat in the throne-like chair behind him. His red eyes flitted across the room, taking in the number of followers that had responded to his summons. If he took special notice of Severus, no one was aware of it.
"Lucius, make her look at me."
The tall blonde man forcefully pulled Miranda's chin up. There was something different about her this time.
It took Severus a moment to figure out what it was. When he realized what it was, he nearly toppled over.
She was speaking.
In a very soft undertone, she was threatening to tear Lucius apart, limb by limb, until there was nothing left. While her voice was too quiet to be heard by anyone other than the man who had pulled her along and the Dark Lord, she was speaking!
The Dark Lord noticed and smirked. "Spunky," was his only comment.
Miranda's gaze never faltered from his. Where last time she had seen him, she had been silent and refused to meet his gaze; she now met his gaze and spoke smoothly in a voice that carried easily to Severus' relieved ears.
"Milord." She inclined her head slightly towards him but never broke eye contact and did not dip into a full bow.
One pale eyebrow lifted as he studied her. If she noticed the intrusion in her mind as he performed Legilimency, she did not let on and continued to meet his gaze. Her only movement was to bring her chin up marginally.
Severus held his breath as he waited for the verdict. Was she to die or take the Mark?
The Dark Lord finally spoke to her. "Will you willingly take the Mark?"
"Do I have a choice?" she asked with a great deal of cheek.
Voldemort studied her for a long moment while Severus waited to be called upon for his killing curse. "Not particularly. You would do well not to give me cheek, girl."
Miranda smirked calmly and the serpentine man studied her. She was not even remotely intimidated by him and yet she had been on the run. It did not add up in the least.
"Give me your arm," he finally hissed at her as he rose from his chair.
With a cocky grin, Miranda offered her left arm and held it out. Voldemort stood in a silent study of her for several moments as she confidently met his gaze. Severus held his breath, hoping that she would take the Mark and that he would not be punished too harshly for her sass.
Finally, Voldemort held her wrist in his hand and flourished his wand over her arm. He spoke the incantation and the girl barely flinched. Severus was impressed. Taking the Mark had been the most painful experience of his life and was not something he would want to repeat. He noted some approving sounds from the Death Eaters at her lack of reaction to such a painful spell.
When the spell was complete, Voldemort drew back and called to his Death Eaters, "You have a new member in your ranks. I trust that you will treat her well." He met her gaze once more and added, "Especially after her remarkable silence during the spell."
Miranda smirked again and looked unerringly into his red eyes. The other Death Eaters found that they were in awe of this young woman. She was rather remarkable.
"How did she do?" Tara asked Snape eagerly the next morning. "Did she talk?"
He looked up at his assistant and said calmly, "She performed admirably."
Tara frowned in mingled confusion and irritation. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Snape said slowly, as if speaking to a child, "that neither she nor I are dead and she has a charming new tattoo."
"Charming," was Tara's dry response. "You have such a wonderful sense of humour, Professor," she added with an impish grin.
Unlike just the day before when he was finding all the differences between her and Miranda, he now found himself looking at the similarities. One would definitely be the cheek to superiors.
"One day you're going to get in trouble with that cheek, Miss MacDonald."
"Most likely," she agreed cheerfully. "I think it's worth the risk."
The two of them smirked and walked companionably to breakfast.
Albus was sitting behind his desk, contemplating life as a whole when Severus walked in.
"I am impressed, Headmaster. No lemon drops?" he asked drily.
The older man smiled cheerfully. "I was simply waiting for guests. Would you like one?" he asked as he extended the dish of sweets to the spy.
Severus looked disgusted at the offer, as was his custom. "Albus, how many times must I tell you that I do not care for sweets?"
"Always once more, Severus," was all the reply he received as the Headmaster placed one of his favourite sweets in his mouth. His face immediately puckered up. "What brings you to my office this fine day?"
"Miranda Macnair took the Mark last night."
Albus met his gaze easily. "I had assumed so, as I am not searching for another Potions Master."
Severus smiled wryly. "Thank you for that vote of confidence, Headmaster."
"Oh, come now. You know that I have a great deal of faith in you."
Severus arched an eyebrow. "I do?"
Albus grinned at him. "Of course you do."
At that moment there was a sharp knock on the office door. "Come in," Albus called.
Tara strolled in and paused at the sight of Snape in one of the chairs. "My apologies. I'm interrupting. I will come back at a more convenient time."
"Nonsense. There is not better time. Severus, could you excuse us?"
The Potions Master blinked rapidly in surprise before he composed himself. "Of course, Headmaster."
As he walked down the stairs, and away from the office, he wondered once again about Tara's desire to spy. Were they planning to work her into the Dark Lord's ranks somehow? He swallowed his instinctive groan. This simply could not be happening. The girl would not last a day and would fool no one.