Warnings: Mentions of suicide in this chapter
Chapter IV
In routine, Chloe awoke the next morning at the crack of dawn. Still half asleep, she mumbled a "Good morning, sir" at Gideon's sleeping form which was still sprawled out across the table. When Chloe didn't receive an answer, she turned around and tipped her head to the side at him.
"Master?" she called, but Gideon did not stir. One step at a time, Chloe crept forward slowly. As she neared him, she looked for any signs of life but Gideon did not stir and his chest didn't visibly expand as he breathed; if he breathed. Chloe reached a trembling hand out towards his shoulder and gently shook it.
"Master, Sir?" Her voice quavered.
Gideon's eyes flew open at Chloe's touch. The abruptness of his motion startled her and she stumbled backwards, falling onto the floor.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Gideon shouted. At his fury, Chloe backed up further until her back was pressed against the kitchen cabinets.
"I-I'm so sorry, master," Chloe stuttered. "I was just making sure that you were alright, sir."
Gideon picked up his head and surveyed the kitchen. It was a mess; broken glass littered the floor which was sticky with dried fire whiskey.
"Clean this mess up," he ordered.
Scrambling to her feet, Chloe went to grab a rag. "Of course sir," she said. As she began removing the broken glass from the floor, Gideon stood up from his seat. He tottered and lurched forward, grasping the counter to regain his balance.
A light touch brushed against Gideon's arm.
"Please, sir, let me help you lie down," Chloe suggested. Gideon tried to swallow hard but was overwhelmed by shuddering. Chloe steadied Gideon by his elbow as he doubled over and hurled onto the floor.
"I'm fine. I don't need your help walking," Gideon growled, wiping off his mouth with his sleeve. Shaking free of Chloe's grasp, he staggered out of the room. "Clean up the mess," he repeated.
A few minutes later, Chloe attended to the mess. With one hand, she held a rag in place over her nose and mouth while using the other hand to scrub. Despite her attempt to keep the stench at bay, Chloe could not keep her stomach from turning over as well. She was thankful when she moved on to the broken glass and whiskey.
When Chloe had finished and the kitchen was as clean as it had always been, she began to make Gideon breakfast. While rummaging through the cabinets, she spotted a cabinet full of tonics. She took out the one labeled 'headache tonic' and added it to her tray. Headaches were the most common symptom after drinking too much and were probably the reason why Gideon was more irritated than usual.
Carrying the tray out of the kitchen, Chloe walked up to the closed door of his room.
"Good," Chloe though, relieved. She didn't want to find her master passed out on the stairs.
She knocked lightly on the door. "Sir?"
"Not now," he snapped and then groaned. "Don't ever let me get this drunk again."
Chloe signed and then walked in and set down the tray.
"What part of 'not now' do you not understand, you insolent little bitch!" Gideon roared.
"I brought you some headache tonic to make you feel better. My apologies. If you'll excuse me master…" Chloe said quietly. She bowed and left the room.
Gideon clutched the pillow he was about to throw at Chloe and squeezed it until it was flat. With all the force he could muster, he flung it to the end of his bed. His headache pounded against his temples, giving him no choice but to get out of bed and take the tonic. As he stood up, the room seemed to swim before him. Gideon lurched forward to grab the bottle, but his hand missed and instead smacked the table. On his second try, he grabbed the bottle successively, but he sensed the lighting in the room growing darker though he knew that the sun outside still shone brightly. He collapsed onto the bed and took a swig of the tonic. Then he rolled over and promptly fell asleep.
Out in the gardens, Chloe worked silently with her trowel. She did not sing or smile in the least. She did not cover worms that she found back up with dirt like she used to. She did not stop for even a quick meal. Her friends couldn't eat anymore, so why should she.
Chloe turned the trowel over in her hands and brushed off the dirt. The sunlight gleamed onto its sharp metal corners. She had used it to chop through roots in that garden that were almost an inch thick. If she could penetrate that, she could easily cut through anything, even her own chest. Her tears started to flow freely and her hands shook as she placed the point to her heart. She drew it back and took one last shuddering breath. No one cared for her anymore. Her friends were dead. Her family was dead. And she was left to serve the man who had taken them all away from her. The only company Chloe had was that of a murderer.
With the force of all her hatred, Chloe brought the tool in towards her and braced for impact, but it never came. She opened one eye, wondering if she was already dead. The trowel had come within an inch of her chest but was stopped in midair. She pressed even harder, but the point did not get any closer to her. A shield charm must have been placed around me, Chloe deduced. She sank the little shovel into the garden's dirt. It just wasn't fair. She couldn't bring herself to live any longer, but even a quick suicide was a luxury that she was denied.
Back inside the mansion, Gideon was growing restless. His headache was gone, thanks to the tonic, but every time that he tried to stand up, he would begin to black out and would feel too light-headed and dizzy.
"Chloe," he yelled, but received no answer. "Chloe!" Gideon fumbled for his wand on his bedside table. "Sonorus," he whispered and touched his wand to the side of his neck.
"Chloe!" His voice sounded through the manor, rattling windows and out into the garden where Chloe was staring into space with tears flowing freely down her cheeks. She was jerked out of her miserable thoughts and quickly stood up. Gideon's voice had sounded urgent, so she raced through the mansion and up the stairs to his bedroom. As she ran, she wiped away her tears. She needed to be presentable for her master.
Out of breath and slightly red in the face, Chloe burst into the room.
"Yes, Master?" she asked, bowing.
"I'm bored," Gideon stated. "Entertain me."
Chloe looked down at her hands. "How, Sir?"
"I don't know," he said while waving his hand as if he was giving a gentle back-handed slap.
Out of the corner of Chloe's eye, she saw a book lying on an end table next to one of the room's comfy chairs. She walked over to it and picked it up.
"Perhaps you would like me to read to you, sir?" Chloe spun the book around so that Gideon could get a good look at the title. The book was The Tales of Beedle the Bard and even though she was shocked to find a nursery book in the room of a grown Death Eater, she did not question it.
Gideon nodded. "Pull up a chair." Chloe did so and sat next to his side of the bed. At first, Chloe's voice was fragile from all of the crying that she had done earlier and she stumbled over her words. As the minutes passed, her voice got steadier, but was still completely devoid of emotion.
"'There once was a kindly old wizard who used his magic generously and wisely for the benefit of his neighbors. Rather than reveal the true source of his power, he pretended that his potions, charms, and antidotes sprang ready-made from the little cauldron he called his lucky cooking pot'…"*
Chloe was only halfway through the first tale when Gideon covered his mouth with his hands and staggered to the bathroom where he was sick yet again. With his entire body shaking out of exertion, he collapsed to the floor and rested his head against the toilet bowl.
Chloe hung back, uncertain of what she should do.
"Are you alright, sir?" she asked while craning her head to check on him.
"I'm fine," he moaned. "You can go get some extra rest. You're dismissed until further notification."
Chloe stood up from her chair and set the book down on it. "Rest well sir," she said and then went down into her room in the basement to rest. As she lied on her back, staring up at the plain ceiling, she could feel her stomach complaining as the lack of food that day caused a sharp pain.
*excerpt quoted from J.K. Rowling's The Tales of Beedle the Bard
