Violent Deception

Chapter Eight

"Wake the hell up, Teag!" I yelled. I was dressed and ready for double Defence Against The Dark Arts - groan - but my friend was still in bed. And it was five to nine. I had exactly five minutes to get the girl out bed, dressed and down to the East Wing before Snape tosses us into his Essence of Delirium or whatever the hell it is. "Get up!"

"Wha?" she asked groggily, rubbing at her eyes.

"Get the hell out of bed! We have to be in the East Wing in five fucking minutes!"

"Yeah, yeah," she yawned, stretching her arms out comically. "Just gotta have a quick shower..."

"Nuh uh," I said and came around to her side. I tugged her duvet off and dumped it on the floor. I grabbed her forearm and yanked her out of bed and then went straight to her cupboard. And it was messy. "Merlin, Tegs, how do you find anything in here?"

"It's organised mess," sniffed Teagan. She started towards the bathroom but I cut her off.

"No time for a shower. Take one during the lunch hour, okay? We're late for Snape."

"SNAPE!?" she shrieked. "Why didn't you bloody say so?"

I had never seen Teag move so fast in my life. I swear to Merlin I blinked and she was suddenly ready.

She grabbed my arm and hauled me out of the dormitory. Hey, what the hell? I'm supposed to be the forceful, obnoxious, dominant one!

We ran for the East Wing. Honestly, we tried our best, but it's physically impossible to get from Gryffindor Tower to the East Wing in three and a half minutes. Seriously, it would normally take a good fifteen minutes at the least.

As it was, we were only ten minutes late. And, no, Snape wasn't happy, Jan.

"Miss Faithe, Miss Bell," he sneered as we hurried into the Defence classroom, panting and gasping for air. "I believe you are fifteen minutes late to my class. An explanation, if you will?"

"Sorry, sir," I gasped. "Slept in."

"Both of you?"

"Uh huh." I nodded.

"Take your seats. Twenty points from Gryffindor and you will both see me after class to discuss Detention."

Fuck.

I looked around the room. It was crowded. Teag dashed forward to take the only seat left on the Gryffindor side of the room. Bitch. I couldn't blame her though - I would have done the same thing. I groaned. I had to sit with the Slytherins.

I walked over slowly, in my head considering my options. I could sit with either Pansy Parkinson or Blaise Zabini, as they were the only two with a spare seat beside them. I was seriously beginning to think that the Big Guy upstairs wanted me dead as well as the several hundred others. Pansy Parkinson, for obvious reasons, hates my guts and wishes me dead, and Blaise happens to be my ex-boyfriend. Kill me now, Voldemort, please.

I sighed and took the seat beside Blaise. I mean, at least we could be civil. With Pansy, I can never be too sure who'll crack and hit the other first. Especially after how I threatened her in the Hospital Wing.

"Hey, Violent," he said under his breath.

"Blaise," I greeted him tentatively. Don't you love those awkward conversations with the ex, particularly when you've decided not to let it be awkward between you? "How are you?"

"Yeah. Good. Yourself?"

"Alright."

"How's your -"

"Miss Faithe, I am loath to take more points from Gryffindor. If you would please keep your mouth shut and open to page two hundred and twenty-three, I would appreciate it," said Snape silkily. Ugh. He was so gross.

My mum told me once about how Snape used to get picked on at school. The kids used to call the greasy-haired boy 'Snivellus'. Rather inventive. I like it. Mental note: when I have the chance, I must use this name to goad Snape.

I didn't mention to the hook-nosed man that Blaise was the one doing most of the talking.

"Sorry," Blaise whispered. I did like him. He was attractive with his dark skin, thick curly black hair and dark eyes. And he was nice enough to the people he liked. I was glad it was a mutual decision when we broke up. There was just nothing... there you know. Besides, we only dated for a few months. I nodded at him, to show that I understood.

The class went quickly. When it ended, Teagan and I both went up the front to discuss our detentions with Snape.

"Miss Bell, let's see," he began, running his long finger down a piece of parchment. "I do believe that Professor Sinistra needs assistance tomorrow evening at five o'clock oiling the telescopes in the Astronomy Tower. It sounds like a perfect task for you."

"Yes, sir," said Teag. I could see her inwardly groaning. Those telescopes were dirty.

"You may leave," Snape dismissed her. Teag shot me a look of sympathy (it sucks to be alone with Snape) and hurried off to Divination.

"Violent, Professor Dumbledore needs to speak to you right away."

"Huh? What about my detention?" I asked in confusion.

"What detention?" asked Snape smoothly before continuing, "As I said, you and I shall make our way to the Headmaster's office immediately."

This was too much. Had Dumbledore heard something? Did he have any more details about my coming assassination?

I followed Snape numbly, my thoughts jumbled and my movements slow, through the castle. He took the quickest route to the Headmaster's office and stopped beside the stone gargoyle. He said the password and gestured for me to take the steps ahead of him. Aw, who knew Snape was a gentleman?

I knocked on the door and pushed it open when I heard Dumbledore call 'Enter'.

I stepped into the room. Merlin, I hated this room. Every time I was here I always had a horrible conversation - Draco's fate, my fate - and I wondered what bad news was in store for me this time.

"Ah, Violent," said Dumbledore, standing up slowly. "Please, take a seat."

"Is there something you wanted, sir?" I asked carefully, sitting down in the comfortable chair in front of his honey-coloured desk.

Dumbledore sighed. I watched him in confusion. I hadn't seen him look so haggard, ever. I was vaguely aware of Snape, shrouded in shadow, standing in the corner of the room. "I hate to have to tell you this. I'm afraid I have some terrible news."

Oh? That Voldemort's coming for me? No, thanks, I already know. I was tempted to say something sarcastic, after all, what news these days is good? But I sensed the seriousness of this conversation, so I remained quiet.

"Violent, you're mother is dead."

Silence. All I can hear is the silence. The pumping of blood through my body, the beating of my cold heart. My hands were shaking.

"What?" I asked quietly, looking up. My grey eyes met his blue ones and it scared me to see the sadness and sorrow that was contained in those electric blue depths.

"Callista was killed last night, at fourteen to eleven, in a muggle castle near Aberdeen. It was burnt to the ground. I'm so sorry. So incredibly sorry."

Shock. All I feel is shock. Numbness.

"Killed?" I finally managed to ask, my voice no more than a tremor. I kept my eyes fixed on Dumbledore's magenta robes, feeling the dryness. I felt like crying, like curling up and bawling my eyes out, but I couldn't bring myself to fall apart. Not here. Not in front of these men.

"Professor Snape was present, working for me. If you like, he can tell you the details."

"Show me," I whispered.

Dumbledore faltered, clearly not expecting this. "I don't think that is wise, Violent. It's not pleasant."

"My mother was murdered. Obviously it's not pleasant," I said softly, not finding within myself to call up the right amount of sarcasm. "Just show me. Please," I begged.

Dumbledore hesitated. He glanced at the back of his office, where Snape was standing. I saw him nod and glanced around to look myself. Snape moved forward, to a cupboard near the left wall. He opened the cabinet and I caught a glimpse of white basin and swirling mist. A Pensieve.

Snape stared at me. "Are you sure?"

I nodded, not sure if I was able to speak without crying. My mum was dead. My mum was gone. Gone.

I stood up and moved towards the white sink, my steps were slow and I couldn't tell if I was upright or not. It was like that feeling, when you get out of bed too fast and the whole world tilts.

My whole world was tilting.

I stumbled my way across the room. Snape raised his wand to his head and drew from it a silver thread. He placed it carefully in the Pensieve.

"Do you wish someone to accompany you, Violent?"

I shook my head. I don't know who asked, but I presumed it to be Dumbledore, because Snape sure as hell wouldn't offer. Besides, I don't think I could deal with someone witnessing it along side me.

I stepped forward, placing my hands on the rims of the basin. I turned to look at the old man with the white beard. "Will you wait here for me, though? I don't think I want to be alone after..."

Dumbledore nodded his head. I turned back to the Pensieve and leaned forward, towards the memory of my mother's murder.

~xox~

I hit the floor hard. I quite possibly broke my femur. I looked around, starting when I realised that I recognised the room. It was the hall in that horrible muggle palace in which I had previously met the Dark Lord. I trembled, noticing that the room was not empty.

My mother was still, lying tragically on the floor by the enormous window that overlooked the hideous ravine. I could see her chest moving, taking in oxygen, but her eyes were closed.

Standing coolly near the window, was Voldemort, twirling his wand between his long, white fingers. I shivered. This was a mistake. I didn't want to see this. I knew that they couldn't see me, that they couldn't hear me, that it was a just a memory. But it was so real. I heard a shuffling sound from the other end of the huge room. I turned my gaze and saw Snape, standing in the far corner, watching with a mixture of concern and fear.

Why didn't he help her?

"Talking to the Aurors, Callista, my darling," I heard the Dark Lord snarl. He was furious. He was hurt. He was irrational. His closest supporter, his favourite, had betrayed him. For me. This was my entire fault. I had begged her to help me.

What have I done?

Callista didn't move. She made no attempt to get up; her emerald-coloured robes were still splayed about her prone form. Get up, Mum, I begged in my head, please, just get out of here.

"Do you know what I do to traitors, my darling?" he asked her in a mock gentle voice. "I think the last traitor we had in our midst was Regulus Black, your beloved's brother. Interesting, very interesting. Do you remember him? He looked so like your sweet Sirius. They could have been twins. And, now they're both dead. With you soon to follow, my darling."

I heard a wretched sob from where my mother lay. No. I didn't want to see this. It was stupid. It was a mistake.

"What's that, my sweet?" asked Voldemort, moving towards her.

"I said," I heard Callista's shaky voice growl. "That you can kill me whenever you bloody well like, you don't have to stand here talking about it."

Go Mum.

I watched in horror as she slowly got to her feet, her brilliant green robes billowing in the draft that was whipping through the room. She looked strong, with her brown curls and angry olive eyes.

"So courageous, just like her daughter," laughed Voldemort. "She's a Gryffindor, isn't she?"

I hardly registered that they were talking about me. All I could hear was me begging for her to get the hell out.

"You leave my daughter out of this, you bastard!"

At this, he laughed harder. "No, I don't think I will. You see, Violent has done nothing to disobey me. The Malfoy boy is closer than ever to killing that old fool with her help. She'll make a great follower, don't you agree, Callista? Violent Black, The Right Hand to the Dark Lord. Just like her mother used to be."

"I won't!" I screamed, the tears finally making their way down my pale cheeks. "I'll never serve you!"

But no one could hear me. Callista was still staring at him in horror, he was still twirling his wand, and Snape was still looking on in dislike.

"You better hurry up, Tom. The Aurors will be here soon. I've told them where we are."

He sobered, his chuckles dying down. "Yes, indeed. I am fortunate that our location is all you managed to get through in that floo message of yours. I am glad Bella found you when she did, otherwise all our plans will have to change. Bella's coming along for the fun tonight, did I tell you? I thought she should have a chance to punish you before I dispatch you."

"Bring her on," snarled Callista. "Bellatrix was always your little house elf, wasn't she, Tom?"

The Dark Lord stared at her, his red eyes filled with hatred. "Indeed," was all he said. A minute ticked by in silence. It was dark in the room. The sparse candles held blue flames, creating a flickering non-light. It was eerie. It was... scary.

The door swung open. I whipped around, to see Bellatrix march across the room. She knelt at his feet. "My lord, I come to serve you and only you. Never would I betray your trust."

I felt sick, I could taste the sour bile at the back of my throat.

"Disgusting, isn't she?" said Mum, eyeing Bella with evident distaste. "So servile, so pathetic. Grow a spine one of these days, won't you, Bella?"

Bellatrix hissed, her black hair seemed to crackle with the tension in the room. Her grey eyes were fixed on her once-friend.

"My lord, may I show her some respect?"

Voldemort nodded and turned toward the window. Bellatrix stood and moved forward, grinning like a mad woman. Callista didn't take the expected step back. She was unarmed and the distance would not help her.

"Crucio!" screamed Bellatrix, pointing her wand at my mother's chest.

"No!" I yelled, bolting forward as my mother crumpled to the ground, gasping and twitching in agony. "Stop! Please!" I knelt beside Callista as she cringed in utmost pain. I tried to soothe her, to wipe the sweat from her brow and the hair from her face, but my hand sank right through her. I screamed my distress, not able to form words, just notes of pure panic.

My mum finally opened her mouth and let out a long, lasting cry of agony, it reverberated off the walls. I half-expected the huge window to shatter. I hoped it did. I hoped that Voldemort would by chance drop his wand and tumble off and fall to his much deserved death.

Bellatrix was laughing wildly, enjoying my mother's pain. I looked at Voldemort. He had a frown etched onto his features. I was surprised that he didn't relish this torture, as Bella did. I was surprised he wasn't laughing sadistically, too. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until the life flickered and died in those horrible red eyes. I had never felt such a strong surge of hatred before, not for Potter, not for Granger, not for anyone.

They say that your name is your virtue. If that is so, Voldemort had best sleep with his eyes open, because my name is Violent Black. One day, he is going to stare at me with fear, I swore to myself. He is going to feel every second of the pain he caused Mum and me. And he is going to feel it a hundred times worse.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of screaming, he gestured for Bellatrix to stop. He told her to leave. My mother was slumped on the ground like a ragdoll, a child's abandoned plaything.

"Get up, Callista," he said slowly. "You have been my closest follower, my strongest ally all these years. I will allow you the honour of dying on your feet in an act of defiance, rather than cowering at my toes. That would be ill-fitting for a woman of your calibre. Get up."

My mother hauled herself to her feet, crying out from the pain that was still sizzling through her body.

"I shall not draw this out, my darling," he said softly. "This is a black day for the both of us."

Voldemort stepped forward. He pulled my mother into a tight embrace, which, to my surprise, she returned. I watched them, my tears stopping for a moment, my jaw dropping in shock. I didn't think they were this close.

"Goodbye, Tom," she whispered. "Make sure Miriam-Rose stays with Narcissa. Tell her Mamma loves her. Take care of Violent, she's innocent and knows nothing of what I've done. Don't tell her how I died. I don't want her to have to think about it more than necessary."

He nodded, stepping back. Shit, I'd forgotten about Miriam-Rose, my half-sister. Then I realised that Mum was being very clever. I could see that Voldemort 'cared' for her enough that he would do exactly as she asked. She had just ensured that Narcissa would not be killed. Draco needn't worry about his mother anymore. I can't say the same for myself though...

"I will honour you with a funeral pyre fit for a Queen of the Dark, my darling," he said, once more drawing his wand. Callista raised her head proudly. "I hope you find your Sirius, wherever you may travel."

I tried to pull her away, to take her from this foul place of death. But my hands would not rest upon her skin. They sunk right through. I cried out in horror.

"I don't want to see anymore!" I yelled frantically at the ceiling, hoping that Dumbledore or Snape would miraculously hear me and fish me out of this nightmare. "Help! Get me out! I made a mistake - I can't watch this!"

I stared at her olive eyes, trying to make her see me.

"Mum! Mamma, please! Run!" I yelled in her face. Her beautiful greeny-brown eyes looked so peaceful.

Voldemort whipped his wand through the air. It was a non-verbal spell, but I recognised the hand gesture. Fuck! No! Fiendfyre!

From his wand blasted a tidal wave of flame. I had to raise my hand to keep it from blinding me with the brilliant reds, oranges and yellows.

Voldemort said goodbye on last time and stepped backwards, apparating from the room. I was screaming now, my tears flowing, still trying to tell my mother to run. But it was just a memory. It had already happened. There was nothing I could do. In the flames, I could see vague outlines of creatures - dragons, chimeras, serpents and griffins - all racing towards us in a surge of heat and light.

"Help us!" I screamed at the horrified Snape, poised at the door, ready to apparate as soon as the flames became too much. They were nearly upon Callista and I. It was strange. I could feel the intense heat on my skin, but it wasn't painful, it didn't burn. It was just heat.

I turned back to my mother. Her rosebud lips were curved in the most joyful of smiles. I had no doubt that she was thinking of Sirius. Of Dad. Like Voldemort, I hoped that she found him, somewhere.

"I'll find you one day!" I told her. "I love you, Mum! Tell Dad I love him, too..."

And the fire engulfed us. I had to close my eyes. I couldn't bear to watch my mother crumble to ashes in front of me. I couldn't. I fell; my mind was unable to tell my legs to continue to hold me up. I lay on the floor, sobbing and gasping, my arms over my head as the fire burned her.

Callista didn't scream. I'd like to think that she kept that beautiful smile on her face until the very last nanosecond because I hoped that the moment she entered Heaven, and my dad was there waiting for her, that he would see that blissful smile. Even in all of Heaven, I knew there wasn't a smile as magnificently radiant as Callista Faithe's when she was thinking of Sirius Black.

Suddenly, I felt a tugging feeling in the pit of my stomach. I forced myself to remove my arms from my eyes. The fire was still there, I couldn't see anything else. Mum was gone, long since burnt to ashes. The room was fading, the memory was finished, Snape had apparated.

I found myself moments later, back in Dumbledore's study. I was crying openly now, unable to hold back the sobs that were shaking my entire being. It hurt so much. All of me hurt.

It hurt so much. I felt myself collapse, fall to a heap on the floor. Merlin, I was sick of falling. It was like every time I tried to get back up, someone pushed me down again. But this time I didn't want to get back up. All I could feel was sadness and loss. And then, I felt no more.

~xox~

Awake.

The pain enveloped me again. I felt someone's arms around me, but I couldn't see through the tears that were now pouring down my face. I was pulled into their lap, and I could hear their soothing voice in my ear, telling me it was alright. That she's at peace now. God, I wish I was at peace. It sounds so... calm. They were stroking my hair and it felt good.

Draco.

I turned my face into his chest, still unable to stop that god-awful sobbing.

"It's okay," he whispered, tightening his grip around my waist. "It's okay."

"She couldn't hear me," I croaked. "I couldn't save her."

"No one could have saved her," he said softly. I could tell by the strain in his muscles that he was uncomfortable, that this wasn't something that he wanted to be doing. But I didn't care. I needed him to be here, with me.

I managed to wipe some of the liquid from my eyes, enough so that I could see that I was no longer in the Headmaster's study. I was held tightly in Draco's lap in the empty Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Snape was standing by the closed door; the look on his face was one of sadness and regret. I had never seen him wear that expression before. It was confusing.

"You fainted," he explained, noticing my gaze. "Mr Malfoy found me carrying you to the Hospital Wing. He would not let me take you there."

I nodded. I didn't want a hospital. I wanted my mother. But the horrible truth about life is that you don't usually get what you want.

"Thanks," I whispered.

"You have been excused from classes for the rest of the week," said Snape. "There is a funeral service on Monday. It is being held in Kingfisher Meadows, where your mother and... father used to live."

I nodded dumbly. "Why couldn't you save her?"

Snape sighed. "Would it have made a difference? She would have been killed had I intervened or not."

I already knew this was true, so I didn't argue with him. "Was Mum and him always that... close?"

Snape nodded. "Yes, the Dark Lord trusted her inexplicably. She knew about his entire life, everything from childhood to where he is today. She knew him better than anyone, a true friend."

"A person like that doesn't have friends," I muttered.

"Perhaps," shrugged Snape. "And I have something for you."

He came forward, away from the door. I managed to get to my feet, but I was still sobbing and trembling so much that Draco had to steady me. Snape handed me a silver ring. Set in it was a small topaz stone. The ring was quite bulky-looking. I stared at the pattern outlining it. Those snakes choking that little heart. I had forgotten to ask about it.

"Callista made that, as well as the necklace around your neck. It was her symbol after she joined the Dark Lord. It was appropriate," he said. "I went back to what was left of the castle. I found where," he swallowed, "Where it happened. I put what was left of your mother's ashes in that ring. You can toss it if you don't want it, but I thought you should have the choice."

I undid the clasp around my neck and slipped the ring onto the necklace, to rest beside the pendant. "Thank you," I said to Snape gratefully. I redid the clip and stared at the piece of jewellery that rested upon my collarbone.

Snape nodded. "Professor Dumbledore has opened a Floo for you in his office. Whenever you are ready this evening, you may depart to Malfoy Manor with Draco. Narcissa wishes for your input for the funeral service."

I nodded. "Where's Miriam-Rose?"

"With Narcissa. The Dark Lord had her delivered directly... after. She's okay."

I nodded again, and made my way to the door, relying on Draco too much for my liking. He stayed next me, a tight grip on my shoulder, for the whole trek to Gryffindor Tower. I spoke the password when we reached the Fat Lady, not really giving a shit if the Slytherin Prince heard me.

"Thanks," I whispered. "Are we going tonight?"

He nodded. "I'll meet you just here in an hour, alright?"

I said I would and stepped inside. It was four o'clock. Classes were over and the Gryffindors were hanging in the commonroom, waiting for dinner. I didn't pay any attention to them.

"Hey, Vi!" called Dean as I walked past. I didn't stop. I made no motion to let him know that I'd heard. I went straight up to the Girls' Sixth. To my annoyance, it was full. Except for Parvati, all the Sixth Year girls were there. Even Granger. Teag immediately noticed something was not right. Whether it was my expression, my wet cheeks or my trembling limbs, I wasn't sure. Perhaps it was all of them.

"Vi? Oh my God, are you okay?" she asked, already at my side.

I shook my head, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and my throat painful from the sobbing.

"What's wrong with her?" I heard Lavender ask. They watched me as Teag led me straight to the bathroom.

Tegs didn't ask again what was wrong. She knew that if I wanted her to know, I would tell her. I hadn't yet decided what to say. Or even if I wanted to say it. She pushed me towards the sink to wash my face, but I kept walking, straight to the toilet.

I threw up a couple of times and dry-retched the rest. Lavender and Granger hovered by the door. I could hear them whispering, but I didn't care. Teag rubbed my back as I wiped the vomit from my chin. I cleaned my teeth because I couldn't stand the taste of the bitter bile. I was shivering when I walked back out.

I sat on my bed. I was in shock. Teagan knelt at my feet, holding my hands in hers. She rubbed circles on my palms with her thumbs. It felt good. I couldn't bring myself to ask her stop, even though her warm touch sent tremors if mistrust through me. That's what I didn't understand. I didn't know what to say to Teagan.

Granger, noticing the goose-flesh on my skin and the vicious shivers that were racking my body, pointed her wand at the small fireplace in the corner of the room and swished the piece of wood.

The flames ignited on the small pile of kindling and I screamed. I screamed bloody murder. I threw myself on the floor, twisting in horror, begging her to put it out. It was too close to what my memory held.

She put out the fire immediately. "I'm sorry," she said, biting her lip in remorse. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's okay," I whispered. "It's okay." I think I was saying it more to myself than to Hermione.

I released a shaky breath and stood up. I went to my wardrobe and began pulling out clothes at random, tossing them onto my bed. When I had a pile that seemed big enough to last me a few days, I transferred them into my empty trunk. I changed out of my uniform into a pair of too-big jeans and pulled a ratty old hoodie on over my singlet.

"Where are you going?" asked Lavender. "We have school. Classes..."

What a Granger thing to say.

"Vi, what happened?" asked Teag again. "Tell us. We can help you."

I laughed bitterly at this, the tears once again finding passage from the corners of my eyes. Dammit. Now I'm not going to be able to stop them...

"Tell us," Teag urged. "Or just me. Tell someone."

I don't know what made me do it. Perhaps someone was hiding under the bed and had imperiused me. I didn't care. I didn't feel. I just... didn't anything. "My mother is dead."

Silence. Beautiful silence. Or it was beautiful, until Granger broke it. "Violent, I'm so sorry."

Lavender offered her condolences as well. I didn't say anything. What was I meant to say? Thanks? I wasn't thankful. I was as far from thankful right now as Draco Malfoy would be from an angry hippogriff.

Teagan hugged me, crying openly herself. I was shocked. She was crying at my pain, not her own. I had never known this type of... selflessness before.

"What happened to her?" she asked through her sobs.

"Killed," I said. "Death Eaters. The papers hushed it up."

"Shit," muttered Lavender. "Sincerest apologies to your family, Violent." And then she left the room.

Ha ha. Sure, my family were the ones who killed her. The funeral was going to be a farce. They all knew what had happened. Miriam-Rose and I were going to be the only sincere mourners there and it was pathetic.

"I'm going to stay with my family for week," I choked out. "Make funeral arrangements. I'll be back on Tuesday."

"Do you need help?" asked Teag. "I can take you to where you need to Floo, if you want?"

I shook my head. "Thanks, but I don't want... I don't..."

"Sh, it's fine," soothed Teag. I was crying again and I couldn't finish the sentence. I hadn't cried this much in my life. "Are you going now?"

I nodded.

"Here," said Granger. "I'll take your trunk downstairs, shall I?"

"Thanks," I whispered. Why was she being nice to me? I was always horrible to her. Damn, I hated pity. I hated her pity.

Teag lead me down the stairs into the commonroom, Granger just ahead of us, levitating my trunk. Everybody fell silent as soon as I set foot in the spacious room. They stared openly. I saw Lavender in the corner beside Parvati. Damn her! Just how loud did she have to say it?

Neville Longbottom came straight towards me. "I'm so sorry," he said sincerely. "I hope you're okay."

"Thanks, Neville," I said. I had always liked him. No idea why.

Dean and Seamus came up next to give their condolences and then Parvati. Ginny Weasley gave me a hug. I remember in Second Year when she used to cry on my shoulder most nights. I was the only one who knew about the bloody diary and its piece of Voldemort's soul. And I couldn't say a word.

Teagan swept me into the tightest of embraces when we reached the portrait hole. Granger set down my trunk. I pushed open the picture frame, grabbing the handle of the piece of luggage (because I was so magically defected and couldn't cast a decent wingardium leviosa to save my life) and began hauling it out of the commonroom after me.

I heard the click as the picture swung closed. The Fat Lady called out to me, "I'm sorry for your loss," as I walked away, towards the pale figure of Draco Malfoy, waiting by the stairs.

"Hey," he said when he saw me. "You alright?"

I laughed/choked. "No. But let's go."

We walked in silence (except for when he levitated my trunk for me, shaking his head at my lack of magical talent) all the way to Dumbledore's study. I knew Draco was tense about being there, but he didn't have a choice. He was expected to attend the funeral as well.

I didn't say much to Dumbledore when I arrived. I kept my eyes averted, not wanting him to see my current state of distress. I knew he'd ask to see me when I got back. I stepped into the fireplace, after Draco had told Dumbledore that my family was picking me up from his place, and dropped the green powder, saying, "Malfoy Manor!"

But I forgot about the fire part. I screamed and cried out in horror at the surge of flame and leapt back out of the fireplace and into the arms of Albus Dumbledore before it could magic me away to the Malfoy residence.

I was breathing heavily. Dumbledore set me in one of the chairs by his desk.

"What's wrong with her?"demanded Draco.

"Snape didn't tell you?" Malfoy shook his head in confusion. Dumbledore sighed. "She asked to see it. The memory. She used my Pensieve."

Malfoy looked horrified. "Why would she -? But what's with the screaming now, then?"

"Mr Malfoy, Callista Selwyn was burnt alive with Fiendfyre. Violent's reaction is quite understandable."

Malfoy swallowed thickly. "Oh."

I whimpered at the reminder.

"I'm sorry, Violent," Dumbledore apologised. "I'll have one of the teachers escort you to Hogsmeade. And I shall contact Mrs Malfoy to come and collect you. Is that desirable?"

I nodded. I hated to cause extra trouble (not sure when this started though, I would normally love to cause trouble) but I couldn't bear stepping into that fireplace. Not after I saw what happened to my mother. I don't think I'll ever be able to go near an open flame again.

Broken. I was broken.

Voldemort had shattered me and he didn't even know. He'd taken from me my own mother. He'd taken my father as well. I would make sure he took me, too, but only after I had exacted my revenge.

I don't think revenge tastes that sweet. But nothing is sweet these days. All I could taste is the bile in the back of my throat, all I could feel is heat and all I could see was all-consuming fire. I was in a blind rage, and I felt like my name. Violent. I was so close to lashing out. But I would rein it in. I was going to control this anger, this fury. It was a weapon that I would someday use.

I may be teenage girl, naive and misunderstood, I may not be more than a child, incapable of understanding the reason for murder, I may be a Death Eater, expected to kill on the whim of a madman. I may or may not be all of those things, but I assure you, I'm Violent Black and I will have my revenge.

And I like my steak bloody.

AN: Gah! I'll freely admit it - I bawled my eyes out while I was writing this chapter, it was so sad! My brother came in and was like, "What the hell are you doing? You do realise that laptops aren't water-resitant?" Haha.

I feel like I need to explain Voldemort's reaction. I know that in the books he has no friends and that Dumbledore makes this fact very clear. This makes me a little grmpy because darling Albus didn't know him well enough to make such an assumption. But then again, in the books Voldemort didn't have someone like Callista to become dependant upon. And in this story, he relied on her greatly - she was his right-hand. A "true friend", like Snape said. I'm sure he was very upset about her death but was so set in his rules and his very peronality that he couldn't bend or make exceptions to save his 'darling'. Nearly broke my heart, the bastard. Yes, I talk to my fictional characters a lot and I'll thank you not to tease me.

Yeah. I finally set an ending for the sequel. I'm not going to tell you what it is, but it was a toss-up between a very, very, excrutiatingly sad or a very, very, joyfully happy ending. So you can guess all you like, I'm not telling anybody. You can, however, tell me if you want the sad one or the happy one in the review. You never know, I might cange my mind at the last minute - the story is still open ended so that it can go either way. Maybe I'll post both endings, huh? Tell me what you think in a REVIEW!

I hope I didn't make you cry too much (*sobs*) but if I did, I'm very sorry. Sniff. Sniff. Please review, they inspire me to keep writing! I apologise for the painfully long authors note as well...

xx xx