10
Sarah POV
"Who do you think knew Grindelwald best?" Hermione asked as we sat around eating breakfast. I was sitting as far back from her as possible because she was wearing the Horcrux. Unfortunately, that put me inbetween the guys, who were fiercely protective now that I'd 'seen' Malfoy. If they could cut my toast for me, they probably would, which made me mad, even though I knew that they were only concerned. Even now I could feel them glancing at me as I pushed my toast around my plate; my appetite was slowly going.
"Your Auntie Muriel seemed to connect him to Dumbledore at the wedding," Harry said to Ron, who grunted from around a mouthful of toast. Harry looked troubled now that he was speaking of Dumbledore, and I didn't blame him. I was still angry at the Unbreakable Vow that was keeping me from telling more about the sword. "She mentioned that Dumbledore's family was close to Bathilda Bagshot." Harry glossed over the part about Dumbledore's sister, and no one brought it up, and for that, I was thankful. I wanted to think of Dumbledore as little as possible, and I didn't want another reason to hate him.
"That would mean going to Godric's Hollow, Harry! You Know Who-" Hermione said, sitting up straight, but Harry kept going.
"Muriel said that Bathilda Bagshot and the Dumbledore's were neighbors. If Dumbledore knew Grindelwald, then Bathilda probably knew him too. She could probably tell us about the both of them. What d'you reckon, Ron?"
"There aren't any other people we know, right? Who else would we go after?" He asked, shooting a surreptitious look at Hermione to see her reaction. Lately, Ron had been actually thinking logically and then beaming under Hermione's surprise when he made valid, scholarly points. It was cute.
"I'm not saying we can't go, I'm just saying that it'll be really dangerous! There's a good chance that there are Death Eaters waiting in Godric's Hollow for you!" Hermione insisted. "Your parents are there, Harry, and he'll take advantage of that!"
"I think you need to keep in mind that you're pursuing what You Know Who is doing and not the Horcruxes." I said as Hermione and Harry stared at each other, Ron chomping indifferently next to me. "Whatever wand lore he might be digging into has nothing to do with Horcruxes. We're barking up the wrong tree."
"Well, to destroy the ones we've got, we'd need the sword of Gryffindor." Ron said with an air of nonchalance. I turned and looked at him, eyebrows raised, ready for our next fight. If he wanted to say something, then he needed to say it, not dance around the topic like a prick.
"Hey! Maybe Bathilda has the sword!" Harry shouted suddenly, and we all turned to look at him. "She's an old family friend, someone Dumbledore could trust. Maybe he gave her the sword to hide in Godric's Hollow!"
"But Harry, everyone knows that they were family friends! Couldn't Vold- You Know Who just go there and get it himself?" Hermione said quietly. I silently agreed with her, furious that I couldn't confirm or deny if they were right; then shivered as a strong breeze passed through the tent.
"It's at least worth a shot! Ron made a good point, it's not like we know anyone else who Dumbledore would trust the sword to." Harry argued, and I got a shock. I knew who he'd left it to. I felt my spirits rise; maybe this was the chance, the moment I'd been waiting for.
"I know who he left it to. He left it to-" I choked over nothing at all as my friends' heads whipped around to stare at me. "To-" I tried again and grabbed my throat as my windpipe started to close without my permission. My body was strangling itself.
"She's choking- Sarah, stop, stop!" Hermione cried out, leaping to her feet. Spluttering and gasping, I cleared my head of all thoughts of Snape, and the black spots racing across my vision from lack of oxygen started to die. My windpipe re-opened as I wiped at my streaming eyes, coughing and cursing Dumbledore in my head. Now was the time to tell this, we needed to move forward!
"Are you ok?" My friends chorused, and someone put an arm around my shoulders. I was sick and tired of hearing that question being directed my way. It made me more and more alerted to the fact that I was slowing them down.
"No," I growled, massaging my now sore and burning throat with a scowl. "Dumbledore was a prat for making me take the Vow. I was this close, this close to telling you!" I gave them the usual tiny estimate with my fingers, still glaring. "Damn it, you know what, screw this, I need a walk." I shook off Harry's arm and climbed unsteadily to my feet. Without another word, I stormed out of the tent, calling Fawkes, frowning. He swooped down from the clouds and settled on my shoulder, crying quietly when he sensed my mood. Beating my wand against my palm, I walked the wide perimeter of our protective spells, catching snippets of Hermione trying to reassure the boys that I was just frustrated and tired, making excuses for me when she shouldn't have. As my feet trudged through the dying grass, my temper started to fade. When it was completely gone, I started to fill with dread. My temper was going faster and higher than ever these days, and usually I kept it well under control. Something was wrong.
It was Bellatrix. She'd done this before, and was probably having an easier time with me surrounded by Horcruxes. I'd had this mark on my skin for almost a year and a half, longer than anyone had ever had it on them before. Maybe I was going mad, like her. Maybe she'd seen into my head already, like I'd seen into hers, and was helping Voldemort track us down. Maybe the magic of the Unbreakable Vow was tightening because it knew I was the weakest link and that my head wasn't safe anymore. Maybe I was dying. One thing was clear; we needed to destroy these Horcruxes as soon as possible. Fawkes nipped my hair gently, jerking me to reality. I'd stopped walking in the far corner of the spells, the furthest away from the tent, holding myself together. I looked up at him, and he looked pointedly at my arm. With a sigh, I rolled back my sleeve with a wince and blanched at the sight of the mark. It was staining my arm again to that black, awful color. It was like an infection, a disease. Fawkes flew over me and above my arm, already starting to cry. As the tears landed on it, they burned with pain, like right after our escape from the Ministry, causing me to shiver each time. Finally, after Fawkes had cried himself dry, I looked back at the mark and lurched. It hadn't changed at all; it had only started to pulse, as if it was alive. "Hey, are you ok?" Ron's voice made Fawkes blast upward with a flair of feathers and made me whirl on the spot in fright.
"Merlin, Ron," I said shakily, quickly shoving down my sleeve as his eyes traveled to it and widened in shock.
"What the-" Ron blurted, ignoring me and pushing my sleeve back up, eyes raking over the dark, sick looking skin. "Sarah, what is this?" He asked, horrified, letting go and allowing me to hide the mark.
"Ron, listen to me," I said quickly but quietly, "It's just a little strong today. Fawkes just cried on it-"
"Yeah, I saw, but what did it look like before he cried on it? Merlin, Sarah!" He whispered back fiercely. He looked aghast as I flinched when he hit it right on the head. "Was it worse?! You have to tell us these kinds of things-"
"Ron, it wasn't worse, ok? It wasn't, I swear. When Fawkes cried on it, nothing happened. I'm going to wrap it and then we're going to act like it never happened, ok? Please Ron, we've got enough to worry about-" I pleaded. Ron just looked at me, clearly still horrified.
"It's killing you, isn't it?" He asked quietly, making me stop. I considered lying, blowing him off, even shouting at him. In the end, I went with a version of the truth. I knew that it was going to, but I didn't know if it was happening yet.
"I don't know." I said honestly. "If it was, I'd think that it'd hurt more; I'd notice it. It's just being difficult." We looked at each other silently for a minute, then, he spoke.
"No more secrets, ok? Please." He offered, and I nodded quickly, helping him pick up all the feathers Fawkes dropped. I let him put an arm around me on the way back to the tent too.
"Is everything ok?" Hermione asked as soon as I ducked into the tent, Ron following.
"Dandy," I said, flashing a quick smile, going to my bunk and quickly wrapping feathers over the mark, gritting my teeth when it started to smart and chafe.
Bellatrix POV
"My Lord, I beseech you. I have remained dispassionate, but I feel that now is the time to strike. You are well in control of the Ministry and Hogwarts. We could end all of this now and find Potter." I presented my case to the Dark Lord, kneeling humbly at his feet.
"This is not about Potter, is it, Bellatrix? This is about your Mudblood and her trickery." He said, and thrill I always felt when he said my name was tainted by his main point, making me scowl, dipping my head lower in shame. "The connection is strong, I take it?" He asked lightly, but I could hear the interest behind it.
"It grows every day. I have had dreams," I admitted, burning with resentment. It was good to see how I was changing her, but frustrating to see little bits of temptation everyday.
"What kind of dreams, Bellatrix?" he asked almost lazily, but with a hint of impatience.
"I have seen her casting spells in a wide circle in the company of the other Mudblood, the blood traitor, and Potter himself. I have seen her argue with the blood traitor. She cooks." I sneered the last fact, remembering how she's made tea for the sick ones, cooked breakfast like a house-witch, as if she was worthy of magic. It made me sick.
"So they travel together under the protection of spells…" He voiced aloud thoughtfully, fingering his wand through long, white fingers.
"But they are together. I could get into her head, incapacitate her, and find their location. It would be too easy, my Lord." I added eagerly.
"If they are under the protection of spells, Bellatrix, they could Disapparate before we broke them," He said dryly after a moment.
"Anything in her head is viable for me to see." I pushed forward, not daring to raise my head to see his expression.
"With the exception of Dumbledore's Vow." He corrected, sounding irate. I hesitated, wondering if I could push him further now that he was furious. Any mention of the old fart usually sent him into a rage.
"They might have other plans." I continued bravely, and there was silence.
"Yes. Patience, Bellatrix. This is not the time to strike, not yet. They will become desperate soon enough and do something misguided. If we do not catch him then, you will have free reign." He said, voice neutral once more. A wide smile broke over my face at the prospect of finally hurting the Mudblood. I'd waited for so long, obsessed over her, been tricked by her, and dreamed of her. Now I'd be able to hurt her again, hear her scream with pain in her own head, maybe even see her worthless blood drain from her body.
"May I have her, My Lord, after you are finished?" I asked, trying to keep the hope out of my voice and failing. He chuckled, the sound making my heart beat faster.
"I could not deny you; you marked her. She is yours." He said, sounding amused. I kissed the hem of his robes, once, twice, three times. Only then did I dare to raise my head, unable to keep the smirk of pleasure off my face. Now that she was to be mine, I could really cause her pain, use all kinds of Dark Magic. She didn't have to stay alive after the Dark Lord was finished with her. She didn't have to be sane, either.
"You are most gracious, My Lord. Thank you." I murmured before leaving. Once alone, I felt a feral smile creep onto my face as I fingered my wand lovingly. I hadn't thought about which spells I wanted to use, which methods of torture would suit the little bitch the best. Nearly skipping down the hall, I slipped into the dining room, kissing Rodolphus at the door. "Your pain last year was not wasted," I told Draco gleefully as I passed him and Cissy, interrupting an argument they were having.
"I beg your pardon?" He asked, sounding irritated, probably from Cissy's nagging. My sister was ridiculous.
"The Mudblood is going to pay. The Dark Lord has made plans, and she will be mine." I growled the last word in satisfaction as Draco's mouth fell open. "What you wanted her? Maybe I'll give you a taste, a teaser. You certainly have a claim, no matter how small it is, for having to deal with the chit." I said thoughtfully, then shrugged, hooking arms with Rodolphus again. "It's your choice."
"I-I would be honored," He spluttered, his face still full of shock.
"That's the Draco I know," I purred, then kissed Rodolphus' cheek as we walked away, dreaming of the Mudblood's pain…