Violent Deception

Chapter Nine

"Miss Black," squeaked the disgusting elf. "Mistress wisheses you to meets her in the foyer in fifteen minuteses. She's wants to takeses you to dinner, Miss."

I growled my agreement to the revolting wretch before me and once more crawled under the sheets. I had arrived at Malfoy Manor Thursday evening. It was now Wednesday afternoon. I had been asleep in my room since I got here. I had never slept in past daybreak before. It was off knowing that the sun had risen and set once more in the time I had been unconscious.

I was grateful for the sleep though. I didn't think I would have been able to sleep so easily. I thought I would be plagued by dreams of rushing fire and screams of pain. I have a feeling Narcissa slipped me a dreamless sleep potion though.

"Violent?" I heard a tentative voice ask from beside me. I grumbled lightly but did not open my eyes. Narcissa could take her fifteen minutes and shove them up her - "Violent, are you 'wake?"

Oh Merlin, had Pansy Parkinson and her Baby Talk returned? Wait, it sounded like...

"Miriam-Rose?" I asked groggily, sitting up. It came out like, "Miramose." The four year old was kneeling at the foot of my enormous bed. Her golden curls were messy and her big blue eyes were bloodshot and watery. I sighed and held my arms out to her. The little girl, my half-sister, crawled up the length of the bed and collapsed onto my lap, in a fit of unsuppressed sorrow. God, did I look like that when I cried?

I didn't bother comforting her, not quite knowing how. I just let her sob on my chest, mumbling to herself, "Mamma's gone, mamma's gone..."

"My mother is waiting for you," my head flicked up at the sound of Draco's voice. "You'd best dress at lightning speed."

I gestured to the crying child in my lap with an expression of annoyance and confusion. Draco rolled his eyes and came over to my bedside. I eyed him with mistrust. What? What normal person would trust having the Slytherin Stud in their rooms, while in minimal clothing? Not me. But I knew he wouldn't comment. I was grieving after all.

"Nice shorts."

Okay... So I was wrong.

"Fuck off. Take her will you? I have to go."

He nodded and pried Miriam-Rose out of my arms, a look of intense distaste on his pointed face. I hurried to the bathroom, trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep.

I groaned, when I reached my cupboard. The restaurant Narcissa was likely to take me to was not one I felt comfortable dressing for. With a scowl, I yanked on the ruby gown that she had had delivered. It looked pretty good on me, I must say. It itched like hell, though. The red contrasted brilliantly with my straight black hair and pale skin. The scarlet dress was backless, with loose sleeves that were split at the sides to billow about my arms; it was deep around my not-quite-there bust and tight from my waist to my knees where it flared out in a fish-tail. I could barely walk in the stupid thing. I'm sure if I were to raise my arms in a gust of wind, the entire evil contraption would have similar effects to a muggle parachute.

I threw a long, black muggle trench-coat on over the top, to hide the hideousness of the gown. I pretty much lived in trench coats during the holidays. It was horrible walking about in the lavish gowns Narcissa dressed me in.

I left my wardrobe to find Draco still on my bed with a crying Miriam-Rose. He shot me a pain-filled grimace but did not stop me from leaving the room. I was going to have to re-think my version of him as a heartless dickhead. Maybe he had a heart, and he was just a dickhead.

I walked calmly through the dimly lit corridors of the Manor, not really giving a damn about how long it took.

I suppose my reaction to my mother's murder is confusing. I felt the ache, the loss, the emptiness and the all consuming grief, but I couldn't display it. I guess I'd always been this way, afraid to show emotions that depicted weakness.

Guilt.

Love.

Loss.

My mother was gone. She'd died to protect me, to get me away from this mess we'd tangled ourselves in. I felt selfish. Even though I had never asked her to die for me, I hadn't really given her any other choice. You remember the weak emotions I mentioned up there? At the moment, all I could feel was them. Guilt, that it was my fault. Love, that my mother cared for me so much that she sacrificed her life so that I could live a better one. Loss, because she wasn't here anymore. I was completely alone.

It's strange because I had always been alone. I just felt it more keenly now. It was only this year that I had regained my trust in my mother. It was only this year that our relationship had been mended and reforged. And now it was all gone. Nothing left but a bit of ash contained in a ring held around my neck.

"Ah, Violent!" exclaimed Narcissa from below me. I had just reached the stairs. "Thank you for being prompt."

I inclined my head, not trusting myself to speak. I could see her eyeing the muggle coat with distaste, but she wiped the look from her face as I walked slowly down the stairs, giving my best shot at not being prompt.

"So, I've booked us an alcove at Derminio, in London," she prattled, clasping my elbow once I had descended the stairs. "It'll be very private," she assured me, leading me to the foyer.

"What are we doing there, exactly?" I asked dully.

Narcissa did look a little uncomfortable herself. "Making funeral arrangements and going over the will."

I nodded and she side-along apparated me directly to the door of the restaurant. I could see the fancy scrawl, Derminio, on a sign above the entrance. I took a breath and stepped inside.

The room was crowded. There were people everywhere, laughing, talking. There even looked to be a couple breaking up at the table near the bar, judging by the tears. Narcissa waited for the maître d' to address us.

"How may I help you today, Madam?" asked the portly looking man. His suit looked a few sizes too tight. I opened my mouth going to tell him so but Narcissa cut me off.

"A reservation for Malfoy, upstairs," she said briskly.

The man ran a finger over his moustache as he consulted his booking schedule. "Ah yes. The entire upstairs floor has been booked, correct?" Narcissa nodded primly. She may be annoying, but I did admire her poise. "If you'll follow me, Madam."

He led us up a flight of stairs and into a large, spacious room. The floating candles emitted a dull red light. It would have been depressing in another room. But here it matched the cherry wood and cream painted walls exquisitely. Not that I knew much about interior design or anything.

He seated us, took my coat and placed two menus on the table before backing away, saying, "Your server will be with you shortly..."

Narcissa waited for him to leave the room before turning to me. "Okay, Violent. Would you like to know what I have already planned?"

I nodded.

"Joseph Selwyn, your step uncle, has declared that we are permitted to bury Callista in the family cemetery. I think it is highly appropriate as her husband is already buried there."

Bury? But she'd been burnt to dust... my fingers traced the ring that held my mother's ashes.

"I was also thinking that a dusk service would be nice, to symbolise the end of her life. The colours are beautiful in Aberaeron. A traditional service would be ideal, I think, and I know a lovely florist. A few dear friends and relatives will be invited to speak about Callista's life and the experiences they shared with her. I was considering asking Bellatrix, Joseph and you to speak. Perhaps Miriam-Rose, if she felt up to it."

Was she insane? Did she know how my mother had died? Obviously not. Judging by the arrangements she'd made, Narcissa Malfoy had not known my mother all that well. In fact, I don't think anyone did. But I didn't blame Narcissa for her assumptions. I knew she well and truly wanted a nice service for Callista.

"Am I allowed to make any changes to that plan?"

Narcissa looked horrified. "Of course you are, dear! Merlin, the Dark Lord specifically requested that you had utmost control! I just thought that you might be a little too... overwhelmed and upset to think much about it. Are there any changes you'd like?"

I nodded quickly, tucking my hair behind my ears. "Yeah. Not at the Selwyns. I want her buried in the Black Cemetery. Next to my dad."

Narcissa's face fell. After all, Sirius Black hadn't exactly been on the Dark Side. "Are you sure? It's -"

"I'm sure," I interrupted her. "It has to be there. And not at dusk. I want a dawn service. And I don't want anyone to talk or speak or any eulogies or nothing. Callista valued her privacy and doesn't want people chattering about her experiences as if they knew her well."

Narcissa was quiet a moment. She sighed. "I'll have to check the bit about the Black Cemetery with Bella. It's okay with me, but as the other Black daughter, she does have a say. And I don't think she'll be too pleased. She has it in her head that she's doing the eulogy."

Bellatrix could shove that eulogy up her arse for all I cared.

"Dark Lord said I had utmost control, right? Whatever I wanted?" Narcissa nodded. "This is what I want."

"Okay. Okay. I'll organise it."

At that moment a young red-head stepped into the room. She wore a black apron and smart black pants and I could only assume she was our server. She came over to our table and pulled out her notepad.

"Good evening, my name is Layla. Can I get you anything to drink?"

Narcissa listed some fancy sounding French wine and I asked for water. The waitress disappeared and we waited in silence until she brought our beverages.

"Violent, there is also a problem with the Will," she cleared her throat and took a sip of wine. I nodded at her to continue. "Miriam-Rose had been left in the guardian-ship of Joseph Selwyn and me; I am to be the primary carer."

"Alright. What's the problem there?"

"As you aren't of age yet, your mother had to name a guardian for you too."

I raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't it be you and Joseph as well?"

The blonde woman sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "No. Callista has named Remus Lupin as your guardian until you turn seventeen in August."

"Professor Lupin?" I asked in surprise. Then I laughed. "Why would Professor Lupin be my guardian?"

"Lupin was one of your father's best friends at school."

Oh.

"But, Lupin works for them!"

"I know. I only received the Will this morning and I read it just before you came downstairs. I'm dealing with it, don't worry."

My eyes were wide with confusion and... relief. Lupin could help me. I had never considered him as an ally. I had always thought my options were Potter, Dumbledore and the Aurors. Lupin could save me...

"Does he know?"

Narcissa nodded. "Yes, he will have been informed of your mother's passing and that he is now the guardian of her daughter."

I was still staring at her in shock. "Does he know who I am? My name? My father?"

"No. He doesn't know anything. And we intend to keep it that way."

Of course they did. They intended to keep me away from everyone that could sway me to the other side. But was that what I wanted? Of course not. The bastards didn't care what I wanted.

I was about to demand that I see him, but closed my mouth and decided it would be best if I thought about it first, even discussed it with Dumbledore, perhaps.

I took a breath. This was all so difficult. I really wanted to find myself a nice quiet room and ball my eyes out for a while.

I had just lost my mother to a sadistic, evil monster intent on destroying humanity and yet, my life just develops more obstacles. Like I need them. Remus Lupin is my guardian. One of my father's best friends, a member of the Order of the Phoenix is my guardian. Well, fuck me sideways if this mess just isn't a little complicated.

"Okay, Narcissa," I sighed heavily. I didn't look up. The bone-white table cloth was just too interesting to direct my much wanted attention from. "When is it?"

"The funeral? Two days. I think everyone wants this..."

"All tidied up?" I asked, a hint of anger in my tone. Of course they did. They didn't want any more reason to ponder the murder of one of the Dark Lord's most trusted servants. "Tell me, how did she die?" I really wanted to know what story they put out.

"Bellatrix said the Aurors killed her," said Narcissa, swallowing deeply. "They came to the base - must have been tipped off - and murdered her. Avada Kedavra."

I nodded and stood up, leaving the restaurant, my blood red gown flowing about me. I looked like a goddess of destruction. And that's how I felt right at that moment - destructive.

I felt sorry for Miriam-Rose. She was too little to understand that she was growing up - and loving - people that were the epitome of evil. She didn't know that her mother had been burnt to ash for trying to save her daughter. And she wouldn't ever know.

Callista would fade from Miriam-Rose's four-year-old memory like dust on the wind. But I wouldn't forget. I wasn't that lucky. I would, however, exact my revenge. I just had to be careful how I went about it.

I realised I had no way to get home by the time I had gotten down the stairs. I wasn't going to swallow my pride and allow Narcissa to side-along me back to Malfoy Manor. And I was too young to apparate myself. I thought about Floo-powder, but really, did I want to go back anyway? And besides, it seems that I now have an irrational fear of fire. It was going to make getting around so much more annoying.

I would rather be anywhere in the world than have to face people that faked sympathy over my mother's pretend murder.

I stalked toward the maître d' and demanded to use the Floo grate. His moustache twitched as if my harsh tone but he led me to the fireplace without mentioning it. He handed me my coat, which I shrugged back on, knowing that it would be cold outside and thanked him for his services. I took a handful of green powder and tossed it to floor, saying loudly, "Spinner's End!"

I restrained myself from shrieking as the flames engulfed me, but I couldn't hold in the pitiful whimper as I threw my arms over my face and crouched in the embers, praying that it would end...

~xox~

Yeah. You know your life is fucked well and proper when you have no one but Severus Snape to turn to for advice. I stepped out of the fireplace, still breathing heavily and hobbled - this dress made walking difficult - out of the empty muggle house I had stepped into. I wondered who connected it to the Floo network. Probably the Death Eaters. It would be suss if people like Greyback and Lucius were constantly Flooing to Severus Snape's home. I trekked down the disgusting street to the Snape residence. The gutters were filled with muck and rubbish and it was dark out, lending the foul street an eerie glow. I half expected a wolf to howl or something... it was straight out of a muggle horror-film.

I knocked on the door of the hovel at the very end of the dirty street. I nearly fell out of my dress when Wormtail answered. He would have loved it, the filthy paedophile.

"Ah, Wormtail," I greeted him, slipping off my coat and dumping it in his arms. He looked shocked to see me, shocked enough that he took my trench without complaint. "Won't you be a dear and inform my lovely Professor that his favourite student is here for a quick chat?" I asked him in the most condescending tone I could muster. I knew full well that this man had been friends with my father and... erm, guardian. And I hated him for it. I hated him like I hated Potter - he had stolen a piece of Sirius Black's attention, too.

Pettigrew scurried - really, there was no other word to describe it - off to find Snape. I let myself into the house and found my way to what looked to be a sitting room. There weren't any pictures, no forms of decoration at all. The once white walls were grey and moulding and covered with shelves of books. The only furniture was a decaying old table and a threadbare sofa.

"Miss Faithe, to what do I owe the... pleasure?" I turned around to see my hook-nosed teacher swoop into the room like a great bird of prey. Really, the man resembled a vulture so much that it wasn't even funny anymore...

"Professor," I inclined my head at him regally, implying - very subtly, of course - that I was above him. He must have picked up on it, the sensitive man he is, as his lip curled in anger. "I was wondering if I could talk to you?"

"Well, you are obviously here and no doubt have no intention of leaving until we talk so... take a seat."

I smiled at him. It didn't work. It came out as a mere twitch of the lips. "Wormtail, if you would be so kind as to go and lock yourself in the boiler room until I leave, I would very much appreciate it." He took the hint and scurried off into the depths of the disgusting house.

"My mother died." Yep, that's me, Violent Black, the epitome of tact and diplomacy. Okay, so I wasn't quite sure how to start off.

"I think we've covered that I am already aware of your mother's passing, Violent."

"Yeah. I guess. Did you hear about the will?" I pressed on without waiting for an answer. "She named Professor Lupin as my guardian until I come of age."

Snape stared at me, horror and anger flitting across his face like a scene from Dance of the Butterflies. Not that I'd compare Snape's moods to the movements of innocent, winged creatures such as butterflies. But then again, I know a gal with some pretty intense opinions on the natures of butterflies... (AN: no one but hannahmeh will get that. Sorry.)

"Professor Lupin? As in, Remus Lupin?"

Wasn't Professor Snape meant to be mildly intelligent? What other Lupin did I know?

"Yes. He's been named my guardian. Narcissa wants me never to see him. That he'll sway me to the light with false hopes of glory and happiness. Blah, blah, blah. Anyway, I wanted to ask you something."

"You can ask..." he responded, but I heard the unspoken, "but whether I'll answer..."

I breathed out. Time to make use of the over-utilised and totally cliché line: here goes nothing. "Whose side are you on, Severus? - Do you mind if I call you Severus? - Because I'm a little confused. Dumbledore thinks you're his little pet, and the Dark Lord and co. think that your his number one thuper thpethial little guy." And yes, I said that with a lisp.

Snape stared at me. "And whose side are you on Violent Black? I think that is a more appropriate question."

I raised my eyebrows. "How could it be more appropriate? It's the exact same question I asked. And seeing as I asked first..."

Snape sighed and I thought he wasn't going to answer for a minute.

"What do you need that it matters what side I am on?"

"Someone to talk to. Someone in my position. Someone I can trust." I stared at him. If he really was Dumbledore's man, then at least I wouldn't be alone. I was making contingency plans. I needed someone to look out for me now that my mother is gone. I know it sounds cruel and harsh that I'm automatically looking for someone else to turn to, but what else could I do?

I don't want to always be alone...

And Callista wouldn't want that for me either.

"Whose side I am on does not come into question, then, Violent. I will advise you, talk to you," he said slowly. "I will help you no matter which side you choose."

I breathed out in relief, tears springing to the back of my eyes. "Thank you," I whispered before I stood up and wrapped my arms around his stiff shoulders.

Snape froze in horror as I hugged him. I wasn't really the hugging type, and it felt terribly awkward, but I had no idea what else to do and it just... came over me. I apologised to him as I pulled away. He curtly nodded his head but said nothing.

"You should see the Headmaster when you get back, Violent," said my new confidante as I collected my coat from the rack at the door Wormtail had hung it on. "Ask him if you should see Lupin."

"I will, thank you, Severus," I smiled slightly at him before walking out. I could have asked to use his fireplace, but I still was not ready to go home. And I really didn't want to use a fireplace anyway.

I walked down the desolate street, kicking empty beer bottles against the gutter as I trudged. It was not long before I stumbled upon a small, unkempt park. I turned into it. It was barely viewable from the road, as the trees and grass were so overgrown, it was hard to make it into the little clearing. There was a rusty swingset and broken slippery slide and I couldn't help but wonder if Snape had spent his childhood here.

I sat down, not giving a rat's arse if the wet grass ruined my dress, against the trunk of an old, rotting tree. I ran my fingers over the rough wood, thinking that I should like to stay here, just for a little while.

It was peaceful. And I didn't want to ever go back to reality. My mother is dead, my father is dead, my friend will probably soon be dead and I'll most likely follow him. Ah, the simplicity of life. At least, it was simple when I broke it down like that. I don't understand why I am worrying when I think of it that way. I mean, we're basically too dead to care about all the complexities in the end, aren't we?

I laughed out loud at the sheer thought of it. What does it matter that my life is fucked? I'm going to die soon anyway. There's no point worrying about the future.

My fingers ran over a rough patch in the bark of the tree. I turned my face to it, trying to decipher the age-old letters somebody had scrawled there. Lily + Sev.

I smiled. Maybe Severus had come here as a boy, after all. It didn't seem like a bad place to waste away the days. Lily. It sounded familiar.

"...Especially after what happened to Lily..."

"Lily?"

"Severus was at school with us. He was in love with Lily Evans, Potter's mother. And the Dark Lord killed her. He hasn't been the same since."

I remembered the conversation. I wondered if this person was Lily Evans. Maybe it was. I felt sorry for Snape and his broken heart.

Severus and Lily.

Callista and Sirius.

Violent and Draco.

All love stories destined to have painfully unhappy endings. Lily had been killed at the hands of the man Severus had thought God. Sirius had been murdered by his cousin, Callista's best friend. And Violent was going to be murdered for not being able to murder Draco who will also be murdered for not being able to murder Dumbledore. Whoa... too much third person for me.

I dimly wondered why I had paired me and Draco into the collection of tragic romances as we were not in love. We comforted each other and that was it.

Well, maybe I knew it wasn't it. But I think I might be too afraid to find out if it was something else entirely. And I was afraid that if I enjoyed the new it too much, it was only going to hurt more when we were killed.

Alright, so I've developed a new codeword for me and Draco's, erm, relationship. Said relationship shall now be referred to as it.

I leaned back against the tree, letting my eyes drift closed. It was so comforting to just sleep here. It was quiet and peaceful and I didn't ever want to leave and return my normal state of confusion, hatred and panic.

~xox~

I woke at dawn and felt a rush of pity - no doubt Narcissa had been out all night looking for me. She was probably worried I was suicidal or something. Hm, I hadn't actually thought of suicide yet. Mental note: consider killing myself - it would make everything so much easier.

I walked quickly to Snape's, who was very surprised to see me, and begged him to side-along apparate me back to the Malfoy's. As expected, Narcissa was pacing nervously across the foyer. She threw her arms around my neck when she saw me release Snape's arm. Severus nodded at her and disappeared once more.

Narcissa didn't say much. She sensed that I had needed time alone. She sent me to the library. I know! Who would send me to a library? I went anyway - there really wasn't all that much else to do. I needed to eat, having had no food since I left school. Damn, that had been a while ago. I was about to turn around and have a house elf make me some food, but I saw a strange figure crossing the open door to the library. There shouldn't be anyone here but Draco, Miriam-Rose, Narcissa and myself - Lucius being in Azkaban. The figure was much too tall to be either Malfoy. It was also feminine. But the light shining from the open window in library was glary and all I saw was the pacing silhouette. Curiosity won out and I headed inside.

"Ah, Violent!" I recognised the voice immediately and my throat closed up in unease. Aunt Bellatrix.

"Hello, Bella," I said dully. I could feel my stomach acids trying to digest my sunken heart.

"My condolences for your loss," she said. She didn't look sorry at all. She looked... excited. "Callista was a dear friend to me."

And yet you tortured her and allowed her to be brutally murdered... Some friend.

"Thank you," I responded stiffly. Bellatrix Lestrange was not one to cross. She was as bi-polar as Voldemort suffering PMS and was likely to physically tear your external limbs off as soon as smile at you.

"I spoke to Narcissa. I understand that you do not wish anyone to speak at the funeral. I did, however, take the liberty of moving it forward to tomorrow at dawn. It's much more convenient for everyone involved."

My eyebrows shot upwards in anger. This was Bellatrix's way of telling me that she has control. I bet she hated the idea that the Dark Lord entrusted the management of mum's funeral to me, her daughter, rather than Bellatrix. Well, suck it, bitch!

"More convenient? For whom, Bellatrix? You?" I asked, an evident sneer in my voice. "Because I don't give a flying fuck what you think!"

Her dark eyes widened in fury. "How dare you speak such filth to me?"

"Not only that, but you must be fucking joking if you think you can pull this kind of stunt on my mother's funeral."

She took two steps forward and slapped me across the cheek. It was a whopper. My jaw almost fell off. I knew I would have the handprint for a few days. I flinched and swallowed the blood from where I had bitten my cheek and stared back at her.

"You're your muggle-loving father's daughter, aren't you, Little Black?"

"Well, since you killed him, I can't actually get a paternity test now, can I?" I turned and went straight back the way I came. I was not in the state of mind to fight with Bellatrix Lestrange. I didn't have a death-wish just yet.

"Don't turn your back on me, Violent!" she shrieked at me.

"Fuck it," I called over my shoulder. Then I paused and made a show of reconsidering. "Actually, come to think of it, fuck you, Bella. Fuck you to hell!"

AN: Woohoo! New chapter! This is actually Part A. Chapter Nine itself was over ten thousand words, so i've had to split it into two chapters. The next one will be up soon and I promise there will be much more angst and depression for poor Violent. I really torture that girl, don't I? Gee, you know you're going mad when you feel sorry for fictional characters. But then again, most teenage girls are mad - we're all in love with Edward Cullen. Sigh. 3

There will be a warning on the next chapter, but I'll write it here as well. Chapter ten contains referencing to rape/sexual abuse and if you don't like reading about it... don't read it. it's not very detailed or graphic or anything, but if you can't stand the very idea of it... sorry. :(

Please review!

xx