Chapter 11: The Beginning of the End

A/N- This takes place a few weeks after chapter 10. Harry's been agonizing about whether or not to use the love potion Malcolm gave him in the previous chapter.

Adriana sighed and stared at herself in the mirror, thinking about Severus Snape. She recalled how terrified she had felt upon being taken by the Dark Lord after they had tried to save Sirius, and how her terror had magnified when he had stepped into the room she had been kept in. It was a beautiful room, only fit for a princess, but she swiftly realized it was a gilded prison cell. It had been so strange, to be kept in luxury and fear all at the same time. When Severus had come, she had not known what to expect.

She sat slowly on the edge of her bed, running a brush through her thick hair, half smiling to herself. He had surprised her; he had spoken in soft, hushed tones, and attempted to comfort her in his awkward, strangly distanced way. Has anyone bothered you, that's what he had asked, has anyone bothered you. He knew perfectly well that Lucius Malfoy had been there a few hours earlier, and what he had done, she could see it in his fathomless eyes. So she told him no, no, nobody had bothered her. It was easier to lie to him, much easier than admitting what had happened. And then he pressed a small potions bottle into her cold hand, and thier fingertips touched; and he told her to drink it as soon as possible. It was all he could do, he whispered, all he could do, and then he shook his head in disgust. And then he turned to leave, and she grabbed his arm, clutched it, begging him not to leave her alone again, not in the horrible room, couldn't you stay for just a little while? How pathetic she must have sounded, how needy. He had looked down at her, into her shining eyes; and then he wrenched himself from her desperate grasp and was gone, out the door, and she stood there, clutching the potion, and willed herself not to cry. She had done enough of that already. Perhaps it's poison, she thought with a leap of her heart, perhaps he knows I'll never escape...this is an act of mercy.

She could die in her sleep...not in the Dark Lord's arms.

She drank it then, drank the foul tasting mixture until the last drop was gone.

But instead of death, something else washed over her; a strange fealing of detachment, a numbness...It was like a veil separeted her from her surroundings, like she was no longer there... and the next time she was summoned to Riddle's quarters, she felt no pain, and remained silent when he interogated her about the Order.

It had been so lovely, not to feel anything. So peaceful.

Severus returned several times with the potion, and only once she had cried. He held her as she sobbed, held her in his safe embrace, and he whispered, more to himself than the girl in his arms, that she looked too much like her mother.

Voldemort released her shortly after that, and his smugness had sent a feeling of dread sinking into her. Why should he be so happy, so eager to put her back in the Order's midst? What had he done to her, to make him so confident?

She realized shortly afterward that his physical abscence from her did not keep him from her mind.

He came to her in her dreams sometimes, and she remembered. She didn't like to remember.

She sighed at her reflection again. She wandered over to the old vanity Sirius had given to her and sat down comfortably on the shabby chair positioned in front of it. Adriana knew Harry was worried about her, worried about her hollow cheeks and increasingly shrinking form. She ate less, slept less- she was afraid to sleep, because of the dreams. She wished Severus was here, so he could make her that potion. She wished Harry wasn't spending so much time with the minister, so she could go to him, and he'd comfort her. He was probably sick of her, that's why he was gone so much. He was sick that she needed him so much, sick of how she constantly came to him in the night...

Harry was changing, getting worse everyday, and she couldn't reach out to him, couldn't reach out and comfort him, as he had done for her. He had suddenly become distant from her, as if he was hiding something, or... An idea, half formed, flitted through her mind... and then there was a knock at the door.

Hoping it was Harry, she glanced at herself critically in the mirror, running her fingers hastily through her hair. "Come in!" she called, pinching her cheeks to get some color.

"Hi," said her visitor, stepping in cautiously. "Free to talk?"

Her heart sank slightly. "Oh, Ron, it's you."

The redhead grinned. "Sorry to disapoint you. Expecting somebody else?"

"No, I...Well, I was hoping Harry..."

Ron's face fell as he took another step forward. "Nah. He's gone out again. He probably won't be back for a while yet."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

An awkward silence descended on them, and she watched with fascination at Ron's ears slowly turned red. He gave her a strained smile and motioned toward the bed. "Mind if I sit down?"

"What? Oh, sure, yeah. Go ahead."

He sat slowly and clasped his hands on his lap, turning slowly pink and doing his best not to examine her new yellow nightgown. It was pale, and somehow brought out the smooth creaminess of her skin, and made her strange eyes all the more piercing... and it clung all to well in all the right places. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Right," he started. She smiled at him encouragingly, which made his face go even redder. He stared at the ceiling as he continued. "Right. Well, Adriana, I came here to ask you something very important." He cleared his throat again and snuck a glance at her. She looked half frightened and half curious. " Right. As you know, I'm sure, I broke up with Hermione a few weeks ago, and she's not really talking to me anymore..."

"Yeah, I might have heard about that whole thing once or twice."

He let out a choking laugh and she smiled at him. He wasn't a bad guy, not really. She wondered why Harry barely spoke to him anymore, and realized Ron must be lonely without him. Just like she was.

"Right. Well, ah..." his heart hammered in his chest. "I just wanted to know if you, I dunno,wantedtogoforabutterbeersometime,or not, whatever, I just really like you..." His gaze returned to the ceiling as his face burned with embarassment. 'I just really like you?' Who says that?

"Did you just ask me out on a date?"

He cringed. "Yeah. Sort of. If you don't want to, that's cool, I..."

She stopped listening to his nervous chatter as an image of Harry floated through her mind. She thought about the strange way she felt sometimes about him, when he hugged or kissed her...

"...and you know, I hope we can still be friends, that this won't change anything..."

It was stupid. Silly. Harry was just being a good brother, nothing more. She was just confused. And he had been so distant lately. Besides, Ron was kind of sweet.

Ron continued his small rant, staring at the ceiling the entire time. "...it'd be no pressure, just go for a butterbeer or something like that, or whatever you want..."

She rose from her seat, decision made, and to his amazement, kissed him on the cheek. He stared in awe at her as she grinned down at him. "Going for a butterbeer would be just lovely. Tomorrow, maybe...at 2 o' clock?"

His brain felt like it had frozen over. "Two? Two's fine! Just fine! Just great!" He leapt up from the bed, praying that he wouldn't trip, face ablaze. She giggled. He resisted the urge to grab her and kiss her right then and there as she walked him to the door.

Adriana couldn't quite believe she had just accepted to go on a date with Ron, Ron Weasley of all people; he completly went against her type; but he would be good for her, she decided. She was so lonely, so separated from everyone else, and he was kind of cute, and funny, and sweet. They would have fun together. He turned to her in the hallway and grinned from ear to ear at her. "Maybe we could catch breakfast in the morning too, there's a great new place in Hogsmeade. You could wear that new dress you bought last week..."

"Oh, I don't know if I can wear that, I can't really pull off patterns that well..."

He shook his head and smiled down at her. "You'll look beautiful." He sounded so confident, and his eyes were so warm and happy...He really liked her, she realized. He really wanted to get to know her better.

She blushed and she ran her fingers through her hair. "Alright. We can leave in the morning," she said shyly.

He leaned forward and kissed her lingeringly on the cheek. "Can't wait," he whispered in her ear. Then he Disapparated with a loud crack, and she felt strangly pleased that he had been showing off for her. Everything seemed lighter, and more far away as she sat back in front of the mirror. She smiled and her reflection smiled back warmly. This would be good. This would be moving on from what had happened. She began brushing her long black hair again, humming.

"Hey."

She let out a startled gasp and whirled around, heart pounding in her chest. "Oh, Harry!" She pressed a hand to her heart. "You scared me! What's wrong?"

Her big brother just stood there, in the middle of the room, dressed in what seemed to be his new uniform: black pants, black shirt. His uncontrollable hair stood up at all angles and he ran his long fingers through it, hard; his eyes blazed as he stared at her. When he spoke, he seemed to choke out every syllable, as if he was trying not to yell at her. "What was Ron doing in here?"

She felt herself shrink back in her chair at his tone.

"Well? What WAS HE FUCKING DOING IN HERE?"

She rose from her seat, hands shaking. "N-nothing-"

"DON'T TELL ME NOTHING! WHAT THE FUCK WAS HE DOING IN HERE AT ONE IN THE MORNING?" He grabbed her arm and dragged her to him, fingernails digging painfully into her skin. He stared down at her, and clutched her arm harder as she tried to pull away. A memory came to her suddenly, and it felt like a punch to the gut as she remembered that the Dark Lord had grabbed her one night in the exact same way. Tears came unbidden to her eyes as she felt a familiar panic bubble up within her.

"Let me go-"

"ANSWER ME! WHY WAS HE KISSING YOU?" His voice lowered suddenly, and he narrowed his eyes, and she realized he'd been drinking. Lately, he had been coming home drunk more and more, almost every night. Thoughtlessly, his grasp on her arm tightened, and his nails broke her pale skin as he brought his face closer to hers. She barely felt the pain as his lips brushed her cheek. "You know," he whispered huskily, "If I had known that you were so undiscriminating with who you let in your bedroom..." She smelled the reek of whiskey on his breath as she felt his his other hand's fingertips slowly travel up her thigh.

She slapped him then, as hard as she could, and he stumbled back. "How dare you," she hissed as she wrenched herself from his loosened grip. She stared down at the crescent shaped cuts on her arm, stared at the blood welling up to the surface, refusing to think about the little thrill she had felt at his touch. She looked back up at him. "You're worse than Voldemort," she whispered, devastated. "You're worse than the Dark Lord." And it was true, she thought, sickened. Riddle had never looked at her with such rage, such...what was it? Hate? Anger? No, she thought slowly, it was something else. Something worse.

Harry stared blankly at her. "Adriana," he began slowly. "I-"

"Leave," she managed to choke out, folding her arms across her chest so he wouldn't see how her hands shook. "Just leave."

He shook his head and reached out for her, as if he was going to hug her. "Adriana, please, I need to-"

"GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY ROOM AND LEAVE ME ALONE!" she screamed, the panic finally surfacing. "GET OUT! GET OUT!"

He retreated then, and slammed the door behind him.

When she was sure he wasn't going to come back in, Adriana burst into tears.

End Chapter.

A/N- Ah, young love. Gee, that love potion would really come in handy, now, wouldn't it...

I don't believe what Harry did was out of character- he was drunk, under a lot of stress, and you can only hold in your feelings for so long before they manifest themselves in a negative way.