Author's Note: Please bear with me, guys. I should have a new computer in a couple of weeks. I expect the story to be finished in the next month and a half or so-and there's still plenty of story to go! I hate to think I might have lost some fans who were enjoying the story-I'm writing as much as I can. I have outlines for future chapters in the works, so I should be able to knock them out quickly enough whenever I do have computer access. Please keep letting me know how you feel about the way the story is progressing!
She awoke in darkness. She couldn't quite get her bearings, but for a sleepy moment she didn't care. The bed was so comfortable, plush. She could stay here forever.
From out of nowhere a light flashed on; she squinted against it, but as her eyes adjusted she looked around. The bed she lay in was a huge four-poster, not too unlike the ones at Hogwarts. The bedspread, softer and thicker than the one she was used to, was a deep green with silver strands weaved through it; the walls and decor held a similar theme. But as she came to her senses and remembered the events of-what? Yesterday, two days ago? She had no idea-she couldn't be comfortable. She shot upright.
Only then did she notice the figure in the doorframe. The house elf was old and wore some sort of filthy sack that drooped in such a way that it covered very little of the wrinkled little body.
"Where am I?" she demanded of it.
The house elf smiled pleasantly. "Mistress is in her new quarters. Lonny will be seeing to Mistress's needs."
"Get me out of here," she demanded. "If I'm your mistress, surely you're capable of that."
Lonny's eyes widened so much they seemed to take up her entire head. "Oh, Lonny is so sorry, Mistress, but Lonny cannot. You see, Lonny's true master is the Dark Lord. Lonny is only to do what Mistress says as long as it does not oppose the Dark Lord's wishes."
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
There was no time to wallow, Lily decided. She needed to find James and get out. "Lonny, what is this place? And where is James Potter?"
"This is the Dark Lord's manor," explained Lonny. "Lonny is not permitted to know where to find the manor on a map, nor are any house elves. Mister Potter is in another wing."
"Is-I mean, do you serve him too, or is that the job of another house elf?"
Lonny beamed with pride, her little chest puffed out as she edged closer to the bed. "Mister Potter is served by Lonny's own mate Tibble, Mistress, and our son Dobby. Dobby is young and strong. This is why Dobby and Tibble serves Mister Potter together, Mistress, for Tibble is not strong enough to fight but Dobby is young yet. Mister Potter woke up yesterday and was very violent."
"These elves," said Lily slowly. "Can they come here? Can they bring James?"
"Dobby can come, Mistress, if only you call him. But Mister Potter must stay in his wing until so says the Dark Lord." With that, Lonny snapped her fingers and a much younger looking house elf appeared-Lily wasn't sure she'd seen an elf with fewer wrinkles, though like all elves there were creases around his ears. But he looked truly miserable.
"Are you Dobby?" asked Lily. "How is James?"
"Master is well," said Dobby timidly. "Too well. Dobby must punish himself later, for Master almost broke free."
"Why do you have to punish yourself?" she asked. She knew, or thought she knew, how the house elf structure worked. "You didn't disobey and he didn't escape."
"Some wizards," explained Lonny carefully, "like house elves to be punished if they nearly disobey, or even think of it. And the Dark Lord, he always knows. Tibble has many, many scars. Lonny has only been punished once, and she was very small," she finished with pride.
Lily nodded and wondered absently why Tibble had been punished so much. "When can I see James?" she demanded.
"Lonny was going to tell Mistress. Mistress and Mister Potter are to meet the Dark Lord for dinner tonight. The dress Mistress must wear is in the wardrobe."
Now that she knew James was all right, her mind set to worry about the situation at hand. Why had Voldemort chosen to take her and James? Severus-Snape, she corrected herself-had said something about rounding up Pure-bloods, but for what? To join him? What would happen if they didn't cooperate? She thought she knew, and nerves burned in her belly.
She had to think of a way out. She knew without asking that she wouldn't have access to her wand.
Could she pretend to go on with whatever Voldemort had planned, long enough to get out? She wasn't sure she could lie like a spy. She certainly wasn't sure how to communicate that to James.
The room had nothing she could use; she would have to plan on the fly and pray to whatever deity would claim her. She spent the next few hours getting ready, fixing her hair meticulously with the supplies she had asked of Lonny. She puller her locks into an elegant updo that looked fine with the elaborate emerald dress she found in the wardrobe, but would keep her hair out of the way in the event of catastrophe. When that was done, all she had left to do was pray.
Her feet felt like lead and every step was a struggle. Her heart pounded out a frenetic drumbeat against her rib cage and she fought to keep calm. It was with damp palms and deep breaths that she reached the elegant dining room the house elf led her to.
James entered at precisely the same moment from a door across the room; they ran toward one another, but hit a transparent barrier less than an inch apart. It tore at Lily when James pressed a hand against it, and she did the same. What she wouldn't give just to touch him now.
"Ah, my guests." Lily jumped at the sound, anxiety still keeping her edgy. She looked to her left and saw... something much less impressive than she had expected, to be perfectly honest.
The high-pitched voice matched the pale man well, but neither fit her image of what a "dark lord" should entail. His features were thin, elegant. He was handsome, but then she imagined so was the devil with all his temptations. She could have passed him on the street and not thought a thing of him.
"Sit, sit," he urged, and his voice trailed ice up her spine. Small he may be, but he exuded a kind of sinister power. She felt compelled to do as he said and took a seat; James sat across from her.
As soon as she sat, three bowls appeared on the table with a pop. She realized her stomach was rolling-with hunger as well as nerves-but she merely looked at the man with mistrust.
"Oh, I'm being rude," he crooned. "Miss Evans, Mister Potter. I am Lord Voldemort, but you may call me the Dark Lord."
"I'll stick with Voldemort, thanks," James said carelessly. "Now what do you want of us?"
"So rude," admonished the man at the head of the table smoothly. "You are my guests, and I suggest you remember that. Do eat; we wouldn't want our appetizer getting cold."
"Like hell we'd take your poison." Lily heard a voice like acid, and realized with some alarm that it was her own. His smooth voice, the voice of a romantic or a killer, got her back up more than she could explain, and fear would slow her down where anger may give her an advantage.
"Ah, Lily," sighed Voldemort. "Severus has told me much about you, but surely a few bites of soup is not too much to ask?"
"It doesn't matter a damn what he told you," she spat at him. "What matters is what you want of us. Cut to the chase."
He inclined a head. "I cannot blame you for mistrusting me." He laughed, and the sound had Lily digging nails into her palms. "After all, we barely know each other. Very well. I'd like to offer a proposition. James," he said, turning toward him. "You have a quick wit, a pure lineage, and great strength of mind and body. Lily, your... background is a blight on your resume, but you are more than adept with potions and an up-and-coming master of charms. And what is the difference between a charm and a curse? Intent, and nothing more. I believe I can make good use of your skills, and make it very much worth your while."
He paused, but the sweeping gesture made with his arms made it clear he wasn't finished. "I could offer you the world. James, how would you like to be the captain of your favorite Quidditch team? You have wealth beyond what you will ever need, but I could give you more. The respect of everyone who crosses your path."
"I'll earn the Quidditch title on my own, thanks." Lily marvelled at how even James's voice was; he never took his eyes off of hers, though he spoke to the man at the table's head. "And the respect that comes with it."
"Lily," Voldemort continued as though James had never spoken. "I could give you everlasting beauty. You could eat anything you like and never gain an ounce."
"Is that what you think I want?" barked Lily. It was almost laughable. "You think I'm so shallow?"
"No," he answered easily. "It would merely be a side benefit. To you I would offer the safety of your family."
"My family would be safe," she answered, "if not for you. Are you saying you'll kill them if I join?" Sweat beaded on the back of her neck. "Don't answer. I know. You'll kill them unless I do their bidding." It pained her to say it, but she knew pleading would do her no good here. She sent a silent prayer and apology to her family. She would die for her parents, but she couldn't live for Voldemort. She knew they would understand and vowed to protect them to her greatest capacity.
"My final offer," he answered, his voice cold now, "is to give you one another. Remember what means the most to you and know that I could give it or take it away at the slightest whim. I will give you twenty-four hours together to come to a decision." He rose from the table and they understood that they were dismissed.
The elves led them back to Lily's room; finally, when the door shut behind them, whatever spell was between them lifted and they fell into a tight embrace.
The urge to sob on James's chest had never been stronger, but Lily knew she had to be stronger still. Tears would be wasted now. "There were no doors in the hallway between my room and the dining room," she told him. "And the doors we came through are the only ones that lead to it-no exits. No windows."
"That means Apparition is possible here," said James. "But we don't have our wands. I've tried to do it anyway, and it won't work."
"We certainly can't fight our way out wandless. But damn it, I won't die here." Lily's chin jutted out with pride. For a few minutes, they simply held each other, too aware that this may be their last day.
"I have an idea," said James at length. "When they ambushed us in the alley, Snape said he had wanted to protect you. At the very least, we can get you out, but you may be able to convince him to let us both go... or at least we can steal his wand. Tibble!"
A battered-looking house elf appeared with a loud pop. Lily saw what Lonny had meant by "many scars"-the old elf seemed to have more scar tissue than skin.
"Master Potter?" asked the elf in a hoarse voice. "What can Tibble do for you?"
"Can you bring us Severus Snape?" asked James. Tibble shook his head.
"Please," Lily begged before the creature could speak. "Please, bring him to us. We need to get out." She had decided it didn't matter if Voldemort knew they were trying to escape; she imagined he knew it anyway.
"Even were it permitted, Miss Evans, it cannot be done." There was sorrow in the elf's voice. "There are powerful magics here. Mister Snape would be killed for the Dark Lord to know he had set you free. Mister Snape is young. Tibble is very sorry. Tibble would do it if it did not mean the death of young Mister Snape."
She saw something in his eyes that made her press further. "Why have you been punished so much, Tibble?" she asked quietly, crouching down to meet him at eye level. "Has no one ever been kind to you?"
Tibble was silent for a long time, by shock or fear or something else. When he spoke his voice was wistful. "Once, Miss Lily. Tibble was a young elf and had a very kind master. Master was very old and asked Tibble instead of told. Master gives Tibble choices. 'Tibble, please help me with the dishes or the cooking today.' Master was very, very kind." His eyes welled up and he cut off, crying softly.
"What happened?" asked James compassionately, crouching down beside Lily and placing a hand on Tibble's shoulder over the filthy, torn sheet he wore toga-style. Lily bit her lip at the picture of them.
The elf cried for awhile before composing himself. "Master died, sir, after he lived a good many years. Tibble was alone, for Master had no family. Tibble can't take care of Tibble, sir, Tibble needs someone to take care of. Tibble slept in doorways for three nights before Lonny found him." At this part he smiled. "Lonny is the most perfect elf, and Miss Evans is lucky to have her. Lonny brought Tibble to the Dark Lord, and the Dark Lord says he may use Tibble. Tibble joined him on sight, and very quickly regretted it, you see. Lonny has never misbehaved, and so does not know the evil here." He smacked himself across the mouth, making distressed sounds, until James restrained him by gripping his little wrists.
"Go on, Tibble." Lily said it kindly but firmly. "And call us Lily and James. No need for formality here."
"Master James and Miss Lily know the evil here," said Tibble.
James nodded. "That evil is going to kill us," he said, "if we don't find a way out. Is there anything you can tell us without getting in too much trouble? Trap doors, weaknesses?"
"No, Master James," answered Tibble at length. "But Tibble has a plan. Meet the Dark Lord tomorrow as Master James was told, and let Tibble take care of it."
Tibble was out of the room before they could respond.
Lily wasn't sure how long they had lain in bed. They hadn't slept, hadn't even chanced to bundle under the too-soft blanket; they needed their minds alert.
They didn't discuss escape or defeat, but all the normal subjects of a young couple spending the day together: Quidditch, friends, school. They weren't pretending or avoiding the issue; they knew that they were powerless for the moment, and if this were to be their last twenty-four hours together, they didn't want to waste it on futility.
Lily swirled a finger over James's palm as he recounted a story to her. He told her all about his first Animagus transformation, the sense of freedom he had found. "It's like... when I shed my human body, I shed my human doubts too. And I can see without glasses," he added with humor. "That's pretty nice too."
"Show me," said Lily. "I want to see it." Just once, Lily added in her mind.
Without a word James rolled off the bed and crossed to the center of the room. He closed his eyes, and Lily watched in fascination as his body morphed. She had seen Professor McGonagall transform into a cat, but it was different somehow to watch James grow. The stag exuded power, but not in the cold way Voldemort had.
Without a thought she crossed to him, lay a hand on his flank. He was softer than she had expected. She hugged his neck and felt the day's panic ease as affection for him swelled in. "I love you," she whispered in his ear.
Barely a second later James stood, human, and embraced her. "I love you too," he murmured. "I hate to have to make that confession under such dire circumstances. I was going to tell you at New Year's, but this works too."
She smiled against him. "If nothing else, we have this."
He tipped her chin up and leaned down for a soft kiss. "This is enough."