I, Too, Shall Follow—Chapter Twenty-Five
(Author's note to Anonymous: Concerning your review—Amen! There are a lot of us who feel exactly the same way.)
It was mid-afternoon, not the most inconspicuous time to be breaking into the gated Restricted section of the Hogwarts library, especially since a multitude of students milled about and hunched over study materials at their tables. Glenna tried to convince her boyfriend of this glaring fact, without success. According to Severus' logic, if he purposefully approached the area, unlocked the gate and went in, the students would assume he had permission to be doing so. And, as he was a seventh year and most of them were fifth years studying for their O.W.L.s, it was unlikely they'd gather the gumption to question him.
And so, because she couldn't talk him out of it, Glenna stationed herself strategically to watch both the entrance to the library, lest a professor happen by, and the door Severus had gone through only moments ago. Aside from starting the Gryffindork Sirius Black on fire, she wasn't used to taking part in covert deeds—the Slytherin boys typically cornered the market there—but she had to admit it was exciting. Until she showed up.
Glenna rolled her eyes. Was that Evans bitch following her around, or what? It seemed every time she turned around she was bumping into the meddlesome witch. Of course, as Head Girl, Evans might take it upon herself to find out why a lowly Slytherin was here, so she opened a book and pretended to read. When she looked up, Lily had moved on out of her range of vision. She glanced over to where Severus had disappeared, silently urging him to hurry.
Desires of the Dark. Sounded like a cheesy romance novel. Unknown Calamities. If they were unknown, how did they write a book about them? Severus moved slowly along between the shelves, studying book titles up and down as he went. Grotesque Oddities of the Wizarding World. Tempted as he was, Severus moved on. Light, Dark, and In-Between. He grinned and shook his head. At last he found a small section dedicated to potions. He yanked four books off the shelf, laid them on the floor, and sat cross-legged to study them. Why hadn't he broken in here ages ago? This place was a gold mine of Dark Arts!
Severus scanned the first book's table of contents. The potion wasn't listed there, so he picked up the next and leafed through rapidly. Nope. The third time's the charm…he'd heard that somewhere, and book three confirmed it. On page seventy-two he found what he'd been searching for: Brinnan Durstig—Burning Thirst.
Brinnan durstig is known to produce not only a terrible burning sensation when drunk, but also an unquenchable thirst. Those exposed will literally drink themselves to death in order to quell the unbearable pain.
He stopped reading. He'd known, or suspected at any rate, that Lord Voldemort wouldn't request an everyday, run-of-the-mill potion. He intended it for evil purposes, big surprise there! Besides that, when Severus hadn't been able to find it in any of the potions tomes in the ordinary library or even at Malfoy Manor, it should've sent up a red flag.
Nonetheless, he'd found it and he had to make it. He pulled out a length of parchment and quill, uncapped the ink and set it on the floor, then began to painstakingly copy the ingredients and directions, while clumsily balancing a book across his knees to provide backing for the parchment. It was a long formula spanning four pages, and his quill scratched along as quickly as he could write.
"Hmmm," came an obnoxious voice behind Glenna. "Where's Snivellus?" Two boys laughed.
Glenna turned slowly, fixing a haughty stare on Sirius, who stood next to Potter. She'd recognized that ear-grating voice. "And that would concern you how, you flaming arse?"
The fire reference wasn't lost on the boys; James grinned over at a scowling Sirius. "Aren't you joined at the hip?" Sirius sneered.
"Or some other way?" James guffawed.
"How clever," Glenna responded in a bored tone, then yawned dramatically. "Go away now, you're bothering me."
"Yeah, well—" Sirius began, then stopped short at the wand poking him in the back of the neck.
Mulciber leaned in nearer to hiss in his ear, "She said you're bothering her. Move along."
Without a word the Gryffindors slid away; Mulciber's wand pointed at them until they'd covered sufficient distance. He tucked it back into his robes and bent in close to Glenna. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, Jack. They're all talk with girls, and I can handle myself."
"It's a man's responsibility to protect a woman," he said matter-of-factly. While he wanted to say 'to protect his woman', he thought it slightly inappropriate and doubted she'd appreciate it.
Glenna graced him with a tiny smile. "That's very chivalrous, Jack. What are you doing here anyway? You're not exactly a library rat."
"Neither are you—or those creeps. They were watching you and Snape. I saw them follow you in, so I came in to keep an eye on them," he explained with a shrug, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to play the spy. "I'm certain they noticed Snape go into the Restricted area, and I wouldn't put it past them to squeal on him to get him in trouble. I thought I'd warn you."
It would be like those jerks! Glenna seethed. "Thanks for telling me."
Mulciber looked as if he planned to say something else, only his mouth seemed to have got stuck in the open position as he peered over her head in the direction that Snape had gone. He gave a weak squeak, backed up, and rushed away. Glenna twisted around to see Severus striding toward her, looking none too pleased.
"Didn't you find it?" she asked, rising.
Severus didn't seem to hear her. "What was he doing talking to you? I cautioned him to stay away!"
Glenna noticed the wand clutched in his fist. More than that, the very notion that he had the idea he could control her activity peeved her immensely. "I can talk to whoever I want, Severus, and you can't stop me! And if you plan to hex every boy who speaks to me, you'll be quite busy."
"What did he want?" persisted the young man. His hawk eyes scanned around to see where Mulciber had escaped to in order to facilitate pursuit.
"Stop it!" barked Glenna. All bustling, whispering, and movement in half of the library came to an abrupt halt. Heads turned, students peeked over their books for a look at the source of the commotion. She lowered her voice to speak through clenched teeth. "We need to leave."
With that she dropped the book she'd been pretending to study and flounced out. Severus stowed his wand, glanced around at the gaping onlookers with a condescending sneer, and said, "Don't you dunderheads have work to attend to?" Then he strolled after his girlfriend, shaking his hair back from his face.
Outside, Glenna lit into him while at the same time dragging him in the direction of the dungeons. "What is your problem? Jack came over to help us, and you act like a barbarian! He said Black and Potter were watching you go into the Restricted area, which means they'll probably run to Dumbledore, but you couldn't be bothered to wait five seconds, could you? And he chased the two little cretins away when they were harassing me! I—"
"They were harassing you?" Severus interrupted. During her spiel he'd gone rapidly from angry and jealous to mildly nervous to livid. His wand had somehow found its way back into his grasp.
"It's no big deal," she answered, secretly pleased at his response. "We need to get away from the library and hide the formula—or didn't you get it?"
"I got it." He patted a front pocket of his robes. "And it is a big deal. If they pick on me, that's one thing. When they start in on you, it's war."
"Severus, you're such a gentleman warrior!" Glenna exclaimed delightedly. She rounded on him, took his cheeks between her palms, and kissed him full on the lips. He responded by wrapping his arms around her and jerking her closer until their chests melded, his eyes closing, his mouth playing along with hers.
"Not in the hallway!" Professor Slughorn ordered from out of nowhere. He came waddling up behind them. "Severus, the librarian tells me there was a report of you in the Restricted section of the library. Is this true?"
Tempted to lie but unable to refute all the witnesses, he said, "Yes, sir."
Slughorn finally caught up to them, panting from his exertion. "You know that breaks several rules: unauthorized entry, charming the lock, looking at forbidden materials—"
"Excuse me, sir, but if they're forbidden, why are they even at Hogwarts?"
"That's not my concern, Snape. I'll have to take ten points from Slytherin, and give you detention tonight."
"Yes, sir," Severus acquiesced. A few points wouldn't be noticed, and one night of detention was well worth getting the dark lord off his ass. With any luck, Slughorn would leave him to his own devices to gather ingredients he'd need to haul to his room, no doubt to the squalling protests of his roommates. "Seven o'clock?"
"Seven o'clock."
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"Happy birthday, Lucius!" Narcissa beamed as she met her husband at the front door, flung her arms around him, and kissed him deeply.
Lucius allowed himself to indulge in her sweet attentions before pulling back, cocking his head to regard her. Narcissa Black Malfoy was no airhead, she knew very well his birthday wasn't for more than a month. "What's this about, my love?" He pulled off his outer cloak and hung it on a hook near the door.
Narcissa, almost dancing with glee, took him by the hand and started to lead him away from the foyer. With a smirk he followed obediently. If she wanted some fun before supper, he wasn't going to object, although the whole birthday thing threw him. His bemusement grew when they passed right by the staircase and continued down a hallway. His feeble attempts to steer her up the stairs went unnoticed.
"Honey, where are we going?" he asked at last.
"In here."
Narcissa pulled him into…was it a closet of some sort? He vaguely recalled playing in areas like this around the mansion as a child. It was dark, cramped…oh, now he understood! She wanted to recreate the atmosphere of the Hogwarts broom closets they used to snog in, only this time she'd let him go all the way! Hopefully she'd charm her clothes into a uniform, too, for effect. Leering broadly, he threw his arms about her waist from behind and reached around to kiss her neck. She giggled and brushed him away, then closed the door.
"Begin," she commanded.
Before Lucius had time to obey, a tiny spotlight shown down on an equally tiny table situated in front of them; on the table, a diminutive figure about the height of a man's middle finger stood up and curtsied. She had long, rich blond hair and wore a full length, pale blue ruffled dress amazingly reminiscent of the one Narcissa was wearing.
"I love you, Lucius," the doll piped up.
Lucius' jaw dropped. It was speaking in Narcissa's voice! He bent down for closer inspection. The petite toy had bright blue eyes, and a lovely face, and…looked exactly like his wife.
"You're my fierce dragon," said the doll, staring into his face. "Want to play?" She winked a wee little eye at him.
Still gaping, Lucius turned to Narcissa, struggling to overcome his speechlessness. "What?" was all he got out.
"You've seen animated dolls before," Narcissa explained, a bit taken aback by his reaction. "I had this one made special, as you can probably tell. It was for your birthday, but they owled me to say it was ready today…" Her enthusiasm dimmed at the expression he projected.
"Sweetheart, it's a doll. Most men don't play with dolls," he said.
"But you said you wanted to carry me around in your pocket!" she wailed, and burst into tears. "I only—wanted—you to be—happy."
"Oh, honey." Lucius folded her in his arms, letting her weep on his shoulder. "I do want that, I'm wonderfully happy with you. And now that I understand, I love it. Honestly, I do."
He stroked her silky hair over and over. As he glanced past her at the doll under the spotlight, he actually did rather like it. It was a minute version of his perfect wife, what couldn't he love? His lips parted in a handsome smile. Yes, now he really could carry Narcissa—her image anyway—with him, could hear her speak and watch her move. Even now the toy was dancing what he thought might be a kind of ballet step.
"Don't cry, Narcissa. I was surprised, that's all, but I love the gift. Why, I can set her on my desk and listen to her and watch her whenever I want. It's the most thoughtful present I've ever received."
Narcissa raised her tear streaked face. Even with swollen red eyes and blotchy skin she was beautiful to him. "Do you mean it?"
"Absolutely." To prove his point, he scooped the squirming figure off the table. "Halt," he said, and it became motionless. He then tucked it into the front pocket of his shirt robe. Eyes twinkling, he leaned in to kiss her. "Thank you for the best birthday gift ever."
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After a long day at work, Abraxas walked into the dining room to find his son sitting alone at the table playing with a doll. He did a doubletake. Yes, it was definitely a doll. To say he was disconcerted would be an understatement. When Lucius picked up the miniature and kissed it gently on its tiny lips, he nearly choked.
"What are you doing?" he exploded, storming up to face the young man, who looked more than a little embarrassed to be caught.
"Nothing," Lucius mumbled, trying to furtively slide the figure out of sight.
His father grasped his wrist, yanked his hand up, and pointed at the doll clenched in his fist. "What is this and what in heaven's name are you doing with it?"
Because he feared struggling might damage his precious gift, Lucius made no effort to escape. He raised his eyebrows haughtily and said, "Father, the fact that you're bruising my wrist aside, you're close to harming my possession. Do you mind?"
"Lucius," the older man seethed in his I'd-better-not-have-to-ask-you-again voice.
"Narcissa gave it to me as an early birthday present, if you must know, and I like it." So there, he almost added. With a swift move of his other hand he snatched the doll safely away, set it on the table, and ordered it to perform. It walked in a circle, curtsied, and said, "I love you, Lucius."
Abraxas let go of his son's wrist as he bent down curiously in exactly the same way Lucius had to get a look at this creature speaking like Narcissa. "It's her," he said softly in an awed tone. He'd never seen an animated doll quite so perfect before.
"Yes," Lucius agreed. "Fascinating, isn't it? I'll bet it cost a small fortune."
"Ah," Abraxas murmured. So tiny, yet so realistic. That's why Lucius was kissing it! In a strange way, he understood. In fact, it made him wish he had a doll of his own wife so he could hear her voice and watch her laugh and move. He had her portraits, of course, but he couldn't hug those or kiss them. A mist clouded his eyes and he turned away. "Where is Narcissa?"
"She wanted to change before dinner." She'd also wanted to wash the tears from her face, something he didn't think his father needed to know.
"Son, I guess I can't object to this toy of yours, but I hope you don't intend to let everyone know that Lucius Malfoy plays with dolls," Abraxas stated in a tone devoid of hostility, though he truly meant it as a warning. There were always those who'd use any means to bring down a foe or a rival.
"Don't worry, Father, I won't embarrass you," the younger man grinned. Catching sight of Narcissa approaching, he stood to greet her. "You're ravishing, as always, my love."
Narcissa stretched out her hand to him and he brought it to his lips. "Abraxas, I see Lucius has been showing you the figure I had made for him. It's one of a kind."
"Like you," Lucius crooned.
"It's striking," Abraxas responded. "And Lucius is like a little boy at Christmas."
Her eyes lit up. So he really did like it! "I'm very happy to hear it."
Lucius pulled out her chair and she sat down, at precisely the same moment the doll pursed its lips and cooed, "Lucius, I'm horny."
As one, all three of them froze, faces going red as beets. Lucius grabbed the toy, silenced it, and thrust it into his pocket, staring down at his plate in mortification. Needless to say, the meal was unusually silent and uncomfortable until Lucius decided to try to lighten the mood. From there it got worse.
"Well, it's not as if Mother never said the same thing, right?" He directed a glimpse at Abraxas, who glared murderously back at him.
"Lucius, shut up!" Narcissa snapped.
"But I'm just trying to—"
His father slammed a palm on the tabletop, rattling the dishes. "Lucius, listen to your wife! For once in your life, learn when to quit."
Maybe silence was golden after all.
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Kneeling at the feet of Lord Voldemort, Severus backed up and rose, drawing a large vial from his robes. "My lord, I've brought the brinnan durstig potion."
He held it out to Voldemort's outstretched fingers. The man examined the potion from every angle, holding it up to the light and nodding to himself. He'd never actually seen it before, yet he studied it as though he were an expert. It wouldn't do to show himself less knowledgeable than a mere servant, especially when his magical abilities far exceeded Snape's.
"Master, may I ask you something?"
Voldemort inclined his head.
"May I ask what you plan to use this potion for?" said Snape.
Red eyes pierced through Severus. Immediately every memory he wished to keep secret locked itself away at the Legilimens touch, which lasted but a moment. Voldemort responded curtly, "No."
Still Severus persisted, mentally kicking himself for his damned obstinate tenacity. "Will it be used to kill people, my lord?"
"What if it is, Snape?" hissed Voldemort. "Would it please you?" Hadn't he made it clear that questions were not welcome? He raised his wand as the boy hung his head. Lessons in obedience must be taught.
"Forgive me, master. I had no right to ask."
Voldemort vacillated for another few seconds, then lowered the wand at Snape's deferential attitude. "This potion is hardly practical for murder or war, is it? How often do we offer the enemy a drink?" He laughed uproariously at his own joke, not noticing that the boy remained motionless and unmoved by his hilarity. "Considering the use for which I've reserved it, it will only exterminate those foolish enough to think they can outsmart me."
Severus permitted a small grin as he said, "Then it should kill no one, for who could presume to believe they might surpass your genius, my lord?" His black eyes looked up at the dark lord with glowing admiration.
"Just so," agreed Voldemort with his own thin, cruel-lipped smile. "I'm pleased at how quickly you fulfilled your command to brew this potion."
"Thank you, master," Severus murmured, bowing. "I also have news for you."
"Good news or bad news?"
"Perhaps both," Snape admitted evenly. He hoped he wouldn't be tortured for being the bearer of bad news, but found it highly probable. For the hundredth time he wondered if he should have dared bring it up, yet he was sure he'd made the right decision. If Voldemort ever found out he'd known and hadn't told him… "Professor Slughorn confided to me that he and a few other potions masters have been directed by the Minister of Magic to make large quantities of Veritaserum for use on suspected Death Eaters."
The way the dark lord seemed to grow physically in his sudden fury made Severus rapidly reconsider whether he'd made the prudent choice, as if he had a choice. He'd seriously hoped to make it back unscathed and uncrucio'd to Hogsmeade with the rest of the weekend excursioners.
"You're certain of this?"
"I helped brew it myself, master. It will be ready in a week."
The anticipated round of pain didn't come. Voldemort made a series of hissing sounds Snape didn't understand, evidently in parseltongue. He thought, rather subversively, that it sounded like a snake swearing.
"Master, is it possible to train us to resist the effects in the event any of us are captured?" Severus ventured.
As if remembering Snape was there, Voldemort fixed him with another cold stare with those unnerving red eyes. Gradually the coldness thawed a bit. "Bring me some of this serum, as much as you can sneak away."
"Yes, my lord." Another bow.
"You're proving yourself quite useful, Severus. You may go."
Severus bowed once more and exited. The fact it gratified him to hear that the master was pleased with his work shocked him more than a little. He didn't want to be here, he only wanted to bring a quick end to this war, and if that meant protecting Death Eaters so the purebloods won, so be it, but why take pleasure in praise from a man he feared and despised? Because it was praise, he figured at last. Like anyone else, he wanted to feel that he mattered.
Voldemort threw himself into his chair to brood. So, the Ministry was after Death Eaters, hoping to force them to deliver up secrets, and what better way than to drug them into giving each other up! It infuriated him.
Severus Snape. Only a boy, yet already showing more promise than many of the others. His intelligence and skill with potions would continue to come in handy, and the fierce anger and hatred he'd sensed whirling in the boy's head at their first meeting could so easily be manipulated toward higher goals. Spy. The word popped into his brain unbidden. Of course, Voldemort expected Lucius to rise to Governor in order to keep an eye on that pompous git Dumbledore, a plan that hadn't changed. But Snape… he was already at Hogwarts, he'd already presented things of value. When he brought the Veritaserum, Voldemort would charge him with a new task: espionage.