Finally getting to the part that was supposed to appear some three chapters ago that got pushed back because of other subplots. I advise you not to have anything heavy near your computer as you may want to throw things at it as the chapter progresses.


Chapter 53: When I Look At You

Nott brushed past on his way out of Potions, knocking Arti's things to the floor. As Arti bent to pick them up, Nott stopped to help her. She wasn't surprised when he whispered, "Meet me in the kitchens."

Arti nodded, without looking at him. Then he stood up and walked out of the classroom. Her stomach squirmed. She hoped this wasn't about her conversation with Bulstrode.

When she arrived at the kitchens a few minutes later, Nott was talking to two of the house-elves, one she didn't recognise, but the other, she was shocked to realise, was Buttercup whose ears were practically drooping, making for a comical sight. Arti would have laughed had she not looked so miserable.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, kneeling beside Buttercup

"Master is sending me here. Mistress Selena is being angry."

Arti rolled her eyes. "With you too? Honestly."

"But I has failed to protect Master Zach!"

Arti slid from her chair and onto the floor in front of Buttercup. "That wasn't your fault. You know that."

Buttercup nodded. "Master is saying so. But–"

"See? We don't blame you. And she had better not either. But why are you here?"

"Master is sending me here because he is thinking it would be better if I is here."

"For you or for her? I don't blame him. You shouldn't have to deal with her."

Buttercup scowled at her, but Arti ignored her, turning her attenton to the other house-elf.

"This is Brilly," Nott said, gesturing from where he stood. "I freed her when I...left."

"Nice to meet you," Arti said as Brilly curtsied to her.

Arti settled herself back in her chair and turned to face Nott. "What did you want to talk about?"

"With everything that's happened, more of us want to do what I did. Of course, none of the others were in as deeply as I was. Well, maybe a couple."

"You mean more of them want to join Dumbledore?"

"Maybe not, but at least leave the Death Eaters. Or leave their families, in most cases."

Arti stared at him. "Can we trust them?'

Nott hunched forward. "Yes. They've already sworn an oath not to harm others–"

"Only while at school. They can do what they please over the summer holidays."

"They came to me. I didn't seek them."

Arti stared at him incredulously. "That makes you trust them?"

"I–I trust Carrow. And Freese joined your lot on his own."

"I suppose it's the best we can do for now. Why did you come to me?"

"Because you were the only person I could think of with the right connections. And you helped me. I didn't think you'd refuse."

"I won't. But I'm not just going to take your word for it."

"Naturally. I'll send them along." He hesitated. "Though I'm not sure where you could meet. I don't know the castle as well as I should. Or as well as you do I presume."

"I'll take care of it."

Would a Privacy Spell be enough? No, there was still risk. There weren't too many places to go that no one would find them, though there were probably hundreds of unused rooms in the castle. It wasn't as though she could bring them to Sanctuary. Then she remembered about the Room of Requirement. That would probably be best.

Arti slumped in her chair. What had she gotten herself into?

"Should I be telling Master?" Buttercup asked.

"I guess you had better. Why did he have to get involved in this?" She turned to Buttercup. "Can you tell him–" she began, but Buttercup was already gone.


Everyone had left, though Roger returned a few minutes later with Zach in his arms.

"He misses you," Roger said quietly. "You haven't seen him since..."

"Please," Lena spat. "How can he? He probably doesn't even remember me."

"Yes he does." He shifted Zach in his grasp so that he was facing her. Zach began to babble and reached out toward her. "See?"

"Why do you need me? You've been doing a wonderful job on your own."

"Not without you."

"Don't start, Roger. Just, please don't start." She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that threatened to spill.

Roger came to her, holding Zach out to her. She started to reach for him, but stopped as his face crumpled and he began to cry. Her arms fell to her side and Roger cuddled Zach to him, looking apologetic.

'It's not–"

"Take him away. Take him away."

I am Dryope to your Andraemon and this is our son Amphissus. Except that I'm trying to save myself, not him. Just like I always do.

Roger gazed at her for a moment before he turned and walked out of the room. She stood staring after them, trying to ignore the overwhelming relief to see her son disappearing down the hallway.


Arti had hardly sat down to dinner when several of the younger Slytherins started giving her furtive looks. She caught Nott's eye and and he nodded almost imperceptibly at her. It looked like she was going to have much less free time than she hoped. Thankfully, exams were still a month off, so she would have time for this.

"Hey, Moon?" a voice asked. Arti looked over to see Urquhart leaned around Vaisey. "Can I get some help with my Transfiguration homework?" he asked.

"Will tonight after dinner work?"

He nodded. "Thanks. I didn't know it would be this difficult."

"It doesn't get any easier, but you won't have to take it for very much longer if you don't want to."

"I know. I can't wait to be done with it. Oh, and can I bring a friend too?"

She smiled at him. "Of course. Just not too many. I don't think we'll get anything done if there are too many of you."

He nodded and went back to his lunch.


Roger came back a few minutes later, thankfully without Zach. Lena was still standing where he had left her.

Leave. Me. Alone.

"He wants to see you."

"I can't," she said in an anguished whisper.

"He needs you."

"Really? Because if you don't recall, he started crying when I just tried to hold him."

"That wasn't–"

"Stop it!" she cried shrilly. She stood with her fists balled, shaking. "Stop making excuses and trying to explain things! Just, stop!"

"No," he said, a rough edge to his voice. "We obviously have a few things to discuss."

"No. We. Don't," she said through clenched teeth.

She shoved him away before walking out the door. He was right behind her. He caught her around the waist pulling her to him, pressing her back to his chest. Then before she could kick him, he spun her around and her pinned against the wall.

"Yes, we do. And I'm not going to let you go until we have."

"Yes, you will." She tried to kick him, but his stance prevented her from doing more than moving her foot an inch or so.

"No, I won't."

"Let me go."

"No."

"Let me go and I'll talk."

He looked amused. "Where are your Slytherin skills at negotiating and bargaining?"

She growled at him, flexing her fingers and raking her nails against the inside of his arms. He hissed in pain but kept his stance. Realising defeat, she slumped against the wall.

He loosened his hold on her, poised to grab her if she tried to run, but she didn't. There wasn't anywhere she could go since she didn't trust herself to Apparate.

"I love you."

"You shouldn't."

"He loves you."

She flinched and looked away.

"How could he? He–"

"You're his mother."

Her face contorted in rage. "I know that! Yes, I'm his mother. I carried him for nine months and gave birth to him–"

"Then why...?"

"Because I can't...I can't bear the sight of him!"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Every time I look at him, I realise that–that..." She trailed off, taking great gulps of air.

"That what?" He brushed a few strands of her hair from her face. His touch made her cringe. He stepped back, looking startled and concerned. His gentle tone enraged her even more and she wanted to hurt him as much as she hurt. She wanted him to feel her pain, her despair.

"That if he hadn't gotten kidnapped Graham wouldn't be dead."

"Don't you think I know that?" Roger demanded. "How the hell do you think I feel? If I hadn't been so stupid – if I had realised that Graham hadn't written the note–"

"That wasn't your fault! That potion–"

"If I had realised it sooner, we could have gone after them sooner and gotten them all out of there alive!"

She looked him straight in the eye. "If I'd been quicker and hadn't let Maya put herself in the way that night then she wouldn't have been bitten and he" – she jabbed her hand in the direction of Zach's room – "wouldn't exist, and if he didn't exist he wouldn't have been kidnapped, and if he hadn't been kidnapped, Graham wouldn't be dead!"


Urquhart did indeed bring friends. Several, in fact: fifth-years Florence Jugson and Elizabeth Spungen, and fourth-years Evan Moran and Eleanor Spinks. Arti smiled proudly. She was sure there were more who hadn't come, but even this made quite a large number when taken together with the other Slytherins who had joined the DA.

Thankfully the common room was mostly empty, with all the fifth- and seventh-years except for Jugson presumably at the library and the sixth-years mysteriously absent. No doubt Nott and Greengrass had made arrangements. Arti growled to herself. Yet another thing to thank them for.

Still, they had to keep up the pretense. Arti was glad she remembered enough of fourth-year Transfiguration to be able to explain things. Jugson pretended to be engrossed in her Ancient Runes textbook, but if anyone had been watching closely, they would have noticed that she never turned a page during the hour and a half that they were there.

By the end of their session, Arti had found a time that she could talk to each of them in person and they scattered after she told them that either she or Blaise would contact them to set up a time and place.

After everyone had gone, Jugson closed her book and looked up at Arti, tears in her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I couldn't join them, knowing that they do horrible things like kidnapping and killing children and sending werewolves after them. Poor Isabella. Her brother was only five."

Arti nodded. She remembered hearing about the little Montgomery boy being bitten.

"You'd think that that would be enough to send them all to our side, but it's not. I don't want to think about what it'd take."

"Some people will always run toward what they perceive as strength and brutality won't deter them, but weakness, or again, what they perceive as a weakness will. The Order – forgive me – is more lenient on captives, so the Death Eaters see them as weak."

"But if they did come to us, we wouldn't do what Voldemort would do if he found them after they had betrayed him."

"Right, but they think you're weak for not resorting to such measures."

Arti shook her head. "That doesn't make sense."

"Who said any of it did?"

"This is a start. A horrible start, but a good one too, I think. Spread the news."

Jugson nodded. Her face was a mask of sorrow. "Thank you, all of you. You, your sister, Pritchard, Zabini. It's your courage that's giving people like us the courage to do what needs to be done. Don't ever forget that. I just wish we'd done it sooner."

She left Arti full of pride and guilt.


Roger's eyes widened in shock. He staggered back, a look of utter shock on his face. He raised a hand and Lena stiffened, but he merely grabbed the wall to steady himself.

"Do you blame him?" he asked coldly, his face a mask of rage. His eyes were like steel as he gazed down at her. She opened her mouth to answer but her voice died in her throat. All that emerged was a strangled croak. He grabbed her by the arm. She let out a cry of pain as his fingers dug into her skin, but neither the strength of his bruising grip nor his tone changed. "Well?" he asked impatiently. "Do you?"

She stood, frozen in terror. When she didn't reply, he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. Lena stiffened in his grasp. He had never frightened her before, but he did now. The tortured look on his face, the anger, grief and guilt that practically choked her, reminded her far too much of herself on that Saturday and what she had been done because of her own anger and guilt and grief.

A frenzied terror nearly overwhelmed her as her thoughts turned back to that day and she desperately tried to block them out, to regain enough control to flee, but her thoughts and emotions churned inside her, making her panic even more. She tried to take deep, even breaths, but her throat seemed stuck. She thought she saw a flicker of a smile cross his lips and she closed her eyes.

"Answer me!"

Her eyes flew open and she gasped. She had said the same thing to him just before she had… She braced herself for whatever pain would come next.

"N-no of course not!" she cried, finally find her voice, frantically shaking her head. "How could you even say such a thing?"

"What choice do I have?"

The expression on his face made her want to turn away and run, but Roger's grip didn't allow her any movement. She had never seen him like this. She was too frightened to protest or struggle.

"I don't blame him, but I–he–if he–"

"Are you saying that you regret having him?" he asked, his voice so icy that Lena half-expected to see a dementor approaching.

"No!" she cried, shaking her head frantically, choking over the word. "No. Never."

"I don't believe you," he hissed.

"I don't! I swear it! Can't you understand?" Tears flowed down her upturned face and into her hair.

"No, I can't," he said roughly, his gaze hard. He released his grip on her, shoving her backward so that she collided painfully with the wall. "I guess I'll see you when you've come to your senses then."

He started to turn away.

"Roger..." She reached out, trying to grab his sleeve but he jerked away. "Please, please don't go. Don't take him. Please."

But he didn't reply, didn't even look at her as he went into Zach's room. Lena watched in silence as he disappeared. Her heart, her lungs, everything ached.

Roger came back out and walked past as though she wasn't there, Zach nestled contentedly in his arms. Her worst fear had nearly come true when Zach had gotten kidnapped. She had been spared that, but here he was, being taken from her, alive, but she was sure she would never see him again. She crumpled to the floor as Roger left without a word or a backward glance.