7
LORD Voldemort considered himself a wizard who would do whatever means necessary in order to achieve necessary results. The initial resistance, though not overt, against his current raging war on all of Great Britain was expected, though not quite to this extreme extent.
For a fleeting moment, he felt…old. Sleepless, even, though he himself knew his appearance to be sleepless, judging by his reflection in the mirror as he glanced in distaste at the hardened skin and crumpled purple bags beneath his eyes.
His body, though the Dark Lord refused to think this much less dare admit to anyone, not even Bella, who stiffened and let out a barely audible hiss as Severus approached with the young woman in tow whom Voldemort knew to be her niece.
He almost did not recognize his own reflection in the mirror. Lord Voldemort stiffened and turned away, not wanting to look at his warped appearance any longer than necessary, and his face, hard from his pale skin to his slit-like nose, what little was left of it, met Nymphadora Tonks with critical interest, his red eyes narrowing.
He had heard stories of Bellatrix Lestrange's niece, how she had been an Order member, rumored to have been romantically involved with the werewolf, Remus John Lupin, though the boy was said to have spurned the young witch's feelings and run off, leaving the girl alone.
But stories, of course, were the gullible, and the Dark Lord was not about to ingest such stupid lies. He cocked his head to the side as the pair of them approached, hearing a tense exhale emanate beside him. The Dark Lord stifled a growl of frustration and angled his head.
Only to face that of Bella, whose head was bowed, though he could practically feel the animosity emanating off of her for her young niece in waves, and if the air in the room would have been a color, the air itself would have been scarlet, of this the Dark Lord was certain.
The woman was most unhappy of this arrangement, this little 'family reunion,' Lord Voldemort was quick to sense, though when was the witch ever happy aside from torturing people to the brink of insanity? As the Dark Lord clasped his pale, gangling fingers together and folded him in front of his middle, his black robes billowing as he walked silently, he knew he possessed neither the grace nor propensity to smile at his newest recruit and Severus, who had escorted her here.
His red eyes remained somber and quite dull as they searched Miss Tonks, and Voldemort watched as Nymphadora shirked away, lowering her gaze towards the hardwood floor beneath their boots.
The Dark Lord felt his gaze drawn to the young witch. No older than twenty-four, twenty-five at best, perhaps, she was, even the Dark Lord had to confess it, a pretty little slip of a thing. Pale, her skin cut from the finest pearls, and it was her ash brown light hair that puzzled him.
There began to prick at the dark recesses of his mind a doubt, as if he had found himself fooled by Severus, for he knew that Nymphadora Tonks was by birthright, a Lestrange, or would be, had Bella's sister Andromeda not married a filthy, disgusting Muggle-born. Light ash brown hair and gray eyes. Tonks was a young woman meant to possess hair like that of her aunt's, rich chocolate locks, and here, the pair of them stood, looking at a witch with mousey hair.
He almost sniffed in disapproval at this but fought it back. Lord Voldemort suspected, though he had a feeling he would know the truth for himself in a mere matter of moments, that the rejection of the wolf's feelings for her had spurned her to abandon Dumbledore's pathetic attempt at raising an army of his own followers.
He hoped that by allowing the induction of another of Dumbledore's Order members into his ranks, that his rule would become smoother and firmer solidified as a result when society would begin to see well-educated and more than competent witches and wizards like this young woman and Severus Snape turn from Albus.
The Dark Lord was not aware of the strong lingering loyalty for the Hogwarts Headmaster. He had yet to ferret them out in his ranks.
However, as he watched as Severus appeared in sync beside Nymphadora, his hand on the small of her back, guiding her forward towards where the Dark Lord and Bellatrix Lestrange stood to receive her. Lord Voldemort had always seen Snape as one of his most loyal and trusted followers and supporters, and as a result of this, the only man he could appoint to bring Lestrange's niece to them unharmed.
Despite the uncertainty of Bellatrix's young niece's hair color, Lord Voldemort let out a haggard sounding sigh and decided to welcome them instead of initially questioning the girl on her arrival.
There would be time enough for that, in due time, this he knew.
"Severus. Nymphadora," he went on in a smooth, languid tone. "Welcome, I trust that you managed to find your way well enough," he murmured, speaking more to his newest recruit than to Severus, gesturing his arms towards the dimly lit room. Voldemort was quick to recognize that his voice was rather crude, but the man paid it no mind.
He watched as Nymphadora Tonks practically shied away in hesitation and trepidation, nervously fidgeting with and playing with her pinkish tipped fingers to keep them warm, and he watched stoically, Bella next to his side, as the young witch lifted her chin and regarded the pair of them with a look he could only perceive as hostile.
Venom in those pale gray orbs that rivaled the finest steel of the suits of armor that guarded the Great Halls of Hogwarts, he decided.
It took the Dark Lord a half-second to realize the witch was labelling him, though he supposed he could not fault her for that at all.
Why wouldn't she? She was, after all, an Order member, risking her life by joining alongside Severus to spy within her own organization at her own bequest, seemingly, if the rumors were to be believed, what Severus had managed to communicate with him, unsatisfied with her life in the Order and of Albus Dumbledore's belief. By crossing that threshold and betraying her own kind, the girl could never go back, though he knew that in his own time, Tonks would prove her loyalty.
Though it did not stop the Dark Lord from thinking the girl would suddenly grow fangs and attempt to dig them into his neck, judging by the somewhat hostile way the woman was glaring at him.
And then, as if by witch's curse, some nonverbal magic, as her nervous gaze flitted from his inquisitive narrowed eyes to her Aunt Bellatrix's distrustful stare, her face changed, the edges of her lips crinkling upwards in a dimpled smile and she flashed a white smile.
Nymphadora Tonks gathered the skirts of her black lace dress and bent her right knee and curtsied slight. "My lord. It is an…honor to finally meet you. I hope that my services will prove most valuable and that I am given a chance to prove my worth to your cause. If you would have me, I swear to you now my fealty and service to you, my lord. In peace or war, in living or dying, from this day henceforth, until my lord releases me, or death take me, I pledge my allegiance," she murmured.
An old-fashioned gesture, and not necessarily needed, though Lord Voldemort appreciated the display of proper edict, and it lifted his sour mood, and Lord Voldemort felt himself loosen his curled fist around the handle of his wand as he reached towards her left arm.
He swore he felt Bella grimace as he himself let out a crooked smile that was more of a smirk, and the moment the young niece of Bellatrix Lestrange straightened, she froze as he reached for her arm.
"May I?" His voice was smoother than silk, and languid, and did not make another move for the witch's left arm until she nodded.
Lord Voldemort rolled up the sleeve of her dress with a surprising tenderness that even he was momentarily surprised with, and the look Bellatrix was shooting him out of the corner of her eye suggested that she was not at all pleased with the surprisingly gentle gesture. There it was, as Severus had promised. Her new Dark Mark.
He allowed the pad of his bone-white fingertip of his index finger to just barely graze over the mark, and he was rewarded for his efforts when he felt Nymphadora Tonks shy away in hesitation, a hiss of pain escaping her lips. Lord Voldemort swore he heard Bella make an odd little noise at the back of her throat that sounded like a giggling snort.
"It will hurt for a time, Miss Tonks," he said in a voice that sounded bored, and Lord Voldemort was well aware of this fact, as he lowered his hand and Tonks gingerly took her left arm and rubbed it.
Good, I hope it burns, little She-Wolf... Bella's inner thoughts were scathing as the older, dark-haired witch glowered at her young niece.
Lord Voldemort pursed his thin, wormy lips into a rigid line, as Bellatrix slowly swiveled her head to look in the Dark Lord's directions as she waited for him to speak, her brows coming together in quandary.
"I trust you will find the switch most rewarding, Miss Tonks," he began slowly and carefully, as though he were speaking to a twelve-year-old child, addressing Nymphadora Tonks and ignoring Bella for now. "I shall not forget the immense sacrifice, nor fail to reward that which is given," the Dark Lord murmured in a low, smooth voice, bringing his knuckles to rest at her front. Tonks stared at it blankly for a moment, before grasping the point. Hesitantly, she lifted his knuckles to her lips as his hand met the back of her lips, and Bella let out a hiss.
Childish. The Dark Lord found himself sneering at the young witch's aunt. Lestrange has always been childish in her 'affections' for him, and it was this thought that spurned the Dark Lord's rancor on.
"Fealty with affection. Valor with honor, disloyalty with vengeance," he growled, ignoring Bellatrix's current, fuming demeanor.
As he looked at Nymphadora Tonks, sweet and sinless, the Dark Lord strangely thought that it was most peculiar for him to see the last picture of this young witch regarding him with that curious, hopeful look, for he knew he would never see her that way again. He let out a sigh and continued.
"You, my dear, seem to have no experience in the mission that I have set forth for only the most loyal of my followers," Here, he could not resist glancing sideways at Bellatrix out of the corner of his eye, resisting the urge to smirk at the look of rage he saw.
The Dark Lord turned back around and noticed Tonks flinch, though Severus standing practically shoulder-to-shoulder next to her remained unstirred and impassive, like that of a perfect statue, almost.
When the girl finally did manage to find her voice, it was soft, timid, and meek, though sweet as the sunrise, and he found himself listening. "My lord, what then would you have me do, sir?" she asked.
"I would have you work solely alongside Severus in the meantime, given you two are ah, familiar with one another, given your equal statuses as Order members," he said, a slight mocking lilt to his voice now. "Should you perform well over the next week or two, however, your station may change, so work diligently and you'll move up faster."
Tonks could merely nod mutely in response, not at all fooled by his seemingly generous words. It did not take an intellectual genius like Professor Dumbledore to tell the Dark Lord was an impeccably organized Dark wizard and strict as well. She blinked owlishly and forced her attention and her gaze to return to that of Lord Voldemort when she heard the man's unusually quiet and somber tone speak up.
"That will do, for now, I believe, Miss Tonks. Your beloved aunt will show you to your quarters," he announced, and Tonks stiffened.
Her gaze nervously flitted to her Aunt Bellatrix, whose dark eyes were narrowed so much that they were slits, and resembled that of the Dark Lord's, her arms folded across her chest, her face contorted into a twisted and pained grimace of what Tonks knew to be hatred and envy.
Bellatrix's gaze hardened, and a muscle in her jaw twitched as she strode towards her niece and laid a firm hand that was more like a claw on top of her shoulder, giving it a firm but hard squeeze, its message clear. She did not want any tricks or deceit; Tonks knew just by looking.
"Follow me," Bellatrix snarled in a voice devoid of warmth as she proceeded to drag Nymphadora out of the room without even bothering to wait for Severus, and steered her down the stairwell and through a long, dimly lit corridor, stopping by an old wooden door that looked as though the thing had long since been infested with termites.
Tonks crinkled her nose in revulsion though made no comment on it as the door creaked open as her aunt turned the doorknob, and the pair of women entered into an otherwise rather plain-looking bedroom. Inside the room was a narrow-looking bed big enough for just one person, a bedside table with a lamp and a four-pronged candleholder and a simple chest of drawers at the foot of the bed.
There was a small window, albeit with bars on it, through which moonlight now shone through. Tonks felt her heartstrings give a painful lurch as she thought of Remus, hoping her partner had managed to find a way to go back. He did not belong in Greyback's camps. He needed to be with the rest of the Order, or else he would sink further into melancholia and misery.
"This will be your room," Bellatrix Lestrange snapped in a tone that oozed false courtesy, effectively breaking Tonks out of her thoughts of Remus Lupin, though Tonks was not fooled for a second.
She perceived the venom as animosity in her aunt's dark brown eyes that currently reminded her of a snake's slit-like pupils by the way the older witch stood in the room alongside her, glowering at Tonks.
Tonks bit down on her bottom lip as she perched herself at the edge of the bed and took in her new surroundings for the next several weeks, perhaps months, and felt a hard lump forming in her throat.
"You will find everything you need in the chest," Bella remarked, jerking her head towards the chest of draws at the foot of Tonks's new bed. There was a thick, uncomfortable pause, and Bella made no move to turn her back and leave her niece in peace. "You must surely be exhausted to have to come here at such a tiring hour," Bellatrix growled, though a sickening sense of delight caused her mood to lift as she noticed her young niece, this abomination, this blood traitor, clutching gingerly at her left arm near the branding of her Dark Mark.
Without warning the younger witch, Bellatrix closed off the gap of space in between the two witches and perched herself right alongside Tonks at the edge of her bed. "Oh, dear," she mocked, falsely claiming concern at the fresh burn marks and reddened skin around her niece's new Dark Mark. "What a pity, niece. Does it hurt?" Bellatrix reached out a hand with the intent to touch only the edges of the witch's marking.
Tonks immediately pulled her arm away, leaving Bella's hand stranded in midair. "It is all right," the witch spoke up at least, again, covering her left forearm with her right hand. "Thank you for your concern. I will take it into consideration, Aunt Bellatrix, but I am sure I will be just fine," she snapped airily, wishing her aunt would leave her alone. Though she could not help but to feel a little bit nervous. Bellatrix had tried on two separate occasions now to kill her, however, now, if she still held that urge deep within the confines of her chest, her wretched, putrid blackened heart and soul, Tonks could detect no trace of it in the older witch's dark brown eyes or on her pale, ashen features.
"Don't despair, dear, you still are a pretty little dove, a beautiful fragile ornament," Bellatrix sighed in mock concern. "If you are going to work alongside our ranks, you will have to get used to it, a filthy half-blood or not." She fell silent and watched Tonks furrow her brows.
If the girl was insulted by her insult of her blood status, the younger witch gave no indication as she slowly swiveled her head to look in Bellatrix's general direction, finally breaking the silence at last.
"Get used to what?" Her niece asked, determination laced throughout her voice, though there was no mistaking the warbling note of fear in her tone, that suggested to Bellatrix the girl was terrified.
Just the slightest inkling of fear, Bella thought. It would do.
"Being called beautiful," Bellatrix grinned, raising her brows as she promptly turned her head away, wanting nothing more than to laugh at her blood-traitor sister's little brat, but she couldn't laugh.
She could feel Nymphadora Tonks's burning stare as she glowered at her with those pale gray orbs of hers before looking away in a frustrated exhale. As she did, Bella slowly swiveled her head back around to regard her sister's daughter intently, acknowledging the black lace gown she wore that flattered a slender and petite figure.
Her light brown hair freely flowing to just past her shoulders in graceful layers and waves, and Bella felt smoldering fires of envy begin to boil her blood hotter than any dragon fire could ever flame within.
Bella did not believe the stories that her wretched niece had suddenly held a change of heart and wished to switch her allegiances.
It was even the least possibility. Bellatrix could not believe the Dark Lord would actually be falling to this alibi, Snape's word notwithstanding, but she also knew it to be true or not, she was one of them now, like or not, and the Dark Mark on her niece's arm proved it.
"Why are you here?" Bellatrix found herself asking, fixing her sister's brat with a pointed stare that, had she the ability, would have turned the younger witch to stone. "You swore fealty to the Dark Lord."
Tonks replied by favoring silence as the only apt response. Her niece was quite good at that, and for a brief moment, Bella was tempted to cut out the witch's tongue as she did not see the difference in her niece having a tongue versus not having one at all if she didn't speak.
Though, Bellatrix Lestrange was quickly proven wrong when Tonks fired back a retort. "Why do you think I am here, Aunt Bellatrix?"
Bella pursed her lips into a thin line, responding in kind the same way her niece had only moments ago by choosing to not answer the girl, and the silence between the pair of witches was practically screeching of the heavy, suffocating tension that lingered in the air.
Bellatrix forced a smile that immediately slid off her face like Stinksap when her niece asked a question of her she hadn't anticipated.
"How long have you loved him, Aunt Bellatrix? The Dark Lord?"
Bella felt her jaw drop open in anger and shock, her heart beginning to pound in uncontrollable bursts against its cage in her chest.
For a moment, as she looked towards the still-open door of her niece's new room in Lucius Malfoy's home, she swore she saw Voldemort himself standing in the doorway, looking at her with a look of smoldering, fathomless rage, telling Bella to keep the jealousy to herself or she would surely suffer the consequences at his hand later.
Bellatrix swore the front of her temples began to throb and ache, creating a dull pounding sensation at the side of her head as she looked at her niece in shock, fully about to curse her where she sat for her insolence, though she was pulled from the dark desire when her sister's brat spoken up for a second time.
"Whatever you think you have with the Dark Lord, it is not real, Aunt Bellatrix. He surely must have done the same to you the second that I walked through those gates. Not that I am proud to take your place as his top lieutenant, and I will, Bella."
My place?! Bellatrix silently seethed, grinding her teeth together in anger, forcing a small laugh, causing Tonks to turn and look at her.
"You have no idea what you're talking about, you little bitch," Bellatrix growled, whisper-hissing her words and curling her hands into a fist, the fingers of her wand hand twitching as she itched to draw it.
Tonks almost sanguinely lifted her head, where she had been pensively staring at her hands resting in her lap to challenge her aunt, glowering at Bellatrix, her pale gray orbs glistening with the hint of a knife. "But I do, Aunt Bellatrix. More than you think," she murmured darkly, and she pointedly looked away for a moment, swallowing heavily down past the lump in her throat as she tried to compose herself, not wanting to think of thoughts of Remus in front of her aunt.
She let out a tired sigh after a second and turned back to Bella.
"You think the Dark Lord will be with you forever, is that it? That he is in his own way, capable of love, but he isn't, Aunt Bellatrix. I wish that you could look at yourself in a mirror and see what I do. I used to dream that the person I would be with for the rest of my life would return my affections, but here I am, Aunt Bella, left with no other choice to me, and coming along to ruin your little fantasies about loving him and being loved back in return. It was foolish of me to believe in love. It is stupid and does not exist, Aunt Bella, and rest assured, your master does not care for you. Not in the way that you secretly hope, Aunt Bellatrix," Tonks snapped towards her aunt, hearing the very anger dripping from her words as she spat them more than spoke them, realizing perhaps a second too late, that her mind had already drifted to thoughts of Remus, whether she liked it or not.
Bellatrix was disturbed when her niece covered her left arm again, and for perhaps the first time in her entire life, she found herself at a loss for words and was saved the trouble of responding when her sister's brat spoke in a clipped and hardened voice, and the glistening moisture in the witch's gray orbs told Bella her niece was on the brink of tears.
"Go."
Bellatrix took a step backward, feel the beginnings of angry, hot tears stinging and marring her vision threatening to break from behind her lids, thinking her accursed niece did not need to repeat her request.
Even before she could, the Dark Lord's top lieutenant found herself turning on the heel of her boots and slamming the door so hard to Tonks's bedroom that she hoped it rattled in its hinges, and the sheer force of the noise caused her niece's stupid brain to rattle inside her stupid skull. Bellatrix knew she had to get out of this place before she likely erupted in her furious state.
She hoped in time, this feeling would pass, but as long as her whelp of a niece was here, it would stay. She was well aware she could hurt people in her agitated state, and though nothing would normally give her great pleasure than to assist Crouch Jr. in torturing one of their prisoners, Bella had to flee.
So, she escaped, Disapparating on the heel of her boot to their old family home, the top balcony terrace that overlooked the countryside. Bellatrix Lestrange allowed her swirling vortex of hateful thoughts towards her sister's insolent brat and the Dark Lord's new fixation on their newest recruit to consume her, relishing in the black, putrid curse words that poured from her tongue like a bitter bile.
Home was the only place that Bella felt like she could truly just…let go. Of everything. Her hatred for her niece coursed through her bloodstream as, in its own way, calmed her down from head to toe. Bella slowly felt like she was emerging from the rage and hurt she had possessed only moments ago as it dissipated, the tension in her shoulders leaving her, and Bellatrix did not deny that, for the moment at least, it felt nice. She felt calmer than she had a few minutes ago.
Bellatrix felt…free.
Feeling the beginnings of a wicked smile curve at the corners of her lips, Bella knew what she had to do to be rid of Nymphadora Tonks.
The moment her aunt had Disapparated from her bedroom, Tonks bolted upright from her perch on the mattress's edge and locked the door with a deadbolt, taking an extra precaution and waving her wand for good measure, adding a second layer of security to her room. The room instantly plunged her into a dark abyss.
As she sat back down on the edge of the bed and shakily knit her fingers together, trying to regulate her breathing, her thoughts drifted to Remus, and she wondered what her partner was doing, if the man still thought of her.
This at least, to think of him, gave her some small form of comfort. Tonks hoped that Lupin had managed to make his way back to headquarters and had not decided to be a stubborn arse and go after Fenrir Greyback on his own.
She hoped Sirius was looking out for him. The fact that though she was not by her partner's side, that Remus would be, in one way, shape or form, well looked after, was the only thing that gave her comfort, and that Tonks could be certain of.
Severus was right, however. If she held Merlin's prayer of pulling this mission off, she was going to have to work hard to prove her worth, not only to herself but to the rest of the Order as well.
"In order to get out of here, and maybe get you to see sense, Remus," whispered Tonks to herself as she collapsed on top of her bed, not even bothering to change her clothes as it was so cold and she felt, for the first time tonight, utterly exhausted.
As Tonks closed her eyes, she felt them begin to well up with tears. She knew she had to be strong.
The Dark Lord was not going to accept a weak, sniveling lieutenant, and thoughts of Remus during her missions in these upcoming weeks would not help her here, though she did not stop her mind from dreaming of the man, the night they had first met.
Tonks thought for certain, given her strange and unfamiliar surroundings and the initial stress of this evening, that she would be facing yet another sleepless night. However, she soon fell into a deep and peaceful slumber, enjoying the first tranquil sleep Tonks felt like she had in ages.
Tonight, she dreamed of Remus…
A/N: Poor Tonks! I think she's strong enough to make it through this, what do you think? The next chapter is a real treat, a flashback of sorts of their first meeting to help her get her through her first night in the Malfoy Manor, and then it switches back to Remus's POV.