Chapter 2: Dumbledore's new acquisition is introduced to the Order of the Phoenix to mixed reviews. However, nobody seems too concerned an Azkaban prisoner with a life sentence will be teaching children Defense Against the Dark Arts.


II.
Freedom?
[Number 12 Grimmauld Place | August 1995]


The next morning, V. Spektor awakes on a musty velvet couch in the shuttered living room of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. She remembers this room from a social gathering she once attended with her family, back when her family did such things, like leave the house and converse with others. All those pure-bloods in a room, if someone blew the place up there'd be no more left. She remembers hiding in the attic, playing exploding snap with Lestrange. He would never leave her alone—it was almost unendurable. She hears footsteps on the stairs and incoherent mumbling in the hall. Reluctantly she ventures out of the living room and down the narrow set of stairs to the kitchen, where breakfast is being served. As soon as she enters, the entire room falls silent. She turns to leave, but stops in her tracks once Albus calls out to her.

"Good morning, Victoria. Please join us. I've saved you a seat." He gestures for her to take the empty place next to him at the long kitchen table. She cringes at the use of her mother's name. There's literally nothing in the world she wants to do less than join this lot for breakfast. But the food smells incredible, so her stomach wins.

"Who dug up that old thing?" Ron Weasley asks, turning towards Hermione and Harry, his mouth full of eggs.

"V. Spektor." Sirius Black says, overhearing him. "Honestly, why Dumbledore wants more Death Eaters in the Order is beyond me..." He's referring to Severus Snape, of course.

"Ex-Death Eater, I'm sure." Hermione says, eyes widening with her classic skepticism.

"Yeah sure—just look at her. I was on the same cell block as her in Azkaban. They say she's possessed or something. Before I got there, I heard she drove her neighbor to kill himself just by talking to him…" But before Sirius can elaborate, he catches sight of his knife, which has begun to levitate, it's blade pointing at him in a rather threatening manner. He glances over to where the subject of their conversation was sitting, and she was looking directly at him, her eyes dull and unblinking. Sirius shivers. "Don't look in her eyes. I hear that's how she gets to you." He whispers, and quickly gets up from his seat. Spektor's gaze is locked on him until he exits, and then turns her attention back to the buttered toast on her plate.

After the meal, the members of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix convene in the living room. The doors are shut to prevent the young ones from listening in, but that doesn't stop Fred and George Weasely from trying to use their Extendable Ears. They get a good ten minutes-worth of information before Severus Snape confiscates them and orders the twins to clear out.

"Now where was I..." Dumbledore paces back and forth before the group of witches and wizards, sitting around on couches and occasional chairs. Then he remembers he was discussing the Ministry of Magic's flat-out refusal to recognize that the Dark Lord has returned, that he killed that young Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory back in May, and has steadily been gathering his followers around him once more.

"They've all got their heads in the bloody ground." Growls Alastor Moody. "I'll tell ya, Dumbledore, I've had it up to here with the lot of 'em." Kingsley Shacklebolt nods in agreement. It's been a tough time at the Ministry indeed. "Anyway, I reckon Fudge isn't likely to do you any more favors for a while after what you pulled to get her outta Azkaban..." Moody glares at Spektor, who's sitting in a chair on the fringes of the group. Moody seems to be one of the only ones in the group who has any idea who Spektor is, besides Dumbledore. He didn't consider this, and makes a hasty introduction.

"Dear me, I've forgotten to introduce our newest member. Everyone, this is Victoria Spektor. She'll be joining the Order on a special assignment." Dumbledore says, gesturing to the waif lounging in a chair to his left. She stares at the floor, ignoring the group that has directed its collective attention at her.

"Oh my, what a pleasure." Sirius Black says sarcastically. Spektor looks up at him, her lips curling into a sneer.

"Come on now Sirius, it's important that we all work together—each member has an important contribution..." Molly Weasely pipes up, scolding him as though he's one of his own children.

"Yeah? And what's my contribution? This house? She's not only free, but trusted to go on a special assignment? You've got to be kidding me." Sirius rants, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "Besides, I refuse to work with Death Eaters." He snubs his nose at her and looks away.

"I'm not a Death Eater." Spektor says flatly.

"What's that mark on your arm then?" Black shouts, pointing rudely.

"Settle down, Black. You don't know what you're talking about." Spektor says, shifting in her chair.

"I don't know...what?...Are you..." He stammers, frustration building, until he just gives up, sinking back into the couch, sighing loudly.

"You weren't a Death Eater?" Dumbledore asks, casting Spektor a look of surprise. "That is the dark mark on your arm though, if I'm not mistaken..."

"Good lord, Albus – you of all people should know what the Dark Mark looks like." She rolls her eyes and pulls up the sleeve of her grubby prison tunic. On her right forearm is the image of a snake, curled about itself in an infinite loop, biting it's own tail. "Me, a Death Eater. That's a good one."

"Hm. You'll have to forgive me..." Dumbledore says, still perplexed. The rest of the room is confused as well. Maybe they had it all wrong after all.


Severus Snape corners Spektor in the hallway after the meeting as she's attempting to slip up the stairs to the attic. He opens his mouth but no words come out, choking nervously on whatever it is he is trying to impart, which he hasn't even fully figured out yet. Spektor heaves a long, suffering sigh.

"Can I…help you?" She squints at him.

"He's told me about you." Severus finally spits out. The look on her face is uninterpretable.

"What?" V fiddles with her ring.

"Caught me looking at a picture of you in his study." Severus continues cautiously. "You were standing in a moonlit garden, surrounded by all these statues...they were weeping..."

"Who are you?" She snaps, suddenly twice as hostile as she had already been.

"Severus Snape. Head of Slytherin house, Potions master..." He answers slowly, uneasily.

"And what exactly do you want, Severus Snape?" She locks her eyes on his, and he notices them for the first time—inky black pools, all pupil. He's never seen a human with eyes like that. He shudders.

"Nothing...I just..." He stammers.

"Nothing? Good. Best to want nothing. Then you'll never be disappointed." She says flatly. Sweeping around to ascend the stairs, she leaves a quite shaken-up Snape frozen in place. This is going to be more difficult than he thought.

Reaching the solace of the attic, she finds herself inside a dusty room stuffed with boxes and laced with cobwebs. Out of a trunk she pulls a black robe with deep green velvet trim. That'll do. She slips into a faded black knee-length dress and stockings that looked alright at first, but turn out to be riddled with holes. Beggars can't be choosers. Digging further she finds a cache of spare wands. All are broken except one, which she snatches up. Muttering a quick spell, she waves the wand in a circular motion around her head, and her hair shears itself off to about mid-spine, curling itself into a style she hasn't worn in nearly fifty years. She catches her reflection in a cracked mirror propped up against the wall. Her teeth, she observes, begin to elongate—growing like thorns on a rosebush—and her nose flattens. She blinks, frowns, and looks away. That's not her, she reminds herself. That's someone else.


A/N: Please read and review! I'm curious as to what you're thinking thus far, and always appreciate feedback of any kind. As this is rated M, I hope that those reading are doing so with discretion. If there is anything that you would like mentioned as a trigger warning, please let me know so I can make that happen. Otherwise, be forewarned that there will be material ranging from abuse to rape to emotional manipulation, as well as body horror, gore, etc. if you decide to continue.