Chapter Three:
Professor Snape
~Went back home again
This sucks gotta pack up and leave again
Say goodbye to all my friends
Can't say when I'll be there again
It's time now to turn my back on everything
Everything...~
*Avril Lavigne's "Mobile"
"Pumpkin pastries...check! Licorice wands...check! Chocolate frogs...check! Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans...another check!"
"Gold, I don't know how you guys can eat Every Flavor Beans," Angel said, making a face. "They're SO disgusting!"
"It's an adventure!" James declared, grabbing a box and pouring some into his hand. After regarding the various candies for a moment he chose a white one and popped it into his mouth. "Snow," He commented.
"One of the better flavors," Angel nodded darkly. Grace laughed.
"Chill out, dear. Have a pumpkin pastry."
"Don't mind if I do," Angel replied, snatching on off the tray of candies.
"How much longer?" Grace asked around a licorice wand. Angel swallowed for the sheer purpose of reminding Grace of her manners before answering.
"We have..." She studied her watch intently. "Two hours, forty-six minutes, and twenty-four...three...two seconds!"
"Only two hours, forty-six minutes, and twenty-two seconds of freedom!" James cried dramatically, striking a pose. "The horror of it all!"
"Actually, it's sixteen seconds now," Angel replied matter-of-factly. James gave her a look and Grace started laughing. After dividing the snacks among themselves, they sat down for one last game of exploding snap before returning they arrived at Hogwarts and their sixth year of magical training officially began.
The last few weeks of summer had flown by after they had been officially released from being grounded...although they had been unofficially out of bondage for the last month and a half of holiday. None of them would say it, but they were all secretly looking forward to being back at school.
Grace looked around the circle, grinning. She loved it when the three of them were just sitting there as friends like this. This was the way it should be, the way it was meant to be. She knew, right then, that these two were her absolute best friends and that nothing could tear them apart. She truly happy at that moment.
It was the last time for many years that she would be happy. And years later when Grace tried to recall her carefree days at Hogwarts that game of exploding snap would come to her mind as the last time the three of them were really, truly, honestly the best of friends.
The train pulled into Hogsmeade station with an unusually loud screech. The three friends piled out of the Hogwarts Express, chattering away. Although they had known each other for sixteen years, they never seemed to run out of things to talk about. A rare talent, as Angel's mother had once remarked with a laugh.
The feast was full of laughter and fun, despite a somber speech on Dumbledore's part. The student body sang the school song with enthusiasm, with James and Stephen the last to stop because they chose to sing to a very slow version of "Theme for the Common Man". This just caused more laughter.
However, Grace stopped laughing when the Head Boy and Girl were announced. She was, of course, thrilled with the choice of Head Girl. Jasmine Rosewater was a Gryffindor with a sense of fashion almost as wild as her sense of humor, and Grace was very fond of her. However, the Head Boy was none other than Tom Flint. She flinched when they announced it, and spent several minutes brooding and shooting nasty looks at Dumbledore.
However, Grace had a great time despite of all that, as she always did at Hogwarts feasts. She and James talked animatedly as they followed Jasmine up to the Gryffindor common room. Grace's heart began to flutter. Maybe this would be the year she would tell James...the year she finally confessed that she was head over heels, and at that moment she thought that maybe, just maybe, it was possible that he liked her too.
It wasn't until they were saying goodnight that they realized Angel had disappeared.
"Um...where's Silver?" James asked, looking around the room as if he expected her to pop out from under a chair.
"I don't know," Grace realized. She had been so caught up in the emerald of James's eyes that she hadn't noticed the absence of her cousin. "She's a big girl, she can take care of herself."
"I would hope so," James teased. "Well....goodnight, Grace."
"Goodnight James."
Grace lay under the scarlet canopy of her bed in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Hope and resignation of failure battled within her, and the vision of James danced through her mind. She sighed, and pulled back the curtain a bit to see if Angel was awake. She needed advice.
Her stomach tightened. Grace could've sworn that she had heard the door open and close about an hour ago, but obviously she had imagined it. Angel's bed was still empty, and she was nowhere to be seen. After a few moments worry overcame Grace, and she slipped silently out of bed to search for her beloved cousin.
Angel wasn't in the common room, and her trunk was still untouched. Heart thudding, Grace stepped into the corridor to begin a thorough search of the castle. She had no idea where Angel could be, but she began to formulate a plan. Before Harry had given James the invisibility cloak back in fourth year, the threesome had used an abandoned classroom on the fifth floor as their headquarters. It would mean a few flights of stairs and long stretches of hallway with nowhere to hide, but she didn't know what else to do.
The castle was eerily silent. Grace couldn't remember feeling so alone in her entire life. She felt as if everyone else in the world were either in another world or maybe dead altogether, certainly a million miles from Grace. Little did she know; it was a feeling that would haunt her for years to come.
She was slowly slipping from shadow to shadow, trying to hide herself in the wide Defense corridor in the sixth floor. She stopped for a moment, and her eyes turned to a statue of Helga Hufflepuff entitled "The Loyal One." It was one of Grace's favorite statues, but that wasn't the reason she stopped that night. Some would call it coincidence. Others fate, destiny, or the will of a Higher Power. But that very moment, the statue moved, revealing the entrance to a room. Or the exit, as that was its current function. Two teenagers snuck out of the room, trying not to laugh.
Time stopped when Grace recognized their faces. The castle seemed to fall down around her as her safe, happy world cracked. Her entire life, her ideas, her convictions had just been violated, and at that moment all evil in the world was possible. She was so shocked, so hurt, that she forgot caution.
"Angel?"
Angel Malfoy and Thomas Flint spun around, guilt practically stamped on their foreheads. Angel winced when her eyes fell on her cousin. Grace had stepped into the moonlight, and she looked like a Roman goddess standing proud and furious with her wild red hair loose around her shoulders and the white robe wrapped around her, the moonlight giving her figure an eerie glow.
"Gold," Angel let go of Tom's hand and took a tentative step toward her cousin. "I can explain, I...we-"
"Don't even try, Malfoy," Grace spat, her furious golden eyes turning to Tom and meeting the cold wall of chocolate with hatred. "I see what's going on here. I'm glad to see you've found some new friends."
"That is NOT fair, Grace Weasley!" Angel cried angrily. "You've never even given him a chance!"
"I know enough about the Flints to know that they're evil bastards, Head Boy or not."
"This has NOTHING to do with him being Head Boy!" Angel shouted as Tom's eyes flashed dangerously. "Just because you're a judgmental, prejudiced-"
"At least I'm not a traitor," Grace spat. "I don't ever want to speak to you again."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"FINE!" Grace shouted at the top of her lungs. She turned and stalked back to the tower, right up to the dorm. She slammed the door, completely ignorant of the slumbering state of her three other dorm mates. Diana Wesolowski poked her head out of the curtains to give her a glare, Eve Berrystraw awoke, swore, and rolled over, muttering, and Sierra Lemonqueen mumbled something in her sleep, but Grace ignored them all, falling into her bed with hot tears of anger in her eyes.
A few minutes later she heard Angel come in and get ready for bed. For a brief moment, Grace got the urge to talk to her cousin, but she stamped it out quickly with the thought of Tom Flint's eyes.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A week later Angel was still eating every meal at Slytherin table, using Eve as a Potions partner and not talking to Grace. The entire school knew about Angel Malfoy and Tom Flint, but little did the cousins realize that the BIGGER gossip was the new found hatred between Angel and Grace. The separation of Silver and Gold, the school's mascot friendship, was enough to keep everyone from Jasmine Rosewater to Jeff Swiss, a second year Hufflepuff busy in the not-so-subtle art of gossip. James was trying to play the middleman without much success. He was almost as disgusted with Angel as Grace was.
After dinner, Angel loudly announced that she was going to the library to "study" with Tom. Grace scowled after her, and stalked off to the common room with her nose in the air. Eve, Diana, and Sierra didn't see what the big deal was about. After all, they considered Tom REALLY hot, and REALLY datable.
It was a Friday night, which technically meant Grace didn't have to do her homework since it wasn't due for two days. However, she needed the work to keep her mind off of Angel and Flint...in the library...something about the thought was fundamentally WRONG.
Eventually she gave up homework and sat back to brood. Dark thoughts passed in and out of her mind, all of them on one subject.
Voldemort had returned. Although the Ministry refused to acknowledge the attack on Lemon Lane as the Dark Lord's return, it was accepted as common knowledge throughout Europe, and terror was starting to grip the wizarding folk of Britain once again. Rumors of dark deeds passed through word of mouth, the Department of Mysteries was working harder than ever, and some people even claimed that Dumbledore was going to reinstate the Order of Phoenix.
Whether the Order of Phoenix was really going to return or not was very secret, but the return of the Circle of Death Eaters was very much a public happening. Muggle massacres rose all over England, and every student in Hogwarts knew that the sons of former Death Eaters were recruiting allies. Just two days before in Potions class Grace had overheard Blaire Zabini complaining to Damian Flint about how much the initiation hurt. Flint had snapped back, reminding Zabini that "joining the ranks" was the ultimate honor, and he didn't now how someone as stupid and clumsy with magic as Blaire had gotten in anyway.
Grace knew, she KNEW, that Tom Flint was a Death Eater. She was as certain of that as she was of her red hair. How could the oldest son of Marcus Flint NOT be a Death Eater? He was just so obviously evil. Either Angel was blind, deaf, and dumb, or...
Grace shut her eyes and shook her head. Even as mad as she was, she could never believe that Angel had turned evil. There was no way. Angel was so devoted her parents and her brother, it was impossible to imagine her turning Dark...
Of course, Uncle Draco had been a Death Eater. But so had Grace's parents. They weren't evil, though, Grace reminded herself, they were spies.
Spies. What a life of adventure they had to have lived! Grace knew very little of her parent's lives during Voldemort's second reign. Her father hated to talk about those times. But she had often daydreamed. They were out there, danger and intrigue around every corner, never knowing what to expect and secretly saving the world!
Who would save them THIS time? Mr. Potter was settled down, married, and had four children for Merlin's sake! All of the spies were settled too, seeing as Grace was the daughter of two of them. Maybe they would have to start over again, an entirely new set of spies.
And then, Grace Weasley had an idea.
What if...what if the Department of Mysteries hadn't thought of reinstating the spy program, or even better, what if they had? What if this was her opportunity, the chance of a lifetime, to help? To fight for what was right and help in the third defeat of Voldemort. Perhaps...the more Grace though about the idea, the more attached to it she became.
She wanted to become a Death Eater. A spy. A member of the Circle of the Two Faced, as her uncle had once deemed it. But...how?
Her mind began to shift through the knowledge of what little she knew about her parent's days of spying. Ron Weasley, her father, and Rayven Weasley, her mother, who had been Rayven Michaels at the time, had both been assassins, with her father as the head assassin of the Death Eaters. She shivered at the thought. Her father was a fun-loving, easygoing man, and she had never really thought of him killing anyone before.
Her uncle, Draco Malfoy, had also been a Death Eater, specializing in thievery of all sorts. There was another woman, Grace knew. Her name was Angel something, because Angel Malfoy was her namesake. Angel-the-spy had been killed by Voldemort for being caught as a traitor. Grace didn't know much about the death.
She frowned. This did nothing. There had to be something else...someone else...some missing piece of the puzzle. Hadn't there been another spy? She stared into the fire for a few moments, and an eerie smile crept across her features, the cold, plotting smile that would be the last sight of many innocents in the future. Grace remembered who the other spy had been.
Severus Snape. Who just HAPPENED to be a professor, and was probably sitting down at his desk in the dungeons grading papers at that very moment.
Even as everything was coming together in Grace's mind her good common sense and Light upbringing were battling with the idea. No, she was good, she was light, and she could NEVER support the Dark Lord, right? Even if it would save millions of lives, not to mention be exciting and heroic and...
By Saturday night, she had summoned her courage. Grace Cora Weasley, daughter of Ron and Rayven Weasley, Harry Potter's goddaughter, was nervously standing just outside the door to the Potions dungeon, wringing her hands as she went over her prepared speech over and over in her mind, preparing herself for what she was about to do.
Pulling out her Gryffindor instincts and Weasley bullheadedness, she opened the door and barged into the classroom.
"Has the concept of knocking ever occurred to you Gryffindors?" The silky voice of Snape asked icily as he eyed the lone female Gryffindor in question. Grace bit her lip.
"I'm sorry, sir." She mumbled.
"Well?" He snapped. "What do you want?"
"Professor, I wanted to ask you...I wanted to ask you for some advice," She chose her words carefully. Snape only raised an eyebrow. "About the war." She squeaked. Suddenly, all her previous courage was gone.
"War?" Snape said, as if he had never heard the war. Grace felt her infamous red-haired temper flare.
"Yeah, you know, the return of Voldemort?"'
"Oh, that war," Snape shrugged. "What about it?"
"Well..." She was stumbling again. "You know the Death Eaters are returning too, and I'm sure the Ministry needs some way to...er...monitor their activities..."
"What are you driving at, Miss Weasley?" He asked in a rather bored tone.
"I want to be a spy, like my parents were," Grace blurted.
Snape was shocked, but he didn't show it. At that point, Grace didn't know him well enough to realize that two rapid blinks meant that Severus Snape was surprised, and this occasion earned three blinks. His eyes went up and down the form of the young girl.
Slim, pretty, fair-skinned female, aged sixteen, with bright flaming red hair and deep golden eyes. Only child of two former spies, spoiled, sheltered, stubborn. Gryffindor, klutzy, innocent, loved, goddaughter of Harry Potter, enemy of Damian Flint, best friend of James Potter and Angel Malfoy. Grace Cora Weasley, standing in front of him in her newly washed Hogwarts School uniform, her scarlet and gold tie perfectly knotted around her neck, her socks the same length and her skirt spotless, her head slightly cocked in anticipation of his response. Asking him to become a Death Eater.
He was getting too old for this.
"No," Snape said after looking her up and down just once. He turned around and sat at his desk, making it quite clear that the conversation was over. Grace's eyes narrowed.
"What do you mean, no?" She demanded. He looked up from his desk.
"I said no and meant it, Weasley. There's no way you can be a Death Eater."
"Says who?" Grace snapped childishly.
"You're just...no."
"I'm going to become a Death Eater anyway, and I'll just appear at the Ministry one day with information," She said, as if this were supposed to make him change his mind.
"Won't work," Snape replied simply.
"Why not?" She replied. "Uncle Draco did it."
"This is an entirely different situation."
"How so?"
"Because..." Snape sighed. "Miss Weasley, why do you want to do this?"
Grace blinked. She hadn't been prepared for that one. Snape smiled knowingly and leaned back in his chair. He began talking again before Grace could come up with a response.
"Tell you what, Miss Weasley," He said, leaning forward again and planting his elbows on the desk, his head resting on his steepled fingers. "Why don't you write me an essay on why you want to become a Death Eater, hm? Include reasons, what you would do if you were caught, what your parents, friends and other family would think if they found out, what they would think if you were caught, and any other information you feel relevant. Put a lot of thought and time into it, and if it's decent, then MAYBE I'll consider your ridiculous idea."
"An essay?" Grace said, as if that were the stupidest thing she had ever heard (which it was). However, after a moment she shook her head and threw her hands in the air in defeat. She looked down at him, wanting nothing more than to prove all his assumptions of her wrong. "Fine!" She declared. "Essay it is! I'll have it on your desk by Friday." And with that, she turned and left the room, muttering.
Severus sighed and put his head in his hands. He had recognized that glint in Grace's eyes, she had looked eerily like her mother. He could remember the night Rayven told him she was going to the Dark Lord whether Ron thought she was ready or not. The stubborn determination had been present in her daughter's eyes that night.
He groaned. Not another one!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Friday had been an exceedingly long day. Severus Snape looked forward to the end of his classes almost as much as his incompetent students did. Honestly, could he get through just one week without someone blowing up a cauldron?
Obviously not.
With a sigh, Severus sat down at his desk after dinner and cast the waiting papers a glare that would've made any Ravenclaw wilt on the spot. However, the papers just sat expectantly. Scowling even more ferociously, he began to ruthlessly grade the fourth year essays. This girl has been sick for three weeks, she fails. Illness is no excuse for poor quality papers. This boy did pretty good, but his handwriting was sloppy. Hmm...C. This is mediocre, whose paper is it? A Slytherin? She gets an A.
Really, Snape's existence was pretty boring.
I need a break, he thought to himself. He stood and stretched. A good long dinner, that's what he needed. Maybe he'd catch some Gryffindors in a compromising position and would have the privilege to dish out a few detentions while he was at it.
Dinner was dull, as usual. His eyes wandered down to the students. He looked fondly on the Slytherins. Hardy and cunning young boys and girls that would be prepared for the world to come. Providing, of course, that they didn't fall victim to Voldemort. Not as most people feared falling victim to him, oh no. A quick death was decidedly preferable to a lifetime of fear.
How many of his students were going to turn to him for power? How many were going to make the same mistake he did and become a Death Eater?
And what about Grace Weasley? He had been pondering over the situation constantly. He hadn't received her essay yet, which was probably a good thing. That was the last thing he needed right now. The thought of what Ron would say if her found out that Snape was considering training Ron's only daughter to become a Death Eater...
Snape shuddered. No, that definitely would NOT be good.
He finished his dinner, which was by no means the best he'd ever had. Did the house elves have a hang over or something? He thought sourly. The Great Hall was unbearably hot, and he was relieved to be returning to the nice cool dungeons where his mind could properly function.
He settled himself back at his desk and his eyes turned to the papers. He found that another essay had been placed on his desk. Smiling slightly, Severus lifted a thick bulk of parchment and looked bemusedly at the title. In neat, slanting script that looked as if it belonged on pink stationary the words scrawled across the top of the parchment.
"Why I Want to Become a Death Eater"
By Grace Weasley
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Grace had never been so nervous in her entire life. Then again, she had never written an essay entitled "Why I Want to become a Death Eater" and then actually handed the damned thing in to her least favorite professor before.
Was she crazy? Well, yes, that was a given. How else could the idea even have occurred to her? She still hadn't talked to Angel, but that was more because Angel was avoiding her than anything else. Her mind had been reeling since she had picked up a quill to begin writing that essay.
Was she doing the right thing? Her mind was completely divided on this particular question, the fundamental problem of all her questions. Things like this were on the blurry line between right and wrong, and it was quite possible, she was beginning to realize, that her choice might be a mistake for everyone.
No, she mustn't think like that. Setting her chin, Grace's stubborn nature (inherited from both sides) kicked in. She'd waited for Snape to send her some kind of word for two days now, and she wasn't about to let him waste any more of her precious time. Without thinking, she stood suddenly and swept out of the Gryffindor common room and headed for the dungeons.
She didn't bother to knock. She stopped suddenly upon entering. He was in the exact same position he had been the last time she had bothered to pay attention: grading papers at his desk.
Didn't this man have any kind of life? I mean, honestly.
"One day, Miss Weasley, I must teach you to knock," Snape said, not looking up from his papers. Grace swallowed and took a few timid steps deeper into the classroom. She cleared her throat, but he didn't look up. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance.
"AHEM!" She said loudly. Snape calmly met her rather angry gaze with one dark eyebrow raised. God, Grace thought in disgust, even his EYEBROWS are greasy!
"Yes?" The greasy-eyebrowed professor inquired.
"Well?" Grace said, knowing her intentions were obvious.
"Well what?" Snape replied innocently...or at least as innocent as Snape could ever hope to sound.
"My essay!" Grace snapped.
"Oh. That."
"Yes, that," She was getting very annoyed very quickly.
"Well, I read it," Snape said, setting down his quill slowly and reaching under the papers he had been grading and pulling out a thick roll of parchment Grace recognized as her essay. She almost flinched. He kept it out in the open like that, where any prank-bound student could accidentally stumble upon it? What if it was discovered?
"You read it," Grace echoed, nodding, forcing her questions and anger down.
"Yes," He replied. His eyes traveled the parchment, as if reviewing one last time. When he looked up, his cold, dark eyes met her golden one with no mercy. "This is all wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong."
"What do you mean, 'wrong?'" Grace demanded angrily, her cheeks turning bright red from anger and embarrassment.
"Wrong attitude, Weasley," Snape sneered. "You're trying to play the hero here, and you are going to nobly sacrifice yourself for a worthy cause."
"Just because you couldn't be noble to save your life-" Grace started, but bit her tongue as she realized what she had just said. Snape smiled in a way that she didn't like at all.
"That's right, Miss Weasley," He said. "I'm not stupid enough to be noble. It's not a failing you find often in Slytherins."
"My Uncle Draco was noble," Grace argued, lifting her chin proudly. "He was in Slytherin."
"One of my choice pupils," Severus agreed. "Draco didn't go into spying to play hero, he would've been killed either way. It was common sense with a pinch of morality."
"And I suppose that's why YOU were a spy," Grace asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She wouldn't have been surprised if he had given her several detentions on the spot, but she was too angry to hold her temper in check. The man was deliberately provoking her!
"Yes," Snape replied, never skipping a beat. "That's exactly why I became a spy."
"I...I don't understand-"
"Of course you don't," Snape snarled. "You're a spoiled, sheltered little girl, Grace Weasley. Draco and I were both sons of Dark men, both raised to become Death Eaters. When we realized we were making a mistake, spying offered the only way to redeem ourselves. And furthermore, we-"
"My father was raised to be an auror," Grace interrupted, and Severus stopped talking as Grace formed her argument. "My parents, both of them, came from Light families, just like me. You trained my father, didn't you?"
"That was different," Snape said quietly.
"How?" Grace demanded fiercely, taking a few bold steps forward. "Because Voldemort was powerful when my parents joined him? Huh? Don't you ever wonder what would've happened if they had joined at the very beginning, before he had the chance to gain power?"
She had him there. Snape had often wondered.
"That's what I want to do, professor, I want to stop the Dark Lord before he gets started. You have to understand that," Grace whispered. Snape met her eyes for the second time that night.
Snape fully intended to refuse. Ron would raise hell if anything happened to his precious daughter. Grace's life would become a world of lies and half-truths, always making up excuses and drifting from her friends. She would be miserable and wonder whatever possessed her to do something so stupid and...
And it was out of his hands. She was ultimately going to rule her own destiny, and if she was going to go through with this he was going to at least make sure she had the proper training beforehand.
"Alright, Miss Weasley. I'll CONSIDER going through with this," He held up a hand to silence the statement he could see quivering on her lips. "But first, I need you to do me a favor."
"Anything," Grace sighed, sounding relieved. Snape smiled for a moment, that same cold smile Grace wasn't particularly fond of, then picked up his quill, filled it was ink, and marked a mistake on a student's paper with a flourish before finally explaining.
"I need a cat skull, Miss Weasley," He finally said, then continued grading papers as if there was nothing unusual in that request.
"WHAT!?" Grace exclaimed. "What do you mean, a cat skull?"
"I need you to kill a cat, then bring me the head," Snape said slowly, as if explaining to a rather slow first year. "Cleaned, of course."
"That's cruelty!"
"I suppose you're right," He sighed dramatically. His gaze bored into hers, and Grace shuddered. "I take it back, Miss Weasley. I do not need a cat skull." She sighed with relief. "I need a burnt cat skull. And I want the creature killed and burned WITHOUT magic."
For a moment she could only stare in open-mouthed shock that he could possibly have just asked her to...She squared her shoulders defiantly. She would prove she wasn't as prissy as he thought her. "Fine then, professor. A burnt cat skull it is." With that she turned on heel and had almost reached the door when Snape's voice interrupted her.
"Oh, and Miss Weasley?"
"Yes, professor?"
"I need you to stop feuding with your cousin," He said. "It will be much easier if you and Miss Malfoy are on speaking terms."
Grace nodded, then turned and swept out of the room with all the pride she could muster. She let out a sigh of relief once she was completely out of the dungeons. Honestly, the nerve!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Angel frowned at the parchment. The symbols were becoming blurred, and in her sleep-deprived mind the runes were becoming one unceasing line of nonsense.
Shaking her head to force herself awake, Angel checked her chart and continued with her Ancient Runes homework. She really wished Tom were there. Aside from all the obvious reasons, he was REALLY good at Ancient Runes.
"I told you to drop that stupid class," A familiar voice came from behind her. She dropped her quill, hardly able to believe her ears. She turned in her seat to see her cousin standing just behind her.
"G...Gr...Grace," She stammered.
"It's good to know you haven't forgotten my name," Grace commented, dropping into the chair she used to sit in every night with her eyebrows raised. Angel realized she must've sounded incredibly stupid.
"I would never forget your name," She snapped defensively. Grace merely raised an eyebrow. Without asking, she plopped into the nearest chair. Angel felt a strange sense of relief welling inside of her. That had traditionally been Grace's chair while they did their homework. She was, Angel knew, making a forgiving gesture by sitting without being asked. Angel grinned jokingly at her cousin and continued, "How could I forget? Grace! The opposite of your true self: klutz!"
Both girls laughed loudly at this. It had always been a joke between them of how klutzy Grace was, and how could her parents have ever named her Grace? At the sound of their laughter, the majority of the common room turned with wide eyes and stared. Silver and Gold...laughing together? A feeling that a great weight had been lifted swept the room, which Grace and Angel felt more than anyone else for obvious reasons.
"All joking aside," Grace said seriously. "Angel, I'm not going to lie to you. I don't like Tom Flint. But your life is your life, and I just want you to be happy."
"Oh Gold!" Angel felt her eyes mist. She couldn't believe her cousin had just said that. The two girls hugged.
"But I don't want to hear about the details," Grace said, making a face that Angel couldn't help but giggle at. "You and Flint just...ergh."
They were interrupted by the unmistakable rumble of the return of the Quidditch team. Four of their players were boys, three of them seventh years who always made a point of being as loud as possible when the reentered the common room, rowdy as only teenaged boys can be. The girls followed later, already cleaned and changed unlike the sweaty, dirty boys. They were rowdy and loud, if not as much.
James was the last to come in, as he almost always was. His eyes traveled the room, and landed almost immediately at the table he had sat at to do his homework every night for the last six years. When he first saw Angel and Grace sitting there, he didn't think anything of it. His attention had already shifted before he remembered that Grace and Angel weren't talking with each other, and his gaze snapped back to them, jogging across the room to the table in ill-concealed shock.
"Well..." He said, looking from one grinning face to the next. "It's about time!"
"Oh shut up!" Grace said, summoning a pillow from the sofa and throwing it at him. He caught it and threw it back at her. They all had a good laugh. James sat down and pulled out his books. It was finally beginning to seem like the good old days.
"I've got to go pick up a few books in the library," Grace said out of the blue. She stood up and swept out without further explanation. James looked up, startled, and saw his confusion reflected in Angel's silver eyes.
"Why do I have the feeling she doesn't need a book?" He asked.
Grace, meanwhile, was locked in a broom closet. She had to congratulate herself, she had never lied so well. She was relieved to be back on speaking terms with Angel, even if every word had been false. Well, not all...Grace really DID want her cousin to be happy...with anyone but...HIM!
Sighing, she pulled out the pillow she and James had thrown back and forth. Well, she thought grimly, maybe once she was a Death Eater she could drop this ridiculous crush on her best friend.
She waved her wand and managed to transfigure the pillow into a cat. True, the cat bright scarlet and gold, but Snape wouldn't be seeing it's fur. She whispered a silencing charm and pulled out a knife. She was going to do whatever it took to follow through with her plans, and if it was a cat skull Snape wanted, it was a cat skull he was going to get.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Severus Snape was sitting in the exact same position his students always imagined him in. Hunched over his desk, shoulder length ebony and silver-streaked hair nearly hiding his face as he scowled. However, today his scowl was not directed at a stack of potentially failing fourth-year Hufflepuff essays, but a monotonous looking tome entitled "Black Potions of the Tudor Dynasty." He was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Enter," He said, more in surprise than anything else.
"Oh. My. God." Snape drawled, sounding bored. "You've learned to knock. It's a miracle."
Grace said nothing. She sauntered forward, both hands behind her back. Snape only raised an eyebrow to show he wasn't impressed. Grace stopped in front of his desk, gave him a smirk worthy of a Slytherin and placed the burnt cat skull on his desk on top of Black Potions of the Tudor Dynasty with a flourish. Snape blinked twice.
Grace may have looked confident, but she was really uncertain about what Snape would do. She suddenly had a vision of Snape in elaborate Elizabethan costume, picking up the skull and looking into its eyes and crying "To be or not to be: that is the question!"
Or not.
"Say something!" Grace exclaimed, trying to get the idea of Snape as a Shakespearian actor out of her head.
"Something," Snape replied.
"ARGH!" Grace threw her hands in the air in frustration. "I just handed you a burnt cat skull and you have NOTHING to say?!"
"Did you kill it with a knife?" Snape asked. Grace rolled her eyes.
"How else did you expect me to do it?"
"What were you thinking?" He asked.
"That the whole thing was disgusting and you were sick," She snapped in reply.
"Nothing for the cat?"
"I transfigured it from a pillow," Grace rolled her eyes. "I mean, come on."
"Hm," Snape looked thoughtful. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps she DID have what it took....
"I bet you think you're tough shit?" He continued coolly. Grace started, she'd never heard him swear before.
"I...I..." She stuttered
"Exactly," He snapped. "Grace's cheeks reddened in anger. She hadn't even said anything.
"Come with me, Miss Weasley," Snape said suddenly, standing and sweeping to his office. Grace had little choice but to follow. She had been in his office before when she, Angel and James had been busted for one prank on the Slytherins of another, but never before had Grace entered the office in ordinary circumstances.
Not that the current circumstances could be considered normal...
Grace's mind was snapped to the present when Snape produced (seemingly form nowhere) a cage full of mice.
"What, am I supposed to perform horrific scientific experiments on them?" Grace asked, rolling her eyes.
"In a way," Snape replied, totally missing the sarcasm. "To be a Death Eater you need to know how to use the Unforgivables. You knew that of course."
"Of course," Grace gulped. In actuality the thought had never come into light. It had been there, of course, the knowledge that this excursion would require Black magic, but it had all seemed like an adventure, like a great, if somewhat twisted game. Now, she was beginning to wonder what she had gotten herself into.
"Go ahead," Snape said, seating himself comfortably behind the desk. It was then that Grace realized he had moved one mouse into a separate container. "And do try not to miss the bin. It will contain the curse so we don't feel its effects. As much as I hate my next class, I would prefer to be alive to teach it.."
"Aren't there....alarms or something?" She was practically stuttering.
"Not in my office," Snape replied with a smirk. "Certain potions require Dark magic, Miss Weasley. You would know that if you paid attention in my class."
"I knew that," Grace sulked. "I just-"
"Stop stalling, Miss Weasley," He snapped. "Imperious will do fine, thank you."
Grace mumbled some rather rude words under her breath as she pulled out her wand. Gathering her concentration she stared down at the fidgety mouse. Brow furrowed, she waved her wand and called in a commanding voice, "Imperio!"
Nothing happened.
Cheeks flaring, Grace unwillingly met her professor's infuriating smirk. "Try it again," He instructed. "Try Cruciatus this time."
"Crucio!" She cried. The mouse remained untouched and unharmed. Grace let out a wordless sort of growl in frustration.
"None of that now," Snape said with infuriating calm. Grace glared.
"I expect you want me to try the killing curse?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Of course," Grace started at his words. She met his cold black stare. His countenance revealed nothing.
"You..." She stuttered. "You're not...you're not serious, are you?"
"I never joke, Miss Weasley. I am completely serious."
Grace's eyes returned to the mouse. How could he expect her to just pick up her wand and kill it?
She hadn't handled the cat as coolly as she had told Snape and this...this was just so...cold-blooded. Her eyes flickered to Snape, who was studying her intently. Determined not to show her underlying confused emotions she raised her wand, surprised to see her hand was steady. She aimed carefully at the mouse.
"Avada Kedavra."
A burst of green light shot out of her wand with the force of a shotgun. It bounded toward the tiny creature. Grace's eyes widened as the mouse fell. Dead.
Silence.
"I...I..." Grace was staring at the dead creature with unblinking eyes.
"Your father-" Grace's head snapped up when she heard Snape speak. The smirk was gone and his voice was somewhat hoarse. He swallowed and started again. "Your father did the same thing. He performed Avada Kedavra successfully the first time he tried."
Grace felt shivers run up her back. For a moment she thought her knees were going to give out. She forced herself to show nothing. She refused to look weak in front of Snape.
"Well," He sighed after a few moments of awkward silence. "It appears I'm forced to through with your ridiculous plan. Come, you'll need to talk with Dumbledore."
"Now?!" Grace exclaimed incredulously.
"Do you have a better suggestion?" Snape raised an eyebrow. "That's what I thought." He continued when she didn't reply. A wave of his wand rid their presence of the mice, a great relief to Grace. She didn't like mice anyway, but this put an entirely new take on that.
"Whatever you say," She replied. Once out of the dungeons Snape began walking so fast Grace nearly had to jog to catch up with him. He scowled so furiously at every student they encountered that they all assumed Grace was in for some kind of hideous punishment. She got several piteous glances. Grace had to hand it to him, Snape was an accomplished actor. Just not of the Shakespearian type. Or so she hoped anyway.
"Ben and Jerry's," Snape snapped at the gargoyle signaling the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Grace followed her professor up the staircase, her stomach twisting itself into knots. She winced inwardly as Snape knocked. There was no turning back now.
"Ah," The headmaster said as he opened the door. "Sever. Miss Weasley." He nodded as he acknowledged them and Grace got the eerie feeling he had been expecting them. "Do come in."
They did as he asked, of course. Snape swept in as if he owned the office. Grace followed more slowly, looking around the office appreciatively...and stalling. She wasn't ashamed to admit it: The very thought of Dumbledore's reaction to her decision to become a death Eater terrified her. Would he expel her on the spot? Would he-
"Sit down, Miss Weasley. You seem distracted," Said Dumbledore kindly. "Now what is all this about?"
"Headmaster, I am here to discuss a very important matter with you concerning Miss Weasley." It was then that Grace noticed Snape wasn't sitting; he was pacing.
"Indeed?" Dumbledore replied, on bushy, silver eyebrow raised as if to say 'obviously.' "Severus, I insist that you stop pacing and be blunt. Tell me what the problem is, it cannot be as bad as you two are making it out to be.
"Miss Weasley..." Snape stopped and ran a hand through his hair. "She has decided to become a spy, Headmaster. A Death Eater."
Silence. Even the portraits had stopped snoring and were wide-awake, waiting for Dumbledore to react. Grace's darted across the room and her breathing quickened as the silence in the room seemed to press in around her. She waited for him to say something...ANYTHING! Anything would be better than this heavy, oppressive silence drowning her.
"This...this is a very big decision, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said slowly, carefully choosing his words.
"We have no choice," Snape said.
"You don't?" Grace asked, confused. Snape rolled his eyes and turned back to the Headmaster.
"She used the killing curse on the first try. Her father-"
"I know all about her family, Severus," Dumbledore interrupted. He was staring at Grace in a way she really didn't like. His blue eyes seemed to see right through her exterior face and into her very soul. She fought the urge to squirm. He looked away so suddenly she felt as if someone had just lifted a weight from her shoulders.
"It is really not my place to say anything," Dumbledore said. "You are the expert, Severus, you do not answer to me as far as this is concerned. Take her to Mr. Croaker."
"You mean...you don't have a problem with it?" Grace asked incredulously, speaking for the first time. Dumbledore looked back at her with a faint smile.
"Miss Weasley if you are anything like your father what I say will not have any effect whatsoever on your decision. If you feel this is what you have to do, then do it. I will not punish you for doing what is right."
"Thank you," Grace whispered. She looked at Snape for instructions.
"Go to bed," He said, rolling his eyes. "I'll set up an appointment with Croaker."
"How will I know when it is?" Grace asked.
"Trust me, you'll know."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I REALLY should have done this last night," James moaned.
"That's your own stupid fault," Grace laughed. "Not doing homework for Snape is just asking for it!"
"Hurry up!" Angel whined at Grace, the only one still eating. "I want to look something up before class!"
The three friends had a ritual which had been abandoned during the fight between Grace and Angel but was now back in effect. The three of them went down to breakfast at exactly seven AM. Class started at 8:15. They ate breakfast then spent the remaining time in the Library, usually finishing homework assignments or studying for quizzes.
Grace slurped the rest of her eggs and the three of them went together. The entire time James scribbled away at his homework and Angel flipped through one reference book or another, Grace just gazed off into space. Her mind was whirling, thinking and planning. She was going to meet the famous William Croaker sometime in the near future and she had absolutely no idea what she was going to say.
"Oh shit!" Angel exclaimed, snapping Grace out of her reverie.
"What?!" Grace cried.
"We're going to be late!"
They moved with an almost unnatural speed, all three of them with a steady flow of cursing under their breath. They ran through the halls, practically running over some of the younger (and still slightly lost) students.
James was the first to skid to a halt in the Potions classroom just as the bell sound, followed immediately by Angel. Snape looked up, and the first person he saw was Grace.
"Detention for your tardiness, Miss Weasley!" He barked.
For a moment, Grace was going to protest. After all, James and Angel had been just as late! But then she remembered what her professor had said about her knowing when she was supposed to meet Croaker. This was an excuse for her to leave the common room and...well, actually leave the school entirely but no one would know about that....
"But professor Snape!" James cried indignantly. "You can single her out, we-"
"Silence!" Snape roared, and silence there was, except for the not-so-quiet snickering of the Slytherins. "Ten points from Gryffindor for speaking without permission."
"Don't worry about it," Grace hissed, sliding into her seat between James and Angel.
"But he-" James started
"I said don't worry about it!" Grace snapped, then began to take notes, leaving James little choice but to do the same.
Grace went through the rest of the day in a mixture of guilty excitement and terror. What would she do? What would she say? What would HE say?
She got a letter at dinner calling for her to meet Snape in the dungeons at 8:00 for her detention. She left the common room fifteen minutes early and knocked on the door to the dungeons.
"You're finally getting the hang of this knocking thing aren't you?" Snape asked as he opened the door. Grace rolled her eyes. The man was impossible!
"Well?" He said. "What are you just standing there for?" He gestured her into the classroom and in turn into his office. A fire was blazing the in the grate. Snape pointed at the floo powder. "Just follow my example," He commanded, taking a pinch of the powder. He threw it in, stepped into the suddenly green flames, and shouted "Croaker's Place!" In a swirl of emerald he was gone.
Grace was well acquainted with the floo network of course. She emulated her professor and felt the world swirling around her. She came to an abrupt halt, and climbed out of the fire grate dusting soot off of her uniform. She looked up and saw Snape standing next to a tall nearly bald man with keen eyes, spectacles, and a few tufts of gray hair: William Croaker, age 57.
Grace stood up and gulped. She brushed the soot from her skirt nervously and met Croaker's dark blue eyes. He looked her up and down once and then turned to Severus before he spoke.
"Hell no."
A/N: Well, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I know you've been waiting for an eternity! ^_^ Sorry about that...I could reel off a list of excuses ten miles long, but it's pointless. Late it late *sigh*
Please stick around for chapter four!! See, I promised this story would get darker. Trust me, it's going to be as bad, if not worse, than NTB in this area...I hope...
Next chapter we get into Death Eater training, oh boy! And also, for all you people who prefer the dark, evil type we meet Damian Flint on a deeper level. I'm working as fast as I can! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and don't forget to leave a review ^_~
Professor Snape
~Went back home again
This sucks gotta pack up and leave again
Say goodbye to all my friends
Can't say when I'll be there again
It's time now to turn my back on everything
Everything...~
*Avril Lavigne's "Mobile"
"Pumpkin pastries...check! Licorice wands...check! Chocolate frogs...check! Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans...another check!"
"Gold, I don't know how you guys can eat Every Flavor Beans," Angel said, making a face. "They're SO disgusting!"
"It's an adventure!" James declared, grabbing a box and pouring some into his hand. After regarding the various candies for a moment he chose a white one and popped it into his mouth. "Snow," He commented.
"One of the better flavors," Angel nodded darkly. Grace laughed.
"Chill out, dear. Have a pumpkin pastry."
"Don't mind if I do," Angel replied, snatching on off the tray of candies.
"How much longer?" Grace asked around a licorice wand. Angel swallowed for the sheer purpose of reminding Grace of her manners before answering.
"We have..." She studied her watch intently. "Two hours, forty-six minutes, and twenty-four...three...two seconds!"
"Only two hours, forty-six minutes, and twenty-two seconds of freedom!" James cried dramatically, striking a pose. "The horror of it all!"
"Actually, it's sixteen seconds now," Angel replied matter-of-factly. James gave her a look and Grace started laughing. After dividing the snacks among themselves, they sat down for one last game of exploding snap before returning they arrived at Hogwarts and their sixth year of magical training officially began.
The last few weeks of summer had flown by after they had been officially released from being grounded...although they had been unofficially out of bondage for the last month and a half of holiday. None of them would say it, but they were all secretly looking forward to being back at school.
Grace looked around the circle, grinning. She loved it when the three of them were just sitting there as friends like this. This was the way it should be, the way it was meant to be. She knew, right then, that these two were her absolute best friends and that nothing could tear them apart. She truly happy at that moment.
It was the last time for many years that she would be happy. And years later when Grace tried to recall her carefree days at Hogwarts that game of exploding snap would come to her mind as the last time the three of them were really, truly, honestly the best of friends.
The train pulled into Hogsmeade station with an unusually loud screech. The three friends piled out of the Hogwarts Express, chattering away. Although they had known each other for sixteen years, they never seemed to run out of things to talk about. A rare talent, as Angel's mother had once remarked with a laugh.
The feast was full of laughter and fun, despite a somber speech on Dumbledore's part. The student body sang the school song with enthusiasm, with James and Stephen the last to stop because they chose to sing to a very slow version of "Theme for the Common Man". This just caused more laughter.
However, Grace stopped laughing when the Head Boy and Girl were announced. She was, of course, thrilled with the choice of Head Girl. Jasmine Rosewater was a Gryffindor with a sense of fashion almost as wild as her sense of humor, and Grace was very fond of her. However, the Head Boy was none other than Tom Flint. She flinched when they announced it, and spent several minutes brooding and shooting nasty looks at Dumbledore.
However, Grace had a great time despite of all that, as she always did at Hogwarts feasts. She and James talked animatedly as they followed Jasmine up to the Gryffindor common room. Grace's heart began to flutter. Maybe this would be the year she would tell James...the year she finally confessed that she was head over heels, and at that moment she thought that maybe, just maybe, it was possible that he liked her too.
It wasn't until they were saying goodnight that they realized Angel had disappeared.
"Um...where's Silver?" James asked, looking around the room as if he expected her to pop out from under a chair.
"I don't know," Grace realized. She had been so caught up in the emerald of James's eyes that she hadn't noticed the absence of her cousin. "She's a big girl, she can take care of herself."
"I would hope so," James teased. "Well....goodnight, Grace."
"Goodnight James."
Grace lay under the scarlet canopy of her bed in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Hope and resignation of failure battled within her, and the vision of James danced through her mind. She sighed, and pulled back the curtain a bit to see if Angel was awake. She needed advice.
Her stomach tightened. Grace could've sworn that she had heard the door open and close about an hour ago, but obviously she had imagined it. Angel's bed was still empty, and she was nowhere to be seen. After a few moments worry overcame Grace, and she slipped silently out of bed to search for her beloved cousin.
Angel wasn't in the common room, and her trunk was still untouched. Heart thudding, Grace stepped into the corridor to begin a thorough search of the castle. She had no idea where Angel could be, but she began to formulate a plan. Before Harry had given James the invisibility cloak back in fourth year, the threesome had used an abandoned classroom on the fifth floor as their headquarters. It would mean a few flights of stairs and long stretches of hallway with nowhere to hide, but she didn't know what else to do.
The castle was eerily silent. Grace couldn't remember feeling so alone in her entire life. She felt as if everyone else in the world were either in another world or maybe dead altogether, certainly a million miles from Grace. Little did she know; it was a feeling that would haunt her for years to come.
She was slowly slipping from shadow to shadow, trying to hide herself in the wide Defense corridor in the sixth floor. She stopped for a moment, and her eyes turned to a statue of Helga Hufflepuff entitled "The Loyal One." It was one of Grace's favorite statues, but that wasn't the reason she stopped that night. Some would call it coincidence. Others fate, destiny, or the will of a Higher Power. But that very moment, the statue moved, revealing the entrance to a room. Or the exit, as that was its current function. Two teenagers snuck out of the room, trying not to laugh.
Time stopped when Grace recognized their faces. The castle seemed to fall down around her as her safe, happy world cracked. Her entire life, her ideas, her convictions had just been violated, and at that moment all evil in the world was possible. She was so shocked, so hurt, that she forgot caution.
"Angel?"
Angel Malfoy and Thomas Flint spun around, guilt practically stamped on their foreheads. Angel winced when her eyes fell on her cousin. Grace had stepped into the moonlight, and she looked like a Roman goddess standing proud and furious with her wild red hair loose around her shoulders and the white robe wrapped around her, the moonlight giving her figure an eerie glow.
"Gold," Angel let go of Tom's hand and took a tentative step toward her cousin. "I can explain, I...we-"
"Don't even try, Malfoy," Grace spat, her furious golden eyes turning to Tom and meeting the cold wall of chocolate with hatred. "I see what's going on here. I'm glad to see you've found some new friends."
"That is NOT fair, Grace Weasley!" Angel cried angrily. "You've never even given him a chance!"
"I know enough about the Flints to know that they're evil bastards, Head Boy or not."
"This has NOTHING to do with him being Head Boy!" Angel shouted as Tom's eyes flashed dangerously. "Just because you're a judgmental, prejudiced-"
"At least I'm not a traitor," Grace spat. "I don't ever want to speak to you again."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"FINE!" Grace shouted at the top of her lungs. She turned and stalked back to the tower, right up to the dorm. She slammed the door, completely ignorant of the slumbering state of her three other dorm mates. Diana Wesolowski poked her head out of the curtains to give her a glare, Eve Berrystraw awoke, swore, and rolled over, muttering, and Sierra Lemonqueen mumbled something in her sleep, but Grace ignored them all, falling into her bed with hot tears of anger in her eyes.
A few minutes later she heard Angel come in and get ready for bed. For a brief moment, Grace got the urge to talk to her cousin, but she stamped it out quickly with the thought of Tom Flint's eyes.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A week later Angel was still eating every meal at Slytherin table, using Eve as a Potions partner and not talking to Grace. The entire school knew about Angel Malfoy and Tom Flint, but little did the cousins realize that the BIGGER gossip was the new found hatred between Angel and Grace. The separation of Silver and Gold, the school's mascot friendship, was enough to keep everyone from Jasmine Rosewater to Jeff Swiss, a second year Hufflepuff busy in the not-so-subtle art of gossip. James was trying to play the middleman without much success. He was almost as disgusted with Angel as Grace was.
After dinner, Angel loudly announced that she was going to the library to "study" with Tom. Grace scowled after her, and stalked off to the common room with her nose in the air. Eve, Diana, and Sierra didn't see what the big deal was about. After all, they considered Tom REALLY hot, and REALLY datable.
It was a Friday night, which technically meant Grace didn't have to do her homework since it wasn't due for two days. However, she needed the work to keep her mind off of Angel and Flint...in the library...something about the thought was fundamentally WRONG.
Eventually she gave up homework and sat back to brood. Dark thoughts passed in and out of her mind, all of them on one subject.
Voldemort had returned. Although the Ministry refused to acknowledge the attack on Lemon Lane as the Dark Lord's return, it was accepted as common knowledge throughout Europe, and terror was starting to grip the wizarding folk of Britain once again. Rumors of dark deeds passed through word of mouth, the Department of Mysteries was working harder than ever, and some people even claimed that Dumbledore was going to reinstate the Order of Phoenix.
Whether the Order of Phoenix was really going to return or not was very secret, but the return of the Circle of Death Eaters was very much a public happening. Muggle massacres rose all over England, and every student in Hogwarts knew that the sons of former Death Eaters were recruiting allies. Just two days before in Potions class Grace had overheard Blaire Zabini complaining to Damian Flint about how much the initiation hurt. Flint had snapped back, reminding Zabini that "joining the ranks" was the ultimate honor, and he didn't now how someone as stupid and clumsy with magic as Blaire had gotten in anyway.
Grace knew, she KNEW, that Tom Flint was a Death Eater. She was as certain of that as she was of her red hair. How could the oldest son of Marcus Flint NOT be a Death Eater? He was just so obviously evil. Either Angel was blind, deaf, and dumb, or...
Grace shut her eyes and shook her head. Even as mad as she was, she could never believe that Angel had turned evil. There was no way. Angel was so devoted her parents and her brother, it was impossible to imagine her turning Dark...
Of course, Uncle Draco had been a Death Eater. But so had Grace's parents. They weren't evil, though, Grace reminded herself, they were spies.
Spies. What a life of adventure they had to have lived! Grace knew very little of her parent's lives during Voldemort's second reign. Her father hated to talk about those times. But she had often daydreamed. They were out there, danger and intrigue around every corner, never knowing what to expect and secretly saving the world!
Who would save them THIS time? Mr. Potter was settled down, married, and had four children for Merlin's sake! All of the spies were settled too, seeing as Grace was the daughter of two of them. Maybe they would have to start over again, an entirely new set of spies.
And then, Grace Weasley had an idea.
What if...what if the Department of Mysteries hadn't thought of reinstating the spy program, or even better, what if they had? What if this was her opportunity, the chance of a lifetime, to help? To fight for what was right and help in the third defeat of Voldemort. Perhaps...the more Grace though about the idea, the more attached to it she became.
She wanted to become a Death Eater. A spy. A member of the Circle of the Two Faced, as her uncle had once deemed it. But...how?
Her mind began to shift through the knowledge of what little she knew about her parent's days of spying. Ron Weasley, her father, and Rayven Weasley, her mother, who had been Rayven Michaels at the time, had both been assassins, with her father as the head assassin of the Death Eaters. She shivered at the thought. Her father was a fun-loving, easygoing man, and she had never really thought of him killing anyone before.
Her uncle, Draco Malfoy, had also been a Death Eater, specializing in thievery of all sorts. There was another woman, Grace knew. Her name was Angel something, because Angel Malfoy was her namesake. Angel-the-spy had been killed by Voldemort for being caught as a traitor. Grace didn't know much about the death.
She frowned. This did nothing. There had to be something else...someone else...some missing piece of the puzzle. Hadn't there been another spy? She stared into the fire for a few moments, and an eerie smile crept across her features, the cold, plotting smile that would be the last sight of many innocents in the future. Grace remembered who the other spy had been.
Severus Snape. Who just HAPPENED to be a professor, and was probably sitting down at his desk in the dungeons grading papers at that very moment.
Even as everything was coming together in Grace's mind her good common sense and Light upbringing were battling with the idea. No, she was good, she was light, and she could NEVER support the Dark Lord, right? Even if it would save millions of lives, not to mention be exciting and heroic and...
By Saturday night, she had summoned her courage. Grace Cora Weasley, daughter of Ron and Rayven Weasley, Harry Potter's goddaughter, was nervously standing just outside the door to the Potions dungeon, wringing her hands as she went over her prepared speech over and over in her mind, preparing herself for what she was about to do.
Pulling out her Gryffindor instincts and Weasley bullheadedness, she opened the door and barged into the classroom.
"Has the concept of knocking ever occurred to you Gryffindors?" The silky voice of Snape asked icily as he eyed the lone female Gryffindor in question. Grace bit her lip.
"I'm sorry, sir." She mumbled.
"Well?" He snapped. "What do you want?"
"Professor, I wanted to ask you...I wanted to ask you for some advice," She chose her words carefully. Snape only raised an eyebrow. "About the war." She squeaked. Suddenly, all her previous courage was gone.
"War?" Snape said, as if he had never heard the war. Grace felt her infamous red-haired temper flare.
"Yeah, you know, the return of Voldemort?"'
"Oh, that war," Snape shrugged. "What about it?"
"Well..." She was stumbling again. "You know the Death Eaters are returning too, and I'm sure the Ministry needs some way to...er...monitor their activities..."
"What are you driving at, Miss Weasley?" He asked in a rather bored tone.
"I want to be a spy, like my parents were," Grace blurted.
Snape was shocked, but he didn't show it. At that point, Grace didn't know him well enough to realize that two rapid blinks meant that Severus Snape was surprised, and this occasion earned three blinks. His eyes went up and down the form of the young girl.
Slim, pretty, fair-skinned female, aged sixteen, with bright flaming red hair and deep golden eyes. Only child of two former spies, spoiled, sheltered, stubborn. Gryffindor, klutzy, innocent, loved, goddaughter of Harry Potter, enemy of Damian Flint, best friend of James Potter and Angel Malfoy. Grace Cora Weasley, standing in front of him in her newly washed Hogwarts School uniform, her scarlet and gold tie perfectly knotted around her neck, her socks the same length and her skirt spotless, her head slightly cocked in anticipation of his response. Asking him to become a Death Eater.
He was getting too old for this.
"No," Snape said after looking her up and down just once. He turned around and sat at his desk, making it quite clear that the conversation was over. Grace's eyes narrowed.
"What do you mean, no?" She demanded. He looked up from his desk.
"I said no and meant it, Weasley. There's no way you can be a Death Eater."
"Says who?" Grace snapped childishly.
"You're just...no."
"I'm going to become a Death Eater anyway, and I'll just appear at the Ministry one day with information," She said, as if this were supposed to make him change his mind.
"Won't work," Snape replied simply.
"Why not?" She replied. "Uncle Draco did it."
"This is an entirely different situation."
"How so?"
"Because..." Snape sighed. "Miss Weasley, why do you want to do this?"
Grace blinked. She hadn't been prepared for that one. Snape smiled knowingly and leaned back in his chair. He began talking again before Grace could come up with a response.
"Tell you what, Miss Weasley," He said, leaning forward again and planting his elbows on the desk, his head resting on his steepled fingers. "Why don't you write me an essay on why you want to become a Death Eater, hm? Include reasons, what you would do if you were caught, what your parents, friends and other family would think if they found out, what they would think if you were caught, and any other information you feel relevant. Put a lot of thought and time into it, and if it's decent, then MAYBE I'll consider your ridiculous idea."
"An essay?" Grace said, as if that were the stupidest thing she had ever heard (which it was). However, after a moment she shook her head and threw her hands in the air in defeat. She looked down at him, wanting nothing more than to prove all his assumptions of her wrong. "Fine!" She declared. "Essay it is! I'll have it on your desk by Friday." And with that, she turned and left the room, muttering.
Severus sighed and put his head in his hands. He had recognized that glint in Grace's eyes, she had looked eerily like her mother. He could remember the night Rayven told him she was going to the Dark Lord whether Ron thought she was ready or not. The stubborn determination had been present in her daughter's eyes that night.
He groaned. Not another one!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Friday had been an exceedingly long day. Severus Snape looked forward to the end of his classes almost as much as his incompetent students did. Honestly, could he get through just one week without someone blowing up a cauldron?
Obviously not.
With a sigh, Severus sat down at his desk after dinner and cast the waiting papers a glare that would've made any Ravenclaw wilt on the spot. However, the papers just sat expectantly. Scowling even more ferociously, he began to ruthlessly grade the fourth year essays. This girl has been sick for three weeks, she fails. Illness is no excuse for poor quality papers. This boy did pretty good, but his handwriting was sloppy. Hmm...C. This is mediocre, whose paper is it? A Slytherin? She gets an A.
Really, Snape's existence was pretty boring.
I need a break, he thought to himself. He stood and stretched. A good long dinner, that's what he needed. Maybe he'd catch some Gryffindors in a compromising position and would have the privilege to dish out a few detentions while he was at it.
Dinner was dull, as usual. His eyes wandered down to the students. He looked fondly on the Slytherins. Hardy and cunning young boys and girls that would be prepared for the world to come. Providing, of course, that they didn't fall victim to Voldemort. Not as most people feared falling victim to him, oh no. A quick death was decidedly preferable to a lifetime of fear.
How many of his students were going to turn to him for power? How many were going to make the same mistake he did and become a Death Eater?
And what about Grace Weasley? He had been pondering over the situation constantly. He hadn't received her essay yet, which was probably a good thing. That was the last thing he needed right now. The thought of what Ron would say if her found out that Snape was considering training Ron's only daughter to become a Death Eater...
Snape shuddered. No, that definitely would NOT be good.
He finished his dinner, which was by no means the best he'd ever had. Did the house elves have a hang over or something? He thought sourly. The Great Hall was unbearably hot, and he was relieved to be returning to the nice cool dungeons where his mind could properly function.
He settled himself back at his desk and his eyes turned to the papers. He found that another essay had been placed on his desk. Smiling slightly, Severus lifted a thick bulk of parchment and looked bemusedly at the title. In neat, slanting script that looked as if it belonged on pink stationary the words scrawled across the top of the parchment.
"Why I Want to Become a Death Eater"
By Grace Weasley
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Grace had never been so nervous in her entire life. Then again, she had never written an essay entitled "Why I Want to become a Death Eater" and then actually handed the damned thing in to her least favorite professor before.
Was she crazy? Well, yes, that was a given. How else could the idea even have occurred to her? She still hadn't talked to Angel, but that was more because Angel was avoiding her than anything else. Her mind had been reeling since she had picked up a quill to begin writing that essay.
Was she doing the right thing? Her mind was completely divided on this particular question, the fundamental problem of all her questions. Things like this were on the blurry line between right and wrong, and it was quite possible, she was beginning to realize, that her choice might be a mistake for everyone.
No, she mustn't think like that. Setting her chin, Grace's stubborn nature (inherited from both sides) kicked in. She'd waited for Snape to send her some kind of word for two days now, and she wasn't about to let him waste any more of her precious time. Without thinking, she stood suddenly and swept out of the Gryffindor common room and headed for the dungeons.
She didn't bother to knock. She stopped suddenly upon entering. He was in the exact same position he had been the last time she had bothered to pay attention: grading papers at his desk.
Didn't this man have any kind of life? I mean, honestly.
"One day, Miss Weasley, I must teach you to knock," Snape said, not looking up from his papers. Grace swallowed and took a few timid steps deeper into the classroom. She cleared her throat, but he didn't look up. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance.
"AHEM!" She said loudly. Snape calmly met her rather angry gaze with one dark eyebrow raised. God, Grace thought in disgust, even his EYEBROWS are greasy!
"Yes?" The greasy-eyebrowed professor inquired.
"Well?" Grace said, knowing her intentions were obvious.
"Well what?" Snape replied innocently...or at least as innocent as Snape could ever hope to sound.
"My essay!" Grace snapped.
"Oh. That."
"Yes, that," She was getting very annoyed very quickly.
"Well, I read it," Snape said, setting down his quill slowly and reaching under the papers he had been grading and pulling out a thick roll of parchment Grace recognized as her essay. She almost flinched. He kept it out in the open like that, where any prank-bound student could accidentally stumble upon it? What if it was discovered?
"You read it," Grace echoed, nodding, forcing her questions and anger down.
"Yes," He replied. His eyes traveled the parchment, as if reviewing one last time. When he looked up, his cold, dark eyes met her golden one with no mercy. "This is all wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong."
"What do you mean, 'wrong?'" Grace demanded angrily, her cheeks turning bright red from anger and embarrassment.
"Wrong attitude, Weasley," Snape sneered. "You're trying to play the hero here, and you are going to nobly sacrifice yourself for a worthy cause."
"Just because you couldn't be noble to save your life-" Grace started, but bit her tongue as she realized what she had just said. Snape smiled in a way that she didn't like at all.
"That's right, Miss Weasley," He said. "I'm not stupid enough to be noble. It's not a failing you find often in Slytherins."
"My Uncle Draco was noble," Grace argued, lifting her chin proudly. "He was in Slytherin."
"One of my choice pupils," Severus agreed. "Draco didn't go into spying to play hero, he would've been killed either way. It was common sense with a pinch of morality."
"And I suppose that's why YOU were a spy," Grace asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She wouldn't have been surprised if he had given her several detentions on the spot, but she was too angry to hold her temper in check. The man was deliberately provoking her!
"Yes," Snape replied, never skipping a beat. "That's exactly why I became a spy."
"I...I don't understand-"
"Of course you don't," Snape snarled. "You're a spoiled, sheltered little girl, Grace Weasley. Draco and I were both sons of Dark men, both raised to become Death Eaters. When we realized we were making a mistake, spying offered the only way to redeem ourselves. And furthermore, we-"
"My father was raised to be an auror," Grace interrupted, and Severus stopped talking as Grace formed her argument. "My parents, both of them, came from Light families, just like me. You trained my father, didn't you?"
"That was different," Snape said quietly.
"How?" Grace demanded fiercely, taking a few bold steps forward. "Because Voldemort was powerful when my parents joined him? Huh? Don't you ever wonder what would've happened if they had joined at the very beginning, before he had the chance to gain power?"
She had him there. Snape had often wondered.
"That's what I want to do, professor, I want to stop the Dark Lord before he gets started. You have to understand that," Grace whispered. Snape met her eyes for the second time that night.
Snape fully intended to refuse. Ron would raise hell if anything happened to his precious daughter. Grace's life would become a world of lies and half-truths, always making up excuses and drifting from her friends. She would be miserable and wonder whatever possessed her to do something so stupid and...
And it was out of his hands. She was ultimately going to rule her own destiny, and if she was going to go through with this he was going to at least make sure she had the proper training beforehand.
"Alright, Miss Weasley. I'll CONSIDER going through with this," He held up a hand to silence the statement he could see quivering on her lips. "But first, I need you to do me a favor."
"Anything," Grace sighed, sounding relieved. Snape smiled for a moment, that same cold smile Grace wasn't particularly fond of, then picked up his quill, filled it was ink, and marked a mistake on a student's paper with a flourish before finally explaining.
"I need a cat skull, Miss Weasley," He finally said, then continued grading papers as if there was nothing unusual in that request.
"WHAT!?" Grace exclaimed. "What do you mean, a cat skull?"
"I need you to kill a cat, then bring me the head," Snape said slowly, as if explaining to a rather slow first year. "Cleaned, of course."
"That's cruelty!"
"I suppose you're right," He sighed dramatically. His gaze bored into hers, and Grace shuddered. "I take it back, Miss Weasley. I do not need a cat skull." She sighed with relief. "I need a burnt cat skull. And I want the creature killed and burned WITHOUT magic."
For a moment she could only stare in open-mouthed shock that he could possibly have just asked her to...She squared her shoulders defiantly. She would prove she wasn't as prissy as he thought her. "Fine then, professor. A burnt cat skull it is." With that she turned on heel and had almost reached the door when Snape's voice interrupted her.
"Oh, and Miss Weasley?"
"Yes, professor?"
"I need you to stop feuding with your cousin," He said. "It will be much easier if you and Miss Malfoy are on speaking terms."
Grace nodded, then turned and swept out of the room with all the pride she could muster. She let out a sigh of relief once she was completely out of the dungeons. Honestly, the nerve!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Angel frowned at the parchment. The symbols were becoming blurred, and in her sleep-deprived mind the runes were becoming one unceasing line of nonsense.
Shaking her head to force herself awake, Angel checked her chart and continued with her Ancient Runes homework. She really wished Tom were there. Aside from all the obvious reasons, he was REALLY good at Ancient Runes.
"I told you to drop that stupid class," A familiar voice came from behind her. She dropped her quill, hardly able to believe her ears. She turned in her seat to see her cousin standing just behind her.
"G...Gr...Grace," She stammered.
"It's good to know you haven't forgotten my name," Grace commented, dropping into the chair she used to sit in every night with her eyebrows raised. Angel realized she must've sounded incredibly stupid.
"I would never forget your name," She snapped defensively. Grace merely raised an eyebrow. Without asking, she plopped into the nearest chair. Angel felt a strange sense of relief welling inside of her. That had traditionally been Grace's chair while they did their homework. She was, Angel knew, making a forgiving gesture by sitting without being asked. Angel grinned jokingly at her cousin and continued, "How could I forget? Grace! The opposite of your true self: klutz!"
Both girls laughed loudly at this. It had always been a joke between them of how klutzy Grace was, and how could her parents have ever named her Grace? At the sound of their laughter, the majority of the common room turned with wide eyes and stared. Silver and Gold...laughing together? A feeling that a great weight had been lifted swept the room, which Grace and Angel felt more than anyone else for obvious reasons.
"All joking aside," Grace said seriously. "Angel, I'm not going to lie to you. I don't like Tom Flint. But your life is your life, and I just want you to be happy."
"Oh Gold!" Angel felt her eyes mist. She couldn't believe her cousin had just said that. The two girls hugged.
"But I don't want to hear about the details," Grace said, making a face that Angel couldn't help but giggle at. "You and Flint just...ergh."
They were interrupted by the unmistakable rumble of the return of the Quidditch team. Four of their players were boys, three of them seventh years who always made a point of being as loud as possible when the reentered the common room, rowdy as only teenaged boys can be. The girls followed later, already cleaned and changed unlike the sweaty, dirty boys. They were rowdy and loud, if not as much.
James was the last to come in, as he almost always was. His eyes traveled the room, and landed almost immediately at the table he had sat at to do his homework every night for the last six years. When he first saw Angel and Grace sitting there, he didn't think anything of it. His attention had already shifted before he remembered that Grace and Angel weren't talking with each other, and his gaze snapped back to them, jogging across the room to the table in ill-concealed shock.
"Well..." He said, looking from one grinning face to the next. "It's about time!"
"Oh shut up!" Grace said, summoning a pillow from the sofa and throwing it at him. He caught it and threw it back at her. They all had a good laugh. James sat down and pulled out his books. It was finally beginning to seem like the good old days.
"I've got to go pick up a few books in the library," Grace said out of the blue. She stood up and swept out without further explanation. James looked up, startled, and saw his confusion reflected in Angel's silver eyes.
"Why do I have the feeling she doesn't need a book?" He asked.
Grace, meanwhile, was locked in a broom closet. She had to congratulate herself, she had never lied so well. She was relieved to be back on speaking terms with Angel, even if every word had been false. Well, not all...Grace really DID want her cousin to be happy...with anyone but...HIM!
Sighing, she pulled out the pillow she and James had thrown back and forth. Well, she thought grimly, maybe once she was a Death Eater she could drop this ridiculous crush on her best friend.
She waved her wand and managed to transfigure the pillow into a cat. True, the cat bright scarlet and gold, but Snape wouldn't be seeing it's fur. She whispered a silencing charm and pulled out a knife. She was going to do whatever it took to follow through with her plans, and if it was a cat skull Snape wanted, it was a cat skull he was going to get.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Severus Snape was sitting in the exact same position his students always imagined him in. Hunched over his desk, shoulder length ebony and silver-streaked hair nearly hiding his face as he scowled. However, today his scowl was not directed at a stack of potentially failing fourth-year Hufflepuff essays, but a monotonous looking tome entitled "Black Potions of the Tudor Dynasty." He was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Enter," He said, more in surprise than anything else.
"Oh. My. God." Snape drawled, sounding bored. "You've learned to knock. It's a miracle."
Grace said nothing. She sauntered forward, both hands behind her back. Snape only raised an eyebrow to show he wasn't impressed. Grace stopped in front of his desk, gave him a smirk worthy of a Slytherin and placed the burnt cat skull on his desk on top of Black Potions of the Tudor Dynasty with a flourish. Snape blinked twice.
Grace may have looked confident, but she was really uncertain about what Snape would do. She suddenly had a vision of Snape in elaborate Elizabethan costume, picking up the skull and looking into its eyes and crying "To be or not to be: that is the question!"
Or not.
"Say something!" Grace exclaimed, trying to get the idea of Snape as a Shakespearian actor out of her head.
"Something," Snape replied.
"ARGH!" Grace threw her hands in the air in frustration. "I just handed you a burnt cat skull and you have NOTHING to say?!"
"Did you kill it with a knife?" Snape asked. Grace rolled her eyes.
"How else did you expect me to do it?"
"What were you thinking?" He asked.
"That the whole thing was disgusting and you were sick," She snapped in reply.
"Nothing for the cat?"
"I transfigured it from a pillow," Grace rolled her eyes. "I mean, come on."
"Hm," Snape looked thoughtful. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps she DID have what it took....
"I bet you think you're tough shit?" He continued coolly. Grace started, she'd never heard him swear before.
"I...I..." She stuttered
"Exactly," He snapped. "Grace's cheeks reddened in anger. She hadn't even said anything.
"Come with me, Miss Weasley," Snape said suddenly, standing and sweeping to his office. Grace had little choice but to follow. She had been in his office before when she, Angel and James had been busted for one prank on the Slytherins of another, but never before had Grace entered the office in ordinary circumstances.
Not that the current circumstances could be considered normal...
Grace's mind was snapped to the present when Snape produced (seemingly form nowhere) a cage full of mice.
"What, am I supposed to perform horrific scientific experiments on them?" Grace asked, rolling her eyes.
"In a way," Snape replied, totally missing the sarcasm. "To be a Death Eater you need to know how to use the Unforgivables. You knew that of course."
"Of course," Grace gulped. In actuality the thought had never come into light. It had been there, of course, the knowledge that this excursion would require Black magic, but it had all seemed like an adventure, like a great, if somewhat twisted game. Now, she was beginning to wonder what she had gotten herself into.
"Go ahead," Snape said, seating himself comfortably behind the desk. It was then that Grace realized he had moved one mouse into a separate container. "And do try not to miss the bin. It will contain the curse so we don't feel its effects. As much as I hate my next class, I would prefer to be alive to teach it.."
"Aren't there....alarms or something?" She was practically stuttering.
"Not in my office," Snape replied with a smirk. "Certain potions require Dark magic, Miss Weasley. You would know that if you paid attention in my class."
"I knew that," Grace sulked. "I just-"
"Stop stalling, Miss Weasley," He snapped. "Imperious will do fine, thank you."
Grace mumbled some rather rude words under her breath as she pulled out her wand. Gathering her concentration she stared down at the fidgety mouse. Brow furrowed, she waved her wand and called in a commanding voice, "Imperio!"
Nothing happened.
Cheeks flaring, Grace unwillingly met her professor's infuriating smirk. "Try it again," He instructed. "Try Cruciatus this time."
"Crucio!" She cried. The mouse remained untouched and unharmed. Grace let out a wordless sort of growl in frustration.
"None of that now," Snape said with infuriating calm. Grace glared.
"I expect you want me to try the killing curse?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Of course," Grace started at his words. She met his cold black stare. His countenance revealed nothing.
"You..." She stuttered. "You're not...you're not serious, are you?"
"I never joke, Miss Weasley. I am completely serious."
Grace's eyes returned to the mouse. How could he expect her to just pick up her wand and kill it?
She hadn't handled the cat as coolly as she had told Snape and this...this was just so...cold-blooded. Her eyes flickered to Snape, who was studying her intently. Determined not to show her underlying confused emotions she raised her wand, surprised to see her hand was steady. She aimed carefully at the mouse.
"Avada Kedavra."
A burst of green light shot out of her wand with the force of a shotgun. It bounded toward the tiny creature. Grace's eyes widened as the mouse fell. Dead.
Silence.
"I...I..." Grace was staring at the dead creature with unblinking eyes.
"Your father-" Grace's head snapped up when she heard Snape speak. The smirk was gone and his voice was somewhat hoarse. He swallowed and started again. "Your father did the same thing. He performed Avada Kedavra successfully the first time he tried."
Grace felt shivers run up her back. For a moment she thought her knees were going to give out. She forced herself to show nothing. She refused to look weak in front of Snape.
"Well," He sighed after a few moments of awkward silence. "It appears I'm forced to through with your ridiculous plan. Come, you'll need to talk with Dumbledore."
"Now?!" Grace exclaimed incredulously.
"Do you have a better suggestion?" Snape raised an eyebrow. "That's what I thought." He continued when she didn't reply. A wave of his wand rid their presence of the mice, a great relief to Grace. She didn't like mice anyway, but this put an entirely new take on that.
"Whatever you say," She replied. Once out of the dungeons Snape began walking so fast Grace nearly had to jog to catch up with him. He scowled so furiously at every student they encountered that they all assumed Grace was in for some kind of hideous punishment. She got several piteous glances. Grace had to hand it to him, Snape was an accomplished actor. Just not of the Shakespearian type. Or so she hoped anyway.
"Ben and Jerry's," Snape snapped at the gargoyle signaling the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Grace followed her professor up the staircase, her stomach twisting itself into knots. She winced inwardly as Snape knocked. There was no turning back now.
"Ah," The headmaster said as he opened the door. "Sever. Miss Weasley." He nodded as he acknowledged them and Grace got the eerie feeling he had been expecting them. "Do come in."
They did as he asked, of course. Snape swept in as if he owned the office. Grace followed more slowly, looking around the office appreciatively...and stalling. She wasn't ashamed to admit it: The very thought of Dumbledore's reaction to her decision to become a death Eater terrified her. Would he expel her on the spot? Would he-
"Sit down, Miss Weasley. You seem distracted," Said Dumbledore kindly. "Now what is all this about?"
"Headmaster, I am here to discuss a very important matter with you concerning Miss Weasley." It was then that Grace noticed Snape wasn't sitting; he was pacing.
"Indeed?" Dumbledore replied, on bushy, silver eyebrow raised as if to say 'obviously.' "Severus, I insist that you stop pacing and be blunt. Tell me what the problem is, it cannot be as bad as you two are making it out to be.
"Miss Weasley..." Snape stopped and ran a hand through his hair. "She has decided to become a spy, Headmaster. A Death Eater."
Silence. Even the portraits had stopped snoring and were wide-awake, waiting for Dumbledore to react. Grace's darted across the room and her breathing quickened as the silence in the room seemed to press in around her. She waited for him to say something...ANYTHING! Anything would be better than this heavy, oppressive silence drowning her.
"This...this is a very big decision, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said slowly, carefully choosing his words.
"We have no choice," Snape said.
"You don't?" Grace asked, confused. Snape rolled his eyes and turned back to the Headmaster.
"She used the killing curse on the first try. Her father-"
"I know all about her family, Severus," Dumbledore interrupted. He was staring at Grace in a way she really didn't like. His blue eyes seemed to see right through her exterior face and into her very soul. She fought the urge to squirm. He looked away so suddenly she felt as if someone had just lifted a weight from her shoulders.
"It is really not my place to say anything," Dumbledore said. "You are the expert, Severus, you do not answer to me as far as this is concerned. Take her to Mr. Croaker."
"You mean...you don't have a problem with it?" Grace asked incredulously, speaking for the first time. Dumbledore looked back at her with a faint smile.
"Miss Weasley if you are anything like your father what I say will not have any effect whatsoever on your decision. If you feel this is what you have to do, then do it. I will not punish you for doing what is right."
"Thank you," Grace whispered. She looked at Snape for instructions.
"Go to bed," He said, rolling his eyes. "I'll set up an appointment with Croaker."
"How will I know when it is?" Grace asked.
"Trust me, you'll know."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I REALLY should have done this last night," James moaned.
"That's your own stupid fault," Grace laughed. "Not doing homework for Snape is just asking for it!"
"Hurry up!" Angel whined at Grace, the only one still eating. "I want to look something up before class!"
The three friends had a ritual which had been abandoned during the fight between Grace and Angel but was now back in effect. The three of them went down to breakfast at exactly seven AM. Class started at 8:15. They ate breakfast then spent the remaining time in the Library, usually finishing homework assignments or studying for quizzes.
Grace slurped the rest of her eggs and the three of them went together. The entire time James scribbled away at his homework and Angel flipped through one reference book or another, Grace just gazed off into space. Her mind was whirling, thinking and planning. She was going to meet the famous William Croaker sometime in the near future and she had absolutely no idea what she was going to say.
"Oh shit!" Angel exclaimed, snapping Grace out of her reverie.
"What?!" Grace cried.
"We're going to be late!"
They moved with an almost unnatural speed, all three of them with a steady flow of cursing under their breath. They ran through the halls, practically running over some of the younger (and still slightly lost) students.
James was the first to skid to a halt in the Potions classroom just as the bell sound, followed immediately by Angel. Snape looked up, and the first person he saw was Grace.
"Detention for your tardiness, Miss Weasley!" He barked.
For a moment, Grace was going to protest. After all, James and Angel had been just as late! But then she remembered what her professor had said about her knowing when she was supposed to meet Croaker. This was an excuse for her to leave the common room and...well, actually leave the school entirely but no one would know about that....
"But professor Snape!" James cried indignantly. "You can single her out, we-"
"Silence!" Snape roared, and silence there was, except for the not-so-quiet snickering of the Slytherins. "Ten points from Gryffindor for speaking without permission."
"Don't worry about it," Grace hissed, sliding into her seat between James and Angel.
"But he-" James started
"I said don't worry about it!" Grace snapped, then began to take notes, leaving James little choice but to do the same.
Grace went through the rest of the day in a mixture of guilty excitement and terror. What would she do? What would she say? What would HE say?
She got a letter at dinner calling for her to meet Snape in the dungeons at 8:00 for her detention. She left the common room fifteen minutes early and knocked on the door to the dungeons.
"You're finally getting the hang of this knocking thing aren't you?" Snape asked as he opened the door. Grace rolled her eyes. The man was impossible!
"Well?" He said. "What are you just standing there for?" He gestured her into the classroom and in turn into his office. A fire was blazing the in the grate. Snape pointed at the floo powder. "Just follow my example," He commanded, taking a pinch of the powder. He threw it in, stepped into the suddenly green flames, and shouted "Croaker's Place!" In a swirl of emerald he was gone.
Grace was well acquainted with the floo network of course. She emulated her professor and felt the world swirling around her. She came to an abrupt halt, and climbed out of the fire grate dusting soot off of her uniform. She looked up and saw Snape standing next to a tall nearly bald man with keen eyes, spectacles, and a few tufts of gray hair: William Croaker, age 57.
Grace stood up and gulped. She brushed the soot from her skirt nervously and met Croaker's dark blue eyes. He looked her up and down once and then turned to Severus before he spoke.
"Hell no."
A/N: Well, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I know you've been waiting for an eternity! ^_^ Sorry about that...I could reel off a list of excuses ten miles long, but it's pointless. Late it late *sigh*
Please stick around for chapter four!! See, I promised this story would get darker. Trust me, it's going to be as bad, if not worse, than NTB in this area...I hope...
Next chapter we get into Death Eater training, oh boy! And also, for all you people who prefer the dark, evil type we meet Damian Flint on a deeper level. I'm working as fast as I can! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and don't forget to leave a review ^_~