A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for all your wonderful reviews, I really appreciate your feedback. Keep it up! ^_~
Okay, a few things about this chapter before we begin. First of all, if everything goes according to plan, this is the second to last chapter of this story *tear* I can hardly believe it. Don't worry, there will be a sequel. More on that in the next chapter.
Secondly, I know I mentioned a certain Death Eater's capture in Never Turn Back. However, thanks to OotP *sigh* I'm going to go back and take that tiny little reference you probably don't remember right out of the story. His capture is in THIS chapter, so have fun with that.
IMPORTANT!!!!!! PLEASE READ THIS NOTE!!!!!!!!! This story has a rating of PG 13. However, after much debate, I have decided to warn everyone that this chapter is rated R. There's nothing explicit and no more cussing than usual, but...if you don't read R as a rule, stop now. Okay, you are forwarned.
Okay, with all that boring but necessary jargon, on to the story!
Chapter Seven
Crossing the Chasm
~To walk within the lines
Would make my life so boring
I want to know that I have been
To the extreme
So knock me off my feet
C'mon now, give it to me
Anything to make me feel alive~
**Avril Lavigne's "Anything but Ordinary"
Eventually, killing became easier. Her heart no longer stopped for more than a beat when she saw the bodies fall, she no longer lost her head as she fled the scene. She even felt a tiny bit of guilty pride in seeing her Dark Mark soar above the homes that she had rid of life. The homes were merely houses now, to be sold at an auction to the lowest bidder.
Grace hardly slept any more. Even on nights when she wasn't called to the Dark Lord's service (few and far between as they were) she would lie awake for hours, tossing and turning. Sometimes she saw the faces or heard the voices of her victims, in which case she would squeeze her eyes shut and bury her face in her pillow in a vain attempt to drown them out.
Winter was fast approaching. In past years this would have brought a frown and wistful sigh, memories of summer playing through her mind. Grace had developed a shockingly cynical view of nostalgia. It was now a waste of time and emotion she didn't have. Summer, especially, brought a scornful smile to her face. Summer was a season for clear blue skies and sun-kissed skin, fireflies and sunsets on the beach, innocent laughter and stolen kisses. All things she had once treasured, all things that she now realized were silly, naïve things her youthful optimistic mind had once given value.
December, now that was more her style. Cold and unforgiving, yet oddly beautiful. The cold, unyielding ice which seemed so innocent and attractive, hiding its secret power to kill, if it so pleases. In the weeks following her initiation into evil Grace felt her heart slowly turning to ice itself, feeling at home with the bitter wind and snow.
More practically, and less poetically, winter meant longer nights. Grace had always viewed herself as a day person in the past, but she had learned to cherish the night. Severus had taught her a spell to hide the footsteps she left in the snow, and no matter what man invented for protection, there was no better cover for a one out to commit sinister deeds than darkness. Even when she was not out playing Super Spy the darkness changed the color of her bed curtains to a deep, decidedly boring shade of brown, instead of the deep, rich crimson which only reminded her of the innocent blood on her hands.
Grace scowled, wondering when she had become so damnably poetic in her thoughts.
The perfect Death Eater, she had decided, would be one with absolutely no imagination. That Death Eater wouldn't hear the moans of their victims' ghosts or the slight rustling of an Auror waiting to pounce. They wouldn't live in constant dread of Voldemort's unspoken threats.
There was no such person.
These thoughts dominated her mind these days, taking place of Charms and Transfiguration. The grades she had once cherished were slipping, and she didn't much care. What she was doing was so much more important than an A in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Her Potions grades were, of course, still top notch...but that wasn't a result of her hard work and dedication.
Well, well, well, so his almighty Slytherin favortism was now passed on to a Gryffindor. How quaint.
She berated herself for scorning his sympathy. It was one of the few things she had left these days.
The biggest problem with winter, December specifically, was Christmas. All that good cheer and eggnog really cut into her dark, bitter love of the season. It was however, quickly approaching. And with Christmas came winter holidays and with the holidays came...her family.
She winced at the mere thought. It would be the first time she faced her parents since her initiation. They would be spending Christmas Eve at Uncle Draco and Aunt Ginny's, which she could handle, seeing as Ginny knew her secret. It would be the rest of the time, with her father's fond but stern gaze and her mother's kind words entering the scene of her guilt to dance with the echoes of her murders.
"Grace?" Angel's hiss interrupted her friend's increasingly morbid thoughts, "Grace, it's the last class of the year, could you PLEASE pay attention for at least FIVE minutes!"
"Sorry," she muttered, her cheeks flushing. Her gaze slowly returned to Professor Flitwick, who was rattling on about nonsense as usual. Grace rolled her, eyes, but managed to retain a relative level of consciousness until the bell finally rang.
Just when she was celebrating with joy like everyone else at the prospect of two weeks of freedom (minus the giant pile of homework awaiting her) Grace remembered what the holidays entailed and immediately sobered. James and Angel exchanged looks, but then again, Grace had been acting very oddly as of late.
The hours that passed like molasses for everyone else flew by for Grace in her dread. Before she knew what was going on she was being jostled into the Hogwarts Express at the Hogsmeade Station, then jostled out again at Platform 9 3/4. Angel and James were by her side of course. However while in the past their presence had given her courage, her innocent friends now made her feel even worse.
"Mum!" Angel cried, spying Ginny from across the station. Grace forced her eyes up. As she had expected, her parents, as well as the Potters, were standing with Ginny and Draco.
"Hey Mum, hey Dad," James called, flailing his arms as they shoved their way toward their parents. It was Harry who spotted the trio, and grinning pointed them out to the other parents.
"Grace!" Rayven cried, throwing her arms around her one and only daughter. Grace hugged her back fiercely, then embraced her father. This reunion was only reminding her again of how much she was risking with this spy business.
And how much they had risked.
She hadn't really thought about it much until recently, but it occurred to her, as she looked up at her father's smiling face, that he had once been the Innercircle assassin, and he had once killed as ruthlessly as she did. The thought made her nauseous. It was one thing for Grace to be a heartless murder, but her beloved parents...
She glanced at Angel, who had now been joined by Phil, and wondered if Angel ever thought about her father's involvement with the Death Eaters. Even if she did, she has no idea what its really like, Grace thought sourly. Neither did I, she realized, her stomach flipping, I joined voluntarily.
She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. After all, it was Christmas!
The first few days of holiday were blessedly normal. It was as if Voldemort had forgotten her existence, which was all to the good in Grace's opinion. Before she knew it was Christmas Eve and she was throwing floo powder into the fireplace and demanding to be taken to Malfoy Manor.
"Grace!" Angel exclaimed when she crawled out of the fire place covered in soot. Angel didn't much care, soot was easily removed with magic. The two friends embraced, and Grace even managed a sincere smile for her friend.
"Angel," she replied, almost playfully. They were interrupted by a loud crash from another room.
"My brother," she rolled her eyes. Behind them Grace's parents had arrived and where magically removing the residue from the chimney from their clothes, and performed the favor for Grace and Angel (who was equally covered after the fond embrace) before letting the girls go along their merry way.
"Is James here?" Grace asked once they were out of earshot.
"In my room," Angel replied. "Speaking of which, what is going ON with you too? I mean, he kissed you, then got jealous because you were flirting with other guys, and he stares at you in class! Grace, you've liked him for years, what other signs could you possibly be waiting for?"
"I guess I've just grown up and moved past James Potter," Grace shrugged. And a number of other things, she added mentally.
"Well...if you say so," Angel replied uneasily, "But I've always been sure you were meant for each other and you waited so long...don't you even want to give him a chance?"
"Just leave it alone, okay?" Grace snapped, her increasingly short Death Eater temper getting the better of her.
"Okay, okay," Angel conceded in a hurt voice. Grace felt a twinge of guilt, but didn't dwell on it. As if she didn't have enough on her mind.
They finally got up to Angel's room (Malfoy Manor was positively enormous, and Angel's room was, quite inconveniently, as far from the entering fireplace as possible). Grace had just hugged James in the way of greeting, her stomach twisting with the vivid memories of the kiss and Angel's words, but her hopes crush by even more vivid memories of her dear master Lord Voldemort, when a bell rang throughout the house signaling that Christmas dinner was served. Angel groaned.
"You know, Mum and Dad don't care because they can Apparate from one room to another," she whined as they began the trek down to the dining room. Grace smirked, refraining from Apparating right then just to show off-and revealing her particular training. "But Phil and I have to actually WALK!"
"It's not that bad, Miss Angel," Brassett, the Malfoy's ghost butler, commented as he floated by. Grace and James, not used to dead servants, jumped as they usually did when Brassett made a sudden appearance, but Angel just made a face at him and continued on her journey to dinner.
The feast was excellent, thanks to the abundant and talented house elves. They weren't paid, although James's mother had made Uncle Draco promise to pay them if they so desired. However, they were well-treated, which is more than many house elves outside of Hogwarts could say.
Dinner ended after a fabulous desert of plum pudding and fruit tart. Everyone then retired to the enormous parlor, decorated in warm and welcoming colors by Aunt Ginny. The adults had coffee, and the trio had hot cocoa in identical mugs in an attempt to feel older. Elizabeth also had cocoa, and was looking down snobbishly at Luke, Anna, and Phil. They youngest three didn't much care though. Luke and Phil were comparing chocolate frog cards and Anna was talking to anyone who would listen, thrilled to have everyone back from school for the holidays.
Grace sighed contentedly and leaned back in her chair. This was what she was fighting for, after all. Holiday cheer and laughter, lights gleaming softly on smiling faces, peaceful moments with the entire family...okay, so she wasn't technically related to the Potters, but they were family in all but name.
They would be family if Grace and James were married...
WHOA! Where had that come from? Obviously with all that time out from Death Eater duty Grace's mind had found the time to wander back to that old, unending crush on her best friend. She would have scowled, but the Christmas cheer didn't seem to permit it...
She suddenly sat up stiffly. It appeared that the Christmas cheer DID permit her Dark Mark to burn, summoning her to the Dark Lord's side. She looked around, the comfort and love around her she had just been contemplating was suddenly surreal and far away. She managed to keep her composer long enough to ask to talk to Aunt Ginny. Alone. Outside.
Ginny smiled and excused them pleasantly. The moment they exited the parlor she summoned Grace's Death Eaters ensemble and handed it to her, a serious look clouding her seconds-ago happy face.
"Aunt-" Grace began.
"Summons, I know," Ginny replied stiffly, "I'll make your excuses, don't worry about a thing. You can Apparate from here. Go!" she exclaimed. Hesitating just long enough to give her aunt a grateful smile, Grace did as she was commanded.
She did not arrive in a clearing in a snowy forest under a cloudy sky as she had expected. She was in another manor, similar to the one she had just left. It was a ballroom, she knew immediately, and tastefully decorated with ornate moulds and lots of the emerald green favored by Slytherins. There was a crest she didn't recognize surrounding them.
She was surprised to see several others waiting for her. The tall, completely covered form of Voldemort was in the center, and she counted six other masked figures. Even as she stood, her mind completely blank thanks to her Occlumency abilities, three more arrived.
Grace was not stupid. She felt her throat go dry as it all came together in her mind. The Innercircle, of course! As the last of the Death Eaters arrived Voldemort gestured for silence. He let them stand and sweat for a few moments before speaking.
"Reveal your faces," he commanded. Hands shaking, his servants did as they were asked. Grace felt her eyes widen in amazement as she saw what was before her. Obviously she and Damian Flint weren't the only Death Eaters in Hogwarts.
Henry Holiday was among the first he recognized. His eyes widened slightly when they came in contact within hers. He was probably pretty shocked to see such a renowned Gryffindor in their midst. There was a Ravenclaw and a few adults, but mostly Slytherin students. Looking around, she was shocked to discover that Tom Flint was not among those called.
Maybe Angel was right, she thought, maybe he's not evil. The thought was difficult enough to comprehend when she wasn't trying to completely empty her mind, so she shoved it to the back for the moment.
"You ten have proven faithful and useful in my few months of trial. I'm sure you know why you are here. I will approach you one at a time," The Dark Lord intoned monotonously. To her great surprise, Grace was the first approached. She heard faint muttering from those around her. She knew this was a great honor...
The greatest honor for the traitorous spy. Oh how Grace had come to love the irony of life.
"Whom do you serve?" he asked her.
"You, my Lord," she answered bravely, bowing. He raised his wand and she clenched her jaw.
It was futile to try and prepare oneself for the onslaught of pain Cruciatus brought. No matter how many times you had writhed under its influence, you could never be ready. She endured the pain for several eternities, and when she was finally released and could feel only the constant echo of the torture she struggled to her feet, blood pouring from her a cut just above her right eye and her knees shaking. She was well aware or nine other eyes watching every drop of blood and salty water drip down her face.
She watched them endure the same, her pain hardly weakening. The screams of her compatriots penetrated her skin and seemed to be trapped in her chest, making her heart contract painfully and her stomach churn. She wanted nothing more than to look away, and yet her eyes were glued to the thrashing forms.
"Welcome to the Innercircle," Voldemort said blandly as the last defeated Death Eater stood in shame and fear. "You are now the chosen...the privileged. One of those privileges is knowing the face of your Lord and Master."
Grace had to use every drop of energy within her to keep her Occlumency in place. As it was, she was sure her head had snapped up somewhat, and her eyes had widened. His identity...the form he was taking...she practically drooled at the thought of Bill's face when she revealed this information. She shoved the thought away with all the strength she could muster.
"However," he continued, not realizing Grace's internal struggle for power, "I have had traitors in my midst before, and I am not stupid. Therefore..." He raised his wand, and the Death Eaters winced. However, the blue mist that descended upon them merely tingled somewhat, actually a rather pleasant sensation after the Cruciatus Curse.
"My identity cannot be revealed to one without my Mark," he said. Grace closed her eyes again, her Occlumency nearly slipping as her heart plummeted. However, her eyes remained fixed on her master as he slowly, ever so slowly, lowered the cloak. He was going so very slowly, and her whole being ached so painfully...she felt somewhat lightheaded from using so much magical energy on the Occlumency. She was ready to faint when she finally saw Lord Voldemort's smirking face. She felt her heart stop and all the air leave her body.
She was looking at the all-too-familiar face of one Thomas Flint.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Bill Croaker knew he should be at home, asleep. It was one in the morning on Christmas Day and Grace was staying with Ginny, so if she needed anything she could just go back to Malfoy Manor and it wouldn't be in the least bit suspicious. However, bill had no family to speak of and Christmas had always been lonely, especially since Dennis died seventeen years ago.
Something was keeping him in his office, playing solitaire with cards so worn he was the only one who could really understood what they said. He knew that he should be fast asleep, and that if he were truly just lonely he could just go the Malfoy's and they would be happy to have him. But somehow he couldn't bring himself to leave.
This proved to be for the best when Grace Weasley came stumbling into his office, blood drying on her face and her whole body shaking.
"Jesus," he breathed, catching the tiny form as it crumpled. He lowered her gently into a chair and grabbed his wand, muttering spells to heal her wounds and ease her pain. As if that were really possible anymore. Perhaps there would be nothing for her parents to see tomorrow morning, but the real wounds Voldemort was leaving on this child were much deeper than visible scars and much more difficult to heal.
"Grace?" he asked gently. "Grace, can you hear me?"
She moaned faintly in response. "Grace, what happened?" he demanded urgently.
"I...I was initiated into the Inner..." she interrupted herself by going into a sudden coughing fit. Blood spattered from her mouth onto her hand. "Sorry," she whispered, realizing some of the blood had reached Bill.
"Don't worry about it," he commanded fiercely. "The Innercircle, then?" he said, continuing to recite every medical spell he could remember. The blood disappeared, and she sighed in relief.
"Yes," she replied, her voice stronger and appreciation in her eyes. "Bill, Voldemort is--"
For Grace the world suddenly stopped, as if a pause button had been punched. She forced her voice to say Tom Flint, but nothing came out. She tried again and again, but nothing was working. Her mouth was just hanging there, half open, ready to finish her sentence. However, she finally realized, Voldemort's spell was preventing her from telling Bill that Tom Flint had sacrificed his soul to allow Voldemort's to inhabit his body. Anger flared through her, but there was nothing she could do.
"-Powerful," she finally finished. However, to Bill it seemed there hadn't even been a pause, as if that had been her original intent all the time. Another effect of the spell, she thought scornfully. He nodded sympathetically.
"I know, Grace," he replied. "Do you have some names for me?"
"Henry Holiday, Kevin Vanderburgh..." she rattled off all the student she recognized, surprised and relieved that the spell didn't prevent her from doing that either. After she had given a full report, including descriptions and all the personal information she had on all the recognized Death Eaters, she stood to leave.
"Are you sure you shouldn't floo or something?" Bill asked concernedly. "I have a connection directly to Ginny's bedroom-"
"That would be fun to explain to Uncle Draco," Grace replied, rolling her eyes. "I'm perfectly fine, Bill, I can Apparate, don't worry about it."
"Are you sure?" he asked again.
"YES!" she cried. "I'll see you soon, I'm sure, okay? Merry Christmas," she added as an afterthought before disappearing into thin air. Bill sat down with a sigh, and dealt a new game of solitaire.
Grace arrived on the front porch of the Manor. She opened the door silently, tiptoeing up to the guest room she always used when she stayed there. She hadn't gone more than ten feet before she heard a voice.
"Grace?"
Swearing under her breath, Grace turned to face a very inquisitive James Potter. "Uh...hey," she muttered, her right hand automatically crossing over and gripping her left arm over the Dark Mark even though she knew he couldn't see it through all her clothing.
"Where were you?" he demanded. "Ginny told us you felt sick and went to bed."
"Um...er..." Grace's mind suddenly shifted and she heard James, a game show host with a fake microphone and even more phony smile ask where she had been as a blonde vixen showed off the brand new car that would be her prize if she answered the question correctly as she pressed the big red button that would allow here to reveal her whereabouts with Voldemort and win the prize.
Or not.
With that thought, she panicked and grabbed her wand. "Obliviate!" she cried. James eyes went glazed for a moment, then finally focused on Grace again, who had gone into the kitchen and was opening a cupboard to find a glass.
"What are you doing?" James asked. "I thought you were sick."
"Getting some water," Grace replied. "I know there's a bathroom upstairs, but I guess I kind of spaced." She smiled shyly at him as she had done so many times before, and he gave her a lopsided grin in return.
"We'd better get to bed," Grace finally said as the silence dragged on for a moment longer than was comfortable. "Anna and them will have us up pretty early."
"Yeah," he replied. "Er...goodnight Grace."
"'Night James," she replied.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Morsmodre," Grace muttered, watching with detached interest as her Dark Mark soared above the large Muggle home. Randolph Vinder, the Minister of Defense, was her first official victim as the Assassin of the Innercircle. Turning with a twisted smile and repressed tears she Apparated into the night.
The Ministry was still and silent, which was to be expected seeing as it was nearly two in the morning. She hid her mask but kept her hood up to hide her face and all-too-conspicuous bright red Weasley hair.
"Bill!" she exclaimed, starting to lower her cloak as she finally reached his office. He leapt from his chair and motioned for her not to reveal her face even though the office was deserted.
"What happened?" he asked in a whisper.
"Muggle Minister of Defense," Grace replied with a frown. "What's going on?"
"An Auror squadron caught a live Death Eater we've been searching for for over twenty years," he replied quickly, "And they're bringing him up here for questioning."
"Who?" she demanded curiously. Bill's eyes flickered to the door before answering.
"Peter Pettigrew."
"WHAT?!" she cried, her eyes widening suddenly.
"Yes, I-" Bill broke off with a swear word. "Stand in the corner and don't make any noise." No sooner had Grace followed his instructions and hidden herself in the shadows than three Aurors burst into the office with a bald, stooped man in shackles and tattered robes.
"Leave him here," Bill commanded imperiously, "I have informed the Minister." The Aurors nodded and then left.
The Minister...but that was Harry! Grace winced at the thought of the look on her godfather's face if he discovered her hiding in a thick black cloak in the corner of an office of the Department of Mysteries.
There were a few moments of complete silence in which Grace was sure Bill could hear her heart pounding from across the room. The pathetic creature that was Peter Pettigrew was slumped in a sad tableau in the center of the room.
She flinched when she heard the tell-tale sounds from the other side of the door telling her someone had arrived. She bit her lip, her eyes still glued to the door, waiting for Harry's grand entrance, her parents and the others in tow.
Severus Snape stormed into the room alone. Pettigrew saw him and squeaked, fumbling backward as Grace's eyes widened in confusion and surprise. Severus didn't notice her presence-or Bill's for that matter. He strode forward without stopping, his eyes fixed on Pettigrew's quickly retreating form. Without warning Severus raised his fist and rammed it into the other man's face.
"Severus!" Bill cried, interfering as he raised his arm again, ready for another hit. Bill grabbed the limb and the two men glared at one another, Severus breathing heavily. They probably would have stood there all night if Harry and his entourage had not suddenly arrived on the scene.
"Professor Snape! Mr. Croaker! What is going on here?" Harry demanded. Severus slowly lowered his hand and took a step backward, his flashing eyes now staring angrily at Pettigrew once again. Harry's eyes were, if possible, full of even more angry hatred, but when he spoke his voice was controlled and eve. "Professor Snape, what is your business here?" Severus's eyes snapped to meet Harry's, but it was Bill who answered.
"He was coming to collect his apprentice," Bill said calmly. "She has the ingredients you requested, against my better judgment. Honestly, Severus, what are you trying to concoct now that requires so many illegal entities?"
"It's not entirely poisonous, I assure you," he answered, his eyes finding Grace for the first time. She was the only one who saw his surprise at seeing her and his still smouldering anger. "Are you ready, child?" he barked coldly. She nodded, biting back a sarcastic remark pertaining to his calling her a "child".
He turned and strode out of the room. Grace forced herself to follow, her head bent and cheeks flaming despite her anonymity in the black hood. Well...near anonymity. She felt Ginny's gaze following her knowingly.
Once in the hall she had to run to keep up with Severus's pace. "What was that?" she demanded breathlessly.
"None of your concern," he replied curtly.
"But-" she began to argue.
"What are YOU doing here?" he interrupted, looking as annoyed as she had ever seen him. She rolled her eyes.
"Debriefing the Ministry of my activities, obviously. Now, why-"
"You should get home before your parents realize you're gone," Severus said firmly, making it clear he was not going to answer any of her questions. "They know you like Potions and might become curious if they realize you were gone while my apprentice was off fetching supplies." He gave her a wry smile, "Your father was once my apprentice, you know."
"Yes, I know," she replied, her head bowed. He laid a hand on the bowed head, and when she finally thought she had his trust she looked up to ask him about Pettigrew.
He was gone.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The holidays passed quickly, and school resumed, to the disappointment of many, including Grace. At least when she was at home she could sleep in after a night full of murder followed by Ministry briefing followed by guilty tossing and turning for hours. Class offered no such luxury. Her grades were falling worse than ever now and she cared less and less.
They had finally found a replacement for Hagrid. The position of Care of Magical Creatures teacher had been given to none other than Charlie Weasley. Grace had been thrilled to see him in the castle. He had always been her favorite uncle...well, he and Draco were pretty close.
However, after about a minute of happiness Grace realized he was just one more person in potential danger, and one more person who would be disappointed if her identity was discovered.
But with all of that, the worst part of being in school was seeing Angel and Tom Flint together. The first morning she had walked into the Great Hall and seen them eating together she ran to a bathroom and threw up. In one day she would watch him kiss her best friend then listen and bow as he commanded her to kill the innocent.
It was yet another irony that while Angel was Tom's girlfriend Grace was at his house nearly every night. It was the Flint Manor he was occupying, of course, and Grace was beginning to know the layout of that manor as well as the castle.
So when Grace was summoned in the early evening in the last week in January, she didn't think it was anything special. Another murder, another sleepless night. It was all the same anymore, her entire existence was a haze of horror flitting between reality and nightmare.
She arrived in what she immediately recognized as the foyer. However, Voldemort/Tom was nowhere in sight. Instead, to her extreme annoyance, Grace found a sniveling house elf awaiting her.
"Follow Misery, Miss," the house squeaked mournfully, leading the way up the stairs. Grace frowned, realizing the thing's name must be Misery. She rolled her eyes. Only a Flint, honestly.
She was lead as far away from the entrance as possible to a section of the Manor she had only entered once before: The Northwest Tower. It was the tallest tower of the four, and presumably his favorite. Men, she thought, rolling her eyes, before summoning her Occlumency around her.
Misery the house elf stopped outside of a thick wooden door, gesturing for her to entire. The creature disappeared the moment Grace's hand reached for the knob, its job done. In normal circumstances Grace would have felt a twinge of sympathy and guilt. The elf was obviously scared out of its wits. However, in her Death Eater mood this hardly even registered in her mind, let alone evoked precious and rare emotion.
She pulled open the heavy door and entered a room she had never seen before. It was decorated in black and silver, heavy velvet contrasting with fine silk. A giant bed dominated the room, its hangings matching the rest of the room. Voldemort was standing next to it.
She found it difficult to bury her curiosity and surprise. He was not in a thick black cloak hiding his true appearance as she was used to. He was actually wearing his school uniform, just like she was, his green and silver tie loosely thrown around his neck. She had never approached him as his servant when he seemed so very near her age, so real, so...normal.
"My Lord," she bowed, nearly failing to show proper respect by addressing him as Tom.
"Good evening, Grace," he replied, and she felt her hair stand on end a shiver through her spine as he called her by her given name. He smiled at her, and stared down on her, his deep eyes of melted chocolate cold and unreadable as always.
"What do you wish?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. His smile widened, and he sauntered toward her. He was obviously pleased by her fear.
"You are a pretty girl, Grace Weasley," he said, a finger tracing her jaw line. It felt like fire on her skin, and she closed her eyes for a minute to keep the Occlumency in place.
"Th...Thank you, my Lord," she stuttered, trying not to let the disgust enter her voice. His eyes wandered down her body then back up in a way she did not at all like. He suddenly grabbed her wrists and pulled her closer. Their eyes were locked, and his face was so close she could feel his hot breath on her cheek.
"What do you want?" she whispered. He smiled again, lowering his mouth to her ear.
"I think you know what I want," he whispered huskily. Grace's eyes widened in fear. She twisted her wrists, trying with all her might to pull away, but in vain. He laughed and picked her up, carrying her to his bed.
He raped her as he did everything, quickly and efficiently. He left her lying naked and shivering, tears pouring down her face. An eternity of darkness passed as she lay there, waiting for the welcome arms of Death.
Eventually she stood, pulling on her tattered clothes with shaking hands. She found her wand in one piece and Apparated. She fell to her knees in the snow and threw up violently for several minutes, pain she had never known consuming her. Then she stood and ran, ran as she had never run before. She ran through the grounds and into the castle, which was just beginning to sleep. There were a few night owls in the common room, but she paid them little attention. She slammed the door to her dorm room, not caring who was awakened, and ran into the bathroom.
She turned the water on as hot as it would go and threw up again in the toilet before actually getting into the shower. The scalding water was doing nothing. Grabbing a washcloth Grace scrubbed her body until the skin was raw and bleeding, but she still felt filthy.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
James didn't begin to worry about Grace until lunch. He was used to eating breakfast alone by then and he knew Grace slept in occasionally and arrived in the afternoon, slightly embarrassed but none the worse for the extra sleep. However, she usually showed up in time for a meal.
He waited for her, watching the door through all his afternoon classes, unable to even think of somewhere she could possibly be. True, she had been acting strange lately, but this was entirely new.
By dinner he was seriously worried. He grabbed Angel and pulled her out of the swarm clamoring to reach their suppers in the Great Hall.
"Where's Gold?" he hissed.
"I don't know," she replied, her eyes widening, "I was going to ask YOU where she was!" James swore and Angel bit her lip. "I'll go upstairs and check the common room, okay? I'll meet you in the Great Hall. Okay...James?"
"Yeah, fine," he replied, waving somewhat distractedly. His mind was whirring, trying to solve this new enigma in his progressively more confusing friendship with Grace Weasley.
The thing was, he would daydream in class about their one kiss, remembering those few moments where he was kissing her and she was kissing him back and they were in love, if only in that teenaged, silly sense. He was dying for answers, wishing to know more than anything why she had run away.
It sounded incredibly egotistical and self-centered, and James almost felt bad thinking it, but he had assumed Grace had a crush on him and would be happy to return his feelings now that he had discovered them. He couldn't pinpoint the moment he realized he was head-over-heels for his best friend and his godfather's only daughter, but the time since then had an ongoing roller coaster of unpredictable emotional twists.
He sat down at the Gryffindor table and pushed the food around on his plate, wishing he could break into Grace's mind and figure out what was going on in there. He was just contemplating researching Legilimency when Angel ran into the Great Hall, plopping next to him and reaching for the beef.
"Well?" James demanded.
"She's sick," Angel rolled her eyes.
"Well then, why isn't she in the Hospital Wing?" James retorted.
"She says its just nausea or something," Angel replied, shrugging.
"But Madame Pomfrey can FIX that!" James cried, annoyed that he didn't understand when Angel obviously did.
"She doesn't want to bother, James, just leave her alone," she sighed. James glared and went back to pushing around his dinner.
He couldn't sleep that night. Just after midnight he gave up and threw on his bathrobe, sneaking down into the common with the feeble hope that the fire would help.
He didn't realize until he was at the bottom of the steps that Grace was already there. She was sitting on the sofa in front of the blazing fire, her arms wrapped around herself. He took a few tentative steps forward and realized that despite the fire's heat she was shivering.
"Grace?" he muttered. She jumped and spun around. The fire gave her face an eerie glow and her eyes seemed even more unnatural than usual in the darkness.
"Hey," she whispered.
"Do you mind if I sit down?" he asked, gesturing to the rest of the sofa. She shrugged, and he sat. There was a silence in which they both simply sat staring into the fire, lost in their own thoughts.
"Are you feeling better?" he finally asked.
"What?" she replied, sounding confused. "Oh. Right, that...a little better, I suppose."
The silence dragged on.
"Grace..." he said her name again, desperate for this night not to be wasted.
"What?" she asked, turning to meet his gaze. Her face and eyes were completely blank. He didn't know what to say to convey his meaning, so he simply acted on impulse and kissed her.
She went rigid as a bored as his lips brushed hers. His hand found her arm and it was stiff and unforgiving. He tried for a moment to make her react, but then realized her eyes were wide open and she was staring at him as if he were trying to kill her.
"Er...Grace, I-" But he got no further. Grace stood slowly, her hand on her mouth, her eyes still wide and staring down at him. She then turned and ran faster than anything he had ever seen up the stairs to the girl's dormitory. James sighed and turned his gaze back to the fire.
Looked like he had messed it up again.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Grace started going to class after that, but James and Angel's worries did not stop. She didn't pay any attention in class, or any where else for that matter, and she never ate that they could see. Angel whispered to James that to the best of her knowledge, she hadn't slept either.
Grace, for her part, didn't want sleep or food or anything that would bring her life. Her friends tried to make her go to the Hospital Wing, but she fought them off. Medicine was the last thing she wanted.
Severus was worried, and she knew it. He even took the risk of holding her after class. She told him she was tired, which was true. But it was not her reason for wanting to die.
She was trying to move on, trying to move past that...that...incident in the Northwest Tower of Flint Manor in January. But every time she closed her eyes, every time she heard a boy speak of a girl, every time she saw HIM...
Angel looked at her curiously, and Grace smiled for show. She was still an actress, after all, for that's all a spy is, really. An actor on the great stage of the illusion which so many people believed was reality. She smirked...there was that poetic streak again.
"Gold, eat SOMETHING, won't you?" Angel wheedled, holding out a piece of toast.
"I'm not hungry," she shrugged, forcing the bile in her throat to go down as she glanced at the food.
"If you're sick you should see Madame Pomfrey," James insisted for the hundredth time. Grace shrugged, not meeting his eye.
If there was one thing she wanted to avoid more than food, it was James. She knew all he wanted was some easy girl. That's how all men worked, she now realized. There seemed to be a great chasm separating her life before and after....It. And her crush on James, or anybody for that matter, was left on the other side of that expanse.
They had Care of Magical Creatures that morning, which required walking through the snow. James and Angel were looking forward to it. All the students loved Professor Weasley, who was promising to bring a baby dragon before the end of the year. The two of them got a little ahead of Grace, which was probably to be expected.
It wasn't until they were nearly at the hut that they realized she was gone. James turned, his blood running cold at what he saw.
For a moment he saw Grace, her fiery hair and black robes standing out against the pure snow. She was only about half way to the hut. Then, suddenly, he saw her fall.
He sprinted toward her, his mind racing with worry and dread. However, he was not the first person on the scene.
When he reached Grace, she was already being lifted into Professor Snape's arms. Looking up, James saw the man's face twisted with worry, nearly as pale as the girl in his arms. Angel and Professor Weasley soon joined them with the rest of the class, nudging each other for a better view.
"What's wrong with her, Severus?" Weasley demanded.
"I don't know, but she needs medical attention desperately," he replied. "She's freezing." James heard a soft moan from his friend and started forward, trying desperately to see if she was okay.
"Grace?" he demanded.
"Daddy?" she whispered, looking around in confusion.
"Sh," Snape commanded harshly. Grace looked up at him, then around at her classmates and uncle, clearly bewildered. Then her eyes widened and she began to weep.
"What's going on?" Weasley demanded angrily.
"I don't know," he repeated again. "But we have to get her out of the snow."
With that Professor Severus Snape turned and marched into the castle, his apprentice in his arms.
Okay, a few things about this chapter before we begin. First of all, if everything goes according to plan, this is the second to last chapter of this story *tear* I can hardly believe it. Don't worry, there will be a sequel. More on that in the next chapter.
Secondly, I know I mentioned a certain Death Eater's capture in Never Turn Back. However, thanks to OotP *sigh* I'm going to go back and take that tiny little reference you probably don't remember right out of the story. His capture is in THIS chapter, so have fun with that.
IMPORTANT!!!!!! PLEASE READ THIS NOTE!!!!!!!!! This story has a rating of PG 13. However, after much debate, I have decided to warn everyone that this chapter is rated R. There's nothing explicit and no more cussing than usual, but...if you don't read R as a rule, stop now. Okay, you are forwarned.
Okay, with all that boring but necessary jargon, on to the story!
Chapter Seven
Crossing the Chasm
~To walk within the lines
Would make my life so boring
I want to know that I have been
To the extreme
So knock me off my feet
C'mon now, give it to me
Anything to make me feel alive~
**Avril Lavigne's "Anything but Ordinary"
Eventually, killing became easier. Her heart no longer stopped for more than a beat when she saw the bodies fall, she no longer lost her head as she fled the scene. She even felt a tiny bit of guilty pride in seeing her Dark Mark soar above the homes that she had rid of life. The homes were merely houses now, to be sold at an auction to the lowest bidder.
Grace hardly slept any more. Even on nights when she wasn't called to the Dark Lord's service (few and far between as they were) she would lie awake for hours, tossing and turning. Sometimes she saw the faces or heard the voices of her victims, in which case she would squeeze her eyes shut and bury her face in her pillow in a vain attempt to drown them out.
Winter was fast approaching. In past years this would have brought a frown and wistful sigh, memories of summer playing through her mind. Grace had developed a shockingly cynical view of nostalgia. It was now a waste of time and emotion she didn't have. Summer, especially, brought a scornful smile to her face. Summer was a season for clear blue skies and sun-kissed skin, fireflies and sunsets on the beach, innocent laughter and stolen kisses. All things she had once treasured, all things that she now realized were silly, naïve things her youthful optimistic mind had once given value.
December, now that was more her style. Cold and unforgiving, yet oddly beautiful. The cold, unyielding ice which seemed so innocent and attractive, hiding its secret power to kill, if it so pleases. In the weeks following her initiation into evil Grace felt her heart slowly turning to ice itself, feeling at home with the bitter wind and snow.
More practically, and less poetically, winter meant longer nights. Grace had always viewed herself as a day person in the past, but she had learned to cherish the night. Severus had taught her a spell to hide the footsteps she left in the snow, and no matter what man invented for protection, there was no better cover for a one out to commit sinister deeds than darkness. Even when she was not out playing Super Spy the darkness changed the color of her bed curtains to a deep, decidedly boring shade of brown, instead of the deep, rich crimson which only reminded her of the innocent blood on her hands.
Grace scowled, wondering when she had become so damnably poetic in her thoughts.
The perfect Death Eater, she had decided, would be one with absolutely no imagination. That Death Eater wouldn't hear the moans of their victims' ghosts or the slight rustling of an Auror waiting to pounce. They wouldn't live in constant dread of Voldemort's unspoken threats.
There was no such person.
These thoughts dominated her mind these days, taking place of Charms and Transfiguration. The grades she had once cherished were slipping, and she didn't much care. What she was doing was so much more important than an A in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Her Potions grades were, of course, still top notch...but that wasn't a result of her hard work and dedication.
Well, well, well, so his almighty Slytherin favortism was now passed on to a Gryffindor. How quaint.
She berated herself for scorning his sympathy. It was one of the few things she had left these days.
The biggest problem with winter, December specifically, was Christmas. All that good cheer and eggnog really cut into her dark, bitter love of the season. It was however, quickly approaching. And with Christmas came winter holidays and with the holidays came...her family.
She winced at the mere thought. It would be the first time she faced her parents since her initiation. They would be spending Christmas Eve at Uncle Draco and Aunt Ginny's, which she could handle, seeing as Ginny knew her secret. It would be the rest of the time, with her father's fond but stern gaze and her mother's kind words entering the scene of her guilt to dance with the echoes of her murders.
"Grace?" Angel's hiss interrupted her friend's increasingly morbid thoughts, "Grace, it's the last class of the year, could you PLEASE pay attention for at least FIVE minutes!"
"Sorry," she muttered, her cheeks flushing. Her gaze slowly returned to Professor Flitwick, who was rattling on about nonsense as usual. Grace rolled her, eyes, but managed to retain a relative level of consciousness until the bell finally rang.
Just when she was celebrating with joy like everyone else at the prospect of two weeks of freedom (minus the giant pile of homework awaiting her) Grace remembered what the holidays entailed and immediately sobered. James and Angel exchanged looks, but then again, Grace had been acting very oddly as of late.
The hours that passed like molasses for everyone else flew by for Grace in her dread. Before she knew what was going on she was being jostled into the Hogwarts Express at the Hogsmeade Station, then jostled out again at Platform 9 3/4. Angel and James were by her side of course. However while in the past their presence had given her courage, her innocent friends now made her feel even worse.
"Mum!" Angel cried, spying Ginny from across the station. Grace forced her eyes up. As she had expected, her parents, as well as the Potters, were standing with Ginny and Draco.
"Hey Mum, hey Dad," James called, flailing his arms as they shoved their way toward their parents. It was Harry who spotted the trio, and grinning pointed them out to the other parents.
"Grace!" Rayven cried, throwing her arms around her one and only daughter. Grace hugged her back fiercely, then embraced her father. This reunion was only reminding her again of how much she was risking with this spy business.
And how much they had risked.
She hadn't really thought about it much until recently, but it occurred to her, as she looked up at her father's smiling face, that he had once been the Innercircle assassin, and he had once killed as ruthlessly as she did. The thought made her nauseous. It was one thing for Grace to be a heartless murder, but her beloved parents...
She glanced at Angel, who had now been joined by Phil, and wondered if Angel ever thought about her father's involvement with the Death Eaters. Even if she did, she has no idea what its really like, Grace thought sourly. Neither did I, she realized, her stomach flipping, I joined voluntarily.
She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. After all, it was Christmas!
The first few days of holiday were blessedly normal. It was as if Voldemort had forgotten her existence, which was all to the good in Grace's opinion. Before she knew it was Christmas Eve and she was throwing floo powder into the fireplace and demanding to be taken to Malfoy Manor.
"Grace!" Angel exclaimed when she crawled out of the fire place covered in soot. Angel didn't much care, soot was easily removed with magic. The two friends embraced, and Grace even managed a sincere smile for her friend.
"Angel," she replied, almost playfully. They were interrupted by a loud crash from another room.
"My brother," she rolled her eyes. Behind them Grace's parents had arrived and where magically removing the residue from the chimney from their clothes, and performed the favor for Grace and Angel (who was equally covered after the fond embrace) before letting the girls go along their merry way.
"Is James here?" Grace asked once they were out of earshot.
"In my room," Angel replied. "Speaking of which, what is going ON with you too? I mean, he kissed you, then got jealous because you were flirting with other guys, and he stares at you in class! Grace, you've liked him for years, what other signs could you possibly be waiting for?"
"I guess I've just grown up and moved past James Potter," Grace shrugged. And a number of other things, she added mentally.
"Well...if you say so," Angel replied uneasily, "But I've always been sure you were meant for each other and you waited so long...don't you even want to give him a chance?"
"Just leave it alone, okay?" Grace snapped, her increasingly short Death Eater temper getting the better of her.
"Okay, okay," Angel conceded in a hurt voice. Grace felt a twinge of guilt, but didn't dwell on it. As if she didn't have enough on her mind.
They finally got up to Angel's room (Malfoy Manor was positively enormous, and Angel's room was, quite inconveniently, as far from the entering fireplace as possible). Grace had just hugged James in the way of greeting, her stomach twisting with the vivid memories of the kiss and Angel's words, but her hopes crush by even more vivid memories of her dear master Lord Voldemort, when a bell rang throughout the house signaling that Christmas dinner was served. Angel groaned.
"You know, Mum and Dad don't care because they can Apparate from one room to another," she whined as they began the trek down to the dining room. Grace smirked, refraining from Apparating right then just to show off-and revealing her particular training. "But Phil and I have to actually WALK!"
"It's not that bad, Miss Angel," Brassett, the Malfoy's ghost butler, commented as he floated by. Grace and James, not used to dead servants, jumped as they usually did when Brassett made a sudden appearance, but Angel just made a face at him and continued on her journey to dinner.
The feast was excellent, thanks to the abundant and talented house elves. They weren't paid, although James's mother had made Uncle Draco promise to pay them if they so desired. However, they were well-treated, which is more than many house elves outside of Hogwarts could say.
Dinner ended after a fabulous desert of plum pudding and fruit tart. Everyone then retired to the enormous parlor, decorated in warm and welcoming colors by Aunt Ginny. The adults had coffee, and the trio had hot cocoa in identical mugs in an attempt to feel older. Elizabeth also had cocoa, and was looking down snobbishly at Luke, Anna, and Phil. They youngest three didn't much care though. Luke and Phil were comparing chocolate frog cards and Anna was talking to anyone who would listen, thrilled to have everyone back from school for the holidays.
Grace sighed contentedly and leaned back in her chair. This was what she was fighting for, after all. Holiday cheer and laughter, lights gleaming softly on smiling faces, peaceful moments with the entire family...okay, so she wasn't technically related to the Potters, but they were family in all but name.
They would be family if Grace and James were married...
WHOA! Where had that come from? Obviously with all that time out from Death Eater duty Grace's mind had found the time to wander back to that old, unending crush on her best friend. She would have scowled, but the Christmas cheer didn't seem to permit it...
She suddenly sat up stiffly. It appeared that the Christmas cheer DID permit her Dark Mark to burn, summoning her to the Dark Lord's side. She looked around, the comfort and love around her she had just been contemplating was suddenly surreal and far away. She managed to keep her composer long enough to ask to talk to Aunt Ginny. Alone. Outside.
Ginny smiled and excused them pleasantly. The moment they exited the parlor she summoned Grace's Death Eaters ensemble and handed it to her, a serious look clouding her seconds-ago happy face.
"Aunt-" Grace began.
"Summons, I know," Ginny replied stiffly, "I'll make your excuses, don't worry about a thing. You can Apparate from here. Go!" she exclaimed. Hesitating just long enough to give her aunt a grateful smile, Grace did as she was commanded.
She did not arrive in a clearing in a snowy forest under a cloudy sky as she had expected. She was in another manor, similar to the one she had just left. It was a ballroom, she knew immediately, and tastefully decorated with ornate moulds and lots of the emerald green favored by Slytherins. There was a crest she didn't recognize surrounding them.
She was surprised to see several others waiting for her. The tall, completely covered form of Voldemort was in the center, and she counted six other masked figures. Even as she stood, her mind completely blank thanks to her Occlumency abilities, three more arrived.
Grace was not stupid. She felt her throat go dry as it all came together in her mind. The Innercircle, of course! As the last of the Death Eaters arrived Voldemort gestured for silence. He let them stand and sweat for a few moments before speaking.
"Reveal your faces," he commanded. Hands shaking, his servants did as they were asked. Grace felt her eyes widen in amazement as she saw what was before her. Obviously she and Damian Flint weren't the only Death Eaters in Hogwarts.
Henry Holiday was among the first he recognized. His eyes widened slightly when they came in contact within hers. He was probably pretty shocked to see such a renowned Gryffindor in their midst. There was a Ravenclaw and a few adults, but mostly Slytherin students. Looking around, she was shocked to discover that Tom Flint was not among those called.
Maybe Angel was right, she thought, maybe he's not evil. The thought was difficult enough to comprehend when she wasn't trying to completely empty her mind, so she shoved it to the back for the moment.
"You ten have proven faithful and useful in my few months of trial. I'm sure you know why you are here. I will approach you one at a time," The Dark Lord intoned monotonously. To her great surprise, Grace was the first approached. She heard faint muttering from those around her. She knew this was a great honor...
The greatest honor for the traitorous spy. Oh how Grace had come to love the irony of life.
"Whom do you serve?" he asked her.
"You, my Lord," she answered bravely, bowing. He raised his wand and she clenched her jaw.
It was futile to try and prepare oneself for the onslaught of pain Cruciatus brought. No matter how many times you had writhed under its influence, you could never be ready. She endured the pain for several eternities, and when she was finally released and could feel only the constant echo of the torture she struggled to her feet, blood pouring from her a cut just above her right eye and her knees shaking. She was well aware or nine other eyes watching every drop of blood and salty water drip down her face.
She watched them endure the same, her pain hardly weakening. The screams of her compatriots penetrated her skin and seemed to be trapped in her chest, making her heart contract painfully and her stomach churn. She wanted nothing more than to look away, and yet her eyes were glued to the thrashing forms.
"Welcome to the Innercircle," Voldemort said blandly as the last defeated Death Eater stood in shame and fear. "You are now the chosen...the privileged. One of those privileges is knowing the face of your Lord and Master."
Grace had to use every drop of energy within her to keep her Occlumency in place. As it was, she was sure her head had snapped up somewhat, and her eyes had widened. His identity...the form he was taking...she practically drooled at the thought of Bill's face when she revealed this information. She shoved the thought away with all the strength she could muster.
"However," he continued, not realizing Grace's internal struggle for power, "I have had traitors in my midst before, and I am not stupid. Therefore..." He raised his wand, and the Death Eaters winced. However, the blue mist that descended upon them merely tingled somewhat, actually a rather pleasant sensation after the Cruciatus Curse.
"My identity cannot be revealed to one without my Mark," he said. Grace closed her eyes again, her Occlumency nearly slipping as her heart plummeted. However, her eyes remained fixed on her master as he slowly, ever so slowly, lowered the cloak. He was going so very slowly, and her whole being ached so painfully...she felt somewhat lightheaded from using so much magical energy on the Occlumency. She was ready to faint when she finally saw Lord Voldemort's smirking face. She felt her heart stop and all the air leave her body.
She was looking at the all-too-familiar face of one Thomas Flint.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Bill Croaker knew he should be at home, asleep. It was one in the morning on Christmas Day and Grace was staying with Ginny, so if she needed anything she could just go back to Malfoy Manor and it wouldn't be in the least bit suspicious. However, bill had no family to speak of and Christmas had always been lonely, especially since Dennis died seventeen years ago.
Something was keeping him in his office, playing solitaire with cards so worn he was the only one who could really understood what they said. He knew that he should be fast asleep, and that if he were truly just lonely he could just go the Malfoy's and they would be happy to have him. But somehow he couldn't bring himself to leave.
This proved to be for the best when Grace Weasley came stumbling into his office, blood drying on her face and her whole body shaking.
"Jesus," he breathed, catching the tiny form as it crumpled. He lowered her gently into a chair and grabbed his wand, muttering spells to heal her wounds and ease her pain. As if that were really possible anymore. Perhaps there would be nothing for her parents to see tomorrow morning, but the real wounds Voldemort was leaving on this child were much deeper than visible scars and much more difficult to heal.
"Grace?" he asked gently. "Grace, can you hear me?"
She moaned faintly in response. "Grace, what happened?" he demanded urgently.
"I...I was initiated into the Inner..." she interrupted herself by going into a sudden coughing fit. Blood spattered from her mouth onto her hand. "Sorry," she whispered, realizing some of the blood had reached Bill.
"Don't worry about it," he commanded fiercely. "The Innercircle, then?" he said, continuing to recite every medical spell he could remember. The blood disappeared, and she sighed in relief.
"Yes," she replied, her voice stronger and appreciation in her eyes. "Bill, Voldemort is--"
For Grace the world suddenly stopped, as if a pause button had been punched. She forced her voice to say Tom Flint, but nothing came out. She tried again and again, but nothing was working. Her mouth was just hanging there, half open, ready to finish her sentence. However, she finally realized, Voldemort's spell was preventing her from telling Bill that Tom Flint had sacrificed his soul to allow Voldemort's to inhabit his body. Anger flared through her, but there was nothing she could do.
"-Powerful," she finally finished. However, to Bill it seemed there hadn't even been a pause, as if that had been her original intent all the time. Another effect of the spell, she thought scornfully. He nodded sympathetically.
"I know, Grace," he replied. "Do you have some names for me?"
"Henry Holiday, Kevin Vanderburgh..." she rattled off all the student she recognized, surprised and relieved that the spell didn't prevent her from doing that either. After she had given a full report, including descriptions and all the personal information she had on all the recognized Death Eaters, she stood to leave.
"Are you sure you shouldn't floo or something?" Bill asked concernedly. "I have a connection directly to Ginny's bedroom-"
"That would be fun to explain to Uncle Draco," Grace replied, rolling her eyes. "I'm perfectly fine, Bill, I can Apparate, don't worry about it."
"Are you sure?" he asked again.
"YES!" she cried. "I'll see you soon, I'm sure, okay? Merry Christmas," she added as an afterthought before disappearing into thin air. Bill sat down with a sigh, and dealt a new game of solitaire.
Grace arrived on the front porch of the Manor. She opened the door silently, tiptoeing up to the guest room she always used when she stayed there. She hadn't gone more than ten feet before she heard a voice.
"Grace?"
Swearing under her breath, Grace turned to face a very inquisitive James Potter. "Uh...hey," she muttered, her right hand automatically crossing over and gripping her left arm over the Dark Mark even though she knew he couldn't see it through all her clothing.
"Where were you?" he demanded. "Ginny told us you felt sick and went to bed."
"Um...er..." Grace's mind suddenly shifted and she heard James, a game show host with a fake microphone and even more phony smile ask where she had been as a blonde vixen showed off the brand new car that would be her prize if she answered the question correctly as she pressed the big red button that would allow here to reveal her whereabouts with Voldemort and win the prize.
Or not.
With that thought, she panicked and grabbed her wand. "Obliviate!" she cried. James eyes went glazed for a moment, then finally focused on Grace again, who had gone into the kitchen and was opening a cupboard to find a glass.
"What are you doing?" James asked. "I thought you were sick."
"Getting some water," Grace replied. "I know there's a bathroom upstairs, but I guess I kind of spaced." She smiled shyly at him as she had done so many times before, and he gave her a lopsided grin in return.
"We'd better get to bed," Grace finally said as the silence dragged on for a moment longer than was comfortable. "Anna and them will have us up pretty early."
"Yeah," he replied. "Er...goodnight Grace."
"'Night James," she replied.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Morsmodre," Grace muttered, watching with detached interest as her Dark Mark soared above the large Muggle home. Randolph Vinder, the Minister of Defense, was her first official victim as the Assassin of the Innercircle. Turning with a twisted smile and repressed tears she Apparated into the night.
The Ministry was still and silent, which was to be expected seeing as it was nearly two in the morning. She hid her mask but kept her hood up to hide her face and all-too-conspicuous bright red Weasley hair.
"Bill!" she exclaimed, starting to lower her cloak as she finally reached his office. He leapt from his chair and motioned for her not to reveal her face even though the office was deserted.
"What happened?" he asked in a whisper.
"Muggle Minister of Defense," Grace replied with a frown. "What's going on?"
"An Auror squadron caught a live Death Eater we've been searching for for over twenty years," he replied quickly, "And they're bringing him up here for questioning."
"Who?" she demanded curiously. Bill's eyes flickered to the door before answering.
"Peter Pettigrew."
"WHAT?!" she cried, her eyes widening suddenly.
"Yes, I-" Bill broke off with a swear word. "Stand in the corner and don't make any noise." No sooner had Grace followed his instructions and hidden herself in the shadows than three Aurors burst into the office with a bald, stooped man in shackles and tattered robes.
"Leave him here," Bill commanded imperiously, "I have informed the Minister." The Aurors nodded and then left.
The Minister...but that was Harry! Grace winced at the thought of the look on her godfather's face if he discovered her hiding in a thick black cloak in the corner of an office of the Department of Mysteries.
There were a few moments of complete silence in which Grace was sure Bill could hear her heart pounding from across the room. The pathetic creature that was Peter Pettigrew was slumped in a sad tableau in the center of the room.
She flinched when she heard the tell-tale sounds from the other side of the door telling her someone had arrived. She bit her lip, her eyes still glued to the door, waiting for Harry's grand entrance, her parents and the others in tow.
Severus Snape stormed into the room alone. Pettigrew saw him and squeaked, fumbling backward as Grace's eyes widened in confusion and surprise. Severus didn't notice her presence-or Bill's for that matter. He strode forward without stopping, his eyes fixed on Pettigrew's quickly retreating form. Without warning Severus raised his fist and rammed it into the other man's face.
"Severus!" Bill cried, interfering as he raised his arm again, ready for another hit. Bill grabbed the limb and the two men glared at one another, Severus breathing heavily. They probably would have stood there all night if Harry and his entourage had not suddenly arrived on the scene.
"Professor Snape! Mr. Croaker! What is going on here?" Harry demanded. Severus slowly lowered his hand and took a step backward, his flashing eyes now staring angrily at Pettigrew once again. Harry's eyes were, if possible, full of even more angry hatred, but when he spoke his voice was controlled and eve. "Professor Snape, what is your business here?" Severus's eyes snapped to meet Harry's, but it was Bill who answered.
"He was coming to collect his apprentice," Bill said calmly. "She has the ingredients you requested, against my better judgment. Honestly, Severus, what are you trying to concoct now that requires so many illegal entities?"
"It's not entirely poisonous, I assure you," he answered, his eyes finding Grace for the first time. She was the only one who saw his surprise at seeing her and his still smouldering anger. "Are you ready, child?" he barked coldly. She nodded, biting back a sarcastic remark pertaining to his calling her a "child".
He turned and strode out of the room. Grace forced herself to follow, her head bent and cheeks flaming despite her anonymity in the black hood. Well...near anonymity. She felt Ginny's gaze following her knowingly.
Once in the hall she had to run to keep up with Severus's pace. "What was that?" she demanded breathlessly.
"None of your concern," he replied curtly.
"But-" she began to argue.
"What are YOU doing here?" he interrupted, looking as annoyed as she had ever seen him. She rolled her eyes.
"Debriefing the Ministry of my activities, obviously. Now, why-"
"You should get home before your parents realize you're gone," Severus said firmly, making it clear he was not going to answer any of her questions. "They know you like Potions and might become curious if they realize you were gone while my apprentice was off fetching supplies." He gave her a wry smile, "Your father was once my apprentice, you know."
"Yes, I know," she replied, her head bowed. He laid a hand on the bowed head, and when she finally thought she had his trust she looked up to ask him about Pettigrew.
He was gone.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The holidays passed quickly, and school resumed, to the disappointment of many, including Grace. At least when she was at home she could sleep in after a night full of murder followed by Ministry briefing followed by guilty tossing and turning for hours. Class offered no such luxury. Her grades were falling worse than ever now and she cared less and less.
They had finally found a replacement for Hagrid. The position of Care of Magical Creatures teacher had been given to none other than Charlie Weasley. Grace had been thrilled to see him in the castle. He had always been her favorite uncle...well, he and Draco were pretty close.
However, after about a minute of happiness Grace realized he was just one more person in potential danger, and one more person who would be disappointed if her identity was discovered.
But with all of that, the worst part of being in school was seeing Angel and Tom Flint together. The first morning she had walked into the Great Hall and seen them eating together she ran to a bathroom and threw up. In one day she would watch him kiss her best friend then listen and bow as he commanded her to kill the innocent.
It was yet another irony that while Angel was Tom's girlfriend Grace was at his house nearly every night. It was the Flint Manor he was occupying, of course, and Grace was beginning to know the layout of that manor as well as the castle.
So when Grace was summoned in the early evening in the last week in January, she didn't think it was anything special. Another murder, another sleepless night. It was all the same anymore, her entire existence was a haze of horror flitting between reality and nightmare.
She arrived in what she immediately recognized as the foyer. However, Voldemort/Tom was nowhere in sight. Instead, to her extreme annoyance, Grace found a sniveling house elf awaiting her.
"Follow Misery, Miss," the house squeaked mournfully, leading the way up the stairs. Grace frowned, realizing the thing's name must be Misery. She rolled her eyes. Only a Flint, honestly.
She was lead as far away from the entrance as possible to a section of the Manor she had only entered once before: The Northwest Tower. It was the tallest tower of the four, and presumably his favorite. Men, she thought, rolling her eyes, before summoning her Occlumency around her.
Misery the house elf stopped outside of a thick wooden door, gesturing for her to entire. The creature disappeared the moment Grace's hand reached for the knob, its job done. In normal circumstances Grace would have felt a twinge of sympathy and guilt. The elf was obviously scared out of its wits. However, in her Death Eater mood this hardly even registered in her mind, let alone evoked precious and rare emotion.
She pulled open the heavy door and entered a room she had never seen before. It was decorated in black and silver, heavy velvet contrasting with fine silk. A giant bed dominated the room, its hangings matching the rest of the room. Voldemort was standing next to it.
She found it difficult to bury her curiosity and surprise. He was not in a thick black cloak hiding his true appearance as she was used to. He was actually wearing his school uniform, just like she was, his green and silver tie loosely thrown around his neck. She had never approached him as his servant when he seemed so very near her age, so real, so...normal.
"My Lord," she bowed, nearly failing to show proper respect by addressing him as Tom.
"Good evening, Grace," he replied, and she felt her hair stand on end a shiver through her spine as he called her by her given name. He smiled at her, and stared down on her, his deep eyes of melted chocolate cold and unreadable as always.
"What do you wish?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. His smile widened, and he sauntered toward her. He was obviously pleased by her fear.
"You are a pretty girl, Grace Weasley," he said, a finger tracing her jaw line. It felt like fire on her skin, and she closed her eyes for a minute to keep the Occlumency in place.
"Th...Thank you, my Lord," she stuttered, trying not to let the disgust enter her voice. His eyes wandered down her body then back up in a way she did not at all like. He suddenly grabbed her wrists and pulled her closer. Their eyes were locked, and his face was so close she could feel his hot breath on her cheek.
"What do you want?" she whispered. He smiled again, lowering his mouth to her ear.
"I think you know what I want," he whispered huskily. Grace's eyes widened in fear. She twisted her wrists, trying with all her might to pull away, but in vain. He laughed and picked her up, carrying her to his bed.
He raped her as he did everything, quickly and efficiently. He left her lying naked and shivering, tears pouring down her face. An eternity of darkness passed as she lay there, waiting for the welcome arms of Death.
Eventually she stood, pulling on her tattered clothes with shaking hands. She found her wand in one piece and Apparated. She fell to her knees in the snow and threw up violently for several minutes, pain she had never known consuming her. Then she stood and ran, ran as she had never run before. She ran through the grounds and into the castle, which was just beginning to sleep. There were a few night owls in the common room, but she paid them little attention. She slammed the door to her dorm room, not caring who was awakened, and ran into the bathroom.
She turned the water on as hot as it would go and threw up again in the toilet before actually getting into the shower. The scalding water was doing nothing. Grabbing a washcloth Grace scrubbed her body until the skin was raw and bleeding, but she still felt filthy.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
James didn't begin to worry about Grace until lunch. He was used to eating breakfast alone by then and he knew Grace slept in occasionally and arrived in the afternoon, slightly embarrassed but none the worse for the extra sleep. However, she usually showed up in time for a meal.
He waited for her, watching the door through all his afternoon classes, unable to even think of somewhere she could possibly be. True, she had been acting strange lately, but this was entirely new.
By dinner he was seriously worried. He grabbed Angel and pulled her out of the swarm clamoring to reach their suppers in the Great Hall.
"Where's Gold?" he hissed.
"I don't know," she replied, her eyes widening, "I was going to ask YOU where she was!" James swore and Angel bit her lip. "I'll go upstairs and check the common room, okay? I'll meet you in the Great Hall. Okay...James?"
"Yeah, fine," he replied, waving somewhat distractedly. His mind was whirring, trying to solve this new enigma in his progressively more confusing friendship with Grace Weasley.
The thing was, he would daydream in class about their one kiss, remembering those few moments where he was kissing her and she was kissing him back and they were in love, if only in that teenaged, silly sense. He was dying for answers, wishing to know more than anything why she had run away.
It sounded incredibly egotistical and self-centered, and James almost felt bad thinking it, but he had assumed Grace had a crush on him and would be happy to return his feelings now that he had discovered them. He couldn't pinpoint the moment he realized he was head-over-heels for his best friend and his godfather's only daughter, but the time since then had an ongoing roller coaster of unpredictable emotional twists.
He sat down at the Gryffindor table and pushed the food around on his plate, wishing he could break into Grace's mind and figure out what was going on in there. He was just contemplating researching Legilimency when Angel ran into the Great Hall, plopping next to him and reaching for the beef.
"Well?" James demanded.
"She's sick," Angel rolled her eyes.
"Well then, why isn't she in the Hospital Wing?" James retorted.
"She says its just nausea or something," Angel replied, shrugging.
"But Madame Pomfrey can FIX that!" James cried, annoyed that he didn't understand when Angel obviously did.
"She doesn't want to bother, James, just leave her alone," she sighed. James glared and went back to pushing around his dinner.
He couldn't sleep that night. Just after midnight he gave up and threw on his bathrobe, sneaking down into the common with the feeble hope that the fire would help.
He didn't realize until he was at the bottom of the steps that Grace was already there. She was sitting on the sofa in front of the blazing fire, her arms wrapped around herself. He took a few tentative steps forward and realized that despite the fire's heat she was shivering.
"Grace?" he muttered. She jumped and spun around. The fire gave her face an eerie glow and her eyes seemed even more unnatural than usual in the darkness.
"Hey," she whispered.
"Do you mind if I sit down?" he asked, gesturing to the rest of the sofa. She shrugged, and he sat. There was a silence in which they both simply sat staring into the fire, lost in their own thoughts.
"Are you feeling better?" he finally asked.
"What?" she replied, sounding confused. "Oh. Right, that...a little better, I suppose."
The silence dragged on.
"Grace..." he said her name again, desperate for this night not to be wasted.
"What?" she asked, turning to meet his gaze. Her face and eyes were completely blank. He didn't know what to say to convey his meaning, so he simply acted on impulse and kissed her.
She went rigid as a bored as his lips brushed hers. His hand found her arm and it was stiff and unforgiving. He tried for a moment to make her react, but then realized her eyes were wide open and she was staring at him as if he were trying to kill her.
"Er...Grace, I-" But he got no further. Grace stood slowly, her hand on her mouth, her eyes still wide and staring down at him. She then turned and ran faster than anything he had ever seen up the stairs to the girl's dormitory. James sighed and turned his gaze back to the fire.
Looked like he had messed it up again.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Grace started going to class after that, but James and Angel's worries did not stop. She didn't pay any attention in class, or any where else for that matter, and she never ate that they could see. Angel whispered to James that to the best of her knowledge, she hadn't slept either.
Grace, for her part, didn't want sleep or food or anything that would bring her life. Her friends tried to make her go to the Hospital Wing, but she fought them off. Medicine was the last thing she wanted.
Severus was worried, and she knew it. He even took the risk of holding her after class. She told him she was tired, which was true. But it was not her reason for wanting to die.
She was trying to move on, trying to move past that...that...incident in the Northwest Tower of Flint Manor in January. But every time she closed her eyes, every time she heard a boy speak of a girl, every time she saw HIM...
Angel looked at her curiously, and Grace smiled for show. She was still an actress, after all, for that's all a spy is, really. An actor on the great stage of the illusion which so many people believed was reality. She smirked...there was that poetic streak again.
"Gold, eat SOMETHING, won't you?" Angel wheedled, holding out a piece of toast.
"I'm not hungry," she shrugged, forcing the bile in her throat to go down as she glanced at the food.
"If you're sick you should see Madame Pomfrey," James insisted for the hundredth time. Grace shrugged, not meeting his eye.
If there was one thing she wanted to avoid more than food, it was James. She knew all he wanted was some easy girl. That's how all men worked, she now realized. There seemed to be a great chasm separating her life before and after....It. And her crush on James, or anybody for that matter, was left on the other side of that expanse.
They had Care of Magical Creatures that morning, which required walking through the snow. James and Angel were looking forward to it. All the students loved Professor Weasley, who was promising to bring a baby dragon before the end of the year. The two of them got a little ahead of Grace, which was probably to be expected.
It wasn't until they were nearly at the hut that they realized she was gone. James turned, his blood running cold at what he saw.
For a moment he saw Grace, her fiery hair and black robes standing out against the pure snow. She was only about half way to the hut. Then, suddenly, he saw her fall.
He sprinted toward her, his mind racing with worry and dread. However, he was not the first person on the scene.
When he reached Grace, she was already being lifted into Professor Snape's arms. Looking up, James saw the man's face twisted with worry, nearly as pale as the girl in his arms. Angel and Professor Weasley soon joined them with the rest of the class, nudging each other for a better view.
"What's wrong with her, Severus?" Weasley demanded.
"I don't know, but she needs medical attention desperately," he replied. "She's freezing." James heard a soft moan from his friend and started forward, trying desperately to see if she was okay.
"Grace?" he demanded.
"Daddy?" she whispered, looking around in confusion.
"Sh," Snape commanded harshly. Grace looked up at him, then around at her classmates and uncle, clearly bewildered. Then her eyes widened and she began to weep.
"What's going on?" Weasley demanded angrily.
"I don't know," he repeated again. "But we have to get her out of the snow."
With that Professor Severus Snape turned and marched into the castle, his apprentice in his arms.