Oblivious Betrayal
The two men had been talking for some time when they heard a soft tapping coming form the window. Dumbledore was the first to spot the source of the sound and walk over to the window and open it. Moments later, a snowy white owl glided into the room to perch next to Severus on the bed.
Somberly, the owl stretched out its leg toward Severus, who recognized, unmistakably, the delicate scrawl on the letter front. With shaky hands, Severus detached the letter from the owl's leg, and carefully broke the seal on the back. His eyes scanned the contents for several minutes in silence. When he had finished, a look of intense anger came over his face, and, in one violent motion, he had crushed the paper in his immense fists. The movement startled Hedwig, who rose clumsily in the air to land again on the dresser.
A loud groan escaped Severus's lips as he let the crumpled wad fall to the floor. Throwing himself back on the bed, he covered his face with his hands. "Oh! I'm such a fool, why didn't I see it before. It's all my fault!" And with that, he slammed his fists down on the bed, causing it to shake violently.
Dumbledore, also somewhat alarmed by Severus's sudden movements, stood and slowly approached him. Standing next to the bed, he caught Severus's fist just as it was about to come down on the mattress again. Jolted by the block of his strike, Severus lifted his head to look at Dumbledore. "Severus, what is it? What's in that letter that has you so upset."
Severus sat back up, burying his head in his hands in a gesture of despair. Another muffled groan escaped his lips; "it all makes sense now. The reason the Death Eater raids are so random is that they aren't to accomplish anything beyond drawing attention to us. He wanted the full force of the ministry to be used on stopping our raids while he… while he…" But Severus's voice trailed off, as he could not bare to finish the sentence.
But Dumbledore finished it for him, "while he quietly, and cleanly wipes out me, Harry, and Deidra." At this, Severus's head shot up, his eyes wide with horror.
"Deidra?! Why would he hurt Deidra, he hates you, and Harry, but why Deidra!" These last words came out as a whimper.
"Because Severus, she is the most powerful wizard in Britain, after myself. And like Harry, she too is, or was, an immune victim to one of Voldemort's murders." Dumbledore had sat down on the bed next to Severus, and all at once he looked very worn and tired.
Severus looked over at Dumbledore, his voice shaky, "but, but if she's an immune victim, then, then he can't kill her, she'll be safe."
Albus shook his head sadly, what a fool he'd been, to leave his only child alone in the hands of the enemy. Severus was right, the Death Eater activity was just bait. Now Deidra was trapped, and he did not know if he could reach her in time, if anyone could. "No Severus, when Voldemort used Harry's blood to revive himself, he rendered all immunities useless. Deidra is just as helpless as Harry should Voldemort get hold of her."
Severus felt stricken, he'd left Deidra alone, now she was on her own, and if they didn't do something soon, that school was like to become her grave. Yet, he didn't know what they could do, what any one wizard could do against Voldemort.
Both men were caught in a dreadful mental limbo. Each horrified at the thought of Deidra sitting at Hogwarts, trapped like a rat, waiting for Voldemort to strike. Yet neither could think of any way to protect her.
Once again, seized by an impulse, Severus bolted off the bed and over to the dresser. He furiously began wrenching open drawers, (once again unsettling Hedwig, who, this time, opted to fly into the other room to wait for the men to finish whatever it was that they were doing.) And throwing the contents onto the bed. Dumbledore moved out of the way of the volley of robes and pants.
"Severus, what in God's name are you doing?" Dumbledore's eyes followed the flow of clothing as Severus continued emptying his drawers.
"I'm packing," Severus said gruffly. "I don't care if we can't do anything to stop Voldemort, I'm not going to sit here and pretend like nothing's happening! I'm going back there to do what I can, you do as you like." But when he turned around, Albus had already left the room, and by the sound of it, he was doing the same in his room as Severus was here.
A few moments later Dumbledore reappeared in the doorway, a small sack slung over his shoulder. "Well, come on boy, if you want to get back and help we have to move fast."
Severus smirked, but continued packing his things. If they wouldn't be running the risk of being discovered, he'd have left all the excess and just left right then and there. All that mattered right now was getting back to Deidra.
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Deidra paced the, now empty halls of Hogwarts. All the students had been moved to the vaults below the dungeons, and most of the teachers with them. Minerva had not returned yet, and there had been no reply from Severus or her father. So, she was on her own then. She had to have a plan, as futile as it might be, Deidra needed to have some set plan of action to make her feel better. Which was why she was now pacing the halls, trying to recall all that her father and Minerva had taught her about dark forces and their counters.
She desperately reached for something that she had been taught that might prove useful in fighting Voldemort. But this search soon proved in vain. There was no spell, or potion, or charm that she'd ever been taught that could stand up to the likes of a dark magic like Voldemort's. Leaving that avenue of thought, she turned to what she knew of Voldemort himself. She felt like a blacksmith, searching for chinks in what seemed like, an invincible set of armor.
What did she know about his past? He'd been an only child, and a half-breed. He'd murdered his parents and shortly after begun to gather his dark legion. He'd met his down fall the first time in Harry Potter, because of the immunity his mother's love had given him. But that immunity was now worthless, because it had been Harry's blood that had helped Voldemort to return. And he used raw force in almost all his magic.
That was it! Raw force! Voldemort's came mostly from his raw force, because he was, at best, a mediocre wizard. But, by funneling the immense power of his hate, he became an indestructible force. So if she used an opposite raw force, she could counter, perhaps even destroy, Voldemort.
But there was only one problem, Voldemort directed the power of his raw force at the destruction of actual people, her father, the Potter boy, his parents, and the countless other victims of his rage. So the raw force she would have to use to defeat him must come from an opposite emotion directed at him. In other words, she had to find some way to absolutely love Voldemort in order to destroy him, because he would be using his hate of her to destroy her.
This put a snag in Deidra's idea, there was no way in the world that she could make herself even considered liking Voldemort. He had killed her mother, along with countless others. He had ruined lives aplenty, and he had severed her from her only love. She hated Voldemort, probably even more than he hated her. But, perhaps it did not have to be her who made the kill. Anyone could use raw forces, the only difficulty was in finding someone who loved Voldemort enough to channel a raw force powerful enough to combat his hate.
Deidra racked her brains long and hard to find someone who would love Voldemort. In the end there was only one person in the entire world who she could think of that might be able to love a man so truly evil as Voldemort. There was only one problem, that person was dead. She had died at the hand of Voldemort long ago, indeed, she had been the first. Yes, the only person who could love pure evil, would be the one who breeds it in the first place.
And with that Deidra rushed to the library, she needed to find a book on binding.
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Lucious dared a look into the cold, red eyes of his lord as he handed him the pouch he had found on the ground on his way back to the Shrieking Shack. "And you are sure, you are sure that it is Severus's, because if it is not, you will suffer richly." Voldemort was fingering the lock of hair that he had found in the pouch.
"I have never failed you before my lord. I can assure you, it is Severus's." Lucious bowed his head while he spoke, he did not wish to invoke Voldemort's anger, save it for Snape, that turncoat! At that thought Lucious's lips curled into a vindictive sneer.
"Why are you sneering, Lucious?" Voldemort's eyes flashed dangerously, he could sense deceit like a bloodhound, and at Malfoy's sneer, his senses flared.
"I was only thinking of how grand it will be when you finally have your triumph over Dumbledore and his lot." Lucious was smooth, his contempt for Snape had almost bubbled to the surface in the shadow of his imminent downfall. But he was not in the clear yet, for Voldemort's face still maintained the look of a police dog who knows his hunt is almost at an end.
Voldemort's now, massive fist, crashed down, stopping barely an inch from Malfoy's left shoulder. "I will not tolerate such talk in my presence Lucious! NEVER let me hear speak like that again!"
Lucious cringed on the floor. He tried to stutter an apology, but was cut short by a gesture from his lord. Voldemort rose and swept past the now cowering figure of Lucious and walked to the window. "I will not fail this time Lucious, I will not stand for it. Since we have the upper hand, the only way we might fail is if we become careless, over-confident. This must not happen Lucious, which is why, I will hear no such talk in my presence."
Lucious knew, just because Voldemort was turned away from him, didn't mean he couldn't see him. So at the end of Voldemort's speech, Lucious inclined his head, and began to back out of the room. But, just before he'd reached the door, Voldemort signaled him forward.
"Yes, my lord," Lucious said in a guarded voice.
"How forgetful you are, Malfoy," the dark lord said, still not turning his head. "We have only a few hours, and there is a potion yet to be brewed."
"Yes my lord," Lucious bowed again and once again began to back out. "I shall hasten to do your biding." And with that he left.
Voldemort stood still looking out on Hogsmead for a few moments after he heard the catch of the door. Then he turned and watched the light play on the lock of hair he still held in his hand. "Yes, yes, hurry, we have fourteen years of retribution to collect. Ah Severus, I knew you would be of use, one way, or another." And with that, the Dark Lord let out a high pitched evil laugh and crushed the lock between his thin fingers.
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Deidra had been sifting through books in every section of the library all afternoon. She had almost given up hope when, in the last isle of the restriction she tripped over an old faded book that's binding was crumbling. She tried to turn it sideways to read the title, but the leather was so faded, that she couldn't read. So she opened the cover and flipped to the third page. Her heart gave a leap when she read the large bold words, "MELDINGS, COMBINATIONS, AND BINDINGS."
This was what she needed, and, plopping down right there in the middle of the isle and began thumbing through the pages. She read things that, under normal circumstances, would have held her focus for hours. But they were not what she needed, and so, she moved on.
It took her about a half-hour before she found the chapter she needed. Her eyes traveled greedily down page after page, consuming every piece of knowledge she could.
When, at last she knew what she had to do, she snapped the book shut triumphantly. It was very risky, but in her heart, Deidra knew it was the only way. Now, all she had to do was figure out a way to lure him out there. There had to be away. Deidra would just have to appeal to a certain side of him. Whether it was his ego, or his cruel nature, she wasn't sure, but there had to be away.
Standing, Deidra stretched her muscles that had become very cramped from hours of crouching and squatting. As she rolled her neck, something out the window caught her eye. Coming closer, she could make out the approaching shapes of two men.
At least she thought they were two men. All that she could really see were two figures. One draped from head to toe in a royal purple cloak with a wide hood that made it impossible to see its face. And the other, the other was draped in all black and wore no hood at all, though the wind was blowing fiercely that morning.
Deidra opened the window and strained out to see the two figures clearer. What she saw now made her heart leap. For, as they approached the castle, Deidra could see that the figure clad in all black was Severus! That meant that the other figure had to be her father, she should have recognized his cape before that. They were back! Severus was here, her father was here, and together, they would find some way of defeating Voldemort and keeping the school and its occupants safe.
Rushing out of the library, Deidra all but flew down the numerous staircases as she made her way to the front entrance. When she reached the door, without any hesitation, she threw the doors wide. The two men made their way up the steps and inside, Severus first and Dumbledore behind, closing and bolting the door behind him.
Deidra threw herself into Severus's arms and buried her face in his shoulder. His arms encircled her, rather tighter than usual, but Deidra didn't mind all she wanted was for him to never let her go. "I didn't think you'd be able to get her in time," she whispered into his shoulder. "But I'm glad you did."
"And so am I," said Severus. But when he spoke, he didn't sound like Severus, his voice was higher than usual, and his tone seemed thin and reedy, not at all like the thick, deep throated growling sound that usually accompanied Severus's speech.
His arms were murderously tight now, and he'd begun to laugh, and as he laughed, his voice got higher and higher. Deidra drew her head back to look at his face, and what she saw almost made her die right then and there. Before her eyes, Severus's face began to meld and change, change into the face of… Voldemort.
Deidra tried to scream, but the figure that she had taken to be her father had come around behind her, and now clamped his hand around her mouth. Voldemort was laughing hysterically now, his fingers biting into the flesh of Deidra's arms as he held her prisoner. "To think," he said in between shrieks of laughter. "To think, that one of the greatest wizards in all Great Britain could be fooled by a mere student's trick!"
He looked straight into her eyes then, his cold with a murderous glint. "It just proves that you're a sentimental, trusting fool. Just like your father. Yes, thanks to the wonderful mishaps of heredity, by the end of the day I shall be rid of you both."
Struggling furiously, Deidra tried to free herself from the two pairs of hands that now had a death grip on her. More out of frustration than anything else, she bit down as hard as she could on the hand that silenced her mouth. Momentarily it with drew, and Deidra heard a yowl of pain from behind her hand. Seizing her moment of opportunity she gathered all the hate, disgust, and contempt she held for the man before her in the back of her throat. And letting go of her self-control, she spit straight into his face.
Voldemort drew back and dragged the sleeve of his rove across his face to remove her spittle. "Now, now Deidra, that wasn't nice." Within moments he'd pulled out his wand and waved it before her, shouting "Bindestra!"
As he lowered his wand, steel bands clamped Deidra's limbs to her body. She fell to the floor, unable to keep her balance. "Lucious, you'd best prepare for our other guests and leave Miss Dumbledore to me." He looked down at Deidra his filled with a shadowy foreboding look.
He raised his wand once more, "Enavate!" Deidra was upright again, floating a few inches above the ground.
"Are you going to kill me," she asked, trying to sound brave and defiant as she knew her father would have done.
Voldemort laughed again, "why of course my dear, that was the point of all this. I sick to death of your father and his meddling manner. So, I shall kill you first, that will bring him to his knees, and then he'll be ripe for the slaying." Voldemort snapped his head back to look straight at Deidra, "but surely a woman as educated and wise as you are said to be would have known that."
Deidra shuddered, trying to keep her temper in check. She still had her plan; she could still use it, if she kept her head. "Kill me then, all I ask is one thing." She tried to sound more compliant; to pull this off she must be a superb actor.
Voldemort stroked his wand lovingly, "I'm not inclined to grant requests, but I will hear yours, it is only fair."
"All I ask," Deidra swallowed the lumps that were rapidly forming in her throat, "is that you don't kill me in here, kill me in a proper place."
"And what would you consider a proper place?" Voldemort sneered; he was tiring of the insolent young woman who thought herself his equal.
"At your parents grave." She looked him straight in the eye, now she had to put the finishing touches on this masquerade. "So that when my body is found they'll know, they'll know who killed them and me."
"Such poetic justice for our little heroine, our little martyr." Voldemort hissed and spat on the floor. "Very well, I shall do you this last service, not that it will do anything for your cause. But, because no matter how you die, you do me a great service, I shall do this for you."
He walked back over to the doors, unbolted them, and opened one. He jerked his wand toward the outside and Deidra's body responded by moving towards him. He walked down the steps and along the path, heading for the forest and the outskirts of the village, Deidra's body following behind. Stretching his arms Voldemort looked around at their surroundings. "Ah! What a day to die."
Deidra remained silent; she must play the helpless victim to make this work. He'll pay soon enough, she thought, and silently began going over what it was she had to do.