"I Can't Let You Love Me" chapter 8
At the end of an hour Phoebe was barely able to stand under her own power, but stand she did. She smiled at the grim irony that had occurred to her during her "initiation." In a twisted way her parents were protecting her now as they never had as a child. The constant abuse she had suffered at their hands had given her the strength and stamina to stand up under the torture administered by Voldemort, Malfoy, and the sniveling little man with a silver hand.
She knew that these things were not merely an "initiation." They were designed to test her loyalties. They were designed to so weaken her physically and mentally that she would be unable to lie or pretend. Things didn't always work the way they were intended to, she noted with grim satisfaction. That truth potion, for instance, was pathetic. Yes, it had created a desire in her to be open and honest. True, it had made it more difficult to lie. It had not made it impossible.
Phoebe gave herself a mental shake. She must not indulge in these thoughts, not here, not now. There was no telling what Voldemort's capacity to read thought was! She needed to be more careful. She turned her thoughts forcibly back to the insignificant details of the barren moor around her, the clothing of the men with her, the details of Voldemort's horrid appearance, the need to keep standing...
She was very good at separating her mind from what was happening to her body, and it was just as well for things only got worse over the next half hour. Finally, Voldemort stepped in front of her, a hideous parody of a smile on his snake-like features.
"Well, done, Taylor," he hissed, "You will stand up to the Aurors very well, I think. Hold out your arms," He commanded suddenly.
When Phoebe did he grasped her left arm and touched his wand tip to it. Her flesh sizzled as the Dark Mark literally burned its way into her arm from the place where the wand touched it. It hurt like hell but her mind had moved past detachment and was almost completely separated from what was going on. A logical part of it wondered if she was in physical shock.
When the image of the skull with the snake emerging from its mouth had finally formed Voldemort removed his wand, but did not let go. Instead, he lay a spidery finger to the mark and Phoebe's mind was jerked back as the mark burned anew.
In Dumbledore's office Snape gasped as his grabbed his left arm. He pulled back the sleeve of his robe and stared with at the dark mark burning black. He looked at Dumbledore and back to the mark. "You know what I must do." he said grimly.
"Yes," Dumbledore said gravely, "Go at once, do not waste time."
Without a further word Snape rose and moved swiftly out of the office. He headed out of the castle and took the most direct route off the grounds so he could apparate to answer Voldemort's summons.
The time it took to get off the grounds so he was able to apparate made him one of if not the last of the Death Eaters to arrive on the moor. The others stood in a circle around a fire. Within the circle Snape could see Voldemort and the white-blond hair of Malfoy. As he walked up to take his place he could see there were two others. A glint of silver told him one was likely Wormtail. As for the other person... he really didn't care to think about it.
Yet, as he took his place in the circle he didn't need to. Reality slapped him hard in the face. It was Phoebe and she looked considerably the worse for wear. Still she stood tall and her eyes flashed defiantly. Voldemort had turned to watch Snape join the circle and a thin smile curled his flat lips.
"You look surprised, Severus," he said softly, "I take it you recognize our new Death Eater?"
Snape scowled and focused on his anger rather than his despair.
"Indeed," growled with a sudden burst of inspiration, "I know her and I am surprised, my
lord. I believed myself to be alone at Hogwarts. Forgive me, my lord, I still need to be convinced that is not so."
"Such mistrust, such suspicion," Voldemort tutted, "Still, our Ms. Taylor also appears to be less than fond of you. Even this, I suspect, will work to our advantage." With that Voldemort turned and began to sweep around the circle of Death Eaters speaking of other matters. It seemed to Severus that this little "session" might never end. At last, however, it did.
As the Death Eaters began to disapparate, Voldemort's voice floated over to Severus, "Snape, a word." Snape scowled at the form of Phoebe and watched her disapparate as he walked over to Voldemort.
"Professor Taylor will be a valuable addition to our ranks," Voldemort began, "Take her in hand and keep a very close eye on her."
"Yes, my lord," Severus intoned... and Voldemort was gone with a sweep of his wand. Snape stood there for a moment as the last of the men and women disapparated. Then he took a deep breath and waved his wand.
Phoebe had made it back into the woods that marked the border of the Hogwarts grounds; but she hadn't gotten much further. She leaned up against a tree and held on to it with both hands trying very hard not to retch. Now that it was over, a rush of physical and emotional pain had overwhelmed her. Severus had been correct, she hadn't known what she was getting into. She knew now. Slowly, using the tree to brace herself, she lowered herself to the ground and let herself lean against the trunk, fighting the urge to cry.
A flash of light caught her eye and she looked up. A thin beam of light was moving swiftly back and forth among the trees and shrubs. Wandlight. Severus? Hagrid? Malfoy again? She winced at the thought. The beam hit her in the face and she screwed her eyes shut as she heard footsteps moving swiftly toward her. She'd find out in less than a second who it was.
"Phoebe?" an uncertain voice said. It was Severus. She looked up into his face and found so many emotions playing across it, she was at a loss to read it.
"What have you done?" he asked, "What have you done?"
" I'm going to help defeat him or die trying."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Severus breathed, "Oh, Phoebe, why?"
"Because I have nothing left to lose," she said dully, " I am committed to fighting him in the hope that we'll both live long enough to see his end," she coughed harshly and tasted blood in her mouth before finishing, "his end and our beginning. I told you I'd rather die..." She started coughing again. "Dammit!" she managed as she fought the cough back down.
Severus' head was reeling and he could feel his heart hammering hard in his chest. He didn't know what to feel: horrified? outraged? frightened? moved? shocked? despairing? He put his head back to take a deep breath and noticed the scattered pieces of the sky visible through the tree tops had changed from black to navy blue. It would be dawn soon. There was time enough to sort out feelings later. At the moment they needed to get back to the castle before anyone was awake to see them return.
Secrecy was the key to his... and now Phoebe's... success and safety. True Death Eaters would maintain secrecy at all costs and so must they. The only one who could know was Dumbledore. He needed to know as soon as possible.
"Phoebe," He asked, "Can you walk? The sun will be rising soon. We need to get back."
Phoebe nodded silently and took a deep breath. Her hands fumbled on the tree trunk, seeking to use it to push herself up when Severus grasped her under the arms to help her rise. She clenched her jaw hard as he pulled her to her feet. She stood still for a moment, breathing hard, then she nodded. Severus began to help her make the slow journey back to the castle.
The sky was growing lighter as they reached the castle and went straight down to the dungeons. Most of the staff had returned to bed hours ago, when it was clear Voldemort wasn't around. Dumbledore had wisely not made them aware there was another problem. The castle was silent as they made their way to Phoebe's rooms... "as silent as a tomb," Severus thought with a grimace.
As soon as her door closed Phoebe made her way carefully to her couch and Severus strode to the fireplace, lit a fire with his wand, and took a ceramic jar from the mantle. He threw a handful of glittering powder into the flames and called,
"Albus, a word please!"
Dumbledore came whirling into the fireplace and emerged, absently dusting soot from his robes. He strode over to an extraordinarily pale Phoebe at once and crouched in front of her.
"Phoebe," he said carefully, "Are you alright?" She nodded.
"What happened, Phoebe?" he asked. In answer she thrust out her left arm and pulled back the sleeve of her robe to reveal the ugly charred Dark Mark. Dumbledore looked grim. "How?" he asked.
A hint of defiance lit Phoebe's eyes as she replied, "I volunteered."
"Why?"
"There is no true life for me while Voldemort has power. I'm going to help bring him down or die trying."
Dumbldore rose and walked to the fireplace, standing there silently for a few moments. Finally he turned back to Phoebe.
"Much though I wish you had discussed this with me, what has been done cannot be undone."
"Indeed," Phoebe noted dryly.
"We must now decide how to use the situation to help in the struggle against Voldemort, and we need to figure out how to keep you from dying in the effort. Who, besides Severus and myself know what has happened?"
"No one but the death eaters who were present. Lucius Malfoy is the one who got me in so I don't know if he will have mentioned it to Draco. Since Voldemort wants me to spy on you and Severus," she said with sigh, "I rather doubt it, the boy might 'blow my cover' as they say."
"Can you tell me what happened last evening and this morning?"
Phoebe didn't want to. She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to feel it. She wanted to sleep and escape the pain, even for a short time. Nonetheless she told Dumbledore, as succinctly as possible, what had happened.
"Phoebe," Dumbledore said very gently, "By what means did they torture you?"
Severus, who had been listening intently, stiffened at the question, but Phoebe appeared not to have noticed. She looked at Dumbledore with empty eyes and said,
"Physical." she said flatly.
"They beat you, then?" Dumbledore asked in the same gentle tone. Phoebe nodded.
"Anything else?"
"Nothing I'd care to discuss," Phoebe said looking at the floor.
"Did they use magic?"
"Yes."
"I see." Dumbledore said sadly, taking a breath. "Phoebe, I'd very much like to have you see Poppy Pomfrey but I know that wouldn't be wise."
"I don't think there is anything wrong with me that rest won't cure. I should be able to manage by Monday and you'll have to let me because you 'don't' know anything."
"I'm afraid you are correct," Dumbledore said heavily, "I will come back through the fireplace late this evening to check on you."
Phoebe thought about telling him it was not necessary, but didn't. Dumbledore left the way he came and Severus moved to stand in front of Phoebe.
"Don't." she said.
"Don't what?"
"Don't yell at me or argue with me. Not now."
"I didn't intend to. I was going to offer to help you to your bed."
"Thank you." Pheobe said quietly and allowed Severus to, once again, help her up and guide her into the next room. She lay down on top of the bedclothes, pulling the quilt folded at the bottom over her.
Severus sat at the edge of the bed and she did not ask him to go. Instead she let him put his arm around her. She curled into him, trying to ignore the screaming nerves in her body and the screaming memories in her mind.
