Wishes

By: Airelle Vilka

Chapter 24 Unveiled

"Ohh…" Airelle's first sound upon awakening was a groan. Her vision was still blurry, but she sat up nonetheless.

"That was one nasty Stunning Curse… OW!"

"Watch your hea—too late," came Snape's voice from somewhere behind her. Airelle blinked once, twice, regained her sight, and found herself staring at a dozen metal, vertical bars.

"Are you all right, Professor?" asked Tracy, patting Airelle's shoulder.

"Fine, peachy," she muttered, massaging the lump on her forehead and looking backwards. They were in a damp, windowless room, with barren stone walls that reminded Airelle, disturbingly, of Almathea's bath. It had a low ceiling and a few candles on the floor outside the bars, so she could see her companions' faces only in dim light. Aside from herself, Tracy, and Snape, Ron Weasley and Alica Tylon were also sitting in the cage, leaning against the wall. Snape looked worse than any of them—his face was so pale that Airelle could've sworn he was a corpse.

Instinctively, she reached inside her robes.

"Don't bother," said Snape, and his voice sounded strangely hollow. "They've taken the wands."

Stifling a curse, Airelle stood up. "Were all of you unconscious?"

Ron nodded and ran a hand through his fiery red hair, which was damp with sweat. "I think so, since we have no idea where we are."

She turned around and looked out through the bars again. The rest of the room was empty, and there was a door on the other side, directly across from them. A thin stream of light radiated from the crack between it and the floor.

"Damn," she said, and clenched her fists. "Damn it to smithereens."

"My main problem," said Snape suddenly, but it was almost as if he were talking to himself, "was figuring out how our friend out there got into the school. Now, I know."

"Well, it's a little too late for that, hmm?" snapped Airelle. "God, I wish we told Dumbledore… we would not be in this mess…"

Snape did not reply, and Airelle sighed, exhausted. It was not a good idea to speculate on what might have happened; now, they needed to take drastic action.

"What're we going to do?" asked Alica, staring up at Airelle and Snape. Tracy raised her head out of her lap as well.

"She's right, Professor. We have to get out of here."

Airelle saw Snape bite his lip; he did not look vicious anymore at all. This was bad, very bad, when his exterior attitude matched the interior.

"I do not see how," he said after a while. "The locks are sealed magically; we won't escape without our wands. That is—unless—"

"Unless someone opens the cage for you…which won't happen, of course," said a new voice, whose owner had just opened the door across from them. He was flanked by two faceless, silent Death Eaters.

"Leave us, and guard the door," ordered Neville Longbottom, lowering his crimson hood and surveying the five people behind the bars that separated them. Everyone but Snape had sprung to their feet and stepped close to the metal, scowling. The Death Eaters nodded and swept out, leaving Neville alone with the prisoners.

"My, my," he smirked, folding his arms across his black robes, "what a charming little congregation. Are we enjoying ourselves?"

"Open the lock, and I'll show you enjoyment, you cowardly bastard," snarled Tracy, stepping forward. Neville did not look amused.

"It would be best," he murmured casually, drawing his wand and twirling it around in his fingers, "for you professors to teach your student to keep her mouth shut. That is, if you want her to stay alive a little longer."

Tracy shrank back a little, but the glare did not disappear from her face. Airelle placed a hand on her shoulder that said silently, 'Wait until our odds are even.'

There was silence, during which Airelle perused Neville quietly. Finally, she said, "What did you do with him?"

"Oh, you mean your little klutz of a pupil?" he asked, and it was scary to see Neville's face contorted into such a grimace. "Once I had that fruitcake, it was painfully simple. In fact, you with your kind words and penchant for him made it all too easy for me to win." He chuckled. "It was even easier than subduing Miss Delilah Haze."

"Where is he?" inquired Snape through gritted teeth. If this weren't such a serious situation, Airelle would have smiled. Did Snape actually care for Longbottom, the boy who'd wreaked havoc in every Potions class he'd ever attended?

Neville laughed. "I can't believe you people, honestly. You fell for the oldest trick in the book—I transfigured him, much like the ill-fated Barty Crouch did with his late father. Only… I did something more ornamental that a mere bone… I actually decorated."

With that, he reached into his robes again. Airelle and the others watched as something long and silver spilled from his neck – a necklace, with a gleaming pendant on the end. It was the very same one she had seen hanging on his nightshirt the night after the Yule Ball. Oh, what a fool she'd been.

"You were a tad rash to assume this was a family heirloom, Ms. Vilka," he said, fingering the beast curling around the letters 'NL' and a crest. "And to think—I gave you the very thing you needed to expose me—I TOLD you what the necklace was—Neville Longbottom. See the initials?"

"Very amusing," growled Airelle, gripping the bars. "Now give him back."

He paused. "Hmm…yes, well… I suppose I don't need him anymore… After all, you'll die anyway, might as well put him in with you." Ripping off the necklace, he threw it into the cage, resulting in it landing near Airelle's feet with a clang.

"Enjoy." He raised his wand and uttered, "Finite Incantatem!"

The pendant began to glow a sickly yellow, and everyone stepped back. In front of their eyes, the silver beast depicted on it began changing. Its legs grew, the claws turned into fingers—and in a minute, there was a naked, pudgy figure shivering on the stone floor. Airelle stepped forward and wrapped the real Neville Longbottom's unconscious body into her traveling cloak. Then, she glared up at the person outside the bars.

"Had your fun here, did you?" she hissed, eyes narrowed.

He laughed. "Oh, indeed. But the real fun is just beginning."

"What do you want?" asked Snape, now rising off the floor, his eyes glittering dangerously.

"That shall, I'm afraid, not be explained to you, until Ms. Vilka and I return to Hogwarts. But then again, maybe you won't find out until it's too late for you to care."

Airelle wanted to ask if it had something to do with the notebooks, but kept silent. No need to give the guy new ideas.

"Oh, speaking of late…" said the impostor, looking at his watch, "I believe my Polyjuice Potion's wearing off…"

And sure enough, slowly, he began to change just as the necklace had. His face turned from Neville's chubby one to a thin one, his fingers lengthened, his form straightened; and soon, Airelle was looking at one of the most gorgeous men she had ever laid eyes on.

He was lean and pale, almost majestic-looking, with elongated, experienced fingers and an angular face. His eyes were a dark, swirled hazel, and his chocolate-brown hair spilled to his waist over the red hood and black robes. Overall, he looked like he'd just stepped out of one of Thelma Torridson's infamous Wizard Erotica novels. There was no denying it; he was beautiful, and worthy of the staring fit Airelle was experiencing. But if one looked closely, at his eyes… the beauty was lost. There was something consuming them from the inside out, like a larva ruining a fruit. Airelle could not compare this man to Snape, not in the least. Then again, perhaps it was because she loved Snape to bits, but that was beside the point.

"Noah Lieton," said Snape darkly. "I should've known."

The man bowed. "You recognize me after all these years, Severus. Pity you have to be a traitor to the Dark Lord… otherwise, you would've been on the other side of these bars."

Alica and Tracy stared at Snape, mouthing wordlessly. Airelle caught their eye and shook her head in a 'not now' gesture. The two Ravenclaws would learn many secrets tonight… although there was a doubt as to if they'd live to tell them. Ron Weasley, on the other hand, did not look shocked; Airelle guessed he had already found out from Harry Potter. How did Harry know about Snape's past? Right now was not the time to wonder.

"I wouldn't stand with you if you paid me," the Potions Master snarled, and Airelle decided to give him an innumerably large number of points in her book for that one.

Noah smirked. "Well, well, acting brave, are we? My Lord was right in his statements—you really HAVE turned into a goody-two-shoes."

"Better a goody-two-shoes than a murderer," said Airelle in a soft, deadly tone, and the hazel eyes turned on her.

"Hold your tongue, ex-Auror," replied Noah icily. "You are responsible for Severus's deflection to Dumbledore's side, aren't you? Did your dear friend's conscience get a hold of him years ago? Tsk, tsk… not good for a Death Eater."

"So it was Voldemort who sent you," said Snape, and Noah nodded with a smile.

"Absolutely. I'm not a vigilante, like he said to you at that fabricated Death Eater meeting. All of us were in on it, and knew you were lying. Did you actually think the great Dark Lord believed you after Barty Crouch's demise? He reaccepted you, knowing you were a turncoat, and used you as a pawn in his plans. Plans that, thanks to you all, shall take place with my help."

Neville was beginning to awaken. Airelle, realizing the Gryffindor boy was shaking, took Snape's cloak and covered him with it as well, to stop him from contracting hypothermia. Meanwhile, Alica and Tracy moved backwards, but still listened to the conversation between Snape and the Death Eater.

"Voldemort told you to kidnap us?" asked Snape.

"Certainly. I had really planned on only catching Ms. Vilka inside the school, but it was too risky. Besides, Severus, you knew too much anyway."

"You used Delilah in your game as well," said Airelle bitterly as Neville shivered in her arms. Noah Lieton sniggered.

"She was easy," he said acidly. "All I had to do was overhear in a bar that she was going to work at Hogwarts, and that was it. The girl was my ticket there. I cornered her in an alley and placed the Imperius Curse on her."

"And went with her to Hogwarts, as a pet parrot on her shoulder," said Snape. "You're an unregistered Animagus, Noah."

"Very good… awful shame you didn't discover it sooner. Shame for you, that is. Funny," he continued, "my Master's original plan was to kill you, Severus, inside Hogwarts, and take on your appearance."

"And when Voldemort would attack the school," growled Airelle, "you'd be there as an insider, a double agent whom not even Dumbledore suspected."

"That's right. And dear Snape here would die knowing I was impersonating him, and all his precious plans would crumble. That's my Lord's punishment for a traitor to our cause…humiliation, then death. Oh, certainly, in Neville's body, I could have killed Potter directly, but it would be too risky for me to get out of school afterwards… and besides," he added quietly, "I want that pleasure to be my Lord's alone. My job was to kill Dumbledore. Potter, and the whole of Hogwarts is nothing without their precious Headmaster."

Ron glared at Noah. Airelle wondered how he must have felt, sleeping in the same dormitory with a Death Eater for four months and not knowing.

"So," said Noah, "I had Delilah bring me to Hogwarts on the day of the Yule Ball. From there, I began… looking for a body. Delilah left that werewolf professor of yours," –("Werewolf?!" Tracy and Alica gasped)—"and we encountered your little friend in the corridors. I placed him under the Imperius Curse as well."

"And told them both to go to the Forbidden Forest," Snape cut in, gripping the bars so hard his knuckles turned white.

"Exactly, Poirot," Noah grinned, and leaned on the wall. "I transformed back into my regular self, stunned the boy unconscious, and planned to do a Memory Wipe on Ms. Haze."

"Killing her would be too dangerous, wouldn't it?" asked Airelle, understanding the whole thing now. "You wanted her to continue working at Hogwarts as if nothing had ever happened."

"That's correct, Ms. Vilka. I plucked some hair from Longbottom's head and put it into a ready Polyjuice Potion, which I drank. Once the transformation ended in success, I transfigured the boy into my necklace—needed to keep him close, you see, for the hair, and of course, to learn more of his habits—and then, planned to work on Ms. Haze."

"When she somehow recovered from the Imperius Curse you put on her, and struck back."

"Exactly. That little brat caused me so much nuisance…without her intervention, I could've gotten my job done sooner than usual… in any case, I was faster, and Stunned her before she could do anything. However, now people had heard her scream, and I was momentarily out of luck."

"So you panicked, and tried to wipe her memory, in addition to doing a medley of other hexes. And then, an idea came to you, and you decided to hurt yourself."

"That's right. I screamed in Neville's voice, bruised and cut myself, and waited for you to arrive. And arrive you did, Ms. Vilka, and I couldn't have been more delighted. When I put Neville under the Imperius Curse for the first time, he told me a great deal about you, you see. Seems he liked you a lot. Helped him to fly and everything, eh?"

Airelle's eyes narrowed to slits again.

"Hmm…what happened then? Ah, yes, I fed you that cock-and-bull story about the Dark Mark… then, you took me to the infirmary… it was quite interesting that no one suspected me there. Dumbledore must be losing his touch. Anyway, I was free… and then, I knew I had to kill Delilah; she knew too much. The problem lay in doing it without anyone seeing me. And then, you, Severus, were summoned by my Master on Christmas."

"He made all his Death Eaters play along to make me think he trusted me."

"That's right," said Noah. "He told you that silly 'vigilante' tale."

"And afterwards," said Airelle, remembering the weeks gone by, "you just bided your time."

"Excellent. Finally, one sweet day I got you out of the dungeons to talk to Potter outside, and headed towards the infirmary. I would have killed her, too, if it weren't for that stupid pet Kneazle of Pomfrey's…"

"And now, everyone knew you were still nearby."

"Yes, indeed," Noah laughed. "It was hysterically ironic, too—to think that Dumbledore wanted to keep an eye on me, thinking I would be attacked—when in reality, I was the attacker! It actually was the reason that I kept quiet until Easter vacation—those damned security trolls wouldn't give me the time of day."

Airelle sighed. "And when the holidays came, you decided to—"

"To strike," he finished. "I'd had enough of waiting, and you both were prying too much into my affairs. And looks like I was just in time, too. When I reached the bookstore, where I knew you were, I had no idea that you'd guessed my identity…"

A question came into Airelle's head. "What did you do with Natalie?"

"Ah, you mean that storekeeper. I didn't kill her, sadly. It would raise suspicion if someone came looking for you. So, I Memory-Wiped her and told her that she never got a visit from anyone named Snape, Vilka, or three certain students too curious for their own good."

"How wonderful for us," Tracy muttered from behind Airelle.

"You are merely casualties of the war, you understand," said Noah calmly. "You will all be dead soon enough—why not have four of Hogwarts' finest die earlier? Saves time."

"You little bastard, wait until I get my hands on you…" Airelle began, getting an urge to kick the bars, even though she knew it was futile and would only provoke him.

"Which may be sooner than you think," he grinned, "if I have my way."

It took both Airelle and Snape a second to get the full purport of those words, and both of them put on identical looks of loathing.

"But now," said Noah, "enough of trifling word games. I believe we should get to business. I bet you'd all like to get a glimpse of your eventual fate?"

Snape was the only one who did not back away from the bars toward the farthest wall. "What the hell's he talking about?" Airelle asked, staring at her friend with bulging eyes.

The Potions Professor did not reply.

"Snape?"

"Voldemort," he finally said. Airelle stopped clutching Neville's limp hand (for she had dragged his body with her to the back of the cell) and became deadly calm. Now this was curtains, to be sure. If the Dark Lord showed up, nothing could be done without wands. Nothing. And even with wands, their survival was dubious.

Noah, meanwhile, seemed to be paying no attention to the six whatsoever, but replaced his hood. Then, he knocked on the door, and there was a shuffle on the outside. Shortly afterwards, a Death Eater entered carrying a metal jar with a gilded handle.

"You have it?" asked Noah, and his voice sounded hoarse under the hood.

"Is it wise to do it in front of them?" asked the other. This was a woman's voice, definitely. Airelle had no idea Voldemort allowed women to don Death Eater hoods. She supposed he learned from his enemies at the Ministry—women could kick, to excuse the expression, serious ass.

"I want to show them," replied Noah with a bow, taking the jar. "Their fates are sealed; it does not matter anymore."

The female Death Eater nodded silently, and walked out without a single backward glance. As she closed the door, Airelle caught a glimpse of the outside—polished, gray marble floors. Where on earth were they?

Saying not a word, Noah carried the jar gingerly to the middle of his side of the room and, ignoring the captives completely, poured a handful of powder from it into his hand. It sifted like sand through his fist on the floor, sparkling and black as coal. Airelle and the others watched with uncertainty as the Death Eater drew a small rapier from the innards of his robes and nicked his finger with it. Airelle stood transfixed as Noah squeezed the blood out drop by drop, letting it mix with the powder. A wisp of gray-green smoke was sent up from the floor every time the blood touched it, and an acrid smell began to waft through the room.

"By blood of thy servant, thy faithful servant, O great master, I beseech thee," came a whisper, but it was not Noah's. Airelle turned her head sideways, to a most horrific sight—Snape's face was pressed up against the bars, his dark eyes staring hungrily at the dripping blood as if he were a vampire. He'd been right; the Dark Mark was strong, even for those who had renounced it. Not knowing what to do, she grabbed his sleeve and muttered, "Compose yourself…I beg you…"

Nonchalantly, Noah Lieton uttered a chant of words Airelle did not recognize in any spellbook, and the wet powder on the floor began to send up bubbles of smoke. At this point, the ex-Auror could not take it any longer. She wanted to run and hide—but couldn't. The students behind them knew nothing of evil—had never come into contact with it. Both Snape and Airelle had, before, and thus neither could run. Her feet were glued to the floor in the face of one of her nightmares materializing to flesh.

It happened quickly after that. The smoke melted into a hovering shape, first a shapeless lump, but then a face; a terrifying, red-eyed face from the brooding recesses of her worst fears. It reeked of death… and not the kind of death that brought peace. It was death brought on by pain and despair. And still, Airelle could not, for her life, have moved away from those bars.

"I have been summoned," it hissed softly, "for a good reason, I hope."

Noah was on his knees, waiting.

"Speak. Have you accomplished what I have sent you to do?"

"Yes, my Lord. I have not failed you. The Auror, the traitor, and some others are in my possession and power."

Voldemort's expression did not change. "Excellent. And the old man?"

"Away in London at the Ministry, my Lord."

There was a pause, as if Voldemort were catching a breath that had inadvertently escaped. "Proceed with your plan…"

Noah bowed. "As you wish, my Lord. But… may I ask something?"

"Quickly. The time grows short."

"What shall we do with the others?"

The red eyes swiveled and focused right on Airelle, who cringed and finally stepped backwards. Then, they went past her and to Alica, Tracy, Ron, and Neville. Thank heaven Neville was still unconscious, or he surely would have gone stark raving mad.

"Kill them if you wish," said Voldemort. "You have done well, and I leave it to your discretion."

Noah bowed his head low. "I thank you humbly, my Lord. I shall not disappoint you."

"See that you don't." His voice was fading, and resulted in no more than a whisper. "Because if you do, your present success shall play no role in your fate."

"Yes, my Lord."

The powder on the floor glowed black one last time, and dissolved into ashes. Noah rose and smiled broadly.

"Looks like you're in my hands," he said. "I won't kill any of you just yet… I want to see your faces when you hear the news of Hogwarts." His grin was sadistic as he came close to the bars. "I want to watch you as you die, knowing that everything has crumbled around you. As for you, Severus," he added, turning to Snape, who was not all there, "I shall leave you to my Master, as he instructed me."

Airelle, who had recovered from her shock at seeing Voldemort, felt rage seep through her blood, and would've torn Noah's head off had he been standing a little closer to her. "If I die, I'm taking you with me," she growled.

Noah's hazel eyes twinkled, in a way completely contrary to Dumbledore's, as he stared at her in amusement. "We'll see, Ms. Vilka," he replied, walking to the door, "we'll see. But I need you now…so say your goodbyes, because soon you shall be going on a little trip with me."

"Go to hell."

"No, actually, we're going to Hogwarts. Together, my dear, yes… to reclaim what rightfully belongs to my Master, the Dark Lord."

And Noah Lieton walked out, leaving Airelle to, even in the midst of her dread and anger, ponder a very peculiar question—What does Voldemort want at Hogwarts?

To Be Continued…

A/N: Chapter 25 coming ASAP. This chapter "Unveiled" is dedicated to singer/actress Aaliyah, who died in a plane crash on Saturday, August 25th, 2001. I was never a great fan of hers but it is sad to see a life lost. Requiescat In Pace.