Part Three
~*~ Frozen ~*~
She closes the book with a snap and sits it back down with the others. Lark sighs and looks towards the worn gray cover of the tome, wondering how she had ever been suckered into what had happened to her after her seventh year. She should have known, should have seen through the trap. But I didn't, she tells herself, and the only reason why I'm still alive is because Severus knew more about Potions than Voldemort or any of the other Death Eaters. She picks up the books and carries them back to the shelf where they belonged, then returns to her chair and contemplated the fire burning in the hearth. Her mind wasn't going to slip back any more that evening, because she didn't want to remember what had happened, how foolish she'd been . . . how she had touched the very flesh of death, and had been pulled back by a potion mixed with something far more powerful than magic. Another sigh escapes her and she stands, determined to stay in the present and not venture back in thoughts."Just don't think of it . . ." She says out loud to herself, paying no attention to the worried noises her hawk was making towards her. Horus sensed her thoughts, of course . . . he knew more than most people expected - for he was not really what people expected at all. The hawk, which looked exactly like her old hawk Corbin, watched his mistress with concern showing in his sharp, dark eyes. The sound of fluttering wings startled them both, as a small, solid white dove flew through into the bedroom. It eyed Horus with no fear, though the hawk was staring it down as though it were a blasphemy. The dove had landed to perch on the mantle of the fire place, tilting its head to look at Lark. In it's fragile beak was a small rolled up piece of rose colored paper. Lark smells the scent of it where she stands - jasmines - there was only one person she knew whom loved the scent. A faint smile crosses her lips, knowing well whom this dove belonged to, and what it's meaning of messenger symbolized. She holds out her hand to the bird, and is not surprised as it wings it's way to her in a split second, dropping the scroll into her awaiting hand. As she opens it, the dove flits back to the mantel, still under the menacing gaze of the very large hawk. Lark paid neither of the birds any attention, but was reading the message with interest. Finally, she goes to her desk and takes out a small bit of parchment and pens a reply quickly. She rolls it up and holds it out for the dove, who takes it quickly and is soon vanished from the room. Horus turns from facing his mistress, making her just snort at him in return as she sits back down, wondering what it will be like after all these years . . . to see that face again . . .
-----Severus prowls the halls silently, waiting to catch Potter and Weasley up to something as they usually are. So what if it's only the very beginning of the school year? There is no rest for the wicked, is there? He rolls his eyes at that idea, then glides up the stairs that lead out of the dungeons. Reaching the top, he looks down into the darkness from which he came, and regards it with a half hearted smirk. So very accurate, Snape thinks before continuing on his way. He walks for a little while, his scathing eyes roaming the darkened hallways around him, watching the very shadows for any hints of unwarranted movements. He knows just about every hiding place there is to know, as he and Audrey had once roamed these halls and tortured their adversaries - even in the middle of the night, they'd been cruel to unsuspecting victims. The flood of good memories warmed his face with a smile, though the expression was quickly banished as his mind turned to darker times from his past. What had nearly happened to her, what had happened to her, and how he was to blame for not stopping it before any of it came about. It was all his fault, and he knew it - though she swore up and down it was her blindness that caused her to fall into the trap that had nearly claimed her life. He was sure they could argue over it until they both passed out from lack of oxygen, but luckily, the subject had been avoided so far. A sound snaps him back to the present, and he turns towards it only to see that a house elf had dropped something and was now scrambling to pick it up. Ignoring the worker, Severus continues on his way, his mind going back over all that had happened. And what of now, he thinks, what will come from her return? Certainly it will not bring her safety from the Death Eaters whom she'd opposed, and it would not bring him favor with the Dark Lord in the slightest. But then, how would he find out about their continual friendship?
"Fool." He whispers to himself, thinking of a certain pointed face boy from his own house of students. Lucius sees whatever Draco sees, and whatever those two see, Voldemort hears about. And what will that get you, o great Potions Master who is already under such suspicions that death may soon be the only answer to Voldemort's question of your loyalty? He growled at that small voice in his head, and went on his way, his mood far more foul than it had been before that pinch of reality. Snape had been surprised that Voldemort had not killed him that first time they'd met before last summer, when he'd gone back to the Death Eaters as Dumbledore's spy. However, Voldemort had cursed him with such vigor, the very memory of the pain stung his flesh. Albus had been surprised he'd survived it to return to Hogwarts. He himself was not, nor was Voldemort or any of the 'old guard' of the Death Eaters. No one there called him 'Snake'. No, they called him 'cockroach' for his ability to survive all those curses thrown at him in his life. Snape had, after all, survived a lot of what had driven so many others to insanity or death. The death eaters who knew his past just wondered why their Lord had just given him that treatment, when they were sure that he had threatened Snape's death when he'd taken a fleshling form once more. However, none of them had said anything - if Voldemort had plans for the poor git, who cared? Snape knew all of this, had recognized it on Draco's face when he'd returned to classes before the end of term. Yes, they thought I was to die -so did I. It goes to show you though, it really does . . . However, Voldemort may see no excuse for my actions in taking back up with the woman whose death I 'blundered' so horridly when I was just a mere youth. And I'm sure Draco is sure to tell his Daddy dearest all about my resumed friendship with Audrey, if he hasn't blabbed already. Snape's eyebrows furrowed, and he nodded to himself. Leaving his mission to prosecute children out after curfew, he made his way to the Headmaster's rooms. He believed it was time to tell Audrey of 'that other reason' of why she'd been summoned back to Hogwarts.~*~ Ravages of Time ~*~
Hogsmeade isn't as over run and noisy as it usually is, Lark notes to herself as she makes her way to the meeting place proclaimed in the dove delivered note. The building is relatively new, though it has a rather lack luster reputation among the locals. It is a place that the students are forbidden to go near in their visits, and a place that even Hagrid takes some consideration to avoid in his outings. She enters the saloon with an air of nonchalance, pretending not to feel the eyes that lock on her body. A movement in the corner draws her attention to it's presence, and the cloaked figure signals her over. Before she reaches the willowy shadow, it slips into a hall and beckons Lark to continue following. Of course, Lark thinks, it would do no good for the both of us to be recognized. As if these people even know either of us are. Still, rather safe than sorry. . . She reaches the destination of the door that the figure had left open. After going through it, she closes it behind her and is not surprised when a light is ordered on by an old familiar voice. Lark then realizes that the cloak her friend wears is blood red, lined in black feathers. Very over the top and showy, but elegant just the same. It fit the wearer well indeed."You are late." The cloaked figure informs her. "I thought for a moment to leave, then I remembered that one cannot disparate from Hogwart's grounds. So, I made an allowance."
"How very kind of you." Lark smirks, approaching the other slowly. "Now, won't you let me see you, dear? It's been awhile.""Yes." The cloaked individual replies. Long, slim fingers - all decked out in a very expensive assortment of rings - came up to the hood and pulled the material back. "I'm afraid though, that time has not been as kind to me as it has been to you, pet."
"Narcissa, as always you do me too much praise, and leave none for yourself." Lark stated, feeling the taller woman take her into her arms. After the hug, they broke away and Lark looked up into the fair skinned face. "Besides, you still look glorious. I don't think that will ever change.""Now, whose being buttered up, dove?" The woman bent down to her old friend and kissed her lips gently. "Still, it's a better compliment than Lucius could ever give. He thinks I should melt at his very touch."
"He's always been . . .""You need say nothing to me of what Lucius has always been. I know well enough. I married the prat didn't I?" Then, Narcissa heaved a sigh. "And now his son becomes more like him as the days go by. A pity. Draco wasn't always as such."
"I'll take your word for it." Neither woman remarked on the other's sharp looks. "Now, on to our business at hand. You said you wanted to make amends for last time we spoke?""Yes. Being a Death Eater's wife had to have some perks. If my knowledge can help you as I failed to last time, then so be it."
"Narcissa, you knew nothing . . . last time." Lark placed a forgiving hand on her friend's arm."I should have known, when they sent me away so suddenly from home after graduation. And to think they took what we had and used it to such a . . . an end." The pale skin of the blond woman turned a harsh shade of red. "It shames me to this day, that I didn't see then. And then when I was told you were dead . . . I thought it was all my fault."
"Never blame yourself, Cissa.""Too late for those words, love. Far too late. However, to make it all up to you, I'll ask you to hear me now. Voldemort knows of you being here, thanks to Draco and Lucius. They are, as we speak, hatching some plan against you. No doubt, they will place the task in the hands of Severus, poor git. He's under great suspicion, you know. The Dark Lord, he is wary of him. And now, with you here . . . and alive?" With that, Narcissa turned her gaze back to her friend. She found Lark looking flushed with shock. "What's this now, you thought Snape to be a changed man?" No reply. "If he is, and I wouldn't doubt it -as Dumbledore is no fool, no matter what has been said, and his trust warrants something, Lark - Severus is a very brave idiot for playing this game so close to the edge of death. Still, tread carefully where Severus is concerned."
"I am careful, always. Even where Severus is concerned. As I am where you are concerned.""Stay so, my little darling." Narcissa kissed her again. "But, never let on to him that you know. And, on the other hand, keeping your mouth shut may lead you into a confidence from him. Maybe into his very secrets. It would be a benefit."
"A benefit?" Lark's features went harsh. "More like blessing. He never told me anything of his old 'secret' until the very thing he didn't want to have happen took place.""Settle down now, love." The other woman said. "And listen to me. Go along with everything as normal, and don't put it to foolishness to block yourself with extra charms, even in Hogwarts. I don't think I could bear the second announcement of your death, and I doubt there would be much that Snape could 'blunder' this time."
"It was never a . . ." Lark found her words cut off by Narcissa's fingers."I don't need to be told that." The perfect pink lips smiled, then a lovely tongue ran over them and Lark was brought into another kiss. "Now, can we talk of other things? It's been awhile, and though I know I shouldn't, I want to stay with you as long as I can. Lucius won't be home til morning, and my bed has been cold for months now."
"Oh, so you come to play the backstabbing tart?" Lark raised her eyebrow as she tasted the hot sweetness of her old lover's hunger."What else have I ever been, dove?" Narcissa pulled Lark over to her once more, and the two women were soon comfortable on a small couch in the locked room. They would not part ways for several hours.
~*~ Shades ~*~The halls were dark when she arrived back. Lark paid it no attention, as she knew the passages of the building pretty well by heart, remembering all the times in days long gone when she had crept through them. Those times had been so innocent, and she smiled to think that once she believed herself so wickedly crafty as to get away with breaking curfew. How things do change, her mind sighed inwardly to itself. The shadows don't look so friendly now. As if to punctuate that unspoken idea, the form of a dog was soon evident through the shadows of the corridor ahead of her. It wasn't walking alone, for under a thin garment that Lark could see straight through was the form of a boy in his night clothes. The dog . . the dog . . I know that . . . No! Her mind hummed with anger, resentment and . . . sorrow? Don't think that, girl, she hissed at herself. He's done nothing so good as to make himself tragic. Look at where he landed himself, after all! The Earth magic worked well, but perhaps . . . She shook that end of the thought to concentrate on the scene at hand. This wasn't good, the implications were dangerous. Slowly, while crouching in the shadows behind them, Lark drew out her wand, and threw back the cloak she'd worn out that evening. Free use of her arms attained, her wand ready for action, she narrowed her eyes and stepped into a flickering of light so that she would be somewhat visible when she made her accusation.
"Mr. Potter," she began, her voice dangerous despite it's gentle tone, "I'd advise you step very quickly away from that man at your side." She watched as both the boy and the dog nearly skidded to a halt. Harry came from beneath the Invisibility Cloak as Sirius Black turned to face her, still in Animagus form. "You can quit the act, Black. My memory works well, and I do remember nights when you roamed these halls with me in that shape."And, before her eyes, the dog stood up as she bid it to, and the form of the beast melted into one of a very shaggy looking vagrant of a man.
"Lark Windsong?" He asked. Same voice sounded from lips that had once been handsome, same unflagging pride, even if he looked beaten down. Still, it was enough. Yes, she told herself, my spell worked, didn't it? More could still be done, though."I see Azkaban did nothing to improve your slow wit?" She hissed. "Well, it shall soon have another chance!" Her wand pointed, she opened her lips to speak the spell and then . . .
A hand was over her mouth and an arm was tight around both of her own, the shock of the situation causing her to drop her wand."Audrey," the voice of her captor whispered silkily in her ear, "as much as I would love to see Black kicked around by you, that will have to wait. He is, believe it or not, needed for some work. As are you. And I know you'd hate to hurt the Headmaster's feelings by making one or both of you unavailable for the tasks at hand."
In front of her, Sirius Black was staring almost indignantly at the two Slytherins he'd been long at odds with. Harry, on the other hand, was looking rather shocked at Snape's show of physical strength. So, Lark thought to herself, how will this night end?~~~
Awhile after that, and somewhat far away from the grounds of the Wizarding school, Narcissa Malfoy was returning home after her long evening out. House elves came while she discarded her cloak, and as they took it silently away, she stretched out her long body and headed for the stairs. Her mind felt numb and her body was still throbbing pleasurably from the love making it had experienced not so long ago. It had been pure bliss, seeing and being with Lark again. Too bad they had not had always, as they had once thought they'd have. Fate, it seemed, had different plans for them . . . and Lark loved another beyond just Narcissa. There would always be Severus on Windsong's mind. Her belly squirmed with jealousy at the thought. However, she had her own distractions as well. Narcissa's other lover had always been duty . . . and now she had the duty to her son to set his life straight. If Lucius would ever die, it would make her task of making Draco honorable much easier. But, blessing were few, and Lucius seemed immortal at times. Poor little Draco, who had once had innocent eyes and a happy smile. He'd given up his childhood for all the arrogance the Malfoy clan could offer. Her body felt pain at the thought of the boy she'd birthed. He'd been perfect once, an angel at her heels and a cherub happily upon her lap and Lucius had twisted that precious gift. Lucius had poisoned their baby with Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and now all her silver angel wanted was to walk at his Father's side. Her skin flashed red with hatred for the man she called husband and the Dark Lord he served. It was well enough that she had talent as an actress . . . for if she'd not had that gift, she'd have been dead by this day. Mother of Draco or not."Draco, my darling child, what have they done to you?" She whispered. Narcissa was passing the upstairs parlor then, heading to the bedroom she knew would be empty of her husband's presence.
"More like," a familiar voice hissed from the open parlor, "what have you done against him, woman?"She stopped in her path and without turning her head, let her eyes cross the hall to the open door. Lucius stood silhouetted in the doorway, handsome face lost in the shadows. It was not he who'd spoken though. Another stood behind him in the room, stark against the fire that roared beneath the mantel of the hearth. Voldemort. Voldemort knows! Narcissa's mind screamed out. Goddess bless, the damned Lord of Darkness knows! Lark, o Goddess . . . he knows!
"What were you thinking?" Lucius growled at her, seizing her arm as he spoke. Her head snapped in his direction, and the figure behind him moved in closer to the both of them. It was too late to lie. It was too late. All she had now was the hope that her son would grow some sense and the only person whom she'd ever loved, save for herself and for her baby, lived to see the end of Voldemort's reign."To damn you and to save my son's soul." Was all she could reply, and though her voice shook, she felt no fear.
Narcissa Malfoy would weep the nights away no more. Her lifeless body was cold before the sun ray's touched the sky.~~~
More soon!!!