Chapter Three
The Lord's Saliva

"Shut up! You'll wake her."
"Just open it! What's your problem, Herm?"
"I can't open it! If I could, I would, Ron!"
I faintly heard the jiggling of keys and the rattling of a cage door. My eyes snapped open and I peered over at Melanie Granger's cage, which was surrounded by two wizarding types. One was the brown-eyed, bushy-haired girl I'd seen before passing out, and the other was a freckly, red-haired boy. Neither of them had noticed me awake yet, so I crept behind them to retrieve my wand. The bushy-haired girl was clutching it loosely in her palm, so it'd be much too easy to pull it out.
Before she could feel my movements, I curled my fingers around my wand and yanked it out of her hand. She cried out in surprise, whirling around and nearly knocking her nose with mine. I smirked lightly, pointing my wand at her chest.
"So, thought you could just knock me out, huh?" I snapped, a growl rising in my throat. "I'm not that weak, you fool!"
"We're here for my mother," she replied defiantly, glaring at me tensely. "Open the cage!"
"Even if I knew how to, I wouldn't! It's my job to see that she doesn't escape! And now, I'm going to report you." My hand reached for a red button on the wall-- the alarm button.
"No, please!" There was a sudden sense of desperateness and urgency in the girl's voice. "Please... Miss... Oh, I don't even know your name, but... Have mercy, won't you?" She gazed at me with her shining brown eyes.
"I don't do mercy," I mumbled. Even so, my hand faded away from the button and slowly found its way into my lap.
"Where are they keeping her?" she demanded.
"Who?" I sputtered, blinking at her as if she were mad. "Your mother's right there."
"No, not my mother, a friend of mine," she explained impatiently, tapping her foot. "Have you seen--"
Melanie Granger smiled gratefully up at me, interrupting her daughter. "Are you a spy?"
"What?" I exclaimed, my hands fluttering to my chest. "Are you crazy?"
"She's not crazy," said the girl softly, scrutinizing my body, looking me up and down as if searching for some defect. "If you really were one of Voldemort's, you would have had us captured by now."
"I [I]am[/I] one of Voldemort's," I mumbled. "I just... I can't... It's too late for me," I burst out. "I can't turn back now. I can either chose death or a lifetime service to the Society. Which one would you choose?"
"Death!" cried the red-headed boy, slamming his fist into his palm. "This place is disgusting! Muggles screaming behind every corner! Blood lining the corriders! And the worker's disgusting smiles--"
"Ron," whispered the girl tenderly, laying a hand on his arm. She then turned her attention back to me. "So, you aren't really one of them. I mean, you are, but... you aren't."
"Sort of," I replied, raising my eyebrows.
"Then maybe... Could you help us, Ella?" she whispered excitedly. "I'm trying to find my friend Anne, she was taken captive here only a short while ago, and I'm hoping to--"
"She's..." I cast my stare downwards. "She's dead. I'm sorry," I added.
"Oh, no," she gasped, tears filling her eyes. "Anne... I never... Oh, Ron," she sobbed, grabbing for the redheaded boy. He wrapped his arms around her, shooting me a suspicious glare.
They stayed like this for a few moments, locked in their embrace. I simply looked on. No one had ever held me like that-- save for maybe Tom Riddle, that one night when we had spoken-- and I doubted anyone would ever hold me like that again. For a moment, I felt a fleeting feeling of-- well, I don't know what it was. Jealousy? Sadness? It was something between the two. Either way, I didn't enjoy it.
Just as they broke apart, there were ghastly footsteps behind them. The sound of a cloak slithering along the floor was clearly audible, as well as the soft breathing of a human. My neck practically snapped as I jerked my face towards the noise. There, standing a few feet in the room, was John. John [I]Riddle[/I].
"What is the meaning of this, Ella?" he hissed, rushing towards me and grabbing my wrist. His grip was surprisingly strong for such a bony boy. "This is indeed Hermione Granger. And Ron Weasley," he added, shooting off the syllables with obvious distaste.
"Please, sir, don't," I pleaded, clutching his arm desperately. "I just was talking, I meant no harm..."
"You should have reported their presence immediately, Ella," he snarled, shaking his arm out of my grip. "Have you gone completely mad?"
"Oh," I moaned, falling to my knees and burying my face in my hands. "I'm as good as dead, oh, it's all over..."
"Stop," he begged. He imitated my actions, falling to his knees and placing a hand under my chin. "Please. I can't bear it... I can't..."
"I'm sorry I displeased you, John," I mumbled, a few tears making their trails down my cheeks. "I just... I don't love the Society anymore. I frankly can't stand it. Your father is an evil, horrid man, and I wish I could bring him down!" I gasped inwardly, shocked at my sudden outburst of words. He'd kill me now for sure.
"You--" His eyes bulged at me in horrified disbelief. "You are unfaithful?" he finally choked out, grabbing my hands with his. "You... You angel," he added in a whisper.
"What?" I exclaimed.
"I have always been expected to follow in my father's footsteps. I bear his blood. I bear his name. But no one has ever imagined that I've dreamed of more than this..." He looked up towards the ceiling, as if imagining faraway places. "No one has ever expected me to want more than the screaming of Muggles, the blood of my enemies, power over the whole world..." He closed his eyes slowly. "But I have dreamt of more... Much more than this."
"I didn't... know," I said finally. For once, I was at a loss for words.
He smiled sadly at me, then leaned over and pressed his lips against mine. This was the last thing I had been expecting, but surprisingly, his lips were warm, gentle, and friendly. I almost felt myself yearning for more... This is John Riddle! my mind was screaming at me. The second most evil fiend on earth! But at the same time he's... [I]Beautiful.[/I] As he pulled away from me, I felt myself smiling back at him.
"All right," said Ron loudly, completely destroying the moment. "Can we just get Mrs. Granger and get out of here?"
"It's not that easy, lad," said John darkly. "You need a key... And not just any key. You need the key that lies only around the neck of my father, Lord Voldemort."
"You-Know-Who?" exclaimed Ron in a whisper. He turned his eyes on Melanie. "Sorry, Mrs. Granger, but it looks like you're going to be here for a while."
"Ron!" snarled Hermione. Ron recoiled slightly. Hermione then turned back to John and I. We were still holding each other, as if we were to let go, we'd both fall apart. "Can you help us? Then again, [I]why[/I] would you help us?" She narrowed her eyes. "This is a trap, isn't it?"
"I don't need to set traps, m'lady," he replied politely. "I could kill all four of you right now if I wished."
I shuddered slightly in his arms, which only caused him to hug me tighter.
"So, you, the [I]son[/I] of You-Know-Who, are going to help me free my mother and escape from here?" Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave both John and I a searching stare.
"If it is what my princess wishes," he replied quietly.
"We have to escape," I whispered, tugging at his robes. "If we leave now, your father will never catch us. We can join the Order and help bring him down..."
He shook his head. "It is madness, Ella. His powers exceed my own."
"We can't stay here," I cried, fresh tears pricking my eyes.
"No," he murmured. "We can't. But now is not the time to think of it. First, we will help Miss Granger. Then, we will speak of escape."
I nodded slowly, struggling to see the logic of his plan. Before I had come up with anything else to say, he began to speak again.
"As I said earlier," he announced, his arm tightening around my waist, "you need the key which lies around my father's neck. Not only that, you must moisten it with the Dark Lord's saliva for it to fit properly into the lock."
"And you know this?" said Ron suspiciously. "How?"
"I am the Dark Lord's son. He would never expect any unloyalty from me." The last few words shook, as if he realized what kind of decision he was making. He was forfeiting the throne, forfeiting his chance to be prince of the world, at the right hand of his evil father...
"John," I murmured, grasping his bony hand in mine. He smiled down at me, but it was a mournful smile-- he knew very well what he was giving up. Even so, as he felt my hand in his, he seemed to strengthen.
"I know what I can do," he said suddenly, his grip tightening on my hand. "My father sleeps as light as a cat. That is our biggest weakness. However, I will learn to fix this. You just leave it to me."
"I trust you, John," I said sincerely.
He smiled, a trace of his old evil self flashing across his face. "Good, Ella. Because trust is what I will need from all of you."