Chapter Thirteen - The Seventh Day
The city slept.
There was a comfortable hush that settled in the air outside. Families were deep in slumbering fantasies during the early hours preceding dawn. The world seemed nestled in a sanctified silence.
A roadster tore down the street, slicing the stillness with the whir of a roaring engine and infecting the air with the stench of rubber on road. With violent determination the car ripped along wealthy city streets until it arrived at a large mansion on a block all its own. Even in pulling up outside the home, the engine still screamed and the car was unable to secure a position like a young child with an attention disorder.
Narcissa Malfoy was laying cheek-down on the table. A small trickle of lady-like drool trailed off the edge signifying her unconscious unawareness. The abominable noise caused her to start. However, Severus, who was passed out under the table, mouth open wide, receiving Narcissa's dripping saliva, did not wake at the roaring noise.
As Narcissa tried to gently wake the sleeping man by kicking him in the ribs, a badger crashed through the anteroom's stained-glass window. The badger ran upstairs, yelling voices were heard from outside, and Severus' head whirled as he tried to process it all.
Moments later Lucius fled down the stairs, wrapping a light-blue argyle morning robe about him as the dogged badger followed him with malicious intent. The instant Lucius' loafer-lodged foot reached the staircase's end, the badger latched itself onto Mr. Malfoy's head and began tearing at the tender blond locks.
Lucius shrieked and ran about until another animal flew through the gaping hole in the window. Severus froze and Lucius' limbs ceased flailing as they stared at the writhing, glimmering serpent on the ground. They looked seriously at each other and instantaneously, accompanied by a growl from outside, their arms seared with pain. The Death Eaters still looked at each other, awestruck, while Narcissa chuckled contemptuously at Lucius' unkempt hair as the badger hopped dutifully out of the house. A furious roar sent Severus hurtling purposefully through the remnants of the window, and Lucius followed him a few steps, paused, then turned to Narcissa.
She sat among the shards of colorful glass. She already had a cigarette to her lips. She reeked of gin, vodka, and three other liquors Lucius could not identify, but to him she looked as beautiful as ever.
"Narcissa," he said, deepening his voice and standing erect. "I don't know what's gonna happen to me, or what's to come out of this mess, but"-- Lucius swooped up Narcissa in a surge of strength that thoroughly surprised her --"no matter what, there are certain things worth dying for."
He stared deep into her eyes, wretched the burning cigarette from her lips, and pulled her forcefully to him as he pressed his lips against hers before she could protest.
He released his grip and jumped out the window. Narcissa fell to the floor, startled from the abrupt change of pressure. She stood up and heard the engine roar and speed away in a split second. She screwed up her eyebrows in anger and confusion.
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS TH--?!"
The yelps of the Malfoy's house elf cut her off. She pulled the recently awoken Draco from the small fire started by the discarded cigarette. Draco reluctantly released the chained Dobby. The house elf hobbled away, nursing his badly burned ear. The child giggled and cooed in his mother's arms.
Severus and Lucius sat in the bewitched roadster. Lucius had a death grip on Severus, who was gazing around the car's interior.
The automobile, as most in the wizarding world, was bewitched to be much larger inside than in appeared from the outside. The dragon-leather upholstered seats supported the Dark Lord's most devoted followers: Stormer nervously twiddled his thumbs; the Lestranges eyed each other grudgingly; Crabbe and Goyle made crude hand gestures; Barty Crouch's gang held each others black-nailed hands in rapturous anticipation; and the assorted others were doing what they usually did--no one seemed hyped about the situation but the chanting teenagers. Severus eyed each face suspiciously and could only hypothesize what was on the other side of the tinted glass window separating the driver from the Death Eaters.
The roadster's occupants swayed as the car madly turned corners at top speeds.
"Severus?" Lucius muttered, removing his thumb from his mouth.
Severus' eyes narrowed but did not meet Lucius' face.
"What, Lucius?"
"What do you think of Paris?"
"What?!"
"Paris. What do you think of it?"
Severus threw off Lucius' hand and crossed his arms.
"Shut up and sit up," he commanded.
Lucius pulled himself off the floor and settled his bum into the expensive seat.
"I think we should go."
"Go where, you infantile dou--?"
"Paris, silly."
Severus was spared from further conversation when war cries erupted further down the car. Crabbe and Goyle were pelting each other with their blunt fists.
"That was 'Paper'. I WIN!!"
Growl! Snarl.
"Yer a wanker! 'Rock' kin smash through 'paper'!"
They continued to pummel each other violently when the tinted window at the front lowered just enough for a wand to peep through and let out fiery sparks that hit Rosier smack in the chest. He fell heavily to the floor. Everyone grew silent.
Within a short amount of time, the car screeched to a halt and the window lowered ominously to reveal a snarling and vicious looking Voldemort.
There was a sharp intake of breath from everyone but Lucius, who waved giddily at the Dark Lord.
Voldemort's lip curled upward and he waved languidly. Lucius was satisfied and squirmed to find comfort in his seat.
Voldemort's red slits glared from face to face. When they reached Severus they seemed to linger a little and it took all of his strength to stare back.
"Now," he hissed, the one syllable being colder and more threatening than anything else he had ever snarled at them. "You are all about to witness history in the making. I--"
"Everything you do is history in the making," Forrest gushed with a wink. Instead of looking pleased, Voldemort lowered his lids in an annoyed manner.
He continued. "I am about to do this worthless organization justice. Watch the Dark triumph. Witness the hurricane that is the Dark Lord."
He looked around to see if anyone objected. No one moved but Rosier's twitching body.
"No one is to move unless I command so."
Everyone nodded. Some looked down at their forearms knowing exactly how Voldemort would summon them.
"You are about to observe a prophecy unfold itself."
With that he swished away. Pettigrew, who was residing in the passenger seat leaned a pudgy arm where the window came from.
There was about twenty minutes of silence.
"Anyone want to play Scrabble?" Lucius asked as he pulled a board from behind his back.
Everyone looked at each other and Wilkes let out a derisive snort of air.
"Come on now, I'll sort out the letters, and we can play in teams. You guys over there"--he gestured to Barty and his crew--"don't be shy! We can all play!"
Within minutes a competent game was underway.
Severus slithered away from Lucius and over to Pettigrew who was still separated and sitting up front. Severus poked his face through the space where the window was not.
"Pettigrew," he called.
"Hm?" Peter turned down the Elton John that he was moments ago singing along with.
"What did ... when you ... at the ... I mean, what was the thing, you know, that the, uhm, Potters said to you...?"
Peter let out an arrogant laugh. His seat in the front was obviously getting to him.
"Ha! You'll never guess."
Severus, the anxiety building up inside him spilled out his mouth. "What?!"
"The Missus and the Mister ... "
Peter lowered his head toward Sev and he leaned in too.
"What? What is it?"
"They want to start a clog business!"
Peter yelped and snorted with laughter and Severus failed to see what was so funny.
"What do you mean?"
"Clogs, Snape! Dancin' shoes! You know! Them Swedes! Ha! Clogs! And James had this whole plan about ordering from your home, like cataclogs! You know, instead of catalogues? And he wanted an annual clogging show to showcase the newest clogs! Ha! I wouldn't have even gone if it wasn't crucial I-- well, you know. If I didn't have to."
Severus sensed something was awry, but he had only one question on his mind.
"Did," Severus swallowed. "Did Lily say anything?"
"Oh yeah, she made me cookies. She makes the best cookies."
"Yeah," uttered Severus morosely. "I know..."
Severus settled back into his seat and watched the game without interest until the passenger's door flew open. In peered Voldemort's anger-twisted face. His eyes were fiery and the vein in his forehead was throbbing madly.
"Pettigrew," he hissed, his tone venom. "Come!"
Peter hobbled out of the car, tripping as he went and dropping his wand against the curb. It sent out sparks that hit Voldemort square in the nose. He furiously counter-jinxed himself and grabbed Peter by the neck of his robes and dragged his whimpering body along.
Severus' lowered gaze traveled to Lucius' tray and he pointed out AVADA. He whispered in low tones that if it weren't for the Q and C, they'd have a very powerful curse and bank major points. Lucius winked and touched his wand to the unwanted consonants and changed them into a K and another A. Severus smiled in spite of himself.
Within minutes the Death Eaters were screeching and howling madly. The game reached a climax and everyone was on the edges of their seats, yelling wildly and cheering on their teammates and swearing out loud when another team raked in mass points. The car rocked, for Death Eaters were standing up and yelling, jumping up and down when critical moves were made. Lara kissed Forrest when he earned 140 points in one move. Even Crabbe and Goyle were getting points. Crabbe layed down the letters for a very obscure river-dwelling monster and received a pat on the back from Rosier, who had woken with help from Barty Crouch Jr.
Despite the culminating excitement, Severus realized that he had no idea where they were. He poked his head up into the front section of the roadster. His mouth fell open followed by a surge of violent anger.
The car was parked right outside the Potters' home.
When he came out of shock he reached behind to shake Lucius' shoulder. He failed to catch Lucius' attention.
"Lucius!" he called. "Lucius!"
Lucius looked up but forgot what he looked up for. The entire car silenced and all the Death Eaters looked past Severus and stared out the window with eyes as round as dinner plates.
A thunderous BOOM preceded a green mushroom cloud that erupted from where the Potters' home should be standing. Crackling sounds and flashes of light emitted from the huge cloud. From the base of the explosion a small figure was running.
It was Peter and he was screeching something.
Lucius and several others were leaning out the now-rolled down windows in the back. They listened hard.
"What is he saying?"
Peter's pants and wheezes were louder than his command.
"DRIVE!"
Severus hopped the seat and settled into the drivers seat. He jammed the key in the ignition and stomped hard on the gas as the Death Eaters pulled themselves inside. They were off with a roar as Peter failed to clear a hedge.
"No! Not without me, you idiots!!"
But his cry was not heard for the rumbling engine of a motorcycle replaced the thundering roadster's engine.
Atop the bike was Sirius Black. He had his eyes closed, thumping with one hand to the beat of The Clash that was playing on his headphones. In the crook of his other arm he held a fruit basket that boasted blue ribbons and a sign reading: "IT'S A BOY!" Confetti shot out of the top of the basket sporadically.
The bike landed feet away from Peter and Sirius looked up at him and discarded his Walkman.
Sirius spoke quickly.
"Hey bro! Like the basket? Haven't seen the kid, yet dude."
Sirius shook his head, his hair flopping wildly. Upon doing this, he spotted the pile of rubble where James and Lily now were buried under. He stared for a moment in shock then slowly turned to Peter who had his wand ready.
"You," Sirius managed to spurt out. "Dude, you, did?--I ... DUDE!"
Peter was shaking convulsively and let out a terrible whiny, nasal screech.
Sirius covered his face, but Peter pointed his wand himself. A long silver stream of light came from its tip and Peter manipulated this beam to sever off his own fingers. The appendages squirmed to the ground. Sirius stuttered for words, but Peter hollered again and a small explosion went off around Peter, causing a cloud of smoke to enclose Voldemort's henchman. When the dust settled, all Sirius could see were Peter's limp, pudgy severed fingers.
Peter's explosion had caused more damage than his own apparent self-destruction. A dozen or so bodies littered the street. Sirius looked around but all he met were horrified, disgusted, accusing eyes.
"Hoooooo no," Sirius said, throwing up his hands. "This is not what it looks like, dudes--"
The sound of a siren wailed in the distance.
"This is SO not cool."
Patches of sunlight lit the white wrought iron table through the thick leaves from above.
In the small French cafe, two figures sat. One had dark sunglasses and was swirling a small cup of espresso. The other man wore a pink beret and had a matching scarf tied about his neck. He had a pastry and cup of tea sitting directly in front of him on the table.
The pink-bereted man blinked his gray eyes.
"Severus?" he asked.
"Lucius? I told you not to say anything --" replied the dark-spectacled man, not bothering to look at his inquisitor.
"I know, I know, but--"
"Now, Lucius, I swear to you--" He spoke through gritted teeth.
"But the night we went to--"
"Don't say it--"
"--the Potters'--"
"Lucius! Close your trap I'm warning you--"
"--I left--"
"LUCIUS!"
"It's just that I left my--"
"GODDAMN IT LUCIUS! SHUT UP!!"
"Its just that I left my wallet at the Potters' house!"
The fair-haired man said his statement so quickly that the dark haired man had barely crashed his head onto the table in despair, spilling both drinks by the time he finished. The man still sitting up looked quizzically at the dark-haired man's greasy head.
"Sevy?"
