Chapter Twenty Nine: Breaking down Heaven
Lord Voldemort leaned forward as the doors to his throne room burst open. Beside him, the Dark Prince's hand fell to his wand as he stepped in front of his master. Four Death Eaters entered, two carrying the others in their arms. Whispers and rumors began to fly among those assembled, concerning the grisly display before them. Lucius slipped into the back ranks, in case Voldemort decided to randomly start torturing people because of his displeasure. He looked at Silas who merely folded his arms and waited for events to unfold. Beside Lucius, Lestrange and Karkaroff began to chatter to whoever would listen about who they thought was behind this. He heard the names of Aurors interchange with Order of the Phoenix members but one name continued to cross their lips.
Saint Michael.
That was, until the Valkyries clustered near Jack the Ripper, pointed to the injured woman the taller of the standing Death Eaters was carrying. The woman was wearing the remains of a burned silk veil that at one time covered her face.
It was Madame de Noche, Voldemort's ward, Melanie Reyes.
This caused the Dark Prince to react, stepping down from Voldemort's throne and pulling off his mask to reveal his identity for the first time to the Death Eaters. Severus' face was a mixture of fear and shock. He dropped his mask haphazardly on the floor as if it meant nothing and hurried to Melanie, taking her into his arms. "What happened?"
Galen McKenna, one of those standing, lowered the prone body of Evan Rosier down to the floor. Gasps, and shutters ran through the crowd as they began to realize the extent of this attack. Rosier looked like he had been burned to death. "We were ambushed at Rosier's home. Aurors came from everywhere…"
"How did they know where to find you?" Snape hissed.
"Dumbledore's werewolf was with them sir. He must have told the Aurors were to look." Galen defended. "They came out of no where! We barely escaped!"
"Yet you are unscathed while my cousin lies dead!" Snape demanded, still holding on to Melanie. "While Melanie…"
"My lords, the fault is mine." Melanie suddenly spoke. Her voice was ragged and hoarse and barely coherent. Half of her face had been burned from whatever hex was used, her right eye was burned shut and most of her hair was gone; she looked near death and liable to slip into it at any moment. "Once I saw the Aurors, I ordered the attack. I disobeyed the Prince's orders and that is why Evan is dead."
"Shhh, don't speak Melanie." Severus whispered, brushing her cheek, gingerly. "It's alright. I'll take care of it."
"Yes, you will, my Prince." Voldemort said, cruelly as he stood. "You will punish Melanie for her disobedience."
"No," Snape frowned, "My lord, she did nothing wrong!"
"She has disobeyed you and me. What greater crime is that?"
"She fought the Aurors, that is her duty. If anyone is held responsible, let it be Dumbledore and Lupin, and if they are not enough…hold me responsible."
There was an eerie silence that began to seep into the room. None present had ever heard the Dark Prince disobey or defend someone. Voldemort seemed stunned by his Prince's gall. Eoin Malone tilted his head curiously, eyes darting back and forth between his Lord and Prince. Then, he stepped forward, and put his hand on Voldemort's shoulder.
"So is our lord's will." Eoin said in a loud voice, eyes roaming the room, knowing that his voice was considered Voldemort's. "He who is responsible for this debacle shall be punished, and the Aurors killed. Erskine, take Evan to whatever family he has left. Then take some men and follow Galen to the Aurors. Jackie will go with Galen now, and tend to his injuries. I will handle Dumbledore's lackeys."
Snape suppressed a shiver of fear, concerning Voldemort's edict. He looked up, and spoke. "What of Melanie?"
Eoin glanced at Voldemort who stood and walked towards her. Voldemort leaned down and stared painfully at his niece's distorted face. "Such beauty…destroyed."
"Tom?" Melanie whispered, lifting up her hand towards Voldemort. In her voice was the panic and anguish of knowing Voldemort's true feelings concerning women of lacking beauty. Riddle loved perfection in all sorts and forms, and anything less then it repulsed him. "Don't send me away…"
"Take her from my sight." He said, ignoring Melanie's pleads. He shut his eyes against her raising pleads. "I don't ever want to see her again."
"No! Tom, don't do this!"
"Eoin, dispose of her."
"No," Snape shouted. "Let me take her. Give her to me." Voldemort turned, watching Severus shrewdly. Snape resisted the urge to beg for her, knowing that would only incest the Dark Lord more. He didn't need Voldemort's wrath. Not now, concerning Melanie. He do anything to keep her safe…
Even if that meant resisting the urge to fight for her.
Somewhere in the room, Silas Malfoy saw this battle being played out in Severus' mind and felt the sheer ecstasy of seeing his plan to fulfillment. It had been easy enough to arrange. Ezra had close ties to Saint Michael, and Remus Lupin was a member of his pack. Ezra had let the identity of Evan Rosier slip, and in turn the information had found it's way to Albus and the Aurors. It was almost too easy but that didn't make the victory any less sweet.
"And this is only the beginning." He whispered.
Lucius turned and stared at him. He had once believed his brother infallible and undefeatable but now he was taking on the Dark Prince. It was like every one of his deepest fears had come true- and Silas had gone mad. He was willing to risk everything in his quest for revenge.
Lucius was not. Gingerly, he reached over and touched his brother's shoulder. "Goodbye, my brother." He whispered, before he turned and left.
"Take her." Lord Voldemort said, finally. His voice was uncharacteristically low, and sensitive as if his treatment of Melanie pained him beyond words. "Take her and go."
"Thank you, Master." Snape turned to the nearest woman, a Valkyrie named Drucilla Dawson. "Take Melanie to Akel Dama, and tell the House Elf that greets you to tend to her. Tell her it's very important."
Drucilla nodded, leaning down and taking Melanie into her arms. "It will be done, my Prince."
"Good." Snape said, standing. He turned to retrieve his mask but didn't replace it. Instead, he looked up, meeting each Death Eater's eyes as he passed; daring them to take what they had seen today and twist into something it was not. Only Silas nodded to Severus, meeting the silent challenge. Snape ignored it, and pushed the doors open to leave.
He couldn't stop his shaking.
"You could have told them about me."
Jean Andre's voice met Severus just as he exited the throne room. Snape stopped and turned to the shadow where Jean was emerging from like a ghost. Snape took a step away from Jean, warily as if he was afraid merely sharing the same air with the man would bring back a past he longed to forget.
Andre had his head down as he studied the floor. "You could have told them my secret. That would have made up for Melanie's mistake."
"Did you have anything to do with this?"
"No."
"Did St. Michael?"
Jean inhaled, and looked at his hands. "It was information he trafficked that led the Aurors to Rosier, but Michael didn't know Melanie would be there…if he had…"
"Don't. Don't try and make Michael into a Saint." Severus laughed a little. "He's just like me, only looking to help himself."
"If that is true, why didn't you tell them of my secret?"
There was a long pause as Snape searched for the right word. "It was not mine to tell."
"You could have told Voldemort I was Rouge. He would have handed me over to Eoin, who in time would have made me confess Saint Michael's identity." Andre hadn't yet lifted his head. "You could have…"
"I couldn't allow them to harm you."
"Why not?"
"Because, you're a part of me." Snape hissed, angrily. He gritted his teeth as he spoke, forcing each word out. "Because, you are what I could have been and it gives me peace watching you, knowing that you are an Auror…that you are with…"
"That I am doing your job?" Andre asked, raising his head. "This is your place, Alexander, not mine. You belong at Hecate."
"I belong here, Jean." Severus tried again, keeping his voice barely above a whisper. "You cannot ask a Prince to betray his people."
"They are not your people, we are. You do not love them."
"I love one."
"Yes," Jean agreed after a short pause. "I saw that today, in the way you watched her, touched her. She is the one Erised replaced for a time, isn't she? I can see why you chose Ari. The resemblance is uncanny."
"No, Melanie had none of her will. Ari had strength but no emotion, Melanie has emotion but no will."
"Yet you love Melanie…"
"Do I?" Snape tilted his head, looking confused. His mind was phasing between confusion and clarity, between panic and peace. Things he knew and believed with all his heart now seemed to turn and twist inside of him. He glanced back at Andre. "Yes, I seem to have forgotten that. It seemed so long ago since I have loved someone."
"Didn't you love Ari?"
"We weren't capable of love," Snape said, turning away from Jean and walking towards the balcony. "I loved Ari because she reminded me of Melanie and nothing more."
"And yet, she loved you."
"She respected me. There's a difference."
"Not to her. You owned her loyalty, that's not something she gave easily."
"And then?" Snape turned back towards Jean, staring into the Kaga's eyes. There was the slightest bit of reproach and bitterness in Snape's voice and eyes as he spoke that he made no attempt to hide. "Tell me, Rouge, during her last days who owned my little angel's fidelity? You?"
"My Prince…she lived." There was a long pause, Snape expected to feel a sense of joy or at least comfort and was surprised when neither came. Andre mistook his silence for confusion and disbelief. "She lives, Alex. She's with…"
"I don't care." Snape countered calmly. "What do you want from me, Andre? I'm not the man you knew anymore. I don't know how to be. I am Prince now, and Voldemort is my master. I owe him all that I have."
"Including Melanie?"
"Especially Melanie." Snape said, pitifully. He raised his hands and motioned around him. "All this…this is what matters, the here and now, what is tangible and real. The things I once fought for, the loyalty and duty, and honor…those are just words. Meaningless words that are soaked in blood and nothing else. Easily forgotten and unimportant when people are dying from blind hatred and secretive monsters such as I. You talk of returning, of righting wrongs like if all that would matter and it doesn't. Here I am a Prince, a ruler, with power and privilege and you know what? I like it, Andre. I like being the Prince. I love commanding life and death, and being the most feared man in the world."
"And at what price do you have all this?" Andre asked, tilting his head.
Snape lowered his. "One human soul, one life."
Andre's eyes dimmed, slightly. "Are you sure it's only yours at stake?"
There was no light but the pale cast of a lamp beside Melanie's bed. The room was filled with the aromas of potions and incest that were meant to ward off evil and ensure security. Melanie Reyes writhed and twisted in her bed, trapped by whatever nightmares were dancing in her head. She would start to scream, then find her voice captured as she began to claw at some beast that attempted to attack her. Then, at the height of this climax, Melanie would collapse on the bed again.
She heard music on the air and jolted up in bed, straining to hear it. "Severus? Sev, Sev…Severus?"
"Yes," Silas called as he crept into the room. "Yes, call for him. Call for your lover."
"Silas?" Instinctively, Melanie pulled the blankets closer to her frame, and narrowed her eyes. "What…what do you want?"
"I've come to take what is mine." He answered simply, as he crossed the room to the bed with all the prowess of a man whose revenge and anger had been too long held at bay.
He sprang unto the bed, causing Melanie to pull herself closer to the edge of the bed. Eyes widen by fear but darkened by the fire darted around the room, looking for a salvation that would never come. Her body was wracked and destroyed, and in her stomach she felt the mind-numbing fear of a hopeless situation. If she screamed Silas would only silence her, if she resisted he would kill her. She was alone.
"He'll kill you," She whispered, voice breaking and choking on terror that was welling up inside of her. "He'll come after you…"
This halted the dragon's advance. A low rumble began in his stomach, rising to his throat and finally bursting forward in long, rapturous laughter. It was loud, and broken, driven by blind rage and perceived invincibility. "I'm counting on it."
The creature tilted his head as he came over her body, pushing up skirt and diving pass her legs to tear her apart. Melanie closed her eyes, and forced herself not to scream. Screaming what accomplish nothing. Her hands found the edge of the bed, digging into the sheets. The dragon was dark, fierce and uninvited. She could feel him inside of her, destroying her. His mere presence, his breath on her skin seemed to incite the wounds from the battle and set them on fire again. Each burn and bruise rose to his touch, begging for his attention. Destruction and death became his very touch; she could feel her body succumbing to his touch- could feel her body writhing under him. It felt as if she was trapped within hell itself.
As if all her sins were remembered in this one moment…
He was Death, and hell followed with him. Melanie felt every victim she had murdered, tortured, or maimed in Voldemort's name rise up and laugh at her, mocking her with dumb voices and staring into her with blackened eyes. Her eyes danced around the room.
She could see them! The victims, her victims; Silas had conjured them to punish her. She could hear their loud, chaotic laughter form a mantra- urging Silas to continue. The voices and eyes were pouring into her! Attacking her like Silas was doing!
Melanie began to grip at her throat, scrambling for air. No! She was being suffocated by their laughter! She tried to scream now, hoping Severus would hear her and make it all go away, but there was no relief, no end. She could still feel Silas' breath burning her…
And then cold…
His hands were cold and rough on her, resting under her ribs. Her hands fell to his, following them to her to her stomach.
And then, she felt it.
It was breathing inside of her! Silas had put something in her! Some creature! She knew it! Cradling the soft flesh, Melanie felt the ugly beginnings of life. Silas had created something, some monster that would destroy her from the inside out. The dragon had planted a seed within her, something that would grow to destroy her.
She felt bile and disgust rise up in her throat but made no attempt to quell it.
Silas jumped back as the woman threw up over herself. He laughed slightly, tucking a hair behind his ear. "Come now, I wasn't that bad was I?"
"What…what did you put in me?"
"It's a little late for a lecture about the birds and the bees, Mel."
"You put a monster in me!" She shouted as she started clawing at her stomach. She had to get it out! "You, and them! You've…you've…"
Silas looked at the woman before him and laughed. "Ah…" He mused, as he slid off the bed. He picked up his coat and slid it over his body, stepping over the prone body of Drucilla who he had to hex along with Babbitt to enter the room. He turned back, looking at the woman.
"What does he see in you? What hold do you, a creature of no use or purpose, have over the great Dark Prince? You were beautiful once, but now it's gone and still he fought for you. You betrayed him, left him and still he came back to you…He damned others and himself for you. He killed and was killed for you and all you repaid him with was coldness and distance. And still, he always there to save you from the nightmares, from the boogieman…tell me, milady…will he save you tonight?" The dragon asked, before stealing into the night.