Chapter 16: Confessional

Half-blindly, Isabelle walked into the sanctuary of St. Bede's Catholic Church, found the darkest, most secluded pew, and curled up in a corner. She felt absolutely devastated. He was gone. Severus took him away that morning, just as he said he would. Somehow, she hoped that he'd change his mind. But, he didn't.

She didn't want to be at home, where everything reminded her of Harry. It was like losing her family all over again. The pain felt so fresh, so new, and cut her so deeply that she didn't ever think she could feel anything else ever again. All she could do is hide. Hide from her friends, and from Phillip, and from reality.

Church was good for that. Ever since her childhood, whenever she needed an escape, she ran away to the cool, reassuring pews. Guess that's why it's called a sanctuary, she mused in between sobbing into a growing pile of tissues. She lost herself so completely that she didn't notice when someone sat in the pew in front of her.

"Need a tissue?" he asked, rather kindly, he thought.

"I don't need a damn thing from you, Jake Parker," she replied without looking up.

"Such foul language in God's holy temple," he said mildly, stretching out his legs. "So, what brings you to St. Bede's on this fine New Year's morning? Not everyone's a mind reader like you."

Isabelle sat straight up, eyes blazing fire. "That was low. You know why I'm here. I...I...l-lost Ha--"

Jake put his hand on her shoulder to help steady her. "You're right, that was low. But, I thought we were friends. Why didn't you even introduce me to your nephew at Midnight Mass?"

"Were. We were friends," she said, blowing her nose loudly. "Friends don't threaten to turn friends over to the authorities."

"True. What I said was wrong, but my heart was in the right place. I just.."

"Just what?"

"Got scared," he admitted hollowly, looking at the ceiling. "I mean, we all thought Phillip was crazy. And, not only was he right, but you're this mind reader. Do you know how scary that is?"

"What, that I'm from England? That's Phillip's right about something? I'm confused."

"All of the above, plus the mind reading thing."

Isabelle looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "What are you afraid for me to know?"

"Nothing," he quickly answered. "Look, can I make a peace offering?"

"What sort of peace offering?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, her tears finally stopping.

"I'll keep your secrets, no problem. As long as you don't read my mind. Or anyone else's. That's creepy, and it's not fair. I'll never tell anyone anything you tell me, swear. I've kinda missed having you around, irritating brat that you are," Jake joked, pushing her shoulder playfully.

"What's in it for me?" Isabelle huffed. "Seems pretty stacked in your favor."

"My outstanding friendship. And, I'll tell you stories about Phillip that he'd never tell since he's an uptight--"

"Hey! Watch it. That's my uptight boyfriend you're talking about," she laughed through her tears.

"Boyfriend," he blinked. "Didn't know it was a serious thing."

Isabelle frowned. "Why, is there something wrong with dating him? Is he really a jerk, or some sort of abusive alien monster underneath that uptight, really cute exterior?"

"No. He's a great guy. It's a surprise, that's all."

"He brought Harry back to me. But now, he's gone again." She began sobbing again. "I don't have anyone left. What's the use? No one even cares."

Jake raised an eyebrow at her pity party. "You know, you're not alone in suffering. Other people have tough lives, too. And somehow they manage to not run away from their problems and wallow in self-pity."

"Ha. I've lost my whole family," she defended herself.

"Right. You're the only person in the whole world to lose someone they've loved."

"You wouldn't understand."

"No, being abandoned by my mom was a picnic. It felt great."

"Sorry," Isabelle winced. "It's just that I get jealous of people with perfect lives, you know? People like Phillip."

"Phillip hasn't had it easy," Jake said, standing up to leave. He didn't have any more patience left. "If you paid attention, you might've noticed that your boy isn't as perfect as you think."

Isabelle chased after him. "What do you mean?"

"You tell me. You're the mind reader."

-----

By the time she reached her apartment, Isabelle had finished crying, leaving only her swollen, puffy, red eyes. She climbed the steps and walked inside the empty living room. Severus tentatively walked in the room, and motioned for her to sit on the sofa.

"You hate me, don't you?" he asked quietly. She didn't know what surprised her more, that he would ask such a personal question, or that he truly cared about her response.

"No, I don't hate you," she said, just as silently. "I just don't understand."

Severus nodded and slouched down into the thick sofa cushions. "Dumbledore and I decided a while back what's in your best interests. And that is to be a normal teenager. You know that."

"I still don't understand why I can't have Harry. You know how horrible it is for him at Petunia's. Why, Severus? Why did you take him back there?" Her green eyes begged him for answers, and frankly, he didn't have a very comforting one.

"Because that's what Dumbledore said to do," he said simply. "I already went against his orders by letting you spend the holidays with your nephew. What would we have done with the Potter boy? Kept on the run from town to town before Dumbledore or the law found us? Be realistic, Isabelle. I lived that sort of life before, and I was pretty damn sick of it."

"Harry. His name is Harry," Isabelle said weakly, not wanting to admit that he had a point.

"You gave him a wonderful holiday, and you should be really proud of that," he said, trying to cheer her up. "You're a good aunt. This has nothing to do with you being unfit. Not every teenager would take a part-time job just to make sure her nephew can see. When do you start, anyway?"

"Monday evening," she sniffled. "Five to ten. I should be home by ten-thirty."

"No more than fifteen hours a week," he cautioned. "You can take your time repaying me. I know you're good for the money."

Isabelle began sniffling all over again. "Why are you being so nice to me? When I was so horrible to you last night?"

"Because I know what it's like to lose someone you love. It sucks."

"Did you say the word sucks?" she asked in amazement, fighting back a laugh.

"It happens," he replied caustically, looking up as Sarah Lindsay appeared in the hallway. "Do you ever use the door?"

The petite blond grinned evilly. "Why, when there's a perfectly good fire escape? How goes it, Bubba? Hot date tonight?"

Severus actually blushed. "None of your business."

"Ooh, sounds racy," she teased, sitting between him and Isabelle. "Where're ya going?"

"Again, none--"

Sarah Lindsay stared at her fingernails, bored. "You are so lame sometimes. Anyway, I've come to kidnap Isabelle. Her presence is requested three doors down in the dump where our boys live."

"I don't know," Isabelle protested. "I don't really think I'm up for company, and I'm really tired, and--"

"Whatever. Come on. You're getting cheered up, whether you want it or not." She pulled an uncooperative Isabelle to her feet an pulled her to the door.

"Say hi to Stacey for me," she managed to say before Sarah Lindsay yanked her into the hallway.

-----

Despite the upheaval of the Christmas holidays, life quickly settled back into a fairly predictable routine. Isabelle still despised home economics, and kept pricking her finger while trying to hand-sew her stuffed lion. Ninth grade P.E. continued to be a pain; but, she was the star student in chemistry. All in all, school progressed uneventfully.

After the final bell, she usually had an hour or two to kill before work, so she spent the time in the library doing her homework. The only thing even remotely out of the ordinary was that most of the time, Phillip picked her up from work and they went out for an hour or two before her midnight curfew.

Then, they'd curl up on the sofa until one o'clock or so, when Phillip would fall asleep, Isabelle would wake him up, and force him to Apparate home. On the weekends, when they weren't working or studying, they would sometimes go out with friends, or just stay in, since Severus almost never spent the weekends in town. Isabelle always went to Mass on Sunday morning, while Phillip slept in. She'd politely greet Jake before Mass began, and fight the urge to ask him how on earth he ended up religious in nature.

Life was pretty good. Well, as good as it could be for Isabelle. Until one Saturday morning, she had an unexpected fight with Phillip. The brake calipers on the Corvette needed to be changed, because a snowstorm blew moisture into the brakes, and they weren't very safe. Naturally, she knew how to do it, but she needed ramps to put the car on. And it would've been nice if Phillip helped out, so she didn't have to spend her whole morning working on the car.

When she asked him about it, he blew up in her face, saying that he didn't think that her working on her own car was a very good idea, and that was what mechanics got paid to do. Isabelle couldn't believe how rude he was, considering that all she asked for were his ramps. She didn't even get to ask him to help her, or get even say another word before he yelled at her to take the car to Wiz-Mart, turned around, and stomped off.

She put on her shoes, walked down the hallway, and tentatively knocked on the door of Phillip's apartment. A disheveled and probably hung over, Jake answered, scowling down at her. He opened the door just wide enough to let her, but not the morning sunlight, inside.

"Phillip's not here," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"I know," Isabelle said, biting her lip to keep from crying. "I came looking for you."

"Why? Trouble in paradise or something? What does that have to do with me?" he asked meanly, frowning even deeper.

A tear threatened to roll down her face, so Isabelle quickly made for the door. "Nothing. Never mind, just forget I came here."

"Isabelle!" Jake called out, grabbing her arm to stop her. "Don't leave. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. What's up?"

In the semi-darkness, he looked so much like Sirius that she couldn't literally couldn't speak. A lump formed in her throat, nearly choking her. She began gasping for breath, which turned into an asthmatic wheeze. Jake quickly guided her to the sofa and sat her down, instructing her to put her head between her knees.

"Breathe really slowly," he said soothingly. "In through your nose and out through your mouth. That's it. Keep breathing."

After a minute, Isabelle's head cleared enough to say, "Thanks. You just reminded me of someone. Like seeing a ghost."

"Who?" he asked curiously.

"No one important," she lied, changing the subject to the reason she was there. "Phillip left me."

"What?" Jake loudly exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "I can't believe that," he swore profusely, "dumped you. When I get my hands on him, I'll..."

By now, Isabelle was holding her hands over her ears to block out the swearing. Does he even have to have Sirius' temper? she wondered. "Stop! Please stop. Phillip didn't dump me. He literally walked out on me a minute ago. We had a fight, and I don't know why."

"What happened?"

Isabelle quickly explained that her brakes needed to be changed, and when she told Phillip this, he freaked out on her, concluding with, "I don't understand."

"Well, if you knew your boy better, you would understand," Jake quietly said. "That's what I was getting at a while back. Phillip's a little touchy about cars."

"Why?"

"What's it worth to you?"

Isabelle considered the question. "Remember that truce you offered a while back?"

"Sure."

"What if I took you up on it?" she offered. Reading people's thoughts was a chore, anyway. Most people didn't have very intriguing thoughts to begin with.

"On one condition. Before I tell you what I know, I want to know something," Jake counter-offered, studying her closely. "What is your relationship to Bubba? Your real relationship. I want the whole story."

She sighed heavily. "It's a long story."

"Take it or leave it." He crossed his arms, and raised an eyebrow, knowing that he had the upper hand. Sure enough, Isabelle nodded her agreement, and summoned a small knife into her outstretched hand.

"What the...?" Jake's voice trailed off.

"Wizard contract. I want you to agree by blood oath that you will tell no one what I'm about to tell you," she said, staring him squarely in the eyes.

"What have you been through?" he mused, mostly to himself, watching her cut her index finger and wince in pain. She passed the knife to Jake, who did the same. "All right, let's do this. I agree not to tell your secrets, if you don't blab to Phillip what I tell you. Good enough?"

"Works for me." Isabelle wrinkled her nose, and quickly touched her bloody finger to his. "That was so gross."

"Your idea." He sat back down, sprawling out comfortably. "So, what's up with you and Bubba? I know for a fact that he's not blood related to you. In fact, I'm pretty sure he's Severus Snape."

"He is," she said simply.

Jake crossed his arms again. "Severus Snape, the Death Eater? That's pretty interesting company for you to keep. Are the rumors about you true, that you're a traitor to your family?"

"Of course not!" Isabelle gasped. She couldn't believe he even suggested that.

"Interesting that you didn't deny that the man you live with worked for the Dark Lord," Jake continued, clenching his jaw. "What's the price you had to pay for your life? What does he make you do? Because you don't have to live like that."

"H-he doesn't make me do anything," she stammered, getting up to run from the apartment again. And just like before, Jake caught her mid-stride. He forced her to turn to face him, despite her best efforts to get away.

"Whatever he made you do isn't your fault. You're safe now, I swear. Just tell me what happened, and I promise--"

"Nothing happened!" Isabelle screamed, in a frustrated, choked tone. "What is it with you people? First Phillip, and now you. Why do you assume that I had to trade favors for my life? Severus never, and would never, do that."

"He's a Death Eater," Jake answered through his clenched teeth, unconvinced that she was telling the truth. "My father's in the OMA; you know that. I heard plenty of stories about what Death Eaters did. How can you live with one?"

"I don't have a choice."

"I thought as much."

"You don't understand," she said helplessly, abandoning her fight.

"Then help me understand," he said, just as helplessly, before dropping her arms.

"I'm trying!" Isabelle insisted, marching to the sofa and pointing down. "So are you going to sit and listen, or what?"

"Fine," he mumbled, stomping back over to her. He obediently sat and waiting for her to speak, which took a minute because honestly, Isabelle didn't quite know where to begin.

"I guess I should start with my brother-in-law, James," she said slowly, still thinking.

"James Potter, the famous Quidditch player for England?"

"That's he," Isabelle confirmed. "I remember when he played for England. I was barely eight, and it was right after Lily came home to Dover to look after me. It was my first trip away from home. Well, my second, but I'd rather not get into that. Anyway, it was in Ireland, and I had a ball walking around Inish Shark with Harry's uncle."

"Sirius Black, you mean," Jake corrected her boldly, watching her face melt for a split second before regaining its cool composure. "Why don't you ever mention him by name? Why can't anyone mention him by name?"

Isabelle finally lost the vestiges of her self-control, bursting out, "Because I can't, that's why! The man whom I l--" she caught herself, "who raised me from childhood – I can't say his name because it'll piss Severus off. Don't you think I want to talk about him? About Sirius."

She said the last word so softly, hesitantly, that Jake knew there was more to her feelings for the man other than that Sirius raised her. But, he temporarily let that go, with only the one-word response, "Oh," followed by, "Tell me about Sirius Black then."

For the first time, her unreadable green eyes faded into a bright, happy sparkle. With a genuine smile, she said, "Well, I can't answer your question without doing that. See, James and Sirius grew up together. Along with James' twin sister, Regina. The three of them were inseparable. My sister Lily somehow got caught up in their vortex on their first train ride to Hogwarts, and never quite escaped."

"And Bubba went to school with them?"

Isabelle nodded. "Same year. Severus was in Slytherin house, but James and Sirius were both Gryffindors. Natural rivalry. There was bad blood between them for years; something about a prank gone wrong. But, things really got interesting in their seventh year. Sirius and Regina were down in the basement doing Lord only knows what, and stumbled across some information about their heritage that they didn't know how to handle."

"What?"

"I'm not totally sure. Something very important. Before then, they were very close. But after that, Sirius shut himself off from everyone, especially Regina, who turned to a certain Slytherin for the friendship she wasn't getting from Sirius. Then, after graduation, everyone went their separate ways. Lily came to Dover to raise me, James went to train for the Quidditch Cup, and Regina went to New York City."

"What of Sirius Black?"

"He planned to go to New York, too. But then he literally ran across a little eight-year-old girl who needed him very badly. So, he gave up on going there with the girl he'd loved since he could remember for me. That's why it's all my fault," Isabelle concluded, her chin quivering. Jake took the opportunity to put his arm around her shoulder companionably and pull her closer to him.

"What's all your fault?"

"All of this! If Sirius hadn't stayed with me, then Regina would've never married Severus," she choked out.

"Whoa! Back up here. I think I'm missing something," Jake exclaimed, shocked that a Potter would marry someone as seemingly repulsive as Severus Snape.

"Severus went to New York to get away from Regina because he fancied her," Isabelle explained. "They ran into each other, moved in together to save money on rent, fell in love, and got married. Secretly. No one knew anything about it."

"How Romeo and Juliet," Jake smirked.

"Yeah, except in this story, only Juliet dies. The Dark Lord, along with some rather unpleasant relatives of the Potters, decided to wipe out the whole family. Since Voldemort was already in New York City, he decided to start with Regina. To make a long story short, she got hooked on some really awful drugs laced with a virus designed to attack her heart."

"What?"

"They were supposed to kill her very slowly and painfully. The Dark Lord's a sadist like that. But Regina had a heart defect that no one knew about, so she developed a rare condition called infective endocarditis. Severus didn't have the money for her medicine, and didn't want to turn to her family for help since he didn't get along with James or Sirius, so he went to Voldemort. Basically, he sold his soul so she could live. That's how Severus became a Death Eater."

"Wow," Jake whistled, his opinion of Isabelle's guardian going up in his eyes a bit.

"To make another extremely long story short, to save her family's reputation, Regina divorced Severus and moved back to England. Then she stole Sirius away from me," she said in a purely venomous voice. "He was mine. But then she came back, and he started following her around like a stupid lovesick puppy."

"You don't like her."

"Regina Black always has been, and always will be, the thorn in my side. Even though she's dead, her ghost casts an impossibly large shadow that I'll never get out from under. She'll never let me be." Isabelle's eyes regained their usual hardness as she unconsciously clenched her fists.

"But she's dead," Jake pointed out.

"Which makes her a sainted martyr. At least that came in handy. As you know, she bloody married Sirius, and died giving birth to his child. Her heart finally failed," Isabelle said in a lilting, unsympathetic tone. "Things got really bad with the whole Voldemort deal, so our little family split in two. Since I'm a Muggle-born of a certain age, who happens to be related to important people, Sirius and James refused to send me back to Hogwarts. Said I was too pretty of a target. At least he said I was pretty..."

Confused, Jake burst out, "But you can't be Muggle-born."

"Why not?"

"Because...because I...I thought you were a half-blood, like my sister," he lied, scrambling to cover his outburst. Isabelle shrugged.

"Technically, I am a half-blood since my mum was a Squib. Six of one, half dozen of another."

"No, it's very important. I can't--"

"Can't be friends with a mudblood, is that it? You-you-you--" she stammered angrily.

"That's not it! Never mind. Forget I said anything. Keep going?" Jake asked, really not wanting her to know he had a hopeless crush on her. Not now, when she was with Phillip. That would be plain humiliating; to lose a girl to him. So Jake decided that explaining his personal policy of not dating Muggle-borns would be useless, not to mention that she'd probably get mad at him and call him bigoted.

"Where was I?" Isabelle asked, confused.

"The part where you weren't allowed to go back to Hogwarts," he reminded her.

"Oh, yeah. We abandoned our house in Dover because the location wasn't safe for the kids anymore. I guess that included me," she said with a wry laugh. "So, Lily, James and Harry hid out in Godric's Hollow, while Sirius, Gracie and I went to Sheffield. It wasn't the best situation, but we made it though."

"When was the last time you saw your sister?" Jake asked, pulling her even closer to him, wanting to comfort her but trying not to be too obvious about it. Distracted by grief and clueless about his intentions, Isabelle gratefully leaned on him for support, actually thankful that someone cared enough to ask the difficult questions.

"The last day of my fifth year term," Isabelle said thickly. "I said goodbye to she and James in King's Cross Station like it was nothing. I had to pretend like I wasn't scared, that nothing was wrong. It was so hard watching them walk away with Harry."

"I bet."

Now he turned around slightly towards her and wrapped his other arm around her, in what most people would consider a loose embrace, at the very least. He knew this was dangerous ground, especially if Phillip happened to walk inside. But Jake didn't care. Isabelle was upset, and she needed a hug, period.

"What happened the night your sister died?" Jake asked gently, debating on whether or not rubbing her back would be inappropriate. Though he decided it was, he did it anyway, figuring that if Isabelle really minded, she'd say something about it. But her mind was far away, on another continent, in another time, another life.

In a faraway, weak voice she recalled, "It was such a beautiful fall day. I really wanted to dress Gracie up and take her trick or treating, but Sirius said it was far too dangerous. We compromised by his bringing home an impossibly large bag of candy and various treats and such to play with."

"I thought you were alone when--"

"We were. Sirius left--" she shut her eyes tightly, picturing that last image of him walking through the door, "but I knew where the candy was, thank goodness. Gracie knew all about Halloween; she's a very smart child and wanted her candy, whether her father was there or not. Then the night came. I hate darkness, and couldn't sleep. Gracie was on edge anyway."

"From the candy?"

"That, and she's a funny throwback of a child. From the first, she was always very sensitive about things. Sirius worried about her, said that she was a little too aware of things for her age and was afraid that would burden her somehow." Isabelle lowered her voice and said in a confidential tone, "Gracie's grandmother was a Seer. We think she might've inherited some of Mummy P's gifts."

"Whoa! What crazy stuff's in the water over there? Seers, mind readers..."

Jake laughed, realizing why the Dark Lord would want to exterminate such a powerful family. Isabelle rolled her eyes and finally decided to set the record straight.

"I'm not a mind reader, technically. I'm a Discerner. That's different. I can only read a thought a person's thinking at the moment. If I can latch onto the thought, I can break into a person's mind. Kind of like following a thread from one end to the other. But if they're unreadable, forget it. It requires a small amount of cooperation."

"Or ignorance."

"Or ignorance," she agreed. "So all you have to do to hide something from me is to never think about it in my presence. Very simple."

Now you tell me, Jake groaned internally, feeling like a prize fool."So when did you realize something was wrong?"

"That night? When Gracie walked over to the window and pointed to the huge Dark Mark in the sky. Pretty big clue."

"Oh."

"Yeah. The light kept getting brighter, so I pretty well figured they were coming for us. I grabbed Gracie, ran upstairs, wrote a goodbye letter to my family, and hid with her in the vain hope that we wouldn't be found." Isabelle sat quietly for a minute, remembering. "Then I heard someone at the door."

She sat up perfectly straight, and her eyes took on an eerie look. "I knew that was it. I only prayed that they'd be merciful and kill Gracie quickly."

"Merciful? What's merciful about killing someone?" Jake nearly roared, his arms falling to his side limply, in shock.

"If you know someone's going to die," Isabelle said, staring him down, "and you knew how it was going to happen, how horrible it would be, wouldn't you kill them quickly instead? If you had the choice of watching someone be tortured to within an inch of her life, then killed, or a painless death – which would you choose?"

"I'd rather help the person escape."

"Fool! You stupid, ignorant fool!" she exclaimed, throwing up her hands, standing up, then pacing. "That's not an option. If you even hint at being a traitor, everything they do to other people, they'll do to you in a heartbeat. Live in a real world, Jake. Life isn't neat. Sometimes the right thing to do is to kill someone."

"Murder," he pronounced clearly. "It's murder."

"So, you wouldn't associate with a killer, then?" she challenged him. "Well, it's been nice knowing you."

Jake stared at her, wondering if she was joking, and flatly stated, "You killed someone. Why?"

"He needed killing," Isabelle shrugged.

"Oh," he said again, not knowing what to say to that. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nope."

"Okay, so what happened when the Death Eaters got to the door?" Jake asked, changing the subject.

"Death Eater, as in singular tense," Isabelle corrected. "It was Severus, who planned to quickly kill us, just like I'd hoped. But, the other Death Eaters ran away instead of following him to the house, giving us exactly enough time to escape. Severus decided to spare Regina's daughter's life. I was just the babysitter."

"And he ended up here with you," Jake concluded. "What about the baby?"

"The last I heard, Gracie's been adopted by a childless family. So, unlike Harry, Severus made sure she's well-provided for. Meanwhile, Bubba's looking after me to get on Dumbledore's good side so he can get a job back home this summer."

"He's leaving you?"

"I'll be an adult, even by your ridiculous American standards, this June. I can do what I want to with my life, and so can he."

"But, I thought y'all were friends."

"We are. But he misses home. We both do," Isabelle said softly. "And unlike me, he can go back home and lead a normal-ish life. He deserves to be happy. I want him to be happy."

"What about you? Are you going back, too?"

She shook her head no. "I like it here. Well, since I came back with Harry, I've liked it here. It's nice to have friends, you know?"

"Yeah, I do. So, are we going to fix that car of yours, or not?" Jake asked, standing up to leave. He needed time to process everything he'd heard, and besides, he'd rather not talk about Phillip, anyway. It was definitely to his advantage that Isabelle forgot all about the subject.