Chapter Seven: Resistance Is Futile

Adara sat in silence listening to all the Headmaster had to say. He told her of Snape's guarded secret of being a Deatheater, how he had traveled that path and what brought him to Hogwarts after Voldemort's fall from power as well as why Dumbledore kept him there. When the aged man had finished, she nodded once to let him know she understood and accepted the information.

"Do not worry, Sir. His secret is safe with me, as all secrets are."

"I knew I could trust you, Miss Sage, which is why I told you all of this." He steepled his fingers and rested his elbows upon his desk as he looked at her with a question in his eyes. After a brief pause, he finally spoke allowed the curiosity in his eyes. "How did you find out about Severus in the first place?"

Adara smiled crookedly, the scar at the corner of her mouth never allowing her to give a full smile, as she spoke. "It's quite simple really. The headaches I was receiving were caused by the Professor. Whenever Voldemort calls for his dark followers, the mark on their arms burns them. If I am near at that time, a violent headache comes over me. That's how I detect those like Professor Snape. I thought you knew that, Sir."

"No, my dear, I didn't. I knew you had a sense about these things, but I had no idea how your body and mind reacted to them." There came another pause as Dumbledore seemed to be thinking of something. "How is the potion working?"

"Perfectly, Sir. I could not have asked for anything better. I have slept better in these past couple of nights than I have in years."

"I'm glad to hear that." He stood and walked around his desk towards her. He raised a hand as if to place it on her shoulder, then seemed to think better of it when she winced unintentionally. "It still affects you to this day. I wish there were more I could do for you, child. If only there were some way to take away the pain and fear within you."

"I will be fine one day. Do not worry over me." Adara's lips curved upwards in a sweet, childlike smile. "One day all will be well. Until then, I must simply carry this burden and allow the healing process to take care of itself."

The Headmaster nodded and looked at her knowingly. He was well aware of her past and the dreams that haunted her almost nightly. It would indeed take many more years for her to recover from her experiences. "Very well, Miss Sage. I'll leave this to time, as I always have. However, as always, if you ever have need of my counsel, or even simply my company, I am always here for you."

She nodded and stood with a small grin. "Yes, I know. And I have always appreciated that, Headmaster. You have been like a father to me for many years and I feel as though you will be for many years to come." She turned away from him then and walked to the door. "I should be on my way now. Thank you for everything and I pray you will be well." Adara swept from the room and walked back to her own.

Spending time with Dumbledore always seemed shorter than it really was. Though time sped past for Adara while she was in his office conversing with him, hours had actually gone by and it was already close to dinnertime. After quickly changing in her room, Adara left for the Great Hall. As usual, the food that was served was amazing. Everything was always made so perfectly and few people gave the house elves of Hogwarts enough credit for the delicacies that covered the tables on a daily basis.

Supper ended in the usual manner and everyone made their way out of the Hall. Adara walked along the corridors until she reached the library. She pulled three books about Deatheaters from the shelves and began to read. After skimming through the books, she could not find what she was looking for and decided to put them back. She approached Pince, the librarian, and asked to enter the restricted section.

"Is there something in particular you are looking for, Miss Sage?"

"Yes, actually. I wish to find the book which contains documentation of the families and various people Vol..." Pince shuddered forcing Adara to choose her words more carefully. "...You-Know-Who has killed."

The woman nodded and unlocked the room where the material could be found. The two of them searched through the shelves until Pince found what Adara wanted. She handed the book over with a grim expression. "I take it there's something in particular you wish to find?"

"Yes there is." Adara gave no more of an explanation and took the tome back to an empty table. Her eyes quickly skimmed over the pages until she found what she was searching for. The passage was about a race of creatures, now extinct, that Voldemort had feared above all things. Even more so than Dumbledore himself. They were the bringers of life and death. With a touch, they could cause excruciating pain in any Deatheater and with little more than that, they could kill. Voldemort knew his fate would be sealed should these creatures ever find him. He sent out thousands of his underlings to wipe them out. Little was ever known about them. It was a race without a name, and now without life.

Adara sighed quietly to herself and closed the volume. She then made her way back to her room for the night. Sleep, as it should have been, was dreamless, but something in the back of her mind sought to be freed.

Three weeks of routine and bliss passed before the potion gave way to the power of Adara's mind. She had fallen asleep after a long, hard day of doing errands for Professor Graft when everything flooded to the surface once more.

A child of nine slept peacefully in her bed when something woke her in the middle of the night. She looked around with a dazed expression on her face wondering what it was that disturbed her slumber. A dark corner caught and held her attention. She could see nothing but shadow, but her senses told her someone or something was there. Something she could not see, hear or smell, only feel the presence of.

She slipped down from her small bed and walked to the wall where the light switch could be found. She would not have the opportunity to turn the lights on however. A hand gripped her slender wrist, twisted her arm behind her back and hurled her to the floor. When she managed to turn herself over, a black cloaked figure seemed to form from the very shadows of the room. Almost immediately, the child leapt to her feet and ran towards the window, a silent scream trying to escape her muted throat.

Moving with all the speed and agility of a cat, the intruder was upon her again. His fingers coiled into the girl's long hair and slammed her up against the wall before her feet could take her to safety. She felt liquid trickle down her forehead and knew instantly that it was her blood. The creature lifted her form with ease and pinned her down upon the cot she slept in. Somehow knowing what lay in store for her, she wriggled and squirmed in a desperate attempt to free herself from the terrible hands that held her in place. She tried a second time to cry out for help, and again her voice failed her. Her nine year old mind raced and searched for a way to break free, but nothing came to her.

A glint of white from beneath the cowl of the black cloak caught her eyes. Teeth. Horribly sharp and pointed teeth. Was this a vampire preparing to devour her? The elongated canines sunk deeply into her neck forcing her to lash out in agony. It seemed the more she fought, the fiercer he became, and the more pleasure he got from the torture.

Hours seemed to be passing where only minutes had been as claws tore cloth from flesh. No longer did her cries come in short spurts, but a singular howl tried forcing itself from her lips. The nails raked over her skin, tearing it from her body and digging trenches into her. Blood spilled over the linen covering the small bed and body. Again those teeth came down to greet her throat. She could now feel her lungs filling with the very liquid that was flowing from her body. She lunged herself from one side to the other trying harder and harder to escape the torment.

Seconds after, her legs were forced open and a stabbing pain struck into her. The child's back arched, her own nails dug into fabric rather than flesh and her jaw clenched tightly. He seemed to pulsate inside her, now ripping her open in new ways. By the end of his enjoyment, she was lying there limp and close to death. She felt nothing but numbness as her breath came in quick, shallow gasps.

Then he spoke in a soft, hissing whisper. "I saved all this for you, my child. You shall never know trust, never know love and you will be consumed by hatred and pain. Death is not necessary for you, dear one. You shall never be able to rise against me. I have saved only three things, and here are my reasons. Your feet I've spared so that others might see the curse I have laid upon you. Your hands remain unharmed for I had use of them. And your face is the last. For all of your beauty you will forever be a breaker of hearts and a harbinger of deceit because I have taken from you the one thing that could ever make you stronger than I. Love." As suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone again without a trace. A dim light appeared in her room, then darkness swallowed her completely.

Adara's eyes slowly flitted open as light streamed into her room from her open window. Her entire body convulsed without pause making it nigh impossible for her to breathe. She looked around with deep confusion wondering why the potion no longer worked. She hesitantly rose from her four poster bed and made her way to the privy. When her shower was finished, she stepped from the false waterfall, dried, dressed and left her room for breakfast as was her typical routine. That day would be anything but typical however.

As she entered the Great Hall, her eyes fell upon Severus Snape. He did not seem to notice her stare until she arrived at the table. The Professor glanced up and gave an annoyed glare as he watched her approach. She quickly turned her eyes away, not having realized that she was looking at him so intently. Her instincts had never given her a reason to question them, and now was certainly no different than before. However, if Dumbledore trusted this man, then so would she. Something about Snape still caused her to be wary, but she shoved those feelings aside deciding that the Headmaster knew what was best.

When breakfast was over and done, Adara walked off to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom to assist Professor Graft.

"Good morning, Sir," she greeted him as she entered.

"Morning, Miss Sage. Could you help me with these boxes?"

"Of course." Adara made her way to the front of the room and picked up a box. "Where shall I put it, Sir?"

The Professor gave her a startled look. "You can lift that yourself?"

"It isn't that heavy, Professor," she responded simply.

"Not that heavy. Huh." He shook his head and pointed to a corner of the room. "Just set it down over there. Be careful with it."

Adara nodded and proceeded to place the box where the Professor had indicated, then walked back to retrieve another. Again he gave her a strange look and told her where to place the following boxes. She performed her tasks as requested and moved to her usual seat. A light knock came to the classroom door and Professor Snape entered. He eyed Adara suspiciously then looked to Graft.

"Do you have my order?"

"Yes, right here." Graft turned to Adara with a serious expression. "Fetch me that first box, Miss Sage."

She stood, raised the box from the floor again and strolled back to Professor Graft. "Here, Sir."

"Thank you, however I think I'll let you deal with this. Follow Professor Snape and put the box wherever he wants it."

She nodded once more and turned Snape obediently. His eyes narrowed a moment in a glare, but at the same time they seemed to be questioning and weighing her. "This way."