Chapter 15:
Immediately my eyes open. I have no idea where I am. Allowing another person to lead during apparation is a disorienting experience. Allowing my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, I am able to discern we are in a clearing, outside.
There is a small crowd appearing from the shadows all around us. I give a sharp intake of breath as I notice they all have white masks on. I turn to my right and see Lucius, still at my elbow, has a white face as well. A Death Eater meeting.
Straining my ears, I hear what I was fearing. A high, cold, nasal voice assails my eardrums just off to my right. And there he is. Voldemort.
"Ah, my followers." Hisses the voice. He is accompanied by another masked Death Eater, who remains steadfast at his side. I attempt to stay hidden behind Lucius, who, for the moment, appears content to let me do so.
Sliding a long-fingered, bony hand out from the folds of his robes, Voldemort rests his hand on the Death Eater at his side and whispers something in his ear. The response catches me off guard.
"Yes, my lord. The double batch will be ready in a few days' time. I assure you it will be perfect." Simpers the usually silky voice of my husband. Drawing back even further behind Lucius, I hear his voice cut across the silence.
"My lord," drawls the infuriating voice, "I have brought you a present. One Severus may be interested to see as well." I am thrust forward into the middle of the circle, falling clumsily to the ground.
I hear soft laughter from the group. Drawing up my courage, I stand and face Lord Voldemort directly, raising my chin proudly. I do not allow my eyes to drift sideways to my husband.
Voldemort strides forward, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "My dear Bena. I was under the impression I had ordered you dead. Yet here you stand, in front of me. Very much alive."
He snakes a hand out and caresses my jaw line. I repress a shudder and stand my ground. I am formulating a response when he speaks again, "Severus! Come here."
Severus strides forward. I am unable to make eye contact, as his black eyes are mostly hidden beneath his mask. As he steps even with Voldemort, the dark lord reaches over and raises my husband's mask.
Severus' eyes are glittering dangerously, though not with their customary malice. Instead, intense fear is visible. My resolve is shattering. If he does not have hope of us surviving this, I cannot find it myself.
"Now Severus, tell the others the recent developments involving dear Bena." I have already become tired of the affectionate term he has coupled with my name. I know unmasking Severus is indicative of something; I only wish I could remember what.
Severus clears his throat, "The Old Fool' he capitalizes the deragotory term, 'has hired my wife as the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, replacing the werewolf. As many of you will remember, I was ordered to kill Bena Hummell over eighteen years ago. Because of her close assocation with the Old Fool, she was able to escape and I was unable to track her. Until now. Since her return however, she has expressed a changing of opinion."
With this last statement, Severus turns to face Voldemort. The two of them stare at each other for a few moments. I hear my voice before it is called. Walking swiftly to the edge of the circle where Voldemort has situated himself, I drop elegantly to my knees, bringing my lips in one gesture to the dusty hems of Lord Voldemort's robes.
A small piece of twig or thorn had attached itself to the fabric and finds its way to my lips as I bow low. I struggle not to cry out as my flesh is pierced. I keep my ears as attentive as I can, hoping to catch some kind of reaction to my sudden action.
There is much whispering among the ranks. Lucius is chuckling lightly. Severus is too far away for me to discern. From Lord Vodemort is, unbelievably, emanating the sound of purring. I raise my head and look directly into his red eyes, my bottom lip bleeding slightly.
"She has spirit, Severus. How long have you been rehearsing this?"
"Not long, my lord," I respond to the question not directed at me. "Severus went through the finer parts of it, though I confess it was my idea originally." I rest my hindquarters on my heels, remaining on my knees in the dirt in front of him.
From the corner of my eye, I see Severus make the imperceptible movement towards his concealed wand.
"Why should I believe you, Hummell?" Voldemort whispers. "In the years preceding your disappearance you were quite vocal against me. You grew up under the care of Albus Dumbledore. While in the Wizarding States these past eighteen years, you have championed the causes of the muggles and muggle-lovers. I find it very difficult to believe you have suddenly had a change of heart. Convince me."
I shake my head to ensure a clear thought process. I raise myself to standing and begin to pace the few feet in front of the Dark Lord.
"I understand your reluctance to accept my claim. I would were I in your place. However, let me explain.' My pacing resembles that often found in my classroom, or of Albus in his study. Dumbledores find it comforting to walk, think, and talk. 'Yes, I have always expressed an opinion contrary to those professed by the witches and wizards in this circle. Much has changed in the past eighteen years. I have, in the past eighteen years, been free of my constant supervision from the 'Old Fool'. As I am sure you are aware, there is a movement within the Wizarding States that feels the culture of the muggles oppressive, boorish, and severely infracting upon the way of life we ought be allowed to live.
"In short, there is a growing minority in the States that sides with you, milord." I bow in his direction before continuing. "It has been my happy privilege to have been an integral member of this movement."
"Convince me, Bena." Voldemort drawls.
I look swiftly to the left and the right, before leaning in, creating an atmosphere of intimacy with the dark lord and longing among the Death Eaters.
"The heir of the Dumbledores has been shunted to the shadows long enough. I am ready to come into light. Permit, milord, to do so."
Immediately my eyes open. I have no idea where I am. Allowing another person to lead during apparation is a disorienting experience. Allowing my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, I am able to discern we are in a clearing, outside.
There is a small crowd appearing from the shadows all around us. I give a sharp intake of breath as I notice they all have white masks on. I turn to my right and see Lucius, still at my elbow, has a white face as well. A Death Eater meeting.
Straining my ears, I hear what I was fearing. A high, cold, nasal voice assails my eardrums just off to my right. And there he is. Voldemort.
"Ah, my followers." Hisses the voice. He is accompanied by another masked Death Eater, who remains steadfast at his side. I attempt to stay hidden behind Lucius, who, for the moment, appears content to let me do so.
Sliding a long-fingered, bony hand out from the folds of his robes, Voldemort rests his hand on the Death Eater at his side and whispers something in his ear. The response catches me off guard.
"Yes, my lord. The double batch will be ready in a few days' time. I assure you it will be perfect." Simpers the usually silky voice of my husband. Drawing back even further behind Lucius, I hear his voice cut across the silence.
"My lord," drawls the infuriating voice, "I have brought you a present. One Severus may be interested to see as well." I am thrust forward into the middle of the circle, falling clumsily to the ground.
I hear soft laughter from the group. Drawing up my courage, I stand and face Lord Voldemort directly, raising my chin proudly. I do not allow my eyes to drift sideways to my husband.
Voldemort strides forward, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "My dear Bena. I was under the impression I had ordered you dead. Yet here you stand, in front of me. Very much alive."
He snakes a hand out and caresses my jaw line. I repress a shudder and stand my ground. I am formulating a response when he speaks again, "Severus! Come here."
Severus strides forward. I am unable to make eye contact, as his black eyes are mostly hidden beneath his mask. As he steps even with Voldemort, the dark lord reaches over and raises my husband's mask.
Severus' eyes are glittering dangerously, though not with their customary malice. Instead, intense fear is visible. My resolve is shattering. If he does not have hope of us surviving this, I cannot find it myself.
"Now Severus, tell the others the recent developments involving dear Bena." I have already become tired of the affectionate term he has coupled with my name. I know unmasking Severus is indicative of something; I only wish I could remember what.
Severus clears his throat, "The Old Fool' he capitalizes the deragotory term, 'has hired my wife as the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, replacing the werewolf. As many of you will remember, I was ordered to kill Bena Hummell over eighteen years ago. Because of her close assocation with the Old Fool, she was able to escape and I was unable to track her. Until now. Since her return however, she has expressed a changing of opinion."
With this last statement, Severus turns to face Voldemort. The two of them stare at each other for a few moments. I hear my voice before it is called. Walking swiftly to the edge of the circle where Voldemort has situated himself, I drop elegantly to my knees, bringing my lips in one gesture to the dusty hems of Lord Voldemort's robes.
A small piece of twig or thorn had attached itself to the fabric and finds its way to my lips as I bow low. I struggle not to cry out as my flesh is pierced. I keep my ears as attentive as I can, hoping to catch some kind of reaction to my sudden action.
There is much whispering among the ranks. Lucius is chuckling lightly. Severus is too far away for me to discern. From Lord Vodemort is, unbelievably, emanating the sound of purring. I raise my head and look directly into his red eyes, my bottom lip bleeding slightly.
"She has spirit, Severus. How long have you been rehearsing this?"
"Not long, my lord," I respond to the question not directed at me. "Severus went through the finer parts of it, though I confess it was my idea originally." I rest my hindquarters on my heels, remaining on my knees in the dirt in front of him.
From the corner of my eye, I see Severus make the imperceptible movement towards his concealed wand.
"Why should I believe you, Hummell?" Voldemort whispers. "In the years preceding your disappearance you were quite vocal against me. You grew up under the care of Albus Dumbledore. While in the Wizarding States these past eighteen years, you have championed the causes of the muggles and muggle-lovers. I find it very difficult to believe you have suddenly had a change of heart. Convince me."
I shake my head to ensure a clear thought process. I raise myself to standing and begin to pace the few feet in front of the Dark Lord.
"I understand your reluctance to accept my claim. I would were I in your place. However, let me explain.' My pacing resembles that often found in my classroom, or of Albus in his study. Dumbledores find it comforting to walk, think, and talk. 'Yes, I have always expressed an opinion contrary to those professed by the witches and wizards in this circle. Much has changed in the past eighteen years. I have, in the past eighteen years, been free of my constant supervision from the 'Old Fool'. As I am sure you are aware, there is a movement within the Wizarding States that feels the culture of the muggles oppressive, boorish, and severely infracting upon the way of life we ought be allowed to live.
"In short, there is a growing minority in the States that sides with you, milord." I bow in his direction before continuing. "It has been my happy privilege to have been an integral member of this movement."
"Convince me, Bena." Voldemort drawls.
I look swiftly to the left and the right, before leaning in, creating an atmosphere of intimacy with the dark lord and longing among the Death Eaters.
"The heir of the Dumbledores has been shunted to the shadows long enough. I am ready to come into light. Permit, milord, to do so."