Chapter Twenty-Five
Dark Insights
Jennifer thought the holiday break would never end. With the girls taking up cots in her sitting room privacy became a very serious issue, making her resort to spending hours in her office and using minding the mice and getting ahead of potion making as an excuse. Often she found herself spending most of her time dozing off in her chair. The potions she was taking and the mere stress upon her body were sapping her energy and leaving her constantly tired, despite the constant presence of lukewarm coffee and tea at her side. Little time was spent with either the children or Severus, but neither of them seemed to notice; the four of them too busy preoccupying themselves or catching up on holiday homework, while Severus either concentrated on school related matters or poured over the newspapers as the hunt for her father continued. But Jennifer had resigned herself to the fact that for her father only two outcomes existed; her father's death, or that of Lucius. She was also coming to realize that the same could be said of her own situation.
She jotted down a line or two in her journal but soon lost her train of thought as she found herself lost in the memory of that first night, puzzling over something that had been troubling her. Carefully she opened her Puzzlebox, taking out all the empty phials she had left there during their stay at home. Her eyes fell then on her empty Pensieve.
Would a memory of a dream seem as real standing inside a Pensieve as a real memory did, she wondered, touching the gash on her arm and feeling the pain seeping through the potion she had taken. But then, the wound was real…even if she hadn't physically left; she had been very brutally and physically affected by both of them. Making up her mind at last, Jennifer locked the door and drew it out, pushing all the bottles into a basket on the floor and closing the box, setting it to the other side, pulling the Pensieve close in front of her. Taking out several strands from her mind, she tossed them in. She watched them swirl a moment, playing with the order before she finally touched the surface.
Once again she found herself in the dark strange mansion, hearing a man's scream followed by cold, feminine laughter. She watched herself wander down the stairs as she once again felt the presence of death. Where was she? The question plagued her as she followed herself down the stairs into the dark entryway and stepped upon the papery substance under foot. That was when it occurred to her what that actually was. It wasn't paper at all. It was some sort of large snakeskin. Just then, she heard the door open and saw a black cloudlike force pull her memory self forward and she found herself standing outside while the wild-eyed figure of Lucius Malfoy stood over her other self. She frowned, her attempts to read him coming as a blur as he took his hand against her face.
"I'm sure you have no idea just how long I've been wanting to do that," Lucius said venomously. "How long I have waited for this moment…how much of my life I spent under your unforgiving thumb stealing it away from that dark curse of yours!" he said, raising his voice in anger. "But…as you can see, that is no longer the case, no thanks to you. You have robbed me of everything, and I plan to return the favor. I have nothing left to pursue in the world, but I will not leave it until you have fully paid for what you did to me."
Jennifer frowned then, wondering about the way he phrased that, glancing at where Ciardoth stood behind her. Past her was only darkness. If only she had turned around, she thought as Lucius spoke the curse again. She had not needed to hear that; she had heard it over and over in her mind since that night. But she had hoped to see the outside of the building. Perhaps if she could only see where he was hiding, there'd be a chance…Jennifer stepped into another memory and back into the curious mansion, studying the architecture as carefully as she could.
It was the night that Neville had killed his parents. Immediately she forced herself to look away from her own image, trapped naked in front of her enemies, and concentrated on the others. She saw only pure revenge and hatred in Lucius' face; nothing more seemed to exist. No semblance…none at all… of the man who loved his granddaughter and raised a son and niece. In fact, it was so starkly missing that Jennifer knew something wasn't right. She realized now she had known that night something was wrong, but she had forced herself to push it back with the pain of the events. She turned then to look past the unidentifiable figures towards Neville, his face unreadable and his expression not his own…and yet…there, at least, hidden under spell upon spell of control was a tiny spark…a spark that was going to soon be permanently snuffed. Anger went through her then, and Malfoy's words blaming her sounded quite hollow to her ears. They would have died anyhow…she knew that. He admitted himself that he had been working on him for months. But had this been his first intention when he took Neville? Something made Jennifer doubt it, and she wondered about it…it was because, she realized, that Neville had been taken before that first night…that night that her Curse had ended and another began… she turned back then, focusing on a memory that had occurred just before this one.
Light met her eyes then from jack-o-lanterns floating above her head, the warmth of the Great Hall a stark contrast for where she had just been standing, and filled with life and laughter as students in masks and the castle ghosts who mingled, danced and told spooky stories to anyone who would stop and listen. She had very deliberately found reason to get Hans Hexendaas alone, a bit afraid that Severus might have come to some quick conclusions to their conversation. In some ways, Jennifer almost wished he had interrupted.
"So the power of the curse is directly dependent on the power of the suffering?" The memory Jennifer was saying. "What about, hypothetically speaking, one that may only last one generation, but is a revenge curse cast on the energy of a strong consequential death curse?"
"How long did someone suffer the consequential death curse?" he asked in a low voice. Jennifer shrugged.
"I don't know, it's just an example. Ten years, perhaps?"
"Type of death spell that finishes the consequential event?"
"Oh, pick one. How about Wasting Death," the memory Jennifer suggested.
"That can only be cast by a very strong dark wizard indeed," Hans mused, then shrugged. "And to go against such a strong force to begin with and be able to turn it around would take such an immense amount of power that I seriously doubt it can be stopped, well, short of death, of course. Death ends most curses, oddly enough," he said with a dry smile.
But the observing Jennifer found herself lightheaded as she heard something she hadn't before. Type of death spell that finishes the consequential event. Finishes? Jennifer thought, leaning back a moment and closing her eyes as if digesting that, another memory not in the Pensive itself jumping to mind. Did that mean what she thought it did?
Instantly, the scene changed again and Jennifer frowned as the mansion returned, finding herself in the first memory again despite the fact she didn't think she manipulated the strands to take her back there. But as she watched herself react once more to the scream and walk down the stairs, the image suddenly faded like a ghost, leaving Jennifer blinking in confusion.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" spoke an unmistakable voice behind her. Whirling around, Jennifer reached for her wand but found it missing. "You laid it down when you used the Pensieve, I believe, not that it would work," Lucius added with a thin cold smile.
"You can't have gotten in my office…how…"
"Not that I can't had I a reason, but it is hardly necessary," Lucius sneered. "I would think that a Potions Master would be a bit more careful on timing her own potion doses. You fell asleep. Very careless of you."
"Yes, it was," Jennifer agreed softly, gazing at him warily.
"I hope you don't plan on leaving these in here. It would be deeply careless on your part to leave them lying about when I know that husband of yours has access to your office. We wouldn't want any 'accidents,'" he said warningly.
"I'm not stupid enough to think that I could fool a curse in that way, Lucius, although I have been wondering how you fooled mine… or did you?" Jennifer asked as Lucius walked to gaze out the open door. "It seems Ciardoth brought me here too early that night. I heard your death scream."
"What you heard was the scream of life," Lucius snapped testily. "One cannot scream while dead."
"Nevertheless, you were dead," Jennifer pressed. "Ciardoth killed you."
"Ciardoth released me in the only way that I could be released!" Lucius shouted, his eyes full of hatred as he turned. "A mere instant out of a life that you can see has suffered little from the experience."
"No, you're wrong. You may be blind to it, but I'm not," Jennifer said. "As evil as you were, as terrible as you were, you were still human then. But you're not now, and losing that part of you has not only made you insane but has turned you into Ciardoth's slave."
Immediately he came at her, furious at her defiance and lack of fear as he pulled out his wand and a bolt of energy sliced across her face. It took all of Jennifer's will power to stand there instead of fall, not wanting to lose her brief upper hand.
"I am a slave to no one! No one!" Lucius growled, grabbing her arm and forcing her to look at him. "I have powers over dark magic now that even you can't begin to comprehend… that even Voldemort would have envied!"
"Voldemort was a slave as well, trapped by his own corruption," Jennifer said. "And the fact that whatever power you've acquired must have come from the very entity that brought you back only confirms that you answer to her beckon call."
"I answer only to revenge!"
"Does that mean you answer only to me, then?" Jennifer said, instantly knowing she had pushed too far.
In fury he tossed her backwards, the force of her blow against the rail breaking several of the spokes. Sharp pain in her lower right breast raked through her, a flash of light tumbling through her eyes as her thoughts went far back in time when she had faced Peter Pettigrew in the Forbidden Tomb. It had been that long since she had felt such severe pain, having trouble getting a full breath. Lucius growled then, climbing a few stairs to stand above her.
"I should let you die for that!"
"Be my guest," Jennifer said, but despite her attempts, her voice sounded raspy even to her ears.
"No, it is too soon."
Jennifer didn't have to look up to know it was Ciardoth, nor could she properly through the blur over her eyes even if she had. But before she could get out a last word of defiance, she felt a sudden dizziness and found herself lying on the floor near the door, the pain easing abruptly. As she took a breath, she realized that it hadn't gone away completely. She gritted her teeth in pain as she pushed herself gently up to stare at the woman in the doorway.
"We must not let the suffering end so easily, or so alone," Ciardoth finished.
"I will never betray my family, Ciardoth," Jennifer said. "I'll die from my own hand first." Ciardoth laughed, her high maniacal laughter reaching Jennifer's ears like nails on a chalkboard.
"You would never do such a thing, it is against your very nature! Were we to offer it even now, you wouldn't! Lucius, do give her your wand. She cannot harm us, for to her it's just a dream, but it may be one she never wakes up from. Let us test this threat!" Ciardoth said wickedly.
Lucius immediately took the wand out of his cane and held it out. Carefully Jennifer took it, holding her broken rib as she reached out to take it. But even before she had weighed it in her hand, her mind had already began to think of her family…the thought of them hearing that she had been found dead in her office…and who would find her but Severus. She remembered then how he had been after the Tomb…what others had said of his actions…then of when she had been Jacqueline; left without even knowing if she were alive or not. Her death wouldn't save them pain, she realized, her mind devastated by what Severus would have to go through. Would he know who had caused it? Would he go after Lucius and cause his own death? And what then would happen to the children? Her friends? Even Dumbledore? There is always an option, Jennifer. Yes, Jennifer agreed privately with him. As long as she was alive, there was hope of a solution, no matter how slim…and she was a Craw. Nothing, nothing at all would let her give up the fight to survive and persevere, no matter what the risk. Sighing, Jennifer turned the wand back over and handed it back out, attempting to ignore the second round of laughter it inspired.
"And I thought that husband of yours was a coward," Lucius said with distaste. "You are as pathetic as your father was for fleeing when he did."
"Of course he fled after what the Death Eaters made him do," Jennifer said angrily.
"Made him?" Lucius repeated with amusement. "Do you really believe we made him? A Craw?" he added sarcastically before glancing at Ciardoth. "Perhaps the game isn't quite over for today. I think it's time that we came out of her memories and have her witness one of my own."
"Will it prove amusing?" Ciardoth asked with interest.
"At least it will be to us," Lucius agreed. Ciardoth nodded, lifting her hand.
Helplessly, Jennifer watched as that had and everything around her faded into blackness, and for a time, it seemed as if she were all alone in a deep void where nothing at all existed save herself. But at last, the darkness seemed to grow more grey and less black until finally she could make out the outlines of trees and buildings. Cautiously she walked towards it, and the grey turned into the deep blue of twilight. Shadows moved through it, and within another few steps she saw that the shadows were robed figures.
She could also now see where she was. She could also guess when she was; for a hundred miles away, her mother was brushing her hair and trying to get her to go to bed for the night…the very night they had fled. They stood before a house that Jennifer herself had never entered, but she knew it well, for she had seen it in photos. It was the stone Scottish house her mother grew up in. Not one candle was lit in the window, but Jennifer suspected they had been just snuffed, and wisps of smoke curled from the chimney, black in the dim moonlight. Two men stood in the foreground, and Jennifer immediately recognized them both, for one was unmistakably her own father Thomas Craw, who was standing a mere half step away from Voldemort. Within the innermost circle behind them and directly behind, Jennifer saw a hooded figure with a jewel handled wand and knew it was Lucius. Beside him stood a woman with several rings upon her fingers, and Jennifer guessed it was Narcissa. But her observations stopped there, as the two figures ahead of them stepped over to the porch.
"Come, Riona, come and speak with us. We would have words with you and your…chosen spouse," said Voldemort with utmost distaste. "Come, I know you are there, although you would be better off to Apparate and leave your pathetically magicless husband to his fate. How anyone of such noble lineage could stoop to such a filthy bloodline boggles the mind."
"I didn't imagine for one instant that such ilk as you and your sort could understand such things." The voice of Jennifer's grandmother cut through the night like a knife, and although she could not really tell exactly where, she knew it was above them. "That would take insight, and compassion."
"Compassion as you've shown your own daughter all these years?" Thomas growled. There was a long pause before she spoke again.
"I warned her that your darkness would consume you in the end, Craw, as it does all of your family. Now by your presence here I see how right I was. I am not sure how you blinded my daughter's sight, and blinded she is. But I am not. Your faces may be covered, but I know well that you are messengers of death."
"I see your plea of guilty now becomes readily known," Voldemort said unconcernedly.
"What plea? You are no judge of guilt, Voldemort," Riona said.
"You amuse yourself to marry a Muggle, and yet you condemn your daughter's marriage to a pure blood, even ten years after the fact."
"I condemn my daughter's marriage to a Craw!" Riona shouted proudly. "His family is proof to me that blood can become so thick it can coagulate. Astrolobe may be magicless, but you know well the Corsivas are hardly without magic heritage…"
"He is still a Muggle…magicless by your own admission!" Voldemort snapped angrily. "You condemn this man for his magic heritage, and by all rights your lives now belong to him! I suggest you come out now if you would like us to be…well…partially merciful. If we must come in, it will not be."
"Here is your answer, then!" Riona said, and there was a flash of light as a spell was cast from one of the second story rooms. But Thomas' reflexes were quicker, blocking the spell from hitting Voldemort as a barrage went towards the window it had come from. Riona had cast a magic barrier of some kind that caused several of the spells to ricochet off in different directions, but it was evident the battle would not take long as Thomas blasted the door open and a large group of Death Eaters came in while a group below kept her preoccupied. It was then that Jennifer noticed a thin, lanky figure with catlike grace among those that stayed, slipping up against the building to get out of Riona's line of fire.
Jennifer felt her blood run cold in that moment, her heart catching in her throat as she walked over to get a better look at him, staring at the wand in his hand as he poised himself below the window. A commotion behind him drew his attention towards the porch, but by then she had already come to the conclusion that it was the young but unmistakable figure of Severus Snape behind the hood. The shock of it caused her not to react at first to the cries and pleas behind her, but as she walked over, her eyes were drawn around to see an older man tossed on the ground within a small circle of them, being subjected to the Cruciatus Curse.
"Stop! Stop it!" Riona shouted from the window, the wand fire ceasing.
"Take over, Thomas, no need to be shy," Voldemort said glibly. "After all, this Purge is for your wife and child's sake. Let the Muggle writhe."
"Crucio!" Thomas said, his voice wavering slightly as he cast it, and Jennifer watched in terror as the grey-haired man beneath them, the grandfather she had barely even known, doubled and flinched in pain. But the most chilling part of it was the laughter that broke out when it began again, and the random hateful, mocking comments thrown out from the crowd.
It was then that a witch with long white hair burst through the door, casting a disarming spell so powerful at Thomas that it knocked him into the figures standing next to him. Immediately others responded, quickly surrounding her and bringing her to her knees with a large variety of spells from pain to disease, her skin rippled with blisters and sores as she attempted to counter. But then a weakness spell hit her and caused her to drop her wand and she was dragged over to Voldemort and forced to the ground in front of him.
"This is what comes of witches that choose mud over blood. Ah, what a novel idea! A fitting end, I think…a punishment to fit the crime," Voldemort said with a cold smile. "But first thing's first. Get the Muggle out of the way, Thomas, he's hardly worth the energy, and he served our purpose getting her down here." With no more hesitation, Thomas raised his wand and, as Jennifer watched, cast the Killing Curse. The green light fell over Astrolobe as Riona screamed beside him, sobbing as the doubled-up body suddenly went limp. "Now, my powerful friend, I think it's time you took your true place in the inner circle of my Death Eaters by proving to us what you're truly capable of. I, of course, understand the power of your magic, but some of your comrades here may not yet respect it. So show them…show the world…show our enemies just what fate befalls those who turn against us in the name of their misguided pride. Transfigure her blood into mud." Thomas hesitated then, staring at Voldemort wordlessly. "Unless you don't have it in you, of course. Or perhaps you do not think purifying your family is worth it?"
"Don't listen to him, Thomas, he's lying!" Riona shouted. "I can see it in his face clearly now! He won't rest until every Truth Seeker is dead, including my daughter!"
"Do you think he's going to let you manipulate him after you've done nothing but condemn him all these years?" Voldemort sneered.
"I say it for my daughter's sake not his! Mark my words, Thomas. Kill me, and Alice will be next!"
"You have never cared for her sake!" Thomas suddenly barked angrily. "It has always been about yours!"
As he raised his wand, Jennifer looked away, falling to her knees and covering her eyes as the spell's words hit the woman, refusing to look at what have been nothing short of a gruesome sight as the cry of pain was suddenly cut short and a murmur of appreciation went up.
"Well done, Thomas," Voldemort's voice said delightedly over the murmur. "You may have the honor of calling up the Dark Mark! No one will forget what has happened here tonight. Let us leave them here and celebrate, for soon the rest our enemies will recoil in fear and know that their time will also soon come to an end!"
In sheer despair like the end of a bad nightmare, Jennifer pulled herself awake, tears streaming down her face as she leaned up from the Pensieve and in pure anger dashed it across the room and smashing it into pieces, the memories within escaping and pushing their way back into her mind. But their presence didn't dull what she had just seen…even now she found herself seeing her grandmother's writhing over and over again and heard the hatred in her father's words as he had turned upon them.
Ratfly, sensing her unusually high despair awoke and went over to her in attempts to try and comfort her. Distractedly she petted him but was really too angry and in too much pain to even think of such affections. She got up only a moment later, pushing open the half window to its fullest extent and tossing him out of it, staring out sightlessly as the bat flew up out of range with a face like marble shaped into a tragic muse. The frigid January air hit her face, stopping her tears, and yet she felt as if it was too fresh to breathe. In fact, she barely felt like she could breathe at all. The scream of her grandparents was still too fresh in her mind to hear anything else, even the anxious knock that rapped upon the door.
Severus entered then, the irate fruit bat still clinging to his shoulder in complete agitation after having gone straight to his office to alert him.
"What is going on? Jennifer, it's freezing out there. Are you all right?" Severus asked. He had other questions in mind, but he paused then as felt broken chips of pottery under his feet. "What on earth is that?"
"You were there," Jennifer said suddenly in such a strange tone that Severus became guarded, wary of the anger boiling under the surface of the apparent calm. "You never told me. Why?"
"I don't know what you're referring to. Where was I?" Severus frowned.
"You were there!" Jennifer repeated, turning around with clenched fists. "You were there the night my grandparents died, admit it! The night my father..." her words faltered then, unable to finish as her throat tightened again. Severus had gone completely ashen, closing the door with a wave of his hand.
"I cannot deny I was there," Severus said quietly, looking at the floor again and realizing what it had been. "That wasn't mine, was it?"
"No, of course not! How dare you accuse me of…"
"I wasn't accusing you! I merely… how did you find out?"
"Why were you keeping it from me?" Jennifer demanded.
"I wasn't precisely keeping it from you, Jennifer. I told you the when and the reasons I did what I did, which is more than I've told anyone short of Dumbledore, you know that very well. I witnessed a great deal of things that I do not like to recall, and that is one of them. There has never been any reason to bring it up. You already knew your father killed them."
"I didn't know how!" Jennifer shouted angrily.
"Does it matter? Especially now, after all these years?"
"It does to me!" Jennifer said.
"Jennifer, your father has killed quite a few people under many different circumstances…"
"Not like that! Not by transfiguring someone's blood. I always knew my father was cold and vengeful, perhaps even heartless, but never cruel…until now."
"Perhaps that is why it was never brought up," Severus admitted softly. "Jennifer, I don't know how you found out about this, and I realize the details may seem a bit harsh, but it doesn't change anything. Your father has long been remorseful for his actions and is condemned to live with them."
"Condemned to live with them? By all rights he should have been put to death for them, as should have everyone there!"
"Even me?" Severus asked in a low voice, but Jennifer's face remained cold.
"Just how many times did you stand there and watch as Voldemort tortured and murdered families, Severus? How many times did you participate in some way?" Jennifer said. Severus was quiet for a long time, meeting her gaze with a stern and steady gaze of his own, his face betraying the hurt he was attempting to hide.
"Jennifer, you've known that. You've known it before we even got married."
"Well, maybe I didn't really understand the true depth of what that meant until now," Jennifer said icily, grabbing her Puzzlebox under one arm before walking out of the room, holding onto her side in a peculiar manner. Severus stared after her for a long time before his eyes flicked back to the floor at the broken Pensieve.
Slumping into a chair, Severus covered his face a moment, having trouble making any sense of what just happened. Had her father said something, he wondered, perhaps at some other time? Had he sent her a letter? But why would he bring it up now? He leaned over and sifted through the mail on her desk, wondering if he should drop him a note, unable to shake the intense despair and heaviness he felt as he debated the only other person who might have told her. Gently putting the still agitated bat back upon his perch, Severus went to find Dumbledore.
