Fanfiction based in the world of Harry Potter, created by JKR. Her characters are hers. Original characters are mine. No pecuniary rewards. Please see first chapter for full disclaimers and description.
Thank you to my Beta, Elaine!
Chapter 30: Death Eater Games
He was gone almost an hour, and it had taken every drop of her newly self-trained self-control not to betray her concern. She was aware of him almost as soon as he returned to the room, but could not turn to look at him, as Gwen Mulciber was currently relating an anecdote and commanding attention.
"Oh, Rowena, you are out of Champagne. You must have more so you can toast me properly on my successful conquest," Gwen said with that smile that left the blood running cold. "It's quite a feather in my cap, you see, to have a cousin of the Malfoys paying addresses to me, no matter how distantly related."
She stopped a passing house elf and began to pass fresh champagne to the small group of women, apparently at random. Still, Rowena hadn't listened to Moody for all these past months or lived with Severus without developing a modicum of suspicion, and she noticed that Gwen picked up the glass she passed to her with an open hand over the top of the glass, her fingers spread across the rim. It would have been easy to drop something inside from the palm of her hand in an unseen instant, and she accepted the glass with trepidation.
"So," said Gwen, with a smile that now lit her face with a fair degree of malicious amusement, "We must all drink to my soon-to-be-announced engagement."
She raised her own glass, and the women around did likewise, as did Rowena, with bland murmurs of 'Congratulations'. But when the others raised their crystal flutes to their lips and drank, "Accio!" Rowena's glass flew from her hand, to be caught deftly by Severus who was only a few paces away. No one else would have known him well enough to notice, but he looked paler than usual, and there was a tightness around his eyes that she had come to associate with the after-effects of Crucio.
"My goodness, Severus, are you so possessive that you don't allow your fiancée to toast another woman's good fortune?" Gwen asked, though she looked rather pale and worried as she spoke, and her playful laugh was shrill.
"Only when said woman is trying to poison her," he said coolly. The room had fallen silent from the moment he had raised his wand to summon the glass, and now all eyes were upon their small little group. A collective gasp arose, in shock at the accusation. The other women who had also been standing and toasting Gwen Mulciber all dropped their glasses to shatter on the shining hardwood floor.
"Don't be silly, Severus," Gwen said, fawning and batting long eyelashes, her blue eyes huge in her lovely face. "I wouldn't dream of harming her. Why, look, everyone else who drank to me is fine."
Severus held the glass in his hand out to the buxom young woman. "Drink it, then," he commanded.
"Oh, I couldn't possibly," she demurred, "I've had enough already. I would hardly be a credit to my new intended if I over-imbibed on Lucius's fine champagne, would I?" Her smile was a bit frozen now, and she was clearly looking about the room as though hoping for a defender.
Lucius strode forward through the crowd, his wand in hand, "Reparo", he said as he cleaned the broken glass from the floor. A house elf scurried by and collected the glasses, cleaning the champagne from the floor.
"Is there a problem Severus, Gwen?" he asked politely. Another man approached that Rowena seemed to recall was Mulciber senior, the woman's father, though she couldn't remember his first name.
"I am preventing attempted murder," Severus said coolly, as though he had said, "I am deciding between chocolate cake or treacle fudge for dessert."
"Really, now, that is going too far!" exclaimed the Mulciber man. He seemed to be in advanced middle age, but the resemblance to his daughter was clear. "Where's the proof of that?" he asked, swelling like a bullfrog in indignation.
He seemed to deflate at once, and his rather ruddy complexion became blotchy and sickly looking when Severus tipped the glass to pour some of the innocently bubbling champagne out onto a nearby houseplant.
As soon as the liquid touched the living material of the leaves, it sizzled and hissed, blackening the plant instantly before eating its way through the wicker pot and even a small hole in the elegant wooden table upon which it sat. Before it could drip onto the expensive hardwood floor, Severus waved his wand, "Evanesco", and the liquid was gone, though the acrid stench remained in the air.
"Very foolish, Miss Mulciber, to try and murder my fiancée with one of my own acids, but no doubt you found the irony amusing?" he asked. His tone was dry, almost amused, but there was only black fury in his face.
"Lucius, I request from you the Right of Champion. I realize it should be yours as Host of this event, but you will grant my request in light of the circumstance?" he asked lightly, though his gaze never left that of the pretty young woman who was now standing in shocked horror.
"You wouldn't dare claim Right of Champion over me!" she said, trying to sound indignant and enraged, though her voice shook. "Daddy, you must make him see reason. The woman is a filthy half-blood and her brother is a werewolf! The Master would never let this be!!"
A collective hiss sounded from the crowd that was gradually surrounding them, approaching to watch with avid interest, though none appeared intent to interfere. Rowena could easily guess that 'the Master' did not like to be referenced in mixed company where not everyone was among the 'faithful'.
"You made your bed, Gwenneth, now you must lie in it," her father said, though he seemed to be aging before Rowena's eyes, and he turned and left the room. The crowd parted to allow him to pass and closed again afterwards, everyone watching with sickening eagerness.
"Lucius," she said, now appealing to the 'host'. "Do not give him Right of Champion, he is not reasonable! I didn't intend to kill her—it's a simple little acid, she would have been a wee bit injured. It's just as he said—it's one of his own. He could have given her the antidote in an instant and no harm done. He accuses me of attempted murder when all I did was a little prank!"
"She is his fiancée, Miss Mulciber. No one has better claim to Right than he does. This is not your first transgression; you have been marked for a 'reminder' to be given this evening already. Unfortunately, I believe your father is right, you have sealed your own fate in this.
"Severus, I grant you Right, but first you must administer the commanded discipline for prior incidents. Would you like me to remove Miss Lupin from the proceedings?"
Severus nodded, but Rowena said, "No!" and moved closer to him, "I don't understand what's going on, but I'm staying right here."
Severus refused to look at her, though tension virtually radiated off of him. Lucius nodded and cast her an amused glance, and then stepped away so that it was only the three of them in the center of the room. Gwen Mulciber now stood as though trying bravely to face the executioner, trembling violently. Whatever was occurring, it was clear that in this house among these people, it was considered "acceptable".
"You have failed to follow specific directions resulting in failure of the final goal and wasted resources. You will now be reminded why that is not acceptable," Severus intoned as though scolding a wayward student. He then raised his wand—his Dark Wand she noticed—and uttered the curse almost lazily…
"Crucio!"
The pretty young woman, who had tried to stand so proud and defiant a moment before, crumpled to the floor, screaming in agony. She sounded as though she were being boiled alive in hot pitch! Rowena had experienced the Cruciatus Curse occasionally in her work researching different attempts at countering it. However, her fellow lab partners did not possess the necessary desire to inflict pain to make it very effective. Still, it had been quite painful, and it was shocking to see it so casually accepted by the entire room full of people… and performed with such an air of perfect detachment by her husband!
Everyone else watched in stoic silence. Rowena's hand flew to her mouth and she bit on her knuckle of her finger to prevent herself from screaming with the girl. Her other hand reached out to touch Severus's arm, but she pulled back before making contact. This was indeed upsetting for her to witness—even though he had tried to prepare her for this very thing. Knowing a thing in theory was very different from seeing it in practice. She knew this from years of research… but she was now getting a harsh demonstration of that Truth!
The "discipline" lasted precisely three minutes. When it ended, the screams stopped, and the girl knelt on the floor, panting and whimpering, attempting to regain some level of composure, smoothing the silk of her skin-hugging dress. She was trembling violently. Long, tangled whips of her shiny black hair had come out of the knot to hang raggedly about her face. She was drenched in perspiration and tears so that she looked very bedraggled.
"Stand, Mulciber, and choose your final fate," Severus said flatly, utterly without mercy or even expression in his tone.
The girl stood on trembling legs and did her best to resume her air of defiant dignity in spite of her appearance. "What are my choices?" she asked hoarsely, her voice raw from screaming.
"Draw your wand, or finish the 'toast'," Severus said, with a very twisted smile on his face as he held the still half-full glass of poisoned champagne out to her.
Rowena felt hands on her shoulders—gentle, feminine hands, and a soft voice in her ear, "Rowena, dear, you have done very well, but you must step back now… come with me," Narcissa said, with none of her usual sarcasm or mockery in her tones.
Rowena looked over her shoulder, unaware of how huge and terrified her eyes had become as she looked wildly about, trying to find something familiar upon which to cling.
"That's right, dear. It's distressing, I know, but discipline must be maintained. You've done very well. You can stay here, but you must step back. You'll learn. It will get easier with time," Narcissa crooned.
Rowena stepped back among the crowd, though they all made room for her. The thought that there could be enough "time" in the world for this to "get easier" was laughable! She stood on the edge of the circle so that her view was unobstructed and watched in horrified fascination… what was that Muggle expression? Like watching a train wreck? She was sickened, yet couldn't turn away.
In a flash Gwen knocked the poisoned cup out of Severus's hand. He waved his wand and vanished the tainted liquid before it could do any damage among the shattered glass, and bowed.
"Twenty Paces!" Lucius called out formally, and the ring of people stepped back even more while Severus and Gwen stood back to back and paced themselves apart. Rowena could not overcome the numbness of shock, even as her thoughts whirled in panicked contemplation. The scene before her was almost comical even as it was horrific. How could everyone be so calm when spells were about to fly? Why weren't there barrier charms being erected to protect the onlookers? What if Gwen used Avada Kedavra on Severus?
As if in slow motion, they reached the end of their paces and each spun on their heel, wand leveled.
"Avada…" Gwen shrieked shrilly.
Rowena gasped in terror.
"Avada Kedavra," Severus said in his normal, calm baritone voice with an air of easy indifference.
The jet of green light hit the beautiful young woman in the chest before she had begun the first syllable of the second word, and she fell, lifeless, to the floor. Her lovely clear blue eyes with their ring of fine dark lashes were frozen in an open expression of terror.
Rowena fainted dead away.
Voices washed in and out of her consciousness.
"She has a fairly low tolerance for your activities, Severus. Narcissa seems to think that her fondness for you will outweigh her quaint idealism and that you might make a Death Eater's Woman out of her yet. Not that you'd be allowed to wed her, of course, but Narcissa thinks she could be trained to be a tolerable and perhaps even useful companion. I think you'd be safer just to plan to Oblivate her on a regular basis until you've tired of her."
"That is my concern, Lucius."
"Yours and the Master's."
"He wishes information from her still."
"Yes. But not at the risk of her exposing us or learning more than she should. Your path becomes more dangerous every day. You do know the Master suspects you of Fudge's death?"
"He would probably not enjoy the irony of the fact that Dumbledore suspects me of the same."
"Are their suspicions grounded?"
"Don't be ridiculous."
"You are the master of non-answers, Severus, but I fear I would believe nothing you told me anyway."
"The feeling is mutual, Lucius."
"Undoubtedly."
She could feel a soft surface beneath her, but the back of her head ached as though she had been hit there. The voices sounded familiar, and she remembered the sense of fear and danger of the evening. She forced herself not to try and open her eyes until she had regained a clear recollection of the evening thus far.
Severus had killed a woman. Gwen Mulciber. Dead. The Killing Curse. He had used the Cruciatus on her moments before. Rowena herself had been shocked and frightened. Her fear for Severus had been foremost in her mind, of course. But she couldn't deny the strange sense of unease that she felt at the very casual, easy way in which Severus had performed the killing curse. She had never seen anyone kill anyone else before! To see it at the hand of Severus was more disturbing than she cared to examine just now. She must have fainted and hit her head when she fell. But where was she now? How much time had passed?
There was a burning, tingling sensation against her cheek. She remembered the Veritaserum Antidote there… someone must have given her Veritaserum while she was unconscious!
A door opened and another voice was heard, cold and high-pitched.
"You know what I expect from you. I will remain here, unseen, and not participate so long as it is done properly. I need not tell you, Severus, that this is your last chance to prove yourself to me."
"Yes, My Lord. Understood."
Was that really you-know-who? Surely not! The thought was chilling--more than she could consciously accept at the moment in light of her other distresses of the evening. She still felt thick and fuzzy from whatever had caused her unconsciousness, and so the suspicion and evidence to support it mercifully fled her awareness.
She heard a creaking sound like someone sitting down on an old piece of furniture and the rustling of fabric. Her heart was pounding in terror so that it would soon be impossible for her to feign the even breathing of unconsciousness. She moaned and raised her hand to the back of her head, touching the lump she found there gingerly.
"Ah, Rowena, it is well to see you awake. You gave us a bit of a fright."
She was in a small parlor that she did not remember seeing before, lying on a chaise. Lucius was standing next to her, smiling down at her with insincere concern. Remembering the burn in her cheek, she steeled her Occlumency and gazed at him blankly.
"My head hurts."
"You fell when you fainted and hit your head on a chair. Severus brought you in here. You've been unconscious for nearly half an hour."
"That woman tried to poison me," she said dully, trying to buy time to think while remaining within the appearance of Veritaserum influence.
"Yes, but that has been dealt with most effectively. I'm afraid though, while you are here, that we must ask you a few questions. Try not to be frightened. You will leave here unharmed, and I would not allow you to have any unpleasant recollections of my home."
She nodded blankly. To her surprise, Severus stepped around Lucius, and Lucius stepped away. He looked like a stranger to her. His face was so expressionless that she thought briefly, wildly, that he wore his Death Eater mask. Even his black eyes did not glitter with their usual fire, but were flat and dull. For the briefest flash of an instant she felt a surge of repulsion—not from herself but through their Bond—a signal. He wanted her to use her Portkey, to leave, now. It was strong, urgent, and gone before there was any possibility of detection.
It was an effort to keep her face blank. She swallowed the fear trying to rise up inside of her, threatening to suffocate her. But she held his eyes and lowered her Occlumency for an equally brief flash. "NO", she sent, clearly, stubbornly. She knew that if she left now, Severus's life was utterly forfeit. She would not leave him.
"Are you a member of the Order of the Phoenix?" he asked flatly.
"Yes."
"What is your role there?"
"I research counter-spells for Albus Dumbledore when the Aurors encounter new Dark spells."
"What about the school wards?" His voice was utterly without expression.
Now she had to be cautious. "I did some research for the wards when we expanded them to include Hogsmeade."
"How do you break through the wards?"
"I don't know." That was true. She had used the same random-generation factor at Hogwarts that she had used at Azkaban. With time, she could probably break them, but she had designed them to be as unbreakable as possible—even to herself.
"Crucio!"The curse took her utterly by surprise… and coming from SEVERUS!! She had barely registered that information when her body was awash in agony the likes of which she had never, ever imagined. Her lab experiences with this curse had been unpleasantly like being casually dipped into a pot of boiling water.
This was like being immersed in the very fires of hell. Even the strands of her hair felt as though they were screaming in pain. Sharp, burning agony shot along every nerve, every synapse so that she had no awareness of any other existence. Pain was all there was, all there had ever been. Death would be merciful.
And then it stopped.
She was panting and crying, curled in a ball on the chaise, her body covered in cold sweat. She didn't know how long she had been under the curse, hours at least.
"It is very difficult to lie through Veritaserum, Miss Lupin. I would not have believed you capable of the effort. Do not exert yourself so again. I doubt you could tolerate more than fifteen seconds of the Cruciatus. Now. How do you break the Hogwarts wards?"
Fifteen seconds!?! That had only been fifteen seconds?? She fell back almost despairingly against the chaise and shook her head.
"I don't know!" she said with more emotion than she intended. Her voice was hoarse and weak, not unlike that of the woman who he killed this evening. She must have been screaming, though she was unaware of it. "I designed the wards to be random. I might be able to work the calculations eventually to break through, but right now I don't have the means to do so."
"That is most inconvenient."
"That was the idea."
"Crucio!"Again the mind-numbing pain washed over her. No coherent thought was possible. Images passed through her agony-addled brain. Flames. Boiling pitch. The fiery agony of the flaying hex and the raw exposed nerves that burned with exposure to air.
As suddenly as it started, it was over. She was weeping… no that was too gentle a word; she was sobbing wretchedly, cold sweat causing the satin of her gown to cling uncomfortably to her flesh.
"Do not cheek, Lupin. You live at the pleasure of the Master."
"Death would be more merciful."
"The Master is not known for His Mercy. What is your knowledge of Harry Potter?"
Even in her fear and pain, she noticed that Severus was carefully asking questions to which the Dark Lord already had answers. It was an odd sensation to be so numb with terror, and yet somehow retain a pocket of her mind that could view the proceedings impassively. If he had been given instructions to 'torture' her for whatever reason, then she would give him reason to do so… as long as she could maintain her rational thoughts enough to overcome her fear at least.
"He is a 16 year-old Gryffindor student who is very good at Quidditch and Defense Against the Dark Arts, but average at about everything else. I believe he fancies Ginny Weasley."
"Crucio!"This truly was the fiery pit of Hell. She had no sense of vision, of hearing, no knowledge of the passage of time or where her own body was in space. The universe existed in pain.
Sharp. Stabbing. Burning. Flaying. Agonizing.
Again it was over suddenly, and she found herself struggling to move out of the fetal ball she had curled into. Every joint ached with the after-effects, yet it was almost an ecstatic release to have the pain lifted. Her scientific brain recognized the beginnings of the effect of endorphins. The unnatural euphoria that was likely to result from this, if this cycle continued, would make Occlumency much more difficult. Severus was barely looking at her, but Lucius stood gazing at her intently throughout the questioning.
"Harry Potter. His mental connection to the Master. Explain what you know." The command was clipped, as though spoken through clenched teeth. She could hardly recognize the voice as Severus's, even as much as his face appeared that of a stranger.
"They are connected somehow by the Curse that Failed to kill him," she gasped weakly. They had discussed the curse so frequently when she had worked at the Ministry, and later when she came to work for Albus, that it seemed 'capitalized' in her mind, a proper title, "The Curse that Failed".
"When you-know-who used Harry's blood to return to a body, he strengthened that connection. Pretty stupid thing for a supposedly brilliant evil-master-mind to do, if you ask me."
"Crucio!"This time, as she descended into the excruciating agony for which there were no words to properly describe… there was an end. Blissfully, mercifully, unexpectedly, she lost consciousness completely.
A/N: Next chapter will be up in about a week, (Holidays are getting busy). We will see how they deal with the consequences of these 'games' they are forced to play.
Speaking of games, and in a shameless pimping of myself, please check out my brand-new website from my author's profile page. I have enjoyed many Harry Potter based role playing games except for one serious problem—they were almost universally owned, ran, and operated by college students or younger. These "kids" are extremely enthusiastic and imaginative—but also extremely transient. I've gotten tired of my favorite games 'dying' because the owners/administrators lose interest. So, with the help of two other adult ladies (the three of us range in age from 27 to 37) I have started my own game. It has the advantage of being owned and run by someone who's been 'around the block' a while, and will not 'peter out' just as things get interesting. Please come and check it out!