Haunted
By Be Boring
Chapter 14: Black to the Core
"Mum? Where are you?" Necia called out helplessly, strapped to Dumbledore's chair at the teacher's table in the Great Hall, trying to make her voice be heard over the jeers of the students at their respective tables."The fool actually thinks she's coming!" Draco Malfoy cried out in sheer delight, laughing so hard that tears were streaming down his pale cheeks. Crabbe and Goyle were guffawing stupidly, while Harry and Ron cruelly began imitating Necia's desperate cries.
"Mum, where are you? Mum? I need you, Mum!" they both squealed in high-pitched voices.
Suddenly, someone tapped her shoulder and she looked up to see Dumbledore standing next to her with his arms crossed severely over his chest. "What are you doing in my seat?" he asked coldly, the characteristic twinkle in his eye gone. "Get up."
"I can't," she tried to explain, attempting to lift her arms, but barely managing to move them half an inch. Dumbledore didn't look convinced. As he continued to endlessly repeat his order for her to get out of his chair, Necia heard something over the tumult. It sounded so far away, but she could have sworn it was her mother's voice.
"Mum!" she shrieked wildly, now throwing her weight around frantically in the chair as she struggled to escape.
"Someone please help me," came a very soft, pained whimper that sounded so much like her mother's voice that Necia momentarily paused, trying to hear it better. "Please, please help me." Her voice sounded so weak that Necia finally managed to pull her arms free from her bonds with a burst of strength, they whipped upward with her momentum, then…
Necia's wrist exploded with pain as she snapped awake with a jerk. She had thrown up her arm in her sleep and hit her headboard by mistake. Darkness was pressing in around her on all sides, it was clearly the middle of the night, but as she lay there holding her throbbing wrist delicately, she couldn't quite remember going to sleep. She sat up slowly, now stretching her wrist out to make sure she could still move it. It didn't seem to be any worse for the wear, it was just sore. Suddenly, she turned her head to the side to stare unseeingly around the room. Someone was breathing deeply, apparently sound asleep very close by, and it didn't sound like the other girls in her year. Besides, the breathing was practically right next to her.
Reaching out slowly in the dark, her hand bumped right into something very solid, followed by a low grunt, a snore, then the breathing resumed its original pattern. Necia's hand flew back to her mouth to hold back the scream that threatened to burst out. There was a man sleeping right next to her. Terrified of waking him up, she slid very carefully from the bed and found her feet standing on a carpet that felt very different from the worn rug that lay next to her bed. That wasn't what was bothering her now, though.
She hadn't noticed it before because her wrist had distracted her, but now she became horribly aware as the chilly air reached her that she wasn't wearing anything and a burning ache was aggravating her entire body, particularly between her legs. Staring at where she knew the man to be laying, she couldn't move for horror at the thought of what must have happened, while her mind fought to remember what had happened last night. A brief flash of running out of her own dormitory came back to her, she vaguely remembered the empty passageway that she had escaped to, and Ginny's face appeared in her mind, but that was all she could recall. Why couldn't she remember what had happened?
As her eyes slowly adjusted to the barely existent light, which she now realized was filtering in through one tiny window on the far side of the room, she began to make out the shape of the man as he slept on, completely unaware of the situation. She dropped to her knees and fumbled around for her robes, grabbing one set that were far too long when she held them up, tossing them aside with the sick thought that they were obviously his, and finally finding her own.
She pulled her wand out of her pocket after she had fastened them back on and tiptoed around the bed so that she was facing him. Was this really a good idea? What if she woke him up? It was a chance she was going to have to take. "Lumos," she whispered, half-shielding the end of her wand with her hand so that not all of the light shone on his face. For a moment the distorted shadows thrown by her fingers obscured his face, but then his dark hair and prominent nose became all too clear. Necia leapt back in panic, her wand falling from her hand and the light quickly extinguishing, leaving her once again in deep blackness. Her scream caught about halfway up her throat, leaving her with strange, pained choking sounds that weren't loud enough for Snape to hear.
It seemed as though some invisible force were driving her now, for later she certainly didn't remember picking her wand back up and finding her way out of the room; she didn't even remember half running up to Gryffindor Tower in the eerily deserted castle and blurting out the password to a half-asleep Fat Lady, who didn't even look at her as she swung forward to let her in. Rather than going up to her dormitory, Necia headed through the first door she came to on the stairs, which was the entrance to the girls' bathroom and showers. The only thing she really remembered about this the next day was her slight shock at realizing for the second time that her hair was a shimmering blonde, nearly the same shade as her mother's.
Necia was never sure of how long she spent in the shower, scrubbing her skin to a painful, blistering, red raw imitation of what it should have looked like. She still couldn't remember anything, but she found traces of him everywhere. Dark bruises dotted her flesh everywhere between her chin and her knees, causing a strong wave of nausea that nearly sent her running for the toilets, not wanting think of the bruises' proper name. She didn't want to think about any of it, but it was difficult not to when she felt the constant soreness in her body as she scrubbed wildly at her skin as if she could wash away what had happened, when she could still smell the same husky scent she had noticed at the Yule Ball all over the robes she had worn to his room.
When she shakily ascended the stairs to her dormitory, her hair back to its original deep brown, she felt only a slight relief that the other girls were fast asleep. She simply couldn't deal with anyone right now. 'This is all just some horrible nightmare. When I wake up again, everything will be all right,' she told herself firmly, not even bothering to change as she collapsed onto her bed, drifting off to sleep almost instantly. It almost seemed to funny to her now. She couldn't have done anything with Snape. Of course not, this was all just a very vivid dream. Tomorrow everything would be back to normal.
When Severus woke up the next morning, it was hard to remember why he felt so content. He hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time. He knew he had taken the Confusion Draught last night, but it didn't usually help him out this much. He sat up and stretched pleasantly, abruptly noticing out of the corner of his eye that he had carelessly discarded his robes on the floor beside his bed. He frowned slightly, now realizing that he wasn't wearing anything at all, and a sudden flash of a feminine body pressed firmly to his struck him out of nowhere. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recapture the feeling, and Cassandra's face very clearly flashed through his mind.
Now it was coming back to him. Although it took him a very long time concentrating on everything that had happened since he had returned to his office after dinner last night, he gradually began to recall everything that had happened. His hallucination of Cassandra had been unbelievably realistic, and even now he couldn't quite convince himself that it hadn't really happened. It had been a very in-depth fantasy, with many more details than his mind usually created on its own. 'Cassandra's dead,' he told himself harshly. 'Nothing could have happened because she couldn't have been here.'
But as he went about his normal morning routine, his mind was constantly pulled back to the previous night. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered whether or not it was possible that he really had slept with someone, just not Cassandra. With the potion, he could have confused any blonde with her. But what about their conversation? That seemed just as vivid as the sex in his memory, and some strange blonde wouldn't have been able to have that kind of conversation with him. He could have sworn he was actually talking to her.
As he crossed the room to grab his shoes, he noticed something lying on the floor. It was clearly an empty vial like what he kept small samples of potions in. There was just enough for one dosage for a person in each one. He couldn't remember taking out anything other than his Confusion Draught, which was in a larger bottle than this, so where had it come from? When he looked very closely he could see one remaining drop of slightly green liquid clinging to the side. It looked much more watery than most potions, the fact that one could see through it was something that was very rare with potions. In fact, it looked more like slightly colored water than anything else.
There were very few potions that he had learned about that resembled what he was holding in his hand, but he couldn't imagine why any of them would be in his bedroom. He glanced up at the clock on the wall. He had gotten up very late indeed. There was no time to examine the potion, he needed to get some breakfast before the Quidditch match. He was surprisingly hungry this morning.
When Necia awoke for the second time, the soreness had only increased. She lay on her back for a long time, listening to the constant movement far below her in the common room as everyone chatted excitedly about Gryffindor's prospects for winning the match. She felt suddenly sick as everything came rushing back to her. It hadn't been a dream, she had really woken up in Snape's bed, and judging by the pain in her body, they hadn't just been sleeping. Why had she been there? What could have possessed her to do anything with him? Numb shock seemed to roll over her. It didn't feel real, partly because she didn't remember anything, and also because she just couldn't see what would have led to it happening.
"What happened to you last night?" came a curious voice from the door. Necia lifted her head to see Ginny standing in the doorway. Her stomach had jumped into a panicked knot at the question, but after a moment she quickly realized that Ginny couldn't possibly know where she had spent the night.
"What do you mean?" she asked just as curiously. If Ginny didn't know about Snape, then why was she asking about last night?
"That potion," Ginny elaborated, now studying her with concern. "You acted so weird after you drank it, then you just ran off." Her eyes flicked to Necia's hair. "I see you're back to being a brunette again."
Once again Necia vaguely remembered the blonde hair she'd received from the candy. "Yeah, I took a shower and it all came out." Thinking quickly, she added, "I went to the hospital wing last night. The potion made me sick, but Madam Pomfrey got it sorted out pretty quickly. It wasn't anything serious." Now she remembered the potion, but everything after drinking it was a blank.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Ginny asked, tilting her head slightly to the side as she continued to watch her friend. "You're really pale."
Necia tried to shrug nonchalantly. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm probably just still feeling a little off because of that stupid potion."
"Well, you'd better come down and get something to eat, we'll all be heading out to the Quidditch pitch in a little while. You're coming, aren't you?"
The Quidditch match was the farthest thing from her mind at the moment. Then out of nowhere a horrible thought struck her. There was a possibility she might see Snape either in the Great Hall or out in the stands, and right now that was the last thing she wanted. "I wasn't really planning to…" she began slowly, forcing Ginny's face to fall. "I'll think about it," she conceded finally, wondering if she could just sneak out to the stadium without eating and go down to the kitchens later to grab some food. She had gone down with Harry and the others to get some after their match against Slytherin earlier in the year. She figured she'd be able to find her way again.
Twenty minutes later she was hurrying down to the stadium, avoiding the stares from all around that by now were common. She didn't know where she was going to sit, as Ginny would be playing the game and wouldn't be able to keep her company, and she couldn't very well sit with Hermione. Somehow everyone's glares were affecting her more than usual today, which she realized as she was climbing into the Gryffindor portion of the stands. Perhaps it was because now she really had done something to deserve it. 'What would happen if anyone found out about last night?' she thought numbly, not even wanting to think about it.
She opted for the top row, which was empty, and watched as the other students filled up the rows in front of her. It took her a long time to realize that someone was moving along the row toward her, and she only recognized him once he had sat down directly on her right. Professor Lupin smiled slightly at her surprise as he folded his hands pleasantly and looked around at the rest of the stadium with mild interest. "The rest of the stadium was full, and then I saw you looking so lonely over here and thought I'd join you."
Necia didn't know whether to be relieved or not. On the one hand, now she wasn't alone, but she also didn't feel very much like having company right now. Her mind was too full of things that she wished she never had to think about. "So it doesn't bother you that I'm—" She hadn't spoken to him before now about what everyone now hated her for.
"Why would that bother me? Your last name doesn't have nearly as much to do with the way you turn out as everyone else thinks. I've never had a problem with you before, and I'm not about to start now. Besides, I don't really blame you for keeping it quiet. It's not too different from my situation, is it? I don't really like to advertise the fact that I'm a werewolf."
Suddenly, Necia felt a burst of gratitude toward Lupin, wishing that it wouldn't be inappropriate to hug him. 'Hugging is the least of your worries,' a little voice sneered in her head. She tried to ignore it and just enjoy the fact that at least someone didn't despise her, but then her eyes wandered to the far side of the stadium, landing on Snape as he found himself an empty place to sit. Her stomach turned over as she watched him, a new thought occurring to her. How could she be sure that she hadn't been completely addled by that potion last night and Snape had raped her? But she couldn't see him leaving her in the bed all night if that was how it had happened. Snape wasn't an idiot, no matter what else he was.
"Hey, Remus, I didn' know yeh'd be here," came a cheerful voice from Necia's left side. She looked up to see Hagrid shuffling down the row, bumping the people in the row in front as he approached. He sat down and stared out at the stadium similarly to Lupin, as though he thought absolutely nothing of sitting next to the one person that he knew perfectly well Harry and his friends were the most furious with.
"How come you're not sitting with Hermione?" she asked timidly after a moment.
He shrugged and looked down at her, his eyes crinkling in a kind smile. "I'm sittin' exactly where I wanna sit, an' if she wants ta join me, she'll hafta come up here."
Now Necia very much wanted to hug him, but at that moment the players walked out onto the field and from then on she became determinedly focused on what was going on in the air, occasionally commenting on the game with Lupin and Hagrid. It felt like she had been assigned the lead role in a play. She reacted automatically to everything that happened in the same manner she would normally respond to things, but it felt like she wasn't really there. Someone else had stepped forward to take her place, as though someone was standing in for her while she was incapable of thinking clearly. She and Hagrid always cheered wildly whenever Ginny scored, but Lupin was a more reserved viewer. The most he ever did was applaud politely, but Necia could tell by his face that he was enjoying himself.
When Necia turned once to make sure that Lupin hadn't fallen asleep beside her, for he had been silent for quite some time, his alert, aging face seemed to change fleetingly into a much smoother, younger version, his hair much less gray and slightly longer. She gasped in surprise, and suddenly he was back to himself and looking at her very curiously. "Are you all right?" he asked gently as her eyes darted all over his face, making sure that everything was as it usually was.
"Erm, yeah, sorry, I just thought I saw something," she mumbled in embarrassment, for he was looking at her very strangely indeed. She turned back to the game, the image of a much younger Remus Lupin still hovering before her eyes. In fact, during that odd second he had looked her age, if not slightly younger. Her eyes shot up to Harry, but he wasn't Harry anymore, it was someone else with unkempt black hair flying over the stands, performing some spectacular twists and turns in midair. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, and there was Harry once more, not doing anything more than flying high over the game, looking for the Snitch.
"Yeh know, Necia, yer not lookin' so good," Hagrid noted as he looked down at her again.
"Are you sure you're feeling all right?" Lupin asked, glancing at her and taking in how pale she had just become.
"I'm just feeling a little under the weather," she replied uncomfortably, looking at Harry again to make sure it was really him. She didn't understand what was going on. First Lupin had looked like a teenager again, and then she thought Harry was someone else who just looked like him. 'No, it wasn't just someone who looked like him. I saw his dad,' she realized in shock. She had seen pictures of Harry's father before, and that had undoubtedly been him. Her eyes trained themselves on her feet, lest anyone else magically transform before them. What was happening to her?
Necia didn't even notice when Harry finally caught the Snitch, although she managed to stand up and cheer with everyone else before she looked suspicious. 'Maybe I should go see Madam Pomfrey, she might be able to give me something.' She earnestly thanked Lupin and Hagrid for sitting with her before she headed across the grounds for the castle, with every intention of going straight to the hospital wing. Something distracted her, however.
A small creature was shuffling up the steps toward the castle. Judging by the dirt its bare feet were tracking on the stone steps, it had just come down the road from Hogsmeade. As she drew closer, she realized it was an old house-elf. A dirty cloth had been tied in a loincloth fashion around its waist. She looked around for the witch or wizard it belonged to, but the elf was very much alone. Other people behind her were slowing down as they watched it, curious babble breaking out everywhere as everyone strained to get a better look at it. Suddenly, Hermione broke away from the group, walking purposefully right up to the elf to get a better look at it.
"Kreacher?" she asked after one quick look at its face.
The elf paused and turned, only noticing the crowd behind it for the first time, then it spoke in a hoarse voice that was distinctly male, "Mudbloods and filth everywhere. Mistress wouldn't like this, oh no she wouldn't. They are watching Kreacher, but he must keep going. He has work to do."
"What kind of work?" Hermione asked innocently.
Kreacher stared reproachfully up at her, as though thoroughly insulted that she was speaking to him. "Kreacher is looking for his Mistress."
"Kreacher," Hermione said gently, "your Mistress is dead. Sirius is gone too, so you're free to go. There's no one left to serve."
By now Harry, Ron, and Ginny had caught up with everyone and looked completely shocked to see Kreacher on the front steps of Hogwarts. Necia couldn't ever remember them mentioning him, but she had only been with them half the year. She couldn't expect to hear everything in that time. From Hermione mentioning Sirius Black, however, she could assume that the elf had belonged to him.
In response to Hermione's statement, Kreacher shook his head fiercely. "No, I'm here to meet my Mistress."
Now Harry spoke up, stepping forward so that he was only a few feet to Necia's left. "What Mistress, and why would she be at Hogwarts?"
Kreacher turned to answer him, but he paused, his eyes on Necia. Suddenly, he shuffled much faster than she would have supposed him capable of back down the steps and right up to her, bowing down until his ears flopped forward and hid his eyes. "Kreacher is here to serve," he said rather pompously.
Necia stared down at the elf in shock. Now she became very aware that everyone was staring at them without restraint, including the teachers, who had moved to the front of the group to see what was going on. Snape's eyes met hers as she looked over at them and she quickly turned away. More than anything she just wanted to run back up to her dormitory and hide under her covers to avoid confronting all these people, Snape most of all, but Kreacher was still prostrating himself in front of her.
"I think you've got me confused with someone else," she finally choked out, returning her eyes to the elf.
He stood upright, looking rather insulted again. "House-elves know who they must serve, and Kreacher has been sent to serve you."
Necia looked up at Harry, hoping he could see how completely confused she was. She couldn't deal with the elf, but he had known him, so hopefully he could talk some sense into him. He avoided her eyes, but still turned to the elf. "Kreacher, Sirius was the last Black. Hermione is right, you don't have anyone left to serve."
Out of nowhere, a cold, drawling voice called out, "You're obviously not very familiar with how house-elf magic works, Potter." To Necia's surprise and creeping trepidation, Draco pulled himself out of the crowd and strode forward to stand directly next to Necia, separating her from Harry. "House-elves are magically drawn to members of the family they serve. If this thing says he's here to serve Necia, then he knows what he's doing."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Then why doesn't he serve you? Your mother and Sirius were cousins, you're part of the family. Why is he here for Necia?"
Draco smirked and turned to look significantly at Necia, his cold, gray eyes cutting straight through her. "Because house-elves only serve the closest relative."
Now Necia had absolutely no idea what was going on. "But I'm not related to the Blacks. If I am, it would be very distant, and more than likely through marriage."
His smirk was only growing more defined. "No, the fact that it's not through marriage is the reason why your mother couldn't be part of the family anymore."
"I have no idea what you're getting at," she snapped coldly, forgetting about the watching crowd.
"Don't you? I was never under the impression that you were as dimwitted as your father, but I supposed you must have inherited something from him. That's where you got your hair, as I'm sure you figured out without seeing him."
"You're not making any sense!" she cried in frustration. "If you have something to tell me, just spit it out already!"
His expression turned almost soft as he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, his lips just barely brushing the lobe, "Think about it. Your mother's pregnancy with you was disturbing enough to get her kicked out of the family. Your hair is dark, which is very strange for a Malfoy. This house-elf belonged to the Blacks, and now he's coming here to serve you." He stepped back, folding his arms over his chest. "You put the rest together." He said the last part loud enough for everyone else to hear.
Her eyes widened as she stared at him. He had laid it out pretty clearly, but she didn't want to put the pieces together. If she followed everything he said, that would mean that Kreacher was here because there was one more Black in the family. He was here because she was Sirius Black's daughter.
Quickly sidestepping Kreacher, who was still very much in her way, she disappeared inside the castle, breaking into a run as soon as she was out of everyone's sight. Without noticing where her feet were carrying her, she ran until she spotted the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy getting beaten viciously by a group of trolls. She didn't even need to walk past the wall, the door had already appeared across from the tapestry. She threw herself inside, tearing through the perfect copy of her house until she had reached her mother's room. It was all too much, it was an information overload. She had slept with Snape, her mother was gone, everyone knew she was a Malfoy, and now her father was apparently Sirius Black, who had died two years ago. She had never felt more alone.
As she curled up on her mother's bed, she rubbed her ear where Draco's lips had touched it. That hadn't been necessary, he didn't need to be that close to her. As she rubbed the sensation away, a very quick flash of other lips on her ear, along with the vivid memory of being thrust into darted through her mind. A tear slipped down her cheek as Snape's face, barely visible through the darkness but obviously shining with lust appeared before her eyes, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. 'Nothing could be worse than this,' she thought in absolute, self-pitying misery. She felt sick with disgust as once again, as though she were reliving it, she felt his hands on her, his mouth moving down her body, his eager, powerful thrusts as he emptied himself inside her. Even worse, she remembered moaning against his lips, allowing him to do whatever he pleased, which he had done without any form of restraint. She very clearly remembered answering his thrusts, digging her fingers eagerly into his back as pleasure rolled over her. The memories were coming quickly and very vividly, as though she were reliving them right at that moment. After all, it was the first time she had seen them.
She screwed her face up against the pillow, unable to deal with what she had done. None of it made any sense. What had happened to her last night?
Severus couldn't have been more relieved to reach the solitude of his office. That had been a very interesting exchange outside, giving almost solid proof that he had been right, Necia was Sirius's daughter. But that wasn't what was bothering him right now.
When Necia had looked at him, he had seen completely unhidden panic in her eyes, and it hadn't been because of the house-elf. That look had only appeared when she saw him. He didn't want to consider it, but now he pulled out the vial he had found earlier. He had only been able to think of a few potions that this resembled, and now he had a strong sense he knew what it was, although he didn't know how she had gotten her hands on it.
The Channeling Solution was something that was very rarely used because it was notoriously difficult to make, and there wasn't often much use to it. If made correctly, it created a replica of someone's mind, with all their personality traits and memories. The host for the replica would simply slide to the background and lose control, and when the potion finally wore off hours later, they wouldn't remember a thing. The problem was that if made incorrectly, it could very well leave the host stuck as the replica, or the two minds could clash, blending the memories and personalities of both, which tended to lead to complete insanity because the two minds were incapable of working together.
Severus had never heard of the Channeling Solution being used to replicate a dead mind, but it was clearly possible. Looking at the vial again, he realized that this must have been what Necia had picked up when they were leaving Lucius's hideout. Of course, the Channeling Solution couldn't be found in most books because it was next to useless, why copy someone's mind for just a few hours? You wouldn't have control over that mind, and you wouldn't remember what it contained when you recovered. Without knowing what it was supposed to do, Necia had taken it herself, when the right thing to do would have been to give it to a friend so that she could talk to her mother herself.
Now everything came crashing down in stark reality. He had really spoken to Cassandra last night, she really loved him, but he had had sex with Necia. It had been Cassandra's spirit, but Necia's body, and in the end, he knew that it was the body that mattered. That was why Necia had looked so panicked by the sight of him. Although if it were properly made, she shouldn't remember last night, that still left the fact that she must have woken up beside him sometime during the night. He sat down wearily behind his desk, rubbing his eyes as a wave of exhaustion rolled over him. He had taken in a lot of information in a few short hours, more than he usually absorbed in a full day, and absolutely none of it was good. Something would have to be done about this. The only problem was that he had no idea what to do.
