note: I'm really enjoying writing this fic, which is why I'm continuing it. looks like Severus Snape's fun and happy life. I know my writing can be a little ...heady at times, but please bear with me. it's my first fic.
disclaimer: dear JKR's lawyers. I'm not even 18; do you really want to sue me?
In My Heart
chapter two
The first night was the worst. I can't remember what happened, but the images plague my mind at night. A vision of hell: the expansive lake shimmering with the green of the Dark Mark, the fire reflecting in Harry Potter's eyes, the Forbidden Forest swallowing us whole. I saw Draco standing motionless in the forest. I simply wanted to scream at him, but the anguish of the Unbreakable Vow still churned within me.
"Foolish boy, hold on to my arm." The familiar feeling of Apparition comforted me; I wished I could Apparate to the edge of the universe, an endless journey. But the ground came crashing upwards far too soon. I stumbled to all fours, not wanting to acknowledge my surroundings.
A woman shrieked nearby. I looked up to discern several figures running towards us in the moonlight. They took hardly a few moments to cross the expansive lawn of the Malfoy Manor. As they stood together, I recognized that these three women must be related. In this surreal moment, I pondered the Death Eater clan - truly a caring and family-oriented bunch.
"Draco, thank God you're alright," Narcissa wept, as she clutched Draco in her arms. Draco mumbled something in response, trying to push her away from him.
"Well?" Bellatrix's sharp voice triggered the pounding in my head but also caught my attention. "Was it ..a success?" she asked tentatively. A wave of nausea accompanied the headache, although I didn't know whether it was because of what I had just done or because she was around, emanating the stench of cold-blooded cruelty.
"Obviously," drawled the youngest of the three. I recognized her as a student from around five years ago, Vega. "If it hadn't had worked, neither of them would be here." I admired the technical precision of her mind, carefully gathering her observations and formulating a conclusion void of emotional attachment. Cold precision marks everything about her, down to her smile. I remember her as a student, meticulous and charming, yet not overly passionate. Someone like her.. now that's where my theory on Death Eaters goes awry.
Regardless of Vega's remark, the three women still stared at Draco and me expectantly, waiting for juicy details. The words weighed down my very soul: "Dumbledore's dead."
"And who did it?" Narcissa asked, avoiding eye contact with me.
Draco had his face in his palms, so I figured the silence would speak for itself.
"Always meddling, aren't you, you bastard," Bellatrix snarled, menacingly waving her finger near my nose. "I told Draco he could do it himself, but you certainly think you're the bloody hero here. Why yes, you've got every damn right to do it yourself."
"That certainly isn't the case," I replied, as calmly as possible. My voice cracked in spite of myself. "If - "
"Professor, mother," Vega interrupted, nodding at us both, "I hardly think we can afford time for such petty arguments." But the blood pounding in my ears drowned out whatever bullshit she had continued with. She was right, this was a petty argument in the face of such calamity. Their nonchalant reaction to this tumultuous event made me sick. They hardly understood the significance for either side. They will not show emotion until their master tells them to. They say they have power and influence, but they are merely sheep in lion's clothing, pawns of their master.
I could not believe it. Even Narcissa, who had shown vestiges of a heart, seemed not to notice. Dumbledore had continually shown her the utmost respect, while she angrily defied him within his own halls. Dumbledore had trusted her, allowed her son to attend his school. Dumbledore trusted everyone, myself included; it was simply his nature.
In the end, it was I who uttered the curse, I who betrayed him most cruelly. Who am I to hypothesize about love?