Chapter Eleven: New Year's Eve
"Are you sure he didn't say anything?" Lili fell back on her bed, silk dress robes rustling angrily.
Artibius clicked in a mournful tone, meeting her gaze with great reluctance.
She felt her body grow heavy, sinking into the smooth sheets. Artibius had been gone for three days, and now he returned, empty-handed—well empty-clawed.
The large bat crawled onto her chest and nuzzled against her chin. He clicked consolingly several more times before settling down, exhausted, in the curve between her shoulder and neck.
"How could he do that, Artibius? Just say nothing!" From beneath the floor she began to here the muffled crescendo of voices.
She had poured her heart into that letter, and he had done nothing, sent no words of comfort. And what could she do now? Sit around until Lucius Malfoy decided what to do with her? Until she had no choice but to become a Death Eater? Shoving her hand under her pillow she found Snape's tattered copy of Notes and clutched it hard. "And now I have to go to their damn New Year's Eve party and look them in the eyes and pretend I'm not scared out of my bloody mind!" She flung the book across the room and it hit the standing mirror, knocking it over backwards.
"Is everything okay in here?" The door behind her creaked open, Draco's slender form blotting the light from the corridor beyond.
Lili had already bolted upright and was pushing the book out of sight with her foot. "Yes, but I'm afraid I've accidentally knocked over the mirror."
Draco took his time crossing the room, eyeing Artibius for a moment before looking down at the shards of glass littering the floor. They twinkled in the firelight like diamonds. "Don't worry about it. I'll send a houself up." He laid a cool-fingered hand on her bare elbow. "Why don't we go on downstairs. Most of the guests have arrived, and Father wants us to be announced soon."
Lili was so aware of his touch that the coolness ossified her veins. He was looking at her as warmly as a Malfoy could through eyes made of frozen glass. But there was something so like his father in him, so lopsided and cold, that she found it difficult not to pull away. "Um, yes, that's fine. I just need to slip on some shoes."
She scurried across to the wardrobe and pulled out a pair of pale green slippers, Draco watching her intently. The shoes had been, like the dress, specially made for this occasion and matched everything else with a calculated elegance. Sure Draco could not see her face, she dabbed at her eyes, being certain no trace of tears remained.
When she did turn to meet him, it was with the strongest smile she could muster. "I'm ready then."
They said no other word as they made their way through the long corridor, down the stairs and towards the ballroom. Draco seemed to be standing taller than normal, and his expression had changed, become less like a boy's. His lips were drawn tight and his eyes fixed, unwavering, to the front. Something in it made Lili's palms sweat.
They stood outside the tall ballroom doors for several moments, waiting their turn to be announced. There were several other people behind them, all dressed with impeccable taste, noses held firmly in the air. Even as she examined them, they refused to let their eyes flit down to her for even a moment. She had no doubt, however, they would look her over later, when they could do so unnoticed. She had the feeling that in this place everyone was watching everyone, missing nothing.
The ballroom doors opened, and the voices that had been muted burst forth like racing horses. Music wafted out, and the sound of hundreds of feet dancing, of laughter and idle conversation echoed down the corridor. The light from within was brilliant, and Lili felt it sift over her skin with a wave of warmth. The jewels around her neck shivered like flames.
"Master Draco Malfoy and Miss Elizabeth Lee."
It was a deep, drawling voice, and, by the time it finished her name, she and Draco had glided into the room and were standing amidst a staggeringly large crowd. Everyone grew still, hundreds of eyes raking over her, whispers sprouting like weeds. She pushed her head higher and did her best to ignore every single one.
Draco leaned in towards her. "Don't worry about all that. It's just that this is the first year I haven't invited Pansy to be introduced with me, that's all. It's like Slytherin, you know. Everyone loves something that could be the start of a good rumor."
Even as Draco spoke Pansy's name, Lili spied her and her mother, Patricia, approaching them from across the ballroom. Both mother and daughter were trussed up in thin pink lace and gauze.
"Oh bugger," Draco groaned.
"Draco!" Misses Parkinson said loudly, pulling a reluctant Pansy behind her. "Hello, hello. Don't you look nice." Her eyes fell on Lili, who was doing her best not to laugh at how unhappy Pansy looked being dragged along. "Oh, and, erm, Lili, wasn't it? It's nice to see you again, as well. Looking lovely, though the color doesn't do much for skin as pale as yours, I'd say." She sniffed. "Maybe my Pansy could pull it off, but she's also got a healthier tone." Misses Parkinson's face was about to crack in half from smiling, Lili thought. She didn't bother to return the grin, taking a deep breath and meeting their gazes wearily, first Pansy's then her mother's.
"Yes, well, Pansy has a much –erm—healthier figure as well, doesn't she? Don't think it would look too good in Lili's dress." Draco spat, squeezing at Lili's arm and turning away from the two pink-drenched women flippantly. "Come on, Lili, let's go have a dance, shall we?"
Though her stomach still jostled with a terrible mixture of anger and anxiety, Lili couldn't help but grin.
"Don't mind those Parkinson twits, either," he said, stopping in the middle of the ballroom floor and taking Lili's waist in one hand and her fingers in the other. "Pansy's mum is just peeved because she always figured Pansy would end up with me, and she'd get the run of Malfoy Manor. The lot of them are gold-diggers, if you catch my meaning. That Daniel ought to watch himself or he'll get in the same bind I was in, poor fellow."
Lili wanted to ask him more about Pansy, but she decided against it, recalling her earlier decision not to get too much more involved with Draco here on the Manor. She straightened, remembering herself and focusing all her attention on dancing.
Draco twirled her about for quite some time, the gold and white and brilliant sheen of the ballroom rushing past her like a dream. She was continually met with faces, gazing at her side-long, curious and cold. She felt the same discomfort she had at the Yule Ball, but this time, behind it, lurked a deep and abiding fear. Each eye that swept past her might have been one of them. Each tall figure that brushed the skirt of her dress might have, once, been a cold-blooded murderer. And might be again—soon.
And what would become of her, sunk so deep in this world, in the morass of Malfoy Manor?
With every thought, she blinked and tried to wash her mind, concentrating on stolen views of her form in the tall mirrors that lined the walls. Pale green silk danced around her like a fine shroud.
A loud and clear bell rang, shaking the mirrored walls and quieting the hall almost instantly. Draco stopped dancing, keeping his hands on her loosely while she finished a spin.
"Dinner is soon to be served! Please, my honored guests, take your seats next door in the dining hall, and we will continue our celebrations with a feast!"
Though she could not see the source of the invitation, Lili recognized the icy smoothness of it easily enough. Lucius Malfoy was across the ballroom, nodding to everyone who passed on their way to the dining hall. He met Lili and Draco with a half-smile. She returned it, biting at her tongue fiercely.
The ballroom began to live once again, some people continuing to dance, but most making their way towards the doors. Draco stood still for a moment, as if thinking, before he took his hands from her waist.
"Yes, well, shouldn't we go find our seats next door?" Lili asked, watching Draco carefully. He seemed intent on some thought. "Is something wrong?"
He turned slowly and met her eyes. "No, no. I just, well, we'll be sitting near Father and his close friends. It always makes me a bit nervous."
You and me both, she thought, taking Draco's arm once more.
"I just don't want to make a fool of myself. Every year Father yells at me afterwards for saying something I shouldn't." Draco sighed. "But maybe this year, if I just stick to talking with you, I'll keep myself out of trouble." He gave her a wan grin.
They turned towards the entryway, arm in arm. The doors swung open to allow the guests out, but, instead, a gaunt, dark figure slid out from the black corridor beyond. He stood before them, looking down at Lili through cool and piercing eyes.
Her mouth dropped open, and she was barely able to suppress a gasp.
A booming voice echoed through the ballroom.
"Mister Severus Snape."
Snape hardly acknowledged her presence, brushing past her into the ballroom. Lili's mouth had dropped open, and her eyes were following the Potion Master's form intently. Draco looked at her, then at Snape who was making his way towards the host and hostess.
Lili couldn't tear her gaze away from his dark form slicing through a sea of smiles and finery. Seeing him, almost everyone parted, affording him little more than a disinterested glance.
"Shall we go then?" Draco leaned forward, trying to regain Lili's eyes.
"Oh—oh yes. I'm sorry," she sputtered, turning away, and smoothing at her dress. "I guess I'm just surprised to see Professor Snape here. I didn't realize he was the partying type."
Draco began sweeping her from the room and, in the dark corridor, his features grew obscured in torchlight. "Yes, well, he's really not. I don't really remember him coming to a Manor party in some years. Though he's always invited. Dad and he have been acquaintances since their Hogwarts years."
Something sounded in her mind to hear this, and she wondered how close of friends they had been, and why. And, moreover, if Lucius had indeed been a Death Eater, then…
Not 'had been', she reminded herself, with a quaking breath. Is; —is a Death Eater.
She swallowed deeply and pushed the thought away. It would be something to examine later, but here, surrounded by these people, having her mind too far and distracted could be dangerous.
Once in the dining room, they passed along the table, tickled by a few surreptitious eyes and greeted by several painfully obsequious lips. Draco merely nodded, much in the manner of his father, and it was the best Lili could do to keep her gaze fixed straight ahead. Only dots of candlelight blinked past her like fireflies.
They were seated at the head of the main table, the normal spot for her dinners on the Manor. Now, however, these chairs seemed hallowed, and none would dare sit in them save those who had been invited. The head seat, still empty, had been fixed slightly higher than normal, a thin platform propping it above the others at a powerful height.
Lili sighed. The last thing she needed was for Lucius Malfoy to be made more intimidating, even in the smallest way. She took a cloth napkin and laid it across her lap, limiting her gaze to Draco and her plate.
Small salads were served to distract the waiting guests. Slowly, the seats at the head of the table filled, and Lili allowed herself only quick glances stolen between bites. Avery. Macnair. The dark-skinned woman she had spied in the downstairs room almost a week earlier. The rest were unfamiliar faces, though Lili guessed that, had she been able to see the entire downstairs room that night, she would have recognized many more.
In the middle of crunching her salad, there was a small commotion, and several houselves scurried past, bearing a chair that, in their tiny arms, seemed most unwieldy. After moments of tottering back and forth and toppling over on more than one occasion, they laid it to rest directly across from Lili and tottered off without a word.
She finished the bite and stabbed at another, her eyes riveted on the table. All around her the Hall was exploding with noisy chuckles and the tinkling of forks and champagne flutes.
It reminded her of the Great Hall, which, at the moment seemed a marvelous dream. Somewhere altogether perfect, away from all the finery and the champagne and the designer robes with matching jewels. She missed Dia and Mishal—and, by Merlin, even Milicent. At least among them she could handle herself. At least there, she knew she was in control. She wondered briefly if Draco felt the same.
It wasn't until a few moments later that the empty chair across from her pulled out with a moan, and she allowed her gaze to rise.
Snape had taken his seat and was laying a napkin across his lap, careful to avoid her eyes. She looked down again, feeling her face burn. What in the world was she going to do? How would she be able to meet with him in a setting like this?
And moreover she wondered how she would be able to talk to him at all without feeling the same burning blush. It was painfully awkward, remembering all she'd read in Notes and all the fears she'd scrawled out in that letter. And how could she be certain he was even here to see her? He probably thought she was a child: a reckless child who'd stepped into something he'd warned her not to. Why should she expect he'd do anything?
She felt his eyes flit over her and shoved another bite of salad into her mouth.
"Hello, Miss Lee."
The voice seemed to carve through all the other noise assailing her, striking at her ears, all violent velvet. She hurried to chew and swallow, raising her head with the effort of lifting a lead ball.
"Hello, Professor."
His eyes touched hers for only an instant before drifting over to her left, towards Draco.
"Hello, Draco."
Draco allowed Snape only a brief nod and half-smile before continuing on with his salad.
A man to Snape's right then engaged him in conversation, and she felt her muscles loosen, relieved of the pressure of having to speak again.
Though her eyes remained firmly fixed on lettuce leaves, Lili began to feel keenly aware of Snape's presence: his long-fingered hands on the silver fork; his smooth, low voice snaking within the mass of noise; his legs, spindly, beneath the table near hers. She felt his foot brush across hers lightly. Another burning blush.
Chewing hard, she forced herself to blink. Calm down, stupid girl. It wasn't as if anyone else knew why he was here: no one else knew about the letters. Calm down, she chanted to herself, grinding a tomato between her teeth. No one else knew how scared she was, and it would stay that way if she didn't lose her head.
Just as she swallowed, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy entered the hall, gliding along the table and stopping for several brief conversations and a few chuckles. Draco scooted in closer to the table, smoothing the napkin in his lap and straightening the silverware beside his plate. A fluttering erupted in Lili's stomach.
Helping his wife to her seat, Lucius took his own with all the airs of a king. Perched slightly higher than everyone, he looked down on the table, examining its inhabitants with a pursed grin.
As if this was the awaited signal, houselves poured in through every door, laden with silver trays and bowls that soaked the hall in the thick fragrances of fine food. Even before the dishes were laid down, she felt permeated with steam and scent, her tongue tingling in excitement. She picked a little from almost every tray, her plate soon covered with steaming potatoes, fish, pâté, fresh fruits. She found herself so distracted by the delectables that, when Lucius Malfoy's cool voice floated down to her, she was caught off guard.
"So, Lili, are you enjoying the food and the festivities?"
The salmon in her mouth turned sour. She gulped it with some difficulty, lifting her eyes to meet his and those around her.
"Oh, yes. Everything has been so lovely." The silence seemed unbearable, pushing her to say more. "It's been quite some time since I've celebrated a new year like this."
"I daresay the Lees have never had the means to celebrate anything like this." Jeremiah Avery turned up his nose and examined the champagne in his glass with a lopsided smirk.
Lili felt an objection rise in her throat but silenced it with another bite of salmon.
"Nor has an Avery."
Avery glanced over at Snape as if to say something, but seeing the flash in the Potion Master's eyes, settled merely for a deep frown.
It was interesting to note, Lili decided, that Snape was as short with his friends as with his "hopeless" first-year students.
Sensing the tension, Misses Malfoy sat up and, dabbing at the sides of her mouth, changed the subject. "Well, Severus, it has been a while since you joined us at the manner for anything other than a quick drink. What brings you here?"
Lili's stomach dropped, and she feared she might choke on a strawberry. She looked at Snape with wide eyes. Oh please, have a good excuse, please…
"To see you, Narcissa, of course," he snorted, grinning vaguely.
Misses Malfoy chuckled. "Well, I'm flattered, thought not deceived. You only come for business, Severus, we all know that. The last social call you made was—well I think it was when Draco was born."
"Yes, and, as I recall, even then all you did was talk business over the cradle, eh Severus?" Lucius Malfoy was glancing at Snape over a glass of yellow champagne. And though he smiled, his eyes were cold and hard.
Snape wouldn't engage the host, opting instead to keep his eyes on a heap of potatoes. "Well I'm a busy man and have little time for the distraction these parties of yours afford, Lucius." From the edge in his voice, Lili was certain something more lurked under these words than most might have understood. "I put all my effort into my work."
Lucius didn't answer, but the conversation was quickly picked up.
"Yes, Severus, we all respect your devotion to work but, really—all books and potions, no parties, no social life, no woman." It was the dark-skinned woman who spoke now, twirling her thin, silver fork through her fingers and smiling widely at the Potions Master. "You live like a monk, Severus."
There were a few chuckles, taken quietly.
Snape lowered his fork but raised his eyes, meeting the dark-skinned woman's smug gaze with a smirk. "Well, Junia, whenever you wish, you may visit Hogwarts and relieve me of my monkly-status. However, I find many women eager to suggest this, but none so eager to volunteer for the job."
The bluntness of his retort caused Lili fumble with the napkin in her lap.
"Anyway, I am perfectly content with books and potions, and nothing else." His face returned to its usual frown, and he lowered his head once more, taking a bite.
There was a long moment of thick silence, filled only with the clatter of conversations further down the table. Lili concentrated fiercely on her pâté and her glass as it clunked against the wooden table. She wondered vaguely if this was what became of Slytherin friendships.
Lucius Malfoy attempted to snatch back the conversation. "Yes, well, Severus, you seem to have yourself another monk –well, should I say nun-in-training. Lili here has hardly left the library during her entire stay on the Manor."
Lili's stomach heaved, and she pushed her fork hard against her plate to steady herself. Why on earth did he have to direct the conversation towards her?
"Study's good at a young age." It was the gruff and rasping voice of Walden Macnair. Though she had previously wondered if the man could actually speak at all, she was glad now that he could, in order to come to her aid.
"Very true, very true," Mister Malfoy said, directing a sharp and scolding glance at Draco, before turning back to meet Macnair with a nod. "You know, I was talking to a man at the Department of Magical Education just yesterday and—"
The conversation turned away from herself and Snape, and Lili concentrated merely on being grateful for this and pushing food into her mouth. She did her best to block out what was being said, trying to figure out how Snape was going to do anything sitting at the table. Perhaps when we go back to the ballroom, she thought. Or perhaps he'll leave me a letter.
Or perhaps not at all, she thought darkly, pulling hard at her champagne.
The dinner went on for quite some time before Mister Malfoy pushed his chair away from the table and stood, looming over them like a cold, gray ghost.
"Well, I think it's time that we should retire. Gentlemen, Junia, Elleanor—would you care to join me in the drawing room? We'll leave the rest of the night's festivities to my dear wife."
Slowly, most of the adults seated at the head of the table, including Snape, stood and left their chairs, heading for the doors of the hall until only Lucius remained. His cold eyes flickered over Lili and Draco slowly, with a calculating smile.
Lili's heart pounded. No, please. Don't ask me, please don't ask…
"Draco." Malfoy's voice was hard and firm.
A smile the likes of which Lili had never seen from him spread across Draco's face. He stood quickly, like a puppy eager to follow its master.
"You'll come with us."
Draco turned and at looked at Lili with glittering eyes.
"Don't worry, Draco, dear, we'll take care of Lili for you," Misses Malfoy said, standing and seeming so proud of her son that she might burst. "There are plenty of things for us ladies to do while you're off with your father."
Though Lili didn't understand how it was possible, Draco's smile seemed to take over more of his face, and he turned, following closely at his father's feet, disappearing into the dark shadows beyond the hall doors.
The seats around her were empty, except for several of Misses Malfoy's good friends. She had been abandoned, by Draco, by Snape.
Her stomach turned. Snape. He had gone off with them, to do their "business." He had not stopped to help her, hadn't afforded her more than a few words—had she been wrong to trust him? A rush of panic shook her. If he was indeed one of them – but her thoughts stumbled. No, no. It couldn't be. He wouldn't have warned her, he wouldn't have been the same man that she had heard speak those words through the black and white bars of Notes…
Inside, all the night's feast seemed to be boiling, her stomach jolting in violent protest.
"Well, Lili, why don't we get back to the ballroom. It will be midnight soon, and just at midnight, the musicians play a wonderful concert: some Mozart, a few Beethoven pieces and this year I've talked them into a Chopin piece on Mister Malfoy's grand piano." Misses Malfoy's thin and perfectly painted lips were drawn up in a warm smile.
Lili's muscles began to ache from the tension, and her stomach roiled. "Actually, Misses Malfoy, I don't feel well at all." The back of her throat went dry, but she continued with this half-truth, her only hope of getting away before she collapsing from anger, anxiety, disappointment and sorrow. "I think I'm just not used to such rich food and, well, to the champagne." This was partly true. She guessed that a part of her growing nausea could be attributed to the champagne she had gulped in an attempt to relax.
Misses Malfoy's smile faded. "You do look quite pale, dear. Perhaps after so much study and austerity, this sort of thing is a bit of a shock. I'll send Geeti up to your room, and she can look after you."
Lili nodded, feeling such relief she thought she might fall down right there at the table.
"And do feel free to come and join us if you're feeling any better," someone else called. But Lili was already half-way out of the hall and thought it best to pretend she hadn't heard.
After the ballroom and the dining hall, the dark, torch-lit corridors of Malfoy Manor seemed oddly claustrophobic and eerily quiet. As soon as she was away from eyes, she set her feet to the stone floors at as much of a run as she could muster, desperate to get to her room and crawl beneath the silk sheets where no one would watch her or plot and plan anything.
"Slow down, Miss Lee. 'They stumble who run fast.'"
The voice echoed down the empty corridors, and several suits of armor seemed to shiver with a tinny whine at its baritone. She jumped.
For a moment the voice itself seemed disembodied, and she wondered if Malfoy Manor, like Hogwarts, was inhabited by spirits of some sort. A tall, thin figure shifted out of the shadows in the distance.
"Pro-professor." Her heart was still beating heavily, and she took an involuntary step back, still too unsure to smile.
He looked down at her, thin lips frowning. "Let's talk. In this room here." He gestured to an open door to her left, and she nodded, following him and trying very hard to seem cool and unafraid.
Snape flipped on the lights, revealing dusty cabinets packed with yellowing scrolls and folders, papers stacked loosely on every available surface. She examined one; it looked like a receipt.
"An archive for one of the Malfoys' many businesses," Snape informed her, clearing off a chair and offering it to her. She sat, watching the Potions Master closely. He looked much more tired than he had at Hogwarts, and, it seemed, his hands could not keep themselves still. He had given over to restacking the papers and files from her chair.
A heavy silence settled upon them, and, for a moment, it seemed neither would force the other to speak. Lili ran her fingers through the dust on the desk beside her, tracing widening spirals.
Well, it's now or never…
"I read Notes." Her voice fought its way free, seeming, outside her body, far too frail and unsure.
He looked up at her, emotions still locked inside his eyes.
"It was very—" She paused. What could she say? How could she tell him? Hmm…perhaps that she understood the warning; that she appreciated his concern. No, he wouldn't accept anything that accused him of such emotion. But that was what she felt: --a desire to explain that she was beginning to understand, on some level, what he had meant. And now, she wanted his advice, most of all because of what he had shown her. "I liked it."
"I'm sorry, but I don't have much time to talk. I must catch up with Lucius and the others and make a brief appearance. What—"
"Why?" She blurted this out before she thought better of it.
If the question startled him, he gave no indication. "Come, Miss Lee. You're a Slytherin. You know that one must pay some service to the powerful, as distasteful as it might be or as little as one may mean it. Now as I was saying, I've read your letters. I'm sorry I sent no response, but, I thought it might be too risky." He paused and, leaning on the desk, looked at her over his hooked nose. "Unfortunately, I think you, too, must learn a bit more caution. Don't send me any more letters, even through Artibius."
Lili swallowed. She wanted to ask him more about his association with Malfoy, but he had stopped the questions in their tracks. She nodded.
There was more quiet, and Lili examined Snape's face closely. His eyes were fixed on his own hands still restlessly straightening papers. The ashen skin of his face seemed stretched thin, and he himself appeared even thinner than normal, cheekbones jutting severely from his face. His lips were pressed, and she could see that, in his mind, he was forming his words, his sentences carefully.
"Professor—I'm—I'm scared."
The frankness startled not only herself but Snape, and all his planning and careful words seemed to crumble under the tremulous whisper.
Instantly, Lili regretted saying it and forced herself to sit up straighter and lean forward as if to prove stronger than her voice had hinted. "It's just that, well I'm almost sure Mister Malfoy thinks that I—that I want to—" She shook her head, trying to straighten out the words. "He thinks I want to be like him. And I'm almost certain he wants me to join—" Her voice crashed once more. "You-Know-Who."
"If you're to get anywhere around the likes of Malfoy," he said, taking a deep breath, "you better stop with that nonsense. A thing should be called what it is. It's Voldemort and nothing more or less." Snape's voice was stern, and, for a moment, Lili felt as if she was back in Potions class hearing him lecture Ron Weasley on the proper amount of dried fairywing for a sleeping potion.
She nodded. "Voldemort." Her tongue twisted in disgust.
He took another deep breath and leaned more heavily on the desk. "I asked Lucius about you somewhat subtly before dinner, but he would give me no straight answer. I think he has not yet decided what to make of you or your future. That should give you some comfort."
In truth it did, though the idea that Lucius Malfoy was thinking about her or her future in any way made the comfort somewhat less than she was hoping.
"However…" Snape's eyes clouded. "I fear everything you mentioned in your letter is quite true. All the signals you have given will be read by Malfoy and others as, well, as signs that this is what you want. He would not have approached you if he had not already discussed it with others in the Fold. And because of your-- talents, it is likely they will ask you soon…"
Suddenly, her throat tightened, and breathing became difficult. Because of your talents, you stupid girl. She could find no words, no thoughts in her mind: only a deep and rising sorrow. It had wrapped around her heart and was now squeezing her throat. You've done this to yourself, ruined your life…because of your talents, you stupid, stupid girl. She began to sob.
"Miss—Lili, please." Snape shifted back and forth, not knowing what to do. His hands fidgeted with the papers and his robes, and he looked at her as if commanding her to stop.
But she could no longer stop, though she wished for nothing more. The tears were no longer hers to command. Her insides ached.
She was going to become one of them. Slytherin trash. Scum. All at once, she remembered her father's eyes, his voice so tight …
He was right…
"How—could—I—be—so—stupid—" She sobbed, hiding her face with her hands. "I never—meant—I can't—believe—I—"
And then, suddenly, she found herself somewhere she never dreamed she would be: in Snape's arms.
The embrace was awkward, and Snape's body remained rigid and unsure. From sheer shock the tears dried in her eyes and her body stopped shaking. She became, at once, exceedingly aware of herself, the slope of her shoulders. He smelled, as always of soap and whatever draught he had been making last, and she felt, for that brief moment, the scent seep into her, the lean contours of his hands around the back of her neck. Her hands fell from her face, and she looked up at him, all breath ceased.
He took his arms away quickly.
Say something, Lili. Say something.
But she could think of nothing to say.
His eyes met hers, and in them she spied a smoldering embarrassment. He hadn't wanted to do it. It was an imitation of something he'd seen, something he knew ought to be done. It had been little more than an attempt to quiet her: but he had done it all the same, and, for that, she was eternally grateful.
"Lili." His voice was slow and rhythmic, and she felt that if she closed her eyes, it might lull her into sleep. "Voldemort, his followers—they've fooled many of—many people. This place you are, you did nothing but what you...did—" he paused, swallowing, as if trying to conjure something definite, "And…you know it's not—it wasn't right. That's better than most have done…in your position."
Pulling his eyes away, Snape stood, turning once more to the stack of papers, careful to avoid any further hint of emotion. Every movement became forced. "I will do everything I can to help you out of this. I will leave early tonight: as you might have noticed I am not exceedingly popular even with my friends. As soon as I am back at Hogwarts, I will speak with the Headmaster."
Lili looked up and opened her mouth to object.
"No, trust me," Snape interrupted. "Albus Dumbledore is a wise. His will be the best counsel. I promise you, there is no one in the world you would rather hear these things than he."
She sat back. Every part of her screamed not to tell anyone else, fearing shame or even expulsion, but she had no choice but to trust Snape's judgment.
And somehow Snape himself had been in this situation before, she was almost certain. Had he told Dumbledore? How had he saved himself? Or had he?
As if in a violent reaction, Lili reached out and touched Snape's arm.
The Potions Master jumped and turned to meet her, looking affronted, but she could not move her hand.
"Miss Lee—"
"Please, Professor," she stood, rising almost to his height. "I just—thank you."
Snape pulled away his arm, stepping back, eyes flat and uninviting. "What are you thanking me for? I've done nothing yet."
She reached out again, touching his thin wrist. "Thank you for coming tonight, for offering your help. Thank you for—this." She was careful to hold the tears from her eyes. "I don't know if I could go through this alone."
He pulled away again. "I'm afraid, Miss Lee, you will have to go through this alone." His head sank lower, chin almost to his chest. "But I will do my best to be certain you are safe to make your choices, when the time comes."
She didn't reach out to him again but forced his eyes to hers and smiled weakly. No words came to her lips, and she hoped her face said what her mouth could not.
Though he kept her gaze for only a short time, she could tell he thought it too long. He stood straight, and laid the stack of papers back in her chair. "I must be going. I don't know how I'll be able to contact you if I need to. But don't use Artibius . Perhaps I'll come by again before school. I can always make up some 'business' to be discussed."
She nodded, trying not to think of it.
"Do your best to stay away from Lucius Malfoy," he said, moving towards the door, gripping the handle in thin, eager fingers. "Be careful. Play the Queen of Slytherin, and you should be safe."
Hearing this epithet made her feelings of nausea redouble. She knew she'd have no problem avoiding Lucius Malfoy—she wanted nothing better. But to be the quintessential Slytherin: she didn't know if she could stomach it anymore. "I'll try." A dry whisper.
He opened the door and looked back at her, a hint of mourning. His wan complexion now drenched in half shadow and half dim light, she was suddenly overcome with the sensation of looking down on him, far below, a spectre of a man half in the grave. Tears were burning now behind her eyes, but she swallowed them, hard. "Thank you, Professor."
"Good night, Miss Lee." He disappeared into the darkness of the further corridor leaving Lili alone once again.
Before she could start crying, she flicked the lights in a hard and violent motion and took off once more for her room, running despite Snape's earlier words of caution.
Hours passed, and all Lili could manage was to stare at the thick book on her lap, not really comprehending any words. Midnight came and went, but she felt no change. From below her the sound of smooth violins and tinkling piano keys rose like a whisper.
She couldn't let herself think about anything that had happened that night. Or anything before. Her mind was exhausted, wrung, and she merely waited for her body to follow suit, tucked away between silk sheets and downy pillows. Artibius snoozed loudly beside her. He had grown quite lazy, sleeping, often, even at night. She reached down and petted his belly absent-mindedly.
Tears would, on occasion, sting her eyes, but they came and went of their own accord. Mostly, what few thoughts passed through her mind were random pictures, many of Draco. She thought only briefly of the smile on his face, following his father from the room. No doubt it was something he had dreamed of all his life. She had seen in that grinning face nuances of his father's cruelty: hard indifference twinkling behind his steely eyes, and demons long hidden rising to the surface, lurking in the upturned corners of his lips. Whether there was any hope for him, Lili still could not decide. And now, she had closer concerns to consider.
She had slid down even farther beneath the sheets and was just beginning to feel the slow tingle of exhaustion take hold of her senses, when the door creaked open and Geeti hurried in and to the side of her bed.
The houself had been in several times that evening, checking on her health and bringing her books she'd requested, but this time, her wide eyes and fidgeting fingers made Lili sit up. "I'm fine, Geeti. I was just going to sleep. Is something wrong?"
The small elf's squirming increased, and she crossed the room to the wardrobe, pulling out a pair of modest, black robes and some shoes. "Master is asking for Miss right away. Miss must get dressed and come downstairs."
Lili sat still for a moment, listening. "The music's gone. Isn't the party over?"
Geeti shook her head, holding the robes out to her and shaking them with urgency. "Not for party. Master is asking for you in the main drawing room. Miss must hurry."
The room drained of air, and Lili felt as though she was suffocating, her throat tight with shock. "W-Why?"
"Geeti is not knowing, Miss. Geeti is just knowing what Master tells her and that is Miss must hurry downstairs." The elf pulled her out of bed with a strength Lili couldn't believe the tiny creature possessed.
Every one of Lili's limbs was too leaden to move, but the houself took over, pulling the robes over her head and lifting her feet to fit the shoes.
"Geeti—I'm, I'm not well. Please, go and tell Mister Malfoy that I can't come down, and that I'll speak to him another time." Her voice was quivering, and she eyed the houself pleadingly, every inch of her skin hot with fear.
But the houself had taken hold of her hand and was pulling her out the door. "No, no. Miss must go now. Master says it is urgent. He told me to wake you if I had to and bring you no matter what."
Lili opened her mouth, but no words came out. She could think of nothing to say, no way to escape the meeting. And the houself was pulling her resolutely down the stairs and through the dark, cold corridors. A horrible chill set deep into her bones.
They arrived at the drawing room, and now she truly did feel quite ill. It was not the same room she had spied into before: this one had thick, oak doors, twice her height. Geeti turned the iron knob slowly, and the door gaped open like a giant mouth. She began to tremble uncontrollably.
"Miss is cold," Geeti said, pushing her into the room and then scurrying off to the opposite side where a fireplace stood, unlit. "I will light a fire for Miss while she waits for the Master." The houself busied herself at the hearth.
The room itself was not, in fact, the drawing room, but merely a small antechamber that led into it. The doors to the drawing room were shut tight and seemed even thicker and more imposing than the ones she had just entered. She wilted into a chair, pulling her knees to her chest and fighting back tears not merely of fear and sadness, but of pure emotional exhaustion.
Geeti lit a fire that drenched the room in warmth, turning and exiting quickly, without a word. The oak doors closed with a thud, and she was left alone.
Despite the heat, she continued to quake. The room seemed dead and silent, though the crackling of the fire popped viciously against her ears. Even louder came the beating of her heart, and she forced herself to breath slowly and deeply in some effort to quiet it. She strained to hear anything from the next room.
But there was only silence, and she curled up tighter, rocking gently back and forth. She wished for Snape to be there, to give her some advice. But, she decided, he would long have left the Manor and headed back to Hogwarts. Would Malfoy have told him he was calling on her tonight? Would he know of her danger?
Or had they discovered the letters between them—that Snape had been ready to tell Dumbledore about everything. What would they do to her if they found out her true feelings? What would they do to him?
And yet, the other alternative possibilities for this audience seemed even grimmer still.
When the great oak doors finally opened, it was with an explosion Lili felt might shatter her heart.
Two figures emerged, almost eerily similar. The first was Draco, followed closely by the taller and colder specter of his father.
"Lili." Lucius Malfoy's voice, as hard as the blade of knife, sliced through whatever strength she had left, causing her to shudder more fiercely still.
She pulled her legs down and straightened herself like a snake uncoiling itself and preparing to dart away.
The hand that Draco laid on her shoulder shook her with pain, and she bit her lip, directing all her strength towards fighting the urge to burst into tears. It was too late to run: she felt trapped and helpless. What did they want?
"Please, Lili, don't be afraid. Everyone here is your friend. They want to meet you. There are great things in store for you." She guessed that the smile Mister Malfoy gave her was supposed to be comforting, but it only had the effect of causing the blood to drain from her face and sit heavily in the pit of her stomach.
Draco squeezed her shoulder in an attempt to reassure.
She was vaguely aware of the beads of sweat now forming on her brow. It was a strange sensation that overcame her, the pounding heat mixed with a cold that froze even her bones. With every blink she was convinced her eyes would not have the strength to open once more. Draco held her arm, helping pull her up from the chair, visibly shaking. She turned to meet his face, but it was no longer his. It was flickering manically in the firelight, all the ice and cruelty of his father glimmering back at her.
He was leading her towards the doors.
She could feel the hard lump of a sob in her throat, and she held back her breath, aching from the effort of standing. She could barely hear Mister Malfoy's voice over the frantic heartbeat drumming like thunder in her ear.
"You've done much to advance yourself, Lili. You'll go much farther than anyone in your family: farther than you could have dreamed."
He had opened the doors, revealing a gaping room beyond, dim and lit only by torches and a distance fire.
Oh, please, an earthquake, a fire—anything. Just let something come to stop this.
Cold air drifted from the room beyond, and its icy hand wrapped around her body, pulling her in.
At first, she thought the room was empty, shadows and patches of light littering the floor and dappling the walls. But slowly, she became aware of others surrounding her, veiled in the soft darkness the torchlight afforded. Directly across from her, a fire raged in the stone hearth, and it seemed to blind and numb her with its brightness. She caught several glimpses of faces, each sliding through firelight and shadow, careful to remain obscured. She heard Draco and Lucius re-entering behind her, the oak doors closing with a heart-rending thud.
The room was still and quiet, and Lili was certain that, somehow, they could all hear the panicked beating of her heart. Her entire body ached, and every muscle creaked with even the slightest movement, echoing in her ears. For a time, there was only the sound of her slow, trembling breath.
And then there came a voice, high and cruel, that rent the silence and twisted her heart with a mere whisper.
"Elizabeth Lee."
From the dark shapes of shadow before her emerged a thin and serpentine figure, tall, with skin stretched taut enough to reveal black veins beneath. His slitted, snake-like eyes burned into her skin, and Lili felt herself sinking, melting, every part of her frozen in terror. He was close enough now for his hissing breath to press hot against her skin.
"I'm pleased to finally meet you."
Lili could not move, drowning in the devouring jaws of his stare.
Her lips, dry, proved the only bit of her yet unfrozen, still within her control. Barely a rasp passed them, though it took all her strength to speak even at a whisper.
"Lord Voldemort."