CHAPTER 15
Into the Fire
Snape moved stealthily to the house. He walked around the corner and along the side of the house until he came to a small side door, likely a seldom-used servants' entrance. He tested the knob; it was locked.
Grasping his wand firmly, he whispered, "Alohomora!" and heard a muffled click. He tried the knob again and it turned smoothly. Wincing in anticipation of the door creaking, he pushed it open slowly; but it made no noise. Lucius Malfoy's attention to detail and demand for excellent service apparently extended even to the oiling of hinges on obscure outer doors.
The door led into a narrow corridor, lit only by a single candle halfway down its length. Immediately inside the door was a narrow servants' stairway leading up. Snape shut the door, then paused to listen. There were no sounds in his immediate vicinity, although somewhere above he heard a door close and brisk purposeful footsteps heading down a corridor away from him.
He advanced slowly down the corridor, wand drawn. There were what appeared to be niches at regular intervals along the corridor, covered by draperies. He noted absently that the velvet here was in much better condition than that of the Grimmauld Place draperies. He was not sure of the purpose for the niches and assumed they held statuary or artwork, but upon investigation he saw that they were shallow alcoves with windows.
He paused for a moment as he reached the corner, wondering where Professor Lovejoy was most likely to be kept. If Voldemort really was in residence, he reasoned, it was unlikely that she would be treated as a guest. At best she would be imprisoned somewhere in the house. Simple: he need only avoid running afoul of any Death Eaters while he searched for her! But at worst--no, he refused to speculate in that direction. Besides, he reluctantly admitted to himself, there were so many scenarios that could qualify for "worst", he wouldn't know where to begin.
The sound of approaching voices intruded on his musings. Snape glanced about frantically, but the only possible hiding place was the nearest window alcove. He quickly stepped behind the velvet drapery, making certain his boots did not protrude. Barely breathing, he waited for the unknown speakers to pass.
A man's voice said, "Never mind, my pet. Soon he will have what he wants, and then most likely he will move on. You know he never stays in one place for long." It was Lucius Malfoy.
Snape recognized Narcissa's voice next. She sounded petulant. "But, Lucius, we can't even use our own conservatory. And such plans as I had for tonight, my love." She purred lasciviously, and they stopped immediately in front of the alcove where Snape, an unwilling eavesdropper, stood hidden. There were kissing noises accompanied by throaty sounds of pleasure from Narcissa. Snape rolled his eyes. Merlin's beard--were they going to make love right there in the corridor?
Lucius spoke again. "I look forward to seeing what you have in mind. But in the mean time we shall have to make do with some other location--the formal gardens, perhaps?"
Narcissa giggled. "Oh, yes, Lucius," she said breathlessly. "You know what making love outdoors does to me." More intimate noises followed. Snape gritted his teeth.
"But--Lucius--what if His Lordship needs us?" Narcissa asked suddenly.
Lucius snorted. "I think Avery can look after him for a few hours. Come--let's not waste any more time," he urged. They continued down the hall at a faster pace, running down the servants' stairway and out of the door.
Snape waited in the alcove until he heard the door shut. Cautiously he pulled the drapery aside and peered down the corridor. No one was there, and he heard no one approaching. He considered for a moment. He had only been here once before, soon after he had become a Death Eater. He vaguely recalled bits and pieces about the layout of the manor. He wondered why the Malfoys were avoiding the conservatory and decided to see what he could find out there.
He sped on silent feet to the next corner and turned right, toward the rear of the house, where he remembered the conservatory being. It was very large, housing a private jungle that Narcissa Malfoy was quite proud of. She had collected hundreds of exotic and dangerous plants--a fitting environment for Narcissa, herself akin to a sleek, bloodthirsty jungle cat.
Snape wondered how far he would get before someone opened a door and caught him or he walked around a corner and met a group of Death Eaters. But the house kept its secrets well; there was no sound of conversation, no sign of any inhabitants. Snape almost wondered if there were some mistake and Professor Lovejoy was not here after all. But no--the Malfoys had said Voldemort was here, and if Trillium was indeed the bait in a trap to catch Snape, she was no doubt here somewhere.
His noise picked up the humid scent of soil and organic matter. He must be close to the conservatory. He continued until he reached an open door and paused to listen. Unlike the empty corridors in other parts of the house, the vast expanse of vegetation inside was never completely silent. There was a constant soft rustling, as of a soft breeze blowing among treetops and setting leaves in motion. As Snape stepped inside, the heavy humidity enveloped him like a cloak. There was a strange feeling of life, immutable and relentless, in the very air.
There was something else here as well. He couldn't put a name to it, but there was a certain sense within the silence that spoke of another presence--waiting as he was waiting, and aware that he was here.
Snape moved hesitantly along the paving stones leading further into the conservatory. The doorway was soon lost to sight among the dense foliage of the plants and artfully trailing vines, but he had only to look up to see the starry night sky through the glass roof. A few of the roof panels were open to maintain a careful balance of humidity.
He stopped to listen again. Had something rustled beyond that row of bushes? The oppressive atmosphere made it easy to imagine sounds that weren't really there. He moved forward again and came to a low stone wall. He stepped up to it and realized it was the edge of a raised pool; the stars were reflected patchily among the lilies growing over its surface.
Then it came again--a sort of slithering noise. It came from nowhere, and everywhere. The fine hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and the sweat caused by the room's humidity chilled suddenly on his body. Snape was no coward, but he had an aversion to snakes that was every bit as desperate as Ron's fear of spiders. An odd thing, for a Slytherin, but there you were. He wished he dared to make a bit of light, but it wouldn't be wise. He'd been amazingly lucky to get this far without detection.
Snape edged around the pond, pushing his way further into the lush growth. A new scent joined the rich mix of vegetation and soil; something far less appealing that carried a hint of putrefaction and oily, sluggish rot. A whiff of death. It grew stronger by the moment, wafting to his nostrils on pulsing waves of humidity.
Suddenly he emerged into a clear space at the center of the conservatory. In spite of himself, he blanched at the sight that met his eyes. A broad white marble block, veined with gold that sparkled faintly in the starlight, stood atop a tiered stone platform. On the marble block lay the crumpled form of Trillium Lovejoy.
But what drew Snape's eye was the thing that lay at the foot of the block--the glistening coils of Voldemort's most faithful servant, the giant serpent Nagini. The snake was coiled about the marble block, its red, reptilian eyes fixed unwaveringly upon Snape. Its presence was something he had not planned on. However, although Voldemort was a Parseltongue and could actually speak with Nagini, Snape had never seen any evidence of a psychic connection between them. If his luck was holding, perhaps his presence was still undetected by the Dark Lord.
Snape and the serpent gazed at each other. Snape was about twenty feet away--a safe enough distance while the serpent remained coiled around the block--but still much closer than he liked. He assessed the situation.
There certainly was no easy way to get to Trillium. Snape thought fleetingly of Potter's Invisibility Cloak and wished he had it now, but he thought Nagini might be able to sense his presence even with the cloak. He supposed he could levitate, or perhaps Apparate on top of the marble block, lift Trillium into his arms, and Apparate to somewhere else. But the chances of his being able to do so before Nagini reached him were almost nonexistent. So he remained where he was, frantic with worry for Trillium but uncertain how to proceed. Nagini seemed prepared to stay where she was for as long as it took for Snape to put a foot wrong; Snape knew he must come up with a better plan, one that did not end in his becoming a snake-snack.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Molly and Arthur Weasley felt it best to split up and go with different groups when they entered the house. "So the children won't be left orphans, should the worst happen," Arthur said solemnly. "Although of course it won't," Molly hastened to add. But as they looked into each other's eyes they knew that, of course, the worst could happen. The very fact of the attack on the professors, taking place as it had almost within sight of Hogwarts, was evidence of how bold the Death Eaters had become. It was as if they feared no repercussions--as if they were ridiculing the Ministry and all the forces of Light, daring them to do their worst.
A group consisting of Molly and Bill Weasley ("Look after your mother," Arthur told him quietly, and Bill clasped his hand in silent pledge) and Tonks made their way round to the front of the house. For the occasion, Tonks had actually dyed her hair a comparatively normal color--dead black--so as to be less visible. It looked awful on her, as dyed-black hair so often does. It made her face stand out in stark contrast and appear an unhealthy, pasty white. Molly resolved to have a private word with the girl about her hair-coloring escapades at the earliest opportunity.
Bill motioned for them to halt and pointed to an open ground-floor window beside the imposing front entrance. "I'll climb in," he mouthed. "Wait here--" He indicated the shrubbery beneath the window. "I'll open the front door for you." Tonks bent and laced her fingers together, giving him a leg-up. She and Molly waited anxiously as he landed briefly on the windowsill--then, the coast clear, he disappeared inside the darkened room.
Tonks vaulted lightly over the railing and onto the front stairs and tiptoed up to the heavy wooden door. She put her ear against it but could hear nothing. She waved to Molly to join her, but Molly pointed to where she stood and urgently mouthed, "Wait!" Tonks ignored her and gripped the latch. She squeezed gently. Just as it began to yield, it was swept from her grasp and the door swung open from the inside. Molly's hand went to her throat. Tonks' heart nearly stopped.
But it was only Bill, come to let them in. He gave a violent start upon seeing Tonks standing there. Furious, he grabbed her by the front of her robe and yanked her into the house. "Stay put!" he motioned angrily. He turned back to wave his mother up the stairs; she was already running lightly up to the door. As soon as she was inside, Bill swung the door shut. Then he turned to face Tonks, hands on hips.
"What on earth did you think you were doing?" he demanded, barely whispering. Tonks opened her mouth to answer, but before she could get a sound out, Bill planted a hard kiss on her lips. Tonks and Molly looked equally shocked. Tonks looked as if she was interested in pursuing this wholly unexpected line of activity, but a sharp little smack on both their heads from Molly brought them back to reality. Bill took Tonks' hand firmly in his, and the three of them continued across the foyer and started up the stairway leading to the gallery.
Just as they reached the top, a Death Eater emerged from a door in the middle of the gallery. He started in surprise at sight of them and opened his mouth to cry out. Immediately three wands were at the ready with silent Stunning spells, and he fell limply to the carpet. Bill dragged him hurriedly to a window seat that lay in darkness at the end of the gallery and hid him behind the velvet drapery. Before leaving him there he whispered, "Petrificus totalus!" He was taking no chances on the Death Eater recovering from being Stunned and going anywhere, any time soon.
They watched the doorway from which the Death Eater had appeared apprehensively as they edged past it to one of the side corridors, but no one else came out. The side corridor was quite long and very dim; light showed under two of the doors along its length. The trio reversed direction for a moment and crammed into an empty window seat, Molly keeping watch through a gap in the drapery. An hushed but intense conversation ensued.
"There are still people awake up here," Molly objected. "For all we know, there are people behind every one of those doors. Perhaps even You-Know-Who. We should wait for them to come out and take them one at a time, not go bursting into the rooms. Only think of the noise--we're liable to alert the whole house."
Bill disagreed. "But it's late, and most of them are probably in their rooms for the night. There's no guarantee anyone's going to come out this late. That could take all night and then some."
Molly looked at him and winked. "Oh, I think they will," she said. "Watch this." She thrust aside the velvet drape and stepped into the corridor. "Come on," she whispered. Mystified, Bill and Tonks shrugged at each other and followed.
Molly stopped outside the first door that showed a strip of light at the bottom. Finger to her lips, she grinned at them, then bent down and waved her wand near the gap under the door. As they watched, a thin ribbon of something that looked like smoke issued from the tip of her wand and wafted under the door. After a moment she straightened up and whispered, "Get ready, now!"
There was a surprised feminine murmur from inside the room, followed by an annoyed-sounding masculine reply. The female voice became querulous, and the male voice grunted. There was the sound of a bed creaking and then stomping footsteps crossing to the door. As it opened, the Weasleys and Tonks waited, wands at the ready. An older Death Eater emerged, shut the door, and looked up to find the hall bathed in red light from the three Stunning spells winging their way toward his chest. He fell with a surprised look on his face, making no sound. Bill dispatched him to the window seat with their other captive, Petrifying their latest acquisition also for good measure.
He came back to the doorway and gestured questioningly. Molly nodded. She turned the doorknob and they advanced quickly into the room. A small, middle-aged woman sat at the dressing table with her back to them, brushing her hair. She had but a moment to direct a shocked look at them in her mirror before she was being Stunned and taken to join her husband in the window seat.
Bill went back to the now-vacant bedroom, where Tonks and Molly waited. "Well, at least we know one room is safe," he said softly. "Maybe we should take this lot out to Kingsley before we get too many to handle. This is going more easily than I thought it would."
Molly cautioned, "Perhaps--but let's not get careless. There are probably quite a few more Death Eaters here, especially if You-Know-Who's managed to summon most of them." They agreed to empty one more room and then deliver their captives to Kingsley.
Tonks asked, "Molly--what was it that you used to get them out of the room?"
"Oh, that." Molly looked pleased. "Just a little spell I worked out one day. It sends a stream of chocolate-chip-cookie scent right out of the tip of one's wand. I had no idea what practical use it might be, but I thought it was rather fun." She looked smug. "It worked a treat, didn't it? No one can resist the smell of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies."
Bill hugged her. "Mum, you're a wonder. Now--let's get on with it." They left the bedroom and walked down the hall to the next lighted door, the costly, thick carpet underfoot silencing their footsteps.
Molly repeated her performance with the decoy cookie scent and netted them another Death Eater. This one was even more elderly than the last pair.
"Do you think it's a bit much, all three of us Stunning them at once?" Tonks asked anxiously. "I mean, they're rather old, and...well..." She quailed at the stony looks she received from Bill and Molly.
"Tonks, dear," Molly said gently, "do you have any idea how many people have suffered--died--at the hands of these people? If they suffer a little pain in the chest from a triple Stunning spell, it's not going to kill them. Well, probably not, anyway. I really can't bring myself to feel too sorry for them if it does. Think of poor Trillium, and see if that doesn't get you past the sympathy. Or the Longbottoms--or poor Harry's parents."
Tonks nodded slowly. "You're right," she said. "Of course you are. I suppose I forgot for a moment, that's all."
Molly patted her shoulder. "That's quite all right, dear. Compassion is an excellent thing--but it's rather misplaced here."
Bill returned from hiding their most recent captive. "I say, we'd best get this group out of here before we go looking for more," he said. "No point in biting off more than we can chew. It'll be a job getting these four out of the house without anyone seeing us." The women agreed, and they stole back to their window-seat cache.
The four Death Eaters hidden there were in various stages of recovery from being Stunned, but thanks to Bill's Petrificus spell they could do no more than glare balefully at their captors. Tonks had taken the added precaution of hunting out the wands belonging to the last three and tossing them into their fireplaces.
Bill whispered, "Locomotor bodies!" and the four Death Eaters' corpse-like figures floated off the window seat to hover a short distance above the floor. Tonks, Molly, and Bill hurriedly moved them down the gallery stairs and into the foyer. It was deserted as before. Bill tugged the heavy door open and they waved the Death Eaters out into the cool night air. Bill shut the door behind them carefully and the little procession glided silently back around the house and across the sloping lawn to where Kingsley, Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall waited.
Dumbledore stood as they approached. "Excellent," he murmured softly. He walked among the four Death Eaters, looking intently into their faces. "Ah, yes," he said with some satisfaction. "The Crispins, Luteo Amado, and...why, hello, Marcus," he said to the last man to be taken. To the others, he said, "Marcus Rookwood. Uncle to the Rookwood you know, and worse than his nephew ever thought of being. Good work--very good work." He beamed at them.
Kingsley stepped forward. "My turn, I think?" he said.
Dumbledore explained. "Kingsley, Minerva, and I are taking it in turns to escort our--er--guests--to the Ministry, where they are being well looked after by Ministry staff until a trial can be arranged." He stretched. "I should think that very soon they will all be securely shut up in Azkaban."
Molly wondered to herself how secure Azkaban really was, since several Death Eaters had already escaped the wizard prison once. Dumbledore interpreted her dubious look correctly.
"It was actually the Dementors who set them free last time," he said, "and the Dementors have deserted Azkaban to serve Voldemort elsewhere. Apparently even they are not above bargaining with the Dark Lord. He promised them as many souls as they wished in return for releasing his Death Eaters. I believe the fate he intends for all of us is the Dementor's kiss." His usually amiable features were grim. "Every Death Eater we remove from Voldemort's service makes such a fate that much less likely."
"How many have been taken so far?" Tonks asked eagerly. Her enthusiasm brought Dumbledore's smile back.
"The ones you've just brought make twelve so far," he told them. "Lucius and Narcissa have not been found yet, nor the Lestranges, but Mssrs. Crabbe and Goyle turned up earlier."
"Indeed," he said, "although the capture of so many Death Eaters is of course a good thing, it does seem as if things have been almost too easy so far. There has been no resistance to capture by most of them. Also, most of them have been the older members. It does make one wonder just a little. However, I can say that everyone on our side seems to be doing splendidly--no casualties of any kind. I have not yet seen Severus, but everyone else has reported back at least once."
Dumbledore turned his head sharply as a faint sound of laughter came to them on the breeze. His eyes narrowed. "I believe," he said, "we may have found the Malfoys. Would you three care to...?"
Molly, Bill, and Tonks agreed at once. Hoods up to keep the bright starlight from reflecting off their pale faces, they crept toward the sounds of merriment issuing from the formal gardens off to one side of the house.
"What on earth can they be doing?" Tonks muttered under her breath. Bill glanced at her warningly, not wanting any hint of voices to reach their quarry. It seemed they didn't have to worry; the woman's laughter sounded again, closer now.
"Luuucius," she called. "Where are you?" Flirtatious giggles. "Naughty boy, to hide from Narcissa. Come out and play, Lucius."
"Yes, do, Lucius," muttered Bill. As he uttered the words, there was a bright flash of green and a cry of "Avada kedavra!" Bill dived to the ground in time to avoid it, but a strangled cry came from a few feet away. He looked around wildly, but Tonks and Molly were both safe, having seen Lucius emerge from behind a hedge just in time to duck. They looked at each other, wondering who had screamed.
A moment later, a roar of fury came from Malfoy as he realized what he had done. Bill rose cautiously from behind the low wall where he had taken cover. He saw Malfoy standing a few feet away, Narcissa's lifeless form in his arms.
Immediately Bill sent a Stunner flying at Malfoy and arrived, panting, just in time to Petrify him. Malfoy's grief and rage were so powerful that the Stunning spell alone had hardly affected him, and everyone breathed a bit more easily once he was completely immobilized.
Bill said, "No one inside can miss all the ruckus going on out here. Let's hurry and get him to Dumbledore." But, strangely, no one did come running to investigate the disturbance, a fact that was more disturbing than comforting.
The noise had, however, drawn the other teams of Aurors and Order members back to the gathering spot, curious as to what was happening. Everyone had to hear the story and see Lucius Malfoy, Petrified and hovering in midair with a deadly look frozen on his face. Dumbledore lost not a moment. He picked up a Portkey and, grasping Malfoy's arm, said in a firm voice, "The Ministry of Magic." Without a sound they were gone.
Kingsley looked at Professor McGonagall. "I think it's time to wrap this up," he said. "Just because no one's come running to see what's going on doesn't mean there aren't more Death Eaters inside." He said, more softly, "And if You-Know-Who's here, I say we quit while we're ahead." Others agreed with him, although Tonks and some of the younger folk, energized by the late-night adventure, were inclined to want it to continue.
Professor McGonagall said worriedly, "There's still been no sign of Severus or Trillium. I think we definitely should disband, but we can't just leave not knowing what's happened to either of them."
Kingsley nodded. "Quite right, Minerva." He addressed the group tiredly. "Perhaps if one or two of you want to stay..." he said. "You've done a good night's work tonight. It'll cramp the Dark Lord's style for certain." One by one they Disapparated until Kingsley, Professor McGonagall, Molly, and Arthur were the only ones remaining. Dumbledore Apparated in their midst rather abruptly just then, and Kingsley explained that he had sent the others home.
"That's probably for the best," Dumbledore said. "Not much they can do here at the moment." He turned to look up at the great house. "I do wonder what's keeping Severus," he said. "I have a rather uneasy feeling about him."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Snape stared at the snake staring back at him for what seemed like hours while Trillium lay motionless on the block. He wondered if a Stunning spell would work on the snake. He'd never had occasion to try it on something so large.
A while ago, for lack of a better idea, he had tried levitating to see how the snake would react. It had risen along with him, a slow and macabre dance of sorts, until Snape was right up against the glass ceiling. Most of the snake was off the floor, rising vertically in the air--something Snape had had no idea snakes could do. He sank back to the floor, the snake descending as well, and tried to think of something else to try.
Some time later he saw a green flash off to his left, toward the formal gardens. He remembered the Malfoys' intention to go there to continue their amorous pursuits, and wondered vaguely whether one of the Order members had found death in the garden.
He looked consideringly at the snake. He wondered if the Killing Curse would do the trick. He really thought it might. He didn't care a whit that it was an illegal curse. Who was going to punish him for killing a snake--Voldemort's snake, at that? The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea.
The snake stirred restlessly, as if she were somehow able to divine Snape's intentions. She lifted her great head, the forked tongue flickering at regular intervals, and rose until she was at the level of the marble block. Her unblinking gaze fixed firmly on Snape's, Nagini hovered above Trillium for a moment and then settled across her motionless body, as if to say, I dare you to try it now. Snape sagged, discouraged.
Suddenly the serpent trailed off and descended to the floor, heading directly for Snape. He moved backward, almost tripping in his haste to maintain a good distance from the creature. The snake stopped--then moved forward for several more feet. Snape was frustrated by this game; it was not lost on him that he was slowly being herded away from Trillium.
In an instant he made up his mind. He raised his wand to try it. The snake halted, lifting her head to see him better. He cried, "Avada--" but that was as far as he got. His wand suddenly flew out of his hand.
Snape whirled, a moment too late. A tall, cadaverously thin figure stood behind him.
"Snape," hissed Voldemort. "So you have come. You have left it a bit late, have you not?" His red eyes glared at Snape. "Surely you were not intending to harm my faithful Nagini?" He glided past Snape, who could not help shrinking from contact with him as he passed, and stroked the great reptile, who rubbed her head against his hand like a macabre, oversized dog.
"So you couldn't resist my little trap, eh?" chortled Voldemort, glancing at Trillium. "Quite a toothsome morsel, I suppose. If one has a taste for that sort of thing, which I do not. Nagini, however..." He trailed off, patting the snake gently, and let the threat sink in.
Snape despised himself for giving in, but if there were any chance of Trillium getting out of this alive he was willing to do anything to give her that chance.
"Master," he began, the word sticking in his throat, "I doubt you would want her goodness--" he indicated Trillium-- "to taint your pet. I believe there is a corpse out in the garden that would be more to the serpent's taste."
Voldemort spoke dismissively. "I care not whether the creature lives or dies," he said. "She is nothing. You, however--you are something. What, exactly, are you, Snape? Someone who has denied his master, eh? Not only denied, but betrayed. Not many of my servants have displayed such rank stupidity, you know. And those who do have paid for it, as will you. Tell me, Severus: why did you betray me? What has all this--" his lip curled-- "goodness gotten you? You see you are at my mercy in the end, after all."
Snape said nothing. He had deserted Voldemort because some deeply buried shred of humanity had finally rebelled at the thought of a lifetime of the kind of servitude Voldemort required. Since he did not particularly want to end his own life, the only alternative he could see had been to join Dumbledore and the opposition. Dumbledore had no secret knowledge or bargain with Snape, as everyone believed. He simply trusted the good that he believed to be still in the man. And Snape had never let him down.
But he knew none of that interested Voldemort. All he saw was Snape's betrayal, and because of those Snape had sided with, he, Lord Voldemort, had been delayed in his rise to power. That he had eventually assumed his full powers regardless was not the point--betrayal was the point. Snape would have to pay.
"You care for her, do you not?" Voldemort said, flicking a glance at Trillium. "Foolish weakness. Humans are so frail; she is quite beyond knowing or caring for you now, you know," he said spitefully.
Snape remained expressionless, but he felt his heart crack a little. His gaze slid to Trillium against his will. Was she really dead, then?
"Not dead," Voldemort said. "Although while she was still conscious she--wished--for death." He made a sound that could have been laughter, had he been capable of such a thing. "You'll wish it for both of you before this night is over," he promised.
Almost lazily, he raised his wand. "Crucio," he said. Whereas with Trillium he had roared it, now he said it gently--almost, if such a thing could be said of the Dark Lord, lovingly.
Perhaps, as a result, Snape did not feel quite the same degree of pain she had felt. Still, it was bad enough: like the worst hangover, flu, motion sickness, and sunburn one could imagine. Combined. He ached everywhere, and burned with heat inside and out. His eyes hurt, and he was wracked with nausea. Gradually the pain subsided to a bearable level, and he opened his eyes to find himself curled in a tight ball on the floor. He willed his aching body to relax enough so that he could totter to his feet.
Voldemort regarded him dispassionately. "Oh, very good," he said. "You seem to be recovering nicely. If you keep this up you may just provide enough entertainment that I shall consider letting you live a bit longer." He shook his head in mock disappointment. "I'm afraid the woman didn't do nearly as well. Of course, I may have given her a rather larger dose--yes, much larger, as I recall. She was quite...insolent." His eyes gleamed with unholy amusement. "It's so difficult to get it just right every time. I suppose I don't know my own strength."
As Voldemort spoke, Snape saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Amazed, he saw Trillium rising above the foliage toward the ceiling. He squeezed his eyes shut and looked again, just in time to see her float up and out of one of the open ceiling panels, and then she moved out of his line of sight. Voldemort had not noticed; he was spouting some drivel about not knowing his own strength.
Just knowing that, somehow, Trillium was being got away to safety by the Order gave Snape the strength he needed to resist the hypnotic murmur of Voldemort's voice.
"Perhaps you don't know your own strength," he said softly. "But do you know your own weaknesses?"
Voldemort looked at him in surprise. "Weaknesses?" he repeated. "My only weakness is showing compassion where none is merited." He raised his wand again, then stopped, seeming to consider. "Perhaps it would be interesting to know what you think my weaknesses are," he sneered. "So I can amuse myself by recounting them on long winter nights in the ages to come." He looked at Snape quizzically. "Well?"
Snape heard a rustle in the bushes to his right. He started, thinking of the serpent. Then a hand touched his, squeezed it briefly, and withdrew again.
"Lost your train of thought?" Voldemort asked.
Snape cleared his throat. "No," he said, looking down and to the rear of Voldemort in an attempt to get him to look there also. "I just wondered what had become of your...little pet. I don't want it sneaking up on me." He gave a realistic shudder.
The distraction worked. Voldemort turned his head to peer behind him. "Nagini is the least of your worries," he said.
Snape felt the hand again. It took hold of his and folded it firmly around a cylindrical metal object. He heard Kingsley's voice ring out: "The Ministry of Magic!" He caught a momentary glimpse of Voldemort as he turned, saying, "What--?" and then they were arriving in the lobby of the Ministry.
"Where--?" said Snape in some confusion. "How did--"
Kingsley patted his hand. "No time now." He kept Snape's hand firmly glued to the edge of the brass vase and said, "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!" Snape felt the sharp jerk in his midsection as the Portkey took them in the blink of an eye to the house at Grimmauld Place.
Kingsley sighed. "Just a bit of misdirection, should he still have anyone to send after us," he said by way of explanation. "Best if you stay here for what's left of tonight, Severus. Get some rest. Trillium's upstairs. We--er--we aren't sure yet how badly she's been affected." He nodded briskly. "We'll gather everyone here tomorrow afternoon. I must be off now. Get some sleep, and don't worry. Dumbledore seems to think she'll come out of it right enough," he said reassuringly. He Disapparated, and Snape was left staring dumbly into thin air.
He turned and shuffled slowly upstairs. It occurred to him that he was walking like an old man--at that moment he felt like one--but he didn't care. He had to see Trillium for himself before he could even thinking of sleeping.
He found her in his bed. He wondered vaguely who had chosen that room, and thought it must have been Dumbledore. The inveterate old matchmaker, he thought. Snape moved to the bedside and looked down at her. She looked so...empty, somehow. He took her hand. She didn't stir. Softly he brushed the hair back from her face, resting his palm against her cheek for a moment.
"Trillium, please come back to me," he whispered. "I--I love you." He climbed onto the bed beside her and lay with her hand in his, watching her face until exhaustion claimed him and he slept.