After a week of making slow progress with Les Miserables - it was a somewhat tedious book and she was less than halfway through it - Rachel decided to go ahead and listen to the musical soundtrack. It was different to any music she had heard before and her immediate response to listening to it all the way through was to put the first cassette back into her Walkman and listen again. The story was much more approachable when people were singing about it, though she thought she was rather missing some things that must have been said between the songs.
It was a little weird to be able to draw parallels from her life to the story. Severus was Jean Valjean, a man with a dark past who was evading the law, though Sirius could also sort of fit that role too. She was Cosette, an orphan rescued from the cruel people who had been raising her - which definitely made Severus Valjean. The only problem with those comparisons was it made Dudley into Eponine.
She hadn't given Dudley much thought these past five years. She'd never had a good relationship with her cousin, but looking back with some distance, she thought that was more her uncle and her aunt's fault than it was Dudley's. They had loved Dudley, but some of the things they did with Dudley hadn't been very good for him. The way they encouraged Dudley to eat certainly came to mind. And Dudley had been in plenty of trouble at school, and while her aunt and uncle had always excused Dudley, Rachel thought they wouldn't always be able to do that. One day, if he kept on as he was the last time she'd seen him, Dudley would get into a fight with the wrong person and either wind up seriously hurt or in prison.
She wasn't even sure she'd recognize her cousin if she saw him now. She would bet that he wouldn't recognize her. Five years was a long time. She had never pressed Severus to find out what had happened with her relatives after the newspaper article had been released. She assumed that he would have told her if something had happened to them. Maybe she didn't want to know. The less time she spent thinking about her relatives, the better off she'd be.
The other problem with her comparisons of people in her life to the book was the role of Marius. Of all the people in her life, Theo was probably the best fit, but she didn't want a romantic relationship with Theo and she doubted he would ever meet her cousin. As long as Victor Hugo didn't write any more about the Parisian sewer system, she thought she would get through the rest of the book, even if almost everyone did seem to die.
It was late afternoon and she was in her bedroom. She'd taken to practicing sitting on the edge of her bed. She had to lean forward to support herself with her forearms against her thighs, but at least she was mostly sitting upright without laying against something. She was able to sort of scuttle like a crab across the floor, though it left her tired quickly. When Severus had seen her do it, he had told her that he could move her wherever she wished to go, or fetch her whatever she needed. She had simply decided that she wouldn't do it in front of him, but she could make it back and forth from her bed to her bookcase or wardrobe. The real difficulty was pulling herself back onto the bed afterward, but she could manage it. She had no doubt that she'd never hear the end of it if Severus found her lying on the floor.
She wasn't quite bored. She had plenty to do. She had started writing outlines for her summer homework and working on the scroll of Arithmancy problems that Millie had placed in the front of Rachel's two-way book. She had books to read. She had cassettes to listen to. She could talk to her friends in her two-way book. And she still slept a fair portion of the time.
Maybe it wasn't boredom she was feeling. It felt more akin to restlessness. She wanted to move. She wanted to do things. She wanted to fly.
And yet, at the same time, it was much easier to simply curl up under a blanket with her stuffed bunny and fall asleep. Sleeping was the best escape she could ask for, especially while she wasn't dreaming, and somehow sleep never was far away when she closed her eyes. She would take that for as long as she could get it.
She decided to check her two-way book before she settled in for a third nap. She hadn't bothered to put a password on it so she flipped it open to the pages with the most recent writing and found a conversation in process.
'Hermione, did you really send us all a book about a group of people losing a revolutionary war while we are in the middle of a war?' Theo had written, underlining the word 'losing'.
'Yes, but we're actually on the side of the status quo and the government, not the side of the so-called revolutionary figures, if you can even call You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters that. I'd call them terrorists,' Hermione had written back.
'Hermione. Everyone dies!' Theo wrote, the words slightly splattered.
Rachel smiled, apparently Theo was further in the book than she was, but she'd figured that many of the people in the war had died due to Marius' song on the second cassette. It was a little scary to imagine that happening to them and to the Order. She wanted all of her friends to be alive at the end of the war. She couldn't bear to imagine one of them dying.
'Well, it's historically accurate. The French Revolution failed. Hugo couldn't write that they had succeeded,' Hermione wrote back.
'I'm not questioning Hugo's commitment to historical accuracy, I'm questioning if we really want to be reading this in the middle of a war where people we know are probably going to die,' Theo wrote.
Rachel raised her eyebrows and fiddled with her quill, trying to decide whether or not to intercede. She usually didn't when Hermione and Theo bickered over the years as they typically knew when to pull their punches with each other.
'I wasn't really thinking of it in that way. It's just a good story and something for us to do together. The only thing our current war has in common with the French Revolution is the fact that it's a war. And yes, people are probably going to die, but with the Ministry now on our side, and the Order, I think the Death Eaters are going to be restricted to terrorist operations rather than fighting an open war. Don't you?' Hermione's question mark was a little unformed, though Rachel wasn't sure if she was reading too much into it. She waited for Theo's answer.
'What I think is that the Dark Lord won't stop until he's in control of the Ministry and the Wizengamot, and probably Hogwarts too, and he will be willing to kill a lot of people to do it. Time is on his side. As far as I know, no one knows where the Death Eaters are, or even how many of them there are, or who most of them are. There are likely Death Eaters in the Ministry itself. They may be currently restricted to small attacks, but they won't be for long. How do you think the Dark Lord recruited so many people in the last war? People who were willing to die for him? Politically, not all that much has changed from twenty years ago. We already know that a fair portion of the Wizengamot supports his politics even if they don't support his actions. A lot of people are going to die, and I don't like the idea that it could be any of our friends.' There was a blotch of ink at the end, like Theo was deciding if he was going to write more.
Rachel frowned. Out of all of her friends, Hermione was the most likely to be targeted, both as a muggleborn and as her friend. Draco, of course, was also in a lot of danger, but at least he was well hidden. She also knew something her friends didn't. The war wasn't going to end until she stopped it. She had thought it was a death sentence when she'd first been told about the prophecy, and if anything, the last few weeks only reinforced how helpless she was against the Dark Lord.
The best thing the Order and the MLE could do was target the Death Eaters. Anyone who wound up going against the Dark Lord himself was going to die.
'How did You-Know-Who recruit so many people in the last war?' Hermione finally wrote.
Theo began writing without hesitation. 'Because a lot of people agreed with him. And many of the purebloods and half-bloods who didn't agree with him offered their support anyway so that they wouldn't be killed. They weren't Death Eaters themselves, but they offered financial or political support. From what my father says, the Dark Lord was about to win the war. Of course, the people who had supported him in any sense quickly said they hadn't or that they were coerced as soon as the war was over. And people let it go, because it was a good portion of our people.'
Rachel leaned forward to write. 'Severus says that too. They were preparing to evacuate Hogwarts and begin a Ministry in exile. They expected Hogwarts to fall within the year.'
'Why do none of the history books mention this? In none of the books I've read did it sound like the Death Eaters were winning.' Hermione wrote.
She waited, wanting to know the answer to that, though she had her own suspicions.
'Bias, mostly. Just like people won't admit that they supported the Dark Lord, they won't admit that if it weren't for that Halloween night, we'd be living under the Dark Lord's system of government. That war probably would have spread to the continent. Britain was just the beginning,' Theo wrote after a moment.
Rachel began to write. 'Some things will be different this time. The Ministry and the Wizengamot acknowledged the threat earlier. Everyone knows what to expect from the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters. Severus says there is less anti-muggleborn bias than there used to be, so maybe the Death Eater position won't be so popular.'
'There is still plenty of anti-muggleborn and anti-muggle bias, believe me,' Hermione wrote quickly.
'There is. But we also know something now that we didn't know before. The Dark Lord can be beaten. He isn't infallible. And maybe that will help give people hope.' Theo wrote back.
She bit her lip. There was only one way for the Dark Lord to be beaten. And she couldn't do it. Eventually she was going to have to tell Severus and Professor Dumbledore that, but she was also pretty sure of what their answer would be. They'd assure her that she could, and they'd be there every step of the way, and that she'd be trained, and it was possible. Easy for them to say. They weren't the ones who actually had to do it.
So much for having a secret power to defeat the Dark Lord. She'd just laid there and screamed and begged.
Rachel gasped and shuddered at the full body memory. She felt like the room was spinning around her. Once again she imagined pushing the memory away, locking it away where it couldn't get to her, where it couldn't invade her mind. She felt dizzy and more than a little sick to her stomach.
When she opened her eyes, she found another message in the two-way book.
'Rachel, what did you think of Les Mis? Too depressing? Did I make a mistake?' Hermione had asked.
She picked up her quill. 'I'm not quite halfway through and it's fine. It's a good distraction. I like the music.'
'I like the music too. One day we should all go see the show together. Maybe Phantom of the Opera. Have either of you ever seen a stage musical?' Hermione wrote back.
'I'm pretty sure that's a muggle thing. There is a fair amount of wizarding theater, but usually people don't sing in it,' Theo wrote.
'I've never seen anything on stage. It might be fun to see something one day,' Rachel wrote. Assuming there was ever an end to the war. Assuming they lived through it.
'We should. And maybe Theo can show us the wizarding theater as well. I have to go, my mom's calling me to help with dinner. I'll write to you again tomorrow,' Hermione wrote, the words a little sloppier in her haste.
'We'll be here. I should go too. Everything okay at your place, Rachel?' Theo asked.
'Everything is fine. It's quiet, which is nice. Everything okay at the Zabini's house?' she wrote back, glad for the opening to check on Theo.
'I wouldn't describe it as quiet, but it's fine. Blaise has taken refuge with me, he seems somewhat glad for the company, which is an improvement from last summer. I'll be around later this evening if you want to talk,' Theo wrote.
'I might be asleep, but otherwise I'll say hello.' She set aside her quill and wondered what Blaise was taking refuge from. Blaise had never seemed particularly interested in friendships with the other Slytherins, he was much closer friends with some of the Ravenclaw boys. She wondered if Blaise felt he'd been Sorted into the wrong House.
Closing her two-way book, Rachel eased herself down against her pillows, laying down on her side. It still hurt to put a lot of pressure on her back. She closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep. She wanted the escape.
The warm water splashed as she half lowered herself and half fell into the bathtub.
"Are you alright?" Severus called from behind the closed door.
"I'm fine!"
"Let me know if you need help," he called back.
"I will!" She sighed. What she had really wanted was a shower, but she still couldn't quite stand up. A bath was the compromise they'd arrived at and even that had taken a fair amount of pleading and reassurances.
Most of the bandages had come off yesterday when Madam Pomfrey had come by to change them. She said that Healing Salve wasn't going to do anything more for the wounds and that they could try coating the scars in Scar Reduction Serum once the scabs were completely gone.
This was the first opportunity she'd had to really examine her body under the bandages and it was a little bit daunting, even though most of the wounds were now closed.
She had three horizontal marks on the back of her forearms. They were about an inch wide for each mark and were a dark red. She had to twist her neck to see the wounds on her upper arms. There were five on her right arm and four on her left, though the marks weren't as long as the ones on her forearms. Unless the Scar Reduction Serum worked miracles, she didn't think she'd be wearing short sleeved shirts again, at least not without a jumper or a robe to cover her arms.
There were six wounds on her chest and stomach, some shorter than others. She supposed the shorter ones were from when she managed to pull her arms up. Two of the wounds reached her breasts. She gently touched the one on the inside of her right breast. It was tender, but not quite painful when she put a little pressure on it. She wasn't sure she was going to be wearing a bra any time soon though. It was a good thing she wasn't planning on being in a romantic relationship. Eventually whoever she was with would want to see her body, and she didn't think she could do that for a number of reasons.
She couldn't see her back, but she could feel it against the end of the bathtub. She had more wounds there, seven or eight, she thought, and one of them still had a bandage plastered to it. Severus had waterproofed her two remaining bandages before helping her into the bathroom and filling the bathtub for her. She could imagine what her back looked like and it was a little disheartening. This was her body and it had been irrevocably changed.
In the grand scheme of things, a few scars - or a lot of scars - weren't that big of a deal. Her inability to stand and walk, and the way her hands shook so hard that it was difficult to write or cast spells were definitely the bigger issues. And yet it was a little upsetting to see her body. She reminded herself that she generally didn't have to see her body that often, just when she changed her clothes or showered, and even then, she didn't really have to look. And, if she kept herself covered, no one else was going to look either.
Her legs were similar to the rest of her. There were wounds both on her thighs and her calves. Around her left calf was a thick bandage that was about four inches wide. Madam Pomfrey said that one would need to be soaked in murtlap essence to encourage it to heal. At least her school uniform included long stockings. She could wear those any time she wore a skirt. And she could ask Severus for some new pairs of trousers, though she'd probably have to be well enough to go to the shop to try some on for that.
There was a knock on the bathroom door. "Are you doing alright?"
"I'm fine! I'm not going to drown!" she hollered back.
"Alright. I'm nearby if you need me," he said.
Rachel thunked her head against the back of the bathtub in frustration. She was not an invalid. She could take a bath on her own just fine.
After a moment she carefully pushed herself up and began to wash her hair. It was a relief. Madam Pomfrey had been using cleansing charms on her, but she hadn't really washed since the Friday before all of this happened. They had warned her not to wash any of her wounds with soap this time, so she concentrated on her hair. It was long now. She would ask Severus to trim it before she went back to school because she could tell that the back had grown out further than the front. With her curls, it was hard to tell just by looking at her, but she figured it probably needed to be trimmed anyway. She rinsed her hair and then applied conditioner to it, using her fingers to get out any remaining tangles.
It was a little worrying that she was getting tired just from taking a bath. How was she supposed to go to a full day of classes like this? There were six weeks left until school started again, which really wasn't long at all.
She rinsed her hair again and then carefully leveraged herself out of the bathtub and onto the bathmat. She wrapped her hair in one of the towels and then began carefully patting herself dry with the other towel. Severus had warned her not to rub at any of the wounds in case she reopened them. When she was about as dry as she could get herself under the circumstances, she pulled the pale green dress over her head and maneuvered her legs into a pair of underpants. She slumped against the side of the bathtub. It was amazing how much work that had been.
"Severus? I'm done," she called. She didn't think she could get herself back into her bedroom on her own.
The door opened and Severus came in, his sharp eyes assessing the situation before he came to her side. "Did any of your wounds reopen?"
"No, I'm not bleeding anywhere. Can I go to my bed?" she asked.
"Yes, of course. Put your arm over my shoulder if you would," he said, bending down.
Rachel wrapped her arm around his shoulder and let him lift her. It was a little scary how easily he could pick her up and move her. She couldn't remember the last time someone had carried her before this summer, which meant she must have been very young.
Severus set her on her bed. "Do you want your hair plaited?"
"Yes, please, that way it won't get tangled while it's still wet. Do you know how to plait hair?" she asked, moving so that her back was toward Severus and she was supporting her weight with her arms against her thighs.
"I do," he said, removing the towel from her hair.
"Did my mom teach you that?"
"No, I used to plait my mother's hair when she was sick, to keep it out of her face," he said.
She could feel him combing her hair. It was a little strange not to do it herself. "Was she sick often?" she asked, uncertain if she should even ask about Severus' childhood.
"Yes, she was." Severus didn't offer more than that, quiet as he finished combing her hair and then began plaiting it.
Rachel decided to leave it alone. "Can you trim my hair at some point this summer?"
"Yes, of course. It is quite long now. It goes all the way past your mid back while it's wet."
"I've noticed having it long helps weigh down the curls a little. When it was short, my curls stuck out everywhere," she offered, searching for something neutral to say.
"It does seem to have become more manageable as you've gotten older," he agreed. "There. Is it alright if I put a poultice on the wound on your leg? Or did you want to do that in the evening?"
"Can I sleep with it on?"
"Yes, that's fine. It shouldn't cause you additional pain. Your hair is done. I'll go collect what we need for the poultice," he said as he stood.
"Thanks." She pulled her pillow bunny close to her and settled down against her pillows. It felt good to be clean and to have most of the bandages off, even though she could still feel phantom pains in the wounds. She closed her eyes, deciding that Severus could deal with the poultice even if she fell asleep. Sleep came quickly.
Wednesday had been a little more of a rough day. She wanted to be improving every day, but she had noticed that some days she was weaker than others. When she asked Severus, he had told her that was to be expected and that while overall she was on a trajectory of recovery, some days she would feel better and some she would feel worse. Even knowing that it was normal, it still worried her a little. She was clinging to every scrap of independence and normalcy she could get and to have a day where she struggled with moving her legs felt like a setback.
She had put aside Les Miserables for the day. The chapters about the convent and monasteries were a little bit boring and she was easily distracted. She was rereading the third book in the Dark Tower series and found herself imagining joining them on the mysterious quest to the Dark Tower and seeing all the strange things they encountered. She didn't think she'd like the camping or the hunting for food though. There were a lot of conveniences of modern day life that she took for granted, and even more than that, she was beginning to take magic for granted too.
She was still having some trouble with casting spells. Most things she tried were fine, but anything that required a very specific wand movement was beyond the reach of her shaking hands at the moment. She tried to keep her wand close to her regardless. It was a little bit of a miracle that she'd gotten it back and she hadn't realized how attached she was to this specific wand. The idea of getting a new one hadn't sat well with her.
Finishing a chapter, she put her book down and stretched a little. Maybe she'd take a nap. She found that Severus had looked up from his own book and was watching her. "What?" she asked.
"There is something I have been meaning to ask you, but it is a discussion that can wait until another day if you would prefer," he said, meeting her eyes.
That didn't sound good. "What sort of discussion?" she asked warily.
"Albus and I would like to view your memory in his pensieve to determine the current number of Death Eaters and their identities," he said, his tone carefully neutral.
"No." She didn't even have to think about it.
"Rachel-"
"It's private." Though the trouble was that it wasn't private, but she suspected the Death Eaters weren't going to talk about it and she knew Draco wouldn't either.
"We are not asking for the entire memory. We only want to determine the current Death Eater threat," he tried. "I can teach you to copy only a certain portion of a memory if you focus on it."
"No," she said again, as firmly as she could. She took a shaky breath. She was feeling a little dizzy.
Severus was quiet for a long moment. "We haven't spoken of what happened while you were abducted. Rachel, whatever happened, whatever you did or said while being tortured was alright and it's nothing to be ashamed of. I assure you, I have debased myself and begged for my own life on more than one occasion while being held under the Cruciatus curse."
Rachel could feel herself shaking. She didn't want this to be happening. She wanted to run but when she tried to move her feet to the floor her legs resisted.
"I know what happened was traumatic, but you survived and you will get through the aftermath," he continued.
She closed her eyes and curled up into as tight of a ball as she could manage with her uncooperative limbs. She needed this to stop. She couldn't think about this. Her breath was coming in painful gasps and she had that same sensation of being crushed beneath something. "Stop," she got out, the word rough.
"Try to breathe, remember to count your breaths."
Fuck that. "Get away from me." She could tell that he had come closer.
"Rachel-"
"No! Leave me alone!" She heard his footsteps move away a few paces.
With her shaking hands pressed against her head she squeezed her eyes closed even harder and concentrated on putting her mind back in order. She wouldn't think about it. She couldn't. And no one could make her. Feeling even dizzier, she leaned forward until her head found the sofa cushions. She had the strange thought that she must look like a pretzel, all bent double and with her limbs tangled around her. Recognizing that as a somewhat normal thought, she latched on it. She was fine. She could put herself back together and no one would ever know. After all, hadn't she done that for years as a child? No one at school had known what her life at home was like.
Focusing on the idea that she could be normal, at least on the outside, she pushed herself upright and took a few shaky breaths. She was okay. But no one was ever seeing her memory. She opened her eyes and while she was still a little lightheaded and she could feel that she was trembling, she was otherwise alright. As long as that didn't happen again. She turned to where Severus was standing near his armchair, his wand in his hand and his expression worried. "I'm not ready to talk about what happened." She would never be ready, but he didn't need to know that.
"Alright," he said, nodding once. "You seem a little calmer. Do you need anything?"
She wanted to go hide in her room, but she didn't want to be carried and she couldn't get herself up the stairs yet. "Just time to myself."
"I can do that. I'll be in my office, I will hear if you call for me," he said, retrieving his book and then going into the room that served as his office and closing the door behind him.
Rachel sighed and sank against her pillows. She briefly considered putting her headphones on, but right now she thought the music would be more like noise. She wanted it to be quiet.
Her two-way book was sitting on the low table, but she didn't reach for it, or either of the other books she'd been reading.
She wanted out. She wanted out of the house, out of her body, out of the war. It took her a moment to reorganize herself, pulling her pillow bunny to her chest, getting the blanket settled so it covered her feet and her shoulders, and arranging her body so that she was putting pressure on as few wounds as possible. She closed her eyes. Sleep was her only reliable escape.
Severus was tending the bed of dittany without paying much attention to it. The charms he'd put up before they'd left home last summer kept most of the weeds and pests out, so cleaning up the different ingredient beds was not a difficult task. He had half a mind to put up a greenhouse on the back half of the property, but that would be a waste while he was away ten months of the year.
He harbored a secret fantasy. The war over. The Dark Lord dead for good. The Death Eaters dead or imprisoned. Retiring from Hogwarts once a suitable replacement was found, both for Head of Slytherin House and for the Potions classroom. Spending his days researching and brewing. He could make a decent salary brewing potions that were out of reach of even most Potions Masters and then use the rest of his time to invent.
And, of course, Rachel would be safe from harm and would be free to do the things she wished to do. He could imagine her coming home for dinner on Sundays, full of chatter about what she was doing in her Mastery, or about the antics of her Quidditch team. She would be happy and at ease, and she would have healed from the suffering she'd endured.
He craned his neck to see where she was lying. She had begged to be allowed outside and he had immediately acquiesced. He suspected that it would be good for her to be out of the house and it was easy enough to place a blanket and her pillows under one of the trees and carry her outside. He knew that she wished to be flying, but it simply wasn't practical at the moment.
She was slowly getting better physically. He knew that she was moving around on her own based on the way things appeared and disappeared from her shelves and her bedside table, but he also knew she couldn't quite stand yet. He'd witnessed her awkward scuttle across the floor and based on the way she didn't do it in his presence, he assumed she was embarrassed at being reduced to such a method of movement. Reassuring her that he could fetch things for her didn't seem to help, so he cast an alert charm on her bedroom so that he would know if she fell or injured herself and left it alone.
Her mental state, on the other hand, left much to be desired. Despite everything they'd been through, she'd never reacted to him like she had yesterday. He knew that having a distraught teenager yell at their parent and tell them to leave them alone was actually relatively normal. He'd dealt enough with teenagers over the past sixteen years to have had several lash out at him while they were distressed about whatever he was confronting them over. At the same time, it was still surprising to see it from Rachel, and worrying that it had taken so little provocation.
He had been trying to reassure her. He'd been careful not to mention specifics or to ask her to speak about what had happened. He had tried to explain that he had similar experiences and would thus understand. In response, she'd appeared to have some sort of anxiety attack, but it had been different from the other anxiety attacks that he'd seen her have. The abrupt transition from her having an anxiety attack to her appearing mostly calm worried him as well. He knew that she would reject her emotions from time to time, particularly in distressing situations, but he didn't think he'd ever seen her do it in front of him before.
It was something to keep an eye on. One of many things.
Severus would have to tell Albus that Rachel was unwilling to provide the information on the Death Eaters and that he wouldn't press her further and he wouldn't let Albus press her either. He could ask Draco, but he suspected that Draco would also refuse to provide the memory. It was possible that Draco could at least tell them the names of the Death Eaters he recognized as being present, Draco probably knew a fair portion of them, but he was unsure how willing Draco would be to discuss the matter. He would check on Draco tomorrow and see how he seemed. And Rachel would meet with Torey on Sunday, perhaps she could make some headway where he could not.
Finishing with the bed of dittany, Severus renewed the charms and then used his wand to clean his hands. He walked over to the blanket where he had left Rachel and found that she had both fallen asleep and hunched up, her bare calves nearly disappearing under her dress. Suspecting that she was cold, he conjured a blanket and gently placed it over her. Given that her headphones were quiet, he carefully removed those as well so she wouldn't tangle herself in the wire in her sleep.
Her eyes popped open and she flailed beneath the blanket as she audibly gasped for breath.
"Easy, it's just me, you're safe. You're at home in the backyard," he told her.
She pressed one hand to her chest and leaned back against the pillows again. "I didn't mean to fall asleep, I was trying to enjoy being outside."
"You probably needed the rest, we can stay out a little longer," he said as he sat down next to her. "Were you dreaming?"
"No, still no dreams. Do you think they'll ever come back?"
"I don't know. Since we're not sure of the cause, or even if you are dreaming and you just don't realize it, I don't have any theories as to if or when it will change." He had been doing research into this, but nothing in the potions she was taking should suppress dreaming and he hadn't found anything in his research into the after-effects of the Cruciatus curse that suggested lack of dreams as a result of extended Cruciatus exposure.
"I don't really mind not dreaming. I'd be okay if it stayed this way," she said, pulling the blanket closer. "Can you cast a Warming charm on this? It's chilly out here."
It wasn't chilly in the slightest, it was a warm summer day without even a slight breeze. However, in his research into the Cruciatus he had read that difficulty with keeping a stable body temperature could be an after-effect, one that didn't always abate as the person healed. He cast the Warming charm on the blanket. "Do you need anything else? Are you hungry?"
"No."
He frowned. Getting Rachel to eat was a particularly frustrating battle, one that he was not winning. "If I make you one of your drinks, will you drink some of it?"
She sighed. "Give me an hour?"
"Alright. Do you know which one you want?"
"Strawberry," she said, holding her headphones like she was about to put them back on. "Once I can stand, can I try flying?"
"When you can stand without me supporting you. And close to the ground. And slowly," he said, coming up with caveats as he answered.
"To start with. Soon I'll be back to where I was. I'll probably be better at flying than at walking," she said, putting her headphones on and turning on her Walkman before he could comment.
Severus decided not to press, though he suspected that flying would be just as much of a struggle as walking. He got up and headed back to his garden. He could probably tend two more plant beds before he went to make a drink for Rachel.
"You're balancing alright?" Severus asked.
Rachel clung to Severus' side and shoulder as she felt her knees shaking. "More or less, but let's make this quick please."
His grip on her arm tightened and then there was the strange twisting and squeezing sensation that came with apparition. A moment later they were on the top step to the doorway to 12 Grimmauld Place.
She wobbled. "I think I need to sit down."
"Nearly there, can you step inside the door? I have it open now."
Rachel looked down and frowned at her feet. She could step. She knew how to move her legs. Carefully she began to lift her right foot and then her left knee gave out. Severus swooped down in one smooth motion and picked her up. "Thanks," she said, though she really wanted to scream in frustration.
"It will take more practice and more time, I think," he said as they stepped inside the hallway.
"Rachel, there you are," Sirius said, coming out of the kitchen further down the hall.
"Close the door behind us, if you would. I assume the sitting room is fit for habitation?" Severus asked.
"It is, bring her in there and we'll join you shortly," Sirius said, his mouth twisting as he looked at Severus.
Rachel refrained from shaking her head and decided to just be thankful that they were being civil. Last time she'd seen - or heard, rather - them together, they'd been shouting.
Severus brought her into the sitting room. "Where do you want to be?"
"One of the armchairs that has a footstool please," she said. "I really thought I could make it in here. It wasn't that far."
"I know. We'll work on it. Even if you're able to stand, it doesn't seem your legs are ready to walk yet," Severus said as he lowered her into the armchair near the window.
Truthfully, she couldn't even stand that well, even with Severus' support. "I'm a little cold, could you-"
There was a popping noise before she could finish asking for a blanket. Kreacher appeared, his arms full of a quilt, and he began settling it around her. "Here, Miss, nice and warm. Keeps your feet covered as well. Would Miss like tea?" He disappeared again before she could answer.
"Well that was different," Sirius said from the entryway. "What have you done to my House Elf?"
"Treated him like a person," Rachel said, though this certainly wasn't the outcome she'd had in mind.
Kreacher appeared again with a tea tray, which he carefully set on her lap. "What else does Miss need?"
"I'm alright, Kreacher. But thank you. How are you?" she asked, getting a better look at him. He did seem to be doing better than the last time she'd seen him.
"Kreacher is Kreacher, Miss." He looked around the room and then disappeared with another pop.
"Let me check that before you drink it," Remus said.
"I can do it," Severus said, pulling out his wand and pointing it at the tea tray.
"Do you honestly think that Kreacher would try to poison me?" she asked incredulously.
"Wouldn't be the first time he's tried to poison someone," Sirius said.
"It's safe," Severus said, lowering his wand. "Shall I leave you to visit with your godfather?"
"That's fine," she said, figuring the less time Severus stayed in the same room with Sirius and Remus, the better.
"I'd like to speak with Draco. Do you know where I might find him?" Severus asked.
"Typically Draco either spends time in his room to the left of the staircase on the first floor or in the library at the end of the hall on the second floor," Remus said.
"Can you tell him I'm here, if he wants to see me?" Rachel asked.
"I will let him know," Severus said, nodding once before leaving the room.
Remus moved so that he was sitting down on the sofa across from Rachel. "I'm sorry that I haven't been able to see you recently. When I came by the hospital wing you were asleep and I didn't wish to wake you. When I tried again, Severus had already taken you home."
"It's okay. Wasn't much to see, I was asleep most of the time," she said, hoping that they weren't going to have a discussion about this.
Sirius sat down next to Remus. "How are you? We were a little surprised by your return letter to us. If it hadn't been delivered by Gladys, we would have thought it was a fake."
"What? Why?" she asked, puzzled at the notion.
"Your handwriting has changed rather noticeably," Remus said.
"Oh. That's the quill," she said. Her friends had been surprised too the first time she'd written to them in their two-way books. "Severus gave me a steady-charmed quill, otherwise everything I write is just a blur of ink."
"Tremors," Sirius said with a nod. "Are they improving? Are you…Do you feel better than you did the last time I saw you?"
Rachel carefully made sure that her frustration wasn't showing on her face. "I'm much better than I was then. Most of the pain is gone. I'm sleeping less. I'm not covered in bandages now. Hard to tell with the tremors, but I think they're improving. The next step is standing and walking. And flying, of course, I want to be back on my broom."
Remus gave her a smile. "Standing and walking first, I think. You'll want a good core balance before you're on your broom again."
"I'll take it slow. And close to the ground. Severus insisted."
"Good. I'm sure you feel as though your wings have been clipped," Sirius said.
"A little bit," she admitted. "How have things been here?"
Sirius and Remus looked at each other.
"That bad?" she asked. She had kind of been away from war news for a few weeks. "What happened?"
Remus looked back at her. "Not bad, per say. I'm not sure it's appropriate for us to be talking about the war while you're recovering. We want you to focus on your recovery, not on what's happening out here."
That time Rachel did sigh. "I'm not broken."
"We don't think that you're broken," Sirius started.
"I'm not. Everyone is acting like I am fragile and like I need to be coddled like a child. I don't. I am the same person I was three weeks ago," she insisted.
Sirius and Remus glanced at each other again.
"What? Just talk to me, please. Like normal. Pretend that it's just like last summer."
"A lot has changed since last summer," Remus said. "Rachel, it's okay to let your experiences change you. That's part of being human."
She shifted in frustration, nearly unsettling her tea cup. "I'm fine."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "You know, I kept telling myself that after I broke out of Azkaban. On the run from the Dementors? I'm fine. Freezing to death? I'm fine. Eating rats? I'm fine. It didn't actually help anything."
"I am fine. I'm certainly not eating rats," she said petulantly. "You really ate rats?"
"In my dog form. Wasn't so bad, just pretended that they were Pettigrew," Sirius said, though he didn't look amused.
Rachel grimaced. "What if you ate someone when they were small in their animagus form, but they weren't dead yet and they grew back to their normal human size?"
"In that case you'd probably die, though I imagine it wouldn't be a great experience for the animagus either. In general I'd recommend not eating anything that isn't already dead," Remus said.
At this moment, Rachel didn't particularly want to eat anything. "I think I have the animagus meditations pretty well down. I'm going to ask Severus if Professor McGonagall will mentor me for the actual transformation process."
"Well, if she says no, I'm willing to do it, but we should probably postpone until next summer at the earliest," Sirius said.
She nodded. She wasn't even up to the brewing process for the potion needed for the transformation, let alone the transformation itself. "What do you think I'm going to be?"
Both of them looked at her consideringly.
"Well, from the few people we know with both, most of their animagus forms seem to match their Patronus forms," Remus said after a moment.
"I hope not," Rachel said. "Being a doe doesn't sound very advantageous. Besides, have you ever seen Bambi?"
Remus nodded but Sirius shook his head. "Bambi?" Sirius asked
Remus grimaced slightly. "A children's movie, based on a book by the same name, I believe. A hunter kills an orphaned deer's mother and he's raised by the various woodland creatures."
Her aunt had put it on for Dudley when they had been very young. Dudley had gotten bored and had played with his toys rather noisily. Rachel had watched the whole thing through and had been horrified when Bambi's mother had been shot.
"They show that stuff to children?" Sirius asked.
"Have you had much access to television?" Rachel asked, curious how much Sirius knew about the muggle world since learning how little most of her pureblood friends understood about it.
"Not to a television, per say, but I've been to a cinema a couple of times. The first time was with James and Remus in 76 over the summer. We saw The Devil's Men, which was about something called a satanic cult that was kidnapping people. You ever see that one?" Sirius asked.
Rachel shook her head. "I haven't seen all that many movies, actually."
"We saw Star Wars the summer after, Sirius and James were in shock," Remus said, smiling at the memory.
Sirius shook his head. "It was insane, but also kind of magnificent. James and I spent some time trying to figure out how to do a lightsaber effect with our wands."
"While you should have been studying for your NEWTs," Remus said, though he was still smiling.
Rachel grinned. "Did you ever make it work?" Star Wars had been one of the movies that Dudley had the patience to sit through, so Rachel had actually seen those.
"Nah, best we could do was change the color of the light from the Wand Lighting charm," Sirius said, though he still looked fond.
"What music did my dad like? What books did he read?" she pressed.
"The Sex Pistols, James was big on the Sex Pistols," Sirius said. "The Bee Gees, you'd probably like them. Who else, Remus?"
"Cat Stevens and Elton John were pretty big in the common room, you and James liked those," Remus said.
"Wait, I need to write these down. I need to find cassettes. Do you know which albums?" she asked, wishing she had a quill and parchment.
"We'll find them for you, don't worry about it. There's a record shop nearby and I think they sell cassettes," Remus said.
"We've got this," Sirius said as he nodded.
Rachel smiled. "Thank you. Severus gave me some cassettes that were albums he listened to with my mom. Oh, could you mark down my dad's favorite songs on them, so I know?"
"We can do that," Sirius said. "That was kind of Snape to do that for you. He and Lily were close for most of our time at Hogwarts together."
Rachel hesitated. She wanted to know what happened, but last year Sirius had said for her to ask Severus. She hadn't, because she hadn't wanted to bring up painful memories for Severus. "You really can't tell me what happened between them? I don't want to hurt Severus by asking him."
Sirius and Remus looked at each other again and then Remus looked back. "I really think he's the one that needs to tell you. He can best frame it for you and tell you his experience. We only really saw the fallout."
"Is it that bad?" she pressed.
"It wasn't a good situation, not for any of us. And it doesn't paint us in a good light either, nor James," Sirius said. He sighed heavily. "You have to know that there are some things that all of us did in those days that we aren't exactly proud of. We had our reasons. The war in the magical world was being echoed and amplified inside Hogwarts, and we were on the opposite side of it from Snape. People were hurt, on both sides."
Rachel frowned. "Is this just something that I shouldn't ask Severus about? I don't want to hurt him. I just want to understand better."
"I think that's a decision that you're going to have to make, Rachel. I don't doubt that it will be painful for Severus to talk about it, but it's understandable that you'd want to know about the situation between your mother and your guardian," Remus said.
Maybe she wouldn't ask then. She cared about Severus and she cared about her mom. And she cared about Sirius and Remus and her dad too. Maybe there was no point in dragging out painful things. She wouldn't like it if someone did it to her. "Alright."
"Well that got grim quickly and we weren't even talking about the war," Sirius said, shaking his head.
"What is happening with the war?" she asked, sensing that she had the advantage now.
"The Ministry is dragging its feet and bickering about what needs to be done. Scrimgeour and Bones are saying we need to start with investigating people who were cleared of being Death Eaters in the last war and Fudge is blocking them. Wizengamot meetings are hell right now because no one will shut up and no one will agree on anything. I've been in three meetings in three weeks and it's the same garbage as when we started," Sirius said.
Rachel bit her lip, trying to contain her worry. "If they reinvestigate people who were cleared of being Death Eaters, will they come for Severus?"
"No. They understand that Severus was a spy. Albus made Severus' case fifteen years ago and there is no reason for them to reinvestigate Severus," Remus said quickly.
She exhaled. That was good at least. "What else? Have the Death Eaters been attacking people? Are muggleborns being evacuated yet?"
"We're not quite at that stage yet," Remus said. "Right now we're warning people, spreading the word that people should be prepared to flee if necessary."
"The only two known attacks have been on family members of Wizengamot members who have been standing with Dumbledore, and their wards have held long enough for the aurors to arrive. The Death Eaters haven't been engaging when that happens, they've just been apparating away," Sirius said.
"Why?" she asked.
"These are test attacks. They're seeing how people are calling for help, what the Ministry's response time is, who shows up, how many, that sort of thing. They want to know what they're up against before they commit people," Remus explained.
That seemed reasonable, but it was also unexpected, at least to her. "Did they do this in the first war?"
"No, they didn't need to. They'd been attacking muggleborns with impunity for years by that point. When they started attacking purebloods and half-bloods, that's when people started to care. By that point they were escalating faster than we were and faster than the Ministry was. They didn't need to worry about response teams showing up because we didn't start managing to do that until about 77," Remus continued. "It's a whole different playing field now and they know it. You-Know-Who doesn't have spare people to lose yet, so he's being cautious. I expect most of what we'll see for the next little while are blitz attacks on unexpected targets. He knows we can't guard everyone."
"But we are trying. People know to call the MLE if something seems wrong. The MLE patrol has already increased their on-call roster. The entire MLE is recruiting. We're encouraging people to take safety measures and to put additional wards on their homes and to have an emergency supply of floo powder if they need it, better to lose their home than their lives," Sirius added.
Rachel nodded absently as she realized what about this war was different than what she was expecting, not that she really knew all that much about war to begin with. But there was no front line. There was no way to take or hold land or borders. There were only about six dozen people or so on each side who could be considered soldiers. But the soldiers weren't fighting each other. The Death Eaters were attacking civilians, and the Order and the Ministry were trying to protect the civilians. It was very easy to see how the first war had wound up with so many people dead.
"How much of the Wizengamot actually supports the Dark Lord?" she finally asked.
"Hard to say," Sirius said. "We know three of them are Death Eaters, down from four now that Lucius Malfoy can't show his face. Unfortunately, it's not as simple as either for You-Know-Who or against him, not for most people. There are people who agree with his politics and his objectives, but don't agree with attacking people to get there, and even then, there are variations with how much they don't agree. There are people who just don't want a war, regardless of who winds up in control. And there are people who want to negotiate and are willing to give up various rights for muggleborns and rollbacks on restrictions about what can be done with muggles in order to do it."
"And then there are the people who are firmly with Albus, and who believe in muggleborn rights and that muggles are people who deserve not to be interfered with. There are currently twenty three of them on the Wizengamot, including Albus and Sirius," Remus said. "And more people, who were against Albus, but primarily because they were in Fudge's pocket, have started voting with Albus now. They know Fudge is on his way out."
"Why haven't the Death Eaters killed Minister Fudge?" she asked. She had half expected it to happen by now.
"Biding their time, waiting for the moment when it gives them the most power and control," Sirius answered.
It was a simple, if a little bit frightening, answer. She saw movement by the door and looked up. "Draco?"
Draco peered inside. "I can wait, if you're speaking with Rachel."
"No, come in, please," Rachel said.
"Shall we leave you two to talk while we arrange lunch?" Remus asked.
"That would be nice, thank you," she said.
Sirius glanced suspiciously at Draco, but then looked back at Rachel. "What do you want for lunch?"
"I don't think I really want lunch, actually, but you can eat," she said quickly.
"You need to eat something. How about fish and chips? Or the Indian take away place?" Sirius asked.
"Nothing spicy." She was pretty sure she could not even face chicken tikka masala at the moment, even if it was her favorite Indian dish.
"Fish and chips then, we'll just pop out," Sirius said, standing and making his way around the sofa. "Behave yourselves," he said primarily to Draco.
"We will," Draco answered.
"We'll be back soon," Remus said, following Sirius out of the room.
Rachel looked at Draco. "Come sit down."
Draco walked over to the sofa and sat. "Professor Snape said you wanted to speak to me?"
"Just to say hi. Nothing important," she said. "How are things here?
"Fine. A bit boring. They don't have a Quidditch pitch," Draco said, as though that were his biggest complaint about the summer.
"If it makes you feel any better, I can't fly either," she said.
"No, that doesn't really make me feel any better," he said dryly. "You look better than the last time I saw you, but why are you wearing your Hogwarts robes?"
"Only robes I have and I'm not quite up to pulling on a jumper just yet."
Draco stared at her. "Those are your only robes? Why? I didn't think Professor Snape was poor. You're not poor."
Rachel sighed. "It's not about being poor. I don't need other robes yet because the only time I wear robes is at Hogwarts."
"You realize that you're supposed to wear robes, right?" he asked.
"Professor Snape doesn't wear robes unless he's at Hogwarts or he's going to a meeting. Why should I?"
"Because it's proper."
"You care about being proper?" she asked skeptically.
"It matters in some things, you wouldn't put your feet up on someone's table, would you?" he asked.
"No, but that's not the same thing at all."
"It is. It's exactly the same thing," he insisted. "Sirius and Remus wear robes."
"They're probably used to it. I'd never even seen a robe outside of a bathrobe until Hagrid took me shopping in Diagon Alley. Speaking of Sirius and Remus, how are things going with them? Do you get along alright?" she asked, not wanting to fight about robes forever.
"They are not what I was expecting," Draco said diplomatically.
"Okay, what were you expecting?" she asked, figuring that was the easier question.
"He's the head of the Black family and a Wizengamot member. I was expecting someone…more like my father, I suppose. Strict. Direct. Not someone who turns up the Wizarding Wireless and brings home muggle take away because he doesn't have his House Elf cook."
That did sound like Sirius. "You're getting along alright?" she pressed.
"I suppose." Draco sighed. "Neither of us really knows what we're doing. I don't want another parent and he certainly doesn't want to be a parent."
"He doesn't have to be your parent. He can just be your kind of weird cousin and you happen to live at his house," she pointed out. "Just talk to him a bit. Find out what his interests are. Talk to him about Quidditch and the Quidditch team, he'll love that."
Draco nodded. "My father wasn't all that interested in Quidditch."
"Well Sirius is. Tell him about the games we played last year, or about our upcoming team and training strategy," she said, wanting to do anything that would make this easier for Draco. After all, it was kind of her fault that he was here.
"I assume you don't want me to tell him you nearly killed yourself when we played Ravenclaw," he said, arching his right eyebrow.
"I didn't nearly kill myself," she protested.
"You did. You didn't see it, Rachel. You were going full speed into the stands, you swerved at the last second, you lost control of your broom-"
"Yeah, yeah, I remember. And no, maybe don't tell Sirius that. Just say I made a last second catch and leave it at that," she said. "And that wasn't entirely my fault, I had a massive headache."
"Just don't do it again. I think Professor Snape will pull you from the team if you do," he said, finally settling in on the sofa instead of sitting stiffly.
"I'm not going to do it again, it was an accident," she insisted. She blinked as she realized that she was starting to feel tired. She really didn't want to go to sleep here. She looked around for somewhere to put the tea tray because she didn't either want to spill it or have it fall from her lap.
There was a popping noise and Kreacher appeared again. "Kreacher will take Miss's tea if she's done with it. What else Miss be needing?"
"Nothing, I'm alright. Are you alright, Kreacher? Are they treating you well? Did they give you my letter back to you?" she asked.
"Kreacher has Miss's letter. Kreacher eats and Kreacher has his room with Mistress's things." Kreacher popped away again with the tea tray.
"That is one weird elf," Draco commented.
"He's had a hard life," she protested.
"Haven't we all. He doesn't act like that around the rest of us," he said.
"Maybe if everyone treated him more kindly he'd speak with them too."
Draco rolled his eyes. "You're not supposed to treat House Elves like people, you're supposed to treat them like House Elves. We, I mean, my father has a weird elf too. We had to banish him from serving at dinners and parties."
"They're sentient, just like us," she insisted.
"So what? Centaurs and merpeople are sentient, you don't see me making friends with them either."
Rachel sighed. This was definitely a losing battle. "What have you been doing while you're here?"
"Reading, mostly. At least Sirius has an interesting library. They send me upstairs for Order meetings, but I at least see the people come in. There's more than I was expecting. And plenty of times people from the Order just come by randomly. Otherwise, not much. I can't go anywhere," he said, sounding slightly petulant.
"You could volunteer to help with the attic," she suggested.
"I'm not sure they'd want me doing that."
"Why not?" she asked.
Draco shrugged but didn't answer.
"If you're bored, you might as well ask. At least it's something to do." She wished she was well enough to help with the attic. Or to brew potions. Or to do anything, really.
"Maybe. You look like you're about to fall asleep. Are you alright?" he asked.
"That happens sometimes. I've mostly stopped doing that, but usually I've had a nap by now," she said, sliding down slightly in the chair so that she wouldn't fall over if she did fall asleep.
"Is it…is it brain damage?" He sounded worried now.
"No, I don't think so. I don't think brain damage works like that. I just get tired easily and I'm still healing. That's all." She yawned, unable to stop herself.
"Do you want me to find Professor Snape?" he asked.
"No, it's fine. I'm just going to close my eyes for a minute. I'm sure I'll wake up when Sirius and Remus get back." It was a little frustrating. She'd been doing better at choosing when she went to sleep, but she'd been awake all morning. She let her eyes close, wondering if maybe she just rested for a moment, then she wouldn't go fully to sleep. Darkness came quickly.
Severus looked the house over with a critical eye. He hadn't seen much of the original state of the house beyond the ground floor and the cellar, but from those, he could imagine that it had been just as filthy as what he'd seen. He could grudgingly admit that they'd done a reasonable job of cleaning up and it was probably not a terrible place for Draco to live, company excepted of course.
He knocked on the door that was supposed to be Draco's and waited. After about two minutes he knocked again. "Draco, it's Professor Snape. I'd like to speak with you for a moment," he called. When there was no answer beyond that, he opened the door and peered inside. It was the usual disarray of a teenager's bedroom - thankfully Rachel seemed to prefer her room to be neat - but it was clear from the contents that it was Draco's room and he was not currently in residence. He closed the door and started up the stairs again.
Imagining what might be contained in the Black family library, Severus entered the large room on the second floor and found it packed with shelves and books. The space had definitely been expanded, given its location in the house. "Draco?"
"Professor Snape?" Draco called, somewhere deeper in the library.
Severus began to walk and found himself in a reading area that had tables and chairs and several armchairs as well. Draco had flipped whatever he'd been reading closed and the book was face down to obscure the title. "Not your summer homework, I presume?"
"I don't even know what classes I got into yet, I'm waiting until I get my OWL results before I start the summer homework," Draco said, standing up.
"Prudent, as ever. How are you settling in?" he prompted.
"Fine." Draco folded his arms and looked away.
Severus was thoroughly sick of children telling him they were fine. "Are Black and Lupin treating you well?"
"Yes, they've been…friendly, I guess. It's just weird. And I don't exactly like being kept as a prisoner."
"As a prisoner?" he repeated.
"Whatever you want to call it, I'm stuck in this house. I can't go out. I can't see anyone. I can't fly or play Quidditch or even go see a Quidditch game. All I can do is read or sit." Draco scowled. "At least I'm not spending the summer being instructed by tutors. That's a nice change I suppose."
"If you would like to use the brewing station in the cellar, I'm sure that can be arranged. Have you tried speaking with Black to see if there are other things you can avail yourself of, or if he might accompany you on a trip into muggle London?" Severus suggested.
Draco shrugged. "Why would I want to go into muggle London?"
"Presumably for something to do that isn't being trapped in this house. Was there someone in particular who you wanted to see?"
"Pansy. But that's not really a possibility, is it?" he glanced at Severus, only needing to lift his head a little to meet Severus' gaze.
"I'm afraid it's not. I suspect that Pansy's parents will tell her that she's not allowed to associate with you while you're both at Hogwarts," Severus said, aiming to be gentle.
"We can work around that," Draco said dismissively.
Severus decided to leave well enough alone. He would speak with Pansy once they were back at school and make sure she was aware of the possible consequences of her decisions. "Have you given any thought to the matter we discussed at the end of the term?"
"I don't need to see a Mind Healer. I just needed some time. And I have plenty of that here," he said, his tone firm.
"Madam Pomfrey is still seeing to your wound?" he asked.
"No, she said I was done with the bandages and the Healing Salve and that we could try a Scar Reduction Serum when I returned to Hogwarts." Draco looked away, seeming embarrassed by that for some reason.
"There is something I would like to ask of you," Severus began, hoping this conversation went better with Draco than it had with Rachel.
"My father didn't tell me much of anything. I don't know secret codes or places where they meet or any of that," Draco said.
Severus nodded. He hadn't expected that Draco would know that sort of thing. "We would like to identify the Death Eaters who were present that night. Would you be willing to let myself and Professor Dumbledore see a portion of your memory from where you were with the Death Eaters? Or, alternatively, would you be willing to provide a list of the Death Eaters whose names you know who were present?"
"I don't want anyone to see my memories," he said immediately.
Severus wondered again what it was that Rachel and Draco were keeping from him. He couldn't tell if it was just trauma and humiliation from what they'd experienced, or if something else had happened that they were trying to hide. "What about names, then? Did you recognize some of the Death Eaters who were there?"
Draco turned so he was looking out the window and facing away from Severus. "I knew a lot of them. Not all of them, there were some new faces. But, I don't…I don't want to be involved in testimony for a trial. I don't want it to be my word that they were there against theirs. I don't want to be questioned with Veritaserum like Rachel was."
"That will not happen," Severus said quickly. "Rachel volunteered to take Veritaserum under a carefully controlled circumstance and I allowed it with my supervision because it was the best way we had to quickly and securely get rid of Umbridge. This list won't be given to the MLE as evidence of any kind. The Order will use it to continue their surveillance of known Death Eaters."
"Can you make it so that no one knows the list is from me?" Draco asked, straightening his shoulders.
"I will have to tell Professor Dumbledore where the information comes from, but otherwise the rest of the Order doesn't need to know," he said, thinking that would help protect Draco if anyone from the Order was captured and interrogated.
Draco turned so he was looking at Severus again. "I need some time, but I'll put the list together. Some of them I only know last names for."
"That's fine. Thank you. Just send an owl indicating that what I asked for is ready, using that phrasing, and I will come by sometime after that to pick it up. Do you have everything you need here?"
"Other than a Quidditch pitch, I guess." Draco looked genuinely frustrated by that.
"Rachel is currently visiting in the sitting room downstairs. She would like to see you, if you are willing," he said, wishing to give Draco a choice.
It took him a moment, but Draco finally nodded. "I'll say hello to her for a few minutes. I'm pretty much done here for now anyway." He picked up the book he'd been reading, keeping the title hidden against his chest. "I assume you'll come by again at some point?"
"I will," Severus said, though he had already assured Draco he would be back for the list. "And if you encounter trouble, simply send me an owl saying that you need to speak with me and I will come."
Draco nodded again and walked away.
Severus frowned as he looked around the library. He wondered how much in here was about the Dark Arts and if he needed to have a talk to Black about what he was exposing Draco to. As he thought about it, he decided he would probably have better luck - and less shouting - if he simply confronted Draco directly about what he was studying. That could wait until next time.
For now, he would check the Order's potion cupboards and see what they needed and then he would step out for a moment to pick up more murtlap from the apothecary, assuming Rachel did not wish to leave immediately. Considering that she seemed to like spending time with Black and Lupin, he thought she would be willing to remain for another thirty minutes.
