Sorry for the delay! Busy with doctor's appointments!
I can't believe it's been over a year now, crazy! Thanks so much, everyone who has reviewed, favourited, followed, even just viewed up until now :)
Thanks also to gowolf for adding this story onto a community!
As usual, I love all reviews, so thank you Blue Luver5000, Senyuu, creelluka, clove1113, RedPrimrose (a while, you'll see), BlueOcean24124437, lizy2000 and Cae-Leigh Anne for making my week!
One last thing, what do you guys think of their wands? Should they be changed, or do you like them the way they are?
'Is there something going on between you and Regulus?' Rabastan asked at the next Potions class.
They were stuck together as partners until the end of term now. Emma didn't mind too much. She needed to wrap her head around the whole Regulus thing, and she didn't think she'd ever not feel uncomfortable around Alecto. Besides, it wasn't so bad. Rabastan reminded her of a Slytherin version of James – less reckless, but still a jokester – and he wasn't half-bad at Potions. Well, he knew how to follow the recipe, and that was all they really needed at the moment. It wasn't a by-heart situation yet.
Emma didn't even take the time to look up as she replied, concentrating on attacking the Sopophorus beans, nearly mashing them in her haste to squeeze out the juices. If they managed to make a near-perfect potion this time, it would leave them the better part of two months to redouble their efforts on separating the older students into categories.
By the time January rolled around, the Dark Lord would have written off any seventh-years as no longer impressionable. Besides, with the support of the werewolves, the giants and some goblins, he barely needed people anymore. He certainly wasn't recruiting too many Death Eaters, now, with the exception of Barty Crouch Jr, who was turning seventeen next year.
'No, what do you mean?' she asked, playing it cool.
'Well usually you've got your little conspiracy circle going on,' Rabastan continued, scraping the juice into an empty container.
The water would need to boil before they started on the elixir. Ordinarily, every step should be done right before adding the ingredients, but Rabastan and Emma were cheating a little, casting spells on the juice so as to keep it fresh for the cauldron.
'I don't know what you're talking about,' Emma said. 'You of all people should know that Regulus isn't much of a talker.'
'Aha, but you are,' Rabastan lifted his finger with an air of triumph. 'And you're oddly silent. Did something happen? Why are you acting so strange around him? Is it...'
Emma skinned the Shrivelfig, hoping that Rabastan hadn't noticed what it was. Logically, she knew that there would be no reason for him to guess her... well, she refused to call it a crush. The snide little voice that wouldn't shut up told her that her feelings were trying to latch on to Regulus because it had been the first time that she... well.
The point was, if anyone was to guess at what she was feeling, it would be Lucinda. She was uncannily good at recognising the signs of impending gossip. Or Regulus himself, with his legendary insight. Which proved to be yet another reason for avoiding him.
'It's about Orion, isn't it?' Rabastan asked in a low whisper. He slammed a palm on the counter, scattering their porcupine quills. 'I knew that there was something fishy about the Vanishing Sickness! Kreacher keeps that house as spotless as a Thestral's backside!'
'As spotless as...' Emma was rendered speechless from laughter.
Rabastan twisted his face into a pout, before he too began to laugh.
'What?' he asked, shaking the quills into the potion. 'You know, because a Thestral is invisible, so you couldn't see the spots... And even if you can see them, they're black, so -'
'Oh, stop trying to justify yourself,' Emma snorted. 'Thestral's backside...'
'Shut up,' Rabastan said sulkily. 'Besides, that wasn't the point. There are more important things than my use of common wizarding expressions. Was Orion... killed by the Order?'
He asked this question in a hushed whisper, one that Emma wouldn't even have heard had their heads not been pressed together behind the cauldron in order to hide their laughter. Slughorn was a lenient teacher, but he took pride in his classroom. If he thought the two Slytherins had performed the Cheering Charm ahead of schedule, they'd have him breathing down their backs all lesson.
The smile was wiped from Emma's face. She straightened up, sombrely observing their mixture. Once the purple turned to blue, the liquid needed to be stirred. Last session, Rabastan had accidentally stirred five times instead of four, causing their potion to take on a deep orange colour instead of the described sunshine-yellow.
'No,' she whispered quietly, so quietly that Rabastan had to bend down to hear.
He waited for more, but Emma was too busy looking over at Regulus. He was working with Helena, the Ravenclaw prefect, since Alecto had partnered with Sophie Parkinson and Severus had asked to work alone, as there were fifteen students in the class. Slughorn wasn't going to object to one of his most efficient students, though he didn't adore Severus the way he loved Lily Evans.
Was Emma so selfish as to forget the very reason why they had gotten so... attached Saturday night? Regulus was coping with the loss of a parent, and whereas he had been for there with her mother, she was avoiding him like the plague. But did he miss his father, who had obviously preferred Sirius to his dying breath? Had he come to terms with Orion's fate the way Emma had filed Charles's death in her mind along with other unpleasant memories, or was he bottling it all up in a true Regulus fashion? Suddenly, she felt guilty, but because she might have abandoned her friend in his time of need.
He looked up, sensing her gaze. Did he seem upset? Were his eyelids a little droopier than usual, his shoulders hunched as though part of the hope in him had died? Rabastan followed her line of sight, tilting his head in reflection at this new situation.
Suddenly, Regulus's eyes widened, his mouth opening as if to shout a warning, but it was too late.
Emma had stirred the potion to the point of explosion.
That weekend was – for some reason – a Hogsmeade weekend. Maybe the staff thought the students would be too worn out by the Halloween feast last weekend to venture out. In any case, Emma was glad to get out and breathe the fresh air without homework niggling at the back of her mind. She had spent too much time inside the school grounds; it was starting to feel stifling.
More out of habit than by choice, the five of them had kept up the same meandering pace together. Helen and Sophie had tried to convince Lucinda to join them shopping – Slughorn had spread the rumour of an "exclusive" winter party coming in December, and the girls liked to be prepared.
But Lucinda, who had discovered somehow that she had a knack for transfiguring clothing, had refused, intent on getting her parents to send her some quality silk so that she could make her own dresses. For once, she insisted that they visit the bookshop once they reached Hogsmeade, so she could get some ideas for her designs.
True to her Slytherin nature, she was discussing prices with Rabastan, who was helping her by explaining how his father priced the houses he sold. The two of them seemed to be enjoying themselves, creating more and more elaborate ideas on how Lucinda might create a business to rival Madam Malkin's, though Lucinda found adjusting school robes boring.
She had gone off the idea of going into the family business when the whole business with Mr McKinnon went on, even more so when her father started hinting that he might sell his shares in order to help finance the Dark Lord's cause. Of course, Evan was overjoyed, off enjoying the finest dragon hide jackets money could by as he pretended that dragon hide could ward off certain spells.
Alecto was drifting off slightly to the side, lost in her own world. Emma wondered if she even remembered William, the Muggle she had fallen in love with in her fifth year, before he had turned out to be a wizard-hater.
Why are you even thinking about this? She asked herself. He's not worth a second of your thoughts.
As if he had read her mind, Regulus reduced the distance between them. The troubled expression on his face prevented her mind from straying anywhere else.
'Do you ever think...' he started, before trailing off. He lowered his voice so much that Emma had trouble hearing him past the light autumn breeze. 'Do you ever think that we might have made a mistake? About Muggles?'
'Of course not!' Emma snapped automatically, though she had been wondering the same thing. She relented. 'I don't think the Dark Lord would make that big of a mistake. Sure, they might look like us, but on the inside they're completely different. They're not evolved enough to accept that wizards could actually help them lead easier lives. They'll understand once this war is over.'
'But they don't even know there is a war,' Regulus protested.
'That's because of the Ministry of Magic,' Emma started to argue, before realising that it sounded like the person needing convincing was herself.
'What about the Mudblo- Muggleborns?' Regulus asked. 'You can see for yourself just how talented Lily Evans is.'
'She's one of a kind,' Emma replied, something she had often repeated to herself.
'Helen's also a Muggleborn,' Regulus pointed out.
'Helen?' Emma asked, frowning.
'You know, the Ravenclaw prefect,' Regulus reminded her. 'She's also taking at least five N.E.W.T.s and wants to become a Healer.'
'We can't have got it wrong,' Emma said, and this time her voice really did sound unsure. 'Not after everything that has happened.'
The closed look on her face stopped Regulus from continuing, though his features settled into a slight frown for the rest of the journey to Hogsmeade. Emma found herself worrying about him. Could Orion's death have shaken his beliefs? They had been so secure, so cemented in a fact merely a year ago. The truth was that if even Regulus was doubting their cause, how could Emma have faith in it?
Her mind shied away from the train of thought. Too much at stake for that one, a frantic voice seemed to say, pushing all of the relevant memories into a box and bringing out the ones that reassured her in her beliefs.
Muggles attacked wizards when they found out they had powers that Muggles could only dream of.
Muggles feared and hated wizards who tried to help them, the way they had during the Witch trials.
Muggles couldn't defend themselves against more dangerous magical beings, and only the Statute of Secrecy was preventing them from being killed off by Dementors.
Wizards had sacrificed themselves in order to save the Muggle population from deadly curses and attacks, saving them from going mad when they saw something that was too overwhelming.
It would be better under the Dark Lord's leadership.
So why was Emma having trouble believing?
Her troubling thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a dark haired heavyset man, his muscles evident even through his robes. He was leaning casually against the wall of the Three Broomsticks, twirling his wand dexterously in his left hand. His permanent cocky grin and green eyes were the only thing he had in common with his younger brother, though Rabastan's danced with barely hidden mischief, whereas this man's had a calmer, almost duller look to him.
What is Rodolphus Lestrange doing in Hogsmeade?
She barely had time to turn her head in Rabastan's direction, before the older Death Eater stopped playing with his wand. Giving them a short nod, he briskly walked towards them, pulling his hood over his head. Personally, Emma thought it made him look conspicuous, though the wind was chilly enough for the action not to be out of place.
'Quickly, I wasn't sure if you'd be out this week,' Rodolphus told them, wasting not a single word to say hello.
With a look to Lucinda, who ushered them away, the four of them hurried to keep pace with Rabastan's brother. Somehow, he managed to look both more beefy than during his school years, and more gaunt. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his skin was pale under the tan. Once he was satisfied he had got them moving, he broke into a broad grin.
Emma wasn't sure it became him.
'Salazar am I glad you decided to come,' he said, clapping Rabastan on the back. 'Bella was breathing down my neck for potentially missing a meeting, but I had to see if you'd be in Hogsmeade. Avery's going to be gutted; he was hoping Snape would get the task.'
'What task?' Rabastan asked curiously. 'Why didn't you just owl us?'
'Bones has all of the school owls watched. Dumbledore's increased security, though you wouldn't be able to tell from the inside. He knows the Dark Lord wants to get into Hogwarts,' Rodolphus explained shortly, lengthening his strides so that Alecto was puffing slightly from the effort.
'Why does he want to get into Hogwarts?' Emma asked, her curiosity also piqued.
'You'll see, little snake,' Rodolphus replied, showing her his teeth.
Emma noticed that one at the back had been knocked out, probably by some Dark curse if it hadn't been regrown by Narcissa. They hurried across Hogsmeade, criss-crossing the streets until Rodolphus was satisfied that he would have spotted their tail if they had one. After that, it was a short, direct route to what looked like an old wine cellar.
It was behind a small shed, the steps down slippery with frost. The metal grating ground open with a shudder, almost coming loose in Rodolphus's meaty hands. Reevaluating the sight before her, Emma wondered if the older Lestrange was going to lead them into the sewers of Hogsmeade. It certainly smelt like it.
Fortunately, they didn't end up in the sewers. That didn't stop Emma from lifting her robes slightly in order to step around certain puddles. She didn't mind a bit of mud, but the layers of ooze on the floor seemed like they had been formed from more than dirt and water. She caught Rabastan muttering an Impervius Charm a few seconds later, reinforcing her belief.
Her eyes dropped to Rodolphus's robes – they seemed slightly singed at the bottom, though his dragonhide boots didn't seem much worse for the wear. She wondered if they were magical, and if so, how long magic lasted in clothing before it wore out.
Concentrate on the matter at hand, Emma, she chided herself as the hallway opened up into a larger area.
The roof sloped downwards, forcing the two brothers to duck before they could straighten up again. It was a far cry from the Dark Lord's usual haunt, but then again, the Dark Lord had changed too. Emma remembered him as having pale, nearly translucent skin. Now, he looked as though he belonged in a wax museum, his face as if he had been drained of his blood, his features unnervingly still.
The same aura of power washed over her, but instead of her usual nervous behaviour, Emma felt more relaxed than she had in a while. It was the feeling she would get when she was young, when her parents always knew what was best and her worries were quickly smothered with the sense that here was a person much wiser than her, ready to make everything better again.
She was so caught up in her contemplation of the Dark Lord that she hadn't noticed the snake draped across his shoulders, seemingly asleep. As if noticing her gaze, the green reptile rose up hissing, twisting its head in several directions. It must have been longer than the Dark Lord was tall, as Emma glimpsed the hint of a tail near the bottom of the Dark Lord's cloak. A forked tongue shot out to taste the air, as though the wind would tell it which of these newcomers was likely to pose the biggest threat to its master.
'Nagini.'
The one word of warning was enough to settle the creature. Emma supposed that it was the snake's name.
'My dear young friends,' the Dark Lord's voice was as soft as ever. The final "s" lingered in the air, tasting it the way his familiar did with her tongue. 'I find myself having to call upon your efforts once more.'
He paused, letting them drink up the praise of being needed by the most powerful wizard in the world. Bellatrix, never far from her master, was almost panting in anticipation, though surely she must have known of the Dark Lord's plan in advance. Lucius, Emma noted, was nowhere to be found. Maybe this is simply a quick stop on the way to a more important destination, she thought.
Other than the Lestrange couple, only one person was present – one that Emma recognised from her trip to the werewolf packs. His yellowed fingernails, caked with dried blood, sent a shiver up her spine that was hard to repress. As though sensing her discomfort, the man bared his sharply filed teeth at her in a mockery of a smile. A muffled whimper from behind her told Emma that Alecto hadn't missed the display.
'I have been informed of the swell in the ranks of this... order... Dumbledore has attempted to gather together,' Voldemort's mouth twisted the words out, as though it physically repulsed him to speak them. 'It seems that he has noticed the swell in our most hallowed ranks and has taken it upon himself to recruit unsuspecting students to his cause.'
Another pause allowed the information to sink in.
'Well, this perversion of young pure-blood minds just won't do, will it? Already, poor young Sirius Black has fallen victim to the old man's charms -'
Bellatrix made an animalistic noise that was hushed by the raise of a slender palm. Regulus remained stoic, unaffected.
'But that doesn't mean that others are too far gone. You, my enlightened disciples, must bring your fellow students back to the right side of this war. Inform those purebloods that will not fight for our cause to get out of our way. Only dirty blood need be spilled from now on. However, if needs be...'
Emma realised that James would be on the hit list. Her mind raced, trying to think of a way to protect him from the wrath brought upon Orion Black. Quickly, she squashed any plan. Now was not the time for dangerous thoughts. Unfortunately, her face must have betrayed the inner turmoil, because as Rodolphus led her fellow seventh years back out of the door, an arm was thrust out to prevent her from leaving.
She looked up to see Bellatrix grinning down at her, the madness fully unleashed. Realising that resistance would be construed as betrayal; Emma turned back, a familiar feeling of dread washing over her. This time though, it wasn't within the presence of Amelia Bones.
'Emma Potter,' the Dark Lord stated, as if calling her up to be Sorted.
Emma felt rather like an eleven-year-old again, pretending to be brave whilst knowing that she was not. She made sure her hands were folded within her velvety cloak, the one given to her by this very man. She was acutely aware of the black tattoo seared into her left forearm, the snake writhing back and forth. It was oddly comforting, giving her something to concentrate on so as to avoid the oncoming Legilimency.
'Once again, you have exceeded my expectations.'
Emma jerked her head up sharply, wondering if she had heard him wrong.
'Bellatrix informed me of the sudden demise of Charles Potter. I have no doubt that you were an instrument in the purging of your family tree,' the Dark Lord's voice grew introspective. 'I, also, have had the misfortune of inadequate blood relatives.'
His lip curled in distaste, though Emma knew this time that it was not at her. She wondered what he was remembering, then tentatively tried to imagine what "inadequate" encompassed in the Dark Lord's vocabulary. No wonder he had no living blood relatives to speak of.
'Indeed,' the Dark Lord said in reply to her thoughts.
Emma tried not to show her surprise.
'Keep an eye on your fellow Death Eaters,' he said, red eyes boring into blue. 'I trust that you will keep them in line.'
Emma realised that she had just – in a way – been promoted. The Dark Lord trusted her enough to make sure the others wouldn't waver. If only he knew, she thought wryly, before remembering that she had dropped her Occlumency walls around all but certain memories. It wouldn't do to have the Dark Lord think she was hiding something from him.
'If only I knew what, my dear?'
The chilly tone sent warning signals across Emma's brain. Hastily, she stammered out the thing that had been occupying her thoughts for months.
'Lily Evans is a Mudblood,' she said without thinking. 'But she's talented, possibly the best witch in Hogwarts. James...'
'Ah,' the Dark Lord said in understanding. 'I see why you might doubt our cause.'
Bellatrix tensed, wand at the ready.
'Have no fear for your brother, my dear,' Voldemort continued, surprising both women. 'The subject of Lily Evans has puzzled me in the past, but know that her lineage is pure. She merely has the misfortune to live amongst Muggles. Your brother will come to no harm in consorting with this particular witch. Indeed, I would have the both of them join our cause, when you think they are ready. Perhaps your blood family can join your new one.'