Hello everyone!
Another one on time: I seem to be making a habit of it! Special thanks goes to Viderelux, who beta-ed the chapter and got rid of all of the annoying little mistakes!
Also I'm not sure if I thanked Ash-Caro-Lynn, who beta-ed up to chapter 10 - if you recieve several notifications after this chapter today, it'll be because I'm modifying those ones (better late than never).
To those who reviewed, I really appreciate it: You Only Live Once-Cherish It, Senyuu, BraiveHart, Mina, VidereLux, LadyElizabethDarcy, lizyeh2000, , Cae-Leigh Anne and Nik1804.
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Three weeks later, a familiar knot in Emma's stomach was roiling, panic simmering in her veins like acid. She forced herself to breathe steadily as she paced back and forth on the shore of the Black Lake, too hyper aware of everything. Regulus was lazily propped up against a nearby tree, leafing through his History of Magic notes. Nearby, Bluebell flames flickered inside a crystal goblet Regulus had transfigured from an oddly shaped stone.
Although Emma's scarf and hair were being whipped around by the wind, she didn't feel the cold. They were supposed to be going to Hogsmeade the next day, not for pleasure, but for the next initiation ceremony. Three Ravenclaws and two Slytherins were to be presented to Voldemort for approval, and Barty was finally going to get the Dark Mark he so craved.
Originally, the Slytherins had planned to go early, and then all meet up in the Three Broomsticks for a drink. Fifth years drinking with seventh years wasn't too strange an occurrence, especially when it was crowded. On a nearby table one of the Ravenclaws would mention that they were going to see the Shrieking Shack, at which point the Slytherins would wait five minutes, and then loudly tell each other that it sounded like a good idea. Meeting them on the far side of the Shack would be Albert Runcorn, as Rodolphus's face was plastered all over Hogsmeade via Ministry wanted posters.
One small flaw in this plan was that the whole of the Quidditch team were serving detention along with the Gryffindors. On top of that, they had their Hogsmeade privileges revoked until the Easter holidays. Barty would not be getting his Mark if he didn't turn up and besides, everyone knew the consequences of standing up the Dark Lord. So Emma had to find a way to somehow get them out of their two o'clock detention and into Hogsmeade half an hour later.
Rabastan was on his best behaviour and catching up on all of his assignments in the library, something that hadn't required much prodding. His paranoia about being found out, far from being alleviated with Bones's departure, had returned twofold after the problems with Alecto. He had become unusually serious, the roguish twinkle gone from his eye. Emma didn't want to put more pressure on him than necessary, so he hadn't been included in the brainstorming.
Barty was always off digging up more information on future members of the Order of the Phoenix - Fenwick apparently thought the son of the person who hated Voldemort above and beyond all else would be trustworthy.
Alecto was now gone, disappeared most probably for several months to come. The Dark Lord would be keeping her on a tight leash, training her to be as effective a killer as the Lestranges before releasing her into the wild. By no means did Emma forgive her, or even like her anymore - the redhead was too scary for that - but she found that she missed the stoic girl's absence in the dorm. Sometimes it had seemed like the two of them were the only sane people in the room when Lucinda, Helen and Sophie got together to discuss fashion.
Angrily redoubling her pace, Emma brushed her scarf out of her face for the umpteenth time, snagging her hair with her nails as she did so.
'Ouch,' she exclaimed, rubbing her scalp, but the pain only served to make her more incensed.
When her pacing sent mud flying over in Regulus's direction, he rolled out of the way with reflexes honed by Quidditch. Glancing up over his pages, whatever he saw on her face made him decide to stop revising.
'Give it a break, Emma,' he said soothingly, standing up as he put his books away.
'I won't "give it a break", Reg!' Emma cried frustratedly. 'Think, think! There's an obvious solution on the tip of my tongue, but I just can't remember it.'
His eyes narrowed a little, and Emma realised that she had accidentally called him by his nickname - something to be tolerated, but avoided. It must have seemed as though she was accusing him of something.
'Sorry,' she relented, ceasing all movement. The world around her spun slightly from the abrupt halt, her legs itching to continue their march. 'It's just frustrating. The others just seem to think…that we can do anything! Apart from Rabastan, they're not even bothered about it.'
'Isn't that what we wanted though? Regulus asked quietly, his eyes holding hers. 'Gain the allegiance of the Gurgs, convert or remove top Muggleborns.' His voice rose up in pitch, imitating their triumph sarcastically. 'The youngest Death Eaters in the world! Here to make a difference.'
His eyes turned towards the lake, mirroring the flat, grey clouds reflected on the surface.
Just like that, Emma's pent up energy drained away. Her shoulders sagged in defeat as she realised that Regulus was right. Closing the distance between them, she ran a hand down his arm. As he turned, she pulled him in for a hug, relishing the warm there-ness of his presence.
She lived in her mind, in their grand delusions of a better world for wizards and Muggleborns alike. Somehow, she had lost all hope of that vision coming true, but now she realised that she had built up the despair as well. Right there, right then, they were at Hogwarts, the safest place in the wizarding world. It was pointless to skip ahead just yet, not with the N.E. ahead of them. Even the Dark Lord knew that they couldn't be as active as a proper Death Eater.
Yet as the thought crossed her mind, she banished it. Voldemort may be fair, but he did not tolerate failure. If they were marked, then they should be prepared to bear the weight of the responsibility.
'I know it's rich, coming from me,' Regulus murmured. 'But forget about it for now. I trust that you'll find a way with Slughorn for the detention, you always do. Let me worry about getting there.'
Emma shifted her head, but Regulus read her thoughts, meeting her halfway as their lips crashed together. The lies that were so well hidden in his words came to life as he pulled her closer, as if he knew there were only so many more times he could do so.
When they broke apart, Emma found herself reaching for his face, making sure that the Regulus she knew and loved was still there somewhere. He had still been somewhat distant since the start of the New Year, and although she knew him to be studious, he had been checking books out of the library nearly nonstop.
What are you hiding behind those mirror eyes? She wanted to ask. What makes you so afraid now, when you've faced down a team of Aurors without a blink?
The questions stayed in her throat. He was looking at her as though trying to memorise her features, his eyes roaming her face with a desperation that she had only associated with his relationship with Sirius before.
'Regulus?' she asked. 'Are you alright?'
He looked down instead of answering, sliding his fingers down the gold chain around her neck until he reached the ring he had given her for Christmas, pressing it to her chest with his thumb and two forefingers.
'Promise me you won't take this off,' he said instead, his voice husky. 'No matter what happens, you'll keep it, won't you?'
'Yes, yes of course,' Emma replied immediately, enclosing his hand with her own. 'How could I not?'
Her arm was still entangled with his, the movement pulling them even closer. Emma could feel her heart beating rapidly; years of knowing Regulus and months of dating him hadn't stopped the lurching in her chest whenever they came close.
'I just need to know...' Regulus looked as though he regretted having started the conversation at all, but the slight flush in his cheeks told Emma it was important. 'If something happens, and you don't understand why…I need you to know that I'll always love you. That's something that will never change.'
'I do know,' Emma replied, her mind ignoring the details she couldn't understand. He's probably just getting hit by the stress, she thought. 'I love you too. It's not something that's conditional. It's just... there.'
And as though to prove her point, she threw herself against him once more, forcing him to lean back against the tree for support as they engaged in a different sort of conversation.
'Someone looks like they've been having fun,' Rabastan remarked ironically, some of his natural cheek coming back as the two Slytherins slid into their seats that evening.
Emma blushed, but her face was flushed enough to hide the extra red. The heat of the castle seemed like a furnace compared to the chilly exterior and she unwound her scarf before settling down to eat.
'Nice work,' Lucinda remarked quietly to Emma, glancing deliberately to Regulus.
His hair could have been mistaken for James's, mussed up as it was, and his usual perfectly knotted tie was loosely hanging over a back to front jumper. Two years ago, he wouldn't have been caught dead looking like that, but now the seventh year Slytherins felt like family and most of the Great Hall had already left the table.
'Aww, I expected love bites,' Rabastan complained as Emma placed her scarf along the table.
Despite her flaming cheeks, Emma resolutely ignored Rabastan and managed to grab a plate of pasta before the food vanished to be replaced by desserts. Her fork was halfway to her mouth when she froze in place, her mouth hanging open.
'Emma? Hello? The notion can't be that foreign to you,' Rabastan continued. 'After all, you have been going out for what... four, five months now?' He sat back, amazed. 'Whoa. I thought it had been going on for a lot longer than that.'
He looked to Regulus for confirmation, but the Slytherin seeker was too busy readjusting his tie to listen. He looked back to Lucinda, who just shrugged, eating a slice of apple pie.
'Did you see that?' Emma asked excitedly, her eyes following the furtive movements of Peter Pettigrew entering the Great Hall and grabbing a dish of trifle before dashing back out.
Rabastan twisted around, but by then it was too late. 'See what?' he asked, slighted that no one had reacted to his latest joke.
'I did,' Lucinda said. 'But what does Pettigrew stealing trifle have to do with anything?'
'Everything,' Emma breathed, and excitedly told them her plan for the weekend.
'Professor!' Lucinda shouted down the corridor on Saturday morning.
She brushed her hair off her shoulder as she jogged down the corridor after Slughorn, her eyes bright with emotion. The Head of Slytherin paused, looking at her quizzically.
'Professor, I'm so glad I caught you!' Lucinda said breathlessly, hand fluttering to her heart.
Underneath the Invisibility Cloak, Emma wasn't sure whether it was feigned or not. The blonde's cheeks were also slightly pink from the exertion. Regulus glanced to his girlfriend, obviously mirroring her thoughts. Rabastan had wanted to come along, but he was getting too tall to fit under the cloak, so he had been made to watch for James and the rest of his band around the corridor.
'I just wanted to say thank you for saving my hair with your regrowth potion,' Lucinda went on, withdrawing a small box from her schoolbag. 'I know Anthony feels the same way too.'
'Anthony?' Slughorn asked, slightly bewildered.
'Anthony Nott, sir,' Lucinda explained. 'He was the one hit with the bone breaking curse.'
'Ah yes, the young Beater,' Slughorn nodded. 'How is he doing?'
'Very well, thanks to you sir,' Lucinda replied, laying the compliments a little thickly. 'Actually, we had the House Elves make this for you.' She opened the box to show the crystallised pineapple within. 'They said it was your favourite.'
'Quite right, my dear!' Slughorn boomed cheerfully, taking the box from Lucinda and popping a fruit into his mouth right then. Emma and Regulus shared a look of triumph. 'Well, now. Let it not be said that Slytherin is an ungrateful house.'
'Do you think we put enough in?' Emma asked Regulus in a whisper, watching Slughorn walk off whistling a jaunty tune. He doesn't seem all that different, she thought.
'Enough to turn the head of a hippogriff,' Regulus replied confidently. 'Plus, the potion's been sitting around since before Christmas. If that doesn't work, I think I'll be so impressed it might be worth the Dark Lord's torture.'
'Don't say that,' Emma hissed immediately, and Regulus fell into an apologetic silence.
They shuffled forwards as Lucinda backed away, her part of the plan accomplished. Emma could only hope that Barty had been as successful.
She needn't have worried.
Professor Vector appeared, standing confusedly near the statue of the one-eyed witch. Slughorn's reaction was almost comical to watch, but Regulus and Emma managed to hold in anything louder than a grin. Their potions teacher made a grand sweeping gesture with his hat, bowing low as he did so. The tall witch looked slightly bemused, but started talking hesitantly.
Emma knew that Barty had succeeded when Slughorn motioned for Vector to walk down the hall to the dungeons, where he would spend the better part of four hours listening to her talk about the importance of Arithmancy in Potions and agree to help her experiment. As the Slytherin Quidditch team's punishment was to clean out the cauldrons every Saturday, Slughorn would push their punishment back to that evening, or the following morning, depending on how long Vector would spend in the dungeons.
At least that was the plan.
'It worked!' Rabastan yipped, prancing around the statue of the one-eyed-witch.
Barty had been called to the Head table during lunch to be informed of the change in schedule of their punishment. McGonagall had looked as though she wanted to argue, but her lips pursed back together when Barty immediately asked when the catch up punishment would be. Emma thought she had even glimpsed a hint of approval. That boy is on the way to being Head Boy in two years, she thought, eying the fifth year chatting with Regulus – or more likely to Regulus, as the latter seemed to be contented with just nodding. He'll be able to do anything he wants once this is all over.
'Is everyone here?' she asked, eyes sweeping over the small cluster of green-clad students before her. It was getting hard to memorise all of them, but she didn't want a single one punished under her watch.
Regulus did a quick head count. Contrary to the former Quidditch Captain, he really did know everyone inside the Slytherin dorms, and then some. And that wasn't just a figure of speech. He knew everyone by name, knew their aspirations, their stories. The younger students looked up to him and beamed with pride when Regulus remembered their first names. Emma wondered if that was what had drawn Barty to Regulus in the first place. Either way, she was glad the fifth year was on their side.
When her boyfriend nodded, Emma glanced up the corridor, but no one was there – most had either already gone to Hogsmeade or were sitting out their punishments by now.
She opened the not-so-secret passageway and motioned for Rabastan to jump in and help those who weren't accustomed to sliding out of the back of a witch's tongue when they arrived on the other side. Just as the last of their group – Mulciber Junior – disappeared through the witch's maw, Emma caught a glimpse of Regulus's face, eyebrows furrowed and skin paler than usual, fear and anger warring for dominance on his features. By the time she had processed all of this, he was gone.
With a frown of her own, Emma entered the passageway, closing it behind her as she went.
As she lead the way through the cellar of Honeydukes – Lucinda having caused a ruckus at exactly the right time outside by casting Tripping jinxes on everyone in sight from below the invisibility cloak – Emma pondered the meaning of Regulus's giveaway. She wondered if he had seen someone come down the corridor, but immediately dismissed the idea.
The few times she had seen him truly afraid could be counted on one hand. There was the time with the Gurgs, when both of them thought they were going to die. There was the time when he thought that the Ministry was going to go after Emma when they had disintegrated the arm of an Auror. There was the time in the burning house, when she, Regulus and Rabastan had hidden in the rubble to avoid capture during their first raid. There was the time when Rabastan had disappeared for over two weeks during the summer without word, and they believed him to be dead, or worse, captured. And finally, there was the time he asked her to marry him.
She glanced back at him, but he was wearing his impassive mask, his jaw maybe more set than usual, but that could be simply worry about being caught. Realising that she was frowning again, Emma tried to smooth her features. They were almost at the meeting point.
'My Lord,' Emma said, bowing deeply. Her voice felt husky, though many of the Death Eaters' voices brimmed with emotion when they faced the Dark Lord.
A sense of relief washed over her as she took her place, not even minding the grin that Bellatrix flashed her way. Alecto was not there, but that could be because she was sent on a mission. Not everyone needed to be there for the branding, but Emma had requested it, as had Rabastan and Regulus. They had all felt it their duty to be there with Barty when he was marked. They hadn't described the pain, and it wouldn't have mattered if they had. The Dark Mark was not for those of the faint-hearted, and if pain could have put him off, then he wouldn't have been offered the honour.
Emma had a second reason to come to the branding. The Dark Lord always knew what to say to wash away her doubts, casting the shadow of her doubt into the flaming light. He understood her, in a way that no one but Regulus seemed to, and although they had never mentioned it, she knew that Regulus felt the same way.
The shiver of excitement that she felt when he spoke, the course of adrenaline that electrified her body when he described the new world – it all made the fight worth it. And Emma had been having more doubts than ever before.
The Dark Lord was frightening, yes, but powerful. Sometimes, the world needed to be forced to see the light. And once the war was over, the others would understand that it was for the greater good. That was the plan, anyway. Lately, Emma wondered if even she believed in the plan anymore.
Before she knew it, the branding was over. Barty and a sixth year Ravenclaw named Rowle were marked. The other two Ravenclaws and Mulciber Junior received heavy robes of the softest silk. A reminder of the weight they bore on their shoulders, but also of the way Dark Magic seemed to fit you like a glove, if only you let it in.
The Dark Lord called her forwards, and with a jolt, Emma realised that it was the first time she had been to a meeting since before Christmas. A lump of bile rose to her throat, but she forced it back down as she knelt in the middle of the circle.
'I am told that you ruined Bella's fun during the trap for the Aurors?' he asked softly, but it was not the charming voice that she remembered. The slight sibilant sound of his "s" had turned into a snake-like hiss, a promise of pain.
'Yes, my Lord,' Emma replied, forbidding herself from stammering. 'We were running out of time and the Aurors would have caught us in the open. I wasn't going to risk my life for a simple Muggle.' She spit the word with as much venom as she could, her anger at the situation helping her credibility.
'Ah, you see Bella?' Voldemort turned his head slightly to his left. 'There was nothing to worry about.' He turned back to Emma. 'I should commend you for your first kill,' he said casually. 'As a reward, I shall expect you to lead the raid on little Hangleton on Easter Sunday. Take whomever you wish. Make sure that nothing, no one, is left standing.'
With a wave, she was dismissed. Emma's insides were shaking so much; she wasn't sure how it wasn't visible. Her palms were sweaty, but she didn't dare wipe them on her robe for fear of being caught. The Dark Lord didn't do well with cowards.
She pulled herself together barely in time for the end of the meeting, realising that she hadn't listened to a word he had said to anyone else. She wondered if Regulus had been obligated to enter the circle, whether something went bad on the raid for him. A wave of guilt crashed into her - she had been too preoccupied to press him for the details. She immediately blanked it out, that kind of feeling would be easily picked up by Legilimency. She refused to even look at Regulus on the way out.
Her eyes flickered up to Rabastan instead, her partner in crime on the fateful night of the Muggle killing. His own were shadowed, but he gave her a grim smile and the barest of nods.
He would come to little Hangleton to remind her of what must be done.