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Chapter 8 Darkness
Everybody's got a dark side-can you love me, can you love mine? Nobody's picture perfect...but we're worth it... -Kelly Clarson "Dark Side"
"Well," Voldemort continued quietly. "What is your name?"
"Susanna Lazaraith. I am widowed," the words flowed through me again, not of my own accord. I shivered and clung to the feeling of Dumbledore's power, the purest thing in this room. But then it disappeared, and I was on my own again. Until the next question.
"And you wish to become a Death Eater?"
"I do."
"Well, your request is denied!" He laughed a horrible, grating, hissing laugh. Bellatrix joined in as well, her high cackle mingling with his. The other Death Eaters joined in as well, eyeing me hungrily.
"SILENCE!" He roared, and the laughing stopped on a dime, his followers flinching. "You must prove yourself first, Susanna," the soft voice was back. He hadn't moved from his original position on the second step of the stairs, one hand on the banister. Somehow, this lack of movement seemed inhuman.
"How, my lord?" I struggled to keep my voice from cracking on the last bit. He was not a lord. He was a piece of scum. I tried to keep the open disgust from manifesting on my face, keeping my emotions in check; a Slytherin trait, something I would have to play the part of. I thought of Snape, and my heart hurt at what he would think of me, at the dark road he was straying down, the one that would lead him, completely willingly, to here. But that was his choice.
"This is one of our bases," he spread his hands. "Stay here. Leave your life behind. Serve me," he hissed the last two words, the sound bouncing around the room, crawling into the darkest cobwebbed corners, slithering behind cracks and into the walls, remaining even when it was silent.
So serve I did. For a whole week.
I knocked on the door brazenly, still holding onto the thought that if I did not keep a tight hold on my sanity, I would lose it. And small exercises like standing up to Voldemort in the miniscule ways that I could-like not letting him cow me-helped.
"Come in, Susanna," I shuddered at the name inwardly as I always did. I always thought of it as "the" name, not "my" name. I refused to lose anything that I didn't have to. Anything that kept me tied to Lily. It was near nighttime now-I had survived my first week.
"You have a visitor, my lord."
"Who is it?"
"Avery. He is reporting back from the mission."
"Let him in," he demanded, and I beckoned to the older man down the hall. His fingers brushed against my arm on the way into the completely dark room and I had to physically restrain myself from biting his hand off. I didn't want any of their filthy fingers on me. I began to close the door behind me-
"Wait." I stopped, still at his voice, held frozen at the door frame.
"I need you to run to Borgin and Burke's, Susanna. I need you to get something for me."
"Anything, my lord." I bowed deeply, screaming obscenities at him in my mind.
"Good. They will have it prepared. You will not open the package under any circumstances, no matter how tempted you are to opening it. Ask for it under the name Theodore Grant. Now go."
I had to hold in my excited shriek, and I rushed out of the dark house as fast as I could, taking in deep gulps of fresh air that hadn't been polluted by Voldemort or any of his followers.
This was the first time I had been allowed out in the week I had gotten here-I was going to savor every second of it. I forced one foot in front of the other down the hills until my feet met cobblestone, taking special care not to burst off running.
I began to walk down the road with purpose, holding myself tall. The second triumph of the task was that this was the most important assignment Voldemort had entrusted to me; I was making progress. Even some of the other Death Eaters were not looking at me like a piece of meat to be picked apart anymore.
Which, I guess, if you didn't think about it, was odd. Only a week? Some would scoff. Others, who knew better, would understand that few made it that far in the first place.
But it did not come without a price. With every day resisting their darkness, their evilness, I felt myself sinking as if into a depression.
I would have to adopt a new tactic if I valued my sanity-which I completely did. For the umpteenth time, I wondered what my friends and family would say if they saw my circumstance now. I wondered what they thought had happened to me. With this thought in my head, I apparated.
I ended up directly in the Leaky Cauldron. I headed immediately to the back, ignoring whispers and the people that parted before me. No doubt talk had already spread. They knew that I was one of them. One of Voldemort's followers, if not a Death Eater herself.
A small toddler strayed into my path, looking up at me with wide blue eyes.
"Hi," I smiled down at her as kindly as I could. Would the little girl see the good in me, or would she only sense the evil look that Susanna possessed? A ghost of a smile traced her lips, and she looked to be readying to respond before-
"Ellee, don't talk to strangers, what has Mommy told you about that? Come on, let's go-" the woman that must have been her mother threw me a worried look over her shoulder before pulling her daughter away. Her daughter twisted around backward to look at me, closing and unclosing her fingers in a pitiful attempt at waving. I waved back before disappearing into the entrance of Diagon Alley. I tapped the correct bricks-if I closed my eyes, I could pretend I was myself again, merely stepping into Diagon Alley, just to go shopping.
I could pretend. The bricks revealed the street behind it, and I stepped forward into the bustling, cobbled walkway. I breathed in the candy scented air, and gazed longingly at shops like Ollivander's and Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. I ginned to myself, imagining that Marlene was with me, and we were shopping for seventh year school supplies.
"Let's hit the ice cream first, and then shop-no, scratch that-we'll get ice cream at the beginning and the end, yeah?" That's what Marlene would have said. I could almost hear her now. I was floating along, trying to move fast but at the same time take everything in, when I saw it.
MISSING WITCH!
Lily Evan, last seen in Kalokeridemos, Greece in early July with the Potter and the Mckinnon families. Foul play is suspected. Please alert any of the Floo locations below if spotted!
Below were my parents' phone number, and several floo locations including the ministry of magic. There was also a large picture of me-not Susanna, but me-in the middle, smiling up at the camera, waving and laughing. That had been taken on one of the last days at Hogwarts. I remembered that day and a pang shot through my heart-I hadn't known it then, but that hadn't just been one of the last days of school for the year, but for life.
I continued walking, keeping my eyes set briskly ahead as I entered Knockturn Alley. I skirted around the edges of sharp corners, and a couple of men who looked like they were selling human eyeballs on a stick.
I entered what appeared to be the largest shop on the street per se Voldemort's instructions. Shouts and crazed laughs followed me inside, and as I stole a glance out the window I automatically did a double take-was that man really walking on his hands, making it look just as easy as if he were on his feet?
I shook my head of all the evil-oddness of the street that was so close in location, yet so different, than Diagon Alley.
I took special care not to wrinkle my nose in disgust at the various spiked metal objects ominously decorating the ceiling, the vials of poisons labeled and rated for how much pain they caused before death, the invisible flesh eating Bardells in a jar-"For Your Enemies" and the other, more gruesome and less mentionable items in the shop.
"May I help you?" A middle-aged man appeared from nowhere, and I jumped, biting my tongue instead of letting out my yelp of surprise.
"Yes. Erm-" I mentally shook myself. What self-respecting Death Eater would jump when startled, and then say something like "erm?"
"You have something for me," I blurted, trying to look menacing; I was afraid I was miserably failing. The man, who was probably either Borgin or Burke was looking down his hooked nose at me, a glint of malice in his dark eyes. His hair and clothes were scraggly, like cleaning faculties had not been available to him for quite some time. "Theodore Grant, actually."
At this, the man snapped to attention, color leaving his cheeks and looking around wildly.
"Theodore-is he here with you?"
"Obviously not!" I hissed, trying to imitate Bellatrix and her fanatic devotion. "Do you think the-the-Theodore-would stoop to such a low, retrieving his items himself?!" I stepped closer to him. Just acting, I thought. It's nothing more than one big play. And this is the opening night. "Do I need to relay that fact to "Theodore" himself, or can you get it to me now and let me be off?"
"I was merely wondering," the man said coolly, obviously not perturbed by my outburst. "You may look around while I retrieve it. It may be a few minutes."
"No thank you," I told him coolly. "I think I'll just stand."
He shrugged in a way that clearly stated that he couldn't care less. Walking off toward the back, I tried to keep my eyes focused on a spot above the checkout counter that was particularly dusty, but my eyes wandered.
"-sure we should have come down here?" A fearful voice came from the window, muffled by the wall. But the ancient door had not closed all the way, and that was all it took for the voice to travel through.
Marlene's voice.
"We've got to put them up everywhere, even down here!" That was James's voice.
"We'll put them up in Voldy's house itself if we've got to," the voice of Sirius said confidently. I admired his courage, making light of his name in a place like this. Not many people even spoke the name any more. It was too fear-inspiring.
But I would never consent to letting him hide behind the name You-Know-Who. I stood frozen so long, unable to move, that I missed Marlene's next retort. They were walking down the opposite end of the street, away from Borgin and Burke's.
In a spontaneous decision I bolted out of the shop, pulling to a halt right behind them. It was odd-they looked much shorter-I was the same height as tall James now. Sirius was also there, and Remus and Marlene. They all turned, one at a time, as they sensed a presence that was not their own. James was holding a textbook-thick stack of the "Missing" flyers.
It was so peculiar.
Seeing all of their eyes on me, with no spark of recognition...only suspicion.
"What are you kids doing in a place like this?" I asked in a scratchy voice.
"We would ask the same, but this is obviously your kind of place, isn't it?" Sirius stepped in front of the group, and shifting a bit so he was in front of Marlene…like he needed to protect her. In an awful, sickening moment, I was reminded of Vernon shielding Petunia from James the night he came to my house, and I was flooded with a powerful desire to let my cover slip.
But I could never do that. I bit my lip, restraining myself.
I ignored Sirius's jab. "What have you got there?"
"Missing flyers, what's it to you?" James ventured cockily, lifting his head up to talk to me even though we were close to the same height.
"That girl is missing, you say?" It's me! I screamed in my head, wishing with all my might that he would hear.
"Yes, she is, do you know anything about her? Have you seen her?" Marlene stepped forward eagerly, and Remus shook his head warningly at her, barely enough to be seen. He had bags under his eyes, and I recalled that the full moon was approaching. That was one of the periodical things I did: checked the moon every night, calculated how long Remus had until the transformation. One of the oddly familiar tasks that kept me sane.
"I haven't," I felt terrible as Marlene's shoulders slumped dejectedly and she stepped back. "But if I knew her," I spoke up again, cautiously. I looked to James especially, locking eyes with him-I was risking this message for him. "If I knew her, and she had friends as good as you, I know she wouldn't want you to waste your lives waiting, if she wasn't coming back," my voice cracked. "She'd want you to live your lives, and not to be sad that she was gone, but not to forget about her."
"Um, yeah," Sirius said, but James was looking at me, searching my eyes-for a moment, a brief spark of hope re-lighted in me-did he know?
"Prongs, mate-" James didn't look away, and now all four were inspecting me, looking for something that James's body language was saying he was searching for. "That sounds just like something she would say," James muttered quickly under his breath to Remus.
"Are you sure you haven't seen her?" Remus stepped forward, looking at me with extreme suspicion.
"I'm sure," I nodded, stepping back and away. I could barely force myself to do it, but I had to, for their safety-I looked like Susanna, not Lily. I couldn't change back, ever. I would have to accept that. This short flame of light in my new darkness would only make it seem all the blacker when it flickered out.
I tore my gaze away, and it almost caused me physical pain as I disappeared back into the shop.
"That was really odd," I heard Marlene's voice whisper.
James's response was a garbled string of words that I didn't catch. The back of my eyes burned with tears that wanted to be shed, but I refused to let them come out. I walked back toward the center of the shop. My excuse for redirecting the impeding tears was to examine a particularly brutal looking torture device strapped to the ceiling.
In what felt like hours later, the man burst out of the back.
"I have what Theodore ordered," he coughed a hacking, wheezing sort of cough. "Here you go. He's paid in advance."
The package looked innocent enough, although it almost seemed to whisper to me as I carried it home. It was a wrapped square box, completely plain otherwise. I was often tempted to open it, but I knew I couldn't.
I walked out of the shop, looking curiously at the box.
"Ooopennnn," I shook my head. That box couldn't have just...talked, could it have?
I walked uneasily down Knockturn Alley, not thinking of anything but the box when-
"No, please, help!" A horrible screech came from down the road-either no one else seemed to hear it, or no one else cared. I scrambled down to where the voice was coming from, pushing people out of my way in the process.
Turning my head wildly, I didn't see anyone, but the screams continued. Finally, I seemed to have found the source: a boarded-up shop with a shabby, home-made sign advertising Portkeys on the top.
I ducked in the door, which promptly fell down, slamming onto the ground and releasing a cloud of dust. I jumped back, startled. All the door had been doing was propping itself up in the frame. It had not been attached at all.
"Hello?" I called out, drawing my wand. "Who's there?" I took another step into the darkness, lighting the tip of my wand. I heard muffled moans, and the sound of feet scrambling-I followed the sounds up a rickety staircase, up to the top of the shop-
"Expelliarmus!" I shouted before anyone else could react. Two wands flew into my hands, belonging to the men that were holding down an old man, who was looking at me pleadingly.
"Don't move!" The stockier of the two snarled. "Give us back our wands, now. Or he dies."
"Okay. I'm going to put them right here," I consented, preparing myself. I locked my eyes on both of them and the old, feeble-looking man that lay crumpled on the ground between them. He widened his eyes at me, looking like he was furiously trying to tell me something. I had my wand at the perfect angle now, if only I could distract him-
"So what's he done to you?" I asked in my most persuasive voice, crouching like I was about to set their wands down on the floor.
"What's it to you, girlie?" The taller, lankier one snarled. "If you must know, Old Randy here tried to cheat us. We had a deal, we says, and he don' get to ask questions," he spat on the ground. "He was to deliver the Portkeys and leave, 'cause we made our payment, we did."
"But he stayed at the door and listened, and heard what we were usin' 'em for!" The second man bellowed, outraged. "And then he refused to make 'em for us!" He shot a murderous look at the man between them, and I saw my opportunity.
"Petrificus Totalus!" I took out the man with the knife first and then got to the second before he could even shout out in surprise. They both clattered to the ground, stiff as boards.
"Are you alright?" I scrambled forward, helping him up. He didn't appear to be injured, except for a shallow, bloody scrape on his forehead and a black eye.
"Thank you," the man, Randy, moaned, standing up crookedly. "Not many people would'a done that, attacked them for me. 'Specially not here, in Knockturn Alley," he offered a smile.
"You're welcome. You sell Portkeys?" I helped him downstairs after retrieving my wand and levitating the two men behind me.
"Yes, and I owe you one," he said gruffly, looking at me with bright blue eyes, one of which looked blind. He was thin and would have been tall if he hadn't stood with a stoop. Stringy grey hair and shabby clothes made him look extremely poor, and I felt sorry for him.
"So, you refused to sell to them when you realized they were up to something bad?" I recounted as I levitated the men outside and down the road a ways. "They won't bother you again, d'you think, will they?"
"I've got my wand back now, I'm ready for them," he waved the long wand up at me in proof, then setting it back down on the table as he put a kettle of water on the stove. "And yes, that's what happened."
"What's a business man with morals doing, selling in Diagon Alley?" I took care in which chair I sat in, noticing that most of them looked rotten.
"Only place that has people with need of Portkeys, really," he said, sitting down across from me. "And I'm serious when I say I owe you one, Ms.-?"
"Ev-uh, Lazaraith," I blushed profusely at the slip-up. "But you can call me Susanna."
"Well, Susanna," the man smiled kindly at me. "Here," he handed me a card that he seemed to have produced out of thin air-
Randy Clarrbridge
715154 Knockturn Alley
Custom-made Portkeys, the best in Britain!
"Thank you," I pocketed it, sure that I would never use it.
"Would you stay for tea?" He asked, and suddenly I realized…I was on a schedule.
"Oh-no, I've got to go, sorry!" I stood up abruptly, searching wildly for the box that I had just realized I was no longer holding.
"Accio box," I muttered, and it came zooming into my hand from near the knocked-down door.
"Thank you again, Susanna, and do not hesitate to cash in the favor," he shook my hand, and I left quickly.
I hurriedly walked down the street, trying to ignore the hissing, whispering voice coming from the box. It couldn't be...talking, could it?
No, that would be insane, I decided, holding the box at arms' length as soon as I apparated onto the street of the safe house, not wanting it any closer to me than it already was. Something strange was inside that box.
"Oppppen me!" The whisperings became more feverish, more urgent as I approached. I flung the door open, hurrying to where Voldemort was last time I had seen him. The box's voice seemed to come from all sides, strange whispers that I could hear but couldn't understand-
"Enter, Susanna," came the voice after I knocked, but before I had even opened the door, or given any sign that it was me who stood on the outside of the door. Goose bumps erupted on my arms. The hallways seemed darker when I had entered, but I had yet to feel true darkness.
When I stepped inside the room Voldemort was in, the darkness seemed to swallow me whole. I looked around wildly, my eyes as wide as they could go as I tried to absorb any light that there could have been-I let go of the box with one hand, putting the other up in front of my face-I didn't even see an outline.
"Well done, Susanna," Voldemort's voice was right next to my ear. "Very obedient. You did not open the box," he observed, his voice changing position, like he was circling me. The way a vulture circled its prey. "If you had, you would have died a very painful death," he continued. "And then, of course, all of us would know you had not been fit to be a Death Eater!" he laughed cruelly, and I forced out a laugh with him.
"But of course, that is not the only test to reveal your...competence...for that position," he stopped laughing suddenly, removing the box from my hands. As soon as I stopped touching it, I realized just how strong the temptation to open it had actually been-it was full of strange power, that was certain. But it was dark power. Maybe that was why it had been so easy to resist-the test was designed for those who would have been more fascinated with the Dark Arts than I.
"Of course," I agreed softly. A soft hissing that I had originally thought had been the whispering of the box grew louder, hissing into my ears and filling them completely until I could concentrate on nothing else. I stifled a scream as a slithering body crawled over my toes. I trembled violently, every muscle in my screaming to kick up my feet and get the huge snake the hell off of me. That's what it must have been-a snake.
"No, Excipio," and the end of the snake finally passed my feet. He then continued speaking in a hissing, squirming sort of voice, the sound of it echoing around the room, making my skin crawl-what was worse, the snake was actually hissing back-like they were conversing.
I suddenly felt very cold.
"Susanna, I must ask you something," he continued, brushing against my shoulder as he continued to circle around me.
"Anything, my lord," I struggled to spit out the loathsome words.
"Why is it you desire to become a Death Eater?" he finally stopped circling. From what I could tell, he was right in front of me. I sensed it rather than saw it-my eyes were not adjusting to the dark. I suddenly had the terrible sensation that Excipio was not the only snake in the room.
"I wish to serve you, master, and to rid the world of all the filth you think is undesirable. Most of the wizarding world is full of their nonsense equality notions, and I fear you and your followers are one of the last sane groups that believe in the old ways," the words flowed out of my mouth, sweet as honey but as sharp as knives. That was Susanna's power coming through, and it would be mine if only I could harness it. Unfortunately, her voice would only sound like that when Dumbledore's prearranged magic words left my lips. It was odd speaking when that happened, like I was no more than a puppet.
"Very interesting," he said softly. "Where did you receive magical education?"
"Beauxbatons," I replied evenly.
"I thought as much...I did not remember you at Hogwarts," he hissed. "But you do not have a French accent."
"I have lived in London since I was seventeen. Eight years of Britain will impose upon you its own way of speaking."
"Interesting. So you will not mind, then-Legimens!" he whispered, and the hissing of the snakes got louder for a moment before fading away completely. I could tell he was sifting through memories, sorting; but they weren't mine. They were the ones Dumbledore had set up to be found, to prove my story correct.
Flashes of another wizarding school blew through my mind-different teachers, and different friends-friends with dark, mean faces-friends who joined their own dark groups after school was finished.
"I see," he said, finally, softly, as the visions stopped. "Interesting," he said again. "Why did you move to London?"
"Business," I answered coolly. "I met my husband there, and stayed until he died two years later."
"Touching," he said in a voice that clearly stated that it was not touching at all. "Any children?"
"I despise children," my voice flowed, especially loathsome.
"You may go," the door opened, and I almost had to squint my eyes as I left-suddenly the dark had become light.
I laid back-down on my bed, looking up out the crack in the boarded window. The house was much bigger than it appeared on the outside, and there were an ample amount of rooms for all of the Death Eaters. Not every single one, of course: this safe house was just for the closest of the Death Eaters, and those like me, who had yet to prove themselves.
The room that I was hesitant to call mine was almost completely bare-I had no personal belongings, save things like robes and a hairbrush. The small room was furnished with a rickety table, splintering chair, and cracked mirror, an iron framed bed with a mattress that rivaled the age of Dumbledore, and of course, the small window. But it didn't do much use as it was boarded up. However, there was a small crack that had been growing slightly bigger with a bit of help from yours truly.
It was close to the full moon now-the cycle would be complete within a few days. I closed my eyes, shivering against the thin quilt. Of all the food I had been feeding myself to fatten up bony Susanna's body, none of it seemed to be sticking. If anything, I looked more like a skeleton now than when I had first arrived. A skeleton with skin stretched over its frame.
For the umpteenth time, my mind was left to wonder aimlessly, and I entertained myself with thoughts of what my friends would say if they knew I was doing this. If they knew what I was sacrificing to save theirs-and thousands of others-lives. Because no doubt their lives would be in the grand total, with Hogwarts being Voldemort's main target.
Lily, James would shake his head. I always knew you would do something like that. But is there any way I can take your place? He would be totally serious when he said that. It was just something James would say. The truth of it brought tears to my eyes.
Only I can do it, James, I thought to him.
Why are you crying, Lily? Sirius would ask. You're saving our lives, and so many others...just don't let the Death Eaters and their disgusting smell and disgusting EVERYTHING get to you, alright? We want our Lily back soon.
Oh, Lily, Marlene would shake her head. What in the world have you gotten yourself into this time? Just hang in there-we know you'll get out of it.
You've got the going into it part over with, now there's just the rest. The worst is over, Lils, Dorcas would assure me. By now, the tears were flowing. Remus, Alice, Emmy...Peter, my other friends...they would all say things like that.
And my family?
Lily, I have told you from the start that you freaks are up to no good! Petunia's voice rang loud and clear in my mind. Well, as clear as my imagination would allow it to be.
"Not all of them are bad," I whispered aloud. "Just these."
And my parents would assure me that I could do it, no matter what.
I fell asleep imagining their voices, and dreamed of Hogwarts.
"Wake up!" Bellatrix slapped my face, and I was abruptly shaken into the world of the waking. I glared at her as she cackled madly, reaching for my wand just to get her out of there. She was insane.
I took special care to dress this morning, putting on black robes and pinning up my hair, slipping on my shoes after washing my face. I was not going to stop caring about my appearance, even though it wasn't mine. I wasn't going to stop trying.
"Is that her?" A cruel, vicious looking man sneered at me, as soon as I descended down the stairs into the kitchen. He showed off pointed, yellowing teeth. He was a huge, beasty looking man with stringy, brown and grey hair and an abnormal amount of facial hair. He was wearing Death Eater robes, but on closer inspection I did not see a Dark Mark on his arm.
"Yes," Sebastian Travers looked at me as well, standing up and swaggering over, putting a heavy arm around me. He looked drunk, though it was morning. And he smelled of liquor.
"This is her!" He slurred. "Wanting to join the Death Eaters."
He was drunk. Alecto and Amycus Carrow, two other Death Eaters in the room, laughed hysterically.
"Don't bloody touch me," I snapped, shoving his arm off and only succeeding in overpowering him because of his slowed reflexes.
"Feisty little thing, but will she survive tonight?" The hairy, brutal looking man bared his teeth once more at me.
"That is what we will discover, isn't it?" Voldemort's voice carried from the staircase. "Welcome, Fenrir." I couldn't place it, but his tone held a certain note of disgust, though that didn't make sense, because Fenrir was not only wearing Death Eater robes, but Voldemort had allowed this Fenrir man into his house.
"What's happening tonight, Master?" Bellatrix ran to Voldemort's side. "Torturing? Killing? Both?" She grinned eagerly.
"It seems a small group of wizards," he began, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. "Walden, fetch me my wand," he interrupted himself, pointing at a new recruit. "Has been rather loud in voicing their opinions about us," angry hissing filled the room. "And they must be stopped before their small group grows," he continued, eyes flashing red as he descended, slowly and regal-like, into the room of his followers. "And we shall commence tonight. Borehamwood," he continued. "Is the current location of this group. We aim to kill."
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-C