Chapter 11 Dark Mark
If you're going through hell, just keep movin' don't slow down, you might get out 'fore the devil even knows you're there. -Rodney Atkins, "If You're Going Through Hell"
The next morning, I was already paranoid that the whole thing was Voldemort's test illusion.
At breakfast, the food was bland-did that mean it wasn't real?
But when another Death Eater ran into my shoulder, it hurt like any other day. Did that mean it was?
"The Dark Lord wishes to speak to you," Augustus Rookwood's voice spoke suddenly from outside my door. He opened it slightly, pushing his sharp-featured face in. "So you'd better go, now," he spoke lazily, as if demanding a fly to get off his food.
"I am," I snapped, jumping off from organizing my stack of new books from Diagon Alley on a shelf I'd nailed in over my bed. I didn't know how it was possible, but Susanna had money in a vault at Gringotts. Not much, but enough. One hundred galleons, seventy-three sickles, and twenty-three knuts were left now.
Whether her parents had put it there for her before they had realized she was going to be stillborn and had never gotten around to taking it out, or if Dumbledore had, I didn't know. All I knew that I was currently reading through seventh year textbooks like they were fascinating novels. I had been with the Death Eaters long enough now that no one questioned it, only put it down as another one of my peculiar oddities that they were convinced I was riddled with.
I walked quietly to Voldemort's room, knocking to announce my presence.
"Come in, Susanna."
I pushed open the door quietly to his dark snake room. "Yes, my lord?"
For once, the room wasn't dark.
I wished it was.
A blood red light was shining from a single lamp, bathing the many, many snakes in a scarlet glow. I shuddered, surprising myself: I had thought I had become accustomed to the sight of Voldemort's snakes, but not in this quantity. The scaly coils looped over chairs, shelves, and they covered the floor completely save for the spot where I was standing, giving me a small birth. They were slithering over Voldemort's feet, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to be encouraging it-he was hissing back with them in conversation, using his Parseltongue skill. Their beady black eyes flashed as they whispered of things I couldn't understand.
He beckoned me to the center of the room and I approached slowly, tensing up every time I narrowly missed stepping on a snake. More than half of them looked poisonous.
"How is joining the ranks of the Death Eaters suiting you, Susanna?" He held my eye contact, and I couldn't pull away.
Something almost imperceptibly changed in the atmosphere, something anyone else would have missed if they hadn't been looking for it. But a day's worth of paranoia prepared me.
A subtle flip in gravity, almost-for a moment, it felt as if my feet had left the floor. Almost like being light-headed, which was what most people would have put it down for. And maybe it was, I thought with doubt. But I shook myself out of it. It was too much of a coincidence for it to be anything but the entrance of the illusion.
"Yes, my lord, I am," I finally remembered to answer. He nodded, looking slightly different in a way I couldn't put my finger on. And something in the air had changed, too-but my mind was too hazy to realize.
Then it occurred to me-the snakes were not hissing. They were no longer making any noise.
"The snakes," I started.
"Yes?" he pushed.
"They've stopped hissing," I was already regretting speaking.
"Sometimes they do that," he said softly. "Nothing to worry about. Now Susanna, come with me. We are going to test your loyalty," his eyes flashed dangerously, and now I knew we were in the illusion.
"Anything, my lord!" I said confidently. "Anything."
A ghost of a smile traced his lips, and I could tell he was thinking something along the lines of-we'll see about that.
Yes, Voldemort. We will.
"There has been a tiny spot of resistance, however, we must stamp it out, however small, before they can recruit followers. Come. You need not know the location-only follow me."
Voldemort disappeared with a pop. No theatrics now-just straight dissaparating.
I dissaparated as well, swallowing my doubt that I wouldn't need the location.
It proved true, however-when the squeezing sensation had passed, I opened my eyes to a small neighborhood darkened with sunset. The air was cold, and packed snow crunched under our feet as we walked. The cold was biting.
Something tugged in the back of my mind-my eyes shot open with surprise-this was Susanna's home.
"My hometown," I murmured. Voldemort's eyes flashed with triumph. "It is here?" I struggled to keep my voice even, trying to speak with shock in my voice. Susanna's acting talent did not fail me.
"Yes. Now this house-this one here-blow it open. I will go from the back. If anyone approaches us, kill them. No exceptions. Now go!" Voldemort snarled, and I did not hesitate even though it was Susanna's house. I scrambled forward, shouting-
"Bomborda!" the front of the house exploded into dust and flying bits of material. I covered my head, ducking away from the chunks of rubble that flew outward, my heart pounding as a layer of dust settled on my robes. I stepped into the house, following the sound of the scream.
I knew, without a doubt, that this was not real, but I still winced at the chilling, shrill sound. It was Susanna's-my-mother.
"Who's there?" called a deep voice. My husband. Something seemed off about the two people I had just heard speak, but I couldn't form the connection, couldn't get my brain to jump over the broken bridge. Shrugging it off, I advanced through the cloud of still settling dust.
"Show yourself!" A deeper voice boomed. My father.
"There!" My mother shrieked, and I came into view-but she wasn't pointing at me. She was pointing at Voldemort, stepping out of the shadows. Neither of them saw me yet-
Voldemort's wand was snapped, and he held it up for me to see. A look of horror (fake) was shining through his dirty face.
So this was how it was going to happen.
"Avada-"
"No!" I shrieked. It was all happening so fast, I didn't know what I was going to do-I lurched forward, tripping and slamming into the wall.
Above me, the ceiling trembled, already weak from my earlier blast.
Before any of us could react, it crumbled.
To the floor.
Right on top of Susanna's mother, husband, and father.
They were dead.
I fought the urge to throw up.
This wasn't real.
This wasn't real.
This wasn't real.
My ears were ringing, I was horrified at what I had just done; I had just unintentionally killed-
No. No. None of this was real.
I took a dazed step forward, my ears ringing loudly from the crash.
I tried to convince myself that the accident which I had just caused…it hadn't harmed anyone.
And in the shade of saving the lives of thousands, three bits of illusion were nothing. They hadn't been alive before. It was like ripping a picture of someone.
"My master is more important than my family," My-Susanna's-voice fell out coldly. A chill ran down my back. How would Voldemort look upon this? In the chaos of everything, would he think I had brought down the section of ceiling on purpose, or…
I was shaking uncontrollably now, and failing miserably at steadying myself. Just illusions, my mind screamed at myself. Even though I knew this, I still could not bring myself to look at the pile of rubble concealing their bodies.
Thousands of lives, I thought again, and I began to calm down. Still, I wouldn't feel any better until we got out of this terrible, nightmarish illusion. Voldemort stepped through the rubble, smiling at me.
"You have proved your devotion to your lord," his wand was slowly mending itself, the dust and rubble around us were fading away. "It was very…interesting, what you did, bringing that ceiling down."
"What-what's happening?" I tried to act surprised, and confused as the scene around us fades and the snake-room comes back into view.
Now that we were back into the real world, I realized the oddity of the situation we had been in, the one fact that my brain had failed to grasp.
Everyone in that illusion had already been dead. Dumbledore had told me that they'd died long ago.
Waves of relief overrode my cold sweat, and I gradually began to forget about it. After all-it was just an illusion.
"That was a test," Voldemort said vaguely.
The snakes were hissing again.
"And did I pass?" I asked hesitantly.
"You did," he answered.
"To the old," Voldemort rose his wand up in the air like he was toasting the Silver-masked Death Eaters around our spot on the ground outside, oddly devoid of snow. The initiation ceremony. Maybe it was the circle of flames licking the air around us that had melted them, though the ground I knelt on wasn't wet. He stood over me while I tried my best to contain my terrible fear.
He looked down at me slowly- "And to the new." he pointed his wand at me, and so did the rest of the masked Death Eaters.
Suddenly, a terrible, searing pain thousands of times worse than the Cruciatus Curse-because it was all concentrated into one area- imposed itself upon my left arm.
I screamed and screamed, gripping my left arm and watching in horror as inky blackness scorched itself into the pale skin. I laid my cheek on the dirt, writhing, the orange flames circling Voldemort and me nothing more than an orange blur. I screamed louder still, not hearing anything else but the shrill sound.
It went on for a while-it could have been hours, or days, or years-I lost my grip on consciousness more than once-at one point I was seeing things-and then, it was finally over.
I felt perfectly fine now, the pain just a whisper of a nightmare that had receded the moment the light hit it.
I stood up to the roaring of the Death Eaters, and pumped my left arm into the air, showing off my dark mark.
Take this! I screamed in my head. You have a good witch, a follower of Dumbledore, not Voldemort, in your inner circle, and you don't even know it! Happiness filled me-I would be one of the first to know as soon as Voldemort hatched the plan of mass execution. And I would stop him.
They misunderstood my exuberance.
It didn't take long after that for Voldemort to start trusting me with more hefty things-he would consult me with plans, make me help them-but still no mention of attacking Hogwarts.
"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me," I sang softly, choking back tears as I flipped through my seventh year charms textbook in my room. I wondered what my family was doing now-they must be sadder than ever today that I had disappeared. January 30th. My eighteenth birthday. I was now officially of age in the muggle world. I skimmed the page with half-focused eyes, then went back to read it again once I realized I hadn't absorbed a word of it. I was sitting on the floor, my back leaning against my bed and the book propped in my lap.
Anepno-clears airway. If done incorrectly, side effects include...That was of no use to me, but I practiced the swishing motion several times, just in case it ever came in handy.
Falsa Decessus-stun your opponents with this death-mimicking spell! Target will appear dead (while really in an advanced state of paralysis)-
"Whoa!" I gasped, bolting upright and reading it again from the beginning, taking in every word.
-(while really in an advanced stage of paralysis) in which their heartbeat will slow to a rate that is undetectable. They will not be able to move from an hour to several hours, depending on the strength of the charm cast. Warning-This spell will result in memory loss after the target wakes up from "death"-they will remember only falling asleep for a quick nap. Misuse of this spell will result in-
My heart was racing rapidly, my hands shaking with excitement-Falsa Decessus! That was the answer! A grin was spreading on my face-if I could learn to perform the spell non-verbally, no one would know the difference.
The False Death spell didn't come in handy until a month later, and by then I had perfected it. If I could perform it on rats, it would work on humans, right?
I shot my wand over to a group of muggles that Bellatrix was descending upon. I had to get to them before she did-
FALSA DECESSUS! I thought with all my might, and the three cowering muggles crumpled. Bellatrix looked behind me, lip curled up.
"Stop stealing my muggles! I want to kill them!" she screamed maniacally.
"They're not yours," I said coolly, sparing a glance over her shoulder to where they lie, paralyzed.
"You've gotten wand-happy lately, Susanna," Bellatrix looked at me suspiciously, analyzing me like she could read my mind. I opened my mouth, but only a small squeaking noise came out. I had no answer.
Not wasting a second, I tore over to Antonin Dolohov and Fredrich Gibbon, where they had cornered a terrified old muggle lady.
I wasted no time. I thought the spell and she crumpled as well.
Stealing would-have-been victims decreased my popularity with the other Death Eaters significantly, but Voldemort's opinion of me was rising highly.
There was barely any snow here-the muggle town we had flown to was in the extreme southern part of England, and even the evening air was warm. Winter was thinking of changing to spring.
I darted from one side of the street to the other, Falsa Decessus-ing muggles when I could and putting out fires when I was too late to save their owners' lives. I always felt terrible after these muggle killings, like my insides were aching. But I had not harmed a single hair on anyone's head yet, and I wasn't planning to. When we finally returned, it was after nightfall. I looked at the faint dark mark on my arm-it was barely a shade over grey when it wasn't being used. I wondered for the first time if it would disappear when I became myself again.
I desperately hoped so.
Four Months later-late May
"I have been thinking," Voldemort continued, looking at each one of us across the table. I straightened in my chair, digging my fingernails into my palms. I had not been getting any sleep lately-Susanna's body was looking thinner than ever, and I had dark shadows under my eyes all the time. I didn't know how much longer I could keep this up.
"That it is time for the next step in our reign," Voldemort continued coldly. His skin was waxy, his facial features blurring between what they used to be and some other, inhuman and twisted shape. His eyes had an almost bloody look, and they were now red more than black. "Done with the muggle killings for fun, attacking prominent wizard families, weeding out opposition to us," he paused and my eyes slid to those on either side of me-Mulciber and Rowle. "Of course, we will still have these things, of course," he chuckled softly as if he had just made a joke. "But more importantly...we are going to make bigger attacks. And where, can all of you think, would lay my biggest opposer, the man who would raise children to believe that Mudbloods are just as good as Purebloods, and that we can be defeated," he spat and I tried not to shiver at the word "Mudblood." He never would have guessed that there was one in his midst.
"Hogwarts! Are we going to attack Hogwarts?" Bellatrix leaned over the table in excitement, long fingernails clawing at the wood.
"Yes, dear Bellatrix," Voldemort said calmly. Murmuring broke out over the table, but I kept my mouth shut.
"Silence!" Voldemort roared. "Do you doubt me, do you doubt my powers?!" He stood, voice booming murderously. "If anyone wishes to stay behind, they are more than welcome," he said in a silky voice which plainly meant, you will stay behind only if you are dead. Which you will be, if you oppose me.
"No, my Lord," whispers similar to this rippled around the table until the anger ebbed from Voldemort's eyes.
"What is your plan, my lord?" a big, brutal man named Travers stood, almost as eager as Bellatrix.
"We shall attack soon," he began, looking at me. "And, of course, we will not attack only Hogwarts, but the surrounding area as well so nosy ears will not get word right away that Hogwarts itself has been attacked. This gives us ample time to disappear. But once they realize..." Voldemort paused, relishing the idea. He had clearly had time to think this over.
"Then, why, it will be a pleasant surprise, won't it?" He gave a high, cruel laugh. "My favorite," his lips pulled grotesquely into a smile. "We attack soon. Three days, approximately. And, as some of you may know, apparation is impossible within the confines of Hogwarts," he stroked his snake and whispered to it in Parseltongue. It slithered across the table, tongue flickering rapidly until it slipped down, sliding out the door. "Therefore, we will be using Portkeys. We will surround Hogwarts from within a ten mile radius. And then, we will close in on them. For those of you who do not think our numbers sufficient," his lips pulled back into a smile once more. "You need not worry. For those in the castle who wish to fight with me, to be loyal to us, they will be given the chance to leave, to escape."
Werewolves. That's what he meant-Fenrir Greyback and his men would be joining in, I had a bad feeling. How was I to stop this?
I didn't sleep that night, either. I spent the whole night thinking, tossing and turning, and thinking some more. What made me different from all the other Death Eaters? How could I stop this?
"Think, Lily," Dorcas's voice echoed in my head. "You can fight a Portkey with a Portkey, can't you? They're using Portkeys to get themselves in...you can use Portkeys to get them out."
"That's brilliant, Dorcas," I thought back, smiling slightly. What made me different than everyone else? What did I know that no one else did?
"Randy, obviously," Sirius's voice snorted into my mind. "It's perfect-he owes you a favor. But how to connect the connect the dots, Lily? How to connect the dots?"
I thought hard. Portkeys. Fight a Portkey with a Portkey...
Finally, I had my answer.
"Randy?" I called, pushing the door to the side and shifting my heavy bag to my other shoulder. I had wasted no time at all-as soon as the pieces had fallen together into my mind, I had leapt up and apparated immediately. Knockturn Alley at night was risky for someone like Lily, but not someone like Susanna. Even the dodgier people here had seemed to give me a wide berth.
"Miss Susanna? Is that you?" Came a raspy voice from the upstairs of the shop. Not much about it had changed since last time, but it seemed to look shabbier and in even more disrepair in the dark.
"Yes, Randy, it's me. Sorry to come so late, but it's urgent."
"Late? My dear, it's only one o' clock in the morning! I'm still working! See, I had a feeling you would be coming soon," he met me halfway on the stairs, crinkling blue eyes reminding me of Dumbledore. He had gotten a haircut, and looked slightly better kept since I had last seen him, months ago.
"Well, you were right. I have a plan, Randy, and I assure you, it's for the good of everyone. Well, everyone except the dark wizards who are about to get a very raw deal," I said solemnly.
"Come upstairs, Miss Susanna. You must explain something to me. You have the look of a dark wizard, you wear the robes of the Death Eater and I know for a fact you are allied with Voldemort. But I also know for a fact you are brave, and kind enough to risk yourself to save a stranger. You seem to be two people at once. I do not understand."
"I'm still asking the same question of myself," I said softly, taking a seat in the low-ceilinged attack, crossing my legs and looking around at the various whirring tools. "It's a rather long story, really, one I'd like to tell you someday. Maybe."
He nodded, smiling and turning to his work. "I'll be waiting for that, Miss Susanna. And now, what is it that brings you here?"
"A rather large order I'm afraid, Randy. I only have the money to pay for a small piece of it."
"Nonsense! Favors will not be paid for!" He cried as if this was the most outrageous thing in the world. "I owe you whatever you could ask of me. Tell me what it is, and if it is within my ability, I swear to you, it will be done."
"Well..I'm going to need Portkeys. Lots of them. I don't know how many...but as many as you can make in...three days," I remembered Voldemort's estimate. There were maybe twenty Death Eaters Voldemort would be using, plus Fenrir's group...so..."Fifty, maybe," I cringed at the large order. He nodded slowly, taking it in.
"I can get that done in three days."
"When will you sleep?" I cried skeptically.
"I need very little sleep," he shrugged with no concern. "I can start now. Do you have items you would prefer to be the Portkeys?"
"I have a few things," I pulled my bag off my shoulder, opening it and dumping several various items on the table. "These things are normal, everyday items from the house we Death Eaters stay at. Too ordinary to miss, but familiar enough for them to try to pick up if they see them lying around in odd places...after all, curiosity is universal, right? For both good and evil."
"Quiet wise, Susanna," a smile spread across his face as he observed the five items. "But only five?"
"I was thinking we could duplicate them," I explained. "But it will have to be a pretty powerful charm so they don't disappear when the duplicating spell wears off."
"Making it into a Portkey will keep it from disappearing," he nodded, examining the items. I had a grotesque picture of a bunch of tiny muggles serving a huge wizard on a chair, a silver spoon with the mark of the Death Eaters on the handle, a Death Eater robe, an extra wand, and a small, empty cage that had been used for who-knows-what.
"And why, exactly, do you need these?" he asked, baffled.
"You already know I'm a Death Eater who isn't like other Death Eaters, don't you Randy?" I asked him in the simplest terms I could find.
"I do," he said, turning his head and duplicated each item ten times over. The items slowly piled themselves up on the table.
"Well...I can't tell you where, but the Death Eaters are going to attack...somewhere. And this somewhere...well, it would be really bad if they got in. So they're using Portkeys to get there, and when they get to their assigned spots...I'm going to fight a Portkey with a Portkey. That, and a bit of Psychology..."
"What's Sigh-kol-ogy?" he sounded out the foreign word.
"Oh-it's a muggle term. It's studying how to human mind works, sort of. Anyway, as soon as they get to their assigned spots, they're going to find these familiar items. And when they bend down to inspect them, picking them up-surprise! they'll find themselves halfway across the country. And they would be too far away to apparate back, and obviously Portkeys are only one-way. But just in case…I want to make sure they're stuck where they are. I need them trapped and unable to return, at least for a while."
"Interesting," Randy mused, his desk now full of fifty items. "And how are you planning to do that, exactly?"
"I'm working on that," I said slowly.
"I have spell books that you can look through, Miss Susanna. Mind, they're in very much disrepair, but you still might be able to get some use out of them. I'm going to begin now, so you may look if you wish. Right over there, those shelves. They're not Hogwarts level, those books, they're very advanced. I hope you're very good with magic if you find one of those spells of use to you," he chuckled softly.
I nodded, standing up and thumbing through the books.
Martyrdor's Spell book of Spells...Harmygossen's particularly Vicious Spells for Those who Wish to Destroy You...Sembryton's Joke Spells for Laughs...Galfalott's Mildly Harmful Curses For Enemies... I snatched the last two books, taking them down to the chair. I started paging through Galfalott's "Mildly harmful curses for enemies" first.
I thumbed through every water-logged page.
Small explosions and other tinkering noises were my soundtrack as Randy did who-knows-what in the background. But the book was full of unimportant spells. The closest thing was giving your enemy extreme boils rendering them immobile for days. "Mildly" harmful, to Galfalott, was what other people, sane people, would consider deadly.
Halfway through the Sembryton's "Joke spells for laughs" I came across something similar to what I had been envisioning-"Automatic Binding Spell! Astound your friends and family with this amazingly fool-proof spell! Bewitch any household object with the incantation below, and watch your unsuspecting victim's face of shock as they are immediately bound from head to toe with ropes! Note-Do not use on infants of small children. Augustus Sembryton and employees are not responsible for any damage including trauma, rope-rash or rope-burn, or any other side-effects caused by this spell.
"Randy! I've got it!" The words on the page were running together I was so tired, and my eyelids seemed deadly intent on closing themselves. It was nearly three o'clock in the morning.
I looked down at the incantation- "A capite ad calcem constrixi jute."
"That's a mouthful," he observed over my shoulder.
"But it's perfect," I grinned happily.
"Tear out the page, then, go on with it! Best be back before they realize you're gone, and get some sleep!" He cried, the silver spoon in one of his hands.
"Thank you so much, Randy!" I exclaimed, pulling out the page and moving to replace the books.
"No, no. I'll get that. You, go!" He ushered me out. "I've got three done, and I'll never get all fifty if I don't get my time!"
"Alright, I'll be back the day we leave!" I promised. "See you, Randy. Thanks again," a smile lit up his wrinkled face. A fleeting thought crossed my head-this man should be a grandfather, not some poorly salesman trying to sell his talent in a place like Knockturn Alley. He waved as I dissaparated, and soon I was back into my bed after I had hid the page with my secret spell on the underside of my bed between the wire frame and the mattress. I fell asleep in no time, with the illustrations of the binding curse etched inside my eyelids.
For the first time in months, I had hope.
jamesLOVESlily-thank you for your review! And James will re-enter the story very, very soon. We're talking 2-3 chapters or so.
A\N I am definitely not happy with this chapter so if you're all thinking wow, this is totally not believeable…I know. So please no flames.
-C