The Eye Of The Gazer
Chapter 15
Cho and Alan were tidying up at Cho's Chic after their last customer of the day. Cho looked very preoccupied, and Alan was about to ask her what was on her mind, when she said to him, "Do you have to go straight home tonight, Alan? If you can spare the time, I need to talk to someone." She looked over at his dear familiar face, noting the quizzically raised eyebrow, and laughed a little. "I'm sorry, Alan! I mean, I need to talk to you. Who else would I turn to?"
Alan did not need to leave immediately, so, after double checking the locks and wards on the door, they went upstairs to the flat, where Cho sank down gratefully into the cushions of her sofa. Alan made them each a cup of their usual camomile tisane, set the cups down on the coffee table, and sat in an armchair opposite Cho. Indicating with his head that she should proceed, Alan sipped his tea and waited for Cho to start speaking.
"When Bryony was taken to St Mungo's," she began, "I was so worried about her, I thought she would die." Alan nodded. This was not news; he himself had also been fearful of losing his little goddaughter, and had been unable to sleep while waiting for news from the hospital.
"Lucius was with me. He was very worried too. We – we were a sort of comfort for each other. Our concern brought us together. For a while, we forgot our differences. He held my hand, we waited together, hour after hour. Then he fetched Gabrielle Delacour, and she saved Bryony. I was so relieved, I almost collapsed with the release of all the worry and tension. It was worse because I'd been excluded from Bryony's sick room while Gabrielle was there."
Alan nodded to show he was listening, but he wondered where all this was leading. He knew all about Bryony's recovery due to some mysterious action known only to Mademoiselle Delacour and Lucius Malfoy.
"I was exhausted. The Healer said we should go home, as Bryony was sleeping. Lucius said he would escort me, and he did. When we got to Gildenford Hall, I was so tired he had to put me to bed. He would have left then, but I asked him to stay, I felt so lonely."
Alan raised his eyebrows at this. "And did he?"
"Yes. I asked him to get into bed and just hold me. He did. I fell asleep straight away. The next morning, he was still there, I woke up in his arms. Well – you can guess what happened next." Cho blushed.
"You made love, I take it? And was this a one-off, or are you and Lucius a couple again now?"
Cho sighed. "I thought we were a couple again," she said, "It all seemed to be going so well. He's been staying with me every night at the Hall, it's been almost like a second honeymoon – not that we had a honeymoon the first time." Cho smiled, but it did not quite reach her eyes. "But two days ago, I woke up early, and wondered what had disturbed me. Then I realised Lucius was talking in his sleep. He does that sometimes, so I thought nothing of it and tried to go back to sleep. Then I started listening to what he was saying.
"He was saying 'Jane' over and over, and then he said, 'Darling Jane', 'Sweet Jane'."
"And who is Jane?" asked Alan; for the Jane of whom he immediately thought was Jane Currer. He had met her only once, and remembered her as small and plain.
"I've been wondering about it, and I think it must be Jane Currer. I don't know of any other Jane."
"And do you have any evidence that it's her?" asked Alan doubtfully, for he would not have expected Lucius to give Jane a second glance. "How do you know she wasn't just a dream witch? Did you say anything to Lucius?"
"No, I didn't know what to say. I don't even know what to feel, if Lucius has been having some kind of relationship with Jane Currer or anyone else. It hurt so much when I heard him, I was surprised how much I cared. Really, he has the right to see anyone he likes – after all, we hadn't been together for three years. But – well - you know the reason we split up? He wouldn't let any woman look at him."
"And it hurts that finally, when he first let down that barrier, it might have been to another woman?"
"Yes. He knew I loved him. I told him the scars didn't matter."
"Maybe that's why, my sweet. She was a stranger, she had never seen him before. If a stranger wasn't repulsed, it would be some kind of confirmation that he could still attract women." Cho nodded slightly at this observation, as if it made some kind of sense to her.
"I've been trying to remember if there's been anything about Jane's behaviour that could confirm that I'm right."
"And have you noticed anything?"
"I don't know – the last time I really noticed her was when Bryony was taken to St Mungo's. Jane was waiting for us there. She was very upset about Bryony, but she explained to Lucius what happened without flinching. I wondered about it at the time, but then I forgot because I was so scared Bryony would die. Lucius can be terrifying when he's angry, especially to anyone timid – standing up to Lucius is hardly the same as standing up to a wilful six-year-old after all! But he was surprisingly gentle with her considering she was in charge of Bryony when she ate the laburnum peas. I expected him to shout at her whether or not he really blamed her. If they were having a relationship, that would explain why he didn't.
"But since then, I haven't really seen her, and she's in China just now with Neville." Cho explained about Neville's plant-gathering trip, and added, "I'm beginning to wonder if Jane went with him mainly to get away from me and Lucius for a while."
"Would she know that you're back together? How discreet have you and Lucius been?"
Cho blushed crimson. "She knows," was all she would say, "Everyone at Gildenford Hall knows."
Alan did not pursue the point. Cho was generally very open with him, he alone knew many things about her that she had never divulged to another, knowing that he would keep her confidence; but even between the two of them, some things were just too private for Cho to share.
"So what do you plan to do next?" he asked her.
"I don't know. That's why I wanted to talk to you. What do you think I should do?"
Alan thought for a while, inhaling the comforting scent of camomile. "I suppose you want to know whether you're right? Jane might have gone to China because she likes Neville, not to avoid Lucius, you know. But if you find out you're right, what will you do about it? How do you feel about Jane Currer? Would you want her to leave?"
"No!" Cho said this immediately, without thinking, then she paused as if startled by her own reaction. "Bryony adores Jane," she continued more slowly, "Jane is a good teacher, and I think she's very fond of Bryony too. No, I wouldn't want to lose her."
"Could you live with her in the same house if Lucius is shagging her?" asked Alan bluntly, watching Cho carefully to see if her expression belied her words. He saw a look of pain cross her face. It stayed in her dark eyes.
"I don't know," she answered truthfully. Alan considered carefully before he spoke.
"Then you have to decide first: which is worse? Not knowing, or knowing when the answer is not the one you want. Decide if you really want to know. And if you do, ask Lucius. It's much better that you should ask him than Jane, especially as the answer could be no. Jane is your employee, it wouldn't be fair to put her in that position."
Now the entity from the abyss had features, it had begun vaguely to resemble a man: those hollows of understanding might have been eyes, and vestigial ears had developed; but where its nose should have been there were only slits. It had a body and limbs, although it clung and crawled like an animal, not a man. With the development of its form came there a deeper loathing of the living, and a distant memory on the edge of consciousness that there were certain of the living on whom it should concentrate its hatred.
Now that it had organs capable of discerning light and shade, it looked ever upwards, instinctively seeking a source of brightness. It began to be capable of feeling physical pain. The sides of the abyss were not smooth as they had once seemed to an infinitely small being: now it had grown, it felt the sharpness of jagged edges digging mercilessly into newly developing skin, so thin and tender, and rubbed raw by the constant friction. Yet it could not pause to allow itself to heal; if indeed it would ever heal here, in this place of decay and despair. The hatred inside grew as the pain increased. It did not yet possess a mouth, else it would have cried aloud in rage and frustration.
At last it saw something far, far above: a distant pinpoint of light. With grim determination, it climbed onwards. Gradually it began to sense something else: emanating from the same source as the light was a magical field distorting the flux around it, so strong that its tendrils reached down here, far into the chasm, where the entity clung to the face of a vertical cliff. These tendrils reached into the embryonic mind of the creature, calling it inexorably onwards towards the heavy concentration of magic. The magic field bore the imprint of its creator, and the entity sensed that here was an enigma, leading to something unexplained and secret. The weavers of magic had left fragments of their identity at the magical site, fertilising the seeds of hatred in the creature's developing brain. Somehow, subconsciously, it recognised the field's creators, although it did not yet know even its own identity; and it seemed to the being that it had always known that they were the cause of its suffering.
Lucius Malfoy sat in his study by the fire, thinking. He considered it was a supreme irony that he had been celibate for three years, and now suddenly he had two women in his life. Was it not also a great wonder that this should happen now, when he was ravaged and scarred and no longer youthful?
It was also a greater irony that in the days when he had cultivated a harem of willing paramours, he had always confidently bestowed his favours as and when it suited him; and now when he had but two, for the first time he did not know what to do about the situation.
Cho he had always loved, all through those dark and lonely intervening years. He had driven her away, refusing to believe that such a beautiful young woman could still desire his scarred and ruined body. He could not tolerate the possibility that she had offered to stay with him merely from pity or a sense of duty; but when she finally left, he had felt as if part of himself were missing. Their reunion a few days ago had been a revelation: they were meant to be together, and he now believed Cho when she said she loved him. Their lovemaking had been a glorious physical expression of their mutual bond. She was his soul mate, his heart's desire, and also Bryony's mother: they could be a family again, should Cho agree to live with him once more.
But now there was also Jane: shy, quiet Jane, whom he had once offended by calling her plain. He loved her too, but in another way: he was grateful to her for showing him that he was still desirable, for looking him full in the face when so many women would not; for allowing him to make love to a willing female again after so long. He loved her for her obvious yet embarrassed delight in discovering the pleasures of which her body was capable. It was because of Jane that he had dared to agree when Cho had asked him to stay with her that night. It was because of her that he had allowed himself to respond when Cho subsequently indicated that she wished for more than his comforting presence. Jane's calm acceptance of his imperfect body had persuaded him that Cho might indeed truly feel the same way.
He had come to love her small person, her calm, measured voice, her fearless manner in his presence when intimacy was not involved, and even her stubborn refusal to alter her outward appearance except in private. There was indeed something very pleasurable in knowing that underneath those unflattering robes was hidden a very pretty body, for the delight of his eyes and hands only. He also thought that Jane loved him too, for he felt that she would not otherwise have allowed him to enter her; and afterwards, who would not fall in love with a man who pleasured her so? This last was not mere vanity, he had seen it in her eyes. Lucius felt protective towards Jane, and did not wish to hurt her. In many ways, she had a maturity beyond her years, but in matters of love and lovemaking, she was but a novice.
Lucius remembered that he had dreamt about Jane, even while sleeping in Cho's bed. Jane had abandoned him, and was receiving a proposal of marriage from another: it was the gardener Neville, with whom she had passed many a pleasant hour at Gildenford Hall. In his dream, Lucius finally knew who Neville was. He had scarcely registered the young man before, he had regarded him merely as part of the scenery when he took Bryony into the garden. Now, his subconscious had made the connection, and he realised that the muscular self-contained young wizard who now worked for the Changs was none other than a member of that group of Hogwarts schoolchildren responsible for his incarceration in Azkaban so many years ago. Lucius' upper lip curled as he thought of this. He remembered Neville trying to enunciate "Stupefy" over and over again before Bellatrix had tortured him. In spite of this maltreatment, the wretched boy had still managed to catch the prophecy the Dark Lord had wanted so badly, when Harry Potter had cast it away just as Lucius had thought it was finally in his possession.
In his dream, Jane had been about to accept Neville's offer of marriage, and Lucius had called out her name to stop her. He did not wish Jane to marry any other man, but the thought of her marrying Neville, that agent of his humiliation, was unbearable. Lucius could recall no further details of the dream, but this part was clear in his mind. He felt it was further evidence of his feelings for Jane Currer.
What was he to do now? He could see no solution that did not involve hurting either Cho or Jane. He stared into the fire, but saw no answer in the flames forming cobwebs before his eyes.
Lucius was unaware that his dream had been so vivid that he had physically called Jane's name out loud; that his cries had woken Cho, who had lain in the dark wondering at this revelation; or that they had also been heard by Jane, who had almost convinced herself that the cries were a product of her own confused imagination.
Instead, magic had been at work, for Jane had truly heard Lucius' voice articulating her name and each endearment precisely as he said it; he asleep in the chill dark early hours of an English morning, and she wide awake in the warm sunshine of a Chinese afternoon.
The creature approached the light. The goal once so distant was within its grasp, and it felt a small wave of triumph. Now that it had achieved a more definite shape, this thing was surely a man; but it was a man like no other, and any mortal regarding it would have shrunk back with fear, for it moved upon the face of the cliff like some crawling beast, its limbs moving in ways that any normal man would find impossible. Its skin was greyish and translucent, so that the newly formed veins beneath formed a bluish-red pattern of knots and branches. The face was like a mask, the skin stretched taut over the skull, the toothless mouth pulled into an expression of hate. But the most fearful thing was the livid scarlet eyes, with their cat-like pupils. These unblinking red orbs glowed like lamps in the darkness of the World Beyond, and remained fixed upon their target.
Now at last, the entity from the abyss looked into the light. It had reached the top of the cliff, and balancing on the edge of the chasm, it gazed from the shadow of the World Beyond into the brightness of the world of the living. It stretched out its senses. This was where the concentration of magic was the greatest: both around the window between the two worlds, and also in the place beyond. The being could sense the presence of another mind, around whom the magical field was very strong. This other mind was strangely unformed, and unaware of its own power; unaware of the distortion in the flux caused by its thoughts.
Red eyes adjusted slowly to the unaccustomed brightness, and the pupils contracted to mere slits. The world of light gradually came into focus, and the creature saw that the living body housing the magical mind lay in bed. It sensed that the person was asleep.
The situation was perfect.
The creature slipped through the window from the world of darkness and despair into the world of the living. Its body morphed into a snakelike shape so that its limbs should not impede its progress, allowing it to glide smoothly through the portal. It did not bother to change back, instead the serpent creature continued to glide, slipping under the bedcovers to lie alongside its victim. It raised its head, and the scarlet eyes stared at the human: here was a child, which explained the unformed mind; and this child's identity was sharply imprinted on the magic field, with a strong genetic link to those responsible for the entity's downfall. The power of her unrealised magical potential shone like a beacon at the centre of the disturbance in the flux.
The serpent creature moved slowly but surely, and wrapped itself around the child's sleeping form. The entity that had willed itself to gain a physical body now concentrated solely on its own and the sleeping child's minds. It thought itself into the far recesses of her consciousness. As it did so, the corporeal form began to melt into a thing of shadow, as insubstantial as smoke. The red light in the cruel eyes faded to pink.
The door into the room opened, and as the Mediwitch entered, a slight gust of air blew in from the corridor. For a moment, the witch thought she saw something in the bed beside her patient, but it must have been a trick of the light.
As the last few molecules of his latest body dispersed into the atmosphere, Lord Voldemort looked out momentarily through the eyes of Bryony Chang, and allowed himself a small feeling of victory.
He then withdrew to the far edge of her conscious mind, and prepared himself for a very long and patient wait: it would be many years before this child was old enough to be of use to him.
But meanwhile, he would remain hidden. Unknown to his involuntary host, he would watch and plan.