Disclaimer: JKR owns everything and I don't.
Chapter 3
Flashback
They twirled across the marble dance floor, perfectly in sink with the music. From across the room, Alexander watched her with narrowed eyes, drinking in her perfection. In his opinion, she was clearly the most beautiful woman in the room. Ismene's dark hair was swept up in an elegant twist, showcasing her long, alabaster neck, and her deep brown dress robes brought out the color of her sparkling eyes. Over the sounds of the orchestra, he could just make out the light, musical sound of her laughter, and Alexander found himself clenching his fists in anger. She should be here with me, he thought to himself. It drove him mad to see her in another's arms, smiling as if she hadn't a care in the world. He wanted to rip her from the bloody moron's grasp, and wrap his arms possessively around her. Someday, it will happen, Alexander thought idly.
The animated couple danced past him, and amber met blue. He quickly and nonchalantly inclined his head towards the entrance hall, as he held her gaze. Her smile at her partner never faltered, but Alexander saw the flash of understanding in her eyes. It took all his strength not to grab Ismene's hand right there and pull her out of the room. Instead, Alexander excused himself to his fellow Syltherins and headed out of the Great Hall.
His steps echoed loudly off the walls as Alexander walked quickly towards his rooms. As Head Boy, he had a private suite in the upper levels of the castle. Striding through the portrait of Merlin, he tossed his outer robes on an armchair and paced back in forth in front of the fireplace, awaiting Ismene. She appeared a few minutes later, a slight flush on her cheeks, and looking in high spirits. Ismene smiled warmly at Alexander, as he crossed the room quickly and took her in his arms.
"And what's this all about?" she giggled.
"Nothing…I just wanted to see you."
"Liar." Smoothing away a few stray, curly dark hairs from his face, she laughed, "You just didn't like seeing me dance with Weasley."
"While that is most definitely true, I did in fact wish to see you," Alexander answered, a small grin playing on his lips.
"Why?"
"So, I could dance with you." Alexander took her hand in his. "May I have the honor?"
Ismene's eyes widened. He never ceased to amaze her. So dark and angry towards the outside world, but with her…with her he was every bit the opposite. She placed her other arm on his shoulder and allowed him to lead her in a silent waltz across the wooden floor of his private common room. He gazed down at her, adoringly. Ismene seemed to lose herself in his eyes. They were simply mesmerizing, the purest, deepest blue. It was like being swallowed whole by the calming waters of the ocean.
End Flashback
That night seemed so long ago, as if it hadn't even taken place during this lifetime, Ismene thought bitterly. Her head ached savagely from the most recent beating she had endured earlier this afternoon and her stomach growled from the lack of food. Careful not to jar her shoulder too much, Ismene rolled onto her back and stared up at the pockmarked, stone ceiling of her cell.
She knew change was in the air. The guards had been especially brutal the past few days, and she had seen scores of lifeless bodies being dragged past her cage. Spring cleaning one guard had referred to it as. This could only mean that her days here were slowly dwindling to an end. In a strange sense, she actually welcomed the idea of death. To be free of this tortuous existence would be a blessing. However, once upon a time, this had not always been her rational of thinking.
Ismene was never quite sure when it had happened, but during the latter stages of her relationship with Alexander, she had felt herself believing a different future was possible. At night, curled up in his strong arms, she found herself thinking that perhaps the Potter boy would eradicate the Dark Lord and Alexander and she could be free to love one another openly. She imagined a different life…a life without an alias and with him. Even in the bleakness of her present situation, the picture she conjured of him presiding over the breakfast table, reading the Sunday papers in the library, and playing with their dark-haired children brought a smile to her cracked lips. He would be a good father, terribly strict but very devoted. Their sons would look just like him, tall and handsome in an aristocratic way. Each child would attend Hogwarts, and when they eventually settled down and had a family of their own, they would all come to tea on Sundays so that Ismene and Alexander could dote on their grandchildren.
A soft sob escaped into the darkness of the cell, as Ismene tried to put these pleasant images from her mind. It would never be. Not now. It was towards the end of the school year, when the Dark Lord and his followers attacked Hogwarts. Alexander had warned Ismene and told her he could provide her with sanctuary. No one ever need know of her existence. She could still see the earnestness in his face as he made her promise to meet him in the Forbidden Forrest. But, of course, she had never made it there.
Despite her love for Alexander, Ismene knew she had a duty to warn Professor Dumbledore of the impending attack. The aged Headmaster had thanked her and alerted the Order, but they had underestimated the number of Death Eaters that would be involved. Lord Voldemort and his followers slaughtered the opposition and those that survived left early in the battle in order to spirit Potter into hiding.
Ismene had just returned to her rooms, when Gryffindor Tower was blasted open. A large Death Eater stunned her as she stood gaping at the portrait hole, and she had fallen unceremoniously to the ground. She wasn't sure how long she was out for, but when Ismene regained her senses, her hands and feet were bound. Wiggling around, she could make out a number of bodies spread out on the crimson carpet around her. Some wore shocked looks and were bound as she was. A few stared glassy-eyed at the ceiling, and she knew these to be dead. Ismene had recognized the same lifeless look that she had seen on her parents' face in death. Several adults in black cloaks prowled amongst the rows of boys and girls, requesting names and blood status. When Ismene was approached she supplied her pseudonym and answered muggleborn to the second question. It was a definite risk she was taking, but Ismene figured they would be more likely to kill off the muggleborns right at Hogwarts. In this manner, she hoped to avoid any encounters with her aunt or uncles. She was only too sure that Bellatrix's torture would be worse than a quick Avada Kedavra.
Flashback
Ismene's father hurriedly apparated into the house and placed her down gently, whispering, "Good girl."
"Reduald, what are doing back so soon? I wasn't expecting you for nearly another hour," Cassandra remarked as she entered the small living room.
Running towards her mother, Ismene giggled, "Mommy, I saw a stranger that looked just like Daddy today!"
Cassandra's head snapped up and she wore a fearful expression as she spoke to her husband. "What? Was it one of them?"
"Yes. It was Rabastan. I don't think he got a good look at Ismene, but he definitely saw me." Silence engulfed the room, as Reduald wrapped a worried Cassandra in his arms. After a moment, he placed a kiss on her forehead and said, "We must leave and soon."
"Do you think they will come here?"
"I don't want to chance it."
End Flashback
"Oy, what are you two doing down here on a night like this?" Goyle asked as he lumbered down the dungeon hallway towards Montague and Pucey.
"Do we need a reason?" Adrian drawled, lightly fingering the handle of his sheathed wand.
Goyle sneered and spit on the ground. "It's not often members of the elite grace us with their presence."
"If you wish to maintain your current existence, I would suggest you continue on your way," Alexander growled fiercely.
Pucey gave his friend a mildly perturbed look before returning his attention back to Goyle. "Listen Greg, it would be a shame if anyone found out about that incident between your sister and the mudblood…I don't think your parents would be too excited to learn their only grandchild is in fact a halfblood and not Crabbe's." Adrian smirked, knowing how much Gregory Golye cared about his only nephew.
"You wouldn't," Goyle challenged, fear evident in his expression.
"I'll forget I even mentioned it as long as you forget seeing us," he answered confidently, gesturing to Montague and himself.
With a sneer and a grunt, Goyle moved past the older men and continued into the depths of the dungeons. Alexander took the lead and headed left towards Ismene's cell.
hr
Ismene could just barely make out the dark shapes moving around her, as she tried to push the cobwebs from her eyes. She felt lost within a deep fog, a fever coursing through her body, causing her body to drip with cold sweat. Strong, calloused hands pulled her upright and brushed damp hair off of her face. A wave of dizziness swept over her, and she felt herself struggling to remain erect. As she stumbled, the hands came back and held her forcibly in place. Through the heavy fog in her brain she tried to comprehend what was happening and prepare herself. Where they going to rape her again or beat her? So much torture had been reaped upon her broken body. She just wished they would kill her and be done with it. Then maybe she would have some peace at last.
"She's sick," a gruff voice whispered.
"I know," someone answered curtly. "Here put the invisibility cloak on her while I hold her still."
The voice seemed familiar and Ismene tried to work out its owner. If only she could see them clearly. Ismene tried to turn her head, but her captor tucked it securely against his chest.
"Please be still, Ismene. I promise it will all be over soon."
This time the voice awoke a million memories within her and she knew at once who held her so firmly. "Alex," she croaked.
"Shhh! Tell her to be quiet, Montague."
"You need to be silent, love," he soothed, as he smoothed his hand over her greasy, tangled locks.
He mustn't do this! It will be his death! But Ismene could not longer fight back. The dungeons had taken their toll on her and she collapsed against the soft fabric of Alexander's cloak.
"Where is she?" screamed a shrill voice. "Are you sure it's her?"
Hearing the approaching voices, Alexander glanced up in horror at Adrian. Adrian shook his head and quickly hid the invisibility cloak inside his robe. The cell door banged open and the torchlight from the hallway illuminated the maniacal face of Bellatrix Black Lestrange. She stopped abruptly, shocked at finding the other two Death Eaters in the cell with the lifeless body of a young woman. Behind her appeared the faces of Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange, and Severus Snape.
"What are you two doing in here?" she asked menacingly.
Alexander stood up, his shadow falling over Ismene. "Pucey and I were attempting to interrogate this prisoner, but she fainted before our questions were answered."
"And just what were you inquiring about?" Bellatrix slipped into the cell like a Black Widow spider, her beady eyes never leaving Montague's face.
"We have reason to believe she is not a muggleborn, but a pureblood hiding behind a false name."
"Really," hissed Rodolphus, as he came up behind his wife. "And just where did you procure this information?"
"I was able to deduce it from the ramblings of a former Hogwarts Professor and Order member that I had the privilege of entertaining the other evening," Adrian drawled.
"Snape is this true?" Bellatrix asked curtly.
Severus Snape gazed at his two former pupils wondering if they spoke the truth. He knew Pucey had been involved in the torture and killing of Professor Flitwick two nights ago and that both he and Montague appeared to serve the Dark Lord faithfully. Unfortunately, Severus had played the role of a spy for too long. He knew even the most dedicated servants could be hiding their duplicity. However, this did not seem to be the case. He nodded, confirming their alibi.
"Fine. We'll take her to the Dark Lord together."
"You haven't even looked at her yet, Bella," Rabastan reminded his overzealous sister-in-law.
Bellatrix reached down and grabbed the girl by her hair. Thrusting the young woman's face into the light, she laughed, "Tell me she isn't the spitting image of Cassandra."
Rodolphus and Rabastan looked at their niece, shaking their heads in agreement. Rabastan thought it was as if she was a ghost. Ismene reminded him exactly of how Cassandra had looked the first time they met on the Hogwarts Express, long before she enticed Reduald away from their family. Ismene had clearly inherited Cassandra's long, dark cascading curls, little nose, and a heart-shaped pout. If and when she opened her eyes, he was betting they would be the color of golden amber.
"Cassandra?" Alexander inquired, careful to keep his tone even. His expression remained blank, hiding the pain that was tearing away at his insides. How could he save her now that Bellatrix knew she was alive?
"My dear sister-in-law, Cassandra Alana Margarite Fellows," Rodolphus answered curtly. "The one and only reason there are no longer three Lestrange males alive today."
"Pick her up," Bellatrix ordered.
Rabastan stepped forward and slung Ismene's small body over his shoulder. "Gods, she smells like a bloody toilet!"
Bellatrix fingered a lock of Ismene's hair, her face flushed with delight. "Looks like she's had quite an adventure down here in the dungeons. Silly, little girl, thinking she could ever escape my notice. Come, we'll take her to the Dark Lord now."
Adrian gave Alexander a meaningful glance before following the Lestranges and Snape out of Ismene's cell. The group made their way through the dungeons and up into the hallways of Lord Voldemort's stronghold. The doors to the receiving hall were open and several Death Eaters were crowded around the Dark Lord's throne. Voldemort eyed the group with interest and gestured for them to step forward. Montague bowed low and kept his expression blank as Rabastan dropped Ismene to the ground like a rag doll.
"And the meaning of this?" Lord Voldemort inquired, gesturing at the unconscious form of Ismene.
"Forgive the intrusion, my Lord," Bellatrix soothed. "We have found my niece."
Voldemort gazed down at Ismene's bruised body with interest. "Reduald and Cassandra's daughter?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"How very interesting." The Dark Lord twiddled his long spidery fingers. "It appears that she has been the recipient of our fine hospitality," he mused. Pointing his wand at her, he hissed, "Ennervate."
Ismene twitched and then slowly sat up. Her eyes opened wide, her mouth hanging open in shock as she took in the scene around her. Seeing the Dark Lord she blanched in fear and Bellatrix let loose a mad cackle.
"What is your name, child?" the Dark Lord questioned, his eyes glowing like hot coals.
Ismene hesitated and then whispered, "Ismene Lestrange."