*walks in with a sorry excuse for a tan and Snape in –gray- (as JK informed us) trunks* *Snape notices the crowd and charms himself fully dressed* Oy, I am now running a serious risk of being hexed into the year 3000. *scowls*
People, I am on –vacation-! That means I might not update! Sheesh! All those e-mails! Anyway, here is one more instalment, but I warn you, I don't know when the next one will be. *hands Snape a pina colada to appease him, gets one herself* anyhow… let the story continue.
Oh and for the record: I have read OoP, but I will continue in the plotline I have thought of, only taking a slightly parallel trajectory to the actual book where it fits. Okay? No new characters will be introduced, to avoid spoilers and odd characterizations. Some things like Occlumency, I will use nonetheless, but as I see fit. If you don't know what that is, it is probably already in the lexicon or something.This said, let's *hit play*
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Nothing Professor Snape could tell Blaise could ever be possible for the sheer terror that she felt when she portkeyed with Crabbe and Goyle to Voldemort's gathering. She was trembling like a fish out of water, and her two companions were, too. It was a special gathering that they were going to today, they and a few other select initiates into Voldemort's Death Eater group. Blaise rehearsed over and over in her mind everything that Professor Snape had brainwashed her with, all the answers to the possible questions, all the guidelines to possible traps, all the grovelling that would appeal to the red-eyed embodiment of the wizarding world's terror.
Her stomach churned with potions that she had been ordered to ingest, her heart burned with hatred and fear, her mind was taking in the surroundings with more alertness than if she were thrown into a pit full of snakes- which, in all truth, she was. In the semi-lit stone room a circle of black clad figures had formed. Each Death Eater held one initiate in front of them for presentation. Nobody spoke, and the white masks shone eerily cold and unfeeling all around her. What in Merlin's name have I gotten myself into? I can't do this!
"My loyal Death Eaterssss…." came the slightly whistling slur, and as if someone turned a switch, Blaise stopped feeling anything. She didn't feel fear, or hatred or cold or apprehension. In fact, she could as well have been under Imperio. Perhaps it was the intricate mind link Professor Snape had established with her, so that she would be able to use his expertise with Occlumency, perhaps it was only her instincts of survival, or just her fear passing the point of being able to be felt. She bent her head just as everyone did, and focused on her shoes. There was a speck of mud on one of her sneakers.
"You have brought to me new members that wish to cleanse the world of tainted blood. Have you tested them for their allegiances?"
The Death Eaters answered all yes in various levels. Voldemort walked lazily around the circle of immobile people, his robes slightly rustling. Nagini coiled herself in the middle, the upper part of her body swaying like a hypnotizing cobra. The Dark Lord stopped at points, looking at the youths shaking in front of him, not daring do anything with him so near. Some, he touched with his bony, long, white fingers; others he did not pay even the slightest amount of attention to.
But he stopped when he came to where Blaise was standing.
"It is Zabini's daughter," Nott, the Death Eater her father had been buddies with, said to introduce her, probably at a questioning glance from Voldemort.
"Ah." said Voldemort, and moved on. Blaise did not kid herself that that was it. When he was finished with his inspection, Voldemort went to stand next to Nagini, that was still swaying in that silent dance. "Bring forth the first one," he purred.
It was a boy with sandy hair that Blaise didn't know and was quite certain she had not seen in Hogwarts. He stood alone where the Death Eater holding him by the shoulders guided him.
"Look into my eyes," Voldemort ordered in a soft, velvety voice, "and tell me, do you want to serve me?"
"Y-yes, my Lord." the lilt suggested that the boy was from Durmstrang, Blaise thought.
"How much? How dearly are you willing to pay for your servitude to me?"
"An-anything, my Lord."
"Anything?" Voldemort smiled like a skull. As the boy was nodding, he said gently "Crucio."
Blaise shuddered, believing that the boy's screams would haunt her forever. How would she be able to tolerate this over and over? Not even counting the fact that it would be she that would be doing the screaming quite a bit of the time. Remember your vengeance. Remember mother.
The boy whimpered, curled on the floor, and Voldemort bent over, two long fingers under the boy's chin so that they would lock gazes again. A small amount of time passed, and Voldemort's eyes seemed to search into the pained ones of the boy. Then he straightened up, pointed his wand at the trembling figure and said Avada Kedavra.
"I hope the next one will be worthy." he said simply, pushing the body to the side. He motioned for Nott to guide Blaise to the spot the other boy had been. Remember mother. Remember vengeance.
"Look into my eyes," Voldemort said.
And now forget it all.
***
Snape paced in his quarters, gritting his teeth, holding his left forearm close to his chest, clutching it periodically, as if that would relieve the pain. For once more in his life, he felt useless. He had not been able to dissuade Zabini from doing what he could no longer do. He had been unable to convince Dumbledore to convince the girl; although he had seen the flame of rage in the slytherin's eyes, he had seen that she would go on even without guidance, and that she would not last even through the initiation.
And now he could feel through the mind link her terror, so reminiscent of his own when he had been in her place. Why couldn't it all have ended on that day before Christmas? Why didn't I use the Golems to squash him instead of deactivating them immediately? A stab of pain from his Mark stopped Snape's ruminations, and in his rage, the Potions Master smashed the first vial his hands could reach on his forearm. Then he felt Zabini's feeling swell in her mind and cloud her thinking again- he shut his eyes and gently prodded her to let them go, pushing back her subconscious, away from Voldemort's Legilimency. The pain from the small shard in the soft of his flesh and the urgency to protect Zabini's mind consumed Snape. He virtually insulated her mind from her feelings, speaking softly orders. And now forget it all.
***
"Will you serve me, Blaise Zabini?"
"With my heart, my soul, my body, my Lord." Blaise answered, and put all of her fervent eagerness to pass the test behind her words. The sentiment was evident in the tone of her voice, and the sincerity was blatantly clear in her mind.
"Will you do as your father did?"
"Better my Lord." she breathed, taking in her own words, sealing her promise.
"And what of your mother?"
"I did not have the chance to kill her myself." she answered the well-practiced line, and added the venom she needed easily- it swelled in her heart abundantly, even if the target was not her mother.
"Give your life to me now, Blaise Zabini." challenged Voldemort.
"Gladly, my Lord." she reflexively said and got out her wand, hoping that she would not have to go through with the order. However, the alternative did not bother her all that much in the state that she was at the moment. She gasped as the cold, dead fingers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named clutched her hand, taking her wand from her.
Now will come your final test. Brace yourself, but not too much.
She expected to be subjected to an Unforgivable, but instead, Voldemort took her other arm as well- the left one, and he offered it to Nagini, the soft side up. The big snake sank her fangs into Blaise's arm.
The pain was blinding, and she didn't hear the dark spell chanted by Tom Riddle. Then it seemed to subside only to be replaced with an even greater pain- Blaise felt her arm had been severed- and then it was gone, a small throbbing echo left behind as a memento. She opened her eyes- tears streamed, and she looked at the abhorrent marking that now stood out on her tender flesh. You are in.
***
Draco sulked appropriately in the Slytherin common room, as Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson drawled and showed off about their successful initiation to the circle of the Dark Lord. Draco had not thought possible that Crabbe and Goyle could put together such long sentences as 'It was awesome' and 'Look how cool it is!' and the like. Zabini brooded and looked down her nose hautily, refusing to say anything more than 'it was just the way a gathering of a real leader should be'. She did not make eye-contact with Draco, and he sneered.
"It's so bad that you couldn't come along, Draco," Pansy cooed, but with a considerably less amount of worship in her voice. Draco had lost quite a bit of his prestige when his father was imprisoned.
"Dumbledore is breathing down my throat, and I wouldn't be surprised if everyone else in the teaching staff is, too. It's too risky to have the mark burned in."
"But you used to say you would risk everything for the Dark Lord!"
"And I will. But I am more of use to him unmarked and free, than marked and imprisoned. There is already one Malfoy in Azkaban." Draco drawled. "But I wouldn't expect you to understand about politics, Parkinson. So bask in the glory of the newly initiated and try not to look too triumphant outdoors; we wouldn't want your prettiness expelled and persecuted, now would we?" Draco grinned, showing all his shiny white teeth like a carnivore before battle. His eyes flashed, and Pansy shrank away to go show off elsewhere. Draco leaned back, watching Blaise. She was the only one he respected for taking the loathed branding on her forearm. He wondered if he would ever have the guts to do anything remotely courageous. Draco sneered to himself. He doubted he was made of a crust as fine as that.
Then, the Slytherin Head of House walked in the common room, on his way outside. All conversations died down when he entered, and the already cold room became icy. The new Deatheaters, and those that aspired to be, looked at him with death in their eyes. Professor Snape sneered at them and walked out in the majestic billowing of his cloak, the door closing loudly behind him. Parkinson gathered Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise around her with a poisonous, conspiratory smile. She motioned to Draco, but he rolled his eyes and draped himself even more in the armchair he was in. He was not up to another round of Mark showing off topped with badmouthing Snape as traitor, when he was just the same.
***
It was daybreak on what Harry felt would be a grand Sunday morning in early February. The birds chirping had woken him up as always. He shifted in the bed and immediately he felt the slithering weight of Sasha, coming up his leg over the coverlets, past his midsection, on the bed and then around his wrist snugly.
"Good morning, Sasha," Harry smiled as he sensed the cool band settle in her usual place. Sasha had become as close to him as Hedwig, perhaps even more so, because through Sasha Harry could still have some semblance of vision, when he needed it. He stroked the triagonal head, and felt the forked tongue lightly touch his fingertips.
"Good morning, Harry." the snake replied. Harry didn't want her to call him Master. He sat up in bed and stretched, then got up, felt around and pulled on his jeans and sweater- the right size and quite warm and close fitting. Sirius had bought him a whole wardrobe to suit his needs, both of wizarding and muggle clothes. He smiled, thinking of Sirius and wondered if he would still be trying to clean out the age-old family house that had not been inhabited for almost a decade now.
Harry had put on his school robes and gotten his cane ready to leave the room to go practice for an hour or two before the students woke up when he heard the faint flutter of an owl's wings. Next came the tapping on his window by the bird's beak. Frowning, Harry directed himself to the window and felt for the latch. As soon as he had opened it, an owl flew in.
"Hedwig?" he asked, but the owl's hooting was not Hedwig's voice. Harry stretched out his hand and he felt the talons of the bird as it landed there. He stroked the feathers at the owl's breast and allowed his hand to trail down to the legs, where eventually his fingers touched paper. He took it and the owl flew away before he could fish into his robe pockets for a token. Harry got out his wand and pointed it at the parchment, spoke the spell he needed, then pressed his fingers on the surface to read it.
Meet me at Moaning Myrtle. Please.
Harry frowned again, as there was no signature. He smelled the paper- the ink was the usual student ink, and he could not sense out anything different.
"Sasha, was the owl from the school?" he asked in Parseltongue.
"It wasss brown and cream. Probably." the coral snake replied.
Harry decided to answer the note's summons, but not before he had gotten with him some insurance. Gently he tapped around and got out of his room. He directed himself easily to the other prefect's room: Hermione Granger. He murmured the password and got in. Gently he guided himself towards the bed, and cautiously felt around the pillow area for Hermione. His hand brushed against her shoulder and he shook her gently.
"'Mione… wake up."
He smirked when he heard a soft gasp and a shuffle.
"Harry, I am not dressed!" a slightly shocked and sleepy Hermione said, shrinking away from his touch.
"Your point being?" he asked sardonically and chuckled at the embarrassed silence from his friend. He straightened up and back stepped. He was, most of the times, amused when Hermione forgot he was blind. It also strengthened his confidence, because if she forgot that fact, it meant that she was not reminded.
"Well, what is the matter?" she asked. Harry heard her shuffling about, probably getting dressed.
"I got this. I thought I should not go alone, just in case." he offered her the note in her general direction. The note was taken from him.
"It could be a trap. Should we wake up Ron?"
"Then Seamus and Neville might wake up too. You know how Ron is startled when woken up. I don't think whoever sent this to me wants everyone to know."
"Fine. Let's go together then. I hope that it won't mean I will miss my revision before breakfast, though." Hermione said bossily. "I'm dressed."
***
When they entered the bathroom, only Blaise was inside. It was not a trap.
"I meant for you to come alone, not with company." Blaise snapped when she saw Hermione.
"She can be trusted, Blaise, and I did not know it was you."
Harry heard her take in her breath sharply. Hermione was silent, probably staring at the slytherin girl.
"I guess you are right. You can't trust an unsigned note." Blaise trailed off and paced.
"How can we help you?" Hermione asked, eyeing Blaise's bandaged left forearm suspiciously.
"I don't need your help. Go back to bed." Blaise replied. Hermione huffed, but Harry cut them both off in his calm, serious voice.
"Hermione is here because I asked her too. Perhaps I think –I- need her help, at least. Tell me, did it go well?"
"If you call it well." Blaise muttered.
"What went well?" Hermione asked.
"Tell her, Blaise. She can keep a secret. She knew about Professor Snape, and earlier about Professor Lupin's lycanthropy when nobody else did." Harry encouraged.
"I'm a Death Eater." Blaise said bluntly, and as Hermione gasped she smiled grimly and proceeded to say how she entered Voldemort's service in order to spy for Dumbledore now that Snape's cover was blown. She also added what her motive was, on Hermione's prodding. "But I think I will need more help now. I need to learn things that aren't taught to 5th years."
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, but Blaise turned to Harry.
"Harry Potter, you are the best in Defense against the Dark Arts. I saw you in the Triwizard Tournament, and you have faced Voldemort more times than anyone I know and you are still alive. I want you to teach me."
"Me?" Harry said, taken aback. "Wouldn't Professor Lupin be better? Or Professor Snape, he taught me-"
"I thought about it. I can't ask Professor Snape for more than he is already doing- he is teaching me Occlumency and keeping a mind link for the while I am still learning. And you have fought Voldemort- I want you to show me how it feels."
"You can't know how it feels. It is not something that is taught. You can't know how it feels to have your life depended on what you will chant in the next moment, on how lucky you will be or if your aim is right, or if you predicted right. You can't simulate that." Harry said, swallowing down his emotions, fully prepared to turn down Blaise's plea. There were adults around to do this sort of thing.
"I have just gotten a good idea, Potter." Blaise said dryly, and Harry shivered, feeling suddenly slightly guilty. He was not the only one that had a lot to handle considering Voldemort. He tried another tactic.
"The Triwizard tournament was – I was sighted then. I am blind now." he said with quiet spite, perhaps because he was pushed to verbalize a fact that still hurt him deep down. Deep down, Harry still ached for having to tap around, use a snake's eyes and cast charms to read and write. He suspected he would always do.
Blaise was silent at that, but oddly enough, Hermione came to her support.
"She's right, Harry. It doesn't matter that you can't see; you proved that many times, and during Hogwarts Attack, you fought Voldemort with no vision at all! What happened last Christmas will happen again and it will be worse, and we all know it. This time the students will have to fight too, and I want to be prepared too. I will help you; and you will teach me too, and perhaps Ron as well. We need to know, and what's more, Voldemort won't expect it. You are even more qualified to help us now that you are blind, don't you see?"
"No, I have some trouble seeing," Harry said acidly. "Hermione, I have enough on my plate as it is now! Don't make this even harder!" Harry's voice escalated for the first time since September.
"At least think about it, Harry Potter." Blaise said. "You can answer me with an owl, but only this early. I'll consider you turned my plea down only if you have not replied by next weekend. But will you please think about it?"
Harry was silent, chewing the inside of his cheek. He could not make a decision now, and he could not refuse Blaise- not when she would be running risks as high as Professor Snape did.
"I'll think about it." he admitted grudgingly.
The slytherin girl walked past, but paused at the exit to the bathroom.
"Hogwarts isn't safe anymore, Potter. You are a target; everyone is, really, and I won't be able to warn you all like I did Professor Snape. So think really hard." she said grimly and was gone.
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That's that! And yes, since this is now AU, it goes parallel to the book somewhat. *watches everyone squirm abour a certain someone that dies in said book* mwa ha ha ha! And what is this warning Blaise gave Snape?? hm… *cackles*
Okay, that's it. I will answer reviews when I finish vacations, okay? See you all! *walks out with Snape to resume tan*