The characters and situations in this story belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and other entities, and I do not have permission to borrow them. No infringement is intended in any way, and this story is not for profit. Any errors are mine, all mine, no you can't have any.
Yeah, okay. Let me state first that I am new to this fandom and do not possess the proper encyclopediac knowledge thereof. This story stems from my muse being a perverse nonentity. I have had the invaluable assistance of two editors, but I probably slipped up more than once.
Speaking of, Cincoflex - as always - is my rock and enthusiastic supporter, and helped me straighten this thing out repeatedly, and put up with my going crazy(er) for most of January. Trialia generously Britpicked the manuscript with consummate attention to detail. Occasionally I ignored their excellent advice, so don't blame them.
Finally - last warning - with a fandom this enormous, I must assume that everything has been done already. The only excuse I have is that I haven't read it. Any unoriginality is completely accidental.
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The morning brought cool, diffuse light, tea and toast to replace his untouched supper, and the necessity of changing.
Draco had managed to find plain clothes among his father's garments; they were a trifle too short at wrist and hem, but the white shirt and under-things fit well enough. Severus decided that the trousers would do without magical alteration, and his coat was still clean. He grimaced as he buttoned the latter; dead men's clothes were hardly his first choice of attire, and the lack of his wand to perform even the most menial freshening charm was a physical ache.
But the garments were clean, if redolent of Lucius' clove cologne, and Severus knew that he could not spend the day in the guest suite. Bellatrix would take it as cowardice, and come hunting him.
Besides…I have something to offer.
Severus ate his breakfast, wondering idly just how house-elves knew exactly what wizards wanted to eat at any given time, and went to find Draco. The boy was sitting in his suite, managing to look sulky and enraged at the same time, but the snarl slipped away when he saw Severus at the door.
Severus didn't bother to enquire if he'd eaten. "You said yesterday that Bellatrix wants Arithmancers."
Draco nodded jerkily, and Severus inclined his own head. "Perhaps, then, we can help her find what she needs."
"Really?" Draco looked torn between hope and distaste, and Severus guessed that he was feeling much the same conflict - the Slytherin desire for self-preservation vying with the stricture that one did not let a rabid animal roam free, even into someone else's yard.
Severus shrugged. "Arithmancy may not be one of my talents...but Bellatrix doesn't know that."
Draco blinked. "You...that's a dangerous game to play."
"It will buy us time. I doubt she realises that no reputable Arithmancer will believe her request, let alone take it on." Severus waved the issue aside for the moment. "If I'm to be an Arithmancer, I'll need data. Where is this mirror?"
"I'll show you." Draco rose hastily to his feet, as if desperate for something to do. Severus followed him down the big staircase, missing his wand desperately. I hope it doesn't occur to Bellatrix to wonder why I'm not in Azkaban with the rest of the Death Eaters.
Draco took him down through the main part of the house, which had been redecorated since Voldemort's occupation, Severus saw. The cellar door was gone, leaving a singed frame and a set of half-melted hinges. But they could not pass through; the wards barring their way were strong enough to sting when Severus tested them with one hand.
"This won't do. We'll have to ask Bellatrix for access."
Draco swallowed, colour still gone, and Severus took pity on him. "I'll speak with her. But we had better go together."
They found Bellatrix in the manor's echoing ballroom, lying on her back on the floor and shooting out the crystals on the chandelier with her wand; glassy shards lay everywhere. Severus ignored the crunch underfoot and strode over to her, Draco trailing behind. "Draco tells me you need an Arithmancer. I am willing to offer my services," he said without preamble.
Bellatrix glared at him, rolling smoothly to her feet and keeping her wand in her hand. "You're an Arithmancer?"
Severus looked down his nose at her, not bothering to mask his disdain. "I am." The lie fell easily from his tongue. "Your little problem...appeals to me. But if you want my aid, you must let me examine the mirror."
She tapped her wand against her thigh, eyes narrowing, but he let no hint of doubt show. I have lied to one far more dangerous than you. You do not frighten me.
"What do you want?" she said finally.
"Your good will." Severus gave her a mere hint of a cool smile. "And perhaps...should I succeed...the opportunity to prove my loyalty even as you are proving yours."
Bellatrix's mouth twisted in doubt. "How do I know you won't betray me?"
Severus tapped his left forearm. Behind him, Draco spoke up. "I can vouch for him, Aunt Bella."
Her eyes, dark as Severus' own, didn't waver from his face, but finally she gave a short nod, tossing her head in disdain. "Very well. Come along."
She took a different path back to the cellar door so as to collect one of her minions. This led them through the breakfast room, and she giggled when Draco circled around the charred spot on the floor. Severus merely stepped over it as if it were beneath his notice.
The mirror was in a room far back under the manor; Bellatrix led them through the main cellar and through two more doors, both of them blown open from the inside. One at least would have been invisible from the outside, Severus saw.
The rooms they passed through held a variety of shrouded shapes, which he ignored. Lucius had possessed quite the treasure trove despite Arthur Weasley's best efforts, it seemed, but it really wasn't Severus' concern at the moment.
The mirror was a large one in a swivel frame, the wood smooth and without carving; a dust-sheet lay crumpled to one side. The thing was easily large enough to accommodate the passage of a human body, Severus noted, though he himself would have to duck to pass through. The glass looked ordinary enough as they approached, but it reflected only the room and its contents; their forms were entirely absent.
Severus looked it over ostentatiously, then pitched his voice to the note he had used on recalcitrant fourth-years. "I require my wand."
Bellatrix snarled. "Why?"
Severus rolled his eyes, making sure she could see him do so. "For measuring. The equations require dimensions precise to the micrometre if I am to produce the results you desire."
He held out his hand without looking at her, knowing that the least hint of uncertainty would have her turning on him like a starved mink. A moment later, the cool smoothness of his wand weighted his palm.
The feel of it was edged with the taste of smoke, telling him that Bellatrix had attempted to somehow bespell or hex his wand, but Severus pretended not to notice. Nor did he give a hint of his utter relief at having it back in his possession. Instead, he ran a standard set of measuring charms on the mirror, adjusting for fine detail. He wouldn't have any idea what to do with the data, but it would look good.
When the information was gathered, he considered his next move, hiding it in a contemplative stare at the mirror. A true Arithmancer might want to remain near the object, so as to adjust the equations on the fly, but Bellatrix would never leave him alone with it.
I'll have to risk it.
"That will do." Severus spun on his heel and started back towards the front cellar, leaving both Draco and Bellatrix scrambling to catch up. "I shall return to my room and begin the equations."
Bellatrix's face lit up with a manic hope that made him feel queasy; she'd swallowed the lie whole. "You can do it!"
"I believe I can," he allowed. "But it will take some time. The equations will be extremely complex." When Bellatrix reached for his wand, he snapped it out of range. "I will need it for my work."
She…pouted. The expression made him briefly dizzy; he hadn't realised how much the balance of power had just tipped. "Oh, very well, keep your precious wand," she said, and whirled away, skipping ahead of them.
The suite assigned to him included a small study, and Severus set up the equations there, watched by one of Bellatrix's two minions. The hulking brute had been detailed to guard him, and Severus didn't dare protest, reflecting sourly that it was certainly better than having Bellatrix herself breathing down his neck - both proverbially and literally, knowing her. The minion merely made himself comfortable on a brocade love-seat, ostentatiously propping his boots on the arm and sneering in Severus' general direction.
However, teaching teenagers inured a man to many things. Severus dismissed the brute from his attention and went about turning the mirror's measurements into a convincing tangle of equations, glowing slightly as they hung in the air of the room. He had no fears that the man would expose his chicanery; anyone who had followed Bellatrix blindly through a mirror was hardly overly endowed with brains.
Severus spent a few hours pacing, muttering, and prodding the equations with his wand, changing a value here and there and once pulling the whole thing apart and starting again - playing his chosen role to perfection. Finally, well and truly bored, he whirled on the minion so sharply that the man sat up, whipping his feet off the furniture and all but backing away. "Tell me," Severus said, "about your world."
"Uh - I - what?" the man stuttered, and Severus folded his arms across his chest and glared.
"Tell me. About. Your world," he enunciated slowly. "I need more data. How is it different from this one?"
"Well - dunno." The man shrank back against the love-seat. Severus sighed audibly.
"Think. You are capable of thinking, are you not? Madam Lestrange is dead in this world, alive in yours. I am dead in your world but alive in this one. What else is different?"
Truthfully, he didn't think the thug could have learned much about any differences, cooped up in the mansion ever since he'd come through, but it had been a long time since Severus had had a good rant at someone and he decided he might as well enjoy himself.
"Well, you ain't a Death Eater at home, I can tell you that!" the minion said, gesturing at Severus. "Great bloody hero back when the Dark Lord fell, but dead all the same."
Curious as he was about his other self, Severus didn't pursue the idea; he didn't want anyone's attention drawn to him, even a thick-headed follower like this one. "Very good. What else? How did the Dark Lord die?"
He managed to pry a somewhat muddled description of the battle at Hogwarts out of the man, but it was all second-hand. Murt Mallowe, as he gave his name, had been assigned elsewhere at the time - guarding a Bellatrix who had taken a strong blow to the head from the falling chandelier at Malfoy Manor. Much to her intense bitterness, she had not recovered her senses until after it was all over.
"An' right furious she was, too," Murt went on, shuddering. "There was three of us, you know. To start with, I mean."
"Mm." Severus could just imagine. Bellatrix always was careless with resources. "Continue."
He gained little more besides the fact that it had been Draco who had killed Dumbledore and the somewhat startling fact that the hero of the day was the Girl Who Lived. The notion made Severus blink, but upon reflection it seemed as likely as anything else. The question of how Dumbledore would have reacted to that almost had him snickering.
Though one part of his treacherous mind had to wonder what Lily's daughter might have looked like. How much of James would translate to a female face? How much would be her mother's delicate beauty?
At some point during Murt's rambling, Tosk brought a substantial tea, and Severus let the man continue in his litany of complaints and irrelevant tangents as they ate. It was an enormous temptation to simply stun the man where he sat, but the wards were forever in the back of his mind. If I can only get a few moments of privacy…
It came simply enough, when Murt belched, stood, and muttered something about needing the loo. His eyes fixed on Severus' wand, but Severus unleashed the glower that had had lesser Death Eaters backing away, and Murt seemed to think better of trying to take it.
When he'd vanished into the rather plush toilet of the guest suite, Severus shot locking charms at its door and the one leading to the hallway, and with the strange mixture of pain and joy that had always accompanied the spell, he cast his Patronus.
The doe was as luminous and vivid as ever, cupping huge ears towards him and waiting. Severus spoke rapidly, deciding to go straight to the top - a Patronus was not something anyone could ignore. "Shacklebolt, Malfoy Manor has been invaded and warded by renegade Death Eaters. You'll need a large team with a curse-breaker." He let out a breath. "Lucius is dead."
That would do; no mention of Bellatrix, but enough warning. With a gesture, he sent the doe on her way, then removed the locking charms.
When Murt emerged from the toilet, Severus was examining his equations once more, borrowed clothing neatly Transfigured to fit and no hint of the Patronus about him. Now it's just a matter of time.
When the windows darkened with nightfall, Severus decided he'd had enough of fake Arithmancy for the day. Time to reassure Bellatrix. "Where's your mistress?" he snapped at Murt, who jumped.
"Er…probably with 'er sister." When Severus started towards the door, Murt barred his way. "I need to take your wand. Sir," he added involuntarily when Severus glared.
Severus thought about refusing, but the wards wouldn't permit him to win a conflict. "Very well." He gave it up, masking the discomfort of watching it pass into the thug's hands. "But I expect it back in perfect condition, is that clear?"
Murt flinched and bobbed his head, and Severus let himself sneer as he turned back to the door. Minion.
He didn't see Draco on his way to the east wing. The door to Narcissa's rooms was wide open this time; Narcissa looked as though she hadn't moved since the day before, though her robes were different. Bellatrix sat opposite her, a teacup in her hand, chattering away like a crazed magpie.
Severus paused outside the door, drawing concealment about him like his own cloak; low-level wandless magic that had served him well countless times. Bellatrix was rambling in the high-pitched babyish voice he'd always despised. "…always said I was…it's an honour you know, and they're always jealous. Don't you think so, Cissy?"
Narcissa sipped from her teacup and smiled blankly at her sister. "Of course I do, dear."
Bellatrix nodded, evidently soothed, but she looked oddly to Severus like a puppy or a child, in desperate need of reassurance. He wondered just how much the loss of the master she'd served so long had unhinged her. She must be completely lost without direction, without someone to believe in.
Unfortunately, it probably made her more dangerous rather than less.
He let the concealment disperse and cleared his throat sharply. Bellatrix jumped, springing out of her chair and bringing up her wand, but Narcissa barely seemed to notice.
"I've begun my calculations," Severus said in a bored tone, as if Bellatrix were still sitting comfortably. "But they will take at least two days to complete."
"You can change it?" she half-whispered, wand lowering.
"I can try," he corrected her. "It may take several attempts to find the world you desire."
Eagerness, anger, fear all flickered over her face; she was beyond concealing any emotion now. Finally her features settled into a sort of delighted rage. "Good," she said, and threw the teacup straight at him.
He tilted his head to let it fly past, not flinching as it hit the doorframe and the shards pelted his shoulder. "Now get out!" Bellatrix screamed, and swept her wand upward. Severus found himself shoved back out the door, which slammed shut with an echoing boom.
He caught himself against the far wall, cursing silently at his loss of balance. Don't be stupid, that could have gone much worse.
Severus found Draco in the main hall, pacing around and around, glancing up the stairs at every turn. When Severus came down them, Draco hurried over. "She's with Mother, isn't she? Is she hurting her?"
Severus held up a hand. "No. They are…having tea."
Draco glared at him for a long second, then let out his breath. "Truly?"
"Truly. I don't think she intends to hurt Narcissa, Draco, and she has your mother so deeply enchanted that Narcissa can't possibly say anything to set her off." Severus shrugged bitterly. "As much as I hate to admit it, she is probably safest as she is."
Draco said something that would have gotten points taken from Slytherin at Hogwarts, but he didn't argue. "If only I could see her."
Severus shook his head, glancing back up the stairs to make sure that Bellatrix was not approaching. He kept his voice low. "I managed to get a message out."
Draco gaped at him, the sudden hope drawing his face tight. "How?"
"Never mind that," Severus said as he heard a door slam open above. "Just be prepared to act should the need arise. And control yourself," he added sharply. "Do you want to give us away?"
Draco schooled his expression hastily back to sullenness as Bellatrix appeared at the top of the stairs, adding genuine fear as she came sweeping down them.
"Oh, there you are, Draco," she said with acid sweetness. "Mummy sends her love."
The boy had stepped back, half behind Severus. "How is she, Aunt Bella?"
"She's just fine," Bellatrix said, starting to circle them. "She's dreadfully worried about her baby boy."
"I - I'm worried about her too," Draco said, turning as she walked around them. Severus kept his face expressionless, though uneasiness was starting to churn his stomach. Bellatrix was looking for a target.
"You should be. You're a good son, Draco, aren't you? Looking after Mummy?" She was still circling, grinning malignantly, leaving Severus feeling like a pivot point.
"I…try." Severus heard him swallow. Bellatrix tapped her wand against her palm, releasing a few sparks, but didn't stop.
"You fail," she said, voice suddenly hard. "She told me all about it, you know. How you were supposed to kill Dumbledore."
Draco flinched, hard. Severus' stomach clenched. That particular memory hadn't gotten any easier over the years.
Bellatrix's attention shifted to Severus. "But you did it instead. You killed him. You used the Unforgivable."
"That should assure you of my trustworthiness," he retorted, stepping away from Draco in hopes of keeping her focus on him.
"I admit, I didn't think you had it in you," Bellatrix said, sauntering closer. Behind her, Draco scuttled towards the big fireplace, currently cold and empty. "But why defy the Dark Lord so?"
Severus looked down his nose at her, though movement in his peripheral vision told him that Murt and the other thug had entered the room, no doubt summoned by Bellatrix. She wants a show.
"I didn't," he replied. "The Dark Lord expected Draco to fail. I was there to make sure his plan succeeded."And the old man begging for that last act, that last betrayal, that last honesty; had Dumbledore remembered how it hurt to kill?
"So strange," Bellatrix breathed, closing in on him. Her eyes were gleaming, insanity and fascination, and he realised that in her mind she was being seductive. "So strange to see the one who brought down the Dark Lord his strong right hand instead."
He couldn't step back without offending her, so Severus put on his most forbidding aspect instead, and chilled his voice to ice. "Clearly I was wiser in this world than in yours."
"Were you?" Her wand rose, trailing up the front of his coat, the tip weaving back and forth until it reached his throat, his chin, his lips. "Were you? He is dead, and yet you live."
Severus reached up and wrapped his fingers around Bellatrix's wrist. The heat of her skin made his own crawl, but she didn't react, even when he squeezed. "To my eternal regret."
Just why it was true, she had no need to know.
"I don't believe you," Bellatrix whispered.
In that moment, Severus knew her paranoia had overtaken her. He braced himself for whatever foul spell she was planning, but two things happened at once: the wards on the cellar door blew spectacularly, and Draco took three long steps forward and smashed the vase he held down on Bellatrix's head.
The next moments were shouting confusion. People poured into the hall from the cellar, wands drawn - Aurors, he recognised some of them, though the direction they'd come from baffled him. Bellatrix reeled back, staggering over the shattered porcelain; Draco, horrified, pressed himself against the wall to avoid her; the minions began firing hexes at the invaders.
Severus' crisp Accio brought his wand from Murt's pocket to his hand, but as he raised it three separate hexes hit Bellatrix at once, and she crumpled. The wards dissipated, the windows shattered, and still more people poured into the room. More Aurors.
Some of them the same Aurors.
Both of the minions were down under body-bind curses. Everyone else was looking extremely nervous, wands at the ready, and Severus filled his lungs. "I think," he said loudly, "that the crisis has passed."
Heads turned to look at him. He saw two versions of Sally Budge, both dressed almost the same, and one dark-haired figure who moved exactly like Potter - except that across the room with the group from the windows stood Potter, most definitely. Gawain Robards, next to the boy, lowered his wand cautiously.
"Got your message, Snape," he said. "Mind telling us what the bloody hell is going on?"
Severus let his spine relax for the first time since the house-elf had taken his hand. "You're not going to like it."
"We already don't," said one of the Aurors from the cellar, a tall, beefy man. "But we got what we came for."
And he had gotten definitive proof of Draco's claims, Severus saw. He counted at least three Auror duplicates among the cellar group, presumably from the world Bellatrix had escaped. "Mr. Malfoy, perhaps you can best explain."
Draco pushed himself away from the wall, leaving smears of blood behind; porcelain was sharp. "I - I - " His back straightened, and his chin rose. "Of course. Will you see to Mother?"
And there, Severus thought, was the adult he'd been hoping Draco might become. He surveyed the group that had come through the windows. "Who's the curse-breaker? Ottlo? Come with me."
Severus half-ran up the stairs, not pausing to see if the witch followed him, though the sound of her feet told him that she did. Behind them, voices rose in question and exclamation, but not in alarm, and he trusted the two groups would behave themselves.
Certainly he didn't want to be the one doing the explaining.
The door to Narcissa's rooms was wide open. Narcissa herself was limp in her chair, unconscious, and Tosk was standing on the tea-table, chafing her hands and making distressed squeaking noises. It looked up as they ran in. "Guest of young sir! Help! Please help!"
Ottlo dodged past Severus to drop to her knees next to the chair, wand already moving. "Hmm, yes, yes…oh, that's a nasty one…"
He ran his own diagnostic, but it told him little more than that Narcissa's faint was not natural. The house-elf was still squeaking quietly, wringing its hands, but it didn't try to interfere. Severus felt a fleeting moment of sympathy for it; he was useless as well.
Ottlo sat back a bit, then glanced over her shoulder. "Out of range, please," she said calmly.
Severus grabbed the house-elf by the scruff - not too hard - and backed away. It kicked and squeaked louder, but didn't Disapparate, so he assumed it understood and set it on its feet next to him. Ottlo performed a very complicated motion with her wand, muttered something that didn't include any vowels, and tapped Narcissa.
Who gasped, convulsed, and opened her eyes. And screamed.
"It's all right! It's all right, Madam Malfoy," Ottlo soothed, but Narcissa shrank away from her. Tosk bounced over, laying a hand on Narcissa's knee.
"Mistress is well! Mistress is safe!" the creature beamed. Narcissa stared at it.
"Tosk?" she said weakly, and then turned her head. "Severus! What - "
"Tosk is correct; you are safe," he assured her. She didn't look as if she believed him, but before he could continue Draco tore past him, falling to his knees next to Ottlo.
"Draco! Oh - " Narcissa reached out, enfolding him, and Ottlo grinned and pushed to her feet.
"We'll let them get that out of the way," she said to Severus cheerfully.
"She'll be all right?" he asked, vaguely amused at the way the house-elf was bouncing in place.
"She will be. Most of that was backlash when the spells on her failed." Ottlo folded her arms, wand sticking up over her shoulder. "Was that really Bellatrix Lestrange down there? I thought she was dead."
"She is," Severus said shortly. "Excuse me."
The two groups were mingling when he returned to the great hall, most of them talking animatedly. The three captives were so bound in ropes as to make them almost indistinguishable, and were laid out against one wall. Old habit made Severus search for Potter among the lot, finally spotting him across the room talking to someone of equal height and equally dark hair. The figure moved, turning - her - head, and Severus froze as the pieces fell into place.
Oh yes, there were the leaf-green eyes, Lily's brilliant eyes, the same as Potter's. Over them rode a scar identical to the boy's. But instead of Lily's features Severus saw dark, fine hair drawn smoothly back; a thin-lipped mouth; a proud nose.
It was a peculiar, dizzy moment, filled with a ringing hush, and the only real sound was the small sardonic voice in the back of his head, commenting that at least Lily's blood had made his forbidding features into something cleanly beautiful.
Lily.
Her head turned; her green eyes saw him, and widened; her thin lips moved, mouthing an incredulous word. Father?
I have no children, was all he could think. Severus turned on his heel, and fled.