Chapter 14: The Visit
The pain was growing worse by the second. Her Dark Mark throbbed with an urgent, icy heat. She knew that if she didn't respond within a few minutes, she'd be able to smell her searing flesh, and the pain would emanate outwards until despair encompassed her--body and soul.
She reached for her robe and, with it, her wand. As she stretched out her left hand for it, Snape looked down, expecting to finally see her Mark blazing black against the white flesh of her inner arm. But still, it was not there.
He wanted to ask her about it again, but anyone could see she was in agony. So he grabbed her robe and handed it to her. She threw it around her shoulders and reached for the wand in her pocket. As she pulled it out, Snape asked, "What are you doing?"
"I'm disapparating. I have to go to Voldemort," she whispered, barely able to catch her breath, much less get the words out.
"You can't disapparate from here," he said.
"What do you mean?" cried Addy in dismay, desperate to answer Voldemort's call and stop the burning as quickly as possible.
Snape looked at her sadly, wishing he could do something for her. He knew how it felt…the driving torment that threatened to obscure all reason, the mad dash to the gate, the single-minded desire for relief. "No one can apparate or disapparate within the Hogwarts grounds," he said, grabbing her by the arm and leading her out of his office. "Nobody told you?"
Addy shook her head and gazed at him pleadingly. She was again clutching her heart and her eyes held a torrent of pain.
"Come on," said Snape, pulling her through the Potions classroom and out into the Hall. "Wait a minute," he said, coming to a sudden halt. He leaned over to look her in the eye and said clearly, "Wait here, I'll be right back."
Addy nodded and leaned on the cool stone wall of the corridor for support, as Snape disappeared back into his classroom. She hoped he'd hurry.
Snape dashed around his office collecting a few items that would be useful, then ran into the storeroom at the back of his Potions lab. He knew each shelf and bottle like the back of his hand, and made a beeline for the one he wanted. Grabbing a small flask filled with a milky white liquid, he expertly decanted a bit into a vial, neatly inserted a stopper, and ran back out to Addy.
She had waited for him without moving, although every second felt like an eternity. He handed her the vial saying, "Drink this, and let's go." She could see that he had two other items stuffed under his arm, but she couldn't tell what they were.
Addy took the vial and raised it to her lips, but something deep and old inside her stopped her from drinking. No born-and-raised Death Eater would ever simply accept a strange liquid from someone else—particularly from another Death Eater, reformed or not. In moments of stress, like this one, the old ways ingrained in her since before she could remember resurfaced. She eyed the vial, and then Snape, with suspicion.
"What is it?"
"It will make you feel a little better. Not much, and not for long, but it will help a little," said Snape. The longing to do more for her could be heard in his voice, but not by Addy, who was too busy listening to her Father's voice in her head as he reproached her for being too trusting…too naïve.
"What's in it?" she asked again, looking at Snape through narrowed eyes.
"Oh for Merlin's sake!" he hissed, running his hands through his hair. He was trying not to be too impatient with her, because he knew this was just an old habit gasping for one last breath.
He'd had them too, when he first came. In fact, for nearly a year after he first arrived at Hogwarts, he would take food only from the same platter as Dumbledore, and would pour himself drink only from the same pitcher as Dumbledore had used. The rest of the staff had grown weary of passing the laden dishes back and forth across the table, when there were perfectly good platters of food right in front of Snape. Yet they knew he would need time to adapt to a safe and trusting environment, so they wisely gave him the space he needed. The day finally came when he tentatively plunged his fork into the lamb chops on the platter set before him, rather than asking for the Headmaster's. The staff had watched with bated breath as he eyeballed and sniffed at it, before digging in and eating the whole thing with relish, reaching for a second helping and then a third. And that was the end of the passing of food. Over the years, from time to time, whenever one of the staff members wanted to get under his skin or remind him just how far he'd come, they would teasingly refer to "The Great Lamb Chop Breakthrough." Snape would have smiled at the recollection, if the present situation hadn't been so dire.
Unfortunately, Addy didn't have the same luxury of time as he'd had with the lamb chops. So he tried to inject his voice with as much kindness and tolerance as possible, saying "Do you want me to explain the entire recipe and brewing process, while you pass out from pain? Or will you trust me, so we can get you to Voldemort?"
Something about the sound of his voice summoned her reason from its hiding place, and it quickly won out against habit. She knew in her heart that she could trust him, so she lifted the vial and downed it in one shot. In a way, she was lucky that she was in so much pain, for it blotted out the awful taste of the potion he'd given her. Within instants, the fiery grip on her heart eased a bit, and she found that she could stand straight again.
"Let's go," said Snape, "that stuff will wear off much sooner than we'd like, and Voldemort is waiting for you." He grabbed her hand and led her down the hall, in the opposite direction from which she had approached his door. He must know another way out, she thought.
Snape pulled her along unwaveringly, through dark, snakelike corridors that Addy could swear she'd never noticed before. At the end of the last corridor, they came to a heavy, arched wooden doorway that appeared to be completely sealed, with no latch or knob of any kind. He spoke an incantation, and the door swung open into a vaulted tunnel.
With a sharp call of "Lumos," his wand lit the way. He had to duck to keep from hitting his head as they rushed along the wet flagstones. Addy could smell the dewy, earthy fragrance of outdoors growing stronger, as she rushed forward, her hand gripped firmly in Snape's. She suddenly remembered the moment they'd shared just before she had felt Voldemort's call. 'Of all the rotten timing!' she thought to herself.
In a short while they sprang from the tunnel into the heavy, pungent night air.
Then Addy discovered what one of the items under his arm was, as he swiftly shrouded them both under a large, shimmery piece of fabric. Snape spoke to her in a strong, clear tone, hoping to give her strength and something to focus on besides Voldemort's burning invitation. "I'll escort you to the gate so you can disapparate. Now that the students are here, you'll need to use an invisibility cloak whenever you are summoned. We don't want anyone asking too many questions about why you and I are always coming and going."
Addy nodded again. The pain was making its encore in nauseating waves, robbing her of her voice. She could see that the exit Snape had chosen was not exactly secret—the tunnel could be seen plainly from the outside—it was just little-used. From the tunnel exit, a path stretched out before them, cutting through the carpet of lawn that stretched across the back of the grounds, and leading straight to a gate in the great stone wall that bordered the school. It was not too far ahead.
She was doubling over again and nearly collapsed against him, as he propelled them both across the perfectly clipped grass. He kept one arm firmly around her waist as they loped along under the cloak, and she let her head sink against his chest. This close, she could feel the sinewy power of his body underneath his robes…the sturdy quadriceps at the front of his thigh stretching and contracting as he dragged her along, the steady rise and fall of his torso, the way his arm encircled and pressed her solidly to him.
She held on to him with all the strength she could muster. He whispered into her ear, reviewing the past few days she'd spent at Hogwarts and reminding her of the details she could and could not share with Voldemort. She willed her mind to cut through the pain and tune in to what he was saying.
Voldemort must have been growing impatient, because Addy suddenly felt a scorching blade drill through her heart. Stumbling with the pain, she nearly brought them both to the ground. Snape's face creased as though he were feeling every bit of her agony. Bending down to lift her, he offered, "Let me carry you."
But Addy managed to croak out, "No!" and pushed him away. She would not allow herself to be hauled away from Hogwarts like a broken doll. Clutching her robes, she gritted her teeth and forced herself to straighten a bit so she could walk properly. He never let go of his tight hold on her.
When they reached the gate, Severus opened it and ushered her through to the other side. She reached for her wand as he pulled out the last item he'd retrieved from his office. It was a black woolen scarf, which he began wrapping around her neck.
Addy was only faintly aware of what he was doing at first, but when she fully realized it, she shook her head and started unwrapping it from the other end. Snape said, "Take it. Have you forgotten how cold it is at The Compound? You'll freeze in those summer robes."
She shook her head again and tried to push him away as she unwrapped it. "Damn, you are a stubborn witch!" he shouted. At the sight of the rejection in his eyes, she summoned the last of her strength, licked her dry lips, and croaked, "Can't…he'll know it's not mine…he'll smell you."
She finished unwrapping the scarf and held it out weakly to him, managing a small smile of gratitude. He knew she was right—what had he been thinking?—and took it sadly from her. She took a few steps back and withdrew her wand from the pocket of her robe.
"I'll be right back," she whispered, with another wan smile and a feeble wave. And in the next second, she was gone. Snape reached his hand out slowly to the spot where she had stood, and closed his fist on empty air.
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In the next instant, Addy was kneeling on a cold stone floor in a barren antechamber. The sound of the far-away clock in Snape's office was now replaced with the persistent plunk-plunk of water on granite. Her heart was immediately freed of its painful vise, and her head began to clear.
Addy recognized the room—it was round, with an arched doorway on the far side from where she knelt. A heavy black curtain hung down in front of the doorway—on the other side, Voldemort would be waiting for her.
As she blinked her eyes and stood up straight, she became aware of an enormous snake, coiling around her legs. The snake moved quickly with the exquisite grip and pull of a thousand tiny muscles, and in seconds it had imprisoned her in its reptilian embrace. The massive head slithered over her shoulder and came to rest against her neck. The snake's head was larger than her own, and, with its hinged jaws, could easily devour a person three times Addy's size.
"Hello Nagini. It's good to see you again," she said, pressing her cheek against the beast.
Everyone thought that Nagini—Voldemort's giant pet—was a monster. But Addy knew that she was just a very large creature with a very small brain. It wasn't Nagini's fault that Voldemort nourished her on the bodies of his victims—she was a carnivore, after all, and she had to eat. She was basically another prisoner here at The Compound, just as Addy had been.
Addy had known Nagini since she was a little girl, and the reptile guarded and protected her as if Addy were her own offspring. Nagini was the only one with whom Addy could converse in Parseltongue--the language she'd been born knowing—and had been her sole playmate throughout her childhood. Everyone had marveled at the little girl who seemed to have tamed the monster. But all Addy had ever seen was a sweet and gentle, if misunderstood, giant.
"It's so good to have you back," said Nagini. "I've missed you."
"Nagini! I've only been gone a few days!" laughed Addy.
"Is that all it's been? This place seems so empty and quiet without you," Nagini replied sadly, and Addy wished she could take her back with her to Hogwarts. She wondered what would become of the snake when—or rather if—her group managed to defeat Voldemort, and mused that Nagini would make an excellent companion for Hagrid.
"How are you?" asked Addy.
"Hungry, as usual. But other than that, Master has been in moderate spirits lately, so all is well," answered the snake, coiling a bit more with the excitement of having her friend back.
Nagini's "hug" chased the wind from Addy's lungs, and she coughed out, "Hey, ease up a bit! I'm happy to see you too, but that's quite a squeeze you're giving me!" They laughed together as Nagini reluctantly released her friend and slithered back down to the ground.
"Let's go see Voldemort, shall we?" said Addy brightly, hoping to mask her anxiety. She was glad to have had a moment with her old pal, to reorient herself to her former world and catch her breath before facing the one who had called her there.
She steadied herself and walked across the chamber to the archway, parting the curtains and stepping into Voldemort's throne room. There he sat at the far end of the room, as expected, his scaly hands poking through his robes as they rested on the arms of a massive chair. A large, empty fire pit sat in the center of the room, it's coals dark and cold, and Addy felt the chill of the room course through her. Snape had been right, of course. The place was like a frozen tomb.
As he looked up at her, a gleam shot through his tiny, crimson eyes, their black, diamond-shaped pupils contracting and dilating. Addy bowed her head in the customary manner, stretching her neck as far as it would go until her chin nearly touched her chest. "My Lord," she said, trying her damnedest to sound reverent, rather than disgusted. "You called?"
"Ahhhhhhhhh," he said, the sound rattling in his throat, "my little Adder has returned."
He always called her that.
"So good of you to come, and so promptly!" he continued. Come here and sit with me for a short while…I shall not keep you long." He beckoned to her with one scabrous finger.
Addy lifted her head and approached him with a smile. She knelt down in front of him in her usual spot, and as she rested her head on his knee, she heard his parchment-like skin crunch beneath her ear. He began to run his fingers through her hair, and Addy could hear his long fingernails scraping against her scalp. This close to him, she had to force herself from gagging at his sulfurous stench.
Addy knew that, when "conversing" with Voldemort, one did not speak unless asked a direct question. Only her father could get away with interrupting or challenging him. So she knelt there quietly for a few minutes while Voldemort petted her head, an activity which he always seemed to enjoy. She saw Nagini slither into the room and curl up in front of the fire pit, across from her.
Finally, he said, "So, how are you finding Hogwarts?"
"It's horrid," she replied enthusiastically. Then she added casually, "But I do feel that my presence there can do you some good."
"And the old fool? How is he?"
At this, Addy looked up at him, gazing into his slitted nostrils. "He seems weak, My Lord. I had expected him to be much stronger. When the time comes, he will not pose much of a threat to you." Addy hoped to diminish Voldmort's expectations of the resistance from Hogwarts, and give him a false sense of confidence.
"Ah, yes, my pet. But he has hidden powers that perhaps you can not see."
They sat in silence for another minute. Then Voldemort said:
"And, have you discovered your little surprise?"
"You mean Snape?" she replied, sounding intentionally unimpressed.
"So," he said, chuckling deep in his chest, "you have finally met our esteemed Potions Master. And what do you think of him?"
"Not much," she replied. "He's a bit of a bore, isn't he?"
"You find Snape boorish?"
"Well, yes, that too," said Addy, not wanting to contradict him. Then she put on a girlish pout and looked up at him again. "Why didn't you tell me you already had a spy at Hogwarts?"
"Oh, Lucius and I thought it would be fun to have a little joke on you both. How did you know he was a Death Eater?" he asked, a bit of suspicion sneaking into his voice.
"Master, everyone here has heard of Severus Snape. He's famous! But I didn't know you had him working out of Hogwarts."
"And I presume he also knows about you, my dear?"
Addy froze inside. She and Snape had not discussed how they would handle this. Not knowing whether she'd have a chance to brief him before Voldemort summoned him, she decided that the truth would be better than a lie in this instance.
"When I discovered he was there, I told him I was Iscarious' daughter. I figured you'd want him to know," she replied, looking up at him innocently and hoping for his approval.
"Yes, that's fine. It's good to see my two Hogwarts spies are keeping on their toes. I would like you to keep an eye on him for me. We must be sure he is not being unduly influenced by the old wizard."
"Of course, My Lord," she said, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief.
"And the Potter Boy. You've seen him?"
With this question, Addy's well trained ears detected the most minute adjustment in Voldemort's voice and demeanor. It was nothing more than a shadow, really, but to a skilled listener it spoke volumes. She sensed that the very idea of Harry Potter was both precious and perilous to him.
Addy was now on shaky footing, since she knew that Voldemort, who was a loose canon under the best of circumstances, could readily become utterly unstable whenever the subject of Harry Potter was brought up. It had been the only time he'd ever harmed her father, who had returned home with a three inch gash on his cheek after once suggesting that Voldemort's notorious visit to the Potter household had possibly been premature.
She felt sure that Snape would have some advice on how to handle questions about Potter, but they hadn't discussed it yet. Neither of them had thought she'd be called back so soon.
"Yes," she treaded lightly.
"And?"
"He's a boy."
"Does he look well? Strong and healthy?"
"He is skinny, but otherwise looks like a normal teenage boy. But," she remembered to add quickly, "of course, he is not a normal boy. However, I'm afraid the source of his power remains a mystery, My Lord," she lied.
Addy had a pretty good idea of what the source of Harry's power was. It was what every person sought, what everyone craved, what propelled the human race through peaks of ecstasy, plains of sorrow, and pits of madness in its pursuit. But she wasn't sure Voldemort could fathom it, even if she had wanted to divulge it. And of course, she did not.
"You are right, my dear," Voldemort said, with a distant gaze. "He is not a normal boy. He has defeated me many times. He will not defeat me again." The madness in his voice reeked of vulnerability, and Addy made a mental note.
As he spoke of Harry Potter, Addy became aware of the increased pressure with which he clawed at her hair. Soon she felt a warm, silky trail of blood trickle down the back of her neck as his fingernails pierced the surface of her scalp. She swallowed the fear that was writhing upwards within her. Nagini appeared to be dozing, but her tongue flicked out instinctively, homing in on the trace of the coppery scent in the air.
Addy molded her face into a beatific smile, steeled herself, and turned to face him, taking the soft, scaly flesh of his hands into hers. Again her mind flashed back to Snape's office, and she felt a surge of longing to be back at Hogwarts, discussing strategy, drinking tea--even bonking heads--with Snape.
"He will not defeat you again, My Lord. The end—and the beginning—are near." She tried to rally the old zealous fervor into her voice. She must have seemed genuine to Voldemort, because he looked down at her with his small pointy teeth bared, eyes moving excitedly in separate directions, and the skin of his mouth stretched tight and wide in a chilling imitation of a smile.
Voldemort was quiet for a long while. Addy laid her head back down and waited, freezing on the stone floor and trying to keep from shivering. The walls seemed to be slowly closing in on them, but Addy knew it was only an enchantment designed to trick the mind, and forced herself to remain calm.
Time stood still, and pretty soon she had no idea if she had been there for several minutes, or an hour, or more. It was a particular quality of Voldemort's Throne Room that she had always despised. The place had been built for madness, and she tried not to think about how much time Voldemort had spent in here, or what the landscape of his mind must look like as a result. She listened to Voldemort's labored breathing as the wind shivered in and out of his papery lungs.
Finally, she drew up the courage to ask him a question.
"How are the plans coming for the 'Underground Project?'"
"Fine, my dear. You needn't worry about that. I promised your father I'd keep you away from my little fireworks displays."
"But everything is on schedule, I presume?"
"Of course. Pugh is raring to go, but we must teach him patience, mustn't we? I've asked him to bring back a nice hearty meal for Nagini afterwards," he said, with a bloodthirsty purr.
Addy dared not ask more.
Unmeasurable time had passed when she finally heard footsteps approaching through the antechamber. She looked up to see her father burst through the curtains, a look of joyful anticipation on his face.
"There's my Addy Lady!" Only her father's booming voice could rise above the dead air of the Throne Room and manage to lift her spirits, if merely reflexively. "You weren't going to keep her all night, were you Voldemort?"
Addy cursed herself, but she couldn't help but feel her heart skip a beat at the sight of her father, his eyes twinkling with affection and his arms spread wide, waiting for her.
She looked up at Voldemort, who lazily nodded his approval. Then she leapt up and ran to her father. He was a large man and Addy sunk into his embrace, feeling time instantly peel away from her until she was five years old again. He was so big, so familiar—the scent of his pipe, the scratch of his beard, the cadence of his laugh. Smothered in his embrace, Addy was drawn back to a day when her world had been filled with safety and devotion, and devoid of complications, suspicion and guilt.
It was a lovely time and place, but Addy knew she couldn't stay there. To live there was to live in delusion. So she hurtled herself back to the present reality, in which both she and the man hugging her were Death Eaters, responsible for the destruction of hundreds, possibly thousands, of lives, and she was, at that very moment, in the process of deceiving this murderer who had raised her.
"Are you through with her, Voldemort? Artesia and I are eager to hear all about the work our little Addy Lady's been up to."
"Yes, Iscarious. Adelaide is through here, but she can not go with you. She must return to Hogwarts now."
"Oh, Voldemort…she just got here, and she hasn't even had a chance to see her Mother."
Addy looked back over her shoulder at Voldemort, anxious to see if her father's appeal held any sway. She was eager to get back home—to Hogwarts.
"Not tonight. We don't want to arouse any suspicions at the school."
Her father looked down at her, and she returned his gaze, affecting a disappointed look. They both knew from Voldemort's tone that it would do no good to argue. He pointed a finger at the creature in the throne and said, "Next time, she stays for dinner. We want a whole evening with her. She is still my daughter."
Voldemort nodded. "Of course, of course. Until next time, my dear," he said, with a wave of his clawed hand. "Why don't you escort her out, Iscarious." Nagini bobbed her head in farewell.
Father and daughter walked together back into the antechamber. When they were alone, he turned to face her and squeezed her shoulders. "Your mother and I are so proud of you," he said. Then he planted an affectionate kiss on her forehead, and Addy thought she might have seen a glisten in his eye.
"You don't know how happy that makes me," Addy said, only half-lying. She waved goodbye with a rueful smile, and disapparated, leaving behind a sprinkle of silver dust as a parting token for her father.
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In a blink, she was standing once again just outside the back gate to Hogwarts, the smile gone from her face. Immediately, she placed both hands on the stone wall, leaned over, and vomited.
As she retched, she thought about how tired she was and the long walk back to the school, with no invisibility cloak. She would have to be stealthy, but dared not take the back tunnel, for she had no idea how to navigate the corridors back to her room. She would have to walk all the way around to the front entrance, and, although it was a warm night, her bones were still chilled from The Compound, and her head was beginning to ache with exhaustion.
When the heaving of her stomach finally stopped, she removed one hand from the wall to wipe her face. Just then, a green silk handkerchief appeared under he nose. It dangled from long, expressive fingers, which were attached to the buttoned-up arm of Severus Snape.
He had stood there, in the spot where she had left him, for the three hours she'd been gone, awaiting her return. Addy looked up in joyful amazement. She was so happy to see him, she could have thrown her arms around him.
But Snape had not spent the time idly. For the past three hours, his mind had been working in overdrive, meticulously reviewing the details of events since Addy's appearance at Hogwarts. And he now had a few questions for his fellow "former" Death Eater.