The end of the week had come sooner than most people had expected.
When the sun set on Friday evening, Minerva McGonagall started her usual walk through the corridors of the upper half of the castle, gazing into every classroom and empty corner to make sure that none of the students intended to sneak out of the castle tonight. Once again, she cursed the headmaster for his all too permissive way of dealing with the curfew hours. He was capable, oh yes, but headmaster Dippet had had his way with students that had made Minerva feel more secure about their (and especially certain Gryffindors') safety.
With perhaps more intensity than necessary, Minerva regarded one of the portraits behind which, as she knew, a not so secret tunnel lead directly into the village of Hogsmeade. It had not been moved tonight, however, as she found out with a simple spell not unlike Priori Incantatem. She also found that the favourite hiding place of two of her worst trouble-makers (Mundungus Fletcher and Dedalus Diggle, namely) was deserted.
'For once,' she concluded, 'the two are concentrating on passing their final exams instead of being up to mischief twenty-four hours a day.'
Then again, she was well aware that the presence of Alexander Fumes had brought a very new quality inside the Hogwarts walls. Minerva was not sure whether she approved of the elderly wizard's rather traditional methods of education (especially since she had received word how he still used transfiguration as a means of punishment) but she could also not help thinking that teaching the students a certain cautiousness under the given circumstances was not the worst thing to do. So she had kept quiet and not taken action when the complaints about Fumes's teaching methods had started to pile up.
A cat crossed her way. Minerva smiled.
'Evening, Mrs. Norris,' she said quietly, instinctively letting herself drop on all fours, changing into her tabby cat form on her way down. 'You well?' she motioned.
'Lots of work,' replied the caretaker's feline friend with a small nod, gazing motionlessly into Minerva's eyes. 'Students on the run in the dungeons.'
Minerva frowned - inwardly. Cats did not usually pull human grimaces. Students? But she had not seen a single one of them so far, although she prided herself with being the first, usually, to catch anyone who was up to mischief.
Mrs. Norris stretched and blinked at Minerva, trying to rub her cheek against the witch's lanky cat's body. The deputy headmistress recoiled and quickly made her way down the corridor again.
'Not a chance,' she snapped, turning back into her usual self.
Mrs. Norris glared after her. She did not like being turned down.
Minerva, on the other hand, quickly made her way towards the Astronomy tower, finding it was a popular starting place for any student couples seeking a suitable place for one or the other romance. She snorted.
The door of the Astronomy tower was firmly locked when she arrived.
Her fist intention was to turn and continue her way down the corridor, but suddenly something struck her as very odd. Whenever Professor Sinistra secured her part of the castle, the deputy headmistress remembered, she tended to lock the upper two doors only and leave the downstairs one open in case one of the students intended to take a look at the various pictures of famous astronomers the overzealous Astronomy teacher had hung up along the handrail of the spiral staircase that led to the upper levels and her Astronomy classroom.
On closer investigation Minerva found that the door had been treated with a simple locking spell, apparently, too simple for any teacher to have applied it, and yet magical, so that the involvement of Argus Filch was out of the question.
In a swift movement Minerva took out her wand and pushed the door open without doing so much as putting her hand on the doorknob. Then, as fiercely, she marched in, looked around, and started a swift, decided walk along the circular walls, gazing out of the windows into the vast depth spreading in front of them.
The castle in itself was high enough, but from this place one had an additional view down the stony slopes that lead towards the giant black lake which the first-years traditionally crossed at the beginning of each year. The view was fantastic and Minerva could not help but stop for a second to gaze into the vastness of the Hogwarts grounds.
Then, right behind her, a door fell shut.
Minerva whirled around. Her wand was out before she knew it, and she pointed it at the door while breaking into a run after the person who apparently had just left the room she was standing in.
Halfway down the corridor, she caught the small figure of a student by his upper arm. A boy, she noticed, who had decided to run for it instead of continuing to hide. An unusual method, she concluded, pulling the boy into the light of the castle window. The sight made her frown.
'Mr. Snape,' she sighed, pressing her wand hand against her sleeves, just for a second. 'May I ask...'
'They locked me in!' blurted the Slytherin out, quicker than Minerva was used to from him. 'It wasn't my fault, Professor! I was going to go back to Slytherin, but I couldn't get out! I didn't know the spell and... and 'cause we're not allowed magic in the corridors...'
'Who locked you in?' said Minerva tiredly.
'Potter,' said Snape desperately. 'A-and Black, a-and Pettigrew...'
He looked thoroughly unhappy - seemed to just blurt things out without consideration. Minerva could feel a certain awareness inside him. The certainty that whatever he said, it would sound incredible to her. And, surprisingly, the deputy headmistress found that her first reaction was to scold the small boy for lying - without having enquired any further. She stopped herself just in time, considering that, for once, he might be telling the truth.
'Do you have any proof for what you're saying?' she enquired.
Snape considered for a second, then shook his head uneasily. 'But is WAS them. I wouldn't lock myself in, would I?' he whispered.
'I wouldn't be too sure of that,' said Minerva quietly, aware of a permanently weary tone in her voice. 'Proof, please, Mr. Snape, or, as I promised you, this time it is the thrashing vault for you.'
Snape's face assumed an expression of pure horror.
'Please,' he whispered after a moment's horrified silence, 'I... you can ask... I... you've got to believe me... it's not my fault...'
'Then stop getting into these situations, for Merlin's sake!' hissed Minerva, suddenly very impatient and very weary of his continuous excuses. 'Do you take me for a fool, Mr. Snape? It is always Potter and his friends, always someone else you want to hold responsible for your actions! I have not forgotten what you did last year, boy! You are inconsiderate in your decisions, ruthless in the execution of revenge, which I find unworthy of a Hogwarts students, as I have told you, and you constantly blame others for the mistakes you make!'
There was a short silence. In the semidarkness Minerva could make out hardly more than the outlines of the black-haired Slytherin's face, but she was suddenly aware that he was crying.
With a sudden feeling of guilt the deputy headmistress bent down, just a bit, to look the boy into the eyes.
'Tell me the truth,' she whispered. 'No lying, do you understand me? If you give me a full account of the events as to how you got to be locked in, I shall reconsider my decision. Regardless of what you have done.'
Severus Snape looked up tremblingly, hesitated for a while, and then nodded.
'Well,' said Minerva, 'who locked you in then?'
There was a short silence. Then, apparently with all the strength he could muster, Severus Snape spoke, hiding his hands in his armpits as he did so often when being nervous.
'I... I followed Black and Potter up here to-tonight. After... dinner. Be-because I had a feeling that they would be sneaking out looking for Lupin. A-and I was right. O-only that they go-got the better of me a-and locked me in... in there,' he pointed at the entrance of the tower.
Minerva nodded, fighting, inwardly, to keep her composure. 'Where are they now?' she said quietly. Snape blinked.
'I... I'm not sure,' he whispered. 'This was hours ago. For all I know, they might have crossed The Forest by now.'
Minerva felt her insides squirm.
'You mean they left the castle?'
Snape nodded.
Minerva took a deep breath. Then, almost in one go, she got up, let go of Snape's arm, and put her wand back into its place under her robes.
'I shall investigate on the matter,' she said quickly, pushing Snape in the direction of the staircase leading downstairs and towards the dungeons. 'You, on the other hand, are going back to your dormitory.'
Snape shot her a frightened side glance.
'No b-beating?' he managed.
'Not if you have told me the truth,' replied Minerva quietly, suddenly finding herself regret having uttered such a drastic threat. 'I am aware that this is a difficult time for you, Mr. Snape. And I told you that you can talk to any teacher about anything that troubles you. But you will also have to learn to keep out of trouble like this, do you hear me? You cannot keep sneaking after other students when the person you should be minding first and foremost at the moment is you.'
Snape nodded mutely. Then, after a second's silence he whispered, 'Thank you, Professor,' in a tone that let the hair on Minerva's neck stand straight.
This, however, was not the time to worry about Severus Snape's personal development. There were students in danger.
'Not a problem,' she thus said quickly, putting one hand at his shoulder briefly, 'You ought to retire now.' And then left him to hurry towards the Gryffindor common room, knowing by instinct that he would do exactly as she had told him.
Bellatrix needed a moment before she realised what Rodolphus was playing at. Not wanting to interrupt or contradict him in front of all the students she held her breath, wondering what on earth he was planning to do if the werewolf did not disclose his identity.
Rodolphus had started marching up and down the vault and was gazing into people's fearsome faces, well aware that each of them thought with horror of the possibility to be the randomly chosen victim.
'No really,' Bellatrix thought, 'how is he going to get himself out of this one? There is no way a child would admit to being a werewolf in front of all these people. There is too much shame involved being a half-blood and a half-breed.'
After a moment's silence even Rodolphus seemed to realise that his words would have to be translated into action soon. It was only then, it seemed, that he realised what he had actually said. Bellatrix sighed inwardly. Her chosen husband was as rash as brilliant-minded.
It had been an hour since the headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, had given word that there was a young werewolf among the kidnapped students and that he would have to be separated from them as soon as possible to avoid a mass slaughter. Sixty darn minutes, and Rodolphus had not even stopped to contemplate what might be the quickest, most effective method to apply. He had just walked off, apparated, not given anyone any chance to even ask what he was going to do, and had walked straight into the small room full of people, demanding the werewolf to show itself in front of all its classmates and friends.
This had been bound to fail from the beginning, Bellatrix resolved.
She was gazing around at the group of Halfbloods, all of which were staring apprehensively at Rodolphus, and, in some cases, at each other, wondering if any of their classmates was attempting to move.
Rodolphus frowned.
'I am not going to wait much longer,' he growled.
Bellatrix shook her head. Kidnapping was one thing, murder quite another. 'You are never going to get out of Azkaban again if they catch you killing the hostages,' she thought, 'although, considering all odds, there isn't much of a chance that they are going to catch you.' A feeble smile emerged her lips. 'Still...'
Rodolphus pulled one of the first-years up by his neck and held him into the air so that his feet were dangling a few inches above the ground. Several of the students screamed.
'Now, that's it,' said Bellatrix, taking a few harsh steps forward and, with a quick movement, wrestled the boy out of her partner's grip. 'You are going too far.'
Rodolphus gave her an incredulous look, then his eyes narrowed under his black mask, giving Bellatrix his usual, sinister glare which he tended to put up whenever someone had the boldness of standing up to him.
'Are you trying to tell me what I can and what I cannot do?' he hissed. 'Or do you have a better suggestion as to the solution to this matter? Perhaps you would like to wait for the full moon to sort things out for us?'
Bellatrix lost her patience.
'Idiot,' she hissed. 'You and your stupid rashness! Do you really want to kill? Personally, I don't think ridding the world of one Mudblood is worth rotting in Azkaban for the rest of your life.'
People had started muttering. Bellatrix heard her words repeated in countless children's mouths and stopped.
'Silence!' she snarled, much sharper than intended, observing that at once every child in the room shut their mouth and resumed staring again. Now, this was agreeable. She grinned under her mask.
'You will be questioned individually,' she said harshly. 'Under the influence of veritaserum. Though you might as well step forward now. If chance has it, you won't return to your former life anyway. Very probably you won't.'
She waited a second, more to perceive the reaction her words caused than to actually give the werewolf a chance to give itself away, then turned.
'Very well,' she said, shooting a meaningful glare in the direction of Rodolphus, then turned. 'We shall see.'
And they walked off. All of them, Bellatrix noted with some surprise, finding that Rodolphus was not making any attempts of interfering with her chosen course of action.
It did not take the small group of Knights long to walk through the corridor of the forgotten tenth century dungeon vault deep inside the hills of the island and climb out at the point that Bellatrix liked to refer to as soft spot because it provided a link into the meta-world of witches' and wizards' unplottable places, commonly known as The Forest, as well as bearing the entrance into the seemingly endless dungeon world of the old McGillivray castle.
Outside, Rodolphus pulled off his mask, took a few deep breaths of the chilly late-summer air before turning to Bellatrix with a look of pure venom. She had expected this.
'You!' he said, 'are undermining my credibility.'
'Would you have preferred to murder the brat?' retorted the black-haired witch. 'You can be so thick, Rodolphus! What would you have done with him? Perform the killing curse?'
'I have done the torturing one,' replied her partner darkly. 'And Imperio. What makes you think I'll back away when it comes to the last of the three?'
'Because you know Crouch,' said Bellatrix softly. 'And you know the current wizarding law. Unforgivables, they call them. But if it wasn't for people like Cornelius Fudge and Albus Dumbledore, the army would be running around using those spells like any of the others. But for killing someone you'll always have to justify yourself in court, no matter what spell you used. The killing curse is looked down upon - more than any of the others.'
'You didn't seem as reluctant when it came to blot out the headmaster only a few months ago,' retorted one of the other Knights, joining in the conversation while also getting rid of his mask and his hood, enjoying some of the fresh wind and singular sunbeams out here. Bellatrix side-glanced.
'You know, Ludovic,' she said, allowing a sardonic smile to play around her lips, 'that is an excellent question. Probably because the plan was also this dunce's idea in the first place, and I had a way in mind to hold him responsible for everything that happened should anyone ask.' She grinned, watching Rodolphus' expression turn into unconcealed anger. 'Especially the matter with young Sirius Black seemed extremely risky to me...'
'As if any of your plans had had any effect more worthy of praise so far!' snapped the older Lestrange, his face assuming a healthy shade of red. 'You keep going on about how useless my ideas are, but may I remind you that it was you who agreed to trust young Black with this matter and that it was you who suggested we could accept Hogwarts students if they were old enough and seemed to show the right... attitude?'
'Well, it is perfectly okay for sixth-formers...'
'I am saying one word,' replied Rodolphus, talking himself into rage. 'Severus Snape. I know Malfoy trusts him, but he was essentially your idea. And he is but a third year!'
'Calm down,' said Bellatrix sourly, now walking towards the cottage on top of one of the hills, which she and Rodolphus had chosen as a living place for the time being, at least until the political situation had eased a bit and you could know whom to trust within the Ministry again. 'I do not intend to let him into our ranks, if that is what you mean. He is a fool. If you'd attended last year's Christmas Dinner you'd know that he doesn't seem to develop much personality. But he is useful, Malfoy says. Extremely useful. No idea what makes him think that, but I trust a Malfoy's judgement. I really do.'
'Last thing I heard is that he tried out for the wizarding army,' remarked Rodolphus grumpily. Bellatrix laughed.
'In sixth year,' she replied, 'indeed. It was a rather laughable performance I am told, however. Guess he'll have to take the Ministry course after all.'
'Better for him,' nodded Rodolphus, slowly calming down. He was irascible, Bellatrix knew, but you could just as easily divert him from his anger by talking about topics he liked. And the Ministry was one of them.
They talked all the way up to the cottage. What had the headmaster said? It was another week until full moon? Perfect. It would not take half as long to get the truth out of the werewolf when he was all by himself and not surrounded by his petty friends. There were only so many hostages, after all. Rodolphus opened the door of their home and Bellatrix stepped in. The matter was worth putting at rest for now in any case.