Hi guys! I'm so sorry that this chapter has taken such a long time for me to put up here. I've been busy with my final exams (I'm graduation collage next Tuesday, woho!), and on top of that I got really sick and had to visit the hospital. But I'm all better now and will hopefully have more time to write now that school's soon out. I hope you still want to read my story and that you will enjoy this chapter. :)

And as always, thank you all who are reading, putting me on favourite and alert and all of you who has been reviewing!

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Chapter 41

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"Let go of me!" Alice tried to pull back her arm, but the man holding onto it was much stronger. He took out his wand and Alice feared for the worst. She reached out and took Draco's hand right before the man Apparated from the field. The pressure realised only moments after it appeared and they landed on a wooden floor.

"Let go of me!" Alice cried once more and pulled her arm towards her.

"What is this?" Voldemort asked as he examined her hand.

"What is what?" Alice hissed and met her father's eyes. Then she realised which hand he was holding on to, and what had caught his eyes. "It's a ring", she simply said. Draco squeezed her hand to reassure her nothing her father did could hurt them.

"An engagement ring", Voldemort said matter-of-factly. His red eyes shot to Draco for a moment, before returning back to Alice. "Did he give it to you?"

"Yes", said Alice in a low voice. "Yes, he did."

"And you intend to marry him?"

"Quite obvious." They stared at each other for several long moments.

"I will not approve this", Voldemort said, but let go of her hand. "You are to stay put here, you'll be watched and if any of you try anything", he pointed his wand from Alice, to Draco and back at Alice again. "I assure you, this marriage is never going to take place."

"And how are you to stop us?" Alice was being bold, her father was already furious and her disobeying did not help the matter.

"Are you questioning my power?" He answered with a smirk on his lips.

"I am questioning you lack of it."

"Stand down, Alice", Draco whispered from beside her.

"I do not need to seek power, like you father", said Alice in a hissing voice. "I already have it."

"Where is your power then, Alice?" Voldemort said. Alice pulled out her wand and threw a curse towards her father. Taken aback by the sudden change in his daughter, Voldemort was unable to pull out his wand in time to protect himself from the spell. He fell backwards but got hold of the wall to hold himself up, letting nothing but a small moan of discomfort out as the Cruciatus curse lingered on his body.

"What are you going to do, Alice? Kill me, like you did your mother?"

"No", she said firmly. "I am not the one that's going to kill you." To her surprise, he started laughing.

"Do you see what it is you claim to love?" His question was directed towards Draco. "A monster, someone that wouldn't hesitate killing her own parents to get what she want." Draco's eyes never wavered from his, not once. Yet again the old man laughed and pulled out his wand.

"Crucio!" He laughed and both of them fell onto the floor in rising pain. Alice didn't let go of Draco's hand, and he didn't let go of hers. They were in this together, and would come out of this together.

"I will keep a close eye on the two of you", he said and left the room. Alice looked up from her position on the floor. Draco was still holding her hand tightly, lying on his back with his fixed on the roof.

"Are you alright?" She asked carefully. He tilted his head towards her.

"I'm fine", he said. "You?" She nodded slowly and his gaze drifted back to the roof. "Well", he said trying to sound strong. But Alice could hear his voice shiver. "That went well." He was trying to cheer her up, but his eyes never betrayed the pain he felt. Draco was the first one to get up, and he pulled Alice up with him.

"Don't listen to what he said", Draco whispered and put his hands around her face. "You are no monster", and with that he pressed his lips softy against hers.

"But I am", Alice said as soon as he pulled out from the kiss. She put her hands on top of his but looked down on the floor.

"Well, you're my guardian angel. Always", he said with a smile.

"Always", she repeated with a smile as well.

"I think we should go and find mother", Draco said and took her hand in his before heading towards the door.

"Where are we?" Alice asked. She didn't recognize the place. Draco turned towards her again.

"We're home."

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Alice liked the rain. She always had. There was something about it that felt soothing. If it was the drops that fell on her body or the soft sound, she didn't know. But she did know rain always comforted her. There was a meeting, one that her father had arranged of course. People were hurrying inside the big house, and no one seemed to even notice the girl sitting underneath the three just a few feet away. Alice sighed. Was this how things were going to be from now on? Even though she was free and was allowed to do almost anything she wanted – she felt trapped. She hadn't spoken to Draco in three days, nor had he attempted to speak to her either. They just sat, day in and day out in the sitting room waiting for some time alone.

"Alice, are you coming?" Alice looked up, it wasn't Draco. It was his father, Lucius Malfoy. It'd been quite the surprise to find him at home; Draco had told her he was in Azkaban and wouldn't be released in a while. To say Alice was surprised by his arrival was nothing compared to how Lucius had reacted to Alice. At first he had frowned deeply at the sight of Alice, but as soon as he'd learned who she was things changed. He was tripping around on his toes to not say or do anything to disturb Alice in any way.

"Hm?" She said and looked up at the man. He looked tired with dark bags underneath is eyes and the unshaved face. "Oh, yes", she said when she remembered what was going on. She got up and followed the man in to the house. They entered the sitting room, which was full of silent people, sitting at a long and ornate table. The room's usual furniture had been pushed carelessly up against the walls. Illumination came from a roaring fire beneath a handsome marble mantelpiece surmounted by a gilded mirror. Alice stepped in. Lucius had already found his place, by the middle of the table, in between his wife and son. Alice frowned, seeing there was only three empty seats. One next to the Dolohov man, and two next to her father himself. Alice walked in to the room and stopped behind the man who was sitting next to Draco.

"Move", she ordered. The man looked up at her in confusion, and then turned to his master for some sort of aid.

"Alice, you are to sit next to me", Voldemort spoke, his voice was hissing and she realised he was speaking to her in parseltoung.

"I will sit wherever I please", she replied calmly, in the same hissing language. She turned back to the man who still was in his seat. "Move", she said so that he could understand. The man got up, without hesitation this time and scanned the room for another free spot. When he realised the only ones left was by the Dark Lord himself or by Dolohov, he just stood there, in silence. Voldemort made a quick motion with his hand at the seat next to him, encouraging the man to sit down. He quickly moved across the room and found his new seat without a word. The room fell in utter silence. You could hear the sound of each and everyone's breaths along with the sound from the fireplace. They waited for the two empty seats to be filled. Alice glanced over at Draco. He looked more pale than usual and his eyes were fixed upon the witch, hanging lifeless in the air above the table. Then the doorknob turned at two men appeared in the doorway. Snape and Yaxley lingered for a moment on the threshold.

"Yaxley. Snape," said Voldemort, from his seat at the head of the table. "You are very nearly late." The two men stepped in to the room, closing the distance between themselves and the group.

"Severus, here," said Voldemort, indicating the seat on his immediate right. "Yaxley, beside Dolohov." The two men took their allotted places. Most of the eyes around the table followed Snape, and it was to him that Voldemort spoke first.

"So?"

"My Lord, the Order of the Phoenix intends to move Harry Potter from his current place of safety on Saturday next, at nightfall." The interest around the table sharpened palpably – some stiffened, others fidgeted, all gazing at Snape and Voldemort.
"Saturday... at nightfall," repeated Voldemort. His red eyes fastened upon Snape's black ones with such intensity that some of the watchers looked away, apparently fearful that they themselves would be scorched by the ferocity of the gaze. Snape, however, looked calmly back into Voldemort's face and, after a moment or two, Voldemort's lipless mouth curved into something like a smile.

"Good. Very good. And this information comes..."

"From the source we discussed," said Snape.

"My Lord." Yaxley had leaned forward to look down the long table at Voldemort and Snape. All faces turned to him. "My Lord, I have heard differently." Yaxley waited, but Voldemort did not speak, so he went on, "Dawlish, the Auror, let slip that Potter will not be moved until the thirtieth, the night before the boy turns seventeen." Snape was smiling.
"My source told me that there are plans to lay a false trail; this must be it. No doubt a Confundus Charm has been placed upon Dawlish. It would not be the first time; he is known to be susceptible."

"I assure you, my Lord, Dawlish seemed quite certain," said Yaxley.

"If he has been Confunded, naturally he is certain," said Snape. "I assure you, Yaxley, the Auror Office will play no further part in the protection of Harry Potter. The Order believes that we have infiltrated the Ministry."

"The Order's got one thing right, then, eh?" said a squat man sitting a short distance from Yaxley; he gave a wheezy giggle that was echoed here and there along the table. Voldemort did not laugh. His gaze had wandered upward to the body revolving slowly overhead, and he seemed to be lost in thought.

"My Lord," Yaxley went on, "Dawlish believes an entire party of Aurors will be used to transfer the boy..." Voldemort held up a large white hand, and Yaxley subsided at once, watching resentfully as Voldemort turned back to Snape.

"Where are they going to hide the boy next?"

"At the home of one of the Order," said Snape. "The place, according to the source, has been given every protection that the Order and Ministry together could provide. I think that there is little chance of taking him once he is there, my Lord, unless, of course, the Ministry has fallen before next Saturday, which might give us the opportunity to discover and undo enough of the enchantments to break through the rest."
"Well, Yaxley?" Voldemort called down the table, the firelight glinting strangely in his red eyes. "Will the Ministry have fallen by next Saturday?" Once again, all heads turned. Yaxley squared his shoulders.

"My Lord, I have good news on that score. I have, with difficulty, and after great effort succeeded in placing an Imperius Curse upon Pius Thicknesse." Many of those sitting around Yaxley looked impressed; his neighbor, Dolohov, a man with a long, twisted face, clapped him on the back.

"It is a start," said Voldemort. "But Thicknesse is only one man. Scrimgeour must be surrounded by our people before I act. One failed attempt on the Minister's life will set me back a long way."

"Yes, my Lord, that is true, but you know, as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Thicknesse has regular contact not only with the Minister himself, but also with the Heads of all the other Ministry departments. It will, I think, be easy now that we have such a high-ranking official under our control, to subjugate the others, and then they can all work together to bring Scrimgeour down."

"As long as our friend Thicknesse is not discovered before he has converted the rest," said Voldemort. "At any rate, it remains unlikely that the Ministry will be mine before next Saturday. If we cannot touch the boy at his destination, then it must be done while he travels."

"We are at an advantage there, my Lord," said Yaxley, who seemed determined to receive some portion of approval. "We now have several people planted within the Department of Magical Transport. If Potter Apparates or uses the Floo Network, we shall know immediately."

"He will not do either," said Snape. "The Order is eschewing any form of transport that is controlled or regulated by the Ministry; they mistrust everything to do with the place."
"All the better," said Voldemort. "He will have to move in the open. Easier to take, by far." Again, Voldemort looked up at the slowly revolving body as he went on, "I shall attend to the boy in person. There have been too many mistakes where Harry Potter is concerned. Some of them have been my own. That Potter lives is due more to my errors than to his triumphs." The company around the table watched Voldemort apprehensively, each of them, by his or her expression, afraid that they might be blamed for Harry Potter's continued existence. Voldemort, however, seemed to be speaking more to himself than to any of them, still addressing the unconscious body above him.

"I have been careless, and so have been thwarted by luck and chance, those wreckers of all but the best-laid plans. But I know better now. I understand those things that I did not understand before. I must be the one to kill Harry Potter, and I shall be." At these words, seemingly in response to them, a sudden wail sounded, a terrible, drawn-out cry of misery and pain. Many of those at the table looked downward, startled, for the sound had seemed to issue from below their feet.
"Wormtail," said Voldemort, with no change in his quiet, thoughtful tone, and without removing his eyes from the revolving body above, "have I not spoken to you about keeping our prisoner quiet?"

"Yes, m-my Lord," gasped a small man halfway down the table, who had been sitting so low in his chair that it appeared, at first glance, to be unoccupied. Now he scrambled from his seat and scurried from the room, leaving nothing behind him but a curious gleam of silver.

"As I was saying," continued Voldemort, looking again at the tense faces of his followers, "I understand better now. I shall need, for instance, to borrow a wand from one of you before I go to kill Potter." The faces around him displayed nothing but shock; he might have announced that he wanted to borrow one of their arms.

"No volunteers?" said Voldemort. "Let's see... Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand anymore." Lucius Malfoy looked up. His skin appeared yellowish and waxy in the firelight, and his eyes were sunken and shadowed. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse.

"My Lord?"

"Your wand, Lucius. I require your wand."

"I ..." Malfoy glanced sideways at his wife. She was staring straight ahead, quite as pale as he was, her long blonde hair hanging down her back, but beneath the table her slim fingers closed briefly on his wrist. At her touch, Malfoy put his hand into his robes, withdrew a wand, and passed it along to Voldemort, who held it up in front of his red eyes, examining it closely.

"What is it?"

"Elm, my Lord," whispered Malfoy.

"And the core?"

"Dragon... dragon heartstring."

"Good," said Voldemort. He drew out his wand and compared the lengths. Lucius Malfoy made an involuntary movement; for a fraction of a second, it seemed he expected to receive Voldemort's wand in exchange for his own. The gesture was not missed by Voldemort, whose eyes widened maliciously.

"Give you my wand, Lucius? My wand?" Some of the throng sniggered.

"I have given you your liberty, Lucius, is that not enough for you? But I have noticed that you and your family seem less than happy of late... What is it about my presence in your home that displaces you, Lucius?"

"Nothing... nothing, my Lord!"

"Such lies Lucius..." The soft voice seemed to hiss on even after the cruel mouth had stopped moving. One or two of the wizards barely repressed a shudder as the hissing grew louder; something heavy could be heard sliding across the floor beneath the table. The huge snake emerged to climb slowly up Voldemort's chair. It rose, seemingly endlessly, and came to rest across Voldemort's shoulders: its neck the thickness of a man's thigh; its eyes, with their vertical slits for pupils, unblinking. Voldemort stroked the creature absently with long thin fingers, still looking at Lucius Malfoy.
"Why do the Malfoys look so unhappy with their lot? Is my return, my rise to power, not the very thing they professed to desire for so many years?"

"Of course, my Lord," said Lucius Malfoy. His hand shook as he wiped sweat from his upper lip. "We did desire it... we do." To Malfoy's left, his wife made an odd, stiff nod, her eyes averted from Voldemort and the snake. To his right, his son, Draco, who had been gazing up at the inert body overhead, glanced quickly at Voldemort and away again, terrified to make eye contact.

"My Lord," said a dark woman halfway down the table, her voice constricted with emotion, "it is an honor to have you here, in our family's house. There can be no higher pleasure." She sat beside her sister, as unlike her in looks, with her dark hair and heavily lidded eyes, as she was in bearing and demeanour; where Narcissa sat rigid and impassive, Bellatrix leaned toward Voldemort, for mere words could not demonstrate her longing for closeness.

"No higher pleasure," repeated Voldemort, his head tilted a little to one side as he considered Bellatrix. "That means a great deal, Bellatrix, from you." Her face flooded with colour; her eyes welled with tears of delight.

"My Lord knows I speak nothing but the truth!"

"No higher pleasure... even compared with the happy event that, I hear, has taken place in your family this week?" She stared at him, her lips parted, evidently confused.
"I don't know what you mean, my Lord."

"I'm talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And yours, Lucius and Narcissa. She has just married the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud." There was an eruption of jeering laughter from around the table. Many leaned forward to exchange gleeful looks; a few thumped the table with their fists. The giant snake, disliking the disturbance, opened its mouth wide and hissed angrily, but the Death Eaters did not hear it, so jubilant were they at Bellatrix and the Malfoys' humiliation. Bellatrix's face, so recently flushed with happiness, had turned an ugly, blotchy red.

"She is no niece of ours, my Lord," she cried over the outpouring of mirth. "We, Narcissa and I have never set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood. This brat has nothing to do with either of us, nor any beast she marries."

"What say you, Draco?" asked Voldemort, and though his voice was quiet, it carried clearly through the catcalls and jeers. "Will you babysit the cubs?" The hilarity mounted; Draco looked in terror at his father, who was staring down into his own lap, then caught his mother's eye. She shook her head almost imperceptibly, then resumed her own deadpan stare at the opposite wall. Alice made a movement underneath the table. She reached out and took his hand. His eyes darted over at her for a second before returning to stare blankly in to the space before him. The only thing that showed of the relieve of Alice's actions, besides from the almost unnoticeable eye movement he did, was that he squeezed her hand back and twirled his fingers in between hers.

"Enough," said Voldemort, stroking the angry snake. "Enough." And the laughter died at once.

"Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time," he said as Bellatrix gazed at him, breathless and imploring, "You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the health of the rest."

"Yes, my Lord," whispered Bellatrix, and her eyes swam with tears of gratitude again. "At the first chance!"

"You shall have it," said Voldemort. "And in your family, so in the world, we shall cut away the cancer that infects us until only those of the true blood remain." Voldemort raised Lucius Malfoy's wand, pointed it directly at the slowly revolving figure suspended over the table, and gave it a tiny flick. The figure came to life with a groan and began to struggle against invisible bonds.

"Do you recognize our guest, Severus?" asked Voldemort. Snape raised his eyes to the upside down face. All of the Death Eaters were looking up at the captive now, as though they had been given permission to show curiosity. As she revolved to face the firelight, the woman said in a cracked and terrified voice, "Severus! Help me!"

"Ah, yes," said Snape as the prisoner turned slowly away again.

"And you, Draco?" asked Voldemort, stroking the snake's snout with his wand-free hand. Draco shook his head jerkily. Now that the woman had woken, he seemed unable to look at her anymore. Alice squeezed his hand more tightly, she did recognize the woman – it was a teacher, from Hogwarts.

"But you would not have taken her classes," said Voldemort. "For those of you who do not know, we are joined here tonight by Charity Burbage who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." There were small noises of comprehension around the table. A broad, hunched woman with pointed teeth cackled.
"Yes, Professor Burbage taught the children of witches and wizards all about Muggles... How they are not so different from us." One of the Death Eaters spat on the floor. Charity Burbage revolved to face Snape again.

"Severus... please... please..."

"Silence," said Voldemort, with another twitch of Malfoy's wand, and Charity fell silent as if gagged. "Not content with corrupting and polluting the minds of Wizarding children, last week Professor Burbage wrote an impassioned defence of Mudbloods in the Daily Prophet. Wizards, she says, must accept these thieves of their knowledge and magic. The dwindling of the purebloods is, says Professor Burbage, a most desirable circumstance. She would have us all mate with Muggles or, no doubt, werewolves." Nobody laughed this time. There was no mistaking the anger and contempt in Voldemort's voice. For the third time, Charity Burbage revolved to face Snape. Tears were pouring from her eyes into her hair. Snape looked back at her, quite impassive, as she turned slowly away from him again.

"Avada Kedavra" The flash of green light illuminated every corner of the room. Charity fell, with a resounding crash, onto the table below, which trembled and creaked. Several of the Death Eaters leapt back in their chairs. Draco fell out of his onto the floor.

"Dinner, Nagini," said Voldemort softly, and the great snake swayed and slithered from his shoulders onto the polished wood.

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"Severus, a word before you leave." The meeting had come to its end.

"Of course, my Lord", said Snape and remained in his seat, next to the Dark Lord. The others looked curious, but knew better than to snoop. Voldemort waited to speak again until the room was close to empty. Alice remained in her seat, along with the Malfoy's and Bellatrix.

"You are one of my most loyal men, Severus", said Voldemort and glanced over at the Malfoy's with disappointment. "Therefore it is my displeasure to not see your family tree continue, to see you without a wife and child."

"My Lord?" Snape asked.

"I have arranged for you to get married", Voldemort explained, and his eyes shoot over at Alice for a moment. "You are to marry my daughter." Alice looked up in shock. Her heart started racing. This wasn't true, it couldn't be. She could feel Draco stiffen up beside her, his eyes had once more regained focus and were now starring intensely at the black haired man next to the Dark Lord. Snape, on the other hand, had only raised an eyebrow.

"Forgive me, my Lord, but isn't your daughter a bit... young?"

"I do not expect you to merry her until she's turned seventeen, in December", Voldemort said. Of course they'd have to wait. The law said so. Voldemort stood up, without looking at anyone and left. Leaving the room in complete silence.

"Please." Draco was the first one to break the silence. "Please, you can't marry her", he pleaded to Snape.