Author's Notes
WARNING: the following chapter will contain unsettling or upsetting content, which will be listed once the relevant POV appears. All readers are advised to proceed with caution.
Chapter 15: Trials and Tribulations
Lily I
Saturday, 2 April 1977
It was late at night when Lily knocked hollowly on the door of Petunia's flat. She didn't remember anything after she'd returned to her room the night before, only that she was distraught and that she woke up to find she hadn't changed out of her uniform. She didn't bother showering in the morning, nor did she eat, despite protests from everyone at the table. She had ended up storming off and confining herself to one of the lavatories, where she remained until Mary and Marley had come to collect her for the train ride home. And so, Lily had sat in a cabin with Mary and Brandy while Marley took over her Prefect duties for that day, all with the cruppy sitting in Lily's lap and licking her hand.
The door to the flat opened, and Petunia stepped out a little to see who it was. Her eyes were hard, and her face was like stone. "You're late," she said quietly.
Lily nodded, unable to verbally respond, and she stepped forward and shakily hugged her sister. Petunia hugged her back and gently pushed her away.
"Mummy's inside," Petunia said, inviting Lily in.
Lily stepped in with her luggage and found Mum sitting on the couch, hunched over, her shoulders trembling as she brought an already used tissue to dry her nose. She heard Lily and turned to see her; her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and her breathing was shaky. "Oh, there you are, Lily," Mum said weakly, as though it was any other day. "Petunia and I were starting to worry."
"... hi, Mum," Lily said with difficulty, sitting down beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner."
"You'll be sleeping in my room," Petunia said to both of them as she set down two cups of tea on the table before them. "I can take the couch…. Lily, you need a shower."
"Sorry," Lily mumbled. She kissed Mum on the cheek and said, "I'll be fifteen minutes."
Lily set her luggage in the bedroom and unpacked her pajamas before going into the bathroom. Setting her things to the side, she stripped naked and stepped into the shower, turning on the hot water and letting herself get lost in the steam. She could barely feel the heat, but the chronic tightness she had felt in her chest started to subside. That tightness had only reminded her of what Dad must have felt in his last moments, but at least Lily wasn't alone.
Samuel Evans was. He had died alone, with Mum back at the house preparing some pasties for the next day, Petunia back in London after her visit with Vernon, and Lily all the way in the Scottish Highlands, living in a fantasy world.
When Lily stepped out of the shower, she realized she was crying again. She dried herself, first her face and then everything else, before quickly dressing and wrapping the towel around her hair. She opened the door just as the door to the bedroom shut, and she saw Petunia sitting at the kitchen table alone with a cup of tea, as well as the tea she had originally set on the sitting room table. Lily walked over and sat across from her.
"What happened?" Lily asked.
"She's exhausted," Petunia said, taking a sip. "Aside from what's just happened, she's panicking."
"What do you mean?"
"She's worried about what she's going to do, now that…." Petunia paused. "Daddy was her rock. Now that he's gone, she… you might have to sell the house."
Lily froze as the little heat in her blood suddenly vanished. "Can we not afford to stay?"
"Maybe for a few months," Petunia said, her voice growing more quiet. "Perhaps until Christmas, if you're careful. For now, I'm having Mummy stay with me so that she doesn't have to worry too much."
"But…." Lily's chest was starting to tighten again. "Petunia, I…."
"I know," Petunia said. "In the future, you may have to stay with a friend, if not find a flat."
"I don't understand," Lily said. "I thought we were well-off."
"Part of it was missing work," Petunia explained. "If it was anywhere but Cokeworth, they might have given him paid leave…. Another part was that he and Mummy spent money on a lot of luxuries. The car wasn't cheap, you know."
"I can't believe…." Lily was having trouble breathing, and she let out a small gasp before clamping her mouth shut. The reality of the situation was beginning to set in; Dad was gone, and she would lose her home by the end of the year. She felt Petunia put an arm around her.
"Get a hold of yourself," Petunia said stiffly. "Mummy needs us."
Lily nodded despite how she was feeling. "I know," she breathed out.
"Vernon's giving me the week off so I can help with the funeral arrangements," Petunia continued. "I can come up to Cokeworth and spend time at home. We'll be leaving in two days."
Lily nodded again.
Petunia let go and stood. "I'm going to take a shower. You should finish your tea and head straight to bed. You must be exhausted."
Lily was left alone in the kitchenette as Petunia retrieved something from her bedroom and went into the bathroom. She picked up her cup and took a sip of the tea her sister had poured for her; milk and three sugars. It wasn't sweet enough.
Remus I
Monday, 4 April 1977
"You'll be alright?" Tad asked before he shut the cellar door. "You don't need to use the loo?"
"I've already gone," Remus said. "I can cast the Muffling Charm."
"If you insist," Tad said. "I'll come by for breakfast, then. Night."
"Night, Tad." The cellar door shut, and Remus heard the various locks being moved into place. He took out his wand and muttered "Muffliato" so that the sound couldn't escape; even after more than a year had passed, he couldn't help but be impressed by that charm Lily had taught him during one of their patrols.
Remus quickly stripped off his clothes and folded them on the mattress before stashing them away in the chest, taking out a long dressing gown and setting it on top. His pulse was starting to quicken, and his bones were on the verge of aching. He sat down on the mattress naked, patiently waiting for the moon to take control.
The ache in Remus's bones began to grow, and an uncomfortable itching permeated through his muscles, going right under the skin. As it grew, Remus began to shake, the sensation growing more and more unbearable. He gritted his teeth to try to remain quiet, but he couldn't help but whimper as the bones in his legs began to bend and twist into more lupine limbs. Breaking bones was one thing; he had broken a few bones when he was younger, mainly due to how foreign the transformations were to him. But bending was worse; it was a build-up of pain with no climax, no comedown, a perpetually deep ache.
The sinews of Remus's muscles began to stretch and contract throughout his body, which caused him to let out his first scream of the night. Something foreign and violating was crawling through each strand of flesh, starting from his head and neck and spread downward like long, creeping hairs. As the sensation reached his extremities and began itching its way into his bending bones, he slammed his face into the mattress and suppressed a sob, and he felt his head being pushed away as his face elongated slightly.
Remus's gums began to ache and taste of iron as they split from the painful bending and expanding of his teeth, a sensation more excruciating than what he imagined cavities and gingivitis felt like for Muggles. The sensation pulled a snarl out from the back of his throat, and he tried clawing at his face to distract himself from the sensation; his forelimbs had gone past the point of humanity, and the attempts were futile.
The pain in Remus's bones, his muscles, his teeth, were all too much. It was excruciating. It was infuriating. It was maddening. He hated everything around him, and he began pacing around the room on all fours, trying to find something to destroy, to kill. He needed to kill, but not just anything. Killing animals meant nothing to him; they were too stupid to know what he was. He needed to kill something that knew him, that feared him, he needed to rip them apart, hear the screaming that drowned out his own, he needed to kill them, kill them, kill them, KILL THEM, KILL THEM, KILL THEM-
Lily II
Wednesday, 6 April 1977
Samuel Evans was buried on Wednesday, the 6th of April in the year 1977 in Witton Cemetery. The service, miniscule in size, had been a numbing blur for Lily as she held back her tears, remembering what Petunia had said about being strong for Mum, who was having trouble breathing as she held her. Also present at the funeral were Petunia's boyfriend, Vernon Dursley, and the man from the Muggle Liaison Office, Philip Greymoor.
Vernon was a beefy man with dark hair and a bushy mustache. He was wearing a three-piece suit, which seemed to have been refitted once or twice due to his physique (which Lily couldn't tell whether it was fat, muscle, or both). Despite his brutish size and appearance, he was gently holding Petunia to him by her shoulder, doing nothing other than subtly (but not very) checking his pocket watch.
Philip Greymoor was a short man with balding brown hair and wearing an old, hand-me-down suit with a few patches. He had arranged for the funeral through a friend, who happened to be a Squib, and the priest, who was apparently another Squib, had been brought in from London; it was fortunate that the priest was Anglican, or Dad would have broken out of his coffin and objected.
Lily shuddered out a breath; she didn't know if the thought amused her, or if it was too soon to joke. She glanced at Mum, whose face was wet, and she took out a handkerchief to give to her. Mum took the handkerchief and dabbed her eyes and face before sniffing, keeping hold of it.
As the last of the dirt fell onto the grave, Lily led Mum to the car where Petunia and Vernon had gone. It was a decent car, something called a Bentley T2; Dad had left behind a T1, and only now did Lily realize how big of a deal it was for them to own it, and why Mum only had until the end of the year before she had to sell the house. Bentleys were a status symbol, and Mum and Dad had always considered their status among their neighbors, despite the fact that they lived in Cokeworth, of all places. Everything, from the car to the library, even to Lily and Petunia being forced to speak in RP, revolved around status. It hadn't hit Lily quite as hard as it did now, knowing that she was going to lose her home, her favorite chippy, and the spot by the river where she and Sev spent time together.
Severus's hearing was in two days, and the articles written by that horrid Skeeter woman painted him as a monster. They always had to bring up Tobias Snape and the crimes he had committed, always implying that the apple didn't fall too far from the tree. But Lily didn't care about what the articles said, or what the public thought about him; she just wanted Severus out of Azkaban.
After a bit of driving, Vernon's car pulled up just behind the Evans family car, and everyone got out. As Lily stepped out, she spotted two familiar faces waiting beside the front gate, and she called out to one. "Alice?"
"Lily!" Alice hurried to Lily and pulled her into a hug. As she pulled away, Lily could see that her eyes were slightly puffy. "I'm sorry we couldn't make it. We've been busy-"
"It's alright," Lily said, eyeing Vernon. She lowered her voice and said, "The man over there doesn't know."
"Frank Longbottom," Lily heard Frank say, and she turned to find the two men shaking hands.
"Vernon Dursley," Vernon said rather pompously, looking Frank up and down. "Is there any particular reason you're outside Mrs. Evans's house?"
"We're friends of Lily," Frank said. "We graduated from the same school."
"Ah, that boarding school in Scotland, eh?" Vernon nodded. "What sort of work are you into?"
"Alice and I are considering law enforcement," Frank said. "And you?"
"I'm a junior executive at Grunnings," Vernon replied, adjusting his suit jacket.
"Frank has him busy. Come on." Alice took Lily by the arm, and the two of them followed Petunia and Mum inside the house. They all sat down in the sitting area in front of the TV as Alice said to Lily, "I'm so sorry for your loss."
"Slughorn said that he'd get in touch with Belby," Lily said, letting out a shaky breath. "Sev was working on something-"
"We know," Alice interrupted softly, and Lily could tell something was wrong. "Scrimgeour had us look into anything involving Snape, and Belby's name came up. Strictly speaking, I shouldn't be telling you this, but… Belby showed the Healers at St. Mungo's, and they refused to work on it."
"What?" Mum's voice startled Lily and Alice. "They… what are you talking about?"
"I don't know everything about the report," Alice said, "but from what I can tell, Snape was developing some sort of treatment for your husband."
"Why would they refuse?!"
"Normally, it would be due to the severity of the Statute of Secrecy. But in this case, it's more to do with Snape's current situation."
"Because he's incarcerated," Lily finished. She felt her hands ball into fists. "He's not even been found guilty!"
"It's a precaution," Alice said, not believing her own explanation.
"All they have to do is check the ingredients and-"
"What was he doing?" Mum asked, turning to Lily.
"He was trying to develop something Dad could use in a ventilator," Lily explained. "It was supposed to make the lungs and diaphragm more elastic while also causing them to absorb antioxidants more efficiently. It wouldn't be a cure, but it would've slowed it down. And he could've finished it if he hadn't-"
"Your father wouldn't hold it against him," Mum said, much to Lily's surprise. "He…." Her face crumpled into a quivering scowl as she let out a sob. Petunia took Mum's hand and started to shush her gently, but the latter shook her head and said, "He would want us to observe the hearing."
"There's a problem," Alice said, her voice turning more serious. "It's why Frank and I came to see you. The Ministry has decided to close off the hearing to the public."
"What?!" Lily exclaimed. "But that's not what the paper said!"
"It was decided an hour ago," Alice said. "It hasn't been printed yet, but it will be. If there was something I could do, I would, but as of right now, neither you nor your family can go."
"What if I was a witness?" Lily offered. "James and I were the first ones to arrive! Moody and Shacklebolt questioned all of us!"
"That wouldn't be enough," Alice said. "As you say, you were the first to arrive, but you didn't see the fight. Every other testimony, other than Mary's, wouldn't hold much water."
Before Lily could respond, the front door opened, and Frank and Vernon came in, laughing about something involving golf. They quickly settled down, and Vernon went to sit by Petunia's side and asked, "Is there anything you need, Mrs. Evans?"
"Some tea would be lovely," Mum answered.
"I'll make some," Petunia said, standing up and walking into the kitchen.
"I'll help," Lily said, following her sister. She found the teabags while Petunia set out the teapot and teacups. Turning to her sister, she asked, "Do we have any more sugar…?"
Petunia was quietly shuddering, her lips twitching as she seemed to fight back a grimace. She hunched her back slightly, her eyes tightly shut as moisture began forming between the cracks.
"Tuney?" Lily said softly.
Petunia tried to speak, but nothing came out. She pressed her hand to her mouth to muffle the sob, and Lily went to hug her, only to be gently pushed away as Petunia sniffled and let out a slow breath.
"I'm fine," Petunia said quietly, her voice hardening as she straightened her back. "Just help me with the tea."
Lily glanced back at Mum as she sat with Alice, Frank, and Vernon; they seemed to be talking about Vernon's job at Grunnings, although both Alice and Frank looked as though they were struggling to follow along. They were doing their part to take Mum's mind off of things, as was Petunia. Lily had to do the same, not only for Mum, but for herself.
Severus I
Friday, 8 April 1977
Severus was told that today was the 8th of April, 1977. It was the second day after his release from Azkaban, and he was currently awaiting his hearing before the Wizengamot. From what he knew, Bartemius Crouch Sr. was to preside over the hearing, and Dumbledore was to act in Severus's defense; it brought back memories of the trials that happened almost twenty years ago, back in 1981… or rather, what would have happened four years in the future, had Professor Snape not erased his original world from existence. It was a reminder that there would be no redemption for his older self; how could there be, when he had done away with the consequences of his old life?
Coming back to the present, Severus realized that he wasn't particularly nervous about the outcome, nor was he angry about being detained in Azkaban for nearly two months for defending Mary. He felt a bit numb, and his mind paradoxically felt both fuzzy and clear at the same time. He was drained, to the point where he was unburdened by what he assumed would be a maelstrom of calculations in his head or worries about the future. Spending the mid- to late- winter in Azkaban had sobered him, helped him consider what was important in the grand scheme of things.
The door to his holding cell opened, and two gaunt, cloaked figures glided into the room. Any heat in Severus's bones vanished as he found himself avoiding the gaze of the dementors, his wardens of the past two months. It didn't bother him nearly as much as it had before, and he had soon discovered that Occlumency was extremely useful when it came to resisting the effects of a dementor's presence. The dementors stopped on either side of him and took him by the arms, as they had done when they'd brought him from Azkaban to the holding cell, and proceeded to drag him out and into the adjoining corridor. Within a few minutes, they passed through a set of double doors and into a new room, which he recognized all too well.
Severus found himself surrounded on all sides by members of the Wizengamot as he was led in, although everyone on his right side was a blur; his eye hadn't healed properly due to his imprisonment, mostly related to the absence of healers in Azkaban. Directly ahead of him, seated higher than the others, was the familiar figure of Bartemius Crouch Sr., the current head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. This was the first time since the Triwizard Tournament that he had seen the disgraced Ministry official; he looked younger, obviously, but even younger than the first time he'd seen him during the trials. It was strange how different someone could look within four years. The dementors forced Severus into the chair situated in the middle of the room, and golden chains snaked up his arms and bound him tightly in place, and Crouch began to speak.
"Disciplinary hearing of the eighth of April," Crouch began, "into offenses committed under the Decree for the Protection of Underage Witches and Wizards and the Decree of Vampire Ethics by Severus Snape, resident at number 13, Spinner's End, Cokeworth, West Midlands.
"Interrogators: Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Harold Minchum, Minister for Magic-"
Severus had forgotten about Minchum; that would have explained why there had been a sharp increase in dementors over the past two months. Harold Minchum was known for his hard-line stance on punishment, and he had, knowing full well the psychological effects of dementors, significantly increased their numbers in Azkaban. The thought of them
"-Cornelius Fudge, Junior Minister for the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Witnesses and Experts for Prosecution: Amos Diggory, employee of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Beast Division; Abraxas Malfoy, Chairman for the Hogwarts Board of Governors-"
Abraxas Malfoy would be a problem. Lucius and Abraxas were close, and if the former was involved in his father's affairs, then the latter may act. It was a concern Dumbledore had shared in the past, and his presence only confirmed that he would be an obstacle.
"- Witnesses and Experts for Defense: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Headmaster at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry; Eldred Worple, employee of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Being Division; Wilhelm Wigworthy, Professor of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry; Cassandra Vablatsky, Professor of Divination at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry-"
Severus found it odd that Dumbledore would choose those two as witnesses or experts in this case. If he had enough energy, he would have wanted to think about the reason, but one drawback of Azkaban was the loss in focus he had developed. Sitting through the hearing had a real chance of being difficult to pay attention to-
"-and Mary Elizabeth MacDonald, third-year student at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry and chief witness."
Severus's heart stopped, and the haze over his mind cleared. Mary was well enough to act as a witness? He looked around, trying to find her somewhere among the people in the room; if she was here, she might have been in his blind spot. He would just have to wait.
"The charges against the accused are as follows," Crouch continued. "Firstly, that you did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of your actions, attack, injure, and mutilate Alexander Avery II, seventh-year; Barry Barton, fifth-year; Alecto Carrow, sixth-year; Amycus Carrow, sixth-year; George Greengrass, sixth-year; Marcus Mulciber II, seventh-year; Norman Nott, sixth-year; Paul Philips, fifth-year; Evan Rosier, seventh-year; Sebastian Selwyn, fifth-year; Wendy Wilkes, sixth-year; and Charles Yaxley, fifth-year; all of which are in direct violation of the Decree for the Protection of Underage Witches and Wizards.
"Secondly, that you did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of your actions, attend Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry while suffering from the condition of vampirism, which is in direct violation to the Decree of Vampire Ethics.
"Thirdly, that you did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of your actions, attack and petrify Adrian Creevey, sixth-year; and Dirk Cresswell, fifth-year; all of which are in direct violation of the Decree for the Protection of Underage Witches and Wizards.
"You are Severus Snape, resident at number 13, Spinner's End, Cokeworth, West Midlands?"
"I am," Severus responded blankly.
"Does the defense deny the charges brought before him?"
"The defense denies the charge of vampirism and the petrification of Adrian Creevey and Dirk Cresswell," Dumbledore began, "and also argues that the actions taken on the fourteenth of February of this year were in defense of a minor witch."
"Very well," Crouch said, sounding displeased. "We shall begin with the charge of vampirism. Does the defense have anyone to call forth?"
"Eldred Worple," Dumbledore answered.
"Let Eldred Worple come forth," Crouch said, gesturing to the side.
Severus turned his head so he could see the man. He recognized him as the same small, stout Eldred Worple who had befriended a vampire by the name of Sanguini, although whether or not he had already done this was a mystery.
"You are Eldred Worple?" Crouch asked.
"Yes," Worple replied.
"You are employed in the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures?" Crouch asked.
"The Being Division," Worple confirmed.
"What are your qualifications for your presence here?"
"I am a leading expert on non-human beings, with particular emphasis on vampires and vampirism. I was in the middle of writing a book when I was contacted by Headmaster Dumbledore."
"What do you bring before us?"
"I require one clove of garlic," Worple said.
"You have not brought your own?" Crouch asked.
"It should be Ministry-approved," Dumbledore explained. "If Mr. Worple brought his own, you may wish to analyze it."
"You are seeking to disprove the claim of the accused's vampirism?" Crouch asked.
"Indeed," Worple said as someone brought forward a single clove of garlic.
It didn't take foresight to know where this was going.
"Mr. Snape," Worple said, turning to and approaching Severus, "are you willing to consume this clove of garlic?"
"... yes," Severus said, looking down at the clove. The smell was awful.
"If you would please open your mouth and consume the entirety of the clove."
Severus opened his mouth begrudgingly and felt the raw clove enter his mouth. He bit down and began to chew, struggling not to gag.
"Vampires are fatally allergic to garlic," Worple explained to the Wizengamot. "If Mr. Snape was a vampire, then the clove I gave him would kill him. I know for a fact he isn't a vampire; therefore, I haven't killed him."
Severus swallowed the garlic, suppressing a gag once more, before emptying his mind and allowing himself to distract himself from the flavor.
"I think you'll find that the charge of vampirism is unfounded," Dumbledore said.
Crouch looked confused. "But what about the bite marks on his throat?"
"It was a snake," Severus said.
"What breed?"
"A big one."
"Where were you bitten?"
"On the neck."
"I mean your location!"
"The Shrieking Shack, in May."
"Of last year?"
"It would have been almost a year ago, yes."
"And you recovered from such a bite?"
"No; I died oh so horribly."
"Save your sarcasm for another time." Crouch's eyes narrowed. "Very well…. Those in favor of clearing the accused of the charge of vampirism?"
All hands among the Wizengamot shot up.
"The charge of vampirism is dismissed," Crouch said, banging his gavel as Worple took a seat. "Now, let us move on to the charge of attacking and petrifying Adrian Creevey and Dirk Cresswell. Is it not true that the accused was chosen as this year's Heir of Slytherin?"
… I hate tradition. "It is," Severus confirmed.
"And is it not the case that, in addition to the petrifications, there has been an inscription written on one of the walls of the castle, indicating that the enemies of the Heir should 'beware'?"
"It is," Severus replied.
"And is it not the case, if sources are to be believed, that you were the very first person to find both Adrian Creevey and Dirk Cresswell, as well as the first to identify their conditions as petrification?"
"It is," Severus replied. He heard the Wizengamot murmuring quietly among themselves, not loud enough for Crouch to silence them.
"And you deny being responsible for any of what has just been listed?"
"I deny being responsible for the message and the petrifications," Severus replied. He had to be extremely careful with his answers; he'd noticed the presence of the Skeeter bitch of to the side with her fucking quill.
"But you were the first to arrive and identify their conditions?" Crouch asked.
"That is correct."
"How is it that you just so happened to find both Creevey and Cresswell?"
"Mr. Snape is a Seer," Dumbledore answered.
The murmuring grew louder, and Severus felt his blood boiling. Typical. The first time he'd felt anything since his pity-party vacation, and it just had to be anger once again, and this time due to Dumbledore revealing something so sensitive; he didn't mind if other students knew since they weren't too important, but Abraxas Malfoy was in the crowd.
"Is there any evidence of this?" Crouch asked.
"If I may call forward Professor Cassandra Vablatsky?"
"Granted."
Vablatsky soon appeared before Crouch, having come from the same general direction as Worple, and stopped just in front of Severus.
"You are Cassandra Vablatsky?" Crouch asked.
"Yes."
"Current professor of Divination at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry?"
"Yes."
"Author of Unfogging the Future?"
"Yes."
Crouch nodded. "Can you confirm Mr. Snape's status as a Seer?"
"I can," Vablatsky said. "He is, without question, my best student."
"In what way?"
"He has scored perfect marks in every single class in which he has been present," Vablatsky explained. "And this is despite not having taken the class in any prior years."
"We have reviewed his schedule, courtesy of the headmaster," Crouch said. "Is it true that Mr. Snape is currently enrolled in thirteen advanced classes?"
"Correct," Dumbledore said.
"As you are aware, headmaster, the Ministry has reviewed Mr. Snape's school medical records due to the severity of his most recent injuries. You have said that he was kept at Hogwarts for his health, as opposed to staying at St. Mungo's?"
"Correct," Dumbledore said.
"Do you mean to tell me that, within the course of two months, Mr. Snape suffered from four major heart attacks?"
"And three minor ones," Dumbledore answered.
The members of the Wizengamot began to murmur with both shock and concern, and Severus held back a groan of disparagement. Why the fuck had Dumbledore allowed Madam Pomfrey to keep records of that?!
"And these were caused by full-body muscle spasms? It makes it sound as though these were seizures!"
"Not quite, but close enough," Dumbledore replied.
"Why was he not admitted to St. Mungo's?"
"Because the cause of the episodes was not of a magical nature," Dumbledore replied. "I, and Madam Pomfrey, believed that it was tied to the abuse he suffered at the hands of his father, whom I'm sure everyone in this room knows of in no small part to the article written about him."
Any murmuring in the room went silent. "Headmaster," Crouch said carefully, "do you mean to say these episodes were caused psychologically?"
"Yes," Dumbledore answered.
"And you believe that his… mental breakdown, if I may put it like that, is due in part to his father?"
"If I may speak for Mr. Snape-"
"What are you doing?!" Severus hissed to Dumbledore.
"Quiet!" Crouch called out. "The accused shall wait until he is addressed!"
"You have our apologies," Dumbledore continued, giving Severus a cold look that made him shrink back. "To answer your question: yes."
Crouch looked between Dumbledore and Vablatsky. "Returning to my point, I fail to see the benefit of enrolling your former ward in thirteen advanced classes while recovering from such a debilitating condition. The report suggests that Mr. Snape was incapable of proper motor functions."
"My belief was that the road to recovery relied on regular exercise of his body movements," Dumbledore replied. "Also, Mr. Snape isn't one to be pampered. He hates it."
Severus shot Dumbledore a glare, despite the fact that the man wasn't looking at him.
"To review your testimony in relation to the facts," Crouch said, "you say that Mr. Snape, without any prior study of Divination, is capable of not only foresight, but also sensing when others are in peril? And that this is how, despite his schedule and physical state, he is capable of responding to said premonitions?"
"I would say that his schedule, as well as his condition earlier in the year would be two points in favor of his innocence," Dumbledore replied. "He would have neither the time nor the ability to carry out any of these attacks, considering how busy he has been."
"But enough time to find the bodies," Crouch added.
"But enough time for that," Dumbledore confirmed.
"One wonders why Mr. Snape would go out of his way to face such a threat," Crouch said. "Does the accused have any response?"
Severus couldn't meet Crouch's eye, but he caught Dumbledore's out of the corner of his own. There was an odd look, and if he could glean any farther beyond the surface, he would swear that….
No. That… you can't….
Dumbledore was silent, but Severus knew exactly what he would say. The Greater Good.
"... Lily," Severus finally admitted. "Lily Evans."
"The same Lily Evans who found you and the witness in the clearing that day?" Crouch asked.
Severus nodded. "Yes." With each word, he knew he was placing her in danger, but he trusted that Dumbledore would keep her safe. This Dumbledore, at least. He braced himself as he continued, "I was afraid that she would be the one I found Petrified."
"Our records show that you and Miss Evans live in the same town. Cokeworth, is that right?"
Fuck. "It is," Severus answered.
"And you have a previous relationship with her?"
"We were best friends," Severus forced out. If Dumbledore wasn't here, he would lie through his teeth. "And we remained friends until fifth year."
"What happened in your fifth year?" Crouch asked.
"There was an incident by the Black Lake," Severus answered, bracing himself. "I called her a mudblood."
There was a bit of murmuring among the members of the Wizengamot, but Crouch continued. "Continue."
"This year," Severus said, "I wanted to reconcile. I became more involved with her and her group of friends, which is how I became friends with Mary."
"The same Mary MacDonald from the incident?"
Severus nodded.
Crouch stared at Severus for a good minute before saying, "Evidence regarding the petrifications is circumstantial and will require further investigation. Those in favor of postponement of the verdict, until sufficient evidence is presented before the Wizengamot?"
A majority of hands were raised.
"Postponement," Crouch said, banging his gavel. "Severus Snape will remain detained until further evidence is uncovered. The witness is dismissed."
Vablatsky bowed her head and returned to her seat.
"We now turn to the attack on the fourteenth of February," Crouch continued. "Does the defense wish to call forward any witnesses?"
"Mary MacDonald," Dumbledore replied.
"Granted."
Severus was cold to begin with, but watching Mary walk from her seat to stand between himself and Crouch made his blood chill. He hadn't seen her since his detainment, but he could remember the state she and her crup had been in. It didn't take Legilimency to tell that she was uneasy.
"You are Mary Elizabeth MacDonald, resident of…." Crouch reviewed the parchment he was holding. "Hmm…. You are Mary Elizabeth MacDonald, correct?"
"Yes, sir," Mary said timidly.
"You are familiar with Severus Snape?"
"He's one of my best friends," Mary said. "We play Gobstones together."
"I see. On the fourteenth of February of this year, you visited Hogsmeade with Sirius Black, Lily Joanne Evans, Remus John Lupin, Marlene McKinnon, and James Potter, correct?"
"Correct."
"And you went off on your own to purchase a writing quill, correct?"
"As a late birthday present for Severus," Mary answered.
"You had your dog with you as well?"
"Yes. Brandy."
"And what is her breed?"
"She's part-crup."
"Now, you were seen chasing Brandy through Hogsmeade and into a nearby clearing. Do you know what caused Brandy to run off?"
"I think it was a dog whistle," Mary said. "Mulciber was holding one when he and the other Slytherins surrounded me."
"Yes… if you are able, can you recall the attack?"
A silence filled the room in anticipation for what Mary was about to say. Severus hadn't been there directly, but based on the premonition he'd experienced in the Room of Requirement, he had a fairly good idea.
"Well," Mary said shakily, "Wilkes disarmed me, and I couldn't think clearly, so I tried to run, but she stopped me. Mulciber had Brandy, and I was shouting for him to leave her alone, and then Wilkes used the Scouring Charm on me."
"The Scouring Charm?" Fudge asked.
"She used it on my mouth," Mary said. "I couldn't breathe, and…. And then they…."
Severus felt something tear in his chest as soon as Mary started crying; had he arrived sooner, had he gone into Hogsmeade with her, he could have stopped them. Dumbledore walked to Mary and began patting her back gently.
"Take your time, Miss MacDonald," Dumbledore said softly.
Mary sniffled and wiped her eyes, clearing her throat before choking out, "Mulciber wanted me to take my knickers off for him, but I refused… and he used the Imperius Curse on Brandy… and he made her run into a tree."
There were a few shocked murmurs among the witches and wizards of the Wizengamot. Severus remembered the force with which he had crashed into that wall, and the image of a cruppy doing likewise….
"... she was just… swaying back and forth," Mary said, "and then he made her…."
"Yes?" Crouch asked coldly.
"... he made her chew through her leg…." That earned more murmurs and even a gasp from the people in the room. "And then he used the Cruciatus Curse on her, and…." At this point, the words refused to come out of her mouth, but she seemed to force herself to do so. "I… I had to save Brandy, sir, I didn't want to-"
"Of course, you didn't want to," Dumbledore said softly.
Every single word that came out of Mary's mouth was boiling Severus's blood. If he ever saw the light of day again, he would kill Mulciber.
"I-I took them off for him," Mary said to Crouch, "and then he… he used a spell to turn me upside down, and my skirt…."
"And this would be around the time Mr. Snape arrived, correct?" Crouch asked, clearly trying to end Mary's retelling.
Mary nodded. "He was in the air, like he had wings."
"And how is this possible?" Crouch asked.
"I don't know, sir," Mary answered.
"Mr. Snape, how were you capable of unassisted flight?"
Severus made eye contact with Crouch. "Magic, sir."
"And where did you learn it?"
"I'm self-taught."
Crouch looked over a few more parchments in his possession. "Now, when you attacked Marcus Mulciber, you used an unknown curse to mutilate his arm. Can you tell us the name of said curse?"
Severus eyed Dumbledore, who nodded in an infuriating manner.
"... Sectumsempra," Severus admitted.
"There are no records of such a curse," Fudge piped in. "Where did you learn it?"
"Self-taught," Severus answered.
"Yes, but from whom did you learn of the existence of such a curse?"
"From me," Severus said. "I invented it." He heard a few people whispering among themselves.
"You invented the curse?"
"And the counter-curse," Severus replied.
"And what is this counter-curse?"
"Vulnera Sanentur." Severus didn't want to admit to anything else, but Dumbledore's eye was still fixed on him.
"I have one question," Abraxas Malfoy said, drawing attention to himself. "If the attack took place as has been recounted, then why was it that no one heard anything until the very end of it?"
Abraxas's question seemed to stir some confusion. It was somewhat clever of him: using such a fact to cause doubt among those present. Severus understood where Lucius got some of his wit from.
"Mulciber said something about a charm," Mary said. "I think it was something to do with muffling."
"Muffliato," Severus corrected. As the word came out of his mouth, he realized something: he had never mentioned it to Mulciber, or anyone in Slytherin, for that matter. The only person he'd ever taught it to was Lily, so how was it that Mulciber learned how to perform it? Asking this question to himself only hit him with another unsettling one, to which he knew the answer to: who had taught Potter the Dangling Jinx?
"You know of the charm?" Crouch asked.
"Another invention of mine," Severus said, knowing what Dumbledore wanted him to say. "Used to cause a muffling effect within an area, as opposed to an individual. It causes a buzzing sound in the ears when one gets too close to the perimeter."
"If such a charm was cast," Abraxas pushed, "then why was it that other people could hear Miss MacDonald?"
"I can answer that," Crouch said. "Aurors sent to examine the scene noted that the entire clearing had been dispelled."
"By Snape?" Abraxas asked. "Surely, not!"
"Mr. Snape?" Crouch asked.
"... it was me," Severus answered.
"Is that so?"
"I was disarmed and restrained, so I had to dispel my bindings to escape. MacDonald helped me by disarming Rosier."
"I would like to begin a line of questioning regarding Marcus Mulciber II," Abraxas said.
Crouch seemed to be annoyed by Abraxas's frequent interjections, but he said, "Proceed."
"Miss MacDonald," Abraxas asked, "have such incidents with Mr. Mulciber occurred in the past?"
Severus could see Mary stiffen at the question.
"... they have, sir," Mary answered uneasily.
"Can you recall the first notable instance?"
"Back in second year," Mary said slowly, "there was… well, someone had sent me a box of chocolates just before the Christmas holiday."
Severus knew exactly where this was going.
"I only ate one, but my friend, Marley, ate five. She was stuck in the Hospital Wing for the entire holiday."
"The chocolates were poisoned?" Crouch asked in shock.
"Lily thought that it might have been something to do with the Dark Arts," Mary said. "Pomfrey couldn't recognize what was wrong."
"And you suspect it was Mr. Mulciber?" Abraxas asked.
Mary nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Was he ever punished?" Crouch asked, his question directed at Dumbledore.
"The issue was never reported to me," Dumbledore answered.
"We didn't know for sure," Mary quickly added. "But we-"
"If you don't know, then how could you say this was the first time?" Abraxas asked.
"Objection," Dumbledore said. "Relevance to the case?"
"I can assure you that this is relevant," Abraxas said. "I'm attempting to establish a behavioral pattern."
"Sustained," Crouch said, addressing Dumbledore. "Continue, Lord Malfoy."
"As I have already asked," Abraxas said, "how can you be sure?"
Severus knew what Abraxas was doing: sowing seeds of doubt once more to confuse everyone without appearing malicious. If he succeeded, there was no doubt that Mulciber's actions would eventually be seen as a one-time occurrence, and the older families of the Sacred Twenty-Eight would seek to restore his reputation. He couldn't allow that.
"I taught him." Severus could feel every eye in the room lock onto him as he spoke, including those of Dumbledore and Mary.
"What was that, Mr. Snape?" Abraxas asked.
"I taught him," Severus repeated. "I taught Mulciber how to lace chocolates with potions."
Of all the looks he received, the one that Severus couldn't handle was Mary's. Everyone else, including Dumbledore, had expressions of surprise or disgust; the look on Mary's face was one of betrayal. But he couldn't lie to her, despite how he'd felt about her and Lily in Azkaban; she deserved the truth.
"I gave him recipes for purging potions," Severus continued, "and I taught him how to brew them."
"Did you know what the potions were intended for?" Crouch asked.
"I didn't ask," Severus admitted. "It didn't matter at the time." He could tell he was starting to lose favor with the members of the Wizengamot.
"Do you care to comment, Miss MacDonald?" Abraxas asked.
Severus looked at Mary just as the girl looked away from him. Her face had hardened, or hardened about as much as someone in her state could manage, and she seemed like she was talking herself into speaking. At this point, he couldn't blame her if she wanted to step down; now that she knew, and now that everyone would know thanks to Skeeter, it only made sense that she would want nothing to do with him. He lowered his eyes, not really looking at anything.
"... maybe he did that in the past," Mary said. "But that doesn't mean he's the same as he was before."
Severus looked back up at Mary.
"You will vouch for his character?" Abraxas asked, some surprise and irritation in his voice.
"This past year, Sev's worked himself to death to make things right between him and Lily. And even if he only spent time with me because of her, he's been nothing but decent. He'll fight like hell to protect his friends, and if you think he ought to be sent to Azkaban for it, then you can go ahead and send me there as well!"
All eyes were on Mary, and Severus could tell that quite a few of the people present were shocked by what she had to say. But no one there was more shocked than Severus himself. He'd just confessed to helping Mulciber lace Mary's chocolates with purging potions, something he'd been told had horrified her, and she was still defending him. Out of the periphery of his bad eye, he could see her hand shaking by her side, unsure whether to close into a fist or remain open and relaxed.
"Does the witness have anything else to add?" Crouch asked.
"N-no, sir," Mary said meekly.
"And does the defense have anything else to say?"
"The defense rests," Dumbledore said.
"The witness may be seated."
Mary walked off to the side, and Severus couldn't help but turn his head to follow her. He realized that Mary's parents, as well as Brandy, were present. Out of his good eye, he could see that her father's face was hard, and out of his bad eye, he could see her mother raise something to her face.
"While it is true that the acts committed against Miss MacDonald are indeed monstrous," Crouch said, "the accused has been brought before the Wizengamot due to the safety and wellbeing of the underage perpetrators. Each member present has reviewed the written report, noting the remains of those who had Disapparated. As there is yet insufficient evidence of the deaths of any one of the underage perpetrators, this matter remains inconclusive. Those in favor of postponement of the verdict, until sufficient evidence is presented before the Wizengamot?"
A majority of hands were raised.
"Postponement," Crouch said, banging his gavel. "Severus Snape will remain detained until further evidence is uncovered.
"Severus Snape, you shall remain detained at Azkaban Prison-"
"No!" Most heads turned to Mary, who tried jumping out of her seat, and would have succeeded if not for her father holding her back.
"- until sufficient evidence of either innocence or guilt is brought before this court. Hearing adjourned." Crouch banged his gavel, and the members of the Wizengamot, as well as those invited, stood from their seats.
Severus could hear Mary protesting over Crouch's decision, but whatever she was saying was minor compared to the soul-chilling sensation of the dementors reentering the room. He felt their skeletal hands grab hold of his arms as the golden chains slid off, and he found himself being escorted back out of the room.
With each second that passed, the air grew colder, and Severus was brought back to reality. Seeing Mary stand up for him was admirable, but he knew it was just out of obligation and pity. Then again, at least she had the decency to show up, unlike Lily. His only comfort was that this Lily wasn't really his; he and the professor were in agreement on that. No, the professor's Lily was gone, and this Lily's Severus had been hijacked by a pretender. A fake. Lily would go off and be with Potter, have their son, and potentially survive the war to come. And even if they died, they would be with each other on the other side (assuming both Lily and Potter were Sorted into the same afterlife), where they were free from danger.
Severus would be alone, and he would deserve it.
Regulus I
Saturday, 9 April 1977
WARNING: the following contains Voldemort, as well as physical and emotional abuse, inappropriate touching, coercion, and dubious consent involving a minor/minors.
Regulus was the last to arrive at the gathering in Lucius's estate; Father's health had declined sharply in the past week, and Mother was busy writing letters regarding Uncle Alphard's fortune. He had to admit to himself that he was more nervous now than he'd ever been, especially with the confirmation Lucius sent regarding the presence of their guest of honor. While his name wasn't explicitly listed, Regulus knew who it would be.
The Dark Lord.
As Kreacher walked Regulus to the door, Regulus turned and said, "I'm sure Cissy will let you stay in the kitchens with Dobby."
"Kreacher will abide by Madam Narcissa's decision," Kreacher said, bowing his head. "It is an honor for Master to attend such a party."
"Indeed." Regulus took a deep breath to relax himself before knocking on the door. A moment passed before it opened, and a house-elf popped his head out.
"Regulus Black has arrived!" Dobby said, bowing his head. "Master Lucius and Madam Narcissa have been worried."
"I apologize," Regulus said, but he saw that Dobby was beginning to tear up at the sentiment. He quickly corrected, "I apologize to them for being late. You will show Kreacher to the kitchens, yes?"
"Of course, sir," Dobby said. "Kreacher will follow Dobby."
Kreacher sneered at the other house-elf but obeyed.
Regulus walked in, shutting the door behind him, just as Narcissa walked into the antechamber. "Cissy!"
"Lucius has been worried sick!" Narcissa briskly walked over to Regulus and quickly kissed him on the cheek.
"I apologize," Regulus said. "I assume the festivities have started?"
"They have," Narcissa said in a subdued manner.
"What is it?"
"... we have a guest," Narcissa said slowly, and she unexpectedly rested her hands on his arms. "Listen to me very carefully. I don't know all of the details, but this isn't a normal gathering. Lucius has reinforced the wards for today, and… Regulus, please be careful."
"Cissy, I have no doubt that everything will be fine," Regulus said, although Narcissa was starting to worry him.
Narcissa's stare made Regulus shrink back. "He's going to focus his attention on you."
"Who?"
"... the Dark Lord."
Regulus froze. "Why?"
"I've no idea, but Lucius seems to think that you're more important, now that…. Stay by Lucius and Bella and follow their lead."
"Of course," Regulus said gently. The enthusiasm he had felt upon arriving had gone ice-cold. "Perhaps, I should go in now?"
"Follow me."
Narcissa led Regulus from the antechamber to just outside the dining room before the two of them stopped. "Are you not coming in?" Regulus asked.
"I need to manage the house-elves," Narcissa explained, although Regulus knew that wasn't the real reason. He'd never seen her in such a state. "Have fun. And remember what I told you."
"Of course," Regulus said. Narcissa turned and left, and Regulus entered the dining room.
The table was laid out with a variety of food and drink, and the aroma in the air would have made Regulus's mouth water if not for his shock at seeing the people sitting down. To his right sat Rosier, Mulciber, Avery, Wilkes, the Carrows, and the other Slytherins that had disappeared from public view; a few of the younger ones, along with Avery and Mulciber, were missing limbs. To his left, across from his classmates, sat Lucius, Bellatrix and the Lestrange brothers, Antonin Dolohov, Lords Nott and Mulciber, and a few faces he didn't recognize.
And at the head of the table sat a man.
The man had jet black hair, save for the silver above his ears, and he had a pale, waxy complexion. His eyes, which were as black as his hair, were bloodshot, to the point where Regulus thought they might weep blood. He wore a black robe, the sleeves of which were loose and flowing, and he was wearing some sort of locket around his neck. The man had just set his golden cup down for someone to pour his wine before he looked up, locking eyes with Regulus.
"Ah, Lucius!" the man said in a soft, yet silencing voice. "It would seem that our final guest has arrived."
"Indeed, my Lord," Lucius said, bowing his head before glancing at Regulus.
Regulus's blood ran cold as he realized he was staring eye-to-eye with the Dark Lord himself.
"We have a seat for you," the Dark Lord said, gesturing to the chair between Mulciber and Rosier. "Come, Regulus."
There was something about the voice that frightened and tantalized Regulus, and he quickly bowed his head before hurrying to the seat. "I am grateful to be here, my Lord," Regulus said, too afraid to make eye contact again.
"But of course," the Dark Lord said, his voice relaxing. "We were just discussing the events surrounding the Snape trial. Have you heard?"
"I have read some, my Lord," Regulus answered. He wasn't sure if he should continue speaking, or if he had already spoken too much.
"Have you?" the Dark Lord asked curiously. "I myself found it rather amusing that young Snape had been accused of vampirism." The adults at the table all chuckled at the remark, but were immediately silenced when the Dark Lord raised his hand. "Shall we feast?"
The feast was one of the most nerve-wracking experiences Regulus had felt up to that point. While most of the adults were talking about miscellaneous things, he noticed that the Dark Lord had leaned over to Mulciber Sr. and whispered something into his ear. The man's face remained blank, before his eyes darted to his son, whose own eyes were downcast as he tried navigating some sliced pork onto his fork with his remaining hand. It was a miracle in itself that he'd survived the encounter with Snape, but the expression on the older boy's face made him question whether dying would have been preferable to him.
After some time had passed, the Dark Lord raised one hand, grabbing the attention of everyone in the dining room. "My friends," he began, "tonight's feast has been enjoyable, has it not?" Before anyone could answer, he quickly continued, "Your wife has my compliments, Lucius."
"Thank you, my Lord," Lucius said, his face seemingly warming. "I will tell her of your praise."
"Indeed." The Dark Lord looked around and said, "However, I confess that tonight could do with some more entertainment. How long has it been since we played the Pain Game?"
Regulus's eyes flickered from the Dark Lord to Lucius, and he saw the latter's face pale. "I-it has been some time, my Lord," Lucius answered carefully.
"Some time," the Dark Lord mused. "Shall we play tonight?"
"May I play as well, my Lord?" Bellatrix blurted out, her eyes wide with excitement and-
"Do you speak out of turn, Bellatrix?"
The room went deathly silent, and Regulus felt his heart stop. The Dark Lord's eyes were now locked on Bellatrix, the latter now cowing her head, her eyes fixed to her plate and her lip quivering. She looked as though she wished to speak, but her throat looked restricted.
The Dark Lord's cold anger vanished all but instantly as he calmly said, "One must mind one's tongue, yes?"
"... yes, my Lord," Bellatrix choked out, tears now trickling down her face.
"Yes. Yes, indeed." The Dark Lord suddenly stood and swept his arms out wide, and Regulus gripped his chair as his chair, along with everyone else's chairs, slid back and hit the walls. With another motion, this time with his wand, the Dark Lord cleared the table of food and drink, having the plates and silverware tidy themselves up, before moving the table to the side of the room. "Now then, I require participants. Anyone?"
"Me, my Lord," Bellatrix said, quickly approaching and bowing her head. Regulus watched as Dolohov and Lord Nott also approached, then followed by the remaining adults in the room. Lucius was the last.
"And… no volunteers from our younger guests?" The Dark Lord's eyes were locked onto Regulus's. There was something about them that both chilled him to the core, and yet he felt… invited.
Regulus found himself on his feet and bowing as he said, "I-I would be honored, my Lord."
"Yes, you would," the Dark Lord said in agreement. "No one else?"
Regulus heard chairs slide as Rosier and Wilkes stood.
"... very well," the Dark Lord said, clearly disappointed. "It seems only a few of you are worthy."
More chairs slid, and Regulus found his other schoolmates standing, or struggling to stand given that some of them were missing legs. Avery was the last to join, and he kept Mulciber from falling.
"Better," the Dark Lord said. "Now, then… shall we begin with the adults?" He flicked his hand, and a bottle appeared. "A gift from my spy within the Ministry. Apparently, it is a potion that simulates the Cruciatus Curse. I have made modifications to it to increase the effects and duration."
"Ingenious, my Lord," Mulciber Sr. remarked.
"I know," the Dark Lord said coolly. "I believe… two drops should do, yes? Stick out your tongues. The man on his feet wins." He flicked his hand, and the liquid within floated out, almost like a collection of amorphous bubbles.
Lucius and Bellatrix opened their mouths, as did the others from their side of the table. Bellatrix had a look of desperate hunger in her eye as she waited for the drop to touch down, as though the Dark Lord was giving her something sacred. Regulus felt his heart race as he waited in anticipation.
And then the drops dropped.
Almost immediately, the room was filled with inhuman screaming, and a couple of the adults collapsed. Regulus's blood went cold at the sight of Lucius's desperately-twisting face, the blond man's hands balling into fists with such force that droplets of red trickled down his hands.
"Eliminated," the Dark Lord said in a soft, echoing voice. "Pitiful."
More disturbing was the way Bellatrix was responding to the pain. She was whimpering, her head craned and her eyes rolling into the back of her head as her whole body seemed to rhythmically tighten and relax. She seemed to waver, almost stumbling backward, but she caught herself, arching her entire trembling body, and she seemed to mouth something in repetition. And when Regulus saw her flushed face, he finally realized why the sight disturbed him: she was enjoying it.
Soon, all that remained were Lucius and Bellatrix, the former too prideful to fall, and the latter desperate to hold onto her state of ecstasy. Regulus's mind was racing, trying to fit together why Lucius wouldn't want to fall, but he knew as soon as he saw the expression on the Dark Lord's face. Whenever someone fell, he was disgusted, but looking at the suffering of those who remained…. it seemed to please him. And his eyes were currently fixated on the way Bellatrix contorted before him, the way she wept with each passing second. And from what Regulus could see, Rodolphus and Rabastan, who had hobbled to the side of the room, were eyeing her as well, with a certain shade of humiliation at the sight of Bellatrix's… presentation before the Dark Lord.
In the end, there could only be one winner. Lucius collapsed, his knees hitting the floor hard, and the Dark Lord let out a cold, celebratory cry. "We have a winner! Bellatrix, you have done well. Come to me for your reward."
Bellatrix desperately crawled to the Dark Lord, stopping before his feet and kissing the hem of his robe as she cried out, "Let me keep your pain, my Lord!"
"... do you deny my gift?"
Bellatrix let out a whimper. "N-no, my Lord, forgive me!"
"I do not forgive, my dear girl. Open your mouth."
Bellatrix shut her eyes and opened her mouth, extending her tongue.
The Dark Lord took out another bottle and wet the tip of his finger before running it along her tongue, and her body stilled from its previous rocking. Bellatrix had an empty look in her eye, the euphoria she felt before having been stripped from her, along with the pain.
"Step aside," the Dark Lord said without a hint of compassion.
Bellatrix walked to the side of the room, as though her heart had been broken.
"And now… let our young guests step forth," the Dark Lord said. "To see if any of you are worthy."
Regulus hesitantly stepped forward, as did the others. Rosier seemed the least shaken by tonight's events, which was a small comfort. But what made Regulus unnerved was the look on Mulciber's face, one of immeasurable dread that seemed to surpass even Avery. As they all lined up before the Dark Lord, the bottle to the pain potion was opened.
"Your tongues," the Dark Lord said. "As you are new to this, I will only administer one drop each."
Regulus, like everyone else, stuck his tongue out, and he received the drop of the potion. Pain erupted from his very skin, as though his nerves were trying to claw their way out, and he let out a scream silenced by the screams of his classmates. Surprisingly, Mulciber was the first to fall, only seconded by Avery.
"Mulciber, your son disappoints me," the Dark Lord said, his soft voice somehow dominant over the cacophony in the room. "And yet…."
Regulus braced himself, widening his stance so he would be less likely to fall one way or the other, and his classmates fell to the ground one by one, leaving himself, Rosier, and Wilkes. As he twisted his head in one direction, following the flow of the torture, he could see that Wilkes was weeping, her face contorted into something terrible, her hand trying to crush Rosier's. Rosier seemed to be the most composed, if only out of pride. Of them all, Rosier stood at the top of the Slytherins at Hogwarts.
But Rosier had failed.
Rosier had compromised his place as the Basilisk by taking part in Mulciber's 'private lessons'. Rosier was the one who ran away, the one who lost to Snape. Rosier had been gone for two months. Yes, despite his previous status, Evan Rosier was, at the end of the day, reckless; he had effectively lost his place at Hogwarts.
Regulus Black was not Evan Rosier.
Regulus had done exactly what he was told. He had delivered the book into the hands of someone who fit Lucius's exact specifications. He had performed his duties as a Prefect and kept an eye on Snape, He had twice smuggled the book out from an unknown source, as well as the Felix Felicis won by Evans. And most importantly, he had used his knowledge of astrological signs and uncovered Snape's date of birth to see if he aligned with the prophecy more than Lockhart.
It was a simple matter of what Regulus and Rosier had been raised to be. Rosier was a Rosier, just like any Rosier, and there would be more Rosiers if Evan should pass away. But Regulus knew what he was meant to be, especially after Sirius had betrayed his blood and sided with James Potter and other blood-traitors and undesirables: the heir to the name that all true witches and wizards shared blood with.
Rosier was a Rosier. But Regulus was the House of Black.
A heat passed through Regulus's chest, a fuel that froze his legs solid so that he couldn't fall, even if he wanted to. He certainly wanted to, but his pride wouldn't allow it. Even at the sound of Wilkes dropping to the ground with a wail, his pride wouldn't allow it. He was the House of Black.
Each moment of victory and defeat came to Regulus. Memories of when he first watched Mother beat Sirius, and memories when he first watched Sirius hit Kreacher. When Mother and Father heard that Sirius was a Gryffindor, and when they heard Regulus was a Slytherin. When Sirius shouted at him, and when he shouted back, and when Mother took her wand to her eldest son. When Sirius ran away from home, and when Regulus received his badge. Once, he was the second son. Now, he was the House of Black.
Rosier slowly sank to the ground, his knees not quite touching, as though he was trying to hold himself up. Regulus could hear the voices of others, but he couldn't tell if they were cheering or anguishing. He wanted nothing more than to let his voice escape from his throat, but that wasn't what the Dark Lord wanted. He wanted a victor, he wanted someone worthy from among the young to become their example. The new god of this world was looking for a chosen one, and the only one worthy of it was the one who obeyed without error.
Regulus looked over at Rosier and knew what he had to do. Raising his hand, balling it into a fist, he swung and struck Rosier in the back of the head, causing the latter to fall forward and hit the ground.
Only one could win, and if anyone, it would be the House of Black.
The Dark Lord let out a laugh unlike the cold echoes from before. There was a genuine mirth to it as the man looked down on Rosier, who struggled to help Wilkes up and take her to the side of the room. "How very Slytherin of you!" the Dark Lord exclaimed as his eyes locked with Regulus, his smile widening as his eyes filled with power. "Come and receive your reward, Regulus."
Regulus stumbled forward, staying on his feet until the last step, after which he fell hard on his knees. "My lord," Regulus said painfully.
"Tongue." The Dark Lord placed a drop of the antidote on his fingertip.
Regulus opened his mouth, and he felt something pass through him as the Dark Lord's finger ran along his tongue. It was as though there were butterflies in his stomach, but it was hard to tell given the cold wave that traveled up and down his spine, as well as the heat that traveled to his face. The pain was gone, but he was aching… and it felt better than it should.
Regulus felt his breath catch as he found himself staring into the Dark Lord's eyes. He felt like an animal of prey, looking down the wand of a hunter, knowing that the end had come for him. And yet the hunter refused to end it, because he knew all the power was with him. The power to dominate, to control. This was the power of the Dark Lord.
And Regulus wanted more.
"Curious," the Dark Lord said softly, his thumb tracing Regulus's cheek. He suddenly looked up and said, "Mulciber, come to me."
Regulus didn't turn, but he heard two sets of uneven footsteps.
"Senior," the Dark Lord corrected.
One stopped, and the other continued approaching. Regulus looked at Mulciber Sr., who was now leaning down for the Dark Lord's words. "My lord," Mulciber Sr. said formally.
"Evan, Marcus, Alexander, Amycus, Alecto, and Wendy."
Regulus saw Mulciber Sr.'s eyes widen slightly. "... y-yes, my lord."
"Problem?" the Dark Lord asked coldly.
Mulciber Sr. shook his head.
"As I thought," the Dark Lord said with a sort of energy behind his voice, as though Mulciber Sr.'s discomfort fueled him. "The others are free."
"Free?"
The Dark Lord went quiet, his hand withdrawing from Regulus's warming face. "When I gave you my command, did I mean it?" he asked.
"Y-yes, my lord."
"Yes, I did." The Dark Lord said nothing else.
Mulciber Sr. stepped away and walked over to where Regulus's classmates were, and he heard him lead them out of the room.
"Lucius, Bellatrix," the Dark Lord called out. "You are to remain. Everyone else may go where they wish."
Regulus heard the room empty, and two sets of footsteps shakily approached from behind.
"Bellatrix," the Dark Lord said, "you may kneel beside your cousin."
Bellatrix appeared by Regulus's side, and the Dark Lord began giving her the same treatment as he had done Regulus. "Thank you, my Lord."
"You must wish for more pain," the Dark Lord cooed.
Bellatrix nodded into his hand.
"Not yet," the Dark Lord assured her. "But soon… should your husband permit you to remain with me for the evening."
"... my Lord," Bellatrix whimpered, tears beginning to trickle down her face.
The Dark Lord looked at the two hungrily before looking up at Lucius. He said, "You would say that Regulus is a worthy candidate, yes?"
"I would, my lord," Lucius replied. "He has shown to be perfect in his role, unlike… others."
"I had noticed," the Dark Lord said. "Regulus. Bellatrix."
Regulus and Bellatrix's eyes locked before turning their attention to the Dark Lord. "My Lord?" Bellatrix asked.
"I will require your devotion and subservience in future. And this will require the use of your servant."
"My Lord, I have no servants," Bellatrix said in confusion.
"No?" The Dark Lord's hand suddenly caught Bellatrix by the back of her hair and roughly pulled her to his face, a mad glee in his eye despite his curled lip. "Am I mistaken?"
"I-I am wrong," Bellatrix quickly said.
"So you lied to me?"
"N-no-"
"Am I a liar?"
"I spoke foolishly," Bellatrix whimpered, and her face was one of pure despair. "I deserve to be punished."
"You would want that," the Dark Lord said, "and so I will deny you that pleasure." He suddenly released his hold of Bellatrix, and she collapsed back to the floor, her head downcast as she trembled. "Regulus?"
"I have a house-elf," Regulus said quickly. "Kreacher will be of good use-"
"Have you decided how useful he is to me?"
Regulus froze. "... I overstep, my lord." His heart was beating in his chest as the Dark Lord's invisible hold on him seemed to grow tighter, as though those cold fingers hadn't moved a centimeter.
"... Lucius," the Dark Lord said.
"My lord?"
"Of all those who have presented themselves before me for the first time, young Regulus has learned the fastest." Regulus felt his apprehension melt away.
"Regulus does his blood a great service," Lucius confirmed.
"As any heir should be," the Dark Lord said. "Regulus… you have passed my tests."
Regulus was confused. "Your tests, my lord?"
"Your service to Lucius has been nothing if not for my own machinations." The Dark Lord cupped Regulus's face with one hand and drew him closer, his eyes never breaking contact. "But nothing compares to delivering the vial into my hands."
"... I hope it will serve you well, my lord."
"It will… at Hogwarts."
Regulus was confused. "My lord?"
"Such a powerful potion is best used where my true plan must be fulfilled."
Regulus had even more questions, which he desperately wanted answered.
"Evan Rosier was the only one among the students of Slytherin privy to my plans at Hogwarts," the Dark Lord said. "But now that he is to be transferred to his new role, that responsibility now belongs to you. Shall I reveal to you what Evan knew?"
Regulus nodded excitedly. "Please, my lord."
The Dark Lord smiled, a cold smile that sent shivers through Regulus's body. "I will begin with Severus Snape himself." There was a pause, and he continued, "You must wonder why I say his name and not Gilderoy Lockhart's."
Regulus nodded.
"It begins with the prophecy of the Half-Blood Prince, which you delivered to me. Born in the first month to Muggle and witch. Lucius told me about your theory on the precise date of birth and its correlation to prophecy. Do you know why Severus Snape is the Half-Blood Prince, and not Gilderoy Lockhart?"
"... common sense?" Regulus's answer seemed to give the Dark Lord an amused smile, and he felt a wave of euphoria pass through every inch of him.
"The message you sent to Lucius. Capricorn." The Dark Lord pulled Regulus closer, his other hand, resting against the small of his back as he all but held him. His breath tickled Regulus's skin as he whispered ever-so-softly, "I too am a Capricorn."
Regulus felt his mouth open in surprise.
"Few know this," the Dark Lord whispered softly, each word caressing Regulus's ear. "Consider this secret part of your reward."
"... you are most gracious," Regulus breathed out. He was growing worried about how hot his body felt.
"Of course, I am," the Dark Lord replied, pulling away and allowing Regulus to go back down on his knees. "And do you know why I tell you any of this?"
"... because Evan failed you."
The Dark Lord stared at Regulus with an odd look. "Explain," he said in a curious tone.
"... he was involved in the attack on the MacDonald girl, which caused him to part ways with Hogwarts."
The Dark Lord's eyes seemed to flash red for a moment, and Regulus was taken aback. "Yes," the Dark Lord said. "Yes, Evan deviated from his instructions. And he, along with others, will pay."
"... my lord?"
The Dark Lord gave Regulus a cold look, but it relaxed as the latter felt the former fingers begin tracing his jawbone. "Because of that day, my plans have been set back. You will have to play your part and return the black book to its usual place."
"And what of the Felix Felicis?"
The Dark Lord almost looked irritated, but something akin to realization seemed to dawn on him. "Ah, of course! I had quite forgotten to tell you. The bottle you brought to me was a fake."
Regulus blinked.
"As I have said, the potion is of more use to me at Hogwarts. My plan to perfect myself demands its presence there."
"... my lord, if I may ask," Regulus said with as much caution as possible, "why was I given a fake bottle…?" The question led Regulus to his answer. "... it was a test of loyalty…!"
The Dark Lord smiled. "I wished to see if you would keep it for yourself or present it to me. That is why I have deemed you worthy."
"You honor me, my lord."
"I do." The Dark Lord ran his fingers down Regulus's face and the length of his neck, until they were firmly around his left arm. He gingerly pulled up Regulus's sleeve, revealing his unmarked flesh. Teasing a pattern with his fingernail, the Dark Lord said, "Lucius, you have my permission to leave."
"Yes, my lord." Lucius left the room, his footsteps disappearing as the door was shut.
"Regulus," the Dark Lord said softly. "I will give you ten minutes of free time, during which you may inform your parents that you will be late coming home. After that, you will return here."
"Thank you, my lord." Regulus felt the Dark Lord's touch leave him, and he got to his feet and bowed before leaving the room, watching as Bellatrix eased her way onto the Dark Lord's lap.
Regulus found a secluded part of the manor, his heart racing from what had happened. He was worthy; the Dark Lord had placed his trust in him! He excitedly whispered, "Kreacher!"
Kreacher popped to Regulus's side. "Master Regulus is in need?"
"No," Regulus said, kneeling down. "What I'm about to tell you must never be told to Mother or Father. Can you promise me?"
"Kreacher promises."
Regulus smiled with excitement, his heart beginning to flutter. "In the future, the… the Dark Lord will require your services. Whatever he asks of you, you must do."
"Kreacher will do as he is told," Kreacher said solemnly, a hint of pride in his voice.
"And I'll be late coming home tonight."
"For what reason?"
"Future career prospects," Regulus half-lied.
"Very well."
"And Kreacher."
"Yes, sir?"
"When the Dark Lord is finished with you, return directly to me."
Kreacher nodded. "Kreacher will return to Master Regulus."
Regulus had never felt such exhilaration, knowing that he was part of a greater plan. And knowing that his role was vital to the cause fueled him. "Thank you, Kreacher. That is all."
Kreacher Disapparated, and Regulus returned to the room where the Dark Lord and Bellatrix were. As he opened the door and shut it behind him, he could see that the Dark Lord was whispering into Bellatrix's ear, one hand tracing her back, the other resting on her thigh. The look on Bellatrix's face was difficult to read, but it seemed she was struggling between nervousness and excitement.
The Dark Lord looked up and met Regulus's eye. "You are early," he said coldly. "Very well. You seem eager."
"I am, my lord," Regulus said.
"Good. Come with me." The Dark Lord all but threw Bellatrix off his lap as he stood, showing his full height. He was taller than Regulus had expected, as though he had been born for the sole purpose of looking down on his lessers. As though he was born for power.
Regulus and Bellatrix followed the Dark Lord out of the room and into a corridor, which they walked down until they stopped outside one of the doors. The Dark Lord opened it, revealing a guest room, which had been prepared in advance.
As they stepped inside, the Dark Lord locked the door behind them. "Regulus," he said, "sit in the chair."
Regulus hurried to the chair and pulled it up beside the bed. His heart began to race, as he realized what was happening. When he had come here, he didn't know what to expect, and he had been filled with a lingering dread. Now that he had met the Dark Lord in-person, he wasn't sure how to feel. He was certainly afraid, without question, but within the fear was a sort of… hunger. Excitement, even. Looking into his eyes, feeling his fingers on him, made Regulus question himself and how he was reacting. Did anyone else get this treatment?
As though to answer the question, the Dark Lord said, "Not many are like you, Regulus. You and Bellatrix… are exceptions among the exceptional." The two of them were now facing each other, and Regulus's face warmed.
"Thank you, my lord."
"You're welcome," the Dark Lord said with a hunger in his eye. "Bellatrix, get on the bed."
Severus II
Expecto Patronum…. Expecto Patronum…. Expecto Patronum…. Expecto Patronum…. Expecto Patronum…. Expecto Patronum…. Expecto Patronum…. Expecto Patronum…. Expecto Patronum…. Expecto Patronum….
Author's Notes
Tom Marvolo Riddle (Slytherin)
-Date of Birth: 31 December 1926
-Hogwarts Years: 1938 - 1945 (Prefect, Head Boy)
-Wand: yew, phoenix feather, 13 1/2"