~Sunday 20 December - Near to One in the morning
I don't know where to begin. I returned from Malfoy Manor nearly two hours ago and I am still sickened by all that I have done and all that I have witnessed.
Writing about it will do little to ease my mind. Speaking with Dumbledore about the evening certainly did not help. Awful. I can still sense the taint of it upon me, as if the very air of the place was cursed. It is trapped in my lungs. I want to cough it out but I can't. Their malice creeps beneath my skin - I want to scratch that out, but it will never leave me. How can it? The scar upon my arm seals the black poison within me forever. It has always been in me. I am one of them.
It was I who said those things tonight. What does it matter that I lied for the sake of her son? It will not change who I am or what I have done. Had I not become one of them with them in the first place none of this would be necessary. They would all be alive. Dumbledore would not be stuck with me. His plans would concern the school and nothing more...
Dumbledore and his plans... This morning I thought I had been so cleaver when I recalled the fact that Dumbledore had asked me just weeks ago to retrieve my old Death Eater robes. Of course he had done so - because he had meant for me to wear them as soon as an opportunity such as this was to arise. I nearly went to his office to ask him if he would like me to wear them tonight. I would show him that I could keep up with his schemes but then I caught myself. He would not want that, - not tonight. No point in trying to look the part, for that would only be more obvious. No, my robes are meant for a far more sinister night that might not occur for years to come. I hate this.
To make matters worse - when the time came to leave, Dumbledore walked me to the gates of the grounds and stood by my side while I Disapparated. Evidently he could trust me to attend the gathering alone, but not walk the path to the gate by myself. I may have vowed to stay two steps ahead of him and to always know his mind, but sometimes I have no desire to understand his logic.
I held my head up and hid my fear - saying nothing to him. When I turned to Disapparate and let the darkness take me, I felt as though I was hurdling into another life. If only I had been. Still I tried to embrace the feeling for as long as I could.
My feet slammed into the ground. The deafening sound of my Apparition still echoed through out the trees all around me. I kept looking over my shoulder to make certain that no one else was near, but I stood alone in the dark on the gravel road. I had spent the morning preparing for any situation. I knew there would be a good chance that I might have Apparated at the same time as another set of guests and would then be forced to make conversation on my way to the gates. I was relieved to see that I was alone. I could prolong the act of making small talk for a few more minutes.
The night was too silent and unnaturally still. There was a biting cold in the air - it cut straight through my clothes and into my marrow. Once again I wished for a warm coat. I shuttered, but above me the sky was clear and full of stars. It was a breath taking sight, and enough to give me hope.
I began to make my way up the wooded road, glancing behind me every now and then to ensure that I was still alone. There was no sound but for the stony path shifting and crunching beneath my boots. Still I couldn't help but to look back over my shoulder. I was a twitchy boy again - too frightened to walk into the lion's den of The Great Hall, and then I saw it - Malfoy Manor looming ahead of me on the horizon like the clouds an oncoming storm.
This was not my place I thought as I turned onto the long, hedge flanked path that lead to the mansion. Where it ended, a set of large wrought iron gates waited. I felt like a rat penned into an inescapable maze, for the path was so narrow and the hedges at my sides were too solid and far too perfect. They might have been carved from stone. I presumed that in summer the green leaves would be quite lovely to look upon, but tonight they were still and dead. The gnarled branches looked positively hostile, but they were nothing compared with the mansion itself.
The imposing structure obscured the very sky. Malfoy Manor was a castle unto itself - far too large for a family of three and a few servants. Each floor seemed to grow larger than the one beneath it. Above them an endless series of towers scratched at the sky as if they were the claws of a giant great monster, threatening to tear down the stars and bury their light beneath the grounds of the mansion.
A few steps before I reached the gate and began to wonder how I would go about opening them. What if they were locked? A sudden panic gripped me - was I really meant to come tonight? Was this some sort of a trap set by the Death Eaters or even Dumbledore himself!? A series of terrors played out in my mind when suddenly the gate swung open of it's own accord.
I stepped through, only to see that it hadn't open on its own. A tiny little House Elf stood cowering behind the black iron bars. He reached only as far as my knee, and judging from the relative cleanliness of the tea towel that hung from his tiny pink shoulders - he was practically a baby. I had been cold with out a winter coat - but he must have been freezing. The poor thing wore a forced smile upon his face, and I could see how it pained him. His huge green eyes seemed tear stained and full fear. "Please sir, this way. Master is expecting you," he said.
"Sir." He'd called me Sir. No one ever calls me Sir. I felt very out of place as I followed the waif of an elf up to the front porch. On one side was a set of stone stairs. On the opposite side there was nothing but a four-foot drop. I'd never seen such a thing outside of books, but at least I felt less of a fool knowing that the lack of steps was for mounting horse and stepping into carriages. When I looked up, the mansion it seemed had stretched even taller. What am I doing - I thought to myself. I watched the elf hop up the steps and I stepped up behind him. With a snap of his fingers, the massive wooden front doors began to open. From the thunderous sound of creaking wood and iron that roared forth from the doors, be might well have been raising the portcullis of some great keep.
Inside I could see two twin chandeliers, each lit by what seemed to be several hundred candles. As numerous as they were, the flames gave off little luminescence. The gray stonewalls seemed to devour the light. Sound on the other hand they only helped to amplify as instants later I heard his voice from far across the hall. My heart raced. For a moment I felt as though I were trapped in the past or one of my nightmares. Would that it were only in my mind. I had to steady my heart and control my emotions. The nightmare was far from over, this was mealy the beginning and I could not afford to show any form of intimidation at all, so I walked with as much pride as I could feign towards the sound of his voice.
"Severus," he had said. "I feared I might not see you again. It is an honor to welcome you to our home." Beside Lucius stood his wife Narcissa. She forced herself to smile at me, but not so well as the elf had done just moments earlier.
"Thank you Lucius," I said to him, but I could feel her eyes upon me. I turned to look at her, "Narcissa," I knew my orders but I couldn't help it. "I was sorry to hear about your sister," I truly was sorry - for her sake.
"Thank you," she whispered to me. She held her head up in an effort to remain strong, but I had the curtsey to look away the moment I saw her eyes begin to glisten. Fuck. Now I'd done it. I had not planned for my weakness of heart and thus had no plan or rehearsed line that I might use to change subject in such a moment. Useless words began to race through my mind, but thankfully then - through the grace of God, Lucius spoke and did what I could not.
"Thank you Severus," he said quietly. "We have all been saddened by the turn of events but we will do all that is within our power to see that matters are set right. As to you, I do believe congratulations are in order. We were all pleased to hear that you had been given role of Potions Master and named the Head of Slytherin. You do our house a great honor."
I wanted so much to hate him in that instant, but was the first time that anyone had congratulated me on the appointment - false though the appointment and the compliment itself had been. Still, I held up my head and looked him in the eye to express my gratitude -
And that's when I saw it. The sickening realization -
I must learn from him.
There is no denying it. Lucius Malfoy has a gift for words that few others posses. Not even Nereus Avery could match Malfoy's ability to charm everyone that he meets. After all, he had just seduced me, hadn't he?
He had, for when I responded I did so with sincerity, "Thank you Lucius," I told him, "It means a great deal to me to hear you say that. It is my intention to uphold the honor of our house, for all those who have passed through its halls, and for The Dark Lord himself."
A deeply satisfied grin crossed his face, "I never doubted you Severus," he nearly purred. "It was well known to me that The Dark Lord had asked you to take up a post at Hogwarts, and while I know that Potions Master was not the position that he had requested, I am pleased to see that you are off to a promising start."
"I mean to continue on and to carry out his orders as planned," I told him with no hesitation.
"As do we all. Please," he said gesturing to the doors behind him, "My home is yours. The others are just inside. I will be joining you all shortly."
I nodded and then backed away from them. I made my way towards the hall, the sound of many voices grew nearer, and that's when it hit me - the gravity of what I had done. I'd said it. I'd said that I would do my best for the sake of The Dark Lord. I lied - but I had spoken those words with such conviction and yet I didn't flinch or feel a thing. The ease with which I had done it terrified me. But I have always been a good liar, why fear it now? Confused and troubled, I nearly froze in my tracks but I had reached the threshold. I was about to enter a room full of the highest-ranking Death Eater that remained free after the war. I could not afford to question what I was that I was doing. I had to seem as one of them or all would be lost.
I walked inside, but I could not shake my fear. There were so many of them - all grouped together, deep in conversations. What should I do? I was in the Common Room again - feeling lost and alone with no one to talk to. My primary objective was to speak with as many Death Eaters as possible and to gain their trust, but I didn't even know where to start. What could I do? Already I was failing.
Wine.
There was a table. The elf that I had seen outside was hurrying about to fill as many glasses as he could before he was called upon again to open the gate. I waited for him to finish before I walked over to the table and took a glass. At least if I had it to hold in my hand to drink from occasionally - I wouldn't feel so lost. Even the feel of the glass stem brought a comfort to me as I lifted it from the table. I glanced around to make certain that no one had seen me before retreating to the nearest corner. I hated myself for I felt like a coward - I knew would have to enter into a conversation at some point, but I still had no idea how to do it.
I was about to curse myself once again for fearing them, but as I considered the matter I began to realize that I had been right to hide. I am not some eager little puppy - bounding up to people that I do not know seeking affection - nor could I seem to be. I need to be aloof and let them come to me so as not to show any weakness. Only an idiot runs into battle with out first fully understanding the enemy - so stood in the corner silently as I studied my surroundings.
Naturally my eyes first sought to find all available exits. This took some time, as the room was nearly as large as The Great Hall. The dark wood paneled walls stretched to about thirty feet high. Above them, the vaulted ceiling was as ornately carved as those of the great cathedrals. Supporting it were stone columns that might well have been used in an ancient Roman Temple. Even more impressive was the monument of a fireplace that stood larger than many of the houses in the town where I grew up. Hogwarts had nothing to match it.
The room was host to nearly forty wizards and witches. Everyone was richly dressed in silk and velvet. They wore black, deep emerald greens or rich burgundy robes embroidered in silver or gold spirals. I felt so terribly out of place in my plain clothing. Even if I had worn my old robes, they would not have matched the splendor of those worn by all of the guests tonight. Funny, even as I stood there feeling as an insect among them, I remembered just why I like the clothing that I wear. I hate to wear ornate things just as I hate it when people stare at me. I'd rather not be seen at all. I was finally beginning to accept my place in the corner as I made further note of all those around me.
I noticed that most of them were adults but a few were young children - though none so young that they ran about in a loud, playful manner. They all stood still and straight like well trained dogs beside their parents. I was disturbed by the presence of the children. I hated to think that so many of these people were raising another generation to follow in their footsteps. Still, the thought that they had brought young children was a small comfort, for their presence ensured that there was little chance that anything too horrific would happen. Perhaps this was nothing more than a family gathering...
I took another sip of wine. As much as I wished to be highly intoxicated in that moment, I had no intention of giving up even the slightest bit of control. I was practically pretending to drink, which was stupid because even as a teenager I could drink nearly anyone under the table. I could go to class drunk, pass any exam and no one would even notice my inebriation... but this was different.
Even still, I was remiss. I was so focused on watching a young couple talking across the room, that I was caught off guard when a hand suddenly clapped me on the shoulder. I would have leapt in fear - but that gruff laugh - it all came back to me and I instantly gritted my teeth in aggravation at his unwelcome presence.
"Snape! I was beginning to think you were not coming!"
Why is he here!?
"Karkaroff. How have you been." I said plainly. Why did he have to be there? Of all the people that I wanted to avoid... I hated him even when I had been a Death Eater. He was an annoying little kid who came from Durmstrang. He'd been visiting family for a while and he would always show up uninvited to events. No one ever wanted to talk to him and somehow I would always be the one who ended up with the dreadful task of having to deal with him. I didn't want to speak to him tonight - but more to the point, I knew that my being seen to associate with someone so low ranking would do harm to the reputation I had meant to cultivate. But when I looked at him - the only person in that whole room who had approached me and wanted to talk to me - I couldn't help but to feel grateful to him. Had I gone I mad? I don't even like Karkaroff. The bastard accused me in his trail and yet I felt so happy to see him in that instant. For the first time all evening - longer felt so lost and alone.
He was laughed his gruff laugh in answer to my question, then preceded to announce to me, and nearly the entire room "Well, I've been better!" He was as loud and obnoxious as ever he had been. But in his face was the look of a man who seemed to be half of what he once was.
"We all have," I felt compelled to answer. Did I really need to allay his fears and let him know that he was not alone in feeling as drained as he did? I suppose I must have, for I had been genuine in that moment.
"Yes, well I hope you that will forgive me for that business with The Ministry of Magic. I hadn't wanted to, but in desperate times - Well no harm done eh!?" He laughed as he said this.
I narrowed my eyes at him as he continued to laugh, recalling all to well just why I could not stand him. Instantly any compassion or relief that I had felt at his presence vanished. He finds all of this amusing. And did he really have to be so loud? Shut it. Already I was dreaming up ways to escape from the conversation. Better to be awkward and alone.
"I am thinking to go back home," he was saying, "This country, it has its uses but this particular stay has not been as pleasant as some of my other visits. And what of you!? I hear they have made you a Professor now, eh? You were always an ambitious one Snape. Always knew you would succeed!"
Was he mocking me!? The bastard. I could have spat. Instead I took a sip of wine, using the time to calm myself so that when I answered him I would be still and speak with out any emotion, "I am merely following my orders Karkaroff,"
He laughed and then began prattling on, about what I honestly have no idea. At that point I had begun to ignore him as I do Dumbledore when he gets on my nerves. I looked around the room again. The atmosphere was so solemn and subdued. It seemed rather more like a wake than a Christmas party. I suppose it was. They had all lost family and friends in the war. No matter how evil their deeds had been - every one of them had still been someone's family. I began to feel sorry for them, but that only lasted a few moments - for that is when I spotted Avery.
Across the room not far from Karkaroff and I, the blond bastard stood tall in shimmering silk black robes - radiating confidence. I was going to be sick. He was talking with a group of three older women. Two of them had their backs to me. The woman who faced me I knew to be his mother. The second I did not know - but the third - even with her back to me I knew she could only be Jocasta Carrow. I dropped my eyes, hoping that none of them had seen me.
I moved to hide behind Karkaroff. I nodded and pretended to be deeply immersed in our conversation. He was going on and on about how Durmstrang was such a better school than Hogwarts. Occasionally I would glance over to where Avery stood with the women. He hadn't moved. I looked around the rest of the room, but Lucius Malfoy and the rest of the inner circle of men were not present. I was certain that they were elsewhere - discussing plots and politics. Once more I cursed myself, for I should have been trying find them all that time - not cowering behind Karkaroff in fear that Avery might see me.
A wicked thought crossed my mind then. Had I not been so focused on concealing my emotions I might even have grinned - for Avery was not with the inner circle either. He was with his Mummy and his overbearing Aunt. Perhaps the fact that he had wept during his trial had shamed him and now the others were shunning him - just as I'd hoped they would. Perhaps they had, for it certainly seemed as if they had abandoned him to the care of his Mother -
Why do I never learn?
Mere moments, I glanced over Karkaroff's shoulder just in time to see Avery advancing towards us. Fuck. I looked straight at Karkaroff ignoring Avery all together just to spite him - I even feigned a laugh as Karkaroff complained of the fact that Hogwarts classes are remedial compared with those of Durmstrang's, and then it was over. Avery had broken through the shield I had been making of Karkaroff.
He pushed his way between us. "Karkaroff - it's good to see you. And Snape," he said turning to face me, "Lucius said that you might be here, I've been talking with him a lot lately." Of course he felt the need to add that, Prick that he is.
"Avery, how have you been?" I asked with out any emotion, for I certainly did not care how he had been.
"I've been alright," he said grinning like an idiot.
Karkaroff clapped Avery on the back hard and said loudly - "You mean now that they got you out of Azkaban!" Karkaroff practically roared with laughter.
Avery on the other hand did nothing to disguise his distain. He glared at Karkaroff and then at me. He hated to be made a fool of in front of people, as I knew all too well. Back when I used to care for some reason, I would even cover for him. I would always do things on the sly so that others would not notice his inability to cast spells that even a first year would find simple... Tonight however I just stood back and watched him suffer the humiliation.
It wasn't long. After almost no time at all Avery was smirking again. "Have you heard," he said pompously, "Philip Rosier has named me his heir. I am going to receive Evan's inheritance!"
I nearly dropped the wine glass in shock. Despite my fury I forced myself to remain calm and still - even as I felt my pulse begin to race. The arrogance - how dare he. Evan was twice the man Avery will ever be. How dare he take anything that was meant to be Evan's and boast of it!
I stared into his ice blue eyes. There was nothing but hollow pride behind them. Fuck you. The words raced through my mind as I recalled all to well the way I had lied to protect him during my trail. I had lied and told the Wizengamot that it was Evan and not Avery who had convinced us to join the Death Eaters. I had never even thought of it until that very moment - but Avery owed me a great deal of gratitude. Not that he would ever see it that way. In his eyes, I am not an equal - therefore it was my duty to cover for him no matter what the cost might have been to me. I was so enraged. Not only had I lied and shamed Evan's memory to help secure Avery's release, in doing so I had also helped him to become the heir of Philip Rosier. Why...
Evan Forgive me...
"How is it that Philip chose you Avery?" Karkaroff felt the need to ask, adding fuel to the fire of Avery's ego all the while.
"Well, Rosier is one of the greatest Wizarding families - second only to the Blacks. Philip well lets just say he is a difficult man to please and he doesn't let just anyone get close to him... But, you know we've been close for a few years now." He ran a hand through his long, blond locks and laughed.
I wanted to smash his face. His life was too perfect. Everything was just handed to him - good looks, money power - and he didn't even care. He simply expected it. I wanted to scream, then he smiled at me - not a charming smile, this one was far more mocking.
"You know Severus, Evan evidently left something for you in his will as well - but good luck trying to get anything out of Philip!" He laughed and then Karkaroff joined in laughing - as if he knew anything.
I was so furious that it took a moment for it to register - Evan had a will? He'd had a will and he'd thought to leave me something!? Suddenly I felt as though some sliver of him was still alive and with me in that room. It did not matter what it was - Evan could have left me a broken quill and it would meant everything to me. If Avery is making this up - I thought - I will kill him.
"Have you even met Philip?" He asked abruptly interrupting my fond thoughts of Evan.
"I have only seen him a few times," I told Avery, "but I have never met him," And I never want to I might have added. I'd heard enough stories from Evan. Philip Rosier sounded even more horrific than my father is - was. Right he's dead.
I can still see it - the look that passed between Evan and his father that night. Evan, Wilkes, Tisiphone and I were sitting by the fire while the others stood just beyond the tree line talking. When Philip finally rejoined the others Evan broke down. He told us things that absolutely sickened me.
"Well," Avery said laughing, "Now that I am here, I will introduce him to you both." He didn't wait for us to answer. He turned swiftly on his heals and walked across the hall as if he would soon own Malfoy Manor in addition to Evan's former home.
I had no choice but to follow. As I did my heart began to pound just as it did just before my trial. The Death March. Yes, because I had condemned Evan, and I was about to answer for it - with Philip acting as the firing squad.
When we reached a crowd of well-dressed men and women I thought we were about to stop, for surely he would be among them - but he wasn't. Instead we walked around the crowd and continued to a dark corner of the room. There he hid amongst the shadows in an over sized leather armchair. Philip Rosier didn't so much sit in the chair as much as he slouched, practically draping over the thing. Where everyone else had worn vivid hues of emerald, red or deep black, he wore faded brown suede robes. At one point it might have been quite elegant, but he looked as though he had not taken it off in months. His hair was the same ashy brown as Evan's had been, though his was long, tangled and streaked with gray. His right arm hung over the chair, loosely holding a glass of brown liquor. I swear I could smell the alcohol when we were still several feet from him.
"Philip," Avery announced to him loudly.
My reaction was instant - don't! Be quiet I wanted to tell Avery - do not disturb him! Too often had I witnessed the scene, as far back as I could remember? My chest tightened as it always did in such times as I stood there waiting for the explosion of fury - but it did not come as I had expected it to.
"Boy," Philip practically barked as he began to laugh. "Haven't seen you all night, finally stopped hounding Deverille's daughter eh?"
"Would that I had - but she isn't here tonight. Her loss!" Avery told him as he laughed loudly. The two shared a few more jests until, with out warning Philip Rosier's face turned sour. "Who are these two!?" he demanded as he pointed to Karkaroff and I with his glass of liquor.
The ice clanked loudly as some of the fluid flew out in our direction. He was glaring right at me, not Karkaroff - me. He wouldn't' stop. Now it comes, I thought. Now I will get what is coming to me.
Avery just laughed irreverently, "Philip, this is Igor Karkaroff and Severus Snape. They are friends of mine from school."
"Friends of yours?" Philip asked in a dark tone, emphasizing the word "yours" - Meaning were we friends of Avery's, or had we been friends of Evan's...
"Yes, of course they are my friends!" Avery assured him as he laughed - but his charm was having no effect on Philip. His eyes were still boring into me. I didn't dare move.
"You," he said, gesturing at me again with the glass, "I know you. Tell me why. Tell me why you and not him."
I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. His son. I watched him die - I didn't try to help I - "Sir, I..."
"You what!?" He cut me off before I could even attempt to apologize for all that I had done. "Well!? Are you going to tell me why? I want to know what you did to get it."
What had he meant? Was he referring to the fact that I had been pardoned? I could see he was growing impatient and I was growing nervous. The adrenaline ran through me, the same fear I felt as a child for I knew what was coming. "I don't understand -"
He raised his voice - "You are the one they made the professor aren't you!?"
"Yes Sir," I told him solemnly.
His eyes grew dark and his voice dropped to a low growl. "I was there you know. I was there that very night when he asked for the position. Not much younger than you are now he was. So what did you do to secure the position that The Dark Lord himself was denied?"
What? The Dark Lord. This wasn't about Evan!? This was about the stupid teaching position and not his son? "Sir, I took the position upon his orders. It was his wish that I-"
"Oh so that excuses it!?" he spat at me.
"Philip," Avery cut in as he placed a hand on his arm, "I am sure Severus was given the position because of something that The Dark Lord did. I mean, that is the truth of it isn't it Severus? You couldn't have gotten such a position on your own."
Between the two of them... And Karkaroff - did he have to choose that moment to turn mute? "I did as he told me to do. If he had done something to secure my position it is unknown to me."
"Another idiot," Philip grunted as he took a long drink from his glass. "Nereus," he said to Avery as he grabbed him by the sleeve. Philip pulled him close to his face, and then whispered something to him.
I couldn't stand there any longer. I glanced around the room looking for the closest thing I could find to a familiar face. "If you will excuse me, I must speak with Antonin Dolohov." I did not wait for an answer. I just left.
Dolohov. I didn't know Dolohov. I'd spoken to him maybe once or twice, but I would have done anything to get out of there. I crossed the room to where he stood. He was speaking with another man that I did not know.
I was looking at him. I wasn't looking at the couple walking towards him, but when I looked up and saw her - my heart stopped. It was her - her - alive. No it couldn't be. That woman! She was twenty year older - but she looked so like her. No - the resemblance was too uncanny, she could only have been Tisiphone's Mother. And that man beside her -
Move I told myself - run - but I was frozen to the spot. I couldn't even manage to stop myself from staring at her - move.
That woman, with the same face, the same long dark hair... she looked right at me, but she did not see me. I was still several meters from them. I could still get away from the parents of my former girlfriend before they saw me.
She looked so like her, the same thin frame - the same harsh beauty, but her eyes were different... grayish blue where as Tisiphone's had been a shocking shade of amethyst. I watched as she squeezed the arm of the tall man beside her. Even at fifty and with silver hair, Tisiphone's father was a handsome man. God what had a girl like that been doing with someone as ugly as me?
Tisiphone's mother was nuzzling her head into her husband's shoulder. She looked up at him and smiled, as he looked down at her. She whispered something into his ear, and he kissed her on the forehead in response. She released her grip from his arm, then dropped her head and walked away - the black silk of her long dress rustling behind her as she went...
I stepped behind Dolohov and stood close by the wall where no one could see me. Running would have been too obvious. The three men began talking. It was Dolohov who said it, "I am so sorry Brice. I saw that The Prophet had listed a Torchwood among those who were lost. I hadn't realized that you had any other family."
My chest tightened. No.
Brice Torchwood only smiled sadly saying quietly, "That was a mistake. My daughter has been dead for many years now."
No!
Brice looked over his shoulder across the room and then turned back to them saying, "Best not to mention it to Livia. She does not know about The Prophet. She still has not recovered from the loss of our little girl"
I felt tears forming behind my eyes - I wanted to cry - but I couldn't.
The other two nodded. The one I did not know placed a hand on his shoulder for a moment then let go. Brice looked over his shoulder again.
Then I looked over his shoulder. Livia - that's what he was looking at. She was on her way back, walking across the room carrying two wine glasses. Dear God they even walked the same way.
I had to get out of there before she returned. I dropped my head and began to walk away as quickly as I could with out drawing attention to myself and make for the nearest door. I had wanted to run screaming from the room since the moment that I had entered. I didn't belong there. Karkaroff - Philip - her dead. I couldn't-
No. Wait - no. Not her. He doesn't mean her - I tried to convince myself. He doesn't remember her. None of them do. It was I who was forgetting. We used to snog in her room. I used look over at the photographs on her nightstand, thinking how vain she was to have kept so many photographs of herself upon it. Finally one night she left me alone for a moment while she undressed and I realized how naive I had been. There were two of them. Two Tisiphone's - twins.
"You have a sister?" I asked as she returned to me.
"Megaera." she said, smiling as she looked down at the photographs. "She was a year older than me. She died just before I came to Hogwarts."
I didn't know what to say, all those months and I had no idea. She only smiled and kissed me softly on the neck as I continued to stare at the photograph of the two dark haired girls with their arms around each other. I never knew...
Her father had referred to her sister, to Megaera. Perhaps she did escape. Perhaps she used a memory charm as I had hoped - however slim the chance... Perhaps she has joined her sister. Either way, I must never think of her or her poor sister in the presence of these people. That thought only made me want to escape from the room even more. By then I had reached the nearest door. I turned the brass knob and slid through the opening I did not care where it lead me.
I should have.
I cannot write of that just yet. I must go for a walk, even if it is just to pace about the corridor. Just for a few moments, just to breathe, and then I must recount all that occurred in the small room.