Chapter 17: Helena's Death
It was the evening of the wake.
Objectively, things had gone as well as could be expected. Anyone and everyone who could possibly be interested crowded into the Black home, including Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Dumbledore. Memories were shared and, in exactly the way he would wish to be remembered, most of them ended with roaring laughter and several with teary eyes.
A warmth spread through the house, and November pulled close to Remus. He held her just as tightly, arms wrapped around her and face buried in her hair, his mind wandering. Sirius had been adamant that they should marry in the weeks before he died. He had insisted that anything could happen at any time and after that night with Lucius…
Remus shifted his weight and shoved his hand deep into his trouser pocket. The small box in his pocket felt light and cool. Sirius had been right. Now all Remus needed was the right moment.
November pushed away from him as Tonks ended another hilarious story of her cousin's antics and began to search in a cupboard. She stopped, looking puzzle,d before digging through the next one. "Remus," she called over the chatter of voices. "Do we have any more candles?"
He began digging around next to her and soon they realized they were completely out. How that was even possible in a house like this was beyond either of them, but no candles were to be seen or summoned.
November ducked into the entry, pulling him with her. "I'll just have to duck out and get some. Don't draw any attention to me being gone. I don't want to spoil things." She pulled her hair up quickly, knowing that in the dark it changed the look of her face entirely.
"Are you sure? I could go."
She shook her head, pulling on a jacket and flats. "No. You need to be here. He was your best friend."
Remus couldn't really argue with that but something still bothered him. "But November, is it safe? For you to be alone? I could get someone to go with you."
She smiled and gave him a deep kiss. "It's only for candles, Remus. I'll even go to a Muggle store." She showed him some British pounds that she pulled out of her pocket.
He nodded and kissed her again. He would ask her soon, maybe later that night.
The door closed behind her quietly and Remus rejoined the group.
November was halfway through the park across from the house, light playing off of her now red hair, when a figure in shadow stepped in front of her. Her wand shot out as she jumped back.
"Lumos!"
The bluish light fell on the sharp features of Severus Snape. "Oh!" she dropped her wand level and smiled up at him. "I didn't think you would come."
"I had hoped to avoid this," he drawled.
"Wha–" November was cut off as someone behind her spun her and lifted her off of her feet by her neck. She could not scream as she stared into the cold eyes of Fenrir Greyback.
"You know what he said, Fenrir," Snape barked angrily. "Put her down."
"Silence her." Greyback's eyes carved her up like meat as they roved over her figure.
Snape acquiesced and November fell to the ground, coughing silently. The men acted quickly, each grabbing her shoulders and the three of them disappeared.
When November regained her breath she saw she was standing in the entrance of Malfoy Manor. She spun on Snape, heart racing. Her mouth moved without any sound, which suited her just fine: "What have you done, Severus?"
"Only my duty," he replied before lifting the silencing spell from her.
"And a fine job he has done indeed," Lucius's voice rang out from behind her. "Though her delicate neck is rather injured." He leaned over and traced his lips over her bruising throat. "Fenrir, did I not tell you to play nice?"
The werewolf snorted before leaving the room with a grin that spread through her veins like ice. Without a word, Snape, her last hope, followed him out. Mentally she screamed for him to stay but to no avail at all.
Lucius seemed to have done everything he could think of to make himself pleasing to her. His hair was pulled back and his jacket had been abandoned for his shirt, tie, and vest. He smelled wonderful, like deep ocean waters. November could not help but feel her weakness, in only jeans and a jacket.
"I was beginning to worry you weren't real, Helena," he crooned at her before pulling her into a kiss, savoring it now that they were alone. He showed nothing that led her to believe he had intended the double meaning, but alarms began to go off in her head. Lucius offered her his arm and led her to a smaller dining room, though no less grand than the formal one she had met Draco in.
"I thought this would be more intimate," he explained, pulling out her chair and indicating the drinks he had already set out for them. He had even remembered her very favorite cocktail.
November was dying of thirst and he seemed determined to keep her with him. If she played along, she might find a way to get out of here. She would never have been found had it not been for Snape. She drank, trying to assume a confident posture.
Lucius leaned back, looking her up and down. "I would like to have an explanation for the events of our last meeting." His voice took on a different tone and he drank deeply from the glass in front of him. "That is why you have been brought here. I was greatly alarmed."
"My disappearance guaranteed my safety."
"No doubt," he intoned, but those were his only words. He stared, waiting.
After a silence, November opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off before a syllable was uttered.
"I have never once seen you with your hair down, Helena. No doubt it is a pleasing sight."
"I rather doubt you would be impressed," November cooed, leaning forward. But she felt sluggish and he did not even glance at her breasts.
"Let down your hair."
"I would rather not be commanded by you, Lucius Malfoy. This is the second time you have done so and it will be the last." November's true character leapt out involuntarily and a smile played on his lips as she spoke.
"I see. Very well then. Helena, would you let down your hair?" He leaned forward, eyes glinting. "Or should I ask November Cadougan?"
There was a moment where November could not even react. He knew everything and she was trapped.
November leapt to her feet and raced for the door, hoping to put space between them. But within steps she knew she was doomed. Her legs gave up and she fell heavily, not even having the strength to break her fall. There was a sound of smashing china as she grabbed at the tablecloth. She worked feebly at a her pocket, trying to get out her wand, before her arms fell awkwardly to the floor as well. She lay on the cold floor, all of her muscles acting as if they had fallen asleep. Lucius's shoes appeared in her line of vision and she did not even have the ability to lift her head.
"A rather complex potion but well worth the time. Completed with a thirst powder and a kiss… I would have expected better from the witch who has destroyed me."
November closed her eyes, trying not to hear how obvious the trap was and how stupid she was. Roughly, he foisted her into a chair. She watched as a glass of clear liquid, which had sat on the sideboard, was thrown in her face. The red ran out of her hair like blood from an opened vein, leaving it dark brown. She could not have been more naked, more exposed, had she been without a stitch of clothing.
"I may have lost the prophecy, but I'll not lose you," Lucius growled at her. "Not again."
She could not move or respond and Lucius began to pace in front of her.
"I have promised the Dark Lord that I would repair that which I have broken. But first, I am sure you are dying to know how you were found out, what it was that gave you away."
November's eyes widened despite herself. It hadn't been Severus then; that would take no explanation at all.
"Let us return to my visit to you, shall we?" He leaned in and kissed her roughly, earning a whimper of fear from the immobile November. Emotionless grey eyes locked with hers and she was a tiny mouse, hypnotized by the viper before her.
"One does not usually visit one's mistress and come away with three broken ribs, a broken nose, and damaged eyes." His fists balled but he visibly forced himself to remain calm. "We will come back to that later; it is clear enough you did not inflict the damage. But then, we must conclude someone else did and the question is who? Who came through the fire that night? As yet I have no answer to this question but another detail caught my attention while I was reviewing my own memory of the events."
He pulled up a chair directly in front of her and leaned forward, still holding her in his eyes. "While taking in your exquisite body," November shuddered even in her current state, "I noted a rather unusual ring; a ring I personally had been seeking for quite some time. And this ring had belonged to a couple of whom I had ensured the death, a certain Titus Freyson and November Cadougan. A trip back further through memories brought them clearly to my mind and there, very clearly, was the ring on her hand. How then had my mistress come to possess it?"
He stood slowly and his eyes flashed terribly. November could only sit as his hand broke across her face, forcing her to now stare at the wall. Tears sprung out in the corners of her eyes from the stinging pain. Roughly, her head was turned back and Malfoy took his seat again.
"But this then set off a chain. For I would have sworn that I had seen this November well after she was dead. And the ring had never been found. So it was for the ring I began to look, finding it always with this woman who never looked the same twice." As he spoke he rolled back his sleeves and November felt sick with fear.
He began to list the times he had seen her, the times she had been wearing her ring in public and never realizing what it was. And each was paired with a brutal blow.
"The most obvious was a duel in Diagon Alley. Rings, after all." The back of his open hand caught her forehead.
"Again she appeared with Alastor Moody, that great fool." This time, his ring cut her cheek.
"A careless comment in a rather reckless duel in the woods about being dead." His fist broke open the corner of her mouth, splitting his own knuckle on her tooth.
"And then," he drew up before her and she knew what was coming next: the deepest insult of all. "And then I began to follow that foul creature, for he was with her in the cottage. And that woman, that shameless slut, was fornicating with the monster in an alley!" The force of the next strike made her ears ring.
"So the bitch was not dead. That much was immediately clear. And this ring remained with her. But how to find her? An insistent feeling led me to the memory of the day we met." He placed his hands over her arms, crushing them into the arms of the chair. "Would you like to guess what you were wearing that night?"
Though she had regained the ability to speak, November stayed silent. He stood again, staring down at her.
"The ring," his voice was a almost inaudible growl. "November and Helena were one and the same. All the time I had spent…" he broke off and his fist swung for her again, catching her in the eye.
"And a well timed move of pure stupidity on Potter's part only confirmed my suspicions. The werewolf gave himself away, seeking personal revenge in such a shameful way... However, the way you looked at that bastard, that HALF-BREED!" Grabbing her shoulders he threw her as hard as he could, though not very effectively, and she slammed into the table, falling onto her stomach.
He smoothed back his hair and turned away from her. Even in danger beyond what she could imagine, this struck November as odd. There was emotion at play here; this was not business as usual.
"Fenrir volunteered the fact that you told him your name was Helena Freyson, not Helena Everdeen, upon meeting him as well," Lucius said with forced calm. "I can only assume that as you are here and the ring is not you have placed in the hands of Dumbledore." There was a particular scorn in his voice that he saved just for the headmaster.
He turned back to her and magically tossed her back into the chair. She finally had the strength to move her head of her own accord and she watched him as he paced before her again.
"Let us go back to where we started. Would it have been the creature–"
"My lover," she shot back, speaking for the first time since he had drugged her.
Grey eyes turned to steel. "And how long, dear November, have you defiled yourself with this monster?"
"I was his before you and I had ever met." She knew it was stupid to provoke him but hearing Remus talked about like this brought out the worst in her.
"Crucio!"
She was screaming even after the spell released her. Every fiber of her body burned and she was crying.
"And would it have been this bastard who beat me as I lay senseless on your floor?" Lucius raged at her, beyond trying to be calm.
"No," she spat back. "That was Sirius Black."
His fist connected with her temple and she fell forward, unmoving and unconscious.
