Chapter 26

The House of Number 12

(Same day)

After I finish my burnt toast I was feeling much better.

"How do you feel?" Severus asked me from a sideways glance.

"Better," I told him. I pulled out my wand and sent the chipped plate back to the kitchen, where it would wash itself and put itself away. I stood slowly. My knees shook a little, but never the less held my weight.

"Then we must go." Severus said shortly.

I looked up at him. "Go?" I asked.

"Yes," Severus said looking away from me. "We must go to the previous headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

"Why do I have to come?" I questioned.

Suddenly angry, Severus sharply turned his head to me, his long black hair sweeping around his face with the swiftness of his motion. His black eyes were glaring into mine. I flinched. "You have to come," he spat, "because you are a Deatheater and Deatheaters have to do what the Dark Lord orders them to do. He wishes us to go and that is what must happen."

I looked at him with wide eyes; a small hiccup of a sob escaped my lips.

"Don't," said Severus irritably.

I began to cry harder.

Severus rolled his eyes and walked to me. Then he roughly grabbed my shoulders. "Look," he told me with forced calmness. "I did not mean," he paused trying to think of the right thing to say in this situation, "to hurt your feelings," he finished awkwardly, looking completely disgusted with himself. I looked at him through my haze of tears, touched that he would actually attempt to not be a douche on my account.

Severus removed his hands from my shoulders. He looked at me inquisitorially, waiting for me to say something.

I stared at him for a long moment thinking about what he had said. I hastily wiped the tears off my cheeks. I had cried enough about my situation, it was done; I was a Deatheater. I let out a quick sigh and shook my arms out.

"Okay," I told him, "okay, let's go."

Wordlessly Severus held out his arm to me. I took it and like every other time we touched I felt safe, like nothing could ever hurt me.

The sensation of apparition came over me and we were gone from the familiar territory of Professor Snape's small house on Spinner's End, embarking on Lord Voldemort's mission.

My feet found ground and Severus and I were in front of a door with a small golden number twelve plastered on it right above the knocker.

I turned and looked out onto the street. Streetlights began to turn on, dogs barked and a mother in number thirteen called out to a little boy on a bike, "Toby, it is time for dinner." It seemed to be just a typical, harmless muggle neighborhood. But at the door in which we stood seemed to inspire a strange sense of nervousness and fear. Maybe it was the peeling paint on the old door that gave the place a feeling of neglect and loneliness or the piercing silence that came screaming through the walls of the house. Or maybe it was the darkness that seemed to seep from the inside windows out, assuring me that no neighborhood child would ever play on this doorstep. Or maybe I was just being ridiculous, but whatever it was I was scared.

I still held Severus's arm. He began to pull it away.

"Please Severus," I said somewhat desperately, "let me hold your arm."

Professor Snape gave me a quick glance of exasperation before taking his arm back.

The feeling of safety I had vanished.

"There will be obstacles," said the professor more to himself than to me.

The professor pulled out his wand, whispered "Alohomora," and the door swung open. The thick darkness from inside seemed to blind me. "Stay," Professor Snape ordered as if I was a dog.

He walked into the old house and disregarding his wishes completely, I followed him.

The door shut behind us. At first I was sure I had lost my sight, I had never experienced such a darkness in my life. I pressed myself against the door, breathing heavily.

"I thought I told you to wait outside," said Professor Snape in a furious whisper as he heard me next to him.

"I want to help you," I hissed back. I tried to take a few steps forward, but my foot caught on something and I flopped to the ground and the object I had tripped over fell too with an echoing clatter.

I felt two hands yank me into a standing position.

"You cannot be any help," Professor Snape began angrily in a little more than a whisper. "You are nothing more than a troublesome little-"

But the rest of the professor's speech got cut off as a curtain parallel to the front door flung open to reveal a painting of a very agonized, old women screaming at the top of her lungs.

"MUDBLOODS, BLOODTRAITERS AND FILTH!" shrieked the lady, "OH HOW MY ANCESTORS MUST WRITHE IN THEIR GRAVES! THIS IS THE NOBLE AND MOST ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK!"

All the portraits around her began to shriek as well, I don't think they felt nearly as strongly on the subject as she did, but just screamed for the fun of it. How boring it would be to be a painting.

Severus took a few steps toward the painting of the hysterical woman and suddenly there was complete silence. At first I fancied Severus to be such a powerful wizard he needed not even touch the portraits to silence them, but I soon realized that that was not the case.

"Severus Snape," whispered a rough male voice in the darkness. The coldness of this voice was more alarming then the screaming portraits.

Severus and I both instinctively lit our wands. With our wand light eliminating the entryway, it became clear to both of us that there was no one there. I looked at Severus, his eyes darted back and forth across the room waiting for something to happen.

I was about to ask 'what was going on,' but suddenly something whooshed over me like a blast of cold air.

I began to gag on my own tongue as is curled back into my throat. It was the Tongue-Tying Curse. I felt as though I was suffocating and I stammered and panicked. Severus ignored me. I could tell that he was experiencing the same thing that I was, but he was calm. He just held his wand out in front of him, ready to respond at any moment.

We moved a few steps deeper into the house and my tongue unraveled again.

"What-," I began, but stopped as something began to rise from the carpet just in front of where we stood. I could feel my blood run cold.

The thing rose into the form of a man, tall, dust colored and horrible. The figure began to glide toward us, its waist-length hair and beard flowed behind it. Its face was sunken and fleshless and it looked at us through its empty eye sockets. I screamed, causing the portraits to follow suit.

"FILTH! FILTH IN THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS!" screamed the lady in the portrait.

"It was not of my will that you died!" yelled Severus over the cries of the portraits.

At his words the figure exploded into a cloud of dust and it was over.

Severus pointed his wand at the portrait of the screaming woman. "SHUT IT!" he yelled as sparks admitted from his wand. The curtains around her closed and she was silent.

That whole thing was a trap for Severus set by the Order to make sure he could never enter the ex-headquarters again, but little did they know that Severus Snape was an innocent man and no tongue tying or old dust figure could keep him out.

I ran to Severus and whimpered into his chest. He placed a protecting hand on my shoulder. He then pointed his wand in every corner of the room until he was satisfied that it was safe.

He did not remove his hand from me nor did he speak for a long time. We just stood there silently together recovering from what had just occurred, I felt his grip tighten on my shoulder and then he let go.

"We must continue with our orders," Severus said finally. "The Dark Lord does not take kindly to those who make him wait."

"Okay," I agreed, my words shaking like the rest of me. "What am I looking for?"

"Papers," Severus told me, "any information you can find."

"And what if I do find important information?" I asked.

Severus understood my meaning. "The Order of the Phoenix was careful about what they left lying around; I do not suspect that you will find anything of great usefulness," he said.

I nodded.
He began to climb the nearby staircase.

"You're going upstairs?" I asked in a panic.

Severus made an irritated gesture towards the steps that he stood on before walking up them and leaving me alone.

I took in a sharp breath. I was not afraid of the dark, but I was afraid of being in this house alone, in the dark.

With the light from my wand I observed my surroundings. I glanced over at the spot where that horrible figure had risen from the ground. The spot looked completely harmless now. The thing I had tripped over earlier was in fact a troll's leg made into an umbrella holder. It was so gross I couldn't even touch it to replace it into its previous position.

I began to walk further into the house, every moment expecting something to jump out at me and scream boo.

Cruel faced portraits scowled down at me from their dark canvases. Loud creaks and moans came from the floorboards as I walked across them; they seemed to be speaking to each other, giving the feeling that this house was alive.

I tried to keep my mind on the task at hand. It was quite easy to find sheets of disregarded papers and note, for they lied all over the floor. It was clear that this house was abandoned in a great hurry.

Soon enough, I had collected a very large stack of papers from the bottom level of the house and I was convinced that none of them could be in any bit of use to Lord Voldemort, so it was a mission accomplished.

I heard Severus thumping around upstairs; at least I hoped it was Severus, who knew what kind of creepy things lurked in this house.

I began to walk up the stairs to find Severus, we had been here quite long enough and I thought it would be wonderful if we could get the hell out of this place.

As I climbed the stairs I noticed the decapitated heads of house-elves mounted on the walls like art. I moved along faster, worried that the heads might start talking to me.

"Severus," I called out softly as I reached the upstairs landing. "Severus."

There was no answer. I began randomly choosing doors and peering inside.

"Severus," I whispered into the darkness of one room, afraid to speak louder as to not awake some horrible beast that might live in this house.

No answer.

There was only one door I had not yet tried. I slowly pushed it open like I had the others, but this time it did find Severus.

He knelt on the ground hunched over a scrap of paper. His back was to me, but I could see his body shaking and I could hear soft, muffled moans coming from his direction. Was Severus Snape crying?