Chapter 7

Author's Note(s):

Hi everyone! Thanks so much for adding me to your author alerts, and for my reviews! Every time I check, I do a happy dance and squeal like a five year old getting a present! You guys are wonderful!

So, I need your help... I have a very important question: do think Silwen to be a Mary Sue?

Now, enough of my random ramblings.

Beep-beep-beep-beep! Beep-beep-beep-beep! Beep-beep-beep-beep! Fumbling in shadows, Silwen's fingers slapped the alarm clock, shocking it into silence...For five minutes at least until it started to bother her once more, only to receive another slap. It was five thirty, much too early to wake up. But the irritating thing with her was once she was woken, she couldn't get to sleep after.

It was interesting. The soreness from sleeping on the ground was fainter than she was prone to expect. Perhaps she had developed calluses from the uncomfortable sleeping positions from the months of sleeping on the ground. Musing to herself, Silwen combed her hair with her fingers, washed her face in the sink, grabbed the room's key, checked that she still had the Elder Wand–-secured it in her new clothes, and went downstairs.

Unsurprisingly, the pub was empty except for a few knocked-out drinkers from the previous night. Aberforth however, was up. Cleaning a mug of beer that seemed to get dirtier each time he wiped it with his rag, he shot his eyes at her for a moment.

"Key," he ordered. Stepping over to him, she leaned over the bar and handed it to him.

"Thank you, Sir. ...erm, about the clothes-"

"Keep them."

"Thank you."

Aberforth nodded gruffly then responded, "Don't let me see you here again. Do you hear?"

"Yes, sir. Good bye sir," Silwen replied nervously, as she stepped through the door.

The morning was clear, yet refreshingly chilling-like stepping into a freezing shower in the middle of summer. From the back of the road, she heard something. It was like listening to a whispered conversation from across an empty auditorium. Slowly, the noise, now distinguishable as voices approached. "Silwen Snape? Out of our Manor? Alone?" Dress flying, Silwen whirled around. Lucius. Narcissa.

"Yes and yes."

"How goes the mission?"

"Half-completed. Draco is free."

Smiling faintly, Narcissa drew herself and her husband nearer. "We know. He's staying in our mountain cabin. Thank you, Silwen." Silwen nodded, turning her face away.

"I must complete the other half. Give Draco my love."

"You shouldn't return to our manor so soon, Silwen. Take a few months to recuperate, my dear," admonished Narcissa, trying to smile, but ending up with an awkward curve on her face instead.

"Perhaps you are right...I think I'll head back to my home for a few weeks," replied Silwen thoughtfully.

"Alone?" asked Lucius sharply.

"Yes. I can defend myself perfectly fine, thank you," Silwen answered stiffly.

"What if you came to the cabin to visit Draco?" asked Narcissa, an actual smile crawling across her lips this time–even if it was rather sly.

"I-I don't know...I think I need a bit of time to sort things out..."

"Well, the cabin is always welcome to you, if you want to come see him. He's worried about you." There was a pause, with Lucius muttering something to his wife. "It's time we head back to the cabin as well. I hope to see you soon, Silwen," said Narcissa, as Lucius led her down the road.

"Good luck," he called softly.

CRACK. They Disapparted to their cabin, safe from harm. Safe because of her. Because she had done something for Voldemort. By doing something wrong, did she do something right? And if she had done something wrong, would she really have done something right? Rubbing her head, Silwen stopped thinking about ethics. In a war, nothing was ever black and white–-in fact, in a wizard's war, most of it was black cloaks versus different black cloaks.

Silwen tended to wear deep marine colors. It was rare that she wore green, wanting to save it for special occasions like the Yule Ball. For the ball, Draco had worn dress robes gorgeous enough to make even the invited orchestra jealous (who had worn stately robes of black and white), and Silwen (whose robes had been paid for by Draco's parents for the occasion) had worn a dress of a jocund jade-–perfectly matching her eyes...She smiled at the memory of Draco's eyes on her in awe, at the eyes of almost every boy in the Great Hall gaping at her... Even one of the Weasleys had been caught staring at her-a Slytherin. Shaking her head, Silwen slipped out of the sweet memory and returned her thoughts back to current dress.

A tired, faded, black it was, but it fit her well enough. This must have been Adrianna's dress, thought Silwen, suddenly somber. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, another memory made her travel once more into the foggy Memory Lane. Dumbledore had only mentioned Adrianna once, but Silwen had never forgotten the name nor the girl-–both had sounded so pretty to her seven year old ears. Ever since, she wanted to name her first pet Adrianna. A goal she had yet to complete. Snape hated animals of all sorts, forbidding her to keep the broken-boned or sore-winged animals that Silwen sometimes brought into the house, not letting her buy a rat or toad to take to Hogwarts with her either. ... Sighing, she stepped out of Memory Lane and went back to Hogsmeade, focusing on where she wanted to go next, holding her broom in hand. I think I'll Apparate there, she thought.

CRACK. Hogsmeade disappeared, and Uncle Severus' cottage at Spinner's End appeared before her.

"Miss Silwen!" A little body bounded out of the house, leapt over the fence, and hugged Silwen warmly around the calves. Lucie. Dearest Lucie, her House Elf. Granger would disapprove, but honestly saying, Lucie was well-taken care of, and never mistreated.

"Hello Lucie. It is so wonderful to see you again! I missed you," said Silwen, tears shining in her eyes.

"Let's get inside, Miss! Someone might see you."

Silwen followed the jittery elf inside their home replying, "Lucie, Voldemort already knows where I am. Or he does now."

"MISS! Don't say his name! It's Tabooed!" Silwen smiled wanly at her friend.

"He can't touch us inside the house, the protections around it are still in use, my wand tingled as I went through them." Still fearful, Lucie cast her eyes through the window once they were both inside.

"Miss, if you wouldn't mind, you should put up an Alerting Charm so you know if they come."

Sighing at Lucie's paranoia, but acknowledging that, yes, Lucie was definitely right, she murmured, circling her wand above her head, "Noscimini Mortem Edax." There. Now she'd be able to have time to escape with Lucie if they tried to come here.

"I have your school books, Tales of Beedle the Bard–an annotated copy by experts including Xenophilius Lovegood, books about the Elder Wand through history all ready for you when you want to see them. Lunch is ready," informed Lucie, clearly satisfied with the new safety addition.

"Thank you, Lucie."

"Of course I have! I will always take care of the house!"

Smiling again, Silwen nodded. Lucie always had, and always would.

The day was spent in harmonious solitude with Silwen studying about the Elder Wand's gruesome history of fantastic battles and awful murders, while eating vegetable platters that Lucie kept refilling when they started to dwindle.

When night drew its soft curtain over them, Silwen lit the fire, accio-ed a blanked and continued reading until Lucie stole her books and notes, forcing her off to bed. Silwen had forgotten how nice it was feeling peaceful. Feeling calm and knowing that she could wake up without fearing whose eyes she'd come across.