59

Voldemort's New Rule

A/N: Just a reminder in case you didn't get the alert for the last chapter, please go and read that one before you read this! I posted it around four days ago.

Voldemort's secret base

Somewhere in the Carpathians:

The shadows stretched out across the rocky ground, obscuring much of the brown grass from sight, lending the illusion of a velvet covering to the broken ground surrounding the ancient castle. The iron portcullis was rusted and creaked when it was raised and lowered by the ogre on duty. The drawbridge groaned when the nightmares and skeletal steeds galloped over it and into the courtyard. The castle was over five hundred years old and in need of repair. Most of the rooms on the upper floor were filled with debris and falling to pieces. The tapestries that had once lined the walls in bright colors were now faded, drab, and moth-eaten. There was a distinct scent of mold and rot in the air, as well as musty straw and unwashed ogre, since this had once been the ogres home base, they had driven out the count and countess who had ruled here hundreds of years ago and had spent years within it, gnawing on the bones of their victims and holding court, which mostly involved kissing the arse of the ogre king, FangRipper, and bringing him lots of treasure and human slaves.

Until Voldemort signed an agreement with the king, made the ogres part of his army, and taken over the castle, booting FangRipper out on his ample buttocks and telling him to find a new place to live, this one was now the property of the Dark Lord. It took a month for his Death Eaters to get the place fit to live in, and then Voldemort had moved in. The ogres muttered, but that was all they did, they knew better than to cross the most powerful dark wizard in the world, once Voldemort had demonstrated how quickly he could disembowel an ogre with a mere crook of his finger. Now the great red-skinned beasts walked softly indeed around the Master, and whispers of fear accompanied his shadow.

High above the castle proper was a lone room in the eastern turret. It was the one room in the castle that had been scrubbed and polished until the stone gleamed, the rough stone floor was covered in expensive carpets from Turkey and China, the fireplace burning with scented apple wood. The single window was inset with colored glass, depicting a tall handsome man with a serpent wound about his waist, wearing an iron crown, his dark-robed form stepping upon the globe of the world. Beneath that, in Latin, were the words—I am the Lord of the World, the Dark Dictator, I came, I saw, I conquered.

Across from the fireplace was a huge mahogany desk, behind which was a throne-like chair covered in a deep purple cushion. Several bookshelves lined the wall, with texts on every sort of magic, alchemy, and history on preserving one's life, beyond death. There were even theology texts, focusing exclusively upon the afterlife and rebirth of souls. The Book of the Dead shared shelf space with the teachings of Buddha and the King James Bible. Off to one side was an alcove with a large purple drape, behind it was a large bed piled high with plump pillows and thick furs, and costly satin sheets. A bed fit for a king.

A swirled ebony clock struck twelve midnight upon the mantle, making Voldemort look up from his parchment, stilling momentarily the scratch of the quill across the page. The Dark Lord set down his quill and shook out his hand, re-reading what he had written so far. He absentmindedly reached over to a silver tray floating at his side and grabbed a handful of peppered nuts from a silver bowl. He popped them in his mouth, savoring the spicy taste. A goblet of mulled wine rested next to it, and he sipped slowly, allowing it to wam him from the inside out. No matter how many charms he cast to ward off the chill, he still felt odd moments of bone-shivering cold, as if a goose had stepped upon his grave. He shrugged it off, his lip curling in a sneer. He was too old to indulge in schoolboy fantasies and used to dealing with things that went bump in the night, the only thing he feared was death itself, and even that he planned to thwart.

Most of his energy and his brilliant twisted mind had been directed towards that end, but on occasion he set aside his research to deal with the more mundane problems of the world. One of those being the preservation of his dark regime and the continuation of his followers. Though he had recruited many a promising witch and wizard into his dark ranks, there was no guarantee that his numbers wouldn't dwindle as they had casualties from raids and arrests and so forth. Something had to be done to shore up their numbers, making his rule absolute.

He had been pondering all night, while Nagini slept coiled beneath his desk, what to do to cement his power base and ensure that his rule was for the ages. He could, of course, have a child, a son to carry on his dark legacy. But while his mind toyed briefly with that idea, he ultimately rejected it. If he were going to live forever, as an immortal he would have no need for heirs. But his faithful Death Eaters . . . now there was a different story . . .

Voldemort picked up his quill again and began to write. With this new rule, he would solve that problem, a single stroke of his pen would make certain of his place in history, and bind his followers even more tightly to him.

SSLSJPPPRBCB

Potter Manor

That same evening:

Petunia Evans Potter leaned her head back upon the hippogriff feather stuffed pillow and groaned in pleasure as her husband massaged her aching feet. She was barely eight weeks along and not even showing, but her feet had started aching like the devil one morning and hadn't stopped since. Liana had assured her it would go away, and had given her a tea to help, but Petunia had discovered the best cure for her feet were James' hands. Every evening since, unless he was totally exhausted from chasing down dark wizards, James would take her out to the large swing on the back veranda and rub all the throbbing achy feeling in her feet away, while he discussed his day and asked about hers.

It was their own private time and Petunia cherished those moments, all too aware how easily they could be taken away, if James were injured, or God forbid, killed in the line of duty. She closed her eyes and tried to think about what they were going to name the baby, while her husband expertly removed all the stress from her toes.

"Feel better, Tuney, my love?"

"Mmm . . . yes. I've said it once and I'll say it again. If you ever get tired of being an Auror, you could open up shop as a masseuse and make a bundle, Jamie darling."

He smiled tenderly at her. "I'll keep that in mind. How are you feeling otherwise? Are you still queasy in the morning?"

Petunia grimaced. "Yes. I've never had a delicate stomach, but lately everything disagrees with me. Even those fluffy scrambled eggs your mum's house elf makes. I've been eating soda crackers and drinking raspberry tea every morning for a week now."

"Isn't that normal with a woman in your condition?"

Petunia chuckled softly at James' reluctance, or perhaps it was simply his upbringing, to use the word pregnant around her. "Yes, both my mum and yours said so, but . . . I was kind of hoping I'd be different." She turned half on her side and murmured, "Now, what do you say we call her Delilah Rose?"

James thought for a minute. "What's wrong with naming her after her grandmothers?"

Petunia made a face. "Polly Liana? James, that sounds awful! Run it all together and it'll sound like Pollyanna, that little girl in that novel by Eleanor Porter. You don't want your daughter to be a laughingstock, now do you?"

"No." James sighed. "Guess I'm pants at girls names, probably because I want a boy too much."

"What's wrong with girls?"

"Nothing. I love 'em to pieces, it's just . . . I dunno . . . I'm sort of hoping for a boy, y'know, my firstborn son, to carry on the family name and all that."

Petunia rolled her eyes. Men! They were all alike, wizard or Muggle. "And what would you name him? Charles Henry, after his grandfathers?"

"That's not too bad. What about Henry James?"

"Sounds like another famous Muggle author," Petunia chuckled. "What about James Emerson, junior?"

"I don't want the kid to have exactly the same name as me. Might give him an identity crisis. But I do like Henry. What does your mum call your dad?"

"Huh? She calls him Henry. Although sometimes, when she's feeling really romantic, she calls him Harry-luv."

James laughed. "Aww! That's real cute. I like Harry."

Petunia nodded. "Harry sounds fine. I also like Michael. Or Derek. Derek James Potter."

James frowned. "I don't know. How about Peter?"

"No! That's the same name as Pettigrew, and he gives me the creeps. Not Peter."

"Okay, Tuney. Relax. Didn't know you hated my best friend that much."

"I thought Sirius was your best friend."

"He is, but Peter's next."

"I will never understand how you can like that devious little creep. When he looks at me, James, I swear sometimes I think he's undressing me with his eyes and fantasizing about me naked." She shuddered.

"Tuney, you're imagining things. Peter just examines everything that way. Besides, you're a beautiful woman, what man wouldn't look at you with longing?"

"I'm also his best friend's wife," Petunia said coldly. There was something about Pettigrew she just didn't like, for some reason she just couldn't warm up to him, he aroused suspicion and distrust in her. Maybe it was how he always squinted, or his unhandsome features, or the way he kept licking his lips every time he saw her. Or maybe it was the way he always kowtowed to James, as if he were a medieval serf and had no brains to speak of. "Never mind. How about Selina Gail? Or Elizabeth Rose?"

"Those seem nice," James acquiesced, yawning.

Petunia poked her toe into his belly. "You're not being very helpful."

"Sorry. It's been a long day. Can't concentrate real well. How about Samantha Jane?"

"That has potential." Petunia mused. "What about Harry James?"

"I like that one!" exclaimed her husband. "That we ought to write down."

"Write what down?" asked a new voice.

"Hello, Siri," James greeted his partner. "What brings you here?"

The black-haired Auror took a seat on a wicker chair, scooting it closer so he could see his friends' faces. "Got sick of my own company, I guess. How are things going, little mother?" he asked Petunia playfully.

"As well as can be expected." She patted her belly. "She's already making her presence known." She indicated her feet.

"Yeah, he's got her all topsy-turvy," James said.

Sirius looked from one to the other, puzzled, until he finally figured out why they kept switching genders. "You pick out a name for the kid yet?"

"Not yet, but we're trying," Petunia said.

"You could always name the kid after me," suggested Sirius.

"I was thinking more along the line of naming you the baby's godfather, Padfoot." James said.

"Really? You'd chose me over Remus?" Sirius was astonished.

"Moony would never be able to stand as a godparent. He's a werewolf, remember?" James reminded him.

"Oh. Yeah. Stupid Ministry Anti-Werewolf Laws." Sirius grumbled. "Well, I'd be honored to stand up as godfather. You pick out a lady for a godmother yet?"

James looked at Petunia, who was sitting up now, smoothing down the creases in her blue dress. "I just assumed you'd choose Lily, Petunia."

Petunia hesitated. When they were girls, that was what they had always said they'd do, stand as godmother for one of the other's children. But now . . .lately Lily had been so distant, wrapped up in her struggle to fight Voldemort, that Petunia hardly ever saw her and she felt that Lily was growing apart from her, traveling down a road she could not follow, married to a wizard or not. "I used to think that too, but lately . . . I'm closer to Annie these days. And I know Sirius would love to share his godfatherly duties with Annie." She winked at Sirius and smirked knowingly.

To her delight, the confirmed playboy blushed and looked away. "Merlin save me! Is it that obvious?"

"Oh, yes, Paddy. You've got it bad," crooned Petunia. "I can see the words I love Annie written all over you."

James hooted. "Hoo boy! It's finally happened! You've gone and fallen in love. And it's about time!"

Sirius was still red-faced. "Aww, quit it, Prongs. She doesn't even know yet. I haven't . . . err, I mean . . . I keep waiting for the right time to tell her, but I've been so busy with cases lately I haven't really been up to any romance."

"Now that's a first," giggled Petunia.

"You hush!" Sirius waved a scolding finger at her. "I'll tell her when I'm good and ready, so don't say anything till then, okay?"

"All right, Sirius. Don't get your pants in a twist," she responded. Then she added mischievously, "But don't wait too long. You never know what may happen."

Sirius looked pensive. "You think she might find somebody else?"

Both of them knew how unlikely that was, most men were repulsed by poor Annie's scars. Only Sirius had ever been willing to get to know the person behind them. "No. But the war might take you from her." Petunia reminded him gently.

Sirius cursed. "I know. But I don't want her to think I'm marrying her in haste, because I want to leave a kid behind or something if I'm killed. Not that I would mind that, but . . . I want her to feel special. Know what I mean?"

"We do," James put in. "But there's no reason you can't have a courtship that's tender and yet swift. Annie will understand, if anyone would."

Sirius nodded slowly. Annie's practical bent was one of the reasons he was so attracted to her. She kept him grounded, reminded him of the importance of life, made him laugh even when she bluntly told him to grow up and stop acting like a schoolboy. He loved her fearlessness, of everything except her scars, which she thought made her look like an ugly old witch. It was up to him to reassure her that he thought her beautiful, that the scars were badges of honor, of survival, and he was proud to stand beside her. "You're right. We never know what tomorrow may bring. Especially now, when Moldy Voldy is going about destroying homes and gathering an army somewhere."

"An army?" Petunia sounded alarmed.

"Yeah. An army of monsters and dark wizards," Sirius said, sounding grim. "Only thing is, we can't find out where it is. None of our spies have been able to ferret that out."

Petunia paled, thinking immediately about Lily and Severus. Would they be sent in to ferret out that information? She prayed not. She prayed everyday for an end to this bloody conflict, for she did not want her baby to grow up in a country torn apart by war and death. "Isn't there a way you can just kill the bloody bastard?"

Sirius shook his head. "I wish there was. But he's so powerful, we can't get close enough. And there's been rumors that he's figured out a way to return from the dead or something."

"Do you believe that's possible?"

"I don't know."

"I believe it," James said. "And if he has found a way to cheat death, we need more than ever to find out how and stop him."

"How will you do that?" asked Petunia, covering her stomach protectively.

"I wish like hell I knew," sighed James.

Then he changed the subject, talking about how excited he was about being a father, and teasing Sirius about becoming a responsible husband and godfather. It was a relief to still be able to laugh about something.

SSLSPPJPRBCB

One week later

Snape's cottage, Hogsmeade:

They had finally completed the potion, Severus had done research on the undead, and what types of materials repelled them. The crucifixes and holy symbols probably wouldn't work upon the Inferi. But he did incorporate silver nitrate and the branches and leaves of the laurel into the potion, as well as angelica, vervain, rowan, and holy water. They had decided to make a paste, something able to be rubbed onto the skin. It glowed a faint golden color. Of course, they couldn't test the efficacy of the potion, not having any undead around to do battle with.

Still, all of them were delighted with it. If it worked, it would be a major breakthrough. Arthur was delighted, he felt proud that he had assisted his professor and Zoey with this important task, and that they had succeeded. Not that it hadn't taken a lot of work. Arthur couldn't believe that his potions professor had to re-brew the potion repeatedly for days, changing measurements and re-doing the formula until he had it right. When he had said as much, Severus had given him a wry look.

"What, do you think because I'm a professor that I've never made a mistake and had to re-do a potion? I never claimed to be perfect, I'm as good as I am because of hard work and practice as much as natural talent. That's why I stress those qualities to you and the rest of my students. Aptitude will only take you so far, the rest you need to acquire by work and determination. All of these recipes you brew in class have been tested and re-worked over and over for centuries. Whenever a potion maker brews a new solution, he or she has to test it and re-work the measurements and formula until he gets the proper combination. That could take weeks, months, even years depending upon how difficult the draft is. And who he has assisting him. You did well, Arthur. One day you'll be an excellent potion maker."

Arthur felt as if he had won a million Galleons. Severus never offered praise like that unless you truly earned it, and having a strict taskmaster like Snape say such of him was high praise indeed. But his euphoric mood soon faded with the arrival of Eileen and Jess Marsh that same afternoon.

Arthur had met Eileen only once before, when Severus had taken him to Spinner's End to introduce him to his mother after the guardianship papers had been signed. She had been polite and welcoming to him, saying that she had always wanted another son. Her small daughter had been sleeping then, and he had not been back to Spinner's End since.

That afternoon, Severus and Zoey had wanted to celebrate a little and they had not seen Eileen and Jess in awhile, so they invited the two over for some tea and cakes. Always eager to see her Sevvy, Jess had barreled through the fireplace and practically fell at Severus' feet.

Severus had immediately picked her up, asking if she was all right. It was astonishing how the normally strict and reserved young man could suddenly abandon that persona and become an adoring older brother. "How are you today, imp?" he asked, tickling her gently. "Did you behave for Mum?"

She nodded her head. "I was good, Sevvy." Then she threw her arms about his neck. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Jess," he whispered into her ear. "How would you like to meet someone special?"

"Who?" Jess asked.

Severus turned about, holding his baby sister in one arm and said, "Arthur, I'd like you to meet Jess, my little sister."

Arthur came over and an immediate smile appeared on his face. Jess was adorable, with her long dark curls and pixie face and bright eyes. "Hello. I'm Arthur, but you can call me Art if you want. I live with Severus now."

Jess's eyes grew wide. "You live wif Sevvy?" she looked up at her brother for confirmation.

"Yes. He's like my . . .err . . ." Severus floundered for a moment. He didn't want to say "son" because he knew Arthur didn't want him replacing his real father, but Jess wouldn't understand what a ward meant. Finally he settled on, "He's like my little brother."

Jess immediately pouted and glared at him. "No, Sevvy! You is my big brudder! Mine!" She glared at Arthur. "Not yours!" She wriggled to get down and ran over to Eileen. "Mummy, I wanna stay wif Sevvy too!"

Eileen looked down at her daughter and said, "Seems to me like someone's jealous. Jessamyn, don't be rude. Sevvy can have a little sister and a brother."

But Jess would have none of it. "No! No!" she howled, stamping her foot. Then she burst into tears and ran into the den, sobbing. She understood sharing toys and food, but she had never had to share her brother and it made her very upset.

Eileen gave Arthur an apologetic look. "I'm sorry she's behaving like a brat. But she adores Severus and she's never had to share him with anyone. It's a difficult age."

"That's okay, ma'am. I used to be an older brother myself, and sometimes my two little sisters used to fight over me like crazy." Arthur said quietly, his eyes filled with pain mingled with love. "She doesn't understand yet."

"Mum, let's have some tea and cakes and I'll tell you about the potion we've just brewed." Severus suggested. "Let Jess calm down a bit."

Lily entered, still wearing the Glamour, which Severus had told Eileen was a safety precaution, since some of the Death Eaters tended to appear in Hogsmeade and they bore no love for Muggleborn witches. He also told her about the false name, having Flooed her last evening, so she wasn't shocked when Zoey came in.

"What's going on? Jess having a tantrum?" she asked.

"She discovered that she has to share Sev with Arthur and doesn't like it one bit," Eileen said.

"Oh. I remember my mum telling me how jealous my sister Petunia was when I was born," Lily chuckled. "She told Mum to send me back to the hospital, that she didn't need another little girl."

Eileen nodded. "Yes, I remember Polly telling me that. But she came round once she realized that she could play with a little sister and you were more interesting than a doll. Now, what's this about a new potion?"

Lily and Severus began to tell her about the potion while eating the small finger sandwiches and frosted ginger cake. An hour went by, and Jess was still sulking in the den. Severus tried to coax her into the kitchen with a cake, but she snapped, "Go 'way, Sevvy! You is bad!"

"Why? Because I have a little brother now?"

Jess sniffled. "Yes."

Severus knelt down and picked her up, sitting on the couch with her in his lap. "Listen to me, Jess. Arthur living with me doesn't mean I love you any less. You'll always be my baby sister, and I shall always love you."

She looked uncertain. "Tell Art to go live with Mummy."

"And you stay here? But Jess, won't you miss Mum? And Dad? They'd miss you. You belong with them."

Jess thought about it for a moment. She would miss her mum. But at the same time she didn't want to lose her brother. "I wanna stay wif you!"

"You can sleep over next week, all right?" He told her, trying to keep her from crying. He hated it when she cried. "Stop crying, silly girl. I'm not going anywhere and I'll always be your big brother."

"Promise?"

"Promise. Now, how about a ginger cake? Lily baked them especially for you."

"Yay!" Jess cheered, then allowed her brother to bring her into the kitchen, where she ate a ginger cake and a cucumber sandwich sitting on his lap. They gave her a mostly milk tea to drink out of a tiny plastic tea cup (it was from her doll teaset) so she could feel like a big girl.

Jess was happy, though she totally snubbed poor Arthur, refusing to even look at him. Arthur did not try and speak with her, instead going into the den to read a magazine, leaving the adults to discuss things like the rising price of potions ingredients and the latest news in the Prophet, which was usually about Voldemort and Arthur didn't want to hear about any more tragedies. He had enough to deal with.

A little while later, Jess grew bored and entered the den. She found Arthur sitting on the couch next to her doll and she ran over and snatched the pink robed rag witch up, clutching it to her and crying. "My Gwenny! You no touch her!"

Arthur looked down at her, thinking that even with that little scowl she was still too cute. She reminded him so much of his baby sister, now gone forever, that he had to blink back tears. He began to try and make friends with her again. "I won't touch her. She's very special, and I'll bet you love her a lot."

Jess nodded. "Daddy gave her to me. So's I won't be a'scared of the dark."

Arthur smiled. "The dark can be scary. I had a little sister once and she used to get scared of the dark too. I used to let her sleep with me sometimes."

"You did? You was a big brudder like Sevvy?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes."

"Where's you sister?"

"She's in heaven," he answered. "With my mum and dad and my other little sister."

Jess stared at him. She understood hazily the concept of death, knowing that heaven was the place you went to after it happened. But one thing she did sense was that the boy was sad. "Do you miss them?"

"All the time."

"Oh."

"That's why I live with Sev," Arthur explained softly, blinking hard. "He's like my big brother now."

Jess scowled. "He's my brudder!"

"You know, you can have two big brothers," he began.

"Two?"

"Uh huh. Just like I had two little sisters. I know you love Sevvy," he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing as he said Jess's nickname for his professor, who would surely kill him if he ever told anyone at school about it. "But he can't always be around to play with you and stuff. And I'll bet sometimes he scolds you too."

The little girl nodded. "He puts me in time out and 'macks my bum when I'm bad."

"That's what I thought. But I won't do that to you. You can just have fun with me."

"Will you play dolls wif me?"

"Uh . . .I can take you flying instead," he said quickly. "How about that?"

"On a broom?" she clarified. Jess had gone flying a few times with Dickon, but he hadn't been home in a long time.

"Yes. Would you like to?"

"Now?"

"Sure. Why not?" he said. Then he added. "If your mum says it's okay."

Together they went and asked Eileen for permission, and then Arthur took her about the village, flying slowly and carefully, as he had always wished he could do with his own sisters. But they had died before he could introduce them to a broomstick. Jess squealed and waved, thoroughly enjoying the flight. By the time Arthur landed, Jess decided he was fun to play with.

He walked her to the small meadow and helped her pick flowers and showed her how to make chains of them, which was something he had learned from his mother. Then he set a daisy crown on her head. "There, now you're a princess."

She giggled and spun around and around. "I'm a princess!"

By the time she had tired of that game and Arthur took her hand to walk her back to the cottage, she had made up her mind. Upon entering the cottage, she ran to Eileen to show her the daisy crown.

Eileen told her how lovely she looked, and Jess announced, "My other big brudder maked it for me, Mummy."

Eileen raised an eyebrow. "Your other brother?"

"Now I have two brudders," she declared. "Sevvy and Art!"

"And you'll need the both of them to keep you out of trouble, miss!" said her mother. She tweaked her daughter's nose. "Now, say goodbye to Art and Sevvy. It's time to go home."

Jess cried a bit, but after Severus assured her she could come for the weekend next time and Arthur promised her another ride on his broom, a long one, she gave in and said she'd go home. She gave both "brothers" a kiss and a hug before departing, waving over Eileen's shoulder, "Bye! See you next time!"

Arthur waved back, and for the first time since coming to live with the Snapes, felt more like a part of the family instead of a war orphan.

PPJPSSLSRB

Malfoy Manor

The next night:

The Dark Lord had called a special meeting of all his loyal followers, and for once Severus was glad that the meetings were always in the dead of night, that way Arthur was asleep and unaware that his guardians were missing. He wondered what it was that required almost all the Death Eaters to be present to hear, but no one seemed to know anything, not even Lucius. Lucius did have rather important news to share, Narcissa was pregnant with their first child, and several toasts of wine and ale were drunk before Voldemort made his appearance.

As soon as the Dark Lord made his entrance, all the Death Eaters went still, then they knelt and murmured, "Hail, Master and Lord of Darkness."

That was the new title Voldemort had requested they use, and all of them did so without even thinking about it. All except the spies in their midst, who found the title tasted bitter in their mouths, but forced their tongues about it anyhow.

Voldemort beckoned them to rise.

Severus rose, and his hand found his wife's, as she was standing next to him. Narcissa was on her other side, they were standing to the left of Voldemort, whose hand was caressing the head of his great queen cobra, coiled on his right.

"My loyal and faithful children, it has come to my attention that we are hard pressed by our enemies, and have suffered grievous losses of friends and family. While the time is coming when we shall strike back against our enemies, and have them pay in blood for their audacity, I would remind you all that you have a duty to preserve the future of our race—the pureblood wizards who founded our society, who gave us culture and knowledge and pride in our magic and ourselves. Blood will tell, and though mongrels and Mudbloods harass us, our might will not be denied! One by one, we shall crush them beneath our boots, and make sure they will never rise again.

"Thus will our place in the world be assured. The time is coming when I shall rule over all the wizarding world, and you will stand beneath me, as my loyal nobles, you and your children. Your children are precious, deserving of all that you can give them, and they are the continuation of our race. It is my intent to bind them even more firmly to our cause, to teach them from the cradle our creed and our way."

Voldemort's voice was sweet, seductive, like syrup of hellebore. Zoey shook upon hearing it, for she knew that when the Dark Lord spoke in those beguiling tones, it meant he was planning something diabolical. She went suddenly cold, and her hand splayed across her belly. What terrible plot was he hatching now?

"It has come to my attention that Lord Malfoy has an heir on the way. I offer you congratulations, Lucius. He shall be the first to be Marked under my new rule, that way his loyalty to me and our cause shall be assured. When the boy turns six, I shall Mark him for my own, and thus our ranks shall never be depleted. He will be the first of the Young Iron Masks, as I command all of you to find a mate and get with child. Any sons of your union shall be Marked when they are children, and grow up learning that Magic is Might, and Might Makes Right. They shall begin learning the dark arts as soon as they can harness their magic, and thus our future is assured. Thus I have spoken and thus it shall be!"

Everyone bowed their heads and murmured, "Yes, Master. Your will before ours!"

Lily had never been so thankful for the mask she wore that hid her features. Otherwise she feared she would have given herself away because of the revulsion curling up her lip and glittering from her eyes. Merlin save us all, but he truly is mad! Now it's not enough that he kills and seduces us into the dark, now he wishes to corrupt our children as well! Horror stole through her and she glanced sideways at Narcissa.

Their eyes met and she saw that the other woman also looked horrified. Narcissa had a hand over her bulging abdomen and for an instant the two women were bound by a shared revulsion of the monster parading as a man before them. Lily reached over and squeezed her hand.

"Narcissa, you can't . . ." she whispered.

Narcissa dropped her eyes. "I must. I can do no less. I am loyal. I am loyal. Or else all is lost." She muttered. She released Zoey's hand. "Sister, remember your oath."

Zoey nodded. "I remember," she replied, turning away. But I shall never submit! Never! My child shall never be a slave to the dark. Yet even as she thought it, she felt terror creep chillingly up her spine. For she did not know for sure, she had never been regular with her monthly cycles, but she had skipped two months already. Once the mere thought of carrying Severus' child would have brought her great joy. But now that joy was tainted, tarnished by Voldemort and his decree. How can I bring a child into the world under these conditions? How? May God and Merlin help me. Oh, Severus, what if I am pregnant? How will we live with this over our heads?

She remained upright, her eyes forward and expressionless behind her mask, but inwardly she was screaming, screaming in defiance, and vowing to kill Voldemort herself before allowing harm to come to her unborn child.

Severus felt Lily stiffen next to him, and he moved and put an arm about her gently, beneath the robes so no one would see. The Dark Lord frowned upon displays of affection from his Death Eaters, even between husband and wives. This proclamation was chilling, to say the least. He had one thing to be grateful for, and that was that he had no child to give to the Dark Lord's tender mercies. Until he recalled Arthur. And he prayed that the madman in wizard's clothing would not insist he make his ward into one of them. But as quickly as the thought crossed his mind, he rejected it. Arthur was Muggleborn, not fit to mingle with them. So he could not be converted. He almost breathed a sigh of relief, before he remembered that Arthur could be killed if Voldemort chose. He had left the boy alive on a whim, but he might change his mind.

They had to do nothing to draw attention to themselves. Not yet. Severus gritted his teeth and wished Voldemort and his dark followers blown back to hell. It couldn't happen soon enough.

At last the meeting ended and Severus and Zoey took their leave. They Apparated back to the cottage and found that all was still and peaceful. Stripping off their hated robes and masks, Severus and Lily quickly hid them away, concealing them beneath a secret compartment in the bottom of their wardrobe.

"I need to take a shower." Lily said. "A long hot one, to rid myself of the stench."

Severus nodded, generously allowing her to go first. He glared at the Dark Mark upon his arm, fighting the urge to scratch it. "Go ahead, love."

Lily slipped into the bathroom, taking her wand with her.

A moment later he heard the shower running.

Ten minutes later he heard the water stop. Then he heard a soft moan. "Lily?" he called. "What's wrong? Are you sick?" he knocked softly at the bathroom door.

Suddenly the door was jerked open. Lily had a towel wrapped about her, but her face was deathly pale. Her emerald eyes had a stunned look in them, glazed as if she were in shock.

"Lily? What is it?" he asked again, panicking. He had never seen that look upon her face before. He moved to hug her.

But she pulled away. "Oh, Severus!" she hissed, choking on the words. "I'm . . . pregnant!"

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