Chapter Ten

After the meeting, Severus has barely enough energy left to apparate. Luckily, they appear in the park across from Grimmauld Place in one piece. Severus collapses, now truly too weak, and Sasha has to support him to the hidden house. When they walk in, she sees the light in the kitchen and hears several people talking along with the clinking sounds of cutlery.

She is still on a high, still submersed in darkness. She attempts to stay rational enough – focus, Sasha, focus – to bring Severus up the stairs and into a room. Using her reinforced powers, she levitates the, by now unconscious, man up the stairs and into her room, where she deposits him on the bed. Sasha then collapses on the floor, lying on her back, enjoying the aftershocks of raw power flickering through her being. When she hears someone mounting the stairs, she reminds herself she must appear as normal as possible to them and quickly rises.

"Sasha? Severus?" Remus' voice sounds through the door, "Are you in there?"

After breathing in deeply and putting a worried look on her face, she opens the door to Remus, Molly and Sirius. Soon, though, the youngest occupants of the home come into view also and they are promptly pushed back into their rooms by Molly.

She lets them in by stepping back from the door.

"Sasha, what happened? Where is—," Molly asks as she comes in after the two men. "Oh dear," she cries out when she sees the tall, dark man laying upon the small bed.

"We were called by the Dark Lord," Sasha explains, "Severus was injured. I'm okay," she quickly adds when the three adults quickly look her over to see if she has any wounds.

Sirius calls his house elf, "Kreacher!" With a crack! The old elf appears. As always he's murmuring things about blood-traitors, mudbloods and filth.

"Kreacher, shut up and bring us a bowl of fresh water and a clean rag."

"Yes, master," the elf sneers. He's back soon with the two objects. "That will be all." The elf disappears again.

Molly takes the rag, wets it and washes Severus' face with it – it's the strangest situation Sasha has seen Severus in –, as Sirius puts the bowl on the bedside table.

"We must notify Albus," Remus responds to Sasha's explanation, "I don't recognise why Severus has slipped in unconsciousness. Albus will know what to do."

Sasha feels overwhelmed by all of them, constantly checking whether she is okay, asking for details on what happened for Severus to be unconscious for such a long time. She knows why, as she's the one who is the primary cause for this, but she doesn't know how to tell them. After all, even if they don't use the kind of spell she used on Severus in their magic, they will undoubtedly realise it isn't exactly the lightest magic around. She also knows the only way for him to recover is to sleep and regain his magic in this natural way. There is no other cure but to literally 'sleep it off', at least in her books. Despite her telling them he will wake up after some time, needing this time to recover, they still notify Dumbledore. It's understandable, she knows, after all he's one of the greatest wizards to have ever existed, so he must know what is going on, but this is exactly what worries her. Dumbledore might notice she used dark magic, and then they will no longer trust her.

Honestly, she would rather be back at Malfoy Mansion, using her newfound powers and enjoy them, than stay here and doing nothing with it. What is the point of having all this power flowing through her if she can't use it? Despite this, she still firmly believes Harry's side should be the one to win; if the Dark Lord succeeds, he'll be a dictator, which is never good.

She is sitting on an old wooden chair, in her room, near the window, watching the dark, cloudy night-sky, her right foot on the seat, her chin propped up on her knee. Severus is still laying on her bed, unmoving, with an empty chair next to him. Until about five minutes ago there was constantly someone at his side. After a while she looks away from the sky and focuses her eyes on her left forearm, as she pulls up the black sleeve. A twisted snake along with a morbid skull greet her sight.

"Yes," the Dark Lord hissed, "Good, very good." He looked up from the corpse to its killer, standing at his side. "You have proven yourself, loyal servant of mine. Pull up the sleeve of your left arm."

She revealed her white skin and offered it to him, an idea in mind of what he was going to do. He caught her wrist and pulled it towards himself, putting the tip of his wand to her skin, "Morsmordre," he drawled.

She became aware of a sharp pinching, no, slicing sensation, as if something was being carved into her arm. She had to grit her teeth to make no sound; it hurt. Soon the painful moment was over, and a black tattoo covered her forearm. He let go of her arm, observing her face. She raised her arm to her face, carefully watching the snake's movement as she traced it with her right hand's fingers.

"Severus told you, I'm sure?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Good. Let us continue." He turned back to the table containing the rest of his servants, as Sasha went to sit between Severus and Bellatrix.

She smiled at the woman, receiving a manic one back, "You're one of us now," Bellatrix happily told her.

Suddenly the door opens again and she pulls her sleeve back down. Dumbledore, wearing purplish robes, comes in hurriedly, immediately fixing his gaze on the sleeping professor. He sits on the chair next to the bed and starts moving his wand in intricate patterns over the man's body. He's simultaneously murmuring something. When he stops his casting, he finally speaks out loud, his gaze still on Severus.

"What exactly happened at the meeting, Ms Louhi?"

"As I already told everyone else—"

"You didn't tell them the complete truth, though, did you, Ms Louhi?"

She momentarily closes her eyes, recollecting herself. She turns on her seat, putting both feet on the floor, and faces the headmaster.

"I do not know of what you speak, Sir." Her voice is colder than she would have liked, and Dumbledore notices as well. He sharply looks up, taking in her appearance. He isn't, like the others, checking for injuries, no, he's looking at her slightly altered looks – the darkened eyes, the empowered aura; the change Severus also noticed, a few hours ago. His eyes still scrutinize her as he stands up and steps closer. She too gets off her seat, revealing her new clothes.

"Bellatrix gave you something to wear," he notices, recognising the witch's rather unique style, "She must like you. I wonder why."

He puts another step forward and she steps back, on the defensive.

"Perhaps," he continues, "it's because you are darker than a few days ago."

"Darker, Sir?"

"Do not challenge me, Ms Louhi," he warns, his voice taking on an unusually stern tone, "You drained Severus' magical power, which is dark magic. You might fool others but you will not fool me. Now tell me, has Voldemort swayed you to his camp?"

She smirks at him, for some reason feeling playful – probably and after-effect of her being high on dark magic –, not answering, but thinking, 'Even if it was so, as if I would tell you,' her eyes glint darkly as she stares into his.

"Legilimens!"

Her breath catches, not expecting this tactic. She isn't trained in occlumency and therefore can't throw the headmaster out of her mind. He watches the memory of the last few hours, starting with her draining of Severus' power. He sees how she tortured and killed. He looks at Voldemort's reaction to her, his gifting her with his mark. He observes the entire meeting, the torture of several people, interrogations, and Voldemort telling the Death Eaters about an object he will soon ask them to retrieve, a prophecy.

Sasha is raging when Dumbledore finally leaves her mind. Forcing herself to stay calm, she attempts to appear collected.

"Ms Louhi, this is not you," his tone is soft, calming, "don't you see? Voldemort wants you to succumb to the dark, but that isn't you. You are good, you aren't a monster. You know you can control this side. You are no assassin."

"You don't know me. But I'm okay, there's no need for worry."

He nods pensively, "You will stay here, in this room, for now, until Severus wakes, so we are sure you won't hurt anyone."

"But I won't, I just told you, I'm fine," she attempts to persuade him. He doesn't believe her, obviously, and swiftly changes the subject.

Looking to the unconscious man, he speaks, "And Severus will simply have to sleep to regain his strengths, though I'm sure you knew that already. Good evening, Ms Louhi."

The headmaster walks through the door and turns around again. With a pitying look in his eyes, a look she hates, he casts something she, at first, doesn't understand. He closes the door after a final nod.

As soon as he's gone, she takes quick steps to the door and attempts to open it, to get out of here. The door doesn't budge. She tries again, and then with magic. Nothing works. He has locked her in with his own powerful magic.

On the first floor everyone hears her angered cry, "No!"

[To be continued]