CHAPTER 2
"Don't wander too far off," Snape snarls at me.
To my surprise, he hands me my wand; it's the same ten-inch cherry wand it was before Malfoy expelled it from my hand, only now it seems so much more beautiful as I stare down at it, wholly encompassed with relief because I truly thought that it would be lost forever. It's been the one and only constant in my life for four years, and having it back in my grasp almost brings me to tears. Until now, I never realized how much it means to me. Despite how frustrated I now am at the idea of being forced into Hogwarts, I am grateful it led to me getting my wand back. "Thank you," I say to him in disbelief, still looking at the wand. "Thank you."
Before I can ask how he got it, Snape thrusts me the bag and parchment given to him by Dumbledore. "Here is a Hogwarts loan to underprivileged students and the list of supplies you will need while attending this year." This is the first bit of money not stolen that I have held in my hands in years. I look back up at him, almost hoping for a chance to try to resolve the animosity we've started out on—because he's the Death Eater with which I will unfortunately have to affiliate the most for now and life will be easier if we aren't constantly at odds—but he is already distancing himself from me.
Regardless of my desire for us to be cordial, a huge weight removes itself from my shoulders as he fades into the crowd, no doubt trying to stay a reasonable distance away while still "babysitting" me. While I had tried to let that comment go over my head, it bothers me. He obviously does not want to watch me, and I doubt I can make it any clearer that I do not want to be watched at Hogwarts. If Snape would just let me disappear, neither of us would ever have to deal with the other again. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time I escaped from a Death Eater, so it surely can't be a big deal to them anymore.
Finally, when Snape is far enough away, I sprint away, hoping to find a place where I can Apparate back to the house to retrieve my belongings. Periodically glancing back to see where he is, I notice that he has already seen me and is, in fact, still following me. I groan, begrudgingly accepting that this will be more difficult than I originally imagined. I dash into a shop called "Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions" and weave my way through the people who are already in there.
Snape stands just outside. I dodge out of his line of sight and Disapparate from the shop. The feeling of being forced into a tube comes over me before I arrive in the Muggle home that has been my refuge for the past two weeks.
There are two hallways, one leading to the largest room (probably belonging to the parents) and one leading to two smaller ones (probably belonging to their children). I go to the largest of the rooms. Never having been one to do things halfway when it comes to my personal comfort (because I so rarely get the chance to actually stay in a comfortable place), I had claimed the parents' room as mine for the duration of my stay.
My things are neatly piled in the corner where I had left them. I grab my rucksack and begin cramming everything of mine into it. It's not much: some Muggle clothes, one set of robes, and some books. When I finally get to my books, I gingerly place each one into the bag. These things have kept me sane over the past five years, teaching me much about the magical world I would otherwise have no idea about, and I refuse to let a single one of them sustain damage due to my carelessness.
I sling the bag onto my back, but before Disapparating, my eyes land on the family's picture cozily nestled on the mantle above the largest room's fireplace. They're so happy, this family. A young son and a precious daughter, both of whom have their mother's blonde hair and their father's brown eyes.
"Accio." The picture slowly lifts itself off the mantle and floats towards me, gently landing in my hands. A dark hole opens in my heart. This is all I've ever wanted: a family. And here is this Muggle family, here is this insignificant family, here is this family who knows they are unimportant to the rest of the world, and yet they are happy. And here I am, the runaway who will have Voldemort's child, the orphan with no family, the one who stands a chance—according to a Death Eater who thought he was paying me a compliment—to tip the balance of this war against Voldemort for the worst (well, best, according to that same Death Eater), and I'm . . . nothing. I'm miserable. I'm alone. My world, for the past five years, has consisted of running for my life, begging for mercy from whatever god will listen, and crawling my way from day to day.
Why did they get this happy life when I am left with nothing but the clothes on my back and a half-empty rucksack?
The picture slams into my knee, shattering, splitting in half, and I drop it on the floor. They don't deserve their happiness. What have they done for it? What makes them worthy and not me?
With one last resentful look around the room, I prepare to Disapparate but stop when a thought occurs to me: just Apparate somewhere else and go back into hiding. It would be so incredibly easy to disappear, and it's unlikely Snape would even come looking. As he wouldn't be the first Death Eater to lose me, it's doubtful he would even face severe consequences. Why do I care about his consequences at all? He's a Death Eater.
But as I continue standing there debating the merits of just up and leaving again, something drains the fight out of me. I'm tired. I'm so tired of running and hiding and fighting for my life. I'm so dreadfully sick of it. What I want more than anything is to be somewhere safe for more than a week or two. A place where I can have real food and perhaps meet someone, or multiple people, who can help me escape my fate.
A school could present those people to me. Surely there are professors there who aren't Death Eaters, who want to see Voldemort vanquished, who will help me if they ever learn the truth about what I am to do. This might be my only chance to be at a place surrounded by talented witches and wizards who are not actively trying to capture me or hurt me. This could be my way out.
A little spark of hope taking hold of me, I Apparate back to Diagon Alley but do not go back to the robe shop and instead go to the bookstore "Flourish and Botts" where I purchase the books from the list, most secondhand.
Nearly an hour later, after having found everything necessary for the upcoming year at Hogwarts, I find Snape still standing outside Madam Malkin's, looking particularly impatient, almost to the point where I believe he might storm in after me and force me out of the shop. I approach him from the side. "I'm ready."
Taken by surprise, he doesn't speak for a second but looks back inside the robe shop. "Where did you go?" he asks me, sounding much angrier than the situation truly warrants.
"Through the alley," I answer defensively, "getting the things I need for Hogwarts"—I spit the name of the school out of my mouth like it is a poison—"like I was supposed to."
Snape looks closely at me for a moment, like he wants to say something scathing, but seemingly decides against it. "Then it is time for us to leave." And again, acting completely in awe of the idea of Apparation, I take his arm, and we're gone.
We stop on the edge of a small village full of people. Up ahead, looming in the distance, is the castle. "What's this place?" I ask.
"Hogsmeade. Now come on."
He starts toward the castle, and I follow despite the desire to enter the village and look around. "What's Hogsmeade?"
"The only all-wizarding village in Britain."
"Can I—"
"No."
"But—"
"I will not argue with you. Had the Dark Lord wanted to allow you into Hogsmeade—"
"Are students allowed in Hogsmeade?"
"Yes, with parental permission. I take it you don't have that."
I roll my eyes at him. "Won't it look odd for one student to never go into Hogsmeade?"
"Plenty of students remain at the castle on Hogsmeade weekend, particularly fifth-years who will be studying for their O.W.L.s." I stare at him uncomprehendingly. "Ordinary Wizarding Levels. They determine career paths you make take after Hogwarts."
"I think we both know what I'll be doing," I say blandly. Then I glance at him. "Raising the Dark Lord's child, yeah?" He does not indicate he heard me. "So I won't be allowed in the village? Who can I ask permission from? The Malfoys? Would Narcissa—"
He laughs mirthlessly. "They would no sooner allow you out of the castle than they would willingly go to Azkaban. Or have you forgotten the trouble you've caused them?"
"Could you grant me permission to—"
"I will not."
"Not even if it allows you to get rid of me for a little while?" His lip twitches as if he is tempted to smile, but his expression never truly changes. "Could you appeal to the Dark Lord? Won't he want me seeming like a normal new student? And wouldn't a new student want to see Hogsmeade?"
His eyes fall on me momentarily, but he offers no answer.
I hoist my rucksack higher onto my back and ask, "Why don't we just Apparate straight into the castle?"
"Charms prevent Apparation inside or on the grounds."
That's so odd—I've never had any trouble Apparating anywhere before. "Why?" I ask, though the answer feels fairly obvious.
"Protections against Dark Wizards, such as the Dark Lord."
His curt tone does nothing to dissuade me from asking questions to figure out more about this place in which I am to be imprisoned. "Well, then it hasn't worked, has it?"
Snape steals a glance at me. "How has it not worked?"
"Well, it's just that you're here. I know you're a Death Eater. Death Eaters are followers of Voldemort. So, in a way, Lord Voldemort has penetrated the Hogwarts defenses, correct?"
Instead of answering my question, Snape says, "Do not use the Dark Lord's name."
"If I'm going to be forced to have his baby, I believe I am entitled to call him whatever I want to call him," I answer defiantly. Snape doesn't even reply this time. When we enter Hogwarts, we don't go up the stairs, which is the only path I know at all. This time, we descend deeper into the belly of the castle, and with each step into the cold regions of the castle, nausea discomforts me. Did my parents go here? Were they interested in the Dark Arts as students? Did Voldemort come to Hogwarts? The very thought gives me chills, makes me want to run away again. I can't do this, I can't stay here. I need to leave.
We continue descending. "Where are we going?"
"The Slytherin common room is in the dungeon."
Repulsive.
Snape walks over to one of the walls and says something, but I'm too fearful of being trapped in another dungeon to hear him. "The password will change at the beginning of the school year."
"I'm sorry, the what will change?"
"The password, Rodgers," he says impatiently. "I suggest you pay attention. It will serve you well as you spend your year here. For now, the password is 'Salazar.'"
The room we step into glows green, probably from the greenish lamps hanging by chains from the stone ceiling or from the lake that is separated from the room by nothing more than glass. The dungeon is under the lake. Just brilliant—that means escape is not only impossible but also completely unreasonable. I'm beginning to hate this place more now. You need to stay and find help. I can only assume from the copious amounts of green and silver furniture scattered around the room that the Slytherin colors are green and silver.
Under the elaborately carved mantelpiece straight ahead of me, a fire crackles, casting odd shadows around the already sketchy-looking room. I can only imagine the horrors that have taken place in here. Scattered around the room are multiple large tables, probably used by students schoolwork. Oh hell. Are they going to expect me to act like a normal student? "If I don't want to be here, I obviously don't care if I pass or fail," I tell Snape, "so is it necessary for me to do any of the work that will no doubt be assigned?"
He sighs. "Yes, you will have to do all of the work in order to maintain the façade that you are a normal student."
"Well," I say, now thoroughly annoyed, "I find myself tired of your company. Where can I go?"
Snape clenches his teeth together but almost seems like he shares the sentiment. "Through there." He points to a door on the right. "Go through there and up the stairs. You'll find different rooms for each year. You'll be a fifth-year." He turns and walks out of the room.
"But this is technically my first year."
Snape does not so much as glance at me before walking away. Once he's gone, I go to door and push it open to find, as he had said, a set of steps leading to an open circular area with seven doors, each for a different year. I find the one that, judging by the sign, is for fifth-years, then step inside. This room is circular as well, with five four-poster beds against the wall and a window looking into the lake between each bed. The same as it was in the common room, green and silver are the main colors of this room, even of the curtains offering privacy over each bed.
I throw my rucksack onto the bed farthest from the door and look around. After having camped out in a number of houses (when it was at all possible), always getting the largest room, and having the house to myself, it'll take some time to adapt to sharing a room with four others. Even when I was living in caves, I had the whole place to myself, and now I have to share my living space with a crowd of people. While that thought saddens me, I suppose it will still be more comfortable than those caves, which means it will be far better than the worst lodgings I've ever had.
I flop down onto the bed, open my rucksack, and remove one of my Transfiguration books to continue practicing, as well as Hogwarts: A History for when a break from studying is needed.
When I wake the next morning, my beaten, scratched pocket watch shows that it is far too late to just now be getting up right now, which is confirmed as I leave the Slytherin Dungeon, ascend the stairs, and find that the sun is high in the sky. At least the dungeon provides the darkness necessary to sleep well and sleep for a long time.
There are only two people inside the castle whom I have met: Dumbledore and Snape. Dumbledore is gone—something to do with a hearing—I'd prefer to stay as far away from Snape as possible. As he is likely in his office, I decide to explore, comforted by the knowledge that I probably won't have to interact with either person I've met.
Toward the entrance of Hogwarts is a large room with four extremely long tables. This must be the Great Hall that I read about in Hogwarts: A History last night. At the end of this room is a table with a large throne-like chair in the center. Not overly interested in the room at the moment, I continue my search, determined to reach one of the highest points of castle so I can look at the entire grounds of Hogwarts. If I will be staying here for a while, I want to see Hogwarts in its entirety.
It is sheer luck when I find the West Tower. Judging by the owls swooping around in here, this must be the Owlery. A wide smile breaks its way across my face against my will as I imagine what it must be like to fly around, to be free, to be loved and well-cared for. These owls have the perfect life.
One of them flies down toward me and lands on the perch in front of my face. The creature squints its black eyes at me and cocks its head to the side.
"Hello," I say to it. It flies away before I can act on my desire to reach out and touch it. Envy rushes through my chest. I want to fly, to escape this hell. I need to find a way out of this life that does not require me giving up who I am, because who I am is all that I have in this world, and Lord Voldemort will not strip me of the one thing that is mine.
I leave the owls and begin making my way back to the Slytherin Dungeon. There is nowhere else of interest to me in this castle, which means I am just becoming too frustrated with my imprisonment to appreciate the castle. I need to go lie down. "Who are you?" a voice asks me as I pass the Great Hall again. Horror seizes me, and it becomes difficult to breathe, almost like my lungs have frozen. Trying to calm my breathing, I turn. Before me, towering over me, almost a head and shoulders than I am, is a beautiful, stern-looking witch with her hair pulled back in a tight bun, and my voice fails me. This is what teachers are supposed to look like. "I expect an answer when I ask a question."
Inhaling slowly, trying to calm myself down in the presence of this truly imposing woman, I say, "Char-Charlotte Rodgers." Her skepticism isn't hidden very well. "And who are you?" The words slip out before I can stop them.
"I am Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmistress. I am the Transfiguration professor here at Hogwarts," she says quickly. "What are you doing here?"
Having not prepared a lie detailed enough to hoodwink a professor at Hogwarts—and also feeling slightly uninterested in lying to her—I am left speechless, scrambling for anything that can help me answer. Why did I not speak to Dumbledore about this? Why did I not try to get this settled with Snape before telling him to leave me alone? What am I supposed to be telling people as a reason for my presence here?
Before I have to dream up some lie, Snape arrives. "My apologies, Professor McGonagall," he says, not sounding the least bit sincere, "this is a student here by permission of the headmaster. She will be attending Hogwarts this year."
McGonagall nods. "Has she been Sorted?"
"Slytherin," he answers. "Fifth year. Her name is Charlotte Rodgers." I really don't appreciate them talking about me as if I am not standing right beside them.
McGonagall says, "I need a word with Professor Dumbledore." Then she turns and makes her way out of the corridor, leaving me with Snape.
He glances at me. "Who told you that you could leave the common room?"
"Who told me I couldn't?"
His nostrils flare. "Go back to the dungeon and do not wander around the castle until the other staff members have been informed."
"How am I supposed to know when that is?"
He leaves without answering.
With nothing left to do and no desire to search the rest of the castle in fear that I will stumble across another unsuspecting professor, I head back to the Slytherin common room.
Luckily for me, due to my slow pace to give a wide berth between Snape and me, I manage to run into McGonagall again before reaching the dungeons. We briefly have eye contact as we pass each other in one of the corridors. I stop dead in my tracks, debating whether I should risk speaking with her and wasting her time. After a moment, I turn and chase her down.
"Professor?" I say, trying not to breathe too heavily from the short jog. Even now, with her stride much longer than mine, I have to move quickly to keep pace with her.
She turns enough to acknowledge me but doesn't stop walking. "Yes, Rodgers?"
Why do the professors refer to students as their surnames? Is it to distance themselves from the students? And if that's the reason, why are they trying to distance themselves? I keep this to myself and instead ask the question that I had planned to ask, "You said you teach Transfiguration, yeah?"
"That is correct." By this time, she has slowed down, making it easier to keep up with her. "I can assume you have been taught at your previous school the dangers, implications, and benefits of Transfiguration?"
"Previous school?" I laugh without thinking. "Muggle schools don't teach that."
McGonagall stops suddenly, immediately causing me to regret my slip-up. "You've never been to a school that teaches magic?" she says quietly. "How do you expect to make it anywhere in the Wizarding World having never been taught magic? All those in your year have had four years of lessons behind them."
"Oh, I've been taught, Professor," I assure her with a smile. "I've taught myself magic since I was ten. I think I'll be able to scrape by." Her lips become thin, and I hurry on to ease the rising tension, to try to convince her I'm not a complete idiot. "But I did want to ask you something about Transfiguration." She nods, and I take that as a go ahead. "About a month ago, I was—well, starving quite honestly—and there was a huge rock in—" I stop myself. She doesn't need to know that I was hiding out in a cave recently. "Anyway—" Her eyebrows crease, and I almost gulp, desperately needing to get through this before she starts questioning me about my life prior to showing up here. "Anyways, I tried transfiguring it into a loaf of bread, but it wouldn't work. Why?"
"Food is one of The Five Principle Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. The food must already be there for you to transform it or duplicate it. Or you can summon it if you know where it is, but you cannot make food from something that is not."
How have I not read this in any of the Transfiguration books I've studied? "That makes sense. Thank you." I turn on my heel, knowing full well that McGonagall is watching me, but cannot muster an ounce of my being to truly care. All I currently want to do is lie down for a while and pretend I didn't just make a fool of myself. As I leave McGonagall behind, I decide to go to the Great Hall, only to find a small creature cleaning the table. "Hello?" I call to it. "Who—what are you?"
"Dobby is a house-elf," he says in a high, squeaky voice.
"A house-elf?" If I remember correctly, they are the servants of wizards. "So, do you have access to the kitchens?"
"Yes, Dobby works all over Hogwarts. Dobby gets paid to work. Dobby is a free elf," he answers proudly.
I smile at him. "Could you bring me some water? And maybe something to eat?"
"Yes, Dobby will go right away."
"Wait, wait!" I say quickly. The little house-elf watches me. "Could you, maybe, take it to the Slytherin Dungeon?"
"Dobby will take the food to the Slytherin Dungeon," he agrees. And with that, the elf disappears with a loud crack!
I start toward the dungeons once more, planning to skim through my Transfiguration books to see how I could have missed The Five Principle Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration.
Even though I have more time to relax now because Death Eaters cannot get me here, even though I will apparently always have food and drink when I need it, even though I have more time to lazily study Transfiguration without the fear of someone finding me, I have a feeling that life here at Hogwarts is going to be another level of hell. Perhaps I made a bad choice when I went back to Diagon Alley instead of escaping.