CHAPTER 39

Two weeks into December I'm allowed to guard the castle with the other Order members for the first time. I'm lying awake in my bed, checking my watch every few minutes, waiting for the appointed time to meet Snape outside the Slytherin Dungeon, after which he will take me to whoever my patrolling partner will be.

When at last the clock strikes twelve, I sneak out of the dormitory and meet Snape right outside the door as he planned.

The first thing he says to me is, "Are you sure you want to do this? If someone happens to attack, you'll be in danger."

"Am I ever sure about anything, Professor? And I'm in danger all the time, so what's the difference between now and every other minute of every other day?"

He makes a noise, almost as if he understands my reasoning, and the rest of our walk to the entrance hall is taken in silence. We reach the hall and find Remus Lupin standing there, waiting patiently. "Lupin," Snape says curtly.

"Professor Snape. Charlotte."

"The two of you have met?" Snape asks, cutting a glance at me.

"Easter last year, with Sirius," I say. Snape's face becomes dark at the mention of Sirius, and he leaves me standing there with Lupin.

"It's been a while," Lupin comments as we leave the entrance hall and head toward the moving staircase. "Professor Dumbledore tells me Snape has been teaching you Occlumency."

"He has. That's the only reason I was allowed in the Order. I had to master it so Voldemort won't know my true loyalty." Lupin just nods silently. "Well, not master it because I haven't really done that yet, but I'm getting better. Does everyone know it was Snape who has been teaching me?"

"Only a few of us. Do you trust him—Snape?"

I don't even have to think about it before firmly saying, "I do."

"Any particular reason why you trust him?"

"You're the second person to ask me that. The first was Professor McGonagall, and I'm afraid I have to give you the same answer I gave her: I trust him because of what he's done for me. He didn't have to teach me Occlumency, could've very easily said no, and then I wouldn't have been able to join the Order or hide parts of my life from Voldemort and his followers whenever I have to be around them. Without his tutelage, almost everyone I care about would be in danger because of me." I steal a glance at him. "Do you trust him?"

"Dumbledore trusts Snape, and I trust Dumbledore's judgment. Therefore, I trust Snape."

"Is that the only reason you trust him?"

He pauses. "I taught here a few years back, Harry's third year. He brewed the Wolfsbane Potion for me. I'm thankful, but I don't know if I would say I trust him for that." We turn a corner. "I believe it's hard for most people to trust him."

"Why's that?"

"It's no secret that he's quite skilled in Occlumency, and as such, it's hard to know what he's really thinking, who he really supports."

"I've become good at Occlumency. Does that mean no one will trust me?"

"You're different. You came into this war wanting to defeat You-Know-Who. In the last war, Snape was a Death Eater. It leaves people wary of trusting him."

That makes sense, of course, but for some reason it makes me pity Snape. He's done so much to prove himself, and people still question his loyalties. We're silent while we patrol the fifth floor, and it's not until we reach the sixth floor that we see any of the other Order members patrolling the castle this evening. A large smile comes to my face when I realize who it is. The moment Fred recognizes me, he leaves his mother behind and rushes toward me, taking me into his arms and lifting me off the floor. "It's so good to see you again," he says when he finally releases me.

"You too," I say, now very aware of Mrs. Weasley and Lupin who are beside us.

Fred seems to notice too, for he clears his throat and looks over at them. "Would it be too much to ask for a change in partners?"

Lupin smiles. "I don't see anything wrong with that. Do you, Molly?"

"As long as Fred promises not to distract her."

"I would never do such a thing!" Fred exclaims, falsely appalled by the very idea.

"Stay out of trouble."

"We're patrolling for trouble, Mum, so I can't really give my word on that."

I quickly hug Mrs. Weasley and whisper a thank-you to her before Fred takes me by the hand and leads me in the direction he and his mother had been going just a few moments ago. "So tell me everything you've excluded in your letters," he says.

"There's not much I left out. At least I don't think there is." He smiles at me, then stops us and pulls me in for a quick kiss. "You're not supposed to be distracting me."

"My apologies."

"You're not sorry."

"No, I'm not."

"The shop's still going well then?"

"Of course."

"And you're sure you won't be too jealous of Zabini for taking me to the Slug Club thing?" I quip.

"I can't promise not to be jealous, but I'll get over it."

"I think I might borrow one of Zoe's dresses."

"Accrington? You still keep in touch with her?"

"Yeah, we write each other. She's living in Hogsmeade now, working at the Three Broomsticks. She wants to eventually open a pub and inn like the Leaky Cauldron."

He nods. "Good for her. I wish her the best of luck. But enough about her, I want to know how you're doing." Fred releases my hand and puts his arm around my shoulders. I lean into his side. "How're you handling everything? You know, classes, your mother, being forced to join the Death Eaters?"

I need to stop lying to him.

"It's taxing, I won't lie, but I have a good support system."

Fred and I spend the next three hours roaming—er, patrolling—the castle, happy to finally have time together to speak in person.

When our shift ends and we, as well as Mrs. Weasley and Lupin, are replaced by other members of the Order, I shuffle down to the Slytherin Dungeon and climb into my bed, expecting to stay there until my classes on Friday.

Unfortunately for me, I am awoken by a loud and obnoxious Pansy Parkinson bright and early. "Only a two more weeks until the holidays!"

I roughly jerk the pillow out from under my head and slam it over my face.

"I just feel bad for those who don't have a family to go home to!"

Then her annoyingly perky voice leaves the room. Just the sound of Pansy awakens this beast in my chest, a beast that wants to make her hurt. I don't why—it's just there.

Knowing very well that I shouldn't, I open my trunk and pull out the vial of Euphoria-Inducing Elixir that Snape made for me. I unstop it and take a tiny bit of it. My anger immediately fades, and my frustrations begin to release their grip on my chest. Maybe I should keep this for myself. Draco will never know . . .

No, I can't do that. He needs it more than I do.

I lie back down and plead for sleep to return.

When I arrive in the common room the next morning, Friday morning, I find Draco standing with the four first-years. "I feel like you're plotting something against me," I say to them.

"We were just wondering if you were ever going to come down—or if you were even alive since none of us saw even a glimpse of you yesterday. We're starving, so let's get going," Christopher says.

"Where are the others?"

"They left already. They said they couldn't wait any longer, and they didn't even believe you would join us anyway," Christopher says. "Now come on."

Confused but not wanting to say anything, I fall into the group as we make our way to the Great Hall. I glance at Draco. "Since when do you hang out with them?" I whisper.

"Since I realized that there is something to be admired about their innocence."

I catch his eyes. It looks as if he has not slept in days: dark circles under his eyes mar his face, his skin is paler than ever, he's lost weight. He looks ill. I reach into my robes and pull out the potion Snape gave me. "I got this for you," I say, "but I'm going to keep it to make sure you don't overuse it. Sound good?"

"What is it?"

"An Elixir to Induce Euphoria. It looks like you could use some happiness in your life. I wasn't going to tell you about it, but I think it's necessary."

"I don't deserve it. You should keep it . . . for when . . . you know . . ."

I give him a gloomy smile. "You need it just as much as I do, Draco. Don't deny it."

"We'll share it?" he offers.

I grab his upper arm. "If you need anything, Draco, please come to me. I know what you're going through. I can help you."

"I don't need—"

"Not with your task," I say calmly. "But rather living with this weight on your shoulders."

His face drops, and he looks to the floor as we approach the Great Hall. "How do you do it, Charlotte?" he whispers.

"Do what?"

"How do you remain human?"

"With a lot of effort."

"Why are the two of you whispering to each other?" Ella asks. The four of them have gotten a few paces ahead of us.

"Because we don't want your prying ears to hear us!" I call up to her. When we get to the Great Hall, Draco breaks off from our tiny group and goes to sit with Crabbe and Goyle. I remain with the other four as we go over to Astoria, Daphne, and Grant.

"Were you not feeling well yesterday?" Grant asks between mouthfuls of toast.

"Yeah, I was sleeping it off. Feeling much better now though." I load up my plate with food and begin eating.

"Got any plans for Christmas?" Christopher asks no one in particular.

"Yeah," Jacob says. "I'm going home."

"I'll probably stay here," I answer vaguely, deep down silently hoping that's not true because I want to spend the holiday with my mother. Which is dangerous because I'm weak and well-aware of it, especially when it comes to her. Snape was right, of course; she'll influence me too severely. Besides, spending weeks with no one but her will only make it worse for me when I have to betray her and turn against Voldemort. And I don't want that.

But I still so desperately want to go with her for the holidays.

And if I'm being honest with myself, I know exactly why: I want a good relationship with her. And I can picture us enjoying Christmas—I can actually spend Christmas with my mother. The thought gives me hope though I know it shouldn't.

"You should come with me," Christopher says. "I've told my mum about how you've been tutoring us. I'm sure she wouldn't mind you staying with us."

I smile at him. This kid is becoming my favorite more and more each day. "As much as I'd love to—and believe me, I'd love to leave Hogwarts every now and then—I can't. I have to do some things for the professors."

"What kind of things?" Julia asks.

"Detention," I say with a wink.

"How do you do something so horrible that they give you detention over the Christmas holiday?" Ella asks.

"I don't do homework," I say swiftly.

"For who?" Daphne asks, the look in her eye convincing me that she knows I'm lying. "We do homework all the time together."

For a moment, I think about saying McGonagall, but she teaches the same subject that I'm trying to tutor the four first-years in. If I say I don't do homework for her, they might drop the desire to do well in Transfiguration. "Snape. I've not written a single essay that he has assigned."

She narrows her eyes at me but doesn't say anything else, instead letting the first-years lead the investigation.

"Why didn't you do homework for him?" Jacob asks

"Strictly out of spite."

"Spite?" Ella's eyebrows are raised scandalously, as if my disliking a professor is the worst thing imaginable.

"Snape and I don't get along." I smile at them. "I spat on him once." They give a collective gasp. "It's a really long story. And listen here, it doesn't matter what anyone says, Snape keeps control of his temper quite well, but he can get nasty."

"As nasty as his hair?" Jacob laughs.

Though unsure why this irritates me so deeply, I make no comment and instead laugh along and say, "Nastier! Never push your limits with him. Fair warning."

Christopher grins. "Tell us about when you spat on him."

"Do I have time?"

They all nod.

"All right, so last year I was taking Remedial Potions with him—"

"Remedial Potions?" Jacob laughs. "You can't be serious!"

"I hate Potions. Anyways, we were shouting at each other—we do that a lot—when suddenly the cauldron started spewing out some sort of—"

The delivery owls cut my lie short, and I'm almost grateful. A letter lands on the plate in front of me, and I waste no time opening it.

Aurelia,

I've worked some things out and have put things into place. I know Draco will not be done before the Christmas holidays. That is obvious to all of us waiting back home, even the Dark Lord. And he is becoming impatient. I do not want you to fear your duty any more than you already do. You are not required to come back to manor for the holiday.

But I don't want you to be trapped at Hogwarts. I want to spend this holiday with you, and the Dark Lord has granted permission. When the Hogwarts Express leaves the castle, I want you on it. Tell Snape you'll be at the manor. Do not get off the train. I want you to Apparate to the manor, to my room. I will be waiting for you. Then I will take you somewhere else, where we will remain.

Again, I implore you to burn this letter when you finish with it. I do not want you in danger because of my inability to remain distant from you.

Your mother

I stare blankly at the last phrase: my inability to remain distant from you. Bellatrix struggles with this as well, and an odd feeling of joy rises in my chest. Then the rest of the letter registers with me. I will be spending the holidays with my mother.

Despite having wanted this so desperately, I'm suddenly fearful. If I'm already reveling in the fact that she's struggling to stay away from me as much as I'm struggling to stay away from her, then I know I can't let myself continue to grow more and more attached to her. I need to keep my distance in order to lessen the risk of falling into this Death Eater nonsense.

"I'm sorry," I say to the group as I stand up, "I'll have to finish that story later."

"Everything all right?" Daphne asks.

"Yeah, just, I haven't heard from this friend in a long time, and I need somewhere quiet to read her letter. Her mother died, and I need to formulate a response by myself."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Daphne says. Then she diverts the group's attention from me by starting a story of her own.

As I make my exit from the Great Hall, I glance back at the staff table, willing Snape to see me. Surprisingly, he does, though I guess it shouldn't be too much of a surprise since very few other students are exiting right now and the staff table allows for the perfect view of the door. I make a show of putting the letter into my robe pocket, hoping he'll recognize that there's something important about it. Then I make my way down to his office. We know each other well enough by now, I think, that he'll register my meaning and leave breakfast.

A few minutes of waiting by Snape's office door proves me right. He turns the corner and seems to walk faster when he spies me. "What's happened?" I hand over the letter without a single word and follow him silently into his office. He mutters angrily to himself, then seems to re-read the letter a couple more times before handing it back to me. "Do burn that, will you?" I obey. "I believe I might be able to get you out of it," he informs me, closing his office door behind me. Are we going to start this again?

"I don't think you can get me out of this if he's consented."

"You can't go with her. You're tempted enough by her as it is. It'll only worsen if you spend weeks alone with her, and if you leave the castle for the holidays, we'll have to take a break from your Occlumency lessons. You've gotten better since your test with Professor Dumbledore, but I don't suggest taking weeks off practicing."

"You think I don't know that?" Snape and I watch each other silently. I might let something slip if I don't keep practicing Occlumency. I can't risk Voldemort finding out what I've done. The thought of Voldemort finding out the truth about everything I'm hiding suddenly grips my heart with an intense fear—I don't want to lose everything, and I certainly don't want to be tortured because he found out the truth. My breathing quickens. Bellatrix is a threat to me specifically because I'll want to please her. I'll fall into her beliefs fail at all of the Occlumency I've been practicing for so many months. I can't go see her, this was such a stupid mistake, why did I ever think I could handle it? "If I found myself in St. Mungo's, I wouldn't be able to go, would I?" I don't want all of my hard work to be negated because I fall under Bellatrix's spell.

"You're not—"

"You have plenty of potions I could 'steal' and take, right?"

"No—"

"Or the necklace! The cursed necklace! Let me touch it!"

"You—"

"Katie survived, and so can I, it'll be fine—"

"Charlotte—"

"And then I can get out this holiday! But the question is, do I really want to? Do I want to squander this one—"

"Charlotte!"

I flinch and come back to the present. "Professor?"

"I will not willingly let you put yourself in St. Mungo's."

I take the seat in front of his desk and sigh, my senses returning. Of course I can do this. I can handle being around Bellatrix without losing myself entirely, right? I can do this. I can have a relationship with her. "Yeah, that's probably not the best idea. You could get fired—or worse, tortured by the Dark Lord for failing—"

"That's not the biggest issue with your plan. You might not wake up from a poison. You might not recover from the cursed necklace."

"So what do you suggest? How else can I be sure not to lose everything I've learnt? How else can I be sure not to let her—not to fall into—" I just stop and shake my head. I can do this. I want to do this.

He's silent again until a few moments later when an idea strikes him. "Polyjuice Potion! Someone could take your place, and you could take theirs."

"The only people who know the truth are you and Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore. That won't work. Or Draco, I guess, but that'll be obvious."

He looks disgusted with himself before uncomfortably saying, "We could switch places."

"For weeks?" I laugh.

"I won't have you be corrupted by your mother."

How do I explain to him that I actually want a relationship with her without making it seem like I want to join her on the Dark Lord's side? And how can I be sure I won't fail at Occlumency if I spend that much time away from it? And how can I be sure that I can remain loyal to myself when I'm with Bellatrix, constantly bombarded by her beliefs and desires for me to be the daughter I'm supposed to be—a daughter loyal to and willing to serve Voldemort? "But our switching places wouldn't work, and you know it." Not to mention how incredibly awkward that would make any conversation after the fact.

Silence falls on us again.

How am I supposed to explain to him that part of me wants to go? He'd never forgive me if I tried explaining that I want to spend some time with my mother. He would most likely never trust me again, and we've come too far for that now. But if he finds out that I do want to be with my mother, and he finds out without me telling him, that'll only make things worse.

So tell him.

I clear my throat. "What if . . . what if I—what if I swore not to be influenced by her?"

He looks skeptical. "That's not something you can ensure. It's much too easy to be influenced by those around you. And she'll be the only one around you."

"But only for this one holiday."

"Which, if we're not careful, will turn into a normal thing. She'll have you spending every holiday with her, and before we realize, you'll be a willing Death Eater."

"I won't—"

"I've been there, Charlotte, you fall into that far easier than you can imagine."

He has a point, and I take a short breath, conceding that fact. "What if . . . what if I told you that part of me wants to go on this holiday with her?"

His face becomes deadly serious. "What?"

"She's my mother. What if I want to have a relationship with her?"

"Then we've already lost you."

"But you know from our Veritaserum lessons that I'd rather make you and McGonagall proud of me than have a good relationship with Bellatrix! I just . . . I have a chance to have a relationship with someone I thought I lost forever, and I don't want to miss this opportunity. Would you?"

Snape's argument dies on his lips, and he watches me sadly. "I don't believe I would."

"Then how can you expect me to?"

"Because I need you to be stronger than I was."

My chest burns. "That's not possible."

"If you're going to spend Christmas with your mother, you must be. You must remember that there are people who care for you here at Hogwarts, people who will still be here when you return. You must remember the Weasleys who all care for you. Charlotte, you must be stronger than I was when I was your age—you cannot let the darkness of those around you influence you to join them, because doing so will, without a doubt, ruin your life."

"But—"

"And I don't know if I could forgive myself for allowing you to go with Bellatrix and be influenced by her to join the Dark Lord, if you lose yourself to him as I did."

I look down at my hands. "I won't." I force myself to meet his eyes. "I'll make sure of it. I'll keep everyone here at Hogwarts in mind, I'll keep the Weasleys and Zoe and Tonks and you in mind. I won't let her influence me."

He doesn't look convinced. I'm not even sure if I'm convinced.