CHAPTER 42

"I've often wondered why I'm not on a Chocolate Frog card," Bellatrix says to me as we open our tenth Chocolate Frog in the past five minutes. "After all, I believe myself to be the most proficient witch of the age in the use the Cruciatus Curse." She meets my gaze. "I think I deserve one."

I think the elixir is affecting her more than it is affecting me, but that's not her fault because I spiked her bottle more than mine. I don't regret it—she's been relatively nice and almost happy since the potion kicked in. "I'm not so sure," I say. "For my age, I believe I'm pretty proficient in the art of casting the Cruciatus Curse. I might even surpass you someday."

She eyes me. "Successfully using that curse against me once does not make you proficient."

"I'm not speaking about when I Cruciated you. Do you know who Dolores Umbridge is—works in the Ministry, was placed inside Hogwarts last year, annoying voice, loves all things pink, made me use the Blood Quill?" She nods. "I believe I told you about a few of my disagreements with her." I immediately regret saying this because the only one Bellatrix knows about is when I helped the Weasleys get out of Hogwarts. This doesn't seem to register with her though, so I push on, "I Cruciated her after she . . . well, after she pissed me off."

Something akin to pride shines in her eyes, but that fades quickly. "You could have been sent to Azkaban! What were you thinking?"

"I charmed her memory," I say with a shrug. "It wasn't that hard. I've been perfecting memory charms since I was on the run. I mean, I had to learn how to protect myself if someone managed to see me. I couldn't risk the Ministry finding me." And I couldn't risk having to kill someone if something happened and I was caught by Muggles, but that's not worth saying to her because why should she care if Muggles were killed or not?

Bellatrix looks impressed. "What did she do exactly?"

I can't very well tell my mother that my attack on Umbridge was to avenge Minerva McGonagall, the Gryffindor Head of House, someone she seems to hate. That will set us back quite a bit, which is far less than ideal right now because we've made enough so much progress that I refuse to lose right now. So instead of telling her what actually happened, I say, "She was just Dolores Umbridge. She tortured students in detention—myself included." I show her the faint white scar on the back of my hand. "She just . . . I don't know what happened, but I remember something setting me off and I couldn't stop myself. It's over now though."

"Seeing as you've punished her yourself, I will not need to kill her the next time I see her."

"Yeah, it's probably best that you not kill her. Unfortunately."

She seems tempted to grin but fights it down. "However, since she doesn't remember it, does your revenge truly count?"

"It's good enough for me, because I remember it and can replay it over and over." That's not something I ever actually do because it reminds me of just how easily I slip into being just like my mother. And while I enjoy building a relationship with her, I don't want to be like her. I grab another Chocolate Frog. "Are you going to catch this one?"

She nods.

"You said that last time too, and the frog ended up in the fire."

Bellatrix frowns good-naturedly. "Just open it."

I obey and rip the package open. The little frog hops into the air, and my mother's hand slashes through the air to grab it but misses it by just a hair, giving it just enough time to leap off her wrist and bound toward my forehead. I make a startled noise and topple backward, trying to get away from it, Bellatrix's laughter causing me to giggle, surprisingly happy, as the frog hops away and disappears under the armchair. "I thought you said you would catch it!"

"My perception is a bit off," she admits. "Probably because of the firewhiskey you've been forcing me to drink."

"I've been 'forcing you to drink'? Well, all right then, I'll take it—"

She swats my hand away from her bottle. "You might be my daughter, but I won't hesitate remove your hand from your arm if you attempt that again."

I raise my hands in submission. "Very well." I watch her, amused, as she takes a few more gulps of the firewhiskey. "You know, I wasn't sure if I wanted to spend the holiday with you, but I'm glad I did."

My mother reaches over and takes my hand. "If I could, I would go back and find a way to spend every holiday with you, just take all of those years I spent in Azkaban and give them to you." I squeeze her hand. "I wish I could have spent every Christmas with you, eating Chocolate Frogs and drinking—well, probably not firewhiskey when you were younger—but something." She averts her eyes from mine. "If Potter boy hadn't . . . well, we don't really know what he did, do we?" Bellatrix grabs the bottle from my hands and finishes it off. "I've got something for you." She grabs her wand.

My throat burns, and when she diverts her attention from me, I wipe my eyes to stop the tears from escaping. This is all I ever wanted—spending time with my mother, having a mother, building a relationship with my mother. I missed out on so much because of Voldemort. And now I have the chance to get it back.

All I have to do is just not fight Voldemort as much as I want to.

And I almost think it's worth it.

A small box flies into the sitting room with us. "I've kept this for a very long time," she says. "Well, not on my person of course, being in Azkaban, but it's been in my vault at Gringotts." She hands me a box that fits perfectly in my palm. "I want you to have it. Years ago, I planned to give it to you when you turned seventeen . . ." She looks at the box like it's something foreign to her. "I thought I lost that chance. Yet here you are." She almost smiles at me. "Open it."

I gingerly open the wrappings around the box, placing the trash to the side, then take the top off the box. Inside sits a silver ring with a large marquis-shaped emerald (again with my family being obsessed with the green). A layer of tiny diamonds surrounds the emerald. "Being the eldest daughter to my mother, she gave it to me when I turned seventeen, as her mother had done for her, and hers before that, and hers before that." She takes the ring and slides it onto my finger. "You're my daughter, and it's time for you to have it."

A tear slips down my cheek.

"I would've given it to Narcissa, but she only has Draco. Until you were discovered, I was planning on giving it to whomever he married. Andromeda's daughter was never considered, not after how her mother disgraced the Black name." She looks away. "Narcissa and I lost a sister the day that she married that filthy Mudblood." Her eyes meet mine again. "But I see the silver lining now. I have the chance to give it to you." She reaches out and touches my cheek. "It's yours. Maybe one day you'll be able to give it to your daughter."

Words fail me, and I simply wrap my arms around her. "I wish I had something to give you," I whisper.

"You don't have to give me anything." I don't know how long we sit there in each other's arms. It could very well be a few hours.

I'm leaving the Lestrange Cottage today, which means I'm also leaving the presence of my mother. And I can, without any doubt, say that I don't want to leave. I want to stay here with Bellatrix for as long as I can. What's at Hogwarts for me anyway?

The first-years.

Your friends.

McGonagall.

Snape.

I sigh. I still don't want to leave, no matter how many people I have back at school. Maybe if I told Bellatrix that I want to stay with her, she might find a way to get me out of Hogwarts.

No, Charlotte, you can't do that.

That would require lying to too many people, because if anyone found out that the real reason I don't want to return is because I want to be with my mother, the Order and Snape and McGonagall and Dumbledore and all the others who know the truth about me will never trust me again. If they knew that I wanted to stay with Bellatrix, the Death Eater who violently shoved the Longbottoms into insanity, the Death Eater who spent years in Azkaban because she refused to give up hope on her Dark Lord, the Death Eater who just recently murdered Sirius . . .

"Are your things packed?" I turn to see Bellatrix in the doorway.

"Yeah. Yeah, they're packed." I pick up my rucksack and sling it onto my shoulder.

We Disapparate to Bellatrix's room in Malfoy Manor. "I think it's best if no one knows about these two weeks," she says. "The Dark Lord gave me permission to take you there, but if he learns . . . I don't want you punished because of me."

I nod. "I won't speak a word of it."

She puts her hands on my shoulders. "I don't know what Draco is trying to do to accomplish his task. He hasn't told me." Is that frustration in her voice? "But if you find out, I must ask you again not to tell Snape. This is Draco's time to prove himself worthy, to get the glory that he deserves, to restore the Malfoy name. Snape, as I've already told you, thinks only of himself. If he sees this as a chance to make himself look better to the Dark Lord, he will not think twice before doing it."

"And you're still not going to tell me what Draco is to do?"

Her eyes become very serious. "I know you already know. I've spoken with Draco. He's told me that you've been doing your best to help him. You must keep this to yourself as well." I nod, and she takes me into her arms. "Watch yourself. Trust no one except Draco. He's the only person at Hogwarts you can trust. I won't see you again until the end of the term."

I rest my head on her shoulder and smile to myself, trying to enjoy this time with her while I can before having to leave and go back to Hogwarts without her. "I'll see you then," I say. She moves as if trying to let go of me, but I tighten my hold on her, not willing to release her just yet, so she puts her arms back around me. "I enjoyed our time together." She rubs my back. "I just kind of wish it lasted longer."

"I know."

I finally bring myself to release her and move away from her.

"Goodbye, Aurelia."

"Goodbye, Mum." Bellatrix smiles at me, then bends to kiss my forehead.

I take a handful of Floo Powder, climb into my mother's private fireplace, and say, "Severus Snape's office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" Green flames consume me, then deposit me in Snape's office. I glance back at the fireplace. "Why didn't you let me leave this way?"

He grimaces at me but does not answer the question. "Evening," he says vaguely. "Have a good holiday?"

"In fact, I did." I make my way to the door but am unable to open it. "Don't do this again, Professor, please."

"We've lost you to your mother, haven't we?"

"Who is this 'we' you speak of?"

"Charlotte."

I turn back to him and lean against the door. "I haven't been lost to her. I just . . . enjoyed my time with her. She's my mother, you know. I had fun."

"First and foremost she is a Death Eater, Charlotte. She cannot be trusted."

"You're a Death Eater. Are you implying you can't be trusted?" I watch him closely, knowing how sick of this argument he must be. "Bellatrix still hates you, by the way." He smirks, and this time when I reach for the door, it does not stop me.

I make my way through the castle, easily avoiding everyone because almost all of the students are still gone and won't be returning until later today.

So I find my way to McGonagall's office door and knock, opening it only when she calls out for me to enter. "You're alive," she says, sounding too relieved for my liking. Did she really think my own mother would kill me?

What kind of question is that? Of course that's a pretty reasonable fear.

"Did she hurt you?"

I shake my head and take a seat across from her. "Not at all. In fact, she was happy to spend time with me. Thrilled, actually, to be able to finally spend time with her daughter. She was civil."

"Bellatrix Lestrange? Civil?"

"Yeah, we only argued once or twice. She was just happy I was there with her."

"At the manor? Was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named there?"

"We weren't at the manor. We went to a cottage my parents had intended to raise me in. It's under the protection of the Fidelius Charm. I don't know who the Secret-Keeper is—she just gave me a note with the location on it. It was . . . weird, to say the least, but it wasn't as horrible as it sounds like it could be. She was nice to me."

"And she didn't harm you?"

"No, we just talked and ate and drank by the fire. Oh, and she gave this to me." I slide off my finger and hand it to the professor. "It's been passed down from mother to daughter for . . . four—five generations, I believe. Six now, actually. She kept it in her vault at Gringotts. She had always planned on giving it to me . . . but, you know—I was thought to be dead."

"And she kept it all this time?"

"She told me that she would have given it to Narcissa, but Draco was her only child, and he isn't married yet. She figured she'd give it to his wife. But then they found me . . . She would have given it to Andromeda to give to Tonks had she not married a Muggle-born."

McGonagall hands the ring back to me. I remove the silver amulet Dumbledore gave me and slide the ring onto the chain. No one else needs to know about the ring. It's between Bellatrix, me, and now McGonagall, though Bellatrix will never know that McGonagall knows. It would be a huge mistake if she found out. "When did you get that?" she asks. I glance up to see her looking at the silver amulet.

"Professor Dumbledore gave it to me after I joined the Order." I place it on the desk, then wave my wand at it to turn it into a chess table once again. I give McGonagall a quick explanation of what had transpired between me and Dumbledore (leaving out Harry being a pawn, Dumbledore being a queen, and there being a queen set up to take over if something happens to Dumbledore). So basically, I tell her about how I was Voldemort's pawn and was made into the Order's pawn. "It's nothing special really," I finish. "It's so I know what side I'm truly with. It's so if I begin to waver, I'll remember that I'm fighting for the good of the wizarding world, not Voldemort's pureblood supremacist ideals." Then I change it back into an amulet and slip it over my head. The ring and the necklace clink together as I hide them under my robe.

"Anyways," I continue, "Bellatrix spent most of her time trying to convince me that what I have to do is an honor. I understand that it's an honor, but—"

"What do you mean you 'understand that it's an honor'? I thought you were firmly against it."

"I am against it, but out of the millions of witches there are, he chose me. I get that it's an honor, but I know that it's more of a curse. So the honor thing is trumped by the curse, but still . . . I get how it's an honor." She still seems tense, and I sigh. "I didn't mean it like that, Professor. What I meant was that I understand why Bellatrix wants me to see it as an honor. He chose me out of everyone there is. But I would never serve him willingly. I will never serve him willingly."

Her fireplace erupts in green flames. McGonagall glances over. "Evening, Potter. Try not to get too much ash on the carpet."

"No, Professor."

Ron and Ginny both emerge after him, and they all scramble out of her office. "I think I should go now," I say.

She gives me a surprised look.

"Professor Snape wanted to speak with me," I say.

She nods, and I leave quickly, but rather than going to Snape's office, I go to the Slytherin Dungeon, hoping to find Draco—luckily, he's sitting at one of the tables writing. I go over and take a seat next to him. "Draco."

He looks at me and smiles. "Charlotte," he greets me. "How were your holidays?"

My voice is thick and quiet when I whisper, "Voldemort-free, thanks to you."

"I'm glad I could help. If there's any way I can help you, tell me."

The only way he can help me is to stop trying to kill Dumbledore, but I can't very well ask him to do that for me. He'll be killed, and as much as the idea of Dumbledore dying pains me, the idea of Draco dying is even worse.

I slide the rucksack off my back and dig two bottles out of it. "Have a drink with me?" I ask. I pop both of the bottles open, then pour what's left of the Elixir to Induce Euphoria into each of them. I hand him one of the bottles. "I don't care if you're not seventeen yet." Together, we drink our bottles of Firewhiskey that were left over from my holiday with my mother.

We sit there in solemn silence until the rest of my friends arrive, at which point Draco leaves me there listening to stories from their Christmas holidays, quietly planning everything I want to tell Zoe in my next letter to her. Bellatrix told me so much that only Zoe will truly appreciate it, and while part of me wishes I could tell her in person, that's not an option until the next Hogsmeade weekend, which is too long of a wait for me. So a letter it is.

I should also write Fred and let him know that I'm alive and well, that Bellatrix didn't harm me.

It's later than I planned when my friends and I finally disperse to go to sleep. I couldn't share with them anything about my holiday—I was supposed to be here at Hogwarts, and it's best if they don't know how many lies I've told them.

When I come down the stairs that next morning, a large crowd surrounds the notice board. "Apparition lessons!" Pansy giggles. "We get to learn how to Apparate!" I quietly snigger at her. She turns to leave the board but sees me and stops, looking back at her friends to say, "I feel bad for the poor people, you know—the homeless—who can't afford the twelve Galleon cost." Her eyes bear into me, an evil smile spreading across her face as she and her friends walk off. If only she knew that the entire Lestrange family fortune is basically at my disposal . . .

Draco walks up to me. "Are you planning to take the lessons?" he asks.

"Probably. It'll make me look normal if I do."

"What?" A smile breaks across his face when he realizes. "Right, I forgot. You already know how, don't you?"

I smile. "Yeah, for years now."

He shakes his head. "Sometimes I think it might be worth living out of the reach of the Ministry. You've always been able to do whatever you want with magic. The Ministry has no record of you, do they? They believe Bellatrix's daughter is dead." I nod, not really sure I want to get into this conversation with him right now, all things considered. "Totally worth it. Free use of magic, Apparating before the legal age, teaching yourself whatever you feel like . . ."

"It has its advantages, but it also has its disadvantages. If I were to be found dead, no one would even know who I am."

"I would," he says quietly. "And I'd make sure they knew who you were."

I smile. "That's good to know, but back when I was on the run, no one knew I existed. So I guess it wouldn't be too bad had something happened to me. No one would have missed me. No one would have known who I was. I would forever have been a deceased Jane Doe."

"Let's get off the depressing subject of your death. Do you have the Galleons to pay for the lessons? If not, I'm sure I can lend you some."

"That's not necessary, I don't think," I say. "I'll just owl my mum and ask for some Galleons. I'm sure she'll send me some if she thinks it will help keep up my appearance as 'Charlotte Rodgers,' which in turn will keep me safe. She's all about my safety these days, haven't you heard?"

Draco smiles. "Of course I've heard. Whenever she gets the chance, she tells me to keep an eye on you and make sure you're not—"

"You don't really inform on me to her, do you?"

"Of course not. I wouldn't betray your trust like that." His eyes drift to something behind me. "I think a few first-years want to speak with you."

I turn around, and Christopher and the others are all staring at me, patiently waiting for me to finish talking to Draco. "I'll see you later, then," I say to him. The first-years and I meet up with Astoria, Daphne, and Grant, and together we all make our way to the Great Hall for breakfast.