CHAPTER 2

January carries on at the slowest possible pace for the next two weeks, two weeks in which there is not a single chance to speak to Severus because he has not made an appearance at meals nor have I dared approach the Headmaster's Tower in fear that another student or professor will see me, ambush me, and try to interrogate me about my reasoning for visiting the coldblooded murderer who now lives in the tower. And that's the last thing I want to deal with right now, so it's been two weeks of misery as I learn (again) just how dependent I have become on Severus's company. At least this time our separation is not because of a disagreement between us as it was last time; anything is better than that because there is a deadline for when I will no longer be kept away from him—when I have to go back to the manor for my first trip this month.

While walking with Daphne to Transfiguration, Neville whispers quietly as he passes me, "Meet me and Ginny in the Astronomy Tower after dinner," he whispers. Daphne doesn't hear but certainly notices the change in my expression that comes to fast for me to hide. They can only really want to meet because of Luna, and if they believe she is suffering in Azkaban, I will have no choice but to tell them the truth. No one should have to live with the pain of knowing a friend is in Azkaban.

Does my father think about me while he's there? Does that bring dementors to him more frequently?

I'm unable to focus on McGonagall's lesson over Human Transfiguration due to the thoughts of my dad sitting in the corner of his cell being tormented by the hooded monsters. Because of me.

For the rest of the day, those images come and go and refuse to allow me to focus on any of my classes. It's almost a relief when dinnertime arrives because it means that soon there will be a nice distraction that can possibly dispel thoughts of Rodolphus's never-ending suffering because of my poor decision-making.

I step into the Great Hall and nearly cry tears of joy when I see Severus sitting at the staff table. Just seeing him sends confidence through me, and I find myself standing up straighter, walking with more pep. For a half-second, we make eye contact, but I wait until I'm looking away before smiling widely, hoping he knows how happy I am to see him without risking others seeing my reaction to his presence because that would absolutely be too difficult to try to explain. Why would anyone be happy to see Severus Snape?

Astoria, Daphne, and I take seats not far from the second-years but far enough that they have their own space. Christopher looks over at me and doesn't frown immediately, which must be a good sign because that's the first time in two weeks that he's made any kind of eye contact with me. He turns his attention back to the second-years, and I turn back to the Greengrass sisters.

"Did I tell you McGonagall gave us a ten-inch essay on Human Transfiguration?" Astoria sighs while loading her plate down with food. "Who has the time for that?"

"I'm fairly certain you do," Daphne laughs. "Or do you not have more free time this year than ever before?"

Astoria just shrugs and takes a bite of a chicken leg. "Let me complain."

"What you should be complaining about is the bloody essay Carrow gave us about our oppression," Daphne says. "I can confidently say that as a pureblooded witch who has never had a need or desire to interact with the Muggle world, never once have I felt oppressed by them. I like how we live. Carrow can choke. She's the most-braindead teacher we've ever had. Maybe even worse than Umbridge."

Astoria and I laugh as Daphne continues ranting about how much she hates the Carrow siblings throughout dinner.

I tell the sisters I have to meet Neville—Daphne gives me a curious, slightly annoyed look—and that I will be back in the common room later. Then I leave the Great Hall, dodge into a corner, cast the Disillusionment Charm over myself so no one can see me going up to the Astronomy Tower at this time of day. While part of me had wanted to go speak to Severus about potentially having to tell Neville and Ginny about Luna's predicament, he never would've given permission to do so, making it seem like a safer bet to ask for forgiveness later instead of directly going against his wishes should he say no to my request. He surely half-expects me to tell someone anyway. He knows me well enough by now.

Once safely in the Astronomy Tower, I remove the charm, sit down beside a telescope, and wait patiently while staring over the Hogwarts grounds. My eyes move involuntarily to the entrance door, and a vision of McGonagall being lifted off her feet, her body glowing red, as Umbridge had her goons attack her. I close my eyes against the memory and push it down, briefly wondering what Umbridge is doing these days. Can she die soon?

My lip turns up in a smile before I can stop it. With great effort, I turn my attention over to the Black Lake and think about when Severus rescued me from freezing to death after I fell in, struggling to beleive I ever hated him quite as much as I did.

While unsure just how long I sit waiting for the others to arrive, it feels like a decent amount of time before a voice says, "Good, you're already up here."

I turn to see both Neville and Ginny standing in the doorway. "Evening," I say. "What's this all about?"

"Luna's been taken, as I'm sure you know by now."

"Yeah, I've heard. Rotten business. What about it?"

Each of them drags two of the empty chairs closers and sit across from me. "We figure she's not been taken to Azkaban like everyone believes," Ginny says.

"What makes you think that?"

"What kind of leverage would that be? If she was truly taken because of her father's magazine, it would be far better to keep her close than to send her off. Dangle her in front of her father more, get him to do what they want him to do. If she's in Azkaban, he'd have no hope and would probably not be very cooperative."

"Why does it matter where they're keeping her? She's probably under lock and key if the Dark Lord truly wants to use her as leverage."

"We wanted to try to spring her. The D.A.," Neville says. "We just have to find out where she's at. We were hoping—well, we were hoping you might be able to find out. Snape seems not to hate you. You could figure out where she I, and we—"

"I already know where she is," I interrupt. "She's at Malfoy Manor."

Ginny's brow furrows. "How—"

"Draco and I are still on good terms. He told me."

"And you think you can trust him?" Neville asks.

"He's my cousin and a close friend. He would have no reason to lie about that, especially given that it was a casual conversation when it was brought up."

"Stop lying," Neville says sternly. "You were here at Hogwarts when Luna was taken."

"You're right, I'm sorry, I'm lying. But I know for a fact that she is at Malfoy Manor, but I just can't tell you how I know. My information is good though, and the person who told me is someone I trust with my life who would not lie about this. I know she's there."

They nod. "We believe you," Ginny says, which is good for me because coming up with all of these lies and worry about potentially being caught in a lie that could hurt Severus is one of my very least favorite things about keeping up my cover of Charlotte Rodgers. I would never forgive myself if something happened to Severus because a lie got out of hand and someone found something out that they should never know.

"Then you must know that it'd be impossible for the D.A. to get her. I'm sorry, but Death Eaters are crawling all over that place. We'd get caught before we could do anything to free her, and I don't think they'd be very kind about punishing you for even trying. I'm not sure if you'd even be able to make it out alive. They're not patient with people who try to disrupt the Dark Lord's plans." My body aches suddenly, echoes of the beatings and the torture I've endured for being difficult at the manor.

They're silent for a short moment, each seemingly in their own mind as they debate what I've said, debate the merits of trying to free her anyway. Neville sighs. "Rescuing her now might be off the table, but if anything changes, you have to let us know. If there's a chance at all of helping her, we have to take it." I nod, and he continues, "That's not all we wanted to talk about. Now that the Death Eaters have breached the Hogwarts Express and found resistance when the D.A. began fighting back, the Carrows will likely come down harder on the D.A. They'll try to stop any rebellion against You-Know-Who. I was thinking that it would be a good idea to start using the Room of Requirement for certain things. We need to be more careful."

"It sounds like a plan to me. But there's more to your newfound caution than just Luna's abduction, isn't there?"

The Gryffindors glance at each other, almost as if trying to decide how much they should tell me. I can't say I fully blame them. "I have a bad feeling about Snape," Ginny whispers.

"What do you mean?"

Neville gives me an odd look. "Don't you find it strange that he now shows up for at least two meals a week now when he used to be holed up in his office at all times?"

"I . . . I hadn't noticed he showed up so often." That's a lie. Of course I notice that Severus has involved himself more in the daily routine of Hogwarts. How could I not have noticed? "Has he really been eating with us that much?"

"How have you not noticed?" Ginny asks.

I only hope my face does not turn red. I notice Severus more than I should. Whenever he's in the Great Hall, I'm acutely aware of how far he is from me and all of the secrets shared between us. Of course I've noticed him, but I can't tell them that. If they knew how close Severus and I are, any doubts about my allegiances would resurface, and they would likely decide that I cannot be trusted, that I am too intertwined with Death Eaters, that I'm no better than the rest of the Slytherins and Death Eaters. Questions that would be impossible to answer would rise, and it would ruin everything I've established for myself here at Hogwarts. "I've been focused on some other things."

Ginny watches me closely as Neville says, "We have to change things up."

"And you're sure the Room of Requirement is the answer?"

They nod.

"Then I support you. Just tell me if you need anything, and I'll do my best."

Each day I haven't been able to go to Severus's office because of the Ravenclaws feels like a wasted day even though visiting his office was never a daily thing. I miss him more than I can say and desperately want to spend more time with him, but for the time being, I've been able to push him out of my thoughts.

Being separated from him brings up memories of others I've been separated from against my will—Mrs. Stoico, my father, Zoe.

Now I make my way up to the Owlery to see the only other creature who misses Zoe as much as I do. Milo flies down to me the second I reach the top step and takes a cracker from my outstretched hand. I sit down on the chilly stone and lean my back against the wall, and Milo perches on my knee, allowing me to pet him gently. "Hello there." He hoots back in response. Besides the sketchbooks, he's my last connection with Zoe, and he's my only living connection to her. While Rosmerta should probably count as well, I can't talk as openly with her as I can with Milo, especially because I'm not even sure if she knows that Zoe was killed, and that's a conversation that's best left not for me to have with her. Besides, Milo will never share the secrets I tell him, and sometimes it feels as if he is mourning her as well.

A breeze casts a chill over me. Being in Milo's presence is relaxing, and it's certainly better than being around a bunch of other students in the Slytherin Dungeon right now. I lean my head back against the stone, running my finger across his head.

"I've been searching for you," a voice says, startling me, "and this is the last place I expected to find you."

I glance up to see McGonagall. "Professor?"

She stands a few feet away from me, her eyes shifting from me to Milo. "Rodgers, come with me please."

"Professor?"

"You're not in trouble," she says kindly. "I need to talk to you about some things that have recently been brought to my attention."

"What—what kind of things?" I ask, standing to my feet and watching Milo flutter away. She turns around and starts down the stairs, and I hurry to catch up. "Professor, what kind of things?"

"Things that are best not discussed where others might hear."

That doesn't make this sound like a conversation that will be enjoyable in the slightest.

I watch her as she walks ahead of me down the stairs. Rather than her usual elegance and authority, she walks like she's tired and worn-down. I would ask about it but feel that it probably has something to do with me, and I would rather not know until she actually tells me. And since when does she go hunting for me? I ask her just that.

Her only answer is to glance back at me, and I decide to keep quiet after that as we continue making her way to her office. Once while in the corridor do I look up at her; even her eyes like tired today.

She opens her office door and motions for me to enter ahead of her. My mind races to find anything I might have done recently that might have caused her to be upset with me. One very obvious thing comes to mind: my time with Severus, the fact that I've slept with him multiple times now, that he is a Death Eater I am allowing myself to be close with. But while that is an obvious contender for why she might be upset, there is no way she knows about it, so that feels like an unnecessary fear. Regardless, my palms start sweating, my heart racing, at the thought of having to tell her what I've done. I swallow down my unease and sit down across from her. "What's this about?" I ask, keeping my voice as light as possible.

"Do you think I ignore what the D.A. does around here?"

What? "I . . . don't understand."

"Rodgers, do you think your friends are unaware that you spend a great deal of time talking with me?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Some things have been brought to my attention," she says quietly. "People are worried about you. It's been three weeks since you returned to Hogwarts, and your friends say that you've been very aloof with only a few exceptions. They say sometimes you disappear at night." That's a lie, I haven't been out of the dorm at night since I was ambushed—I haven't risked trying to go see Severus in a while. "Ginny told me that three Ravenclaw boys accused you of working for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Those same Ravenclaw boys saw you coming out of Snape's office. What aren't you telling me?"

"Those lying sons of bitches," I mutter. Whatever happened to keeping quiet about that whole thing?

"What was that?"

"How did you find out about that? The Ravenclaws, I mean."

She doesn't answer me.

"Fine. Yes, I was leaving Snape's office. I go there kind of often, actually. The Dark Lord . . . likes to check in with me through Se-Snape." But I haven't been there since the Ravenclaws ambushed me, so I don't really know why this is an issue right now.

"Is that all?"

"What more do you want?"

"There's something you're not telling me."

Yeah, like I'm sleeping with Severus and sincerely hope to have his child rather than Voldemort's, but that's not something you can just spring on someone, especially not someone like McGonagall who still thinks Severus murdered Dumbledore in cold blood. "Not that I can think of, Professor."

A long moment of silence passes, during which she just watches me with a stern, unconvinced expression.

"Forgive me, but I don't know what you want me to say."

"I want you to be truthful with me."

"And I am being truthful, Professor." No, I'm not.

Her expression saddens, and though it almost makes me tell her everything, I just manage to bite my tongue. "Your friends are worried about you. Longbottom and Weasley, the Greengrass sisters, the second-years who hold you to such a high esteem—they all care about you. We're all worried about you. You might not be able to talk to them about some of the things you experience, but you don't have to keep them to yourself. That can't be easy for you."

I nod the best I can. There are actually very few things I keep to myself nowadays because of Severus. "What is it that you're trying to figure out, Professor?"

She glances at the door and lowers her voice. "Charlotte, are you pregnant?"

I stare at her for a long minute, trying to figure out if she's serious. When she doesn't begin smiling or telling me that she's joking, I can't stop the burst of laughter from escaping me "I don't mean to laugh, Professor," I say. "It's just . . . if I'm pregnant, then it's news to me. I didn't expect you to ask that right now."

She visibly relaxes. "That's good to hear."

"Yeah." I clear my throat. "But . . . there is something you to know, I guess . . . about what will happen when—if—I get pregnant." The patient expression on her face invites me to continue. "He wants a son, and he'll kill my child if it's a girl—but I believe I've already told you that. What I haven't told you—what I just found out recently—is that he wants to make the boy into a horcrux. Do you know what that is?"

She nods, her lips pulled tight.

"But to make my son a horcrux, he'll have to kill someone." I know I shouldn't tell her, should keep this to myself, but that if I tell her this, she won't question why I've been aloof with everyone. As much as I hate myself for this right now, I need them not to watch me so closely because when a chance finally arises to speak to Severus again, no one needs to know I've gone to his office. "And—all things considered—he wants me to be that someone, Professor. The Dark Lord will kill me when my child no longer needs me. He thinks it'd be best if I'm not around when my boy is growing up—I'd probably try to corrupt him or something. So it'll be my life that is taken to make a horcrux." Now that this secret is off my shoulders and she knows, I feel much better and, for a short moment, wonder why I was even worried about telling her in the first place.

But I'm quickly reminded of why I wanted to keep this from her. She is frozen, a distinct pain in her eyes that only serves to make my heart ache more. She doesn't want me to die, has seen too many of her students die because of Voldemort. "You're sure about this? Absolutely certain?" she asks quietly.

I nod. "He told me himself, actually. Bellatrix knows—doesn't care, though. Thinks it'd be a great honor for me to die for the Dark Lord." I sigh. "I shouldn't expect anything else from her but . . ." I just shrug.

McGonagall is silent for a minute, a look in her eye that I can't quite place. When she finally speaks again, she seems to be choosing her words very carefully, her response almost achingly slow. "We will find a way to stop this. You won't have to die."

I smile reluctantly at her. "A lot of people before you have made that promise, but I don't want to put my faith in something that stands very little chance of happening. It'll only hurt worse when it doesn't actually happen, you know? Better to prepare for the worst and all that. I have to prepare myself to die, just in case."

"You believe you will not survive this war?"

"I'm not really sure what to believe, Professor. The only thing I know for sure is that the Dark Lord will absolutely try to kill me if he gets the chance. And with how things are going, he will absolutely get the chance." I look away from her. "There are things that I would love to have happen, but all of them are impossible. I'd like for Zoe to return to me, alive. I'd like to make it out of this thing without the Dark Lord's child." But Severus's child wouldn't be so bad. "I'd like to live a happy life someday. I'd especially like to make it out of this alive." I exhale. "But I know that I can't really have any of that."

"You'll make it out of this alive, Charlotte," McGonagall says. "You'll not have the child of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You'll be happy someday."

"You sound incredibly confident," I whisper, trying desperately to ignore the tightness in my throat.

"Well," she says kindly, "I believe Albus left behind enough for young Mr. Potter to be able to destroy You-Know-Who. You'll be fine."

Harry Potter. Of course it's Harry Potter. Everyone believes he'll solve everything. He'll kill Voldemort, stop the Death Eaters, and restore hope to the Wizarding World. This is sickening. Everyone puts too much faith in Harry. There is only so much that a teenage boy can do, and his saving me from Voldemort seems incredibly unlikely.