CHAPTER 8

I flop onto the sofa beside Severus, fully dressed and ready to go to the manor. Well—not really prepared, just giving the appearance of being prepared. I throw my legs into his lap. He's wearing only his pajamas, not having put any effort into getting ready for the day. And why should he? It's early on a Saturday morning. He rubs his hand against my leg, almost as if he's trying to placate me and calm me down. "Tell me I don't have to go, Severus."

"As much as I would prefer to keep you here—"

"To yourself."

He half-grins but does not deny it. "I cannot. The both of us will be severely punished if you do not show up for your monthly meeting with the Dark Lord."

"Monthly meeting? What a delicate way to put it."

He grimaces. "Just go there and play nice with whatever chaperone is assigned to you, and then power through your meeting with the Dark Lord, and you can be done for another month. It'll be over before you know it."

"Says you. You don't know what it's like." He looks at me with a deep sadness, and I reach forward, grab his hand, and offer him the strongest smile I can manage. "It's fine—just be prepared for me to complain loudly when I return. As long as I get the potion, it's really not terrible."

"I would expect—" He stops and grabs his arm, then sighs heavily. "You're being summoned."

I sit up straight, grab him by the back of the neck, and pull his lips to mine. I slip my tongue into his mouth, smiling at the soft noise of surprise from deep in his throat. Then I pull away and kiss his cheek. "For courage."

"You're courageous enough."

"Ah, flattery," I say.

"You should get going. They don't like to be kept waiting."

He smiles at me, and I Apparate.

I almost breathe a sigh of relief when my eyes land on Narcissa rather than Bellatrix.

But that relief is quickly replaced with a sharp stab of sadness to my heart. Will Narcissa care when I'm dead? Will she mourn me? Something in me snaps, and I rush toward her and throw my arms around her, hiding my face in the crook of his neck and fighting down my sobs. Very gently she pats my back in an attempt to calm me down. Once finally in control of myself once more, I pull away from her and avert my eyes from hers, my cheeks growing warm against my will. "I'm sorry," I croak. "I don't—I don't know what came over me."

She wipes a tear from my cheek and slides her arm through mine. "Come with me." I let her lead me through the manor and to a room that I've never actually seen and quickly discover that it's just an extra guest room. Why do they have so many guest rooms? Why do they need this much room for one family? This is excessive. "No one will look for you here."

Narcissa Conjures up a sofa, and we sit down. Though she takes gently takes my hand into hers, I cannot bring myself to look at her. "Charlotte, has something happened?"

"Besides my mother not caring if—" My voice cracks, and I just shake my head in silence. She gives my hand a squeeze, which finally forces me to give in, pulling my legs beneath me and turning my body toward her. A few more tears slip down my cheeks, and I tighten my hold on her hand. "Narcissa, why—why does Mum—Bellatrix—hate me?"

Her mouth opens, then closes, her eyebrows furrowing. "Why—what do you mean?"

"I know—I know you said that she—she had to convince herself that—that my death is a good thing," I struggle out. "But—I don't understand." A loud sob escapes me, and I pull my leg up so that I can muffle the noise against my knee. "How can she—how can she claim to love me and—and just be fine with—with my death?"

"Oh, Charlotte," she says, her voice thickly coated with sympathy that if she doesn't tone down will absolutely make me cry worse any moment now. My chest aches, my throat burns, and my eyes blur with tears. "Charlotte, no, that's not—she doesn't hate you."

I close my eyes and rest my forehead against my knee. "I—I loved her so—so fucking much and she—she's just fine with this." I take a few deep breaths to pull myself together. "Narcissa, I tried. I tried so hard to make a relationship with her. And she—" I exhale and look away from her again.

"She loves you."

"And yet she's fine with me dying? Would you ever be fine with Draco dying?"

I break again and pull my hand away from her, then bury my face in my hands and bend over my legs to curl myself into as much of a ball as I can right now. She rubs my back soothingly. "Charlotte, you have to calm down."

Trembling, I take the collar of my robes into my mouth and bite down, trying to stop myself. I don't want to break like this in front of Narcissa, don't want to admit any more to her than what I've already done. I want to take back everything I've said and just be angry without being heartbroken.

She slides her arms around me and coaxes me into standing, then leads me to the bed and makes me lie down. I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs while she sits down beside me on the mattress. In a kind motion that breaks my heart more than I'm willing to admit, she brushes some hair out of my face. "Charlotte—"

"I just want my mum to love me as much as I love her," I whisper.

"Shh," she coos. "Shh, Charlotte." Then she surprises me—she actually lays down on the bed beside me and wraps her arms around me. I sob into her while she rubs my back and tries to soothe me.

"I want to hate her."

"No, you don't," she says kindly, running one hand through my hair.

"I want her to hurt like I'm hurting."

"Shh, try to relax."

I do my best to calm myself down, tightening my hold on her and trying to convince myself that everything's going to be all right.

A short while later, Narcissa gently shakes me awake. I hiccough and extract myself from her arms, then wipe the remnants of tears off my face. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

Draco stands beside the bed and offers me a sad smile. Narcissa shoos him away and helps me to my feet. She wipes my cheeks and presses a too-kind kiss to my forehead. "Come on," she says, "he's summoning you."

She puts her arm around my shoulders and leads me from the room. We're headed down the hallway where the room is located when Bellatrix arrives and tries to fall into stride with us. My mother puts her hand on my arm, and something in me—a piece so enraged it would like to see her die—bursts through my chest, compelling me to grab her by the neck and shove her against the wall. "Don't fucking touch me."

"Aurelia—"

"IT'S CHARLOTTE! And I don't want you anywhere near me."

Narcissa's hand closes around mine and pulls me away from my mother. I don't know what expression she gives Bellatrix, but Bellatrix does not follow us as Narcissa leads me to the room. My aunt rubs my back once more before I push the door open and enter.

Voldemort enters before I even make it to the center where I usually take up my stance. "Charlotte," he says, an amused tone in his voice, "have you been comfortable at Hogwarts?" I grimace at him, uncomfortable with the look on his face. "No doubt more comfortable than your dearest father is."

I hang my head, my chest growing tight, tears in my eyes again.

"I do wonder—has your mother been writing you? I granted her the permission to do so if she wanted." I take a shaky breath. "Your silence tells me that she has not been trying to keep in contact with you."

"Please," I whisper. "Please stop."

"Do you feel once more as if you are truly an orphan? I know you've not felt that way in so long. You have more family now than you likely know what to do with. If only they wanted you. And if only those who did want you were not locked away." I hear him take a step closer to me but cannot look up at him. "How are your friends at Hogwarts faring? Are they rebelling like so many other students? Do I need to put an end to a Slytherin rebellion?"

"No," I say quietly. With shaky hands I start to undress myself.

"Eager to get back to Hogwarts? Do you not enjoy your time here at the manor?"

"Not really. Not anymore." I crawl onto the bed. "Can we just—get this over with?"

The Dark Lord approaches me without another word, but with a victorious look in his eyes, and sits down on the bed. I close my eyes and brace myself for the torture.

But it doesn't prepare me for the burning fire poker he rams inside of me, and I scream out, tears of agony, frustration, and sorrow leaking from my eyes and spilling into my hair. He's ripping me open—I can feel it. This is how I will die—this is going to shred me to pieces. My body convulses under his spell, and I lose my voice. Then my breath. My chest tightens, and I can't breathe. I attempt to take a few breaths, but nothing enters my lungs. This is like when I woke Severus but worse because he's not here to help me.

I ball my hands into fists and try to focus only on breathing, on bringing air into my lungs, trying to block out Voldemort, but it's not working. I'm going to suffocate. Black spots sprinkle onto my vision.

I sit up, the fear of not breathing consuming me more than the pain in my core and do the unthinkable: I reach out to Voldemort for help. After everything he's done to me and everything he's doing to me and everything he plans to do to me, I reach out to him for help and grab the sleeve of his robe. "My—my Lord—I can't—I can't breathe."

His red eyes glance up at me as if trying to see whether I'm lying and must immediately see the panic on my face, for he commands, "Give me your wand."

"It—it's in—in my robes—on—on the floor—please."

The pain stops for a brief moment. He aims his wand at me, and everything goes black.

I feel the blood leaking out of me before bothering to open my eyes. My attention is drawn mainly to the pain in my chest. Then, quite like it happened before, I lose my breath, and this time, the forceful attempts to suck in air only result in pain shooting through me from the wound Voldemort has left behind. "Help—help me," I say to no one in particular. Bellatrix appears by my side, and my breathing comes in faster and much more painfully. "Get—get away—get away from me!"

She puts her hand on my shoulders and crawls onto the bed beside me. "Aurelia, you need to breathe. You need to relax." I push her away from me weakly, wailing at the effort, but it is not effective. She puts her hands on either side of my face. "Aurelia—"

"NO! I HATE YOU, STOP TOUCHING ME!" I try to scramble away from her, but the aching in my gut stops me immediately, a whimper of pain breaking its way through my throat. The taste of iron fills my mouth.

"Bella," I hear Voldemort's voice say from the other side of the bed. I glance over to see him watching the two of us. "Send in Narcissa. Stay out."

"My—my Lord—what's—what's wrong—with me?"

He just watches me in silence until the door opens again and in walks Narcissa. "Charlotte?" She comes to my side and puts a soft hand on the side of my face. "Charlotte, what's wrong?"

"I don't—I don't know."

My eyes drift to the Dark Lord who stands to his feet. "Report back to me. Do not let her die." Then he disappears through the door he always comes through.

The door opens, but rather than entering, Bellatrix just stands in the doorway. "Cover her up."

Narcissa looks over her shoulder at her sister, then brings the blankets around me. Bellatrix turns to someone, and Severus himself enters the room, a vial in his hand. I almost start crying at the sight of him—he's come to help me. He presses the vial to my lips, and I drink it happily, clasping his hands in mine for a moment while the potion work its way through my system. "Get out, Snape," Bellatrix commands from the doorway. "Wait in the drawing room."

He offers me a small smile, then leaves the room.

Once he's out of the room, Narcissa helps me stand and wraps my Hogwarts robes around me and hands me the rest of my clothes. Neither of us wants to deal the struggle of putting everything back on. Then she pulls my arm around her shoulder and wraps one of hers around my waist and starts helping me out of the room. I whimper quietly at the pressure in my core, and she whispers soft encouragements to me.

Bellatrix stands in the doorway still and reaches out to me as I pass, but I jerk away from her, a whine of pain escaping me. "Don't touch me."

"Aurelia—"

"Charlotte."

"—let me help you."

"Help me?" I hiss. "What have you ever done to—" I stop and press my hand into my stomach.

"Please just—"

Grunting through the pain and effort, I pull away from Narcissa and push Bellatrix against the wall, my hand on her neck, a pained moan spilling from me. "Listen to me, Bellatrix," I say in a low growl. "This is all your fault."

"What—"

"You've Cruciated me, and you've hurt me repeatedly, and yet I still let myself love you because deep down I knew—I knew—that you were right, that the Dark Lord would have tortured us both if you chose me over him." Frustrated tears start down my cheeks. "I let you into my life, and you've betrayed me, and I still forgave you." I swallow down the tightness in my throat and let myself feel the pain in my core for just a moment. Iron once against fills my mouth. "I always forgive you, but now—" I shake my head at her and breathe quietly through the pain, then wipe away the tears on my cheeks.

"I can't breathe because I'm panicking, and I'm panicking now because I no longer feel safe anywhere, and I no longer feel safe because of you—because I trusted you, and you betrayed me. Because I trusted you, my mother, and you sent Dad to Azkaban. Because I trusted you, and you don't care if I live or die." I take a shaky breath and cough blood onto my arm. "I don't feel safe anymore because if my own mother can turn on me, what's stopping everyone else from doing the same? I used to like being around you—I relished our time together—and now I can't stand the sight of you because when I see you, all I see is the woman who's fine with my death, who will celebrate it.

"I don't feel safe around you because even though you tortured me, I thought you would keep me alive. I thought you wanted me to live. But you don't, and what's to stop you from hurting me ahead of time? And now suddenly I'm worried that everyone who claims to love me will do nothing when I'm looking death in the face. Because if my own mother doesn't care, why should they?"

She opens her mouth to defend herself, but I press my hand harder against her neck and whimper at the effort. "Don't speak. I don't want to hear your voice. I don't want to see your face after today. I want you to stay the hell away from me from this point onward. From right now until I die. You can say goodbye to my lifeless body as you're proudly lowering me into the ground. At least then I won't be aware of your presence."

I release her and wrap my arm back around Narcissa's shoulders. "So, Narcissa, when you 'report back to the Dark Lord,' you can tell him that his best lieutenant is killing his broodmare. When I suffocate in the dormitory or in the corridor because I can't make it to the Headmaster's Tower, just know that it was all Bellatrix's fault." I exhale. "Now take me to Severus, I want to leave. I don't want to be here anymore."

"You shouldn't be Apparating anywhere this soon," Narcissa says. "You need to stay here and recover."

"I don't care. I'll deal with any amount of pain to be free of this place, to be free of her."

I glare at Bellatrix one last time as Narcissa leads me away. Severus walks over to me as soon as we enter the drawing room and lets me grab his arm tightly. "I'm ready to leave," I say to him as he takes a potion from Narcissa.

"Are you sure? This is going to hurt you."

"Just do it. I want to leave."

I look over at my mother once more—she now stands at the entrance of the drawing room, watching me closely. "Brace yourself," Severus says. I close my eyes, hold my midsection tightly, and nod at him.

He Disapparates us. We come to a stop in his chambers, my shrieks echoing around the room. Severus holds me up when I nearly collapse in pain. I take a few moments to collect myself, and then he leads me over to the bed and lets me lie down. "Careful not to let my robes fall open, Severus. You're not allowed to see me naked," I quip, deciding that the pain in my core was worth it.

Even he smiles at my comment before handing me the potion Narcissa gave him. "The Dark Lord requested that I keep you in my chambers until tomorrow at the very least so that I can keep an eye on you. Though I'm sure he expected one of us to be taking the sofa."

"Don't you dare," I say, grinning at him, the potion leeching my pain out of me.

He holds his hands up as if in forfeit.

"Lie down. I want to take a nap before dinner." He lies down on the bed, and I slide close to him. "I've never been able to eat dinner here on my manor days. Perhaps I should panic more often so I can come back earlier."

"Don't joke like that."

"Fine." I roll over, turning my back to him. "Will you hold me while I sleep?"

His arm comes around me, his body warm against me. "Get some rest."

When I wake up sometime later, Severus is gone, but I find a note on his pillow saying that he Polyjuiced himself as me to go down to the Great Hall on the off chance that Rabastan has responded to my letter.

I slide off the bed and go to the bathroom, my robes still hanging loosely around me. I splash cold water on my face, cup my hands beneath the stream of water, and take long, greedy gulps of it. Then I go back to the bed and sit back down.

The door to Severus's private chambers opens, and in he walks dressed as me. My eyes follow him as he silently goes to his bathroom. A few minutes later he returns as himself, wearing a long nightshirt, my robes in his hand. "Where did you get those?" I ask him, a smile threatening the corner of my lips.

"You act as if you never forget things in here." He hands me a vial, and I drink it. Then he waves his wand, and trays of food appear in front of me. "You slept through dinner."

"Can I get some water?" A glass appears in his hand, and he gives it to me. "Did Rabastan happen to reply?"

Severus sits down beside me. "Yes. I didn't open it."

He hands me a small letter. "Is it wrong of me that I almost don't even really want to see what he has to say?"

"There is something I must confess," he says suddenly.

"You don't want him to let me go?"

He frowns. "Well, I think you already know that. What I must confess is that I went back to the manor. Not as you, of course. The Dark Lord called me back. He's angry that something is wrong with you."

"I can't help it that—"

"Not with you. He's asked me to make your life easier here, and I will try to do that. But that's not important." He inhales. "I spoke with Narcissa." I take a long gulp of the water but don't speak. "She told me what you said to Bellatrix. Bellatrix told the Dark Lord what you said."

"Does he want to punish me?" I whisper. "Do I have to go back?"

He places a kind hand on my leg. "No, you don't have to worry about that. He wants Bellatrix to speak with you."

"No."

"Not right now. I told him that you were in no condition to speak with her, but I think he's hoping that if the two of you resolve your issues, you might not go into anymore panic attacks like you've been doing."

"So you're suggesting that I shouldn't have said those things to her?"

"No. You had every right to say those things to her. I just want to warn you that at some point you will have no choice but to confront her again. I know you didn't want to see her again, but it looks like you have no choice."

I sigh. "Fine."

I turn my attention to Rabastan's letter, hoping for better news.

Aurelia,

We can meet if you'd like, but you won't change my mind. I'll see you at the cottage.

With a smile I hand it over to Severus. "As if I'd ever want to stop him."