CHAPTER 17

Severus, chest rising and falling steadily, lays completely undisturbed as I finish dressing for the day. Sleeping is one of the only times he ever seems peaceful, and while part of me would love nothing more than to continue watching him for a while longer, I need to leave soon to visit my father, which unfortunately means he must wake up soon so he can take my place in the castle for a few hours. The idea of waking him saddening me, I walk over tohim and lower my face down to his. "Severus," I whisper. When he doesn't budge, I reach up and move the black hair out of his face. "Severus." With one hand on his upper arm and a hand on his chest, I shake him gently. "Severus, wake up."

His eyes fly open, and in one swift motion, he hops out of bed and tackles me to the floor, pinning me down with my hands above my head. Those black eyes take a short second to focus onto my face. "Charlotte," he sighs, releasing my hands and slowly standing up and offering is hand to help me up to my feet. "Merlin, I—I didn't realize it was you. Are you hurt?"

I press my hand into my lower back and try to pop it. "Not really. Maybe. Not badly," I say, forcing my eyes to stay on his face. I fail, my eyes dropping too often to his lean, bare torso and lingering for a moment too long, and he seems to realize finally that he is completely naked. Clearing his throat, he backs up to the bed and sits back down, covering his lap with the sheets. "Sorry," I murmur.

His mouth turns up into a what almost looks like a self-conscious grin. "It's fine."

"I didn't mean to startle you."

He rubs the back of his neck, watching me for a long moment before finally asking, "You were planning to leave soon?"

"Yes, if you don't mind."

"That's fine."

"You're still all right with taking my place, yeah?" I ask.

He nods. "Of course."

"Still have the robes you stretched out?"

"I do. I'll make sure to clean them."

"I really appreciate that."

He stands and begins preparing himself for the day, and not long after, he comes over to me, offering his arm. Then he Disillusions himself, and we Disapparate. Once we're standing before the estate, I pluck a strand of hair and hold it out for him to take. "I'll be back in two hours to retrieve you," he says.

"Thank you," I say to the empty air. He Apparates away with a quiet pop!, and I start toward the front door.

The Lestrange Estate is just as beautiful as it was the last time I was here—right after saving my father from Azkaban. Now he's here, probably not expecting me considering the fact that he never answered my letter. After taking a moment to prepare myself to see him again, I walk over to the fireplace and, realizing I don't have a wand to open the secret passageway, hang my head. I'm so stupid. I should've remembered and asked to borrow Severus's wand momentarily.

How am I supposed to let them know I'm here? Would they hear me yelling if I tried that? Are there house-elves to alert them that someone has entered their home?

For five minutes, I stand there trying to concoct a plan to somehow let them know I'm here. Then I hear my father's voice from behind me saying, "—be fine." I spin around and see Rabastan turning the corner from what I assume is a pathway to the kitchen if the food in his hands is any indication.

"But we probably shouldn't do it again," Rabastan says. "He'll kill us if anyone catches wind that you've been seen." Plates smash on the floor, spilling coffee and food everywhere, and Rabastan has his wand pointed at me before I have a chance to say anything. "You scared the shit out of me, Aurelia, what are you doing here?"

"Aurelia's here?" Rodolphus pushes his way past his brother and smiles at me. He hands his plates and mug to Rabastan and rushes forward to take me into his arms. "It's so good to see you." He lets me go and returns to his brother's side, who waves his wand to return all the spilled food back to its containers. A house-elf appears beside him, takes the food, disappears, and reappears with what seems to be new food. They lead me to the fireplace and the hidden entrance. "What're you doing here?" Rodolphus asks as he taps the brick to reveal stairs leading downward.

"I was . . . just—I wanted to come have breakfast with you."

His smile grows wider. "Well, you came at the right time, because the house-elves just finished making some. C'mon."

We descend the steps to the holding cell where Rodolphus resides—I don't know why I called it a holding cell; having never seen it before, how could I know if it's nice or not? Surely, if they were going to hide me here for any length of time, they would have made it cozy and livable. Did Rodolphus and Rabastan ever actually think I would be able to use this while on the lam? Did they actually expect me to be able to be free of Voldemort? They must have had high hopes for me. Either that or they grossly overestimated their own abilities.

The steps leading down are made of stone, as are the walls. It's so far that I can't really see where it ends. Every six feet or so, bright torches are mounted on the wall. As Rabastan, behind Rodolphus and me, passes the second torch, the door closes quietly, concealing the entrance to the passageway and cutting off what little light came from the room up there. We continue down the steps until I reach a wooden door with a large metal handle.

With a breath to steady my nerves, which are bouncing crazily right now for whatever reason, I brace myself to see the inside—to see where my father now must live because of me. He pushes the door open, and we enter a Slytherin Dungeon-sized room that looks like a cabin with no windows, the floors and the walls almost all wooden. On my far right there is a kitchen of what seems to be marble and tile, separated only by the counters because there are no walls. In front of that is a small dining area with a black table. To the left is a living room area with a large gray rug to distinguish the area from the rest of the place and two big, black sofas, one against each wall, facing each other. In the middle of the rug is a large, white crest representing Slytherin. I smile in spite of myself at how much my family still loves Slytherin. On top of that white crest is a small black coffee table.

About fifteen feet to the left of the door through which I just entered is another door, this one made of a light material that I do not recognize. Candles and torches hanging from the ceilings and the walls make it seem almost like daylight, the only difference being the flickering of the flames. It's actually comfortable, and a deep appreciation fills me: Rabastan and Rodolphus put so much effort into making this place nice in the event that I would need to live here. It brings a smile to my face to know how much they care about me.

Rodolphus and Rabastan remain silent as I take in the sight of the room, tears filling my eyes. "You—this is excellent." It dawns on me what this is, what I'm admiring. "You made a home for me to hide in."

My father puts his arm around me and leads me toward the table. "Of course we did. What'd you expect? A dingy little dungeon? No. No, if my daughter is forced to go into hiding, she won't live in a dungeon. That's unacceptable." I lean against him, and he kisses the top of my head. "Are you hungry?"

My stomach starts growling. "Starving." We take seats at the table. "How have you been?"

He looks around the place as if just now trying to decide the answer. "I'm fine. This is much better than my cell in Azkaban, let me tell you. Much more inviting." He looks back at me. "It was designed to feel home-like had you the need to hide here."

"How'd you do it?"

"With a lot of effort," Rabastan says lightly as he Conjures a plate for me.

"Does the Dark Lord know that you were involved with the breakout? I tried convincing him that I did it by myself."

My uncle sighs. "I suspect he knows, but questioning me did nothing to help him solve it." He adds with a mischievous grin, "The Dark Lord tries to keep me incredibly busy now, just in case I try contacting Rodolphus. If only he knew that Rodolphus was actually here in my house and not off hiding somewhere."

"Did we tell you that he raided the cottage?" my father asks.

I frown. "Looking for you?"

"Yes."

"Is it destroyed?"

"Not destroyed, but it needed some repairing. As if he thought your dad would be under the floorboards. Insanity," Rabastan says. "The Dark Lord tried to question me with Legilimency, but nothing came of it. I might not be as skilled as Snape or Bellatrix, but I know how to twist the truth about things." His face suddenly becomes solemn. "You didn't . . . get into too much trouble, did you? Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

Severus lying in a pool of his own blood flashes through my mind, and I try to force both it and the sinking feeling in my stomach away. Severus is fine, he's recovered, he's fine. "Well, I actually wasn't—um, I wasn't—he didn't torture me," I say. "He just . . . took away my wand and—"

"He what?" Rodolphus hisses. I guess that means he didn't get my letter? It's good I didn't use names then. "He took away your wand? How does he expect you to defend yourself or-or-or learn in class? Draco has mentioned enough for us to know that some of those Slytherins don't care much for you! How could he endanger you like that?"

"I get it back for the classes when I need it."

"How did you even get here?" Rabastan asks.

"Severus let me use his wand."

"S—Severus let you use his wand?" Rodolphus asks, sharing a glance with his brother.

"Yeah, but just for the time being so I could get here. I should get my wand back soon though, hopefully. Bellatrix said she'd do her best to convince the Dark Lord to let me have it back."

"Don't put too much stock into what Bellatrix might do," Rabastan says bitterly.

Rodolphus eyes him furiously for a moment, but I ignore it. Then he looks at me. "What happened? Did he do anything else to you?"

"Not me. Severus. He had Bellatrix Cruciate him, and I . . . reacted poorly. Well, I begged for mercy on his behalf," I say. "Um—so he had Bellatrix take me away from him, and he—well, he tortured Severus pretty badly. He was . . . covered in blood when I returned and—I had to revive him. I had to nurse him back to health. It was . . ." I just shake my head, trying not to become to nauseous at the thought of Severus's torture, trying to bite back the tears pricking my eyes right now.

"Severus," Rodolphus repeats.

"Yeah, he was angry that I worried for Se-Snape's well-being, and he decided to torture him to punish me."

"Snape," Rabastan repeats, sharing another look with his brother. "You were worried about Snape?"

I clear my throat. "Yeah, he's been a big help to me. He's one of my closest friends. I guess the Dark Lord knows that now, unfortunately. But I don't know what he expected. After all, he put me in Severus's protection, so of course he became my friend."

Rodolphus leans forward and rests his elbows on the table. "Severus." His eyes light up with amusement. "Severus is your friend. Severus."

"Why . . . why do you keep saying his name?"

"You're close enough to Severus Snape to be on a first name basis—he's one of your closest friends," Rodolphus says. He narrows his eyes at me, a suspicious expression coming across his face. "He's not even working for the Dark Lord, is he?"

The blood drains from my face. "Excuse me?"

"He's not working for the Dark Lord," Rabastan says. "You wouldn't trust him that much unless you were positive he wouldn't turn you over to the Dark Lord. Are we correct or not?"

"I'm not going to comment."

"We'll keep it to ourselves," my father says. "You don't have to confirm or deny anything."

Rabastan leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. "Just how close are you to Snape?"

"I trust him unconditionally. Right now, actually, he's impersonating me at Hogwarts so that I can be here without anyone noticing."

Rodolphus grimaces. "Polyjuice Potion?" I nod, and he clicks his tongue, another look going between him and Rabastan.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Nothing," Rodolphus says. "I just want to make sure you're safe to be here."

"It's fine. I trust him to keep it together until I return," I say, then quickly change the subject with, "Did you get my letter?"

"What letter?"

Rabastan's face drops. "I'm so sorry. The Dark Lord has kept me so busy." With a wave of his wand, a letter flies down to us from the main section of the house. He hands it over to his brother.

"I'll read it and write a reply as soon as I can."

They don't comment any more on Severus or my relationship with him, which I am so grateful for because that might have started veering into dangerous territory. Particularly with the Polyjuice Potion. They might even suspect that there is something more than just a normal friendship between Severus and me if both of us are comfortable with him literally becoming me for a while, and I do my best not to talk about him at all for the rest of my time at the estate.

When it comes time to leave, I make an excuse of wanting to see the main house one more time before leaving, and they allow me to leave the safehouse without question. I embrace my father one more time, trying to communicate my gratefulness through that hug, before exiting the safehouse. As we stayed far away from the topic of Severus for the rest of my visit, I feel sure that neither suspects anything is off between Severus and me; surely they would have continued questioning me otherwise.

Disillusioned, Severus calls over to me from just outside the gate of the estate, and I reach my hand out, which he takes and Apparates us away.

I take a seat on the sofa in Severus's private chambers and exhale loudly, allowing myself to bask in the joy currently coursing through me. Because of Severus, I actually got to see my father again. And he's doing kind of well. Other than being trapped away in an underground—is it a house, a flat, just a basement? I don't know. Either way, he's doing kind of well. He's not in any immediate danger so long as Rabastan can convince him to stop leaving the safehouse. Now that I'm really thinking about it, some anger pricks my chest. Does he not realize how much he means to some of us? To me? To Rabastan? Does he not realize that we want him to live a long time?

I'm stewing on this thought, growing more and more upset by the second, when Severus removes the Disillusionment Charm from himself. The Polyjuice Potion is wearing off him as he does so, his hair retreating back into his scalp, his spine and limbs growing longer. He grunts as the potion releases him, and I cannot look away from him. Transficed as I am by the sight in front of me, I do not like it, do not like seeing Severus, fully himself again, in my clothes, which are uncomfortably too small on him.

"Please change," I finally say.

He glances at me. "Who says I don't miss wearing Hogwarts robes?""

I shake my head, then close my eyes and make a show of turning away from him. "Get out of those clothes, Severus."

After giving him ample time to get out of my robes and put on his own, I roll back over and sit up properly. He walks over and sits down beside me. "I received some news from the manor I think you'll appreciate."

"I'm no longer getting called back there?"

He grimaces. "It wasn't a miracle, just a small stroke of good luck. If that's what you want to call it." He reaches into his robes and pulls out my wand. A broad smile comes to my lips that I don't even bother attempting to stifle. Severus returns the happy look. "You can have this back—"

"Thank you," I whisper, throwing my arms around his neck. "Thank you."

"It was mostly Bellatrix," he says almost begrudgingly.

"I don't care. Thank you for everything." I pull away from him. "For pretending to be me and letting me go see Rodolphus today."

"It was my pleasure."

"Did anything happen while you were me?"

He thinks for a moment, then says, "I believe Miss Parkinson hates you so much because you stole her friend from her. The elder Greengrass. She was part of Parkinson's group—however displeased about it—for almost five years until Greengrass became your friend."

"And I dated Draco, who she was obsessed with."

He doesn't seem as convinced. "It's gotten worse though, hasn't it? Now that Draco's gone?"

"It's more physical now rather than just verbal."

"She might have disliked you because you dated Malfoy, but once the two of you became openly friendly again, she wasn't as much of an issue for you. Now she's worse. Draco isn't around to keep her at bay, and Daphne doesn't speak to her anymore. She has no reason to see you as anything other than an obstacle to get back the life she had before. The one where she controlled all the girls in your year. She was the leader, and you took that from her. I think that's why she hates you."

"Hmm. That's something to chew on. Perhaps I can get her to leave me alone now that I know why she hates me."

"It's a thought." He stands up and motions for me to stand up as well. "You need to get back to the other students. They think you were summoned to my office. Apparently, the headmaster wanted to speak with you about something incredibly important. Who knew your opinion mattered so much?"

"What'd the headmaster need to speak with me about?"

"Something about your absences from a few of your classes. The Deputy Headmasters can't seem to get you under control, and so you were forced to speak with me personally."

"So it wasn't even my opinion that mattered, it was just my independence. Brilliant."

"Apparently, you need to tone that back a bit. Be more subservient to the Carrows."

"Never."

"I expected as much. Now come on, you need to get back to the castle and pretend to be a normal student."

The two of us walk out of his chambers and into his office. None of the headmaster portraits ever really comment on how much time I spend with Severus, but I can't help but wonder if they are curious about it and what they would do if they knew the truth about everything. What would they say to Severus? Would they chastise him? Would they snitch? How would Dumbledore react? As if he knows I'm thinking about him, his portrait says, "Miss Rodgers"—he seems hesitant to speak—"I hate to ask . . ."

Severus nods at the portrait and turns to me as if saying that it'd be best if he broached this topic. I want to leave immediately. "But we need to know if the Dark Lord has been successful in his endeavor of impregnating you," Severus finishes. I almost breathe a sigh of relief that he's the one who finished this thought instead of Dumbledore because I'm unsure how I would have handled speaking just to Dumbledore about this.

"I honestly don't know. I mean, he hasn't so far, but who knows about this most recent visit to the manor, you know? I should know soon though." I clear my throat, now growing uncomfortable. "So I can . . . let you know soon? Kind of soon?"

Dumbledore watches me, his blue eyes piercing into me even though he is just a portrait and not the real person. It's unnerving how lifelike he is right now, and I really want to leave Severus's office and not return for weeks. "You're not lying, are you, Miss Rodgers?"

"No. Why? What's so important?" Severus and Dumbledore share a glance. "What? What's happening?"

Dumbledore sighs, then says, "The time is quickly approaching that the Dark Lord will find what he is searching for and will use it to attack these very walls."

I suppose he doesn't use Voldemort's name because of the Taboo, but I can't be sure. As far as I can tell, Dumbledore used to use Voldemort's name almost exclusively. I hope it's the Taboo keeping him from saying it now. (Would that even work within the Hogwarts walls? I don't know.) I don't want to think that Dumbledore has grown squeamish about saying Voldemort's name.

"Do you actually think he'll attack Hogwarts?" I ask. "Do you think he'll . . . do you think he'll find a way to break into Hogwarts?"

"Undoubtedly," the former headmaster says.

I look at Severus and swallow down the fear rising in my throat. An uncomfortable amount of time stretches out before I manage to say, "When?"

"I cannot be sure," Dumbledore says. "But it will happen."

I leave the headmaster's office shortly after that. The fact that Dumbledore thinks something big will happen soon to end the war in no way comforts me about what might lie in store for me.