Next chapter up! I only had one review last chap... that was disappointing, though I suppose that not much happened. It was more of a set up chapter, right? Tell me what you think of this one! And I'm feeling the course of the next chapter already so I think it'll be a quick update next!
"Are you sure this is fine, Theo?" Anna muttered through the silence, carefully studying her boyfriend from the seat across from him. He'd kept his eyes on the passing landscapes most of the journey and now had adopted a green tinge to his cheeks as he watched the platforms emerge around them. He'd done his best to avoid talking to them all journey, but now that was done.
Their friends, who had busied themselves by packing everyone's belongings and sweet purchases into the hand luggage, paused and turned to watch the answer. They'd all concentrated their efforts on keeping Theo as functional as possible the last few days. No matter how rocky the relationship, he'd still lost his father. That, and, since many of them had also lost a father to Azkaban they could both sympathise partially and had a need to keep themselves occupied.
The now scion of the Nott family turned to look at Anna, licking his lips as he calmed himself. Fine was a way of putting it. 'Fine' was just like 'okay' in a way that it's a word without meaning, a word used both when feelings and occurrences are positive and negative -if only to waive concern- and anything in between. 'Fine' was a word that could be used when one is not really sure of how things are, 'fine' could mean anything that wasn't breaking down. And that was how he felt. There were emotions that he did not recognize, feeling he didn't care for, and the fear that feeling these emotions would make him less effective in the things he needed to do and be, and if that happened, fear for how long it'd last. So he preferred to ignore it, pretend it wasn't there until it was over. He had things to do.
"I'm sure." He nodded. "It'll be fine. I arranged everything with all of them. There should be no trouble."
"You know I can do this in your stead, right? Mother wouldn't have a problem with helping me out with the transportation-" Blaise started, but Theo's sudden glare cut him off.
"I appreciate the gesture." He bit in a way that showed that he really didn't. "But I'm perfectly capable of doing my job." If he couldn't then he was useless, he couldn't be useless. Not now.
"If you say so, love." Anna agreed, reaching forwards and sweeping a few hairs away from his face, gently caressing him in an effort to calm him. "I trust you'll have everything under control."
Theo didn't say a word, reaching up to grab her hand and press a kiss to the back of it. Just then the train came to a halt with a slight bump and he dropped her hand as if burned. He didn't mean it like that, but looking back up at Anna he saw that she didn't think so. But she said nothing, even as he pushed back into the seat, away from them. It was just that... in a way, the guilt -he couldn't believe he was feeling guilt- was eating at him. And he couldn't deal with himself at the moment, least of all them. Arriving made it all come true, they weren't in Hogwarts anymore where everything seemed distant and surreal, he'd come to the platform where his father wasn't waiting for him, but rather Alexander and Theresa Carrow, who were also waiting for Flora and Hestia.
"You go on ahead, all of you." He turned back to the window and looked at the platform across from 9 3/4. It was empty, it had always been empty, there was no way to get there, no way to use it. "The twins will pick me up here. To not get lost, you see, lots of people out there."
In silence, all seven of his friends filed out of the compartment with their belongings in tow, each stopping in front of him to offer some sort of goodbye. He acknowledged the gestures, but couldn't find it in himself to value them. There wasn't any room in him for any sort of positive feeling.
Then he was left alone, in semi-silence as the loud scuffling and yelling from the corridor and the platform reached him through the layers of glass and wood and metal, staring out unto the abandoned platform that was Platform 10 3/4, or so he liked to call it. With a hand he twirled the thin tie on his neck between his fingers and with the other he traced the delicate carvings on the metallic plaques on his luggage, which Vince had carefully lowered for him. He could already feel the heat wafting under the door, the summer was humid and bright as ever, doing nothing to improve his mood, and he refused to regret his choice of trousers instead of shorts. He'd lost his father, not his sense of decency.
A soft rapping woke him from his musings and he turned to see his two distant cousins looking at him through the glass. Flora and Hestia were short, with hair just a shade darker than his that reached their shoulders and which they had a habit of combing and separating in just the exact opposite direction of each other. Their eyes held no resemblance to his, even if they were brown, and they looked even less alike considering the way they were completely readable. They felt sorry for him, they were apprehensive of the plan, and they were afraid for themselves and their parents. But most of all, they showed trust. Those two girls were the same age as Astoria, but much softer, much more vulnerable. If nothing else, killing his father had helped them. There was no way these two girls would survive Alecto and Amycus in their home, not with their abundant freckles and colour coordinated outfits. But he was here now. Here to make sure that the adult Carrow twins never made it past the front door. After all, what good could Alexander do against his younger, crazy siblings? They hated him, they'd do their best to get rid of him and Theresa. He wouldn't let that happen.
Theo stood, swinging the strap of his messenger bag over one shoulder and taking the handle of his trunk in his hand as he walked over to the door. Once he's stepped into the corridor he nodded as the girls politely.
"Flora, Hestia. How was your ride?" He greeted them, motioning towards the nearest door.
"All right." Flora shrugged from in front of him. "Astoria was already starting to stress about our OWLs next year and Vaisey couldn't stop fantasising about joining the Quidditch team."
"She says that since there was finally a girl on the team this year, her parents had agreed to let her try out. I suppose our team being corrupt counted for something." Hestia informed him from behind.
"I see." Theo nodded. "Allow me."
He let go of his trunk and moved forwards, getting off the train onto the almost empty platform before the girls. From there he accepted the trunks and the owl cages the girls passed on to him, placing them carefully so as not to jostle the contents. Then the twins stepped down lightly and took their luggage back from him.
"Thank you, Theo." They offered him small, identical smiles before turning away again towards two approaching figures.
Alexander and Theresa seemed to be in their mid-forties, polished and neat but not haughty as the Malfoys or the Greengrasses or mrs Zabini tended to be. More normal, if still abnormally rich, just quite a bit less. The Carrows had more name than money, a low-high class like the Crouches. Very respectable, once one got over the whole Alecto-Amycus debacle, though much more tolerant than most purebloods. They'd been very close to being branded blood traitors multiple times over the last decades, though nobody would ever admit it to their face. It'd be like insulting Amelia Bones or the late Barty Crouch. It wasn't done.
Not that Theo had ever spoken to them, had barely laid eyes on them more than a handful of times and then only on the platforms and the odd Christmas party. All he knew, he knew because of Blaise and Pansy. Personally, they were strangers. He knew their social standing, he knew that Alexander worked at the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes as Head Obliviator and that Theresa was a freelance photographer that Witch Weekly seemed to be fond of, but nothing else. They had to competent parents, at least, since the twins were well-mannered, pleasant and intelligent, if somewhat easily bored.
"Hello, mum, hello dad." The girls chorussed. "This is Theo, we told you about him."
"Yes, you did." Alexander turned to the Theo, holding out his hand. "My condolences, Theodore. I was not particularly familiar with your father, but we'll all mourn his absence."
"Quite. Thank you, mr Carrow." Theo forced himself to nod, shaking the offered hand and allowing Theresa to place another hand on his shoulder.
"Feel free to call us Alexander and Theresa, dear." The woman told him, smile only slightly strained. "Mrs Zabini already took care of all the paperwork and formalities with the Ministry, you've got nothing to worry about. We're glad to be welcoming you to our home for the next year and we hope you'll feel comfortable there."
"I'm sure I will, thank you Theresa." Acting as if the conversation wasn't painfully awkward and forced, he turned back to Alexander. "I'd be grateful if you could take me back to Nott Manor to pick up some things, Alexander. It won't take long."
"Of course, it's no problem at all. We have to get back in time for dinner, though. A ministry official will be over to ask a few questions and take care of a few other things like inheritance and the possessions your father had on him at the time."
Alexander then offered his arm and Theo had to suppress rolling his eyes. He didn't know who he should feel more sorry for, Alexander for not being able to lie convincingly in his late forties or himself for it being second nature at sixteen. Nevertheless, he took his relative's arm and endured the unpleasant feeling of apparition.
They arrived on a neatly trimmed lawn, in the shadows of a new two meter tall wall that Marcus had had built around the manor over the last week to replace the fragile, see-through metal hedge. It was better for privacy, made it less likely for anyone passing by to see the soon to be hundreds of muggleborns in hiding. He hadn't expected there to be new flowers in the formerly empty patches, or the curtains to be drawn or the bushes to be meticulously trimmed. It wasn't that they were slobs, but since the Nott family wasn't into social gatherings in their own grounds the only time the garden had been continuously taken care of was when his mother had been alive. He didn't know how seeing this made him feel.
Suddenly the front door opened and three people in their early twenties stepped out of the house. Adrian Pucey, Marcus Flint and Gemma Farley. He'd been expecting the younger two and a third companion. He hadn't known exactly who it would be but there had to be a third. Theo had forgotten she was studying runology nowadays, though the choice seemed obvious now that he thought about it.
Without looking at the approaching figures he put down the trunk in his hand and turned to Alexander. "Feel free to look around the grounds, though I'll have to ask you not to enter the Manor. We've already starting moving in those in need of hiding and although there's only a few of them yet, we've promised them complete secrecy from anyone not fully involved and invested in their safety. I know the twins had you promise to keep this a secret, but I will be asking you to take an unbreakable vow once we get back."
"Right, right. And I'll do that, yes." The man eyed the three younger adults warily before stepping off towards the greenhouses, that were now mostly open to the sun. His steps seemed hurried, as if he were anxious to get away from this whole mess. Understandably.
"There you are, Nott. Starting to think you'd chickened out." Gemma quipped, but her tone was more gentle than mocking. In his opinion, Farley was one of the most tactful Slytherins he'd come across, though some people had difficulties discerning tones of voice. It wasn't her fault than some paid more attention to the words than what was behind them.
"As if." He took the messenger bag from his shoulder and passed it to her. "Here, we prepared our side of the ingredients and such, including my blood to bypass the Nott wards, so knock yourself out. I need to get some things, I'll be back by the time you're ready to start."
"Thanks, Theo." Adrian chuckled, peering into the bad his previous classmate was holding up. "We'll get to it. But I think Marcus should join you... The mu- muggleborns have already gotten used to him being around, and even if it's your house I think it'd be best if he were there to smooth over the introductions."
"Whatever." The boy didn't bother to hide his disdain for the idea, but then again it wasn't necessary to do so around them. "Come on, then."
He stalked to the front door in silence, ignoring the taller man behind him as he approached his home. From the windows he could see a few faces looking out at him, but he didn't bother to fix his gaze on any of them. There was barely a dozen muggleborns in the manor by now, he'd like to be in his house without thinking about them just yet. It didn't help that for the first time since he could remember, all the curtains were drawn and all the ivy had been trimmed and all the stones were pristine white again. Was cleaning the stones really necessary? It wasn't like they'd been dirty. In a way, it stung.
The door swung open for him, and he stepped into the entrance hall with slightly hesitating steps. The new inhabitants had hurried over to meet him and were either looking down at him from the balconies of the other levels or standing on the sides, almost sticking to the walls. But he ignored them. At the moment, he only had eyes for the patch of wall over the staircase, a large rectangle paler than the rest of the wall. The last time he'd been here, there'd been a larger than life portrait of his mother -magically silent, of course, his father hadn't ever let her speak in life, he wouldn't do so in death- that had always watched him with great sadness. Was it regret for hanging herself? He knew it couldn't have been a pleasant place for her to be, looking out to the very chandelier she chained herself to, but she'd become sadder over the last few years. The only good side about her being silent was that it guaranteed that she wouldn't tell anyone any of his secrets. Nothing he ever told her, deep in the night when he couldn't sleep and the words tumbled between his lips, would ever leave her, even if she somehow gained the ability to talk. She was his mother.
So why was she gone?
"What happened to my mother?" He ground out, eyes not leaving the aforementioned wall. Around him there was silence, as the muggleborns met the owner of their refuge with trepidation.
"We wrapped all the paintings and statues and put them in the cellar, along with any dark artefacts and your father's belongings." Marcus supplied from behind him.
"My mother's painting is mute. There was no reason to take her away." He rebuked. "Mother would never-"
"Magical paintings are sentient, Theo. And while there are binding oaths that our collaborators can take to ensure their discreetness, the same cannot be done with paintings. As much as you might trust your mother, the minimal risk was still there. And we promised our guests-"
"Get my mother out of the cellar, shrink her and bring her to me. I'm taking her with me." Theo snapped. "And put away all decorations made of precious metals and jewels and ward the door to the lower levels."
"Theo, you don't really think that these people-"
"The minimal risk is still there." Theo mocked, doing nothing to keep the poison from his voice. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have belongings to fetch."
He then strode to the stairs, ignoring the looks thrown at him and making no effort to discern what emotions might be behind them. Keeping his head high he strode to the east wing of the third floor, ignoring the way dozens and dozens of paler rectangles of wall stared at him. The room in the back of the corridor was his and as he opened the door he felt the wards placed on the entrance fold around him. He'd always been paranoid in his own home, always suspected his father or trying to search his room in his absence, but he never had. The wards were always intact and unchallenged when he got back.
His room was dark. Clearly, whoever had gone around opening the curtains hadn't wanted to break into his room because the two massive floor to ceiling windows were still fully covered. His room was in the corner of the house so where the two outer walls met, that was where he'd had the windows. He'd never cared much for the sunlight, but he could see the night sky very well through them, and look out to the fields and forests behind the gardens. He left the curtains shut and turned on the lights.
Theo took a shrunken trunk from his desk drawer. It was larger than his school one, in it's normal form, and had an even more potent extension charm that could fit way more than someone with a permanent home would need. Without thinking too much about it, he started tossing the piles of books that formed cities on his floor into it, wincing at the sound of them not hitting the bottom. He took a few shirts that had been swung over the back of the sofa and the chair by his desk and tossed them in as well. Then he emptied his desk, all papers and notebooks and any other scribbles and random pack of cards he could find went in the trunk.
The remaining contents of his wardrobe took a while to pack. It wasn't a shameful thing for him to have a walk-in closet. Any self-respecting noble with any dress sense had one. There were formal robes, casual robes, modern and old fashioned robes, heavy and light robes, there were ties and cravats and bowties, waistcoats and dress shirts, trousers, underwear, socks, all formal and non-formal shoes, belts, suspenders, wristwatches, pocket-watches, cufflinks, normal shirts, sweaters, hats, jackets, winter scarves, lighter scarves, gloves, sleeping clothes, night robes, cloaks, handkerchieves, sunglasses, briefcases, messenger bags, wallets, pouches, and, hidden in a small cranny behind one of the drawers, his mother's wedding ring. His father had wanted to throw it into the family vault, but he'd needed to keep it close. It had belonged to his mother, and while he rarely even thought about it, having it around made sense to him.
From his wardrobe he moved to the bathroom. From there he took his second shaving kit -the first had gone with him to school- and the other aftershaves and creams and lotions his father had insisted that were necessary even though he barely had any fuzz to speak of. His combs and hair products, the soaps and shampoos and the bath products that he liked buying with Pansy and liked the smell of but never had time to use.
Then he was done, and he didn't know how long it'd taken him to pack but he also didn't care. He closed the lid of the trunk and sat down on his bed. He hadn't packed any pictures because there were none to pack. He didn't have any childhood drawings or toys in his room, no books on anything other than theories and real life events and politics, some on art and architecture, some on general culture. No children's stories, some classical literature and plays and poetry, nothing lighthearted or emphasising happiness and friendship. That wasn't how this house worked, that wasn't how he worked. And it wasn't his choice. It wasn't his fault that he'd never learned to value those lighter sides of life, that he hadn't had a real friend from the time his mother started self-harming to the moment he'd started visiting Anna in the hospital in first year. It wasn't his fault that he was... empty. Was he empty? He sure felt empty.
But he was in love. That had to count for something... Then again, love doesn't cure all ills even if most people wanted to believe otherwise. They clung to the hope that if they only just find that special someone that accepted them and cherished them, that it would all be better, that nothing would ever again be too much. It was a wrong assumption.
He was also angry. Angry at his father, angry at himself, angry at Rabastan and Anna and Voldemort and his mother. Angry because he hated that he had to do this, he hated that he'd had no qualms with it, hated the feeling of relief it brought, hated hating that feeling, hated the reason he felt the relief in the first place and most of all, he hated being capable of doing it in the first place, no matter how necessary or just it was or seemed to be.
With a shout of rage he kicked one of the posters of the bed, breaking a few of the carved details, and got up. He pushed the couch and it toppled with a loud crash, only for that to be covered by the even louder sound of his desk chair being thrown across the room into the open bathroom, where it broke apart on the tiles. He ripped the desk drawers out and tossed them against the windows where they fell tangled on the curtains, and then he pulled the curtains down until the rails were ripped off the walls and the velvet fell on the ground. They left a cloud of dust and the echo of ringing metal in their wake, giving him pause as he was suddenly bathed in sunlight.
Theo stood there, panting harshly, staring out into the grounds while clenching his fists even tighter. But the light kept him still, warmth suddenly caressing his skin, doing its best to soothe him. Slowly his heart crept back to its normal pace, his breathing settled, and his jaws unclenched. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, seeing the smooth red of light through his eyelids. Once he reopened them he ran a hand through his hair, fixing the slight mess of himself he'd made, and then rearranging his clothing and posture.
He left the room in tatters, replacing the wards on the door with barely a second thought and dragging the trunk behind him. Now, to the library to remove all books on dark magic, then he'd join the others outside to write the notes with the address and place the Fidelius.
There was a gap around Aunt Narcissa as Anna and Draco got off the train. It was to be expected, as was the way said aunt seemed completely unaware of the suspicious and nervous glances shot her way. There was no way someone as composed as Narcissa Malfoy would bat an eyelash, but Anna knew that deep down it actually hurt. Nobody can truly shake off being rejected by the society they live in, no matter how little mind one might pay strangers day to day.
"Hello, mother." Draco greeted, stopping just in front of Narcissa and pecking her cheek. It was a display of affection that was rare for the Malfoys to do in public, but in this case family warmth was not only welcome amongst them but also important to remind the onlookers to be polite. They were -after all- still people.
"Hello, dear. How was the train ride?" Narcissa answered cupping her son's cheek and bending slightly to the side so Anna could kiss her also.
"Tense." Anna chuckled. "But that's just as well, seeing as the rest of wizarding Britain is tense too."
"Quite." Her cousin sighed before taking his mother's hand. "Shall we go?"
As soon as Anna took hold of her aunt's other hand, the world around them spun away. The surroundings that replaced it were very different to the grey stone and smoke of the platform, most of all because it was cool and the only light around them was the rays of sunlight streaming through the coloured glass of the windows. They had landed on the large carpet in the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor, under the chandelier, and the only other person in the room was Anna's mother, who was sitting on the steps of the staircase.
At seeing them arrive, Bellatrix got to her feet, an exited grin on her lips that was just slightly too wide to appear normal. The woman hurried down the steps and towards her, layers of black silk swishing around her until she came to an abrupt halt in front of Anna, pulling her into a tight hug.
"Oh, Annie, there you are! I'm so proud of you!"
Anna, for her part, reacted slightly better than the first time her mother had embraced her and placed both of her hands on her mother's back. Her body was relaxed but inside she was making a great effort to stop herself from pushing her mother away. Bellatrix had killed Sirius. She was proud of her now but if she knew how Anna truly felt about Voldemort she would not hesitate to kill her. Everything about her mother both terrified and enraged her. She'd killed her own cousin, a cousin who had protected Anna by standing up to Dumbledore, who had talked to Nymphadora about her, tried to persuade Fred and George to leave her be, who had listened when she was afraid and confused. In a way, he was the only adult she'd ever confided with. Sure she'd talked to uncle Lucius, but not about the time 'before'.
And Bella had killed him.
"Hello, mother." Anna began, struggling to keep her voice pleasant. "I must say that this is a much more enthusiastic greeting than I was expecting."
"Don't be silly, girl." Bellatrix scoffed, drawing back and holding Anna tightly by the arms as she looked her up and down. Her nails were digging into Anna's flesh painfully, but she didn't wince. "You do indeed resemble me. You won't be able to hide it next year, but that's not important... I was going to say that I'm proud of you, darling! Got rid of Dumbledore and got Potter into the Ministry! It was a pity that things didn't work out as they should have but-"
"Why are you trembling, aunt?" Draco asked from the side, noting what Anna had tried to ignore. Because she didn't care if she'd been hurt by Voldemort. She had to suffer some way. Anna tried to swallow the vengeful thoughts but failed. This was her mother, but Anna felt little love for her.
"Oh, it's nothing. Our lord wasn't too happy after the Ministry mishap, he was completely within his rights to deal out punishments as he saw fit." Bellatrix waved her hands as if her being tortured wasn't a big deal. Then she turned back to Anna. "Speaking of, he wanted to see you as soon as you'd arrived. I personally would have sent you to get changed first, but it's what he wants. Best not keep him waiting."
Before Anna could do any more than glance down at herself her mother was already dragging her towards the stairs by her wrist, so all she did was call over her shoulder to her cousin and aunt. "I'll see you later!" She told them, looking back towards her feet so as not to trip on the stairs.
"Annie, I know we had our disagreements last time we saw each other, but I'm quite confident we can work around those." Her mother started chattering without looking back at her, her quick steps echoing and melding with her voice, which as always had the slight tilt that hinted at her instability. "It was because of that boy, I believed he could not be trusted completely -apple doesn't fall far from the tree, after all- but I suppose he served you well this last year. I'm willing to put up with him. It's not that I trust him completely, or even a little, but I'm willing to make the effort for you and not curse him when his back is turned. I know your father and uncle were much easier to convince, frankly I always knew Rodolphus would be too soft on whatever children we ever chose to have. Nothing to be done about it now, though."
Anna grit her teeth slight. It was fine, Bellatrix was trying. That was worth something, it might mean that she'd want to spend more time with Anna, but it also meant that she'd be less likely to look too deeply into anything she did. But oh, how Anna wished there would be no repercussions for hurting her. There was nothing Anna wanted less than to spend time with her mother.
"Actually, Theo wanted me to ask the Dark Lord if he could take his father's place in his ranks. Godfather lost Elbert, but not the Nott house. He wants the mark." Anna told her mother, an harsh tinge to her voice. "As does Draco. They both believe that this is an opportunity to show him how deeply committed they are to him, even if they'll be spending the next two years in Hogwarts. They'll be helping me more officially."
"Really?" Bella turned her head to her daughter, the surprise evident. "I didn't think Draco had it in him. I don't really know the Theodore boy either but I doubted him too. I guess they're not completely useless." Then she stopped suddenly. "He's in there. Wanted to speak to you privately before everyone else arrived for the meeting."
"Thank you, mother. I'll see you soon." Anna forced a smile at her and in return she got a clumsy, slightly too wet kiss on her forehead.
Then Bellatrix strode off in the direction they'd come from and left her standing in front of the door to the dining room. One of the dining rooms, rather, the one with a longer table, capable of seating almost sixty people. Anna had only ever passed through it, but she knew that there were no silencing charms on the doors. He would have heard them approach, heard Bellatrix leave, he would know she was there and hesitating to enter. Couldn't waste too much time then, but it took a few moments for Anna too push down the instinctual desire to just leave.
Barely a few seconds later she knocked on the door, and entered at her godfather's command. He was sitting at the head of the table, a silver goblet with something and a pitcher by one hand, a dish with fruit and a few books by his other. Nagini lay on the table, gigantic head raised to watch her come in, silent and alert. The Dark Lord himself offered her what in his mind might have been a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. She didn't think it had anything to do with him not really wanting to smile or not meaning it, but she believed that he couldn't express the emotion of caring that such a smile represented. But it was the thought that counted, so she smiled in return, even if his appearance made it counterintuitive to show any sort of positive emotion towards his person.
"Godfather, mother said you wanted to speak to me?" Anna came closer.
"Yes, yes, child, come." He motioned to the chair to his right. "Take a seat, have some fruit, we must talk."
Cautiously, Anna did as she was told. As soon as she'd taken a seat to his right, Nagini moved her head closer, studying her face in silence. It was a bit unnerving, but Anna did her best to ignore it, casually grabbing an apple from the dish and taking a bite of it. She waited for her godfather to speak. It wasn't odd that he'd want to speak to her so quickly, but his actions were bordering on warm so she was unsure what to expect of the conversation to come.
"I must say, when you came to me last summer with the idea for this little project I was... hesitant to expect too much of it. I believed you would have some results here and there but definitely not to the extent you did. Which is why I gave you that new assignment over your Christmas break; getting rid of Dumbledore was a challenge that I had planned for you to fail. The positive results you got over the first half of your school year did not necessarily mean that you would succeed in that so I had ordered back up plans to be made. But it worked out, and you also managed to get Potter out of the school." He extended a hand and took the goblet. "You did quite well."
"Thank you, godfather." Anna bowed her head. "I only did my best to serve you, this was the least I could do."
For a second the Dark Lord was silent as he drank before putting the goblet down and reaching out a hand to his familiar. The giant snake slid closer until her head rested on his shoulder and he stroked her back with long, gentle movements. "I spoke to Lucius, before I sent him to the Ministry, of course. He approached me, worried about you being restless. He told me that to keep yourself occupied you'd devised a plan to take over the Ministry, without using excessive force. Is there a reason for that?"
"Oh." Anna's eyebrows rose. She hadn't planned for Lucius to tell him that, but while it was a surprise, it wasn't an unpleasant one. It saved her the trouble of introducing the plan to him herself. Good thinking on uncle's part. "Well, I had some spare time so I started wondering what we might need to bring our plans forwards. I am aware that you probably had your own plans, which is why I didn't mention it to you... as for the lack of force, I believe that if less force is used less people would be likely to rebel. If one doesn't feel too directly threatened, most will keep their heads down, keep the peace lest violence does come into play. I apologise if it was not my place, godfather, I meant nothing by it."
Voldemort chuckled. "You have some initiative, I'll give you that. Walk me through it."
"Godfather?"
"Your plan. I'm not going to dismiss what I've already planned but maybe if some elements of yours are to my liking, I might introduce them. You are right about the violence, but really it doesn't matter. No rebellion in the Ministry would succeed." He waved a hand dismissively. "Go on, speak."
"Well, since Cornelius Fudge spent the whole of last year denying your return, godfather, it's to be expected that he won't be Minister much longer. A week or two at the most. One of my old schoolmates, Marcus Flint, informed me that over the last week, since the Ministry incident, the Wizengamot and the other Department Heads have been in and out of meetings. He was the senior undersecretary's undersecretary and since she's dead he's taken that spot for the time being. Marcus said that it has been decided to first elect a new Minister and then have Fudge step down, thus over the next week candidates will present themselves -all from the higher positions in the Ministry- and and from those the new Minister will be chosen by the Wizengamot." Anna took another bite of the apple and swallowed before continuing. "Thus, my plan was to pick a candidate who is known, but not the right type to be in office during such a crisis, one who is known to oppose the dark arts so as to not be suspected of collaborating with us, and have him run for Minister. When he isn't chosen he'll back down with no protest. The new Minister will be allowed to have the illusion of control and progress for a while until we have the Wizengamot and Heads of Department... if not on board with the programme then sufficiently controlled. Once that's done we get rid of the new Minister and our candidate, until then believed to be completely clean, will as the runner up take the office."
"Simple, yet effective." Voldemort nodded, giving her an appraising look. "And yet for that you'd need your candidate to actually come in second. Who do you have in mind?"
"I eventually made the choice for Pius Thicknesse. He's utterly bland, yet reliable and effective at his job. He'd be acceptable in any other point in time." Anna sighed. "But as things are now, he'd be coming in third. Two others have reportedly presented themselves who are much better choices than he is, one of which we had not expected but should have. Killing two Ministers would strain credulity."
"Who are the candidates, then?"
"Rufus Scrimegour was the one we expected, Amelia Bones, however, also put her name forwards and is a much more effective choice than Scrimegour. He's impulsive, strong but a bit rash, Bones is much more levelheaded." Anna sighed. "Amelia Bones will be much harder to deal with if she gets into that office, she's smell out any moles we have in the Departments and we'll make no headway."
"Well you certainly have grasped the situation well, haven't you? I was not planning on presenting an own candidate, merely on getting rid of the Minister and his replacements when the time came. There was no need for... prudence when taking over, I believed. However, using Thicknesse would be a way of repressing future revolts. Much less work, and it will give you a project for the summer. And then directing him and the moles over the next year, which I had already planned, gives me something to do while we wait for the opportune moment to take over the Ministry properly." The Dark Lord hummed. "The meeting after this was going to be about pinpointing all the candidates and getting rid of them over the next year. I was already planning on having Madam Bones taken care of, her being the most logical and dangerous candidate for Minister. The rest would come later, but I suppose there will no longer be any need for that, right child?"
"Yes, godfather." She nodded.
"We'll have her taken care of tomorrow night, and then you and Bella will also pay dear Pius a visit. Tonight however, after the meeting, we will enjoy a quiet family dinner. It's only fitting, now that we have lost so many. The rest of the inner circle will also be in attendance, what's left of it at least."
"Indeed, godfather... speaking of that-"
"We will discuss your father tomorrow." He cut her off sharply, his voice taking a slight poisonous tone. "He and the rest of your extended family failed me, I do not wish to ruin my mood by thinking of them."
"Of course, godfather, but if I may, I was going to speak of something else..." She looked down at her hands, clenched on her lap.
"Oh, very well. What is it?" Now he sounded resigned.
"Both Draco and Theo were... understandably disappointed by their fathers' performance. While Theo never much approved of anything Elbert did, he did support his service to you. Both wished for me to put in a good word for them... they wish to officially serve you; get the mark and take their fathers' place by your side." Anna told him, trying to sound as supplicant as possible. "I do understand that some my find them being so unexperienced and yet so close to you to be unfair but their help and presence by my side much facilitated my actions at school. I believe they would be quite beneficial to you and your plans, now by my side at school and later once they've left it. The younger they are, the better, I believe was my mother's reasoning for my... gifting to you."
For a while he was silent, considering her words while studying her and the snake. On and off, she felt his eyes on her, but she didn't look up. Anna only waited, with baited breath, for his answer. If he agreed, it would give Draco and Theo much needed trust and acceptance from the other Death Eaters. To be marked so young, while not being his godchildren, would give them the standing they needed to have the authority to carry out her 'requests' without being questioned. It was a quick way, a shortcut, to get into the ranks, but any other way would be longwinded and difficult.
"I warn you Annabelle; both their fathers denied their allegiance to me, both their fathers now failed me -one with a more final conclusion than the other- so any mistake they make will be your responsibility. Anything they do and anything they say will reflect on you and you will also be punished for their failures." He quietly drew his wand and placed the tip on her forehead. Anna looked up at him with a clenched jaw, trying not to make sudden movement or seem either scared or defiant. She needed to look trusting and accepting... like a dog. "It will all come back to you. Are you willing to take that risk?"
"Yes, godfather." She licked her lips. "I have no doubt that they will do just fine."
"Very well, then. I shall mark them tomorrow." He extended a hand. "Now give me your arm."
Silently she stretched her left arm towards him, with her own wand vanishing the makeup that hid her dark mark. With a slight fascination she watched as he pressed the tip of his own wand to the centre of the tattoo. It hurt but slightly, when he called for the others, making her only wince. Getting the mark had hurt more, and watching the black lines turn even darker took up more of her attention. As the other Death Eaters arrived, one by one, she prepared herself for what she had to do over the next few days. Take note of the moles Voldemort had and pass the names to Adrian and Marcus so they could either turn or override them, somehow make sure that Amelia Bones escaped getting killed without the Dark Lord knowing -she would be immensely useful to clear their names later-, watch her cousin and boyfriend be defiled, get her godfather to free her family which he now was angry at, and to top it all off she had to take her mother and go visit Pius Thicknesse. Right.
Amelia looked up, startled as her niece tumbled out of the fireplace in a hurry. The girl, who had only returned from Hogwarts yesterday, was covered in ashes and soot but didn't seem to mind as she hurriedly got to her feet. With her head turning wildly she finally spotted her aunt sitting by the table in a corner and strode over. Amelia herself, who had been reading through some paperwork, sat stock still with her teacup still halfway to her mouth.
"Susan, is there something-?" She didn't get to finish the question before the girl took out a small piece of rolled up parchment and held it out to her with shaking hands.
"Read this, auntie." Susan muttered.
Amelia cleared her throat, blinking once to compose herself again, and put down the cup and the scroll in her hands. Then she took the small letter and read through it. Neat, loopy handwriting announced:
Susan, they're coming for your aunt tonight. Get her out before midnight and have her go to WWW. They'll be waiting for her after closing time. She can only take what she needs, it can't look like she was warned. We'll take care of the rest.
B.Z.
"Who is B.Z.?" Amelia asked, eyes trailing over the letter again and again. "And- no, Susan, what is this?"
"Auntie, please listen." The girl sat down, getting the fabric of the chair dirty with all the ashes she had on her. "Last year, Justin -a muggleborn- was approached by an older student, Herbert Fleet, saying that there was going to be a refuge for muggleborns and their families. He could go whenever he wanted, but Elbert said not to wait too long because while Justin was safe at Hogwarts his family was registered in the Ministry and with as many Death Eaters in the Ministry as there are their identities wouldn't be safe for much longer. Justin didn't believe it because Herbert said he was working for someone else so he demanded to know who this someone else was. So he was introduced to Blaise Zabini."
"Zabini? Mrs Zabini's son is doing this?"
"Yes and no." Susan shook her head. "Blaise said that he was working with a Death Eater, close to you-know-who, who was sabotaging him. One of the ways they were doing that was by hiding muggleborns, particularly students and Ministry employees because the first are underage and the second run more risk. We trust him and the Weasley twins do too, with what happened to their father and how much they care about Harry there's no way they'd align with them if they weren't sure it was real." She scooted even closer. "That's WWW, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. They serve as a passage to wherever the hideout is."
"Then why do you know about this, Susan?" Amelia countered. "If they wanted to keep this people safe the least they could do is make sure no other students found out and spread it around!"
"But that's thing, auntie." Susan insisted. "Justin just came up to me three days ago and told me to go to a meeting on the train. Zabini met up with other students that weren't muggleborn but that had prominent light family members, like Zacharias and Megan and Terry and Roger and a bunch of others. He told us that our families ran just as much risk so that if something were to happen they'd try to protect us too. Told us to be on high alert in case we needed to act quickly. This is it, auntie. What did you do to get such a quick response after he was acknowledged?"
"I-" Amelia looked back down at the letter in her hands. They're coming. "I presented myself to be Minister. I can't leave, I have to make a stand. I'll fight them if they come-"
"No! No!" Susan snapped, eyes widening in fear. "Don't you see? They're already taken care of everything on the other side! If you don't leave you'll expose them and all the muggleborns they could have hid will be left to fend for themselves! And you'll die anyway because he wants you dead! If you survive his followers he'll just do it himself like he did at the Ministry. Please, auntie, please-" She grabbed her hands. "Let them save you. Once the war is over we'll need you to help rebuild everything, but if you stay I'll lose you too. Staying won't do anything. I'm begging you."
Susan had started to sob, tears mingling with the thin layer of grey on her skin. Amelia looked from her niece to the letter to the paperwork on her table. With a lip trapped between her teeth she got to her feet, hands sliding from between Susan's, and started pacing. This wasn't good. If the boy was right, she'd die, if the boy was wrong, she'd leave and not be able to return even when nothing was wrong. And who said the boy was trustworthy? The Weasley boys? As light as their family might be, anyone can stray. And even if they hadn't strayed, they were boys, they could be mistaken... Susan trusted them, even trusted Zabini, but that was no guarantee. But if she stayed? Either she died or first a bunch of innocent people died and then she died too. So it was either walking into a trap or getting out of the fight early or surviving to help in the future... or dying and maybe getting other people killed in the process. Because she knew he would come eventually, if not now then soon. But it was too much of a coincidence for this to happen right as she presented her candidacy. Either they were doing this to get her out of the race -and by extension to catch hopeful muggleborns- or he really was coming to get rid of her.
But if she stayed she would definitely die. If she went... the worst case scenario was her walking into a trap, which she would be able to alert someone about, if not to save herself then to alert someone of what was happening to the muggleborns. And if she was safe, even if she left too early... well then she could help in the future, it was better than not being of any help at all.
"Auntie?" Susan interrupted her musings quietly, look at her pacing figure with puffy eyes. "Please go."
Amelia sighed and placed her hands on her hips. "Alright then. Let's get you cleaned up, dear, then you can help me pack what I'll need. You better not tell your father anything."