Chapter 31 "Home"

-Viola Richmond's POV-

The next morning, Viola ate her breakfast in silence. Or at least, tried to. Zubeida, another sixth-year Slytherin, slid over to her.

"Did you have a fight with your girlfriend?" She asked unashamedly.

Viola sighed. Why couldn't people just mind their own business?

Viola sighed, she supposed it was an accurate description of what happened. Senna blamed Viola for stealing something that was obviously very important to her, and then stormed off. Before she answered, Viola looked around. Senna was nowhere to be seen. "Yeah, I suppose we did have a fight."

Zubeida continued to stare, expecting more details. When she didn't get them, she spoke again. "So are you two… over now?"

Viola thought about this for a moment. "I don't think so. She's just being stupid right now."

But she had to admit, she was very angry at Senna. Hadn't they gotten past the petty blaming? If she hadn't convinced Senna that she was on her side by now, she didn't know what else to do.

"Ah. Okay." Zubeida said thoughtfully. "My ex boyfriend and I fought all the time," she plucked a piece of french toast out of the serving plate and took a bite, "but after three-months of his moods, I grew tired of him."

Zubieda started to rant about her ex's other shortcomings. Viola tuned her out.

A loud bang silenced the noisy Great Hall. It sounded like someone had collided with the door. For extra security measures, they usually kept the door closed once the meal officially started.

The door swung open, and Zubieda nearly jumped off the bench. A large man with a round face and belly stomped through the Great Hall. This was Julien Roberts, the Headmaster of Brownwell. His face was very red, and held an expression of fury. The students watched him curiously as he marched directly to the staff table, and right up to Albus Dumbledore.

"What is the meaning of this?" Roberts' voice boomed throughout the hall.

Dumbledore regarded him with his usual mask of perfect calm and nonchalance. "My dearest friend, please tell me what is going on."

"The girls just informed me that your Aurors infiltrated our dormitory and forcibly took my Champion into custody last night. Explain the meaning of this!"

The Great Hall fell silent. It was difficult to not eavesdrop when his voice shook the paintings on the wall.

"With the first tournament only two weeks away," He was practically snarling, "Is this a plot to eliminate the competition?"

"Of course not!" Professor McGonagall stood up, indignant from the accusation, "Albus would never stoop so low, are you aware of what you are accusing?"

He turned his red face to McGonagall. "Then explain yourselves, and return my student!"

"We have not taken your student, Roberts." Dumbledore stated.

"I don't believe that. Your Aurors took my Champion."

"There must have been an incident last night, we can investigate this." Snape stood up as well.

"Incident? Now this is my Champion's fault?" His voice boomed. Headmaster Roberts was usually soft spoken, Viola never realized that it was possible for his voice to be so loud. "My girls told me she was unarmed, held her arms up in surrender, and they dragged her out like a criminal. How dare you. How dare you detain an underage student of mine, without warrant, and without my knowledge!"

Dumbledore stood then. His voice was as calm as ever. "I'm very sorry that this happened, but please know I have not been made aware of this. This was not my doing. But if you would please," He gestured to the side room of the Great Hall, "Let us discuss this, I promise we will get to the bottom of this."

Viola, and the rest of the students, just stared dumbfounded as figures of Dumbledore, Roberts, and a handful of staff, retreated into the side room.

Viola's brain began to turn, her palms sweating. If she was detained by Aurors, there must have been a reason. Did they suspect her of being the one who helped the Death Eaters break in? Was it about her adventure in Knockturn alley? Was Senna hiding something from her?

Viola struggled to put the clues together in her head.

As the start of first period came near, the staff left the side room. Students funneled out of the Great Hall. She looked back to see Dumbledore speaking to the Aurors stationed at the door.

She itched to know what was going on, and where Senna was now. But she had to show up for Astrology, skipping class was a sure way to lose her Prefect badge.

Time ticked much too slowly. It seemed that time always slowed down when all you wanted was for it to go faster.

Pansy Parkinson leaned over from the next table. "So why was your girlfriend arrested last night?" She asked her when Trelawney was off dramatically predicting someone's misfortune.

"I don't know, I wasn't there."

"Really, so you have no idea?"

"Nope." Viola clenched the book as Pansy's drawling voice irritated her.

Pansy leaned back to her table and whispered to her neighbors.

Viola felt like this class would never end.

-Senna Snape's POV-

Senna was moments away from consciousness, engrossed in the warmth that surrounded her. She was comfortable here, and she liked that, but something egged at the corner of her mind. Something wasn't right. She tried to shove down the persistent prodding, trying to convince herself to give into the comfort.

A fire crackled in the distance. She was exhausted, she wanted to rest. But the prodding eventually won.

What was it that wasn't right? She pondered this for a moment. And then she remembered… She had passed out on the cold forest floor. Wherever she was now, it was not the same place.

Her eyes shot open.

She was in a dimly lit room, stone walls surrounding her, a fireplace against the wall—the source of the crackling noise. She was on a queen sized bed, strewn with an array of different sized pillows and layers of blankets. The room smelled like smoke and old paper.

Where was she?

She was still in the same clothes, a lacey black nightgown, but her blazer was draped over the bedpost, and her shoes were next to the bed. Instinctually, she patted around for her wand, before she realized exactly where it was—on her dresser in the Brownwell dormitory.

Senna dashed to the closed window, shoving the curtains aside. The landscape was unfamiliar. It was an old neighborhood, much before sidewalks and paved roads were commonplace. The houses that surrounded them were older as well, crumbling stone, blackened wood, though they still had charm.

She was no longer at Hogwarts.

"The window is sealed, you won't be able to escape from there." A low male voice came from behind her.

She whipped around. A tall young man—perhaps teenager—stood in the doorway. His dark hair was combed back neatly, and his dark eyes regarded her with mild interest. His face was absurdly handsome, he had high cheekbones and a perfectly sculpted jawline. Long lashes fanned over his dark eyes, which made his pale skin seem even whiter. He was tall with long, graceful limbs, and was wearing clothes that matched that air, perfectly tailored robe with silver linings and green stitches.

His face seemed familiar somehow, as was his posture, and the way he was looking at her with his head slightly turned. But he was a complete stranger.

He looked just like her. And she had an odd feeling in her stomach, because she thought she might know why.

"Ah, Struan." Senna composed herself, "I would say it's good to see you, but it's really not."

He smiled then, flashing a series of straight white teeth. Senna's mind was dazzled for a moment by his sheer good looks. During their message exchange, Senna's mind had sculpted an image for him in her head, where he was slimy and creepy-looking. It was shocking that he wasn't at all like she'd imagined.

"Aren't you being a little cruel?" His quiet deep voice was alluring, "I, on the other hand, have been looking forward to having you home."

"This isn't my home." Senna insisted.

"Then… where is your home?"

Senna thought about this for a moment. This was definitely a stab at her orphan status. She wasn't going to be an object of pity. "Well… an orphanage at the moment, but I'll get that sorted out. I'm doing perfectly fine."

His dark eyes measured her response for a moment. "I do appreciate that about you."

Senna just looked at him.

"You don't wallow in self pity, despite your circumstance. You don't grovel, you don't show fear. I could use a Queen like you." He continued.

"Is that so? Well, if I am not the type to grovel or bend to anyone's will, how do you expect to get me to do your bidding? Did you think about that?"

"I did, yes." The corner of his mouth was still tipped upwards in a grin. "Dad would've not approved of your personality. So.. unobedient." That last word left his mouth like a soft caress. Senna shivered in disgust. "But I'm not like him. He believed followers should fear the greatness of one's power and bow down, but I think otherwise. There is a better way of doing things." He slowly stepped towards her, his movements were graceful and held an impression of power. This surprised Senna. Teenagers were usually clumsy and awkward, but it was as if he were trained to have such a presence since the day he could walk. "You can only truly trust someone, if their most selfish desire is the same as your own. If their best interests are your best interestsyour, then you have a follower who has much to gain, and you have something to gain in return." Struan stood in front of her now. She could smell his cologne, which was actually pleasant—to her dismay.

Senna did not completely grasp his philosophy and how this related to her. He seemed to pick this up.

"Think of a friend, any friend." Struan asked her in a soft, alluring voice.

"What?" Senna asked. Tonks immediately came to mind. And then followed by Hannah and Viola.

"Now," he paused, "What is their best interest?" His dark eyes settled on her. "Perhaps protecting Hogwarts? I'm sure the blonde one just wants to pass her classes."

Senna gaped at him. How did he know about Tonks and Hannah?

And then it dawned on her.

He was a legilimens, like she was.

"Get out of my head!" Senna recoiled from his intrusive stare, trying to put a shield up in her mind. She wasn't sure if it worked, she had practiced occlumency, but never tested it on a legilimens.

"But the redhead…" Struan let the name trail off. He thought about this.

Senna's heart picked up speed. How much had he seen? She didn't want him to know about her most private memories. The idea of it made her gag.

"Perhaps she has the same desires as you." He concluded.

"And what's that?" Senna asked, unconvinced. Though she felt very unnerved. Did he see that what she desired—was most likely Senna?

"She desires power. She wants to reach her full potential as a witch." Struan's head nodded, as if very approving of this. "And that is what you want too, is it not? For yourself."

Senna shook her head in defiance, though a part of her saw the truth in his words.

"It is also what I want for you. For you to reach your full potential. That is why I gave you that book."

"So, I should trust you then?" Senna scoffed. The idea was laughable.

"Yes." He said in a soft voice, unperturbed by her mocking tone. "You should."

"Not going to happen."

"It'll take time." He said confidently.

"Don't hold your breath." Senna pretended to think. "Actually, please go ahead and hold your breath until I trust you."

Struan exhaled, he was getting exasperated with her. "They told me you had a difficult personality." He said, more to himself than Senna.

"Who told you that?"

Struan looked up at her, but did not answer. After a moment, he stood aside and gestured a pale hand towards the doorway.

Senna eyed him, and then the doorway. She hated doing as she was told, but getting to know the space outside this room would help her formulate a plan to escape.

Senna slowly walked towards the doorway, taking in her surroundings and making note of everything that could be of use to her. But there only seemed to be an assortment of old, fancy furniture. Old portraits lined the walls, filled with unfamiliar dark haired people who leered at her.

"It is not your fault. You were not taught the proper way." He said. "We can fix that."

"I'm not broken." Senna hissed.

They walked through the portrait lined hallway.

"Who's place is this?" Senna asked him.

"Ours." Struan said in a cool voice. He sounded so sure, so matter-of fact, that for a moment, even Senna believed it.

"Right." Senna shook her head, coming to her senses.

Struan led her through the hallway, passed a grand living room with white carpet and antique chairs, several closed doors, and took her into a candle lit study. The walls were lined with dark oak shelves, and old-looking books. The large wooden desk had papers strewn across it, with a familiar parchment sitting in the center of the mess.

"Is that…" Senna stepped closer to the desk. Scribbled in parseltongue were the words 'You were right'.

"Yes." Struan said, "It's the matching parchment to yours."

Senna stared at it in wonder. "I didn't write that."

Struan walked around the table, and reached for the parchment, displaying the same odd grace she noticed earlier. "But you must have."

"Well," Senna thought back to the interrogation, "I did say that. But I didn't have my wand on me. But the Aurors have the parchment now."

"I see." His absurdly handsome face was unreadable. "I figured something like that happened, considering you were found on the forest floor." He took out his wand, and Senna braced herself. She did not have her wand, but wandless magic had started coming easier to her—she could muster up something to protect herself.

But Struan turned the wand onto the parchment, and whispered in plain English, "Thank you, Scrimgeour, you've helped a lot."

Senna watched the words write themselves onto the parchment. These words did not shiver or warp the way parseltongue did.

"Who's Scrimgeour?" Senna asked.

"The Head of the Auror's office." Struan placed the parchment back down. "I just wanted to give him my gratitude, for practically sending you home."

Senna opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but he started speaking again. "You have questions." He stated. He leaned his long arms on the desk between them. The silhouette of his face against the candle light made him look like a male version of her, so Senna blinked, trying to get the image out of her mind. "I will answer three questions, that is all I have time for I'm afraid, I have a lot to do today."

"Too busy for your sister, I get it." Senna poked out of nervousness.

Struan smiled then, flashing her with his white teeth. "Your return was a bit unplanned, I am hoping you can forgive me for the brevity of our reunion, but I promise there will be more time later."

"Fine." Senna huffed. If she could find a way to escape, there would not be a 'later'. "My first question… Our mother… She's in Azkaban right now?"

"Yes." His smile faded.

"Who raised you then?"

"Several good witches and wizards, Armidian Tusk, my mentor and teacher. Narcissa Malfoy played a big part, well, her sister Bellatrix is our Godmother, but she's in Azkaban too," His frown grew, as if this were a bigger disappointment than own his mother being in Azkaban, "The Malfoys also provided me a servant, who's been tending to me for a few years now."

"One more question, my love, and I must tend to some… business."

Senna cringed at his pet name for her. But she thought it best not to make a snide remark. Instead she wracked her brain for another question, "Where are you going right now?"

"But not that one." He said kindly. "You see, I don't know if I can trust you yet. That will come with time though, do not fret."

His sweet and gentlemanly way of talking was starting to become annoying.

"Okay then, how long do you plan on keeping me here? The Triwizard Tournament is a binding contract. I have to go."

"Yes, indeed you do. But we have some time before that starts, no?"

Senna ground her teeth. There were two weeks before the tournament. That answered her question.

"Alright, love." He walked around the desk and towards the door. Senna watched his movement carefully. "I'll show you to the maid, she will be taking care of you while I'm out." Senna followed him, watching his back with interest. He had prominent shoulders. Senna could imagine, if he were at Hogwarts, girls would fawn over him in a heartbeat. When they reached the living room, surrounded with velvet covered living chairs, he motioned for her to sit down.

"Rina!" He called.

A tall girl appeared from around the corner. "Yes, Master?"

Her hair was very straight and very blonde, which fell to her waist, bangs fell right above her stone grey eyes, and she was very pretty. Senna suddenly felt inadequate. Everyone in the household seemed to be ridiculously good-looking. She wore a tidy maid outfit, which Senna thought was amusing. She never thought they made people wear those outfits in real life.

Senna probably stuck out like a sore thumb with her messy hair and wrinkled pajamas.

"This is Rina, she'll tend to your needs while I'm away." Struan pulled out a gold pocket watch, "I must get going."

"It's nice to meet you, Princess." The perfect blonde fell forward as she bowed.

"Er… Yeah." Senna muttered, embarrassed.

He strode to the door, then paused. "And please try to behave yourself, love. I know you are good at escaping, but you won't be able to leave here until I allow it. This place is well guarded." And then he opened the door and walked through it.

A beat of awkward silence passed. Senna looked over at Rina, who promptly bowed again when their eyes met.

'She looks just like him. Her beauty is just as striking too.' Rina thought.

Senna scoffed internally. Senna had to admit her brother was rather handsome. She knew what people thought of her looks as well, but she couldn't bring herself to believe she was in the same league as that.

"Enough bowing. You don't need to bow for me. At all. For anything." Senna ordered.

Rina's posture immediately straightened. "Yes, Princess."

"Ugh, and don't call me princess. Just call me Senna."

"Of course, Master Senna."

Senna gave a sigh of exasperation. "Just. Senna."

'Oh, but the Prince would have my head if I called his Princess so informally…'

Senna winced when she heard her thoughts, she was not his. But she bit her tongue. She didn't want this girl to know she was a legilimens like Struan. Careless thoughts from her could be the key to escaping. Afterall, she knew this place better than she did.

Senna plopped down on the velvet couch. "Talk to me." Senna gestured to the opposite couch.

The blonde hesitated for a moment. A flurry of anxious thoughts passed through her mind before she tentatively took a seat in front of Senna.

"Don't worry, I don't bite."

'Oh but she doesn't know I'm a squib, the dark prince hasn't told her. She'll be disgusted with me when she finds out, like everyone else.' She nodded expressionlessly, but a bead of sweat started to form on her perfect temple, giving her nervousness away.

"So… Who are you?" Senna smiled at her, trying to be friendly.

"My name is Carina. I serve the Dark Prince in all the ways that I can. I will also serve you as best I can." Rina nearly bowed again, but remembered Senna's request for her not to bow, so her head bobbed unceremoniously.

"Carina what?"

Rina's cheeks turned pink. She was rather cute. Senna heard from her thoughts that Rina was not supposed to mention her surname, and her relation to the Malfoy family. Her existence was too shameful, she wasn't supposed to associate with them. But she couldn't blow off a direct question from the Princess.

"Carina Malfoy."

"Malfoy huh?" Senna pondered, "Are you related to the Draco kid at Hogwarts?"

Images of Draco fluttered through her mind, as well as images of his—no—their parents, Lucious and Narcissa Malfoy. They were definitely related. Siblings.

"Yes." She squeaked, "Technically, we are related. But I am not considered a daughter of the Malfoy family." Her voice was quiet now, ashamed.

"Why is that?" Senna knew why. The answer was clear in her mind. She was a squib, a hidden and shameful secret of the Malfoy family.

"I—I am a squib." She as if this explained it. It did, sadly. It was well known that squibs were often exiled or forced to integrate into muggle society. But Senna couldn't see why it was such a big deal. She really didn't understand the whole 'magic superiority' thing. "My deepest apologies." She bowed then, unable to resist the urge.

"Um, why are you apologizing? You are what you are."

Rina straightened up, trying to bite back another apology.

"I didn't know that Draco kid had a sister. Well, we have that in common, most of the world didn't know about me either." Senna chucked at the irony. "Younger or older?"

"Older. I am nineteen. Master Draco is fourteen."

"Oh man, does it suck to call your little brother Master?"

Rina bit her lip, but did not answer. Her thoughts were wordless, but Senna could still interpret it. Rina saw the injustice of it, just because she was not born a witch she was ranked less than Draco, less that the scum found on the bottom of one's shoe.

"I was dumped at a muggle orphanage though." Senna added. "I wonder what stopped them from doing the same to you. No offence..."

Rina looked up at her, speechless, making strong eye contact with her for the first time since they met. "Really?"

Rina wouldn't dare pry, but Senna knew she was curious, so she continued. "Yup. I didn't know I was a witch until five years ago, but I always knew I was different. A week ago, I didn't know I was related to your Prince." Rina was captivated. It felt good to tell someone about her history. She never even told Snape or Viola about her life as an orphan. "It was an awful place, always starving, nearly got myself beaten to death several times. I kind of wonder which life is worse, being free there, or being a slave here. But either way... we seem to be a slave to circumstance. I'm sure it would've been just as miserable if I ended up growing up in the wizarding world."

Rina didn't say anything. Senna heard the wheels turning in her head. The shadow world had been whispering about her arrival for weeks, and Rina had assumed that Senna would be a lot like Struan—noble, spoiled, and prejudiced. But Senna was not at all what she expected. Senna was more like Rina, an underdog.

"I don't envy you, Rina. But I don't pity you either." Senna told her. Then she stood up. She wasn't sure where she was going, but she wasn't going to keep talking to the maid if she was just going to sit there and not say anything.

Rina stood up as well, "C—can i get you anything, Pri—Senna?" Rina asked frantically. "Tea? Breakfast? A hot bath?"

Senna looked down at her crinkled pajamas. "A bath would actually be nice right now."

"Of course, please have a seat. I will prepare the bath and when you get out, I'll have breakfast ready for you."

Senna sat down and watched the pretty maid speed-walk down the hall. Senna sighed. This was actually nice, someone waiting on her hand and foot… but this wasn't really Senna. This was for a fake and entitled society of witches and wizards that believed they were better than everyone else. She hoped to see that world disappear from reality.

Senna took in the doors and the windows. Making a list in her head of all the charms that could possibly keep her trapped here, and then making another mental list of the counterspells.

Rina returned after a few minutes, and led her to a large bathroom with burning candles and a large cast iron tub.

Rina gestured to the clean clothes, a robe, and a fluffy towel on the counter, "These are for you, S—Senna." She said, still uncomfortable calling her by name.

"Thanks."

Senna settled into the tub. It was nice. But it all still felt surreal, like she was in some sort of parallel reality.

She had to think of a way to get out of here, without a wand. She had originally thought of stealing someone's, but she was alone here with a squib.

As promised, Rina had food ready for her after the bath.

"Wow," Senna exclaimed as the dining table came into view, "This actually looks good."

Rina nearly bowed again, but stopped herself, "Hope it is to your liking."

Senna could tell from her thoughts that she was still nervous around her.

"Thanks a lot!"

Rina turned to leave, so Senna spoke to her. "Does anyone else live here?" Senna asked innocently.

"Um, not permanently. But Master Tusk and Lady Malfoy come by often. As well as others who work closely with Master Riddle."

"I see…" Senna pondered this for a moment. "Any way we can take a walk after brunch? It's getting a bit… stuffy in here."

Rina's cheeks turned pink once more. She knew Senna was trying to find a way to escape, and Rina pitied her. "I'm so sorry, Pri—Senna, the doors are magically sealed, we cannot leave unless Master Riddle allows it."

"I see." Senna said again.

After brunch Senna made her way to the bedroom. She stopped at the leering painting. There were several dark-haired individuals she did not recognize. One with wavy dark brown hair, and a very handsome face. And a woman with jet black hair. Her face was paler and more angular than his, more severe features. She was still pretty, but the man standing next to her was far more handsome. The woman's eyes were striking, not because they were jet black, but because there was an unspoken misery that spilled from them. Whoever this woman was, she was not happy at all. She looked very young too, no older than Senna.

There was an odd distance between these two. They stood two feet apart, no signs of intimacy or love. The woman was leaning away from the man, unable to completely hide her fear of him. It was more like a company photograph, where the employees hated their employer.

Senna had a feeling she knew who these people were. Their parents, perhaps. The woman looked a great deal like Professor Snape. But she struggled to see her likeness in either of these people. She and Struan didn't seem to resemble either one of them to a great extent, instead they were a combination. She and Struan carried themselves like the confident and powerful man in the photograph, they had Elena's thinner and delicate face, but Voldemort's perfect jawline. They had the woman's jet-black hair, but the man's long and sweeping lashes.

An odd feeling churned in the center of Senna's stomach. She wasn't sure what she was feeling, but it made time drag out painfully slow.

Senna's feet dragged across the carpet as she made her way to the bedroom.

She had to escape this place, somehow.

Thanks for reading!

And thank you Marah and Angel for leaving a kind review!