Chapter Sever: A Visitor
I remained in a state of supreme discomposure minutes later, when Snape's bright-eyed house elf blipped unceremoniously into the room. In her arms was a round silver platter, the sort that I thought belonged at a catering event, loaded down with a larger amount of food than I had seen all summer.
"Master Snape would like you to eat as much as you desire, miss. Tethys can make more food at your request. And Master Snape asked Tethys to give you these," she trilled, though my thoughts were elsewhere.
Ignoring the elf, I brought my fingers to my lips… I could still taste his mouth on mine; could still feel the tingling sensation he'd left behind. My heartrate continued thrumming at a pace that made my head feel light and airy. Even after just a few hours of being back in his presence, I was already desperate to be wrapped in his arms.
Tethys said something else and was shoving cold glass into my hands. I made a noise that sounded like "huh?" and blinked at her confusedly.
"Essence of Dittany," she said, closing my fingers around the bottles. "And a Sleeping Draught. A few drops of dittany on your wounds will prevent some scarring, miss. Do you wish for Tethys to apply it for you?"
"Oh," I said stupidly, shaking my head as though I could actually jerk my senses back into place. "Right. No, I can do it. Thank you."
Her grin expanded to an implausible width. "Certainly, miss. It's Tethys' pleasure to serve Master's guests. Master Snape also requested for Tethys to return these to you."
My mind slammed back down to Earth at once. Outstretched in a pair of leathery hands was a wand made of Holly and a lacy, beaded maroon purse. "My wand! My bag! But how did he get these!?" I said, exultant as I snatched them from her grasp. My wand was humming with joy to be back in my possession.
Tethys' large eyes sparkled. "Master Snape is talented. Master was very certain this would please you, miss."
"No kidding," I said in awe, opening my bag. "Accio hairbrush!" The purple handle popped into my grip abruptly. I was positively giddy. "I can use magic again!"
The house elf smiled at me in the way of a mother watching the excitement of her child on Christmas morning. "You must eat now, miss. You should also know that the restroom is there - " she indicated at the gray door to the side of the bed, " – and Tethys has prepared the linens so you may get a good night's rest, miss, with the help of Master's Sleeping Draught."
I nodded, only half attentive to her ramblings as I rummaged through my purse. With another reminder to call her name if I needed anything, Tethys Disapparated.
By the time I laid down to sleep – satiated, bathed, and in clean clothing - the clock on the wall was outlined with four points of starlight around a wholly black circle – 4:00 AM. The bed was extraordinarily comfortable (although my most recent measures of comparison left a lot to be desired), and I was feeling more human than I had in weeks, so I first tried to find sleep without the draught. Though I had fallen into unconsciousness with nothing but that kiss in my thoughts, the nightmares replaced it quickly and ferociously, swirling like a kaleidoscope the moment I closed my eyes: Arawn cackling, kneeling over me, slicing my skin apart with his white hot wand tip, submerging me in water, lighting bits of my clothing on fire, screaming curse after curse after curse… I woke, panting, soaked through in sweat, and scrambling for my wand, only to remind myself again and again that I was safe in Snape's house.
Without a second thought, I immediately reached for the swirling purple liquid at my bedside. In three gulps, the bottle was emptied, and I knew nothing but blissful blackness for so many hours that when I awakened, four new platters of food had been laid out across the table.
To my utter dismay, Snape was nowhere to be found. Almost immediately, I called for Tethys, who appeared bearing yet another tray of steaming food. She seemed genuinely delighted that I was up and looking so well, and of course insisted on serving me a meal at once. As she made up a plate, I couldn't help but question her as to when I could expect Snape to return.
"Master has said to be rest assured that he will return as soon as he is able. Master is very busy indeed," she said, frowning deeply, her large hazel eyes locked on butter-yellow mashed potatoes as she served me far too many spoonfuls. "Tethys is certain he will see you again soon. Would you like anything more to eat, miss? Desert?"
A chasm opened up in my chest. "No, thank you," I said wistfully, pretending to poke at the food but instead lost in thought. Didn't he come home every day at some point? Where did he sleep, if not at home? And did he think he had to stay somewhere else because I was here, or was he simply so wrapped up in maintaining his appearance as Voldemort's follower that he was off doing Death-Eater-things… whatever those things may have been.
My mood didn't improve much over the next several days, as Snape had not so much as sent me an owl. Though being in his home made me feel somehow closer to him, I found myself missing him more and more each day. I tried not to take my poor demeanor out on Tethys, who went out of her way to ensure I had all the comforts and beyond of a normal life. I was very thankful for her company. When she wasn't busy cooking or cleaning, she was happy to help occupy my time with games of Wizard's Chess, Troll In My Casserole, and Guess the Wizard.
Most mornings, Tethys was kind enough to bring me a copy of the Daily Prophet with breakfast. Last year, Ginny had cautioned me against trusting the news from that particular paper; I had dismissed her concerns, believing that, while it probably skirted around reality at times, most of the information was still worth knowing. Now, however, I had to wonder whether Death Eaters themselves were writing the articles.
"They're trying to blame this on Harry!?" I yelped testily one morning as Tethys handed me the day's issue. She jumped slightly in alarm, her good ear flattening back against her head. "Sorry! But have you seen this nonsense!" Tethys merely shrugged. This was typical - she had a tendency of avoiding any discussions related to 'the Chosen One.'
More than half of the front page was taken up by a shaggy-haired and waspish-looking Harry, below a bold headline that read 'WANTED FOR QUESTIONING ABOUT THE DEATH OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE.' I'd had to re-read the headline four times before the insinuation sank in. No longer feeling up to my yogurt and omelet breakfast, I scrutinized the accompanying article.
'…Sources report that moments after Albus Dumbledore's body was seen falling from the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts School, none other than the headmaster's most beloved and favoured student, Harry Potter, was seen fleeing from the scene of the crime.
One spectator, who will remain unnamed as to protect him/her from Potter's rage, gave a detailed account.
'I couldn't believe my eyes. I saw something falling from the tower, and at first I thought it was an old cloak or something. But then he hit the ground and it was awful, and out the front doors comes Potter. It was obvious straight away to anyone who witnessed it – he was trying to escape! But Potter must've realized he'd been caught, and made up some lies to spread around about Snape killing Dumbledore. Potter always hated Snape, of course, everyone knew it - Snape was the only one who never put up with Potter's high-and-mighty attitude - so it was a perfect story to spin to get himself out of trouble and get revenge on Snape.'
To many, it is not surprising that Potter is heading down this violent path. Several of his peers have shared with the Daily Prophet that, ever since his first year at Hogwarts, the headmaster placed Potter on a pedestal, granting him unprecedented special treatment. Some have questioned whether Potter's magical ability it truly something to be respected, or if it is merely the illusion created by his mentor's favouritism. This may serve to explain Potter's blatant disregard for school rules with little to no repercussions over the course of his education – including, but not limited to, allegedly petrifying a number of students during his second year and participating in the Triwizard Tournament at the age of fourteen, despite the age restriction of seventeen.
All the more incriminating is the fact that Potter has refused to turn himself in for questioning on the matter of Dumbledore's death, and remains on the run from Ministry Officials to date. Agents from the Ministry have requested the public's cooperation in apprehending Potter: if you have any information on his whereabouts, or think you have seen the elusive Mr Potter, please contact the Ministry by owl or by visiting the location posted below. Though justice is, in fact, its own reward, as an added incentive, our esteemed new Minister of Magic, Mister Pius Thicknesse, has offered a reward of 10,000 Galleons – that's right folks, ten thousand Galleons – to anyone who assists in the successful arrest of Harry Potter.
What really happened that night on the tower? Had Dumbledore had enough of Potter's insubordination once and for all? Or did the power finally get to Potter's head? Either way, it seems clear: 'The Boy Who Lived' should be re-dubbed 'The Boy Who Killed.''
I chewed on the inside of my cheek, feeling outraged. So this was the Voldemort's newest, desperate ploy to get to Harry. Would anyone actually fall for this? Couldn't anyone with a fraction of a brain cell see through these childish tricks?
What I found inside the paper only served to further inflame the churning sensation that had started in my stomach. On page two, above an ad for Mumpsimus' Muggle-Be-Gone Security Mixture ('safeguard your magic from dangerous Muggles today! Just place three drops on the back of each earlobe every morning for guaranteed protection against the Muggles attempting to steal your Merlin-given magical abilities!') was the headline 'NEWLY ESTABLISHED MUGGLE-BORN REGISTRATION COMMISSION IMPLEMENTS MUCH-NEEDED SYSTEM FOR TRACKING AND SURVEYING SO-CALLED 'MUGGLE-BORNS.'' The article that followed accused Muggle-borns of stealing their magic from wizards or witches, and stated that anyone without proof of wizarding ancestry must submit themselves for questioning and registration. "Or, more likely, murder," I said aloud with a scoff. "Unbelievable. Magic can't be stolen! Honestly…"
I flipped another page, spotting a final headline of interest to me opposite a page with a feature on Dumbledore's biography. 'MINISTRY ANNOUNCES COMPULSORY ATTENDANCE AT HOGWARTS SCHOOL FOR ALL YOUNG WITCHES AND WIZARDS.' A curse escaped my mouth. If Voldemort truly had control of the school as Arawn had said, making attendance mandatory put a large majority of the wizarding population at his disposal. He would have power over the students and their parents, assuming that most parents would do as they are told if the lives of their children were threatened.
"Is everything alright, miss?" asked Tethys as I balled up the periodical and launched it across the room at the fireplace. My aim had been excellent, the paper catching fire and turning to cinders on contact.
"Er… yeah…" I said moodily. "Ah, good! You found it."
From thin air, Tethys had materialized a burgundy leatherbound book. The front was blank, but impressed into the spine was the silver title, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.
Tethys handed me the thick text with a feverish nod. The cover was splitting apart at the binding, the leather peeling back to expose the brown cardboard that was encased within. I'd been reading through quite a bit of Snape's library, mostly for entertainment, but I'd wanted this particular book for different reasons.
"Of course, miss. Master's library is very…" Tethys' words cut mid-thought, her face sagging into uneasiness as her unbroken ear twitched back and forth. She dropped to the floor and pressed it against the wood boards.
"What is it? What's wrong," I asked, lowering my own ear the floor and trying to hear whatever it was that had made her eyes go even wider than their usual snitch-sized state.
The elf began visibly quivering. "He is here," she whispered fearfully. "The One Who Must Not Be Named… he is here…"
My head went light as bumps raised across the surface of my skin. "Vol-" I stopped myself at the dagger Tethys threw at me with her glare. "You-Know-Who… is here?! But I don't hear anything." I forced my ear into the floorboards even harder, closing my eyes in hopes of discerning something.
Tethys reached out a wrinkled finger and touched it to the top of my forehead. A voice that was not my own intruded into my thoughts, as loud and clear as though it belonged to someone who was standing in the same room. My stomach stiffened.
"…find the wandmaker, Gregorovich. Ollivander believes it is he who possesses the Elder Wand; a wand with power matched by no other. Rumors place him somewhere in Schiltach, so it seems I will be traveling abroad for a while," said a chilling voice, each drawn-out syllable hissed in way that reminded me strongly of a snake.
"Schiltach, my Lord?" This second voice came in Snape's unmistakable dulcet tones.
"Yes, in Germany. You are Lord Voldemort's most faithful servant, Severus. In my absence, I expect it is you who will be keeping a watchful eye on my loyal followers. You who will ensure that all goes as planned as our young witches and wizards return to a new, reformed Hogwarts School."
I scoffed incredulously. 'New' and 'reformed' probably translated to 'Muggle-born-free' with a 'Muggle-denouncing curriculum.'
"Of course," said Snape appealingly. "And what of the staff who resist your will? Surely, we can expect much opposition."
"Do as you see fit, Severus. I think we can assume that they will not resist for long if the lives of the students are at risk," Voldemort said slowly.
There was a pause so lengthy that I wondered if Tethys' elf magic had stopped working. Then the sibilant voice continued. "Your loyalty is admirable as always, Severus. Soon, I will return with the Elder Wand, and I will use it to kill Harry Potter. And at last Lord Voldemort will show all of wizardkind what true power is." There was another lapse, and then, "did Travers speak to you about the girl?" My heart jumped.
"The girl, my Lord?" Snape's tone betrayed nothing.
"Yes, the one you believed may lead us to Harry Potter. It seems she has somehow escaped, along with her wand, which was well hidden. It is… implausible that she could have managed it on her own; only a Death Eater could have surpassed the security on Travers' home. It would appear that we have a traitor in our midst, Severus. Be ever cautious, there are so few who we can truly trust. If the girl returns to Hogwarts this year – and she will return - Travers should leave her to her schooling for the moment. She may serve as useful to us yet."
"I understand, my Lord."
Tethys ended the connection and sat up, looking sullen.
"He knows… he knows a Death Eater helped me to escape..." I whispered, and I found I was now struggling to swallow. Voldemort's icy voice had chilled me to the bones.
"Please miss," said Tethys, and I must have been turning ever-lightening shades of white because she ambled over to me and placed a consoling hand on my shoulder. "Do not worry yourself. Master Snape will be sure that you are safe. Master plans for you to stay here, not return to Hogwarts School."
"What!?" I shouted, unintentionally directing my agitation at her. Up until that moment, I hadn't honestly thought much into the upcoming school year. But suddenly, the idea of not going back… of hiding here while Snape was out there putting himself in constant danger… flared up a fresh surge of panic in my chest.
I felt a pang of guilt as Tethys retracted her hand, backing away from me slightly. "Hogwarts School will not be the same this year, miss. It will be dangerous. It is better for you to stay here, with Tethys."
"No way, it's too much of a risk. If I'm discovered here it'll only be worse for him. And now Volde – oh, would you relax – You-Know-Who knows that one of his followers helped me escape. I can't take the chance… and at least, at Hogwarts, maybe I can do some good. Besides, you saw the article. Attendance is mandatory."
"If you go back, miss, you risk being tortured again. The-One-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is capable of horrific things…" she wringed the edge of her makeshift shirt so tightly that her silverish fingers turned even duller. "Master Snape has told Tethys of the things he has done… the things he plans to do…"
"I'm not a coward, Tethys. I'm completely aware of those things. Which is all the more reason that I need to go back. I need to be there for my friends. I need to be there with Snape. I need to be there to fight back," I said decidedly.
The little elf's eyes were wider than ever. "You are brave, miss."
I smiled and gave her a gentle pat between her ears. "That's right. And that's why the hat put me in Gryffindor."