Chapter 5
Alive. Derbyshire.
The note had arrived ten minutes earlier, attached to the foot of a haughty-looking grey owl. Despite the unsigned, urgent scribble, she recognized the elegant writing instantly, the refined swashes instilled too deeply inside him by hours of penmanship to be forgotten. Regulus' note was brief, yet it gave her all she needed.
Hope.
She threw away her pyjama to jump into black pants, slipped on a t-shirt. Grasped her aspen wand laying on her dresser while shoving the rest of her juicy roast beef sandwich inside her mouth.
No time to waste.
Grabbing her mutton-lined jean jacket, Selene disapparated from her parent's home with a crack.
Potter residence was as welcoming as usual, Christmas lights adorning the chequered windows, fresh snow glittering under the moonlight. An enchantment, no doubt. It hadn't snowed in the South once since Selene had left the castle ten days ago. Carefully trimmed cedar hedges flew past her vision as she strode toward the manor, the wards rippling at her approach.
She pounded on the door with an iron fist.
Flaming red hair welcomed her. "Selene!"
"Is Remus here?"
She walked past Lily to enter the house, her manners long forgotten.
"In the kitchen. What's going on? Did something happen?"
The four Marauders sat at the kitchen island, empty boxes of fish and chip from the town's shop discarded in a corner, red and white paper stained with grease. Peter waved with a grin, nibbling on the remaining fries, while James exchanged a long glance with his girlfriend. Selene didn't blame them: it was the fourth time she'd barged into Potter Manor since Dorcas was taken, and once again, she felt out of breath before even opening her mouth.
"Dorcas' alive."
James nodded. "We haven't lost hope. You know the Order is looking into this, Lena."
"No—No you don't get it." She ruffled through her pockets, frantic. Where did she put that damn thing? "She's alive, which means she's been held for ten days with probably nothing to eat and maybe getting tortured and who knows what else they've done to her so we need to leave now, it isn't far if we apparate now."
Blank eyes stared back at her as she panted, her tongue thick in her parched mouth. She took a deep breath. Slowed down.
"A note. I got a damn note." She slapped the paper on the clean white surface for everyone to see. "Dorcas is still alive."
Everyone rushed closer. "Derbyshire. They haven't moved her," Sirius said, astounded. "She was patrolling in Little Hangleton when she disappeared."
"Unclear," James commented. "Voldemort has other strongholds in the county."
Remus pursed his lips, deep in thoughts. "Transporting prisoners is a hassle. It's risky. I think she's still there."
Selene buttoned her jacket. "Good. Let's go."
Sirius jumped to his feet, gulping the rest of his cup, and Remus nodded, patting his pockets for his wand. Both James and Lily would come along if the others were determined enough. But it was Peter, strangely, who hadn't moved, eying the note with visible distrust.
"Who sent you this?"
"A source." She hid the paper in her pocket before Sirius took a closer look and recognized the handwriting. "Why?"
"Can we trust them? I mean, this could be a trap."
She locked eyes with Peter, then flicked them briefly to Remus. "I trust them."
Partly. She didn't believe Regulus had the guts to set up a trap for her, or anything else that might endanger her sister and therefore hurt Selene. Despite not having parted on good terms, she could see the truth for what it was: Regulus' cruelness had never extended to her.
She tried not to think about it. She tried not to think about him at all.
James exchanged a glance with Peter, lines on their brows. Sirius attached his hair with a string of leather, making sure his wand was free to be used, ready to fight. Lily finally sighed, breaking the tensed silence.
"That's not our call to make either way. I'll send a patronus to Moody."
Twenty minutes later, the auror had taken a seat around the quartz kitchen island, examining the note between callused fingers. She resisted the urge to snatch it back, afraid he might tear it. They were wasting so much time; she fidgeted with her fingers, tapping her nails on the back of Remus' chair as Moody's frown deepened.
"Who sent you this note, girl?"
"Does it matter? It says all we need to know."
"VIGILANCE!" he bellowed, and she jumped. Used to Moody's demeanour, no one else had even jerked in the slightest. His thick index poked at the fine paper. "I agree with Pettigrew and Potter on this. I think it's a trap and they're all waiting for us there."
"If they wanted to annihilate the Order, they would have sent this note to you. Or Dumbledore. A friend sent this to me. They want me to do something."
"It's simple, Meadowes. Tell me who sent it, and I'll reconsider."
All gazes fell to her, hungry. Who was that trusted source she wouldn't reveal, even with her sister's life on the line? Remus' face expressed mere curiosity; once again, she was grateful for his impartiality and his talent at keeping secrets.
Revealing Regulus' name would set them down a path none of them wanted to follow. Blach had made his intentions clear: he had no interest in joining the Order of the Phoenix and renouncing to his title. By admitting he helped her, she'd force him to do exactly that. Moody would try to recruit him, might even take advantage of their previous relationship to have Selene play the negotiator. He'd do everything to have a double agent in Voldemort ranks, something that would likely have Regulus killed. And Sirius… Sirius would go nuts if he learned what his baby brother had done. He'd never recover from leaving him behind in that wretched house.
"I won't betray them."
"Betray them?" His eyes narrowed, watchful. "A friend in Voldemort's ranks? Whose side are you on, girl?" The question of the year, apparently.
"Is the Order helping me or not?"
He shook his head. "It's too risky. We need to consult the others at the council."
Then she wasn't on the Order's side. That simple.
She snatched the note from Moody's hand and shoved it inside her jacket's pocket. "Alright, do it your way."
Peter glanced at his shoes, avoiding her furious gaze. He hated arguing with her. James and Lily watched in pity, but Sirius' deception was the only genuine one, having swayed on his toes since she had arrived. He clearly disagreed with the auror's decision. Looking at Remus would only stop her from doing what needed to be done, so she stormed past him without a goodbye.
Bloody Remus and his acute sense of observation…
"Selene, wait!"
He left the others debating in the kitchen with Moody, following her across the living room to the main entrance. She turned and noted Lily had also followed them.
"Don't go there alone. We need to think this through."
"She's been captive for ten days, Remus. Ten days!" Her fingers squeezed the brass door handle. Why couldn't they understand the absolute urgency of the situation? "It's a miracle she's still alive. They'll kill her when they realize they can't break her and you know it."
"I do! But you can't simply barge in there. We need to make a plan, think things through. Get other people on board. It's not as simple as rescuing her, it's a whole operation, an open attack on Voldemort."
"What if the Order decides she's not worth the risks?"
Remus fell silent, Lily's gaze shooting between the two of them. For the first time since she'd arrived, Selene noticed the gigantic diamond sitting on her left hand. Potter must have proposed at Christmas, since Lily hadn't worn a ring the last time she'd came here. It suited her well.
Tears stung the back of her eyes. Although her life had paused ten days ago, didn't mean the planet had stopped spinning. A calm feeling loneliness eased her doubts as she walked outside, the crisp air numbing her anger. Neither Remus nor Lily stopped her, and she was thankful for it.
The fake snow crunched under her feet as she walked away, its dampness soaking her socks through. She should have worn boots. After all, she was going to war. Sneakers would have to do.
"You'll jeopardize him, Selene!" Remus yelled from the porch as a last resort. "Voldemort will find out he was betrayed. He'll kill him!"
It almost made her stop. Almost.
But it didn't.
The snow in Little Hangleton had nothing to do with the pure, white fluff of Potter Manor. Grey and wet, it sloshed under her feet as she explored the little town, hidden by a disillusionment charm. A few cars rushed past her on the High Street, splashing dirty water on her pants. She stepped into a puddle.
It took less than an hour to find what she sought. Dark magic felt intrusive, and despite not understanding the cause, Muggles could often sense its presence. A single conversation helped her pinpoint which area in town citizens avoided diligently. Basic legilimency gave her a good idea of what the manor looked like, and without forgetting to obliviate the poor woman walking home from the grocery store with heavy bags, Selene disapparated.
Even by visualizing the location inside her mind, apparating somewhere new presented several challenges. She could miss the location whatsoever or splinch herself. Worse, she could remain stuck in the spatial limbos between places if her visualization wasn't precise enough. In other circumstances, Selene might have walked from the village to the manor directly, but the house was a few kilometres away, and she feared what might happen on the silent, lonely walk there.
She'd turn back.
So Selene apparated instead, trusting her instincts to get to Voldemort's hideout. Alone, she had greater odds at exploring the property without being discovered. She'd sneak in, grab Dorcas, then sneak out again, hopefully without meeting anyone. Especially not him.
Well, that was the initial plan.
But either too jittery or unknowledgeable of the location, she apparated too close to the imposing manor, barely a few hundred meters away, at the border of the small woods behind the property. Woods—which unfortunately for her—were crawling with patrolling Death Eaters, who, in the silent winter night, heard the crack of her apparition all too well.
"What's that?"
She braced herself to leave, but an intrusive coldness prevented her from apparating away. An anti-apparition charm.
Well, fuck.
Selene crouched behind a large trunk; eyes stuck to the patrolling men searching for the source of the sound. They wore long black robes, their face hidden by intricate silver masks laced with swirls of white that caught the moonlight.
They separated to scan the woods for this intruder, wands out. Despite her disillusionment charm, the closest one spotted her imprints in the fresh snow and whisked his wand through the wind. He'd find her soon enough, hear the staggered breathing flowing through her parted lips.
"Finite."
Selene didn't wait for her concealment to fade away into the night. She ran in the opposite direction, away from the manor and Dorcas.
Someone shouted and they all followed.
From what she guessed, at least three people were chasing her, throwing red hexes at her. Not to harm, but to stun. To capture intruders on sight. Damn it. She jumped over a fallen tree. Her right sneaker slipped on the frozen ground at the landing, sending her to the ground as red lights flashed around her. She turned, wand out.
"Depulso!"
One pursuer was thrown backwards, as if an invisible elastic cord hooked to their spine had stretched to its limit. The two others watched their companion being swallowed by darkness, the distraction all she needed to start running again.
Light dimmed; the further she went, the gloomier the woods became. More than once, she stumbled aside to avoid a tree she hadn't seen, breaking her precious momentum. They were catching up on her. A red light crashed into a tree beside her, illuminating the way forward just enough to prepare for the drop.
With a splash, Selene landed in a shallow stream. The broken ice sliced her ankles, but they'd get her if she stopped, so she gritted her teeth together and climbed uphill, where finally, she had an advantage. She spun. It took three spells, but another Death Eater fell and didn't rise again.
The remaining one didn't spare a glance for his fallen colleague. He strutted to her, purposeful but unhurried, bowing with such elegance it betrayed the pureness of his blood. The Gryffindor found herself back at Hogwarts' duelling club, where she had refused to bow before Avery. The man before her wasn't him; significantly older by the grey of his hair, he could have been Avery's father. He chuckled, noting the shaking grip on her wand.
"Where are these manners?" he asked in a taunting voice.
The moment she'd take her eyes off him, he'd stun her. Selene wasn't naïve. So, she did the most opportunistic, Slytherin thing she'd ever done: she attacked him while his guard was low, waiting for her to bow.
"Stupefy! Glacius!"
He deflected the spells easily, as fast as a flying snitch, but his distraction gave her the few seconds she needed to run away again.
He swore as he set off in pursuit, still panting. Her eyes had gotten used to the dark by now, so it was easier to avoid trees and obstacle. She leaped over a dug hole, landing in soft, knee-high snow that slowed her momentum. Selene cursed her bloody wet sneakers again, melting a path forward with a powerful Incendio spell that must have been seen from the manor.
Farther and farther behind her, the footsteps slowed. Selene was an athlete; she could keep the same pace for at least several kilometres. She pushed on, thighs aching. Perhaps the older Death Eater was getting tired, unused to running such long distances.
Only a few more minutes. Then he'd be far enough for her to apparate without being hexed, and she'll take a few hours to recuperate. And come back before dawn.
She took the gamble to look over her shoulder; the Death Eater had stopped several meters away. The relieved smile that flashed on her mouth disappeared fast when something else moved in her peripheral.
"Get her!"
Thanks to their dark outfit, she barely had time to notice the additional Death Eaters before they started throwing spells at her at the other's command. They must have been patrolling this area, and the pursuing man had pushed her straight to them. Clever.
She dodged, but she was outnumbered and surrounded in the open. A red lightning brushed her ribs.
She'd get caught. That much was clear.
Selene shoved a hand into her pocket, lighting Regulus' note with a touch of her index. Just like she'd practice during the holidays with her cigarettes. It burned her hip.
And a bright red light struck her unconscious.
Selene woke up in a cell.
She'd been thrown on the floor like garbage, in one dirty corner of the room. Humidity pierced through her soaked clothes and dragged displeasing shivers out of her. Fire had burnt a hole through her jacket, but one of them must have splashed her with Aguamenti when she got captured. A gamble she had no choice to make to prevent them from finding Regulus' note. If they wanted her alive, they'd save her.
The Gryffindor forced her breath to remain calm.
Wiping the dirt from her face, she pushed herself upright and scanned her surroundings. Moonlight still shone outside the small crass window; meaning she had been unconscious for a few hours at most. The empty room was deprived of contrivances, furniture. No bed. No toilet. No water.
They didn't intend to keep her for long.
Panic gripped her, then. It choked her throat with a metal gauntlet, merciless, and even if Selene knew she had to keep a cool head to make rational decisions, she couldn't temper the utter sense of helplessness washing over her. They'd taken her wand. Her bloody, soaked sneakers. Soon, someone would come to assess the threat she posed and who sent her.
She hoped Regulus had added her name to that damn list, otherwise she was as good as dead.
She paced the room for what seemed like hours, listening to the sounds coming from outside. Once or twice, she heard the regular footsteps of someone patrolling the area, making sure the prisoners hadn't escaped. Perhaps Dorcas was just next door. If she screamed, would her sister hear her? She kicked the heavy metal door instead, but it didn't bulge.
Voices interrupted her escaping schemes, and footsteps stopped right by the door, which was flung open.
Two masked individuals came first, followed by a tall woman who was high-ranked enough in Voldemort's army for not needing to hide her identity. Black circled her heavy-lidded eyes, her blood-red lips pinched in annoyance as she strutted inside the cell. The woman radiated power and magical prowess, and she looked down at her like she was nothing but an insect to crush.
"Who are you?"
Selene bit her tongue to stop herself from answering. Fuck, she wasn't trained for this. Not like everyone else in the order who had received specific instructions on how to conduct themselves under captivity. The woman cocked her head, a mountain cat analysing its dinner.
"You think you're all brave, refusing to talk, isn't it?" she laughed, nothing joyful in the shrill sound. Hair rose on Selene's arms. "Young, bright and stupid. Still at Hogwarts, I'm guessing?" The woman jerked her head towards the masked bodyguards. "Bring me one of our newest recruits. They'll know who she is."
They both exited, leaving Selene in the woman's company alone. Fear trickled down her spine, leaving a trail of cold sweat. Bodyguards… they weren't bodyguards at all. If anything, the Death Eaters acted as a buffer between Selene and her.
The woman's predatory dark irises never left her as she paced in front of the door, but Selene didn't see it as a sign of nervosity. More like… prowling. She didn't even take her wand out. Clearly, she thought herself the only threat in this room. Selene kept her distances, slowly backing by the furthest wall to protect herself. The woman grinned.
The Death Eaters came back a few moments later, accompanied by a third person. The newcomer was masked too, but he towered at least several inches above the others. Selene recognized his gait instantly.
"You called for me, Bellatrix?" Crouch said, deference in his voice. Respect.
She gestured at Selene. "Who's this?"
His brown eyes found hers. If he were shocked by her presence, he hid it well. "That's Selene Meadowes."
"Meadowes? Again?" Bellatrix scrutinized her, giving Selene the time to observe Regulus' cousin more closely. Now that she knew what to look for, the resemblance with the Black brothers was uncanny. Bellatrix's beauty reminded Selene of old money. Her long brown hair was curlier than Regulus', but she had the same scrunch to her nose when staring down at something unworthy of her attention. She held her back as straight as Sirius.
Yet, there was a spark of sociopathic insanity there that had Selene's skin crawl in fear.
"The sister, I'm guessing? On a rescue mission, are you?" she laughed again, a raucous sound that made the wall shake. "Little badger caught in our net."
"Lion," Selene corrected despite her sworn silence. She'd let no one assume she was anything but a Gryffindor.
"Even better, a scared little cub." Bellatrix took out her wand. "Gryffindors are the most fun to break."
Selene's heart dropped to her heels; she'd never escape this cell unscathed. Crouch avoided her gaze.
Wrong. She'd never escape this cell at all.
"I'll help you." Bellatrix cocked her head to the side again, tilting her bent wand. "Why don't you start by telling me exactly how you found this place, mmh? No?" she pouted; voice childish. "You're sure? Alright, Crucio!"
Pain like she'd never felt before scorched through her body. The blood in her veins turned to molten metal, her muscles to a thousand needles. She lost grip on reality as the excruciating agony ravaged her. Hot blades slashed her skin, her bones breaking, mending, only to break again with a louder snap. Selene slumped to the floor, twisting as if to escape the spell's grip.
She didn't.
It went on and on and on, until screaming stopped being liberating, until the efforts of creating new tears became unbearable.
Everything. Too much. Her body stopped contorting to fight the dark curse. All of this, useless. There was no fighting it.
Then it stopped, the pain disappearing in a whisk of fresh wind.
Bellatrix removed lint from her cloak, not having shed a single drop of sweat during the powerful unforgivable spell. "Ugh! You're so young and weak. It's not even fun."
A Death Eater snickered. "She's already broken, little doll."
Through her blurry eyes, Selene noticed Bellatrix grip her left arm in a sudden jerk. The tall woman pocketed her wand and scowled at the crying Gryffindor. "She's not worth my time. Get rid of her. Leave her body in the street."
That's how she would die then. Dirty and alone, in a freezing cell, killed by the hand of a masked man who'd probably desecrate her body to send a message back to Dumbledore.
The tears stopped falling.
All that for a war she didn't want to get implicated with in the first place. Because she needed her sister to be proud of her. How utopian. For the cause itself was insufficient to light the spark of passionate tenacity that would have kept her alive.
Selene didn't care enough to fight.
She should have stayed home.
"Her name's on the list," Crouch said. He was holding a parchment he must have unrolled while she was being tortured.
"She's not!" Bellatrix was adamant.
The smallest masked Death Eater reviewed the list and nodded, his silver mask catching the moonlight. "It's there. Does it mean we hold her until the Dark Lord returns?" The voice was familiar, although not enough to be identified.
Bellatrix snatched the parchment from their hands, skimming the long list with a frown. "She's too young to be in the Order. Who added her there?"
"She could be," Crouch replied, ignoring her second question. "She's friend with Potter and the others."
Such a good liar, he was. Bloody Crouch would save her life.
Bellatrix glared at Selene, still panting on the ground. It would be so easy to get rid of her and never think about it again. But having her name on the list was enough to make her hesitate. She shoved the parchment back into Crouch's hands with an irritated grunt. "Put her with the other. This room is not secured enough. They'll have to share a cell until our master decides what to do with them."
One of the masked strangers grasped the back of her jacket to force her up. Wand at her back, she was jerked across the room, then down the corridor until her face hit a heavy metal door. The mechanism opened with a loud clank, and Selene was thrown into the cell. She crashed on the floor and the door closed.
"Selene?"
Dorcas sat on a thin mattress, dumbstruck with horror. But alive.
A sob broke out of Selene's chest as Dorcas rushed to her aid and helped her sit on the narrow bed. Selene hugged her sister tight, clinging to her very living body like she had never dared before. Dorcas allowed the hug. She was more emaciated than ever, her skin cool and clammy, but didn't seem physically hurt. And her temper—the unbreakable fortress—was as solid as the day they'd fought in Hogsmeade.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Selene only sobbed harder, having to wipe the tears off her eyes to see her sister clearly. "I failed rescuing you."
Dorcas didn't need to speak for Selene to see what brewed underneath the full mouth of hers. You shouldn't have come. Now we're both stuck, and we'll die here. Stupidly reckless. This is bigger than you simply missing me.
This isn't about you, Selene.
But Dorcas brought her closer. A crack in the stone. "Thank you for trying."
They remained still for a long, long time, letting the tears speak for them. For the words, no matter how carefully crafted, would never convey the same.
"Did you see Voldemort?"
Dorcas nodded, the movement making Selene flinch, her breath cut short.
"What happened?"
"He's a Legilimens. Good thing I got into Occlumency early, or else he would have seen everything in my mind. He asked the crazy bitch to continue interrogating me."
In sympathy, Selene reached for her sister's hand and squeezed. From what she'd seen, she had a pretty good idea of Bellatrix's interrogation techniques. Dorcas squeezed back, confirming with a nod that she was alright. She did seem ok. As much as someone could after being held captive for ten days in their enemies' lair.
Dorcas gave her a long look that made Selene self-conscious.
"What?"
" He came too, you know." Selene's gaze darted to her sister's. She didn't want to say Black's name in case someone was listening to them. "Yesterday. Offered to kill me if I wanted it. Said he could pass it off as self-defence."
"What? Why?"
"Pity, I think. He must have thought that death would be better than whatever awaited me. Said he could make it quick and painless."
Selene blinked in consternation, trying to process Regulus' offer. She wondered when the switch happened, when people stopped throwing jinxes at others to curse them with unforgivables instead. Only Black's cold-blooded temperament would have allowed him to offer Dorcas this token of cruel mercy.
"What did you say?"
"I understand the risk he took by offering this. Truly," she added at Selene raised eyebrows. "Then I said I'd kill them all before allowing one of them to break me."
Selene watched her sister closely. To this day, still, Dorcas' courage impressed her. Never would she make promises she couldn't keep. She was fearless. An undeniable lioness Selene could only aspire to imitate, although it'd be a poor parody of the real thing.
She took her hands in hers and saw fingernails had been torn off. "We'll get out of here. Remus and Lily know where I went. Someone will come for us."
As an older sister, Dorcas should have been the one to reassure the youngest that everything would be okay. But Dorcas estimated lying beneath her, and when she clutched to her hands, Selene understood she also knew the harsh reality.
"Nobody's going to come for us, Lena. They won't endanger half the Order to get the two of us out."
No false pretense.
At first, Selene believed herself immoral for refusing to take a stance on this war. Her friends and Dorcas had been vocal in their disapproval, saying neutrality was a position in itself. Faced with abuse, remaining passive, some would say, was almost worse than holding the ax. They'd been right, then.
But now she understood that morality had nothing to do with it. War was an amoral calculation of statistics. Human lives as mere probabilities. Casualties as fractions. And Selene, a simple decimal in the grand scheme of things.
She wondered how her friends' morality coped with the fact of letting two of them be tortured to death, just to keep the numbers right.
"Then we'll get out by ourselves. We'll find a way."
Ridiculously light meals were brought twice during the day, each time by different guards she didn't recognize. The broad shoulders could have been Wilkes', but who knew? She hadn't taken the time to analyse the Death Eaters too much; that roast beef sandwich she's had last night had long been digested, and she was starving. The food wasn't bad, but it felt like someone had remembered at the last minute they had prisoners to feed and had made a meal with whatever they had on hand.
Bellatrix didn't come back. Selene supposed she followed Voldemort wherever he was, and would pay the crew regular visits to ensure everything remained in order.
Regulus didn't stop by either.
After questioning her about it, Dorcas revealed he had visited only once, the same day she had met Voldemort. Selene supposed he wasn't in the manor, either. It was difficult to assess, since they were confined to the single, cramped room, but it seemed like there were very few Death Eaters actually posted here. Crouch came by once with a jug of water.
He didn't speak to her directly, but Selene presumed it was his way of checking on them.
With Regulus absent, the Slytherin remained their best chance at escaping.
Next time he'd stop by, which she assumed would be soon, she'd ask him to help them. He could forget to lock the door, for instance, or put a knife in their meals. Weaken the window. Anything.
Crouch had never been very found of her, but she'd try to convince him, anyway.
But that opportunity never came.
Because three days after getting captured, Selene was brought before Voldemort.