CHAPTER 14

The next morning, when the door opens, I stand and go over to it, smiling at the sight of Narcissa once again bringing me something. "Can I have some water?" Just like Bellatrix, she waves her wand to summon a glass before coming down the stairs, a tray in her hands. "Where's Draco?"

"He's out," she says vaguely. "Breakfast?"

The smell of sausage reaches me before she does. "I'd love some." We sit down together beside my trunk, using the top of it as a makeshift table. "Where's Bellatrix?"

"So worried about everyone else in the manor. Am I not good enough?"

I laugh in surprise and start gathering food onto my plate. "Perhaps I'm just nosy."

She grins at me. "She's away, doing something for the Dark Lord. I'm not usually privy to her actions until after she returns and tells me about them."

"Well, if she's gone, then she absolutely won't hear this conversation. You found it . . . strange, too, right, that she was investigating me? Did you know about that?"

"I—yes, I found it odd. She claims she began the investigation shortly after you left last Christmas. She won't tell me much about it and has refused to share her findings. Is there anything I should know about?" I shrug noncommittally. "She was particularly angry that you discovered the folder."

"I was particularly angry she refused to just talk to me instead of sneaking around finding information on me." I take a bite of sausage. "Does she like games? Gambling at all? Taking risks or bets?"

"Bella?" I nod. "She has a competitive streak, if that's what you mean. Why?"

"I'm trying to find a way to . . . get her to speak with me. If she's competitive, perhaps a friendly wager over some card games could work."

Narcissa looks amused, and a mischievous countenance comes over her. "I can hardly guarantee that such a scheme would work, but . . . it'd be a lie to say there's not a chance it'd work. I think you should try it. At the very least, it might give Bella something to talk to you about that doesn't concern your duty or the Dark Lord."

"You got a deck of cards?"

"We have multiple sets of Self-Shuffling Cards. I'll bring them with me next time."

For the next three days, Narcissa brings me at least one meal per day; Cosmo brings me something to eat when she is indisposed. She's never answered what she's doing, but I assume Draco might not know about my presence here, meaning anytime he is around, she cannot come down here lest she risk alerting him to the fact that the Dark Lord has locked me up. I don't mind; when she can't visit, I spend extra time reading through the potions book, trying to figure out the significance of those four potions.

Whenever she does visit, however, she brings a deck of cards as promised, and we spend a couple of hours playing games that she used to play with Bellatrix and Andromeda when they were on speaking terms as teenagers. This has become almost a nightly routine for us. Right now, we're playing a game that, while not a very skillful game, was one of Bellatrix's favorites as a girl, though Narcissa believes part of her adoration for it came specifically from the name: Spite and Malice. "Oh, piss off," I laugh as Narcissa plays three cards from her goal pile in a row. "You have to be cheating. I know you're cheating."

"Impugning my honor in my own home, Charlotte? You saw me deal these cards yourself. Surely you would've seen had I cheated."

I roll my eyes at her, then pick up the bottle of wine she brought with her this evening and pour more into each of our glasses. "All I'm saying is that I have yet to have a streak in my goal pile that plays so easily." I eye our respective piles, noting that hers is well over half-depleted while mine remains almost full.

"I wish had some advice for you," she says nonchalantly, grabbing her glass. "Perhaps you're just not very good at card games. You've had very little practice."

A loud laugh escapes me. "I'll make sure to keep that from Bellatrix when I ask her—"

"Keep what from Bellatrix?" a voice asks suddenly. "Just what the hell is going on down here?" Narcissa and I both look up, startled, to see Bellatrix standing at the bottom of the stairs, a plate of food in her hands. She approaches us quickly. "Answer me, Cissy!"

I wave at her as she sets down a plate containing what appears to be a roast beef sandwich and some chips. She narrows her eyes at me before turning fully to her sister. "We're playing cards, Bella. What does it look like?"

"Yeah, Bella, what does it look like?" I giggle.

"This is not the agreed-upon punishment," Bellatrix growls.

"The punishment was to ensure she wasn't too comfortable. Do you see a bed? A cot? Do you see chairs? Anything to offer comfort? Would you like to sleep on the stone floor with no pillow or blanket? I never agreed to isolate her," Narcissa says, looking back down at the cards in her hands.

"You've brought her wine!" Bellatrix argues, snatching up my glass. "You've made her a guest, not a prisoner!"

"Everything I've done falls within the terms of her punishment. You can discuss stricter rules should this happen again."

I point at my glass. "Can I have that back?"

"Return it to her, Bella. There's a third glass here for you if you want some, but you won't be taking hers." She winks quickly at me. Did she know Bellatrix was returning today? Narcissa sets a third glass onto the trunk and fills it with some wine. Bellatrix's eyes shoot from the glass to Narcissa's face and over to me.

When Bellatrix does not return my glass to me, I take the third one. "Thanks, Aunt Cissy."

"Aunt—Aunt Cissy?" Bellatrix asks, her voice shrill. "You manipulative little bitch! Is this how you've wormed your way into—"

"She's been nice to me," I say simply. "And I enjoy spending time with her. Would you like to sit and play and have some wine, and maybe next time I call you 'Mum', it'll be on purpose?" She flinches but seems to be thinking about my words. Her eyes drift to Narcissa for a moment, who is looking at the cards in her hands while sipping form her glass. "Should we start over and deal you in?"

"This feels suspiciously like you're trying to take away my hard-earned advantage, Charlotte," Narcissa says.

"Perhaps I am."

Bellatrix frowns at us but lowers herself to the floor. I smile at her, but she doesn't acknowledge it.

Some thirty minutes later, I am losing to both of them but can't bring myself to care because simply being in my mother's presence when she's not trying to harm me fills me with both a sense of warmth and longing. How different would everything be if she had not chosen to be evil and torture the Longbottoms? The thought saddens me. As I reach to draw three more cards, a thought occurs to me, and I look over at Bellatrix. "I have questions about your investigation."

"Absolutely not."

"What if I made you a deal?" She narrows her eyes at me. "If I can play all five of these cards without needing to discard, I get to ask you a question about the investigation."

"And when you fail?"

"Surely there's something you about me you want to know that your investigation didn't turn up. There's seriously nothing you want to know?"

Bellatrix eyes me closely for a few moments before saying, "Fine."

I draw my cards and deflate immediately, then glance down at my goal pile and accept my loss. I place a five on one of the four ascending all-play piles in front of me, grab the six from my goal pile and place it atop the five, put a nine on one of the other play piles, and discard a two into one of my personal discard piles. Bellatrix cackles, drawing a frown from me. "Whatever. Ask your question."

She sets her glass down on my trunk. "Everyone knows you killed Avery." Sweat breaks out in my forehead, dread already filling me at where she might be going with this. "Why did you do it?"

I frown. "He hurt someone I cared about."

"Yes, yes, Arabella's murder." Why does she know Mrs. Stoico's name? "I know the story. But why did you kill him?"

I exhale. "I already answered."

"No, you didn't. If you want a real answer from me the next time you make a silly bargain, you'll give me a better answer."

My hand shakes slightly as I take a sip of wine. "Fine, I killed him because I wanted to. He hurt someone I loved, and I wanted to make him pay. So I stabbed him in the back. Multiple times." Bellatrix looks pleased as she drinks her wine. "Is that why you think I'm a spy—because I killed him?"

She doesn't answer and instead turns her attention to the game. She plays her hand, making very little progress on her goal pile but seemingly unbothered by that. Fear keeps me from asking her a question because she didn't make that deal with me before drawing her cards. Narcissa once again has an excellent run and knocks out four of her cards in her goal pile, and I roll my eyes. "See, you have to be cheating," I say. "Not even Bellatrix managed that, and you said this was her favorite game—"

"She said what?"

"We talked about you," Narcissa says indifferently. "Charlotte had questions."

"You—"

"Oh, it's only fair," I say, rolling my eyes at her. "You had—what, a private investigator of sorts looking into me? Why shouldn't I be allowed to ask my aunt about you in return? If you won't answer my questions, you leave me no choice."

"Cissy, you need to stop encouraging her. What will you say to the Dark Lord when she reveals our secrets—"

"To who?" I cry out. "Who do you think I'd tell? Honestly! I've been so isolated my whole life! Do you really think I have anyone I can talk to?"

Bellatrix deflates slightly, a slight sadness on her face for a moment as she turns her attention completely to the cards in her hands as if there's some grand strategy she's debating about a game that does not lend itself to much strategy at all. After a few quiet seconds, she says, "Cissy always had a problem with cheating in this game."

Narcissa scoffs, and the bruised expression on her face draws a loud laugh from me. "I didn't deal the cards this round. How could I possibly have cheated?"

I meet Bellatrix's gaze, and the wicked gleam in her eyes brings a smile to my face as I realize what's happening. Then I turn my attention to Narcissa. "You did bring them down here though, and no one saw whether you placed a charm on them."

"They're self-shuffling. They're already charmed."

"Come to think of it," Bellatrix says. "She used to be surprisingly good at this game whenever she was the one who asked us to play. She'd bring the cards to us, and she'd always win. But if one of us brought the cards to her, she never won." Bellatrix looks up at Narcissa. "That doesn't seem like coincidence, does it?"

Narcissa frowns at us. "I won't tolerate this slander. Play your round, Charlotte."

I grin at her and draw three cards, a frown coming to my face when I see them. Bellatrix laughs quietly. "I'll ask my next question now, shall I?" I discard one card without managing to play any, then look at her. "Were you so successful on the run because of your Metamorphmagus skills?"

Blood drains from my face; my heartbeat echoes in my ears. She knows. My chest constricts with fear. I can't breathe. "What?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Aurelia. I gave birth to you. I was with you almost every waking minute of your life for the first six months. You were particularly fond of green hair." She smiles wickedly at me. "Oh, yes, I am very aware of your skills."

Narcissa, however, looks shocked. "You're a Metamorphmagus? That explains . . . so much. Bella, how could you not—"

"Rodolphus and I didn't want anyone to know, so we hid it. Used Human Transfiguration on her whenever she was to be around someone." Her eyes land on me again. "Is that how you managed it?" Voldemort has to know then. She never would've kept that from him. "Answer me."

"Yes," I breathe.

Bellatrix looks over at Narcissa. "So, you see why we can't just take her wand away and leave her as a prisoner in the main house, Cissy. She could run away, change her appearance, and never be seen again. She's already stolen a wand once. She could easily do it again." Something vicious crosses her face, and she adds with a hint of malice, "I doubt even her newfound appreciation for her 'Aunt Cissy' could bring her back. Otherwise, she would have told you what she can do."

"Don't you fucking dare," I hiss, and for the briefest of moments, she looks taken aback by my tone. "I haven't told anyone about that. It's not like it's some grand secret I'm keeping from her specifically. I keep it from everyone. Don't dare you dare imply—" I stop and look at Narcissa. "It's not about you. It's about everyone."

"I'm not upset with you, Charlotte," she says softly.

My gaze falls on Bellatrix again. "You might not want me to be your daughter, but she wants me to be her niece. I won't let your petty grievances ruin that for us."

Bellatrix rolls her eyes and starts her next round of cards. She silently plays her hand, and Narcissa follows suit. Their round has benefited me greatly, and I draw one card from the pile to have five total in my hands. Victory. Not even caring that this gets me no further through my goal pile, I play all five cards in my hand and turn to Bellatrix with a self-satisfied smile. She stares back, supremely unamused. "Tell me about your investigation."

"That's not a question. And you only have one, so ask wisely."

I frown at her. "You had a folder with information and also a journal. The journal was more detailed about my time at the orphanage, whereas the folder focused more on my time on the run."

"Still not a question."

"How did you get those two separate people to gather information on me?"

She drinks some wine. "I didn't," she says simply. "Arabella was making the journal of her own volition." How did Bellatrix acquire it? "As for the folder . . . Muggles are easy to manipulate. A few golden Galleons, and they'll do anything."

"You hired a Muggle?"

"You're using that 'hired' term quite liberally. No." Is there some Muggle out there dead now because Bellatrix wanted to know about me? Did she torture him to death? My blood runs cold, and the idea of learning more about how she gathered information about me nauseates me. "Yes, he's dead now."

I just nod and look back at my cards.

I refrain from asking more questions as we continue our game.

A hand grabs my shoulder to wake me, and my heart leaps into my throat. They've found me. I snatch the knife from under my rucksack, pull the legs out from whoever grabbed me—they emit a startled grunt as they hit the stone floor—and hop on top of them, pressing the blade to their throat. They can't take me. Through my heavy breathing and the panic rising in me, I vaguely register a gentle voice whispering, "Aurelia—Aurelia, calm down."

The sound of my original name brings me back to my senses because only one person has ever used it. I'm not currently being hunted by Death Eaters. Rather, I'm in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, having already been captured, and I have my mother pinned to the floor with a knife to her neck. What looks like blood is trickling around the blade, but it's not until her eyes lock with mine that I jerk the blade away from her and roll off her. I push myself to my feet, still breathing heavily, and look down at where she sits, a cloth I register to be one of my shirts pressed against her neck where the blade nicked her.

"I . . . I didn't mean to—I'm sorry, are you—"

"Do you always sleep with a weapon under your head?" she asks, removing my shirt from her neck and placing it with the rest of my things.

"Since I was ten. I never knew who might attack me."

A shocked expression flutters across her face momentarily, and for a second, Bellatrix looks as if she wants to say something; she ultimately decides against doing so. I offer her my hand and help her back to her feet. "I really do apologize for that. I didn't—I didn't mean to."

"I can fix it when we get out of the cellar."

"I'm leaving the cellar?"

She places her hand on my back and directs me up the stairs.

"Where were you the past couple of days? Before you got back yesterday, I mean."

"The Dark Lord required my assistance."

Could she be any vaguer? "Everything went well, I'm assuming. Though I'm sure it always goes well when you're involved, doesn't it?"

"You're mistaken if you think I'll relinquish your wand for a few words of flattery."

"Perhaps I was just trying to compliment my mother." I dart my eyes toward her, but she is resolutely not looking over at me. "However, I was hoping—"

"No, you may not leave."

"That wasn't really what I was planning on asking. I wanted to go see Draco."

Finally, she looks at me. "I believe he's still in his room. Why don't you run up there while I see how far along the house-elves are with your breakfast?"

When I reach the top of the stairs, Draco is closing his door behind him. "Draco!"

He turns and smiles when he sees me. "Charlotte?"

"I need to ask you a huge favor." I motion toward his room, and we both enter. "I need to borrow your wand."

His eyes narrow suspiciously. "Why?"

"Bellatrix has mine, and I can't get it back. But there's someone I need to see. I need to tell them I won't be able to spend any more time with them this holiday."

"Who and why can't you?"

I scramble for a lie that does not include the Weasleys, because Draco would never approve of that. "Zoe Accrington." That's not much better though because he hates her too. "And because I am currently being punished and am being forced to stay in the cellar down there without magic. Bellatrix let me out this morning, but I doubt it'll last. And I need Zoe to not worry about me. Please, Draco."

"Charlotte, I don't think—"

"I just need a wand to Apparate. I'll be gone five minutes at most."

After a short moment, he sighs, "Fine. But I'm trusting you greatly by doing this. And this means everything is behind us, all the fights and disagreements—it's gone. Deal?"

"As long as you abide by the same rules, deal."

He hands me his wand, and I Apparate to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, throw the door open, and start searching frantically for Fred until my eyes land on him where he stands by the register. "Fred!"

He looks up at the sound of my voice and comes around the counter to greet me with a swift kiss. "Where've you been? We've been so worried!"

"I'm safe and fine and unharmed, but I've been locked away. I have three minutes before I have to Apparate back to the manor. I can't come by the shop any more during the holiday. They're angry, and I can't risk anything."

"Wait—"

"I'm really sorry, but that's all I can say. I'm safe though, and that's all that matters."

"Yes, yes, of course. And you'd tell me if you were in danger?"

"Yes, I swear, but I really must go."

I peck his cheek before Disapparating. "Did I make it back in time?" I ask Draco.

He nods, taking his wand back. "You had thirty seconds to spare. Now you should get down to the kitchen before your mother comes looking for you."

I walk down to the kitchen where Bellatrix waits with someone I was not expecting to see until my return to Hogwarts: Severus Snape. He sits at the table with my mother, both of them looking completely indifferent at their current circumstances. "Professor?" I take a seat across from him and next to Bellatrix.

"Rodgers."

"Have you . . . come for breakfast?"

"Your punishment has been served," Bellatrix says airily, staring at me and pointedly not looking at Snape. "You are to return to the Muggle dunghill with Snape."

I look between the pair of them. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You are to return with him to continue your training in nonverbal spells."

"Will I get my wand back?"

"No," Snape answers flatly. "You cannot be trusted with it. The only time you will need your wand is during your lessons. Beyond that, it will be out of your reach."

"But—"

"Do not argue," Snape says. "You brought this upon yourself. It's time for us to leave."

"But—"

"Hush," Bellatrix demands, placing her hand on my knee under the table.

"But I don't understand."

"What is there not to understand?" Snape asks coolly. "You're leaving Malfoy Manor and returning to Spinner's End. I believe that's straightforward. Of course, you did spend six years uneducated, living in caves, so it makes sense that you wouldn't understand even the simplest—"

"Don't patronize me."

He smirks. "You know such big words for a child who grew up alone."

"Shut up," I hiss at him.

"Or you'll what? You have no wand, no weapon. What could you possibly do to me?"

I turn to my mother. "Couldn't I just stay here with you rather than returning to that hellhole with him? Can't you teach me nonverbal spells and dueling?"

"No, Miss Rodgers"—she must assume Snape does not know of my true parentage—"not unless you would prefer to be locked in the cellar for the rest of the holiday."

"I'll take that over being stuck with him."

Bellatrix shakes her head. "From what I've gathered, you don't want to live like that anymore."

He informed them I left. He's the reason I'm here. "Would you live with that man if given the chance to live anywhere else?"

Snape stands to his feet. "I believe I've heard quite enough. Enjoy your time in the dungeon."

"Wait," Bellatrix says. "Char—Charlotte, you must go with him. You cannot live in the cellar any longer. That was a punishment for your actions, a punishment that has now been served."

I level my gaze at her. "I'm sure there are other places in this manor where I can live."

"No. You must leave with Snape."

I meet her eyes and feel a sudden pain in my chest at the thought that we'll be separated again. She seems to hate me less now, which means this is the best chance I'll have to keep working on a relationship with her, and now it's being taken from me. "Please," I whisper. She just shakes her head, and with a loud sigh, I stand up and walk around to the professor. I smile coldly at Snape while taking his hand. "Shall we Disapparate?" We do just that, and the moment we reach Spinner's End, I release his hand. "Why'd you bother making me come back here when you hate my presence so much?"

"You were never meant to stay there for the rest of the holiday. The Dark Lord would not have approved when he wanted you to learn how to duel. However, it was he who suggested putting you there as a punishment for not being compliant."

"After you went and told them I left."

"The Dark Lord called upon you, and you were not here to go to him as demanded. You left me no choice."

I frown down at my feet. He didn't rat you out maliciously. Why does that make me feel slightly better? "So, it's safe to assume that when it comes time for me to fulfill my duty to Voldemort—the Dark Lord, sorry, don't yell at me like I can see you're planning to do—when that time comes, he'll punish me for not being compliant?" I sit down unsteadily on the sofa. "But his punishments will be more severe, won't they? He'll probably Cruciate me or—or worse." I meet his eyes. "Professor, I can't do this. Please, just let me have my wand—you can say I stole it from you or something. Please just let me escape this. Please."

Snape suddenly looks overly uncomfortable. "I can't do that."

"What will he do to me if I resist him? If he learns that I've been taught Occlumency?"

"You must become efficient enough that he will not know you have been taught."

I lean back on the sofa and look at him skeptically. "Is that even possible?"

"Yes."

"I'll just have to practice more often and put more effort into it?" I ask sarcastically.

"Yes. But we won't be working on Occlumency today."

"Nonverbal spells then?"

He shakes his head. "Not today." I watch him quizzically, so he explains, "Today, you will learn how to be the new Wormtail of Spinner's End. We had a deal, as I'm sure you remember."

I grimace but don't argue because he could very well find a way to throw me back into that cellar if my temper is unchecked. "Of course, I remember. What all does my new position require me to do?"

"You will need to cook our meals, clean the house, do whatever needs to be done."

"All without magic, I'm assuming?"

"The only time you will hold your wand in your hand is during our lessons."

I nod, knowing that there is no point in arguing with him. "And the no-wand thing is because I kept running away, and not because of the deal, right?"

"Correct."

"And will you be teaching me how to cook?"

"There is a book in the kitchen with recipes. Follow the instructions, and all should be fine."

I raise my eyebrows at him. "And you trust me not to burn the house down, do you?"

"No, but I will be in the house while you are cooking, and should you find yourself catching the place on fire, all you have to do is ask for help."

"And you'll help me cook?"

"No, I'll put out the fire."

"And everything I need should be in the kitchen?"

"It should."

"And if it's not?"

"It should be there."

"But if it's not?" He gives me a frustrated look, and I raise my hands in surrender. "Fine, it should be there. Is there anything in particular that I have to cook?"

"Not today."