CHAPTER 4
The Dark Lord waits until his precious snake has finished eating and is sprawled over the entire table, satiated, before saying, "You are free to leave," yet no one makes a move to do so. In fact, each and every Death Eater around the table remains completely motionless until the Dark Lord himself stands slowly and exits the drawing room. As he turns the corner, my chest loosens, allowing me to breathe once more.
I look over at Bellatrix and give her hand a gentle squeeze, my eyes watering with gratitude that she helped me through this. She watches me closely for a moment but remains quiet, then releases my hand and follows the Malfoys out. I feel emptier and more vulnerable without her beside me. How is that possible?
Snape meets my eye, and though unsure exactly what he is trying to communicate with me, I have the sneaking suspicion that we will not be allowed to go back to Spinner's End just yet because something is expected of one of us or both of us. My heart sinks. There is no escape from the manor just yet. I must wait to talk with him in the privacy of that small house until we finish whatever he needs to finish here, which could take any amount of time that would preferably be spent any other way. Retreating from this place is the top priority the second such an option becomes available.
A few more of the Death Eaters leave, three of them Disapparating from the room altogether, but still Snape does not move. Two Death Eaters, the ones the Dark Lord called Amycus and Alecto, catch Snape's gaze, and I take his cue to stand and meet them in the middle of the room. "Rodgers," Snape informs me, "these two will be professors at Hogwarts this coming year." I look them both in the eye but fail to find something to say. The man leers at me in a way that makes my skin crawl. "Amycus Carrow will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, and his sister Alecto will take over Muggle Studies. The position has just opened up." The woman smirks, and it takes all my willpower not to visibly cringe.
Both Carrows offer me their hands, and I willingly accept the gesture, trying to act as pleasantly as possible. "I'm looking forward to your classes," I say, keeping the frustration out of my voice well enough for them not to take notice but poorly enough for Snape to notice and cast me a warning look.
"The Dark Lord has asked us to make you as comfortable as possible while at Hogwarts," Amycus says, his mouth turned up in what he must believe is a charming smile. "I hope you will find everything to your liking."
I smile kindly. "I'm sure I will." They Disapparate, and I look to Snape and mutter, "I wish you were the only Death Eater watching over me at Hogwarts. I don't like them."
"I wholeheartedly agree," he answers quietly.
"About not liking them or about wishing you were the only Death Eater watching over me?"
He looks amused for half a second, but another man approaches us before he can reply. This is the very same man who had been glaring at me throughout the meeting. This close, he looks ill, not well-kept—his beard is scraggly and ungroomed, as is his hair, which falls just past his ears—hiding fury behind a mask of awkwardness.
His red-rimmed eyes sweep over me slowly, trailing from my face to my feet then back to my face. Cold fear grips my heart, and gooseflesh spreads across my skin. "Charlotte Rodgers," he says with a lick of his lips. I offer my hand, but he is either too ill to notice or is ignoring it completely. He shifts from one foot to the other. "It's really you."
"Yes, Avery," Snape says, stepping forward faintly and putting himself slightly between me and the other man. Avery? This can't be the Avery, can it? And is that a protective tone in Snape's voice? "This is truly she." I desire nothing more than to reach out and grab Snape's hand to get out of here. Blood starts pounding in my ears. I need to be as far away from these Death Eaters as possible.
Has the Dark Lord already released him from wherever he was being punished? He nearly killed me, he should have been locked away at least a few more months. The Dark Lord doesn't actually care what happens to you, you know this.
"Snape," Avery greets him as if noticing his presence for the first time during this exchange. Then he looks back at me. "You're not at all what I pictured. I didn't know who you were when I saw you attacking Bellatrix. Did the knife leave a scar?" His eyes trail over me again as if he would be able to find the place where it impaled me.
I swallow, fighting the sudden instinct to cover my side with my hand. "I don't believe I know you."
He smirks. "You're right. We've never met."
"Snape," a man says from behind us.
Snape ignores the call, not removing his eyes from Avery, until the man places his hand on Snape's shoulder so he cannot be ignored any longer. The moment Snape turns, the hair on the back of my neck stands up. "Mulciber," Snape says.
"I hear the Dark Lord is working to make you the next Hogwarts headmaster," the man named Mulciber replies.
"So how do you know me?" I ask Avery evenly.
"All the Death Eaters know who will be the Dark Lord's—" He twitches his head and stops talking, those red-rimmed eyes filling with hatred, his jaw clenching. Then he lunges at me, and I only have time to shout for Professor Snape before I am forcibly Disapparated.
Before I have a chance to gain my bearings of this new place, he slams me through a glass table. I lie on the floor for a moment, trying to assess my injuries. Glass shards dig into my back and legs, and I reach to my face and feel something jutting from my cheek. I groan and roll over, then struggle to my hands and knees and whimper at the shattered glass chewing into my palms.
A boot rams into my stomach, and I fall over, back onto the pile of glass, gasping for air and holding onto my side, the pain of his knife returning for the first time in days.
"You killed my father," he growls.
"He killed your sister."
"I had no sister! I lost her when she turned her back on the Dark Lord!"
"And what do you think you're doing now?" I try, struggling back up to my knees "Don't you think this is turning your back on him? He specifically demanded my safety!"
"Impedimenta!"
The spell flings my body into the wall, and the shards of glass in my back plunge deeper. I let out a yelp and fall back to the floor.
"Don't act like you want to serve him! I saw your face in that meeting!" I reach for my wand, and an invisible force slams into the side of my face, pushing the shard into my gums. Agony erupts across my face, stunning and blinding me, and I let out an involuntary whine as the taste of iron overwhelms me. A force lifts me into the air by my neck and pulls me to him until we're eye to eye. "Where did my knife get you?" His eyes begin trailing over me again. "You were in St. Mungo's, so it couldn't have been an arm or a leg." He places his wandless hand—his left one—on my right hip, digging his fingers into me.
"Don't—" Extraordinary pain in my mouth cuts me off, and I close my eyes against the nausea.
"It can't have healed yet." Continuing to dig his fingers into me, he begins working his way up right side. I begin trembling when he reaches my ribcage, tears in my eyes, but he doesn't stop, instead digging his fingers into my right breast and across my sternum and then down my left side until he reaches my healing wound and I let out a gasp of pain. He smiles viciously. "There it is."
With a wave of his wand, that section of my torso becomes exposed to the air, and he traces his fingers over the mark he left on me. He licks his lips. "You tried to remove it," he says softly, almost giddily. He covers the full scar with his palm. "This will be delicious." Avery thrusts his hand into my side, and his spell releases my neck, allowing him to send me clattering to the floor. I cry out and try to roll to my side to protect my wound, but another force pushes me onto my back at the same time a rope wraps around my neck. I reach up to pull it as far off my throat as possible to be able to breathe, my body trembling as he slowly walks toward me.
He produces a knife. "You stabbed my father to death. It's only fair I do the same to you, wouldn't you agree? This might hurt more though—penance for my years of pain." With a flick of his wand, my robes vanish, leaving my skin bear to him, and he smiles. My breathing becomes ragged, tears blurring my vision so much I can't even see him. He lowers himself down to me, his knees pinning mine together. The tip of his knife touches my ribcage but does not pierce the skin. "Oh, Miss Rodgers, how I have dreamed of smelling this fear on you. I shall take my time and savor this. Let's begin."
The knife opens a gash just below my right breast, and I shriek as what feels like fire laps across my torso. He groans and closes his eyes, taking in another deep breath. "How I've dreamed of hearing that sound on your lips." His hand snakes up my torso, slathering my blood across me and up my neck until his thumb grazes my lips. "I can't wait to cut them off." With his middle and forefinger, he pushes the shard of glass jutting from my cheek further into my mouth, driving it deeper into my gums—pain explodes across my face, and as I cry out, he sticks his thumb into my mouth. So overwhelmed by the fire in my mouth that there are no rational thoughts in my brain, I miss a chance to bite down and take his thumb off. "So warm," he moans. "But let's save that for later."
He removes his hand from my face and glides it back down my neck. Then he takes the tip of his knife and pushes it against my sternum, and that's when I realize how stupid I've been: Aunt Cissy. I release the rope around my neck to grab the necklace instead. He takes a deep breath and drags the blade down to my belly button, laughing as I scream, and in that moment, the Dark Lord and Bellatrix appear in the room. A rope grabs Avery by the neck and forcefully yanks him off of me while an invisible force cuts the rope from around my neck.
"Au—"
"Charlotte," the Dark Lord quickly cuts Bellatrix off, effectively preventing her from saying my real name. Then he looks down at Avery who is on the floor by his feet. "I am disappointed." His eyes find me on the floor, then rove around the room to take in the sight of the broken table and the blood before finding my mother. "Bella, take her back to the manor. Find her some clothes. Tend to her wounds. I will deal with Avery."
My mother rushes over to me, and I start sobbing when her hands take mine. "Shhh," she coos. "You'll be all right." I don't resist when she Apparates us from the place. We come to a stop on the edge of her bed. "You'll be fine," she repeats softly. I don't have the energy to reply and instead just stare blankly at her. She looks at the necklace. "Cissy gave this to you?" I nod. "Cosmo!" He appears. "Tell Cissy where we are."
Narcissa appears in the room moments later and gasps when she sees us. "Charlotte!"
"Find her some clothes."
When she disappears again, Bellatrix pulls out her wand, and despite everything she's done to me in the past, I close my eyes and let her begin casting spells at me. Though her words are hard to understand, the magic removes the shards of glass from my skin. Once the glass pulls from my gum, I start sobbing and fall against her. She continues speaking, and the abrasions across my skin begin closing, lessening the pain. "I was so scared!" I cry into her.
Bellatrix's arms come around me, her chin on the top of my head. "I know. I know, love. I know." I tighten my hold on her. "You're safe now. You're here, and you're safe." She runs her hand through my hair. "You're safe." She kisses my head. "And I'm sorry, Aurelia. I had no choice. I'm sorry."
I nod against her, and a robe comes around my shoulders. Narcissa sits down on the other side of me, her arm around my waist. "Charlotte, are you okay?" she asks quietly.
I just shake my head. Bellatrix waves her wand, and a cup flies towards us. She hands it to me one, motioning for me to sit up straight. She and Narcissa both keep their arms around my back. "Firewhiskey. For the nerves. Drink it." A few silent tears slip from my eyes and slide down my face as I take a sip, my limbs trembling. A weight presses down on my chest, and a sob escapes me again. "Aurelia," she says gently.
"I'm so tired, Mum," I whisper, wiping the tears away but unable to look at her, instead keeping my gaze fixed on the pile of bloody glass shards on the floor. "I'm so tired of being hurt."
"I know."
"I don't know how much more I can handle," I breathe.
Narcissa brushes some of my hair behind my ear. Her voice is very quiet, very calm when she says, "Charlotte, did he—what did he do to you? Why were your robes missing?"
I look up at her blurry figure, unshed tears in my eyes. "I think he wanted to carve me."
"What?" Bellatrix asks. I close my eyes, those tears finding their way down my cheeks.
"He took them off and pinned me down," I say. "He traced his—his knife over me. I think he wanted to carve me. He said—he said since I stabbed his dad—I had to die the same way. But he . . . wanted to savor it."
Narcissa places her palm on the side of my face closest to Bellatrix and turns my head toward her. She exhales slowly. "Is that all he did? He didn't—he didn't—"
"He didn't rape me, if that's—" She exhales, relieved, and pulls my head against her, then kisses my hair. I reach over to Bellatrix, who takes my hand immediately. "I think that was his plan eventually," I whisper, my body beginning to tremble at the memory. Neither of them replies, but they let me remain between them until I stop shaking. Then we stand, and they help me put the robes on properly. Bellatrix touches my face before taking my hand and Apparating us back to the drawing room.
Snape very quickly walks toward us. "What happened?" he asks quietly.
Bellatrix does not attempt to stop us from speaking. "Avery . . . wasn't happy with me—about what I did . . . after Mrs. Stoico." A few tears slip down my cheeks.
"Where is he now?"
"With the Dark Lord," I say. "Can we leave now, I—"
The Dark Lord appears in the drawing room, an unconscious, bloody Avery at his feet. He holds two wands. "Rodolphus, Rabastan," the Dark Lord calls. "Put him with the other prisoner. I'll deal with him later."
Two men saunter by me, and though unsure which one is Rodolphus, I drink in both of their faces, the faces of two men whose similarities obviously suggest that they are brothers very close in age. One of these men is my father. They both have blue eyes, my eyes, if Bellatrix was truthful about me getting my eyes from the Lestranges—the one on the right has eyes of a deep blue rather than icy blue like mine and short scruffy hair and a clean-shaven face rather than long hair and a beard like his brother. I watch them, both of them seemingly exhausted, dark rings around their eyes and tension in their shoulders, until they disappear from the room with Avery.
"I trust Bella assisted you," the Dark Lord says to me. Something about the look in his eye makes him seem genuinely curious as to whether I am fine.
"Yes, my Lord."
"He will not hurt you again."
"Thank you," I whisper, tears in my eyes again.
He nods once, then looks at Snape. "Severus, take her away now."
"Yes, my Lord."
I give Bellatrix one last glance, offering her a grateful smile, before Snape Disapparates with me.
"Which one was Rodolphus?" I ask quietly once we come to a stop.
It takes him a second to register what I mean before he says, "The one on the left."
The one on the left had a well-trimmed beard, a blank stare, and his hair back in a low, loose ponytail. He had the same icy blue eyes as mine. Rabastan was the one with the deep blue. I smile to now have a face to associate with my father. But when I meet Snape's eye again, my thoughts change completely. "You said I would be safe," I whisper.
"I thought you would be."
"He could have killed me. He wanted to kill me."
Snape frowns. "The Dark Lord has asked—he has asked that I use Legilimency to find out what happened to you."
"Why didn't he do that himself?"
"I can't pretend to speak for him. Hazarding a guess? He doesn't think it's worth his time, but he wants to know how severely to punish Avery." I frown. "I don't have to use Legilimency. You can just tell me—"
"I don't think I can talk about it," I whisper. "You can do it."
"Are you sure?" he asks. We sit down on the sofa, and I nod at him. If anyone should know exactly what Avery tried to do to me, it's the man who already knows basically everything else that Death Eaters have ever done to me before. "At any point you want me to leave, just say so. You might not be strong enough to expel me right now, so just tell me to leave."
"If the Dark Lord wants you to see it . . ." He frowns but waits for me to nod before casting the spell. I hold nothing back.
Snape stands off to the side in my memory as Avery attacks me, his face a mask of pain and sorrow as I hang suspended before the other Death Eater, my mouth bleeding from the shard of glass sticking out of it. Avery begins searching my torso for my wound, and Snape's jaw clenches, his nostrils flaring as he exhales. I look over at him. "He'll throw me on the floor in a minute," my memory self says. "And he'll use his wand to strip me." Snape almost looks both enraged and distraught. "And he'll pin me down—" Avery's wand rips my robe open so he can see my wound. "
"Charlotte, if he—"
"He tries to carve into me."
Snape's face changes from one of pain to one of confusion. "Carve into you?"
Avery shoves me to the floor, and ropes tighten around my neck. "He doesn't say that exactly," I say, pulling at the ropes.
Snape and I don't speak again as the rest of the scene plays out. He stands statuesque, his wandless hand clenched into a fist, his face a portrait of unconcealed rage. We do not again make eye contact because he is watching Avery so closely. He removes himself from my mind once Bellatrix Apparates me back to the manor.
Snape's face is red with fury when he looks over at me, but something changes when we make eye contact, the anger dissolving into sorrow and perhaps guilt. He reaches over and takes my hand. "I shouldn't have turned my back on the two of you, Charlotte. I . . . I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone knew how his father died—"
"How does he know?"
"If he knows, someone else must know. He's unlikely to have discovered it by himself."
"Which means there are more people who know about that than we thought . . ."
"It's not all bad."
"How so?" I reply dryly.
"After what just happened—or rather what will happen—to Avery, others will fear attacking you. Not only will they fear the Dark Lord, but if they know how you bru—killed a man when you were ten, it might deter any future assailants."
"Why was he roaming free? I thought the Dark Lord would have kept him locked away for much longer after the dagger incident."
Snape watches me for a moment. "He needed him for something. I doubt if he'll ever get the chance to do anything again."
I nod but no longer want to talk about Avery and his possible punishment. Instead, I glance down at my arms, which show no trace of the glass that had so recently been plunged into my skin aside from a few blood streaks. I suppose Bellatrix deserves a thank-you the next time we are together. "I called for Narcissa. Why did Bellatrix and the Dark Lord show up?"
"The Dark Lord was assigning places for people to look when Narcissa's necklace alerted her. Bellatrix ripped it from her neck and Disapparated with the Dark Lord."
"You're telling me you didn't try to rip it from her neck first?"
"She on the other side of the room," he deadpans, his eyes watching me closely.
He was about to come to my rescue. The thought brings a smile to my face. "How did they know something had happened to me?"
"I believe it was the snake," Snape says, "Nagini."
I shudder. "What is it about her?"
"I'm unsure." He stands. "I must report to the Dark Lord." Then he Disapparates.
I could have been killed today. And now the Death Eaters are planning to hunt down Harry Potter and all of those who will be trying to help him escape to a safehouse. I can only assume that the Weasleys will be involved in helping Harry. It would only make sense considering how close he is to them.
Fred. After everything I've done to him, I have to help his family—as my final apology. Snape returns a few minutes later and reclaims his spot on the sofa beside me. "The Weasleys will no doubt be part of escorting Harry to one of the safe houses, yeah?"
Snape watches me suspiciously, a knowing look in his eye. "I would believe so."
"Then you have to let me go with you."
"I appreciate your enthusiasm, Charlotte, but I've seen you fly."
"Why does that matter?"
"I Confunded a man—"
"Your source, I'm guessing?"
He nods. "Who, in turn, convinced the Order to use the Polyjuice Potion. There will be seven Harry Potters leaving Potter's safe residence. Each will be paired with a member of the Order, each flying to a different place. Those of us who are to hunt him must be able to fly well on a broom. This disqualifies you."
The last time I flew I ended up face-first in the icy ground. And that was almost two years ago. I have gotten no better since then and would plummet to my death if I tried flying and helping the Order at the same time. All the same, I owe it to Fred to try to protect him and his family, which means I have to find a way into this hunt. "How do you plan on helping Harry if you don't know which one he is?"
"Potter is arrogant, much like his father." He sounds a little biased. "It is my belief that he will be on a broomstick. He believes himself to be one of the greatest fliers there is."
"But this is just a hunch."
"I have another theory. Potter is a sentimental sort. With Remus Lupin being the last of his father's best mates, I believe the boy will travel with him. Lupin would see protecting his friend's son as a way to honor his memory."
"So you intend on following Lupin and his Harry?"
"Precisely."
"I want to come along," I announce.
"We just went over this. You cannot fly."
"You're right. My flying is dreadful. Absolutely dreadful, in fact. I've tried it once in my life and nearly broke my neck. But you already know that, you were there, you mocked me. However, Professor, though I might be incapable of flying five feet off the ground, you can fly fairly well."
"I disagree with where you're taking this."
"If I go—"
"Which will not happen."
"Even if I could fly, the Dark Lord would not want me going. So if I do, I'll need to be under the Disillusionment Charm. I don't need to fly because you can. I just have to be invisible." His jaw clenches, and I grin back at him. "I can ride on the back of your broom."
"Absolutely not."
"But you said the Weasleys will most likely be involved in helping move Harry to a safer location. That means Fred will be there as well. I have to be there, just in case something happens. I have to help him in any way that I can." I lower my eyes and add quietly, "He could die."
Snape watches me closely.
And perhaps doing something to thwart the Death Eaters from harming the Order will make me feel like less of a failure, will allow me to feel safer around the Death Eaters after what has just occurred. Avery might be out of the picture, but I can avenge myself on one of the others. "I owe it to him for lying to him for so many months as I did. I owe it to him. If he dies and I'm not there doing all that I can to help, I will never forgive myself. Surely you've been in this position before, yeah?" I say. "Someone you once loved was in danger and you did the best you could to protect them even though you never spoke anymore." Maybe this is a dirty tactic, but I hardly care. "You're a Death Eater, you have to have been in my shoes before. Please let me go with you and help him. Please."
"You won't even know which one Mr. Weasley is and will therefore be unable to help him."
It's annoying when he makes a good point. "Not all of his family will be Polyjuiced, and I can help protect the ones I see. And besides, you won't know which one he is either. You can't promise to protect him for that very reason. And even if you could, no offense to you, I doubt if you would try to protect him."
"You think I would neglect—"
"You would be too busy protecting Harry. Your first priority is to ensure that Harry survives. Your second priority is ensuring that as many of the Order survives as possible. Fred has to be my top priority. It just has to be. I owe it to him, don't you understand that? I owe it to him."
Snape seems prepared to argue another point, but I quickly add, "I don't want to lose him while we are on such terrible terms. He still hates me, and though he and I are in the past, I don't want him to die without him knowing how truly sorry I am for what I did."
With this, despite the guilt slowly rising in my chest and making it difficult to breathe, I am relieved to see that this has swayed him. I doubt he would want anyone to suffer that way, and while I will eventually be overcome with regret for playing on Snape's emotions about Lily this way, it was worth it. All that matters is doing everything in my power to ensure Fred comes out of this thing alive.
Maybe then he will forgive me. And even if he doesn't, at least I did everything possible to atone for my selfishness.
"I don't doubt your ability to use the Disillusionment Charm effectively," Snape begins, and I would certainly hope he doesn't doubt me considering he has seen me use it before, "but I simply must lay out the rules for you if you are to join the Death Eaters when this happens."
I nod. "I'll do whatever you tell me to."
"The Charm stays on you at all times. I do not care what circumstances might arise, the Charm stays on you at all times, am I understood?"
"Yes."
"You are to remain completely silent throughout the entire process. You may not speak any spells, you may not cry out for help, you may not utter a single noise. This might be difficult for you, but I trust your ability to cast nonverbal spells."
He believes in my ability enough to let me go with him. "The only part of that rule that seems difficult is not crying out for help, but I trust myself to do it. And I can even put a Silencing Charm on myself if need be. Go on, what other rules are there?"
Snape sighs. "As you are not supposed to be there at all, I will need to act as if you are not. If you are caught, we will both be severely punished. This means, however, that if you fall from the broom, there is absolutely nothing I can do for you. You will simply plummet to your death silently, and no one will ever really know what happened to you. Your death in this manner will leave me in a predicament, as I will surely be blamed for your disappearance. I will most likely be killed."
"So you're saying that I need to be extra careful not to die and cause a string of events that will not only lead to your death but will also lead to some other Death Eater taking over Hogwarts and probably harming students to a gross degree?"
"That is exactly what I'm saying. If you feel that you're about to fall, stop what you're doing and readjust on the broom. Do not risk your life."
"You sound worried about me, sir."
"Or perhaps I'm worried about my own life and what might happen if something unspeakable happens to you while under my care. The punishment will be most regrettable."
I smile. "But deep down you're a little worried about me too. Don't lie. I saw your reaction when I returned after St. Mungo's."
"I have no recollection of that."
"Sure."
He grimaces. "No falling to your death, no speaking."
"You have a deal, Professor."