CHAPTER 10

Voldemort and Bellatrix stand side-by-side, watching me as I weep hopelessly beside a bassinet in which a small baby cries for my help. "Please don't hurt her. You don't have to do this! Mum, you—you can raise her like you wanted with me. Please, you don't have to kill her."

"Get out of the way," Voldemort rasps.

I reach down and pick up my newborn daughter, her jet-black hair so thick despite her being so young. I hold her against my chest. "Mum, just look at her. You—you lost your chance with me, but—" I turn to see callousness on each of their faces, then drop to my knees and shriek out, voice cracking, "Please!"

"Lord Voldemort cannot have an unauthorized child in this world," he says silkily. "I need a boy."

"She's not even yours!" I sob, tightening my hold on her.

"Any child of yours is mine, for you are mine," he says. "Bella, fetch Severus. He needs to see this. And then we will render him incapable of siring another. We can't have this happen again."

I lurch awake violently, trying to catch my breath, my face wet with tears. Beside me, Severus's breathing is calm and steady as he sleeps peacefully, but an obscene amount of energy now pulses through me and will not allow me to even consider going back to sleep. The moonlight shines a little through the window, just enough to bounce off of his pale, bare torso. I sit up on the bed and watch him for a few minutes, tapping my fingers against my legs, unsure why this antsy feeling has consumed me. It's not like I'll be forced to go to Malfoy Manor in the morning; this is just a regular day. This is just a normal weekend, yet my body has told me it is time to panic. It's not normal, a voice whispers in my mind. You're stealing Gideon Collins's hair today.

I slide off the bed and make my way to the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind me to try not to wake Severus because he deserves some rest. I pull my hair up to get it off the back of my neck to cool off, then splash some cold water on my face. You're in Severus's chambers, you're safe, no one can hurt you.

So why do I feel this way?

You're stealing his hair to prepare to go to Azkaban.

To go to Azkaban.

To return to that place that almost killed you.

To return to the place where you tried to kill yourself.

I take a few deep, even breaths and brush my teeth, hoping that the familiar motions might help me take my mind off whatever is happening, but it does not work. Everything seems to be happening so slowly while my heart beats so quickly. What's wrong with me?

Just breathe. No one can hurt you now.

Maybe not, but they will eventually. I almost vomit at the thought.

After wiping my face with cold, wet hands to prepare myself once more, I take as deep breath as possible right now, step out of the bathroom, and crawl back onto the bed on top of the sheets, sweat beading on my forehead. Why does Severus get to sleep so peacefully while I have to deal with whatever this is?

Despite my effort to take slow, measured breaths, it's not long before I lose control of that, and my breaths start becoming choppy and short and almost painful. I continue trying to take control again for a few minutes before finally giving up, reaching over, and grabbing Severus's arm. "Help," I struggle out, "Severus! Severus—help me—something's wrong."

The candles and the torches light the room up immediately, and Severus is upright in the bed and by my side. "Charlotte, what's happening?"

"I don't know," I say, gripping his hand as tightly as I can. "I can't breathe. My—my heart is—" He slides closer to me, his hand on my shoulders, but I shove him away. "Don't—don't crowd me. I can't—I can't—I can't—"

"You're fine," he says in a soothing voice, taking my hand. "You're safe, yes? No one can hurt you here. You're safe."

Tears fill my eyes because that's so often not true. I allow myself to think that things are going to be fine, and then something catastrophic happens and proves I will never truly be all right or safe. Like my father who is in Azkaban. I thought he was safe and look what happened to him. I thought Zoe was safe, and she's dead now because of it. How can anything possibly be fine when nothing ever works out the way I need it to? Severus is next. He'll take Severus from me next, and he'll make me watch.

"Charlotte, you're safe. I won't let anything happen to you. Listen to me, I won't—"

"I know—I know that—so why—am I—"

"Stay right here," he says calmly. "Don't move."

Severus starts off the bed, and suddenly the idea of being without him, even though I pushed him away a moment ago, strikes an unexplainable fear into my heart that rips through me in the form of a strained sob and won't allow me to willingly let go of his hand. "Don't—don't leave me—like this—I can't—please don't—"

"I'll be right back." He gently pries my hand from his and leaves the room. Tears just start flowing heavily down my cheeks while I choke in some breaths, unable to properly sob that he has just abandoned me.

Almost as quickly as he disappeared, he's back by my side, the mattress dipping with his weight as he closes the gap between us to lift me into a sitting position. "Drink this." He places a vial to my lips, and I drink it immediately.

"What—what is it?"

"It'll help you relax."

I nod and close my eyes, enjoying the warmth spreading over me. Very slowly, the potion sets into my system, settling into my bones, releasing my tense muscles. Severus slides closer to me and puts his hand on my neck. "Your heartbeat is slowing." He watches me closely for a moment. "Do you feel better? Your breathing is less erratic."

"I do—I do."

He rests his forehead against my temple and cups my cheek in his hand. "Are you all right?"

"I don't know—I'm calming at least."

He kisses the corner of my mouth before pulling away and watching me for a moment. "What are you worried about?"

"Everything," I say, closing my eyes and letting myself enjoy the potion running through me. "I'm so scared." I wrap my arms around him and pull him as tightly against me as I possibly can. "But I'm starting to relax from the potion, so thank you."

"I'll be right back." He gets off the bed and disappears into the bathroom.

I close my eyes back, lean heavily against the headboard, and pull the sheets over me, my body growing chilly now. What would I do without him? Don't think about it. Severus returns a few minutes later and crawls back under the sheets with me, then takes my hand. "Are you all right?" he asks again.

I exhale. "I think so, actually." My lungs readily accept air once more. I meet his eyes. "Thanks to you, of course." A grin comes to my face. "So why don't you tell me about this potion you drugged me with?"

"Drugged you?" he asks, his voice appalled. "How dare you insinuate something so horrible? Would I ever do something like that?"

I laugh—I mean, really, actually laugh at him and the look of complete innocence on his face. "You're my favorite person to be around, Severus. I really hope you know that."

"I had my suspicions."

The potion works its magic on me and starts to make me feel worlds better. I'm happy and relaxed and as safe as I can be. A smile comes to my face as peace settles over me.

I lean over and kiss him, swelling with joy that I actually get to do this, that I actually get to sleep in Severus's chambers and kiss him and be friends with him and have these sorts of conversations with him. How did I manage to find this kind of luck in the hellstorm that is my life?

"I—I want to go back to sleep. Could . . . could you hold me?" Despite the potion's calming effects, my limbs tremble terribly, and my chest still aches. You're not in danger here. You're not in danger here.

He nods and then allows me to slide down into the sheets and rest my head on his chest. His arm reflexively comes around me, and I place my hand on his stomach. "Thank you," I whisper. "Thank you."

Severus absentmindedly rubs my arm. Though he's silent, I know he's awake, but he does not try to speak to me. Instead, he lets me fall back to sleep.

Severus is already up by the time I wake up the next morning, but he's still lying on the bed. I've moved away from him at some point in my sleep, and now he lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling, his fingers laced together on his abdomen. I watch him for a moment. "What are you thinking about?" I ask quietly.

He looks at me quickly, almost startled at the sound of my voice. "I actually wasn't thinking at all," he says. "I'm relaxing."

"Relaxing?" I slide closer to him and put my hand over his.

His head turns toward me. "It will be a stressful day. I have to send you to the Collins' house today so that you can get Gideon Collins's hair. I don't care much for the thought because I know what happens once everything is in place, but it needs to be done. Because I know how important it is to you."

"Let's not talk about that right now," I say. "That's a stressful situation for the future. Let's just enjoy our Saturday morning right now, yeah? Have the elves made breakfast yet?"

Severus pushes himself upright, and I follow his lead. "I think they have."

With a wave of his wand, the food appears on the bed, and the candles and torches light up the room. "Good, because I am starving. Panicking wore me out. Well, actually, I think you wore me out." I wink at him, and his cheeks redden slightly though he keeps a stoic face.

"You're young. You'll bounce back. If I can, you can."

"Are you saying you're not tired?" I ask, taking a bite of bacon. He shrugs, and I frown at him. "What potion are you taking to stay lively?"

He watches me pointedly but only takes a bite of toast instead of answering me. A few moments later, he says, "Do you want to talk about what happened last night?"

I close my eyes for half a second. "A nightmare set me off." He waits patiently as I recount the full thing to him, his face remaining stoic and unbothered. "It's the second time Bellatrix in a dream has known about us. In the last one, the one Daphne had to wake me from, she—she was torturing my father in an Azkaban-like cell and had a spot beside him for someone else. She threatened to put you there and wanted to spend a few days cutting off your cock and any other piece of you that has touched me."

Severus reaches over and touches my hand. "The last person I will ever fear harming me is Bellatrix Lestrange, I assure you."

I look at him through teary eyes. "How can you be so blasé about this?"

"Because those are just dreams. Nightmares. I have experience fighting your mother, and I do not fear my chances of overcoming or escaping her."

I nod, choosing to accept his words as fact, trying to put this behind me.

We spend a short time eating breakfast together before I summon parchment, ink, and a quill to myself, then Conjure up a flat surface on my lap for me to bear down on.

This letter should be easy to write since it's only to Rabastan, but I am struggling—the biggest issue is finding the right way to phrase my words so the whole plan remains a secret. What if someone intercepts the letter and everything is exposed? What if my desire to free my father actually ends up destroying everything Severus has worked so hard to accomplish?

Using names would be too risky, as would mentioning anything to do with Azkaban. With a sigh, I force my quill to the paper and hope the words flow out of me. Nothing really comes to me, besides a short, pointless rambling. The best idea here is not to do anything, not to say anything that could be construed as something against Voldemort and not to hint at anything that implies our attempt to free Rodolphus. Our plans absolutely cannot be foiled right now, not when we haven't even really gotten to try it yet. My father needs me.

Uncle,

I need to meet with you about your cousin. I know what's going on, and I need to speak with you about it. The next Hogsmeade weekend is the fourteenth of February. I'll meet you at the cottage.

Aurelia

Surely that's vague enough that if anyone were to see it, they wouldn't question anything. No one knows about Aurelia, so surely that won't give anything away. With any luck, he'll infer exactly what the letter means will await me at Lestrange Cottage to at least give me a chance to speak with him.

I let Severus look over it. "It's vague enough that no one will know what it means should they find it but gives enough information that Rabastan will know exactly what you're talking about," he says. "You should go ahead and send it. Then . . . head to the Collins'."

"Or do that other way around."

He blinks at me, unamused.

"But, you know," I say, folding up the letter and putting everything aside, "I should probably shower and everything first. Heaven forbid I be seen around Hogwarts looking like this."

"Looking like what?" he asks, an odd, charmingly innocent lilt in his voice.

I meet his eye and deadpan, "Like I've been well-fucked." A startled laugh escapes him, and I reach over, take his hand in mine, and kiss the back of it. "I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from." I grin at him, happy to be able to make him laugh. "But in all seriousness, I think I should shower before I do anything else." I slide off the bed and go toward the bathroom, almost able to feel him watching me walk away, but stop at the doorway and turn back to him. "Would you like to join me?"

A bit of concern in my gut over whether any of this will actually allow us to successfully free my father from Azkaban, I step into the Owlery. As always, Milo flies down to me and nibbles at my fingers before coming to a rest on my shoulder. "Hello, my love," I say to him. "Are you ready to deliver a letter for me?"

He flaps his wings excitedly and nibbles at my earlobe. "Brilliant." He climbs onto my hand, and I tie the short letter to his little leg. "Rabastan Lestrange at the Lestrange Estate." I rub the top of his head, and he flies away. I wait until he's just a speck in the sky, then rush down to the second-floor girls' bathroom so I can Apparate back to Severus's quarters.

He's waiting patiently, fully dressed, when I arrive. "You're running low on time," he says, an amused smirk on his face.

I cover myself with the Disillusionment Charm. "Yeah, well, last I checked, you were the one who followed me the bathroom and wasted time earlier."

I hear his laughter as I Apparate away, appearing beside the little pond outside the Collins' house. There seems to be no one inside, but I head to the door just to make sure that the house is truly empty. My heart sinks when I see Mrs. Collins wandering around the inside. Of course. Why wouldn't she be here right now? Where else would she be? It's Saturday. She begins laughing, and that's when I see Mrs. Mitchells with Matthew in the kitchen.

I'll have to time this properly so as not to get caught. Because my Apparition is not silent like Voldemort's or nearly as quiet as Narcissa's, when Mrs. Collins turns her back toward the living room, I use a quick spell to tip over one of the chairs and use the sound of that clatter to hide the pop! of my Apparition into their house. When no one looks around or questions anything due to the distraction of trying to figure out what happened to the chair, I take it as a sign my plan worked.

"Is Matthew's magic already acting up?" Mrs. Mitchells asks, pressing a kiss to the top of the young boy's head. "Julia didn't start accidentally using magic until she was almost six. For a while, her father and I worried that she might be a Squib."

"She's doing just fine now, it seems."

I dodge into Mr. and Mrs. Collins' bedroom and quietly make my way to their bathroom. Two brushes sit on the counter, one with loads of long hair in it, and one with almost nothing in it. I assume the brush with less hair is Mr. Collins's. I pull out a few pieces, then Disapparate once more, not caring if they hear me this time since I won't be in the house to deal with the fallout of it anyway.

When I arrive in Severus's chambers once more, he is still standing there waiting for me. "That didn't take nearly as long as I feared it would."

"Unlike you, I know how to break and enter quickly, Severus."

The corner of his lip twitches. "Meaning they didn't really expect anything, so it's not like you had to explain anything to them, which means you were able to get in and out without any unnecessary stops along the way."

"Yeah, basically. They might have heard me leave, but they won't know it's me." I hold up the hair that I stole. "Will this be enough?"

He takes the hairs and slides them into an empty vial. "It's enough."

"Excellent. I disliked breaking into their house. Felt wrong to intrude like that."

"Funny. You had no issues intruding on me like that at—"

"It was different when I was at Spinner's End." I smile at him. "Besides, where would you and I be had I not done that, hmm? Certainly not standing here right now because we'd still hate each other. Anyway, it's Saturday, so I might want to make an appearance around the castle at least once. I'll go to lunch and dinner with Daphne and the others." I take a step closer to him. "But could I come back here around curfew?"

"Yes."

I reach up and press a kiss to his lips.

Having avoided all questions regarding my whereabouts this morning because they don't need to know and lying to them is definitely not my favorite thing, I wave goodbye to my friends after lunch and make my way to Professor McGonagall's office. This wasn't originally part of my plan, but while sitting in the Great Hall and feeling my chest grow tight as Ella spoke of her parents, I realized that I wanted to ask for McGonagall's advice and there was no reason not to allow myself to do so.

She calls for me to enter after a short knock, and I push the door open. "Good afternoon, Professor," I say with a smile. Why does it feel like it's been so long since I've spoken to her?

"Good afternoon. Do you need something?"

"Actually, yes." I take a seat in front of her desk. "Something happened last night, and I have some questions about it." She furrows her brow. "I—I woke up in a panic. I mean, I couldn't breathe, and my heart was racing. This—it happened the other day as well, and Daphne had to put me into a Bewitched Sleep. And then, at lunch just now, Ella started talking about her parents, and my chest grew tight, and I almost went into that panicked state again."

"What did you do last night to calm down?"

"I—took a potion, but I don't know what potion because Se-Snape gave it to me. I went to him to get help, him being the Death Eater in the castle who doesn't actively try to harm me. So, I was wondering—well, would Madam Pomfrey know what he gave me? Would I be able to take any of it down to the dormitory with me so I don't have to find him?" Severus could obviously give me more, but part of me wants McGonagall to assure me that other students have gone through this as well, that she's seen this happen before, that I am not crazy.

Instead, she says, "It's probably a better idea to figure out what exactly is wrong with you rather than—"

"I know what's wrong with me," I say. "I'm stressed and beginning to panic because of everything the Dark Lord is doing to me. Not to mention the fact that every time I think I'm safe, something happens: my father is thrown into Azkaban, my mother admits that she's fine with—" I stop and shake my head. "I can't fight the Dark Lord because he's just going to hurt me worse." And that's not even touching the subject of my death. So talk to her about that—it'll make you feel better to talk with someone other than Severus who does not want you to die.

I can't do that, can't keep burdening her with this.

"Rodgers—"

"I'm sorry, talking about it made me realize what I have to do. I just have to confront it." Confronting Voldemort or my mother will never happen, but this conversation needs to end now before I pile more of my own issues unfairly onto her. It was a mistake to come here in the first place. "Besides, that panic doesn't happen often, so I doubt it's serious. I had just—I had just—I'm fine. I'm sorry to have bothered you with this."

I spend another hour in her office, dodging questions she asks about what I've just said. Slowly, she begins to realize that I'm truly not going to talk about it and eventually lets it go. So we simply "chat" or whatever, me doing my best to convince her that I'm fine, but despite my cheery tone and my smile, my heart is heavy. And I know why: my death. It scares the piss out of me, and knowing that my mother is fine with it—well, that just makes it worse.

After leaving McGonagall's office, I go down to the common room and immediately pull Daphne aside. She follows me up to the dormitory, leaving our confused friends behind. I crawl onto my bed and pull the curtains around the two of us, then wave my wand to keep our conversation as quiet as possible.

A tear slips down my cheek before I even have a chance to speak. "So there's something that's been weighing in my chest that I need to say because my own mother doesn't care and I don't know how to handle this. I mean, some people know but it's not the same because my own mother is—"

"Charlotte," she says gently, reaching out and taking my hand. "What's wrong?"

I take a deep breath. "If the Dark Lord succeeds in impregnating me, he'll kill me after I've had the baby."

Her face drops. "What?"

"You heard me," I whisper. "I'm going to die. It's been decided."

She slides closer to me and wraps her arms around me. "You can't be serious."

I hide my face in the crook of her shoulder. "My mum didn't care," I cry. "She didn't care. She's happy—proud that I'm going to die for him."

Daphne holds me tighter. "Is there anything—"

"My father wants to help me."

"And he's in Azkaban. Which explains why you're so desperate to get him out." I nod against her, unable to speak. "I'll do everything I can to help you," she says softly. "I will. I hope you know that. I'll help you run away."

My own mother doesn't care as much about me as a friend does. A friend I only met a few years ago. My mother doesn't care about me half as much as Daphne does. Why does she hate me so much? Why doesn't she care about me at all?

"You won't have to die. We'll find a way to smuggle you out of Hogwarts if it comes down to it. I'm not planning to have to bury my best friend."

But if I disappear, Voldemort will likely punish those I care the most about. And I can't do that to them.

The answer is clear and is probably the reason I've grown so fearful. There's only one way to protect my friends and everyone I care about: I have to die.