CHAPTER 24

Daphne and I sit on her bed, the curtains pulled, spells around us to keep everything quiet. I sit at the foot of the bed, facing where she sits at the head of the bed. In the area between us looms a mountain of uneaten Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Cauldron Cakes, Green Apple Strips, and Peppermint Toads. Beside that is a hefty pile of discarded wrappers. "I honestly didn't mean to buy all of this." Her voice is a whisper despite the spells around the bed that keep our conversation muffled from eavesdroppers. "It just . . . sort of happened."

"Were you starving?" I ask as I open a Cauldron Cake, not really caring about her reasoning for buying all of this but feeling supremely grateful she decided to share once more.

She shrugs. "I mean, maybe. Everything looked so, so good."

She's not wrong, of course. Even right now, it all looks completely delicious despite the slowly growing ache in my stomach. I take a bite of the cake, and my eyes close themselves without my full permission. "And it is. I'm going to get sick soon, but I can't stop."

Daphne laughs good-naturedly. "I can take them all away if you—"

I snatch a Chocolate Frog from the pile. "No." Unbidden rises the memory of the Christmas I spent with Bellatrix and the obnoxious amount of sweets we had. She once said that she believed she should have her own Chocolate Frog card. I wonder, if Voldemort had never risen to power, would my mother have actually gone on to do something magnificent enough to earn a card for herself? Would she have been a good person? Would I even be here? If given the choice, I might trade my life if it meant that she could have led a better one, one where she was not a Death Eater. Because that also means that Severus never would've joined the Death Eaters, as there would be no such thing, which means his life would be fuller, happier. Perhaps he would've married Lily and had a child with her. Lily. For his life to be truly happy, it always comes back to her. And I despise her for it.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Whatever you're thinking about is clearly beginning to upset you, so stop thinking about it."

I smile at her, quietly thankful that she distracted me from what would undoubtedly have been a saddening train of thought—any time I think about how things could have been different had Voldemort never been an issue, I tend to grow sad and can't really redirect my thoughts. Things would be so much better for so many people I love—and they'd be so much better for me as well. I can't imagine what it would feel like to be an actual student at Hogwarts who showed up at eleven years old and lived a normal life. I'd be out of Hogwarts now, perhaps working as an Obliviator or at least training to be one. "So, did you finish the essay for Flitwick yet?"

"No, I was going to work on it tonight, but this needy friend of mine wanted to chat and eat candy. So that's what I'm doing now."

"Shut up."

Daphne eyes the mountain of sweets still uneaten. "Perhaps we should pace ourselves though. This stash has to last us until the end of term, you know. I doubt there will be another Hogsmeade trip any time soon."

The thought disappoints me because in the back of my mind I just assumed we would be forcing all of this down right now and leaving none for later, but that's not the best idea if we plan to make this last any longer than this weekend. Besides, getting sick today is not really at the top of the list of things I'd like to do. "Regrettably, you have a point." I wave my wand over the wrappers to vanish them while Daphne reaches behind herself and pulls forth a small bag into which she begins shoving the sweets. I frown as the last few pieces are stashed away.

She grins at me and says, "But perhaps I can write my mum and have her send me more if we run out."

"Now there's a plan." But now that the sweets are gone, I realize suddenly that I absolutely do not want anymore. My stomach is already roiling.

"So how long do you have before you need to run off?"

"What—"

"It's the end of the month, Charlotte. I know the schedule."

"Right. The Dark Lord has been trying to minimize my time at the manor lately, so there's a chance if he's not there when I arrive in the morning that I might be able to come back for a bit before being summoned away."

"Well, here's hoping he won't arrive until much later. Or perhaps it's best if he does arrive early so you can get it over with and get back."

"I'm not sure what I'd prefer." I raise my wand and cast the Disillusionment Charm over myself. "But I really should be going. Would you like to help me sneak out of the common room?"

Grinning, she throws the curtains away from the bed and hops to her feet. "It would be my pleasure."

Daphne leads the way down the stairs, me following closely behind her and basically plastered against the wall. The sight of the common room full and bustling with students draws a huff from me because it always feels more difficult to escape. "It's fine," she mumbles at me. "I'm with you this time, giving you a perfect window to pop out of the open door. Come on." I continue creeping close behind her as she goes toward the door. When Astoria calls her name, she simply replies with, "I'll be back in a minute. I'm going to the kitchens for some food."

I snort, immediately regretting the noise I just made even though no one seems to have noticed. Once the door closes behind us, I whisper my thanks to Daphne and rush off toward the second-floor bathroom. The spells around the castle have already been lifted by the time I reach the room, so nothing prevents me from Apparating immediately. Severus is standing in his chambers, leaning against his bed. "Twice now you've been slightly late."

"If I were truly late, I'm sure the wards would have stopped me from Apparating here. You would have raised them again to spite me."

He makes an affirmative noise but says nothing else.

"Have you got any hot cocoa? Or some butterbeer? I don't which I want, but I know that I'm still riding this sugar train and am not ready to get off just yet."

"Cold or hot butterbeer?" he asks me, seemingly fighting a smile.

"Hot cocoa and cold butterbeer."

He waves his wand, and a tray appears with both of the drinks and what I guess is an extra for him. "The kitchens almost always have some." We sit down on the sofa to enjoy our drinks. I alternate between each of mine, unsure which one I prefer in the moment. All I know is that they absolutely make me feel better—not quite as much as smashing glass made me feel, but they certainly make me feel better. They make me feel comfortable, like I'm right where I belong. "You seem in a good mood tonight, Charlotte. Has something happened?"

I shake my head and set down the mug of hot cocoa. "Not really. I just had a lot of snacks with Daphne." As I say this, my stomach churns, and I must concede that this cannot continue today. Feeling slightly disappointed, I push the drinks away and request some water, which he is more than happy to provide.

Despite how much sugar I've actually had over the past hour and how little I want those two drinks now, there's still a certain sadness in my chest when Severus vanishes the liquid and sends the mugs and the tray away. "Are you all right?" he asks me softly.

"I think so. Disappointed I ate so much I couldn't finish my drinks, but I really don't want to worry about getting sick right now."

"Perhaps next time you should pace yourself with Miss Greengrass's sweets."

I grimace at him. "I mean, you're probably right." I take a few big gulps of the water he summoned for me. "I'll do better next time, I'm sure."

He watches me skeptically. "Are you sure that's all? Are you sure something else isn't wrong with you?"

I sigh, feeling tears prick my eyes. "I don't want to go tomorrow. Obviously there's no other choice, but . . . what I wouldn't give to just stay here with you. To spend the whole day in here. I'm tired of going there, tired of being hurt, tired of fighting."

He reaches across the table and holds my hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb in an encouraging manner. "I know. If the Dark Lord would allow it, I'd let you stay here most of the day tomorrow until he's ready for you, but he likes to make you stay there—I think it's a power thing."

"I hate him so much."

"I do too."

That brings a sad smile to my face—hearing Severus say he hates Voldemort always makes me a little lighter, especially since there was a time that I actually believed Severus served Voldemort wholly and willingly and now am deeply involved in Severus's complete betrayal of the Dark Lord.

I pull at his hand. "I feel woozy. I think I need to go to sleep."

He smiles at me and stands, then offers me his hand and helps me to my feet.

Severus is awake and sitting on his sofa when I open my eyes the next morning. I stretch—a noise comes out of me, surprising both me and Severus as he looks over at me—then sit up and regret all the sugar from yesterday as a stomachache begins setting in. "Good morning." He stands and comes back to the room with a tray. "I've summoned some breakfast for you. I thought you might want to eat before you brave the manor once more."

"You didn't have to," I say, "but I really do appreciate it." He places the tray on my lap and takes a seat on his side of the bed. "Have the elves already made breakfast for the rest of the students? What time is it?"

"They made this because I asked them to. It's not seven yet."

I huff, annoyed at having woken up so early, but take a bite of oatmeal from the tray anyway. He reaches over and takes a piece of sausage for himself. "You asked them to make this for me, not you."

"Well, it's not just for you," he says, grinning down at me and biting into the sausage. "I'm human too, you realize."

"Right, right. Sometimes I forget. You know, with your constant brooding and your incredible selflessness and bravery and your ability to keep people out of your life completely, I sometimes forget you're just like the rest of us."

He picks up the second bowl of oatmeal and begins eating it. "I'm not like the rest of you."

"Don't I know it." He narrows his eyes at me. "Don't act all offended, you like being different. You like knowing that you're better than the rest of us."

"I don't think I'm better than the rest of you."

I glance over at him, unconvinced, but simply say, "I think you are." His cheeks reddening slightly, he reaches over and touches my hair, then rips one out, and I hiss at him, "Stop doing that without warning me first."

"It hurts less if you're not prepared." I stare back at him, trying to decide whether he is lying, and take an angry bite of sausage. "You don't believe me? The element of surprise always distracts a little from the pain."

"No, I don't I believe that."

He grins but doesn't answer, and we finish our breakfast together in companionable silence. Once we've had our fill of food, Severus waves away the tray and the leftovers. I would give almost anything to skip Malfoy Manor today, to just stay here with him and waste the day away doing nothing but eating and losing to him in chess and drinking butterbeer and teaching him the card games I played with Bellatrix and Narcissa, but the world is unkind to me and will not allow that at the present moment because it is time for my monthly torture. Growing impatient and annoyed at the thought, I slide off the bed, retreat to Severus's private bathroom, and start preparing for my trip to the manor.

While it doesn't take me long to finish getting ready, it's basically time to leave by the time I emerge from the room. Severus gives me his usual unhappy look before offering me his arm. "Though you have your wand again, the Dark Lord does not wish for you to Apparate anywhere without some sort of supervision. Apparently, you can't be trusted." He winks at me—he actually winks at me, and I laugh, hoping these interactions can help dispel some of the low-level bitterness lurking in my chest. "Are you ready?" Still smiling, I take his arm, then reach up and press a kiss to his lips. He furrows his brow when I pull away, that look of surprise and disbelief he wears so often when I show him any affection.

"For courage," I say. "I think I'm ready now."

His gaze shifts between each of my eyes before he quietly says, "I do believe you're rather courageous enough without my assistance, but I am happy to oblige."

I grin at him, and he looks away, then Disapparates us.

Already in the drawing room waiting for us is Bellatrix. She sneers at Severus, who doesn't say anything to her. He looks over at me, my arm still in his, and covers my hand kindly before saying, "I'll be back to retrieve you later." He pats my arm, and I release him and watch as he Disapparates, desperately wishing he did not have to leave me here right now.

Then I turn to my mother. "Bellatrix—" She takes me by the arms and pulls me forward so that she can kiss my forehead. I watch her suspiciously. What does she know that I don't?

"My darling girl," she says softly, "come on then." She takes my hand and leads me from the drawing room down to her room in the basement where a fire burns in the hearth. We sit down in the chairs before the flames, the heat warming me to my bones.

"You're watching after me again today?" I ask her.

"Yes."

"So, he's completely gotten over the whole 'you can't be around Charlotte' thing and now wants you around me?" She makes a noise but doesn't answer, and I pull my legs up into the chair to watch her for a moment. "I want to thank you, Bellatrix—Mum." She stares back at me, a smile on the corner of her lips, and I bring my wand out of my pocket. "For getting him to give me this back. I . . . would have been in a hell of a mess more than a few times in the past few weeks without it. I—just—thank you. I know you didn't have to do that." There's a part of me that is still unhappy with her, but a much larger part of me is just thankful to have my mother back—or as close to having my mother "back" as I possibly can considering who she is.

"I couldn't very well let my daughter run around Hogwarts with the Carrows and Snape without having some sort of protection, could I?" A smile comes to my face, and she just nods back. I wish I could tell her that protection from Severus is not necessary at all. "But I suppose, if your reaction the other day is anything to go by, you don't really need protection against Snape, do you?" It's like she just read my mind.

"He would never hurt me."

Then she turns her attention to the fire. The light dances on the side of her face in a way so mesmerizing that it will not let me look away, as if somehow the answer to fixing my relationship with her will soon be displayed on her cheek. Very slowly, realizing now that I am staring at her, she moves her to look at me straight on. The shadows are different now, harsher almost, than they were when she was looking into the fire, making her seem almost like a colder sort of person from this angle, and though I would never ask her to do so, I wish she'd look away from me and back into the fire once more.

"I've spoken again with the Dark Lord about where you might spend the Easter holidays." I straighten, prepared for whatever might come next. "He thinks it would be a good idea to get you out of Hogwarts for a while. He thinks—he thinks it would be . . . efficient for you to be away from the Carrows. And . . . and Snape. He wants you away from them for a short while, and Easter seems to be the best option."

"What you mean to say is that he actually wants me away from Severus, not from the Carrows, right? He wants to distance me from Severus."

"Yes. He's still displeased with your reaction to Snape's torture. He wants to separate the two of you for a while." Once you leave Hogwarts, he'll keep you separated forever. You'll die without ever seeing Severus again. He'll never let you go back. He'll lock you away, and she'll help him do it.

"What did he expect? I mean, I lived with Severus for months. He taught me so much. Was I supposed to stay indifferent to him? How could I have?"

She doesn't answer.

The good news is that I'll be away from the Carrows for the holiday, so at least there's that small consolation for having to be away from Severus. "And will I be with you for the holiday?"

"Yes."

I nod. "All right." She wants to rescue you. "That sounds good. I look forward to it." You shouldn't. You just let her back in so easily after everything she did to you.

A smile breaks across her face, and my heart clenches. I want to embrace her, to hug her, to let her know that I'm in the process of forgiving her for her past mistakes involving me, but instead we just go back to watching the fire and enjoying the warmth. After a short while, she looks over at me, something in her eye making me feel like there's someone standing behind me, ready to attack, and I glance back to ensure that we're in here alone and that I'm safe. "I want you to know," she says kindly, almost sadly, "that whatever happens, Aurel—Charlotte—"

"Aurelia."

She smiles at me, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Whatever happens, Aurelia, I only want what's best for you. I'm sorry for whatever you might face."

"What're—"

"I don't want you to suffer. I've never wanted you to suffer. You need to know that."

"Is something—"

She grabs her forearm and closes her eyes. "We're being summoned."

"Already? But I've only been here half an hour! That's not fair, I—"

"I know it's not fair," she says, standing and gesturing for me to follow her lead. Reluctantly, I stand and let her lead me away. We walk in silence as we make our way up to the room. "I'll be here when it's over." She puts her hand on my arm. "I'm supposed to take your wand."

"Excuse me?"

"I must take your wand." With an annoyed huff I reach into my pocket and take out my wand and hand it to her. Then she opens the door and waves me inside.

Neither of us speaks as I enter and she closes the door. I walk to the middle of the room, almost shaking with nerves—since when does he take my wand from me for these meetings? Since when does he want to see me this early? And why did she act so apologetic just now? After a long moment of nothing, the side door to the room opens and in walks Voldemort himself. "Charlotte." His tone is emotionless, creepy. "I take it your mother has confiscated your wand for the time being?"

I nod once, clenching my jaw.

"Your father was seen, have you heard?" He steps toward me, crowding into my space. I can feel his body heat against me and want to scream. "But he immediately went into hiding again. We were unable to locate him, and now even your dear uncle is missing."

"Lucius? I assumed he was still—"

Voldemort strikes my face, and I groan, both in frustration and pain. "You will not—"

"What? I will not what? Treat you with disresp—"

His hands wrap around my throat and he shoves me toward the wall and slams me against it. So much for his not beating me anymore. "I will only ask you this once, Charlotte, where is your father?"

"He's protected with the Fidelius Charm. You can't find him."

Voldemort throws me to the floor. "Then perhaps you can send a message to him for me. Crucio!"

My body flails to get away, and just like every other time someone has used this spell on me, everything goes black. Everything blanks. There is only nothingness and my screams and the pain that attacks every atom of my body. I screech for mercy that he would never give, cry for help that will never come, but that doesn't stop me from trying anyway.

Then, suddenly, the curse releases me, and I am left gasping for air, tears running down my cheeks. "Please," I cry, "please stop. You don't have to do this. I'll—"

He waves his wand at me again. A grotesque cracking sound reaches my ears at the exact moment a sharp, unbearable pain shoots up my leg and engulfs my body in agony. I shriek and go to grab my leg but stop when another burst of pain shoots through me. "Please!" I wail. That bastard broke my leg! My breathing quickens when he takes a step toward me. He places his foot on my broken leg, and I cry out, turning my head to the side and vomiting.

Voldemort crouches down toward me. "You can tell him that every time you step foot into this manor while he is still in hiding will end with your torture rather than his." His hand wraps around my throat once more, and he sneers at me, then starts to force me to my feet..

I whimper at the weight on my broken leg. "What about trying to conceive under these circumstances? Didn't you yourself tell me—" Voldemort pins me against the side of the bed with the full weight of his body, and my chest constricts. I can't breathe, I can't breathe. This wasn't the deal, this wasn't the deal. He can't do this. It was always supposed to be magic. Then he reaches into his pocket to retrieve a vial of liquid. "What—what is that?"

He flicks the lid off, shoves the opening into my mouth, and pours the potion down my throat. His hand covers my mouth in an effort to make me swallow the liquid. When I continue to fight, he pinches my nose shut and waits for me to cave. Which I do. Once I've swallowed the potion, he releases me and takes a few steps away. "Is that going to kill me?" I whisper.

He stares at me with those cold red eyes. "You needn't worry about my killing you. That comes later."

My legs grow weak, and I lose the ability to stand. My vision grows dark as I smack against the floor.