Armilla

Chapter 44

On New Year's Eve I woke up in an extremely good mood. I was going home the next day! I wouldn't have to see my father's face until the summer. I wouldn't have to see Jiffy's ugly little squashed face for months. I wouldn't have to memorise pointless old books. And I wouldn't have to put up with that damned governess. I could go back to Snape and not worry about ridiculous dinner parties where other pureblood families sized me up as a potential wife for their sons.

As I had predicted while conversing with Snape, I had spent the whole of the previous day in the library memorising books under Rougier's stern eye. I hadn't seen Father the entire day - he'd gone out visiting friends and hadn't felt the need to take me with him...thankfully. When discussing the day with Snape the night before, he had seemed happy that I hadn't left the house with the man.

I couldn't wait to go home to Hogwarts. Once I got back, it seemed that all I had to worry about was my OWLs, being polite to Malfoy without offending Pansy, and the occasional letter from Father. I would keep going down to Snape's quarters (no, our quarters) on a Friday night and life could generally get better. It would be icing on the cake if I could stop seeing Shar's face in my mind every time Merle's face wandered in...but as Snape had said, it would take time.

As I made my way to the dining room for dinner, I smiled as I reminded myself that this time tomorrow I would be back at Hogwarts with Snape. Even though I had spoken to him every night since my arrival at Snape Manor, I longed to see my brother in person. I didn't know why I was so eager...it wasn't as if we were inseparable or anything. We often didn't talk to each other much even if we were in the same room and besides being members of the same family I didn't think we had that much in common. I couldn't put my finger on the reason...but the thought of seeing Snape again made me feel really happy.

I was surprised to hear voices as I approached the dining room door. One voice was my father's, obviously, but the other voice certainly didn't belong to Jiffy. It was a lot deeper than Jiffy's voice. As I entered the room, I saw that the voice belonged to a wizard I hadn't seen before. He was a tall man who I guessed to be in his mid fifties, with short ginger hair and a goatee that curled into two ringlets at the bottom. His dark eyes seemed to stand out in an unnatural way against his pale skin. He wore scarlet robes that clashed terribly with his hair.

Upon hearing me come in, the man immediately fixed me with a piercing stare, his look calculating.

"Ah, Armilla," said Father vaguely, looking at me briefly before returning his gaze to the wizard next to him. "Armilla, this is a friend of mine, Horsnell Coleman. He was unable to attend our dinner part the other night so he has just...ah...dropped in for dinner."

I walked further into the room as Mr. Coleman came forward with his arm outstretched. Behind the man's back, Father narrowed his eyes and I couldn't work out whether he was annoyed at me or his friend.

"Pleased to meet you, sir," I said as I shook Mr. Coleman's hand.

"I've been looking forward to meeting you, young lady," he said in a low voice. His lips barely moved as he spoke. "It was unfortunate that I could not attend the other night. But no matter...no, no matter at all. This way I will be able to give you my full attention."

"Your full attention, sir?" I had no idea what the man was going on about.

"Dinner!" said my father briskly, moving between Coleman and I and ushering me to my seat.

Hmm...something fishy was certainly afoot. Better get a detective on the case. Where was my brother when I needed him? Very well, I had better be my own detective.

"Your father tells me that you're a fifth year at Hogwarts, Armilla," said Coleman a few minutes after we had begun eating.

"Yes, sir," I replied. Father's fork had paused halfway between his plate and his mouth when Coleman had addressed me. He had watched me carefully out of the corner of his eye as I had answered. I was starting to feel unnerved.

"And what house are you in?"

"Ravenclaw, sir."

"Ah! Fancy that, Aurelius!" said Coleman, smiling at Father. "Just like Hazel. Like mother like daughter, eh?"

"Yes," Father replied quietly, staring at his plate.

"I suppose you are studying hard for your OWLs then, child?"

"Yes, sir." I hated being called 'child'. Snape had done it for a brief amount of time after we had found out about being related. He had gradually stopped after we had become more comfortable in each other's presence. I had thought that he had initially done it subconsciously as a way of putting a barrier between us; a way of reminding me that though we were brother and sister, he was the adult and I was the child.

"And what are your career aspirations?"

Father looked directly at me now, but his face gave nothing away. It was just a blank stare...but somehow I knew that this was an important man and my answers would be carefully weighed.

"I have not put a great deal of thought into a career, sir," I said honestly. It was true. I had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do after Hogwarts. "I have just been concentrating on the content in each of my subjects." Out of the corner of my eye, Father gave the slightest nod.

"How are your defence skills?"

"I have not had a great deal of practice sir, but I believe they are adequate for what is expected of a witch at my age."

Again, Father gave a slight nod. Though I had no idea what was going on, at least my answers were acceptable to Father.

Coleman now addressed himself to Father. "Have you tested your daughter's defence skills, Aurelius?"

Father shook his head. "No, I have not."

"Strange. I seem to remember that when your son was this age you were very intent on him demonstrating perfection in everything related to the subject." Coleman leaned back in his chair, surveying Father closely.

"I did." Father replied simply. "I trained Severus very early on."

"I remember," said Coleman, inclining his head. "So why not Armilla?" He lowered his voice to a mere whisper. "Do you not have the same...intentions...for your daughter?"

Intentions? If I hadn't been occluding so hard I was sure I would have brought up all my dinner by now. This man was creepy.

"I do not believe that Armilla is suited to that path, Horsnell," said Father, looking at Coleman with an extremely serious expression. "By that, I do not mean to imply that I will educate her against the cause. I believe she can serve our kind in other ways."

Coleman looked sceptical. "How so?" he asked, his eyebrows raised.

"By marrying into the right pureblood family and producing pureblood children with our morals. You might have noticed, Horsnell, that the pureblood members of the community do not make up the numbers that they once did?' Father's tone now had a bite to it. "More and more witches are engaging in careers and are less interested in marrying and producing children, especially the pureblood ones."

"You're paranoid, my dear friend," said Coleman, smiling.

"Am I?" said Father harshly. "Do tell me, Horsnell, how many witches in our Master's service have failed to produce children to bring up according to the Dark Lord's morals?"

Coleman grunted. "Not many."

"Not many?" Father scoffed. "Freda Kirkland? Giselle Morley? Abigail Ferandan? Liza McDougall? Bellatrix Lestrange? Estella Dzminski? I can go on-"

"No, no," Coleman interrupted, raising his hand. "You've made your point. Though I might add, Aurelius, that it might have been hard for Bellatrix to raise a family in Azkaban."

"The pureblood families are dying out, Horsnell," said Father fiercely, his voice rising. "All these witches have given up their lives for the service of the Dark Lord. Do you not think that the Dark Lord can be honoured on a higher level if witches of the next generation served him by producing pureblood children to follow his teachings?"

"Well, I suppose..."

"I mean, I will admit that some of these women currently in the Dark Lord's service have done admirable jobs," said Father. "But I firmly believe that their place should be in the home, bringing up children to increase our number. When the time is up for these Death Eaters who will replace them? Tell me that!"

"Alright, Aurelius," said Coleman, sounding exasperated. "You have made your point."

Father heaved a deep sigh. He was furious.

We ate the rest of the meal in complete silence. I found it extremely uncomfortable. Every now and then, Coleman would glance in my direction and this would mean that Father would immediately watch me out of the corner of his eye. I didn't know what he wanted me to do.

At the conclusion of the meal, Coleman broke the silence.

"I have my orders, Aurelius. Do you wish me to break them?"

Father sighed. "No, Horsnell. Of course not."

"I am glad of that." Coleman stood up. "I am going to freshen up. Shall I meet you in the parlour down that hall in a few minutes?"

"Very well," Father murmured, placing his own knife and fork on his plate.

Coleman nodded and strode from the room. Father and I sat in silence as we heard the man's footsteps fade away, and then the unmistakable sound of a door closing.

Father took out his wand and cast a number of non-verbal spells. He turned back to me with a very serious expression on his face.

"Armilla, you are to listen to me very carefully."

I nodded, occluding hard to keep my panic from rising. Why were we meeting Coleman in the parlour in a few minutes? What were we going to do?

"Horsnell Coleman is one of the Dark Lord's most faithful servants," said Father, his black eyes fixed on mine. "He is especially prized by our Master because of his ability for talent spotting. Some of the most skilled Death Eaters were hand-picked by Horsnell to undergo the Dark Lord's training."

I swallowed. I knew what Father was getting at, but I still didn't want to hear it.

"The Dark Lord knows of your existence of course," he went on. "And now he has sent Horsnell to test you for any natural ability in the Dark Arts area. Severus possessed that ability, you see, and I suppose he is interested as to whether you share your brother's talent." Father sneered slightly, having admitted that his son had talent.

"I have not tested you on this knowledge because I firmly believe your future should not take place as a Death Eater. You heard my reasons for this just now. But rest assured that producing children in the Dark Lord's honour would be held in high esteem."

Well, thanks for that. Have children for the Dark Lord's honour? Could the man hear himself?

Father leaned forward and grasped my wrist very tightly. "Horsnell means to test you, Armilla. He wants to see how well you duel and how much nerve you have."

Well, my ability to control my emotions was certainly getting a workout now. How strange it was that I had woken up in such a good mood. Perhaps I had jinxed myself.

"Armilla, I do not know what ability you possess in this area, but you are not to excel," said Father fiercely. "If you demonstrate a sufficient level of talent then Coleman will recommend you to the Dark Lord as a potential Death Eater...and I will have no choice but to hand you over because my Master's word is law."

I think my heart skipped a beat.

"If you appear weaker, then Coleman may not bother recommending you and I will have a better time convincing my Master of my plan for your future."

Yes, my heart certainly skipped a beat then. Dire straits indeed.

"I can't appear too weak, Father," I said, "or he will know that I'm putting it on."

"Show some aptitude," said Father nodding, "but just look as if you lose confidence or your nerve easily. The Dark Lord still prizes witches weaker in skill, as long as they bring up their children with the right mindset."

I nodded. My heart felt as if it was pumping down at my feet.

"Come," said Father, standing up. He waved his wand again to put a stop to whatever charms he had just cast.

I followed him out of the room and into the parlour down the hall. Coleman came in about twenty seconds after we had entered.

I immediately felt a blow just above my left elbow. The maniac had decided to attack upon entering. And I wasn't allowed to defend myself properly...and in a strange way, I was okay with that. I could put up with a load of injuries now if it meant that I would not be handed over to the Dark Lord.

I took my wand and turned to face my predator. I was disadvantaged now anyway because my left arm was injured - I was left-handed.

"Snide," said Father in a low tone, looking at Coleman with a blank expression. "Quite snide, Horsnell, to attack upon entering and catch my daughter off-guard."

"Well, it was an easy job I must say," Coleman replied coldly. "She obviously is not trained to hear possible prowlers approaching."

"She probably thought that it was our dinner guest returning from the bathroom," said Father, raising an eyebrow. "I've never seen you take out your wand ready for attack when I've returned from the bathroom whilst at your house. It would seem quite rude, don't you think so?"

Coleman laughed. "I suppose, Aurelius. Always politically correct aren't you?"

"Hmph," was Father's reply.

"I want to test you on your duelling skills, Armilla," said Coleman vaguely. He didn't seem inclined to offer any further explanation.

"Furnunculus!" he cried.

On instinct, from all my practice with Snape, I immediately moved my wand to block the spell, but as I did so, remembered what saving myself meant and so I added an extra movement my wand, causing the shield to become lop-sided and fail. The spell hit me on the stomach and it wasn't long before I could feel a few boils erupting on my skin.

"Well it seems you know a shield charm, but knowledge alone won't help you, child," said Coleman maliciously. "You need to have timing and nerve. Densaugeo!"

This time I dodged the jinx, whilst casting the impediment jinx. I was successful in slowing down the movements of Coleman and I made a half-hearted attempt at disarming him when I realised that he had ended my jinx. He pointed his wand at me again. "Locomotor Mortis!"

My acting skills made it look as if I realised too late that I had to get out of the way. The spell hit me and my legs were left stiff and rigid.

"Well, well, not very impressive at all," said Coleman lazily. "How will you get yourself out of this one?"

I looked down (which took great courage because Snape had taught me very early on to never lose sight of my opponent) and I ended the spell acting on my legs. Predictably, Coleman took advantage of me looking away and he cried out a trip jinx which made me fall over. God, I felt stupid. I was so glad that Snape wasn't here to watch. It was embarrassing.

Twenty humiliating minutes later, Coleman announced that he had finished. By that time, I had more boils than I cared to admit, I had cuts up and down both arms, nausea, a splitting headache and perhaps worst of all, itchy and sore eyes. Coleman had cast the conjunctivitis curse on me and I could barely open my eyes wide enough to see clearly. I must have looked a mess. I certainly felt it at any length. I wanted to be sick.

Father had remained silent throughout the entire 'session'. I expected no sympathy to come from him in regards to my injuries. He was, after all, responsible for injuring me before without having any qualms about it.

I had blocked Coleman's spells a few times, so I didn't look altogether ridiculous. But I had certainly made it seem as if I possessed no natural talent.

"Well, Aurelius," said Coleman, pocketing his wand. "What a disadvantage that Armilla was not brought up by you. I fear that her skills have not been well developed."

"So I see," Father replied in a cold tone, sending me a filthy look. "I daresay the muggle-lover who brought her up didn't care for proper duelling skills."

"Well Severus remains a credit to you at any rate," said Coleman, eyeing Father with interest.

Father stared at him, glaring. "You think so, do you?" He turned to look at me. "Armilla you are excused. Go and wash and then go to bed."

"Yes, sir," I murmured. I found it very hard to see clearly. As I passed Coleman, I said goodnight, though I really wished the man nothing but ill.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o

"Good lord, look at you," said Rougier as I entered my bedroom. "Not so talented after all, I see!" She let out a cold laugh. "Heavens child, there's puss coming out of your eyes!"

"Is there something you wanted?" I said, pushing threatening tears away.

"That's no way to speak to your governess."

"Maybe not, but it's certainly the way to speak to a painted old hag like you!" I yelled. I was not going to cry. My eyes were sore and my head felt like there was a fierce war going on inside it.

I felt a sharp blow on my right shoulder as Rougier struck me with her wand.

"You insolent, pig-headed child!" Rougier spat. "I will not be spoken to like that. You can forget about asking me to heal those injuries for you."

"As if you would have!" I retorted as she flounced from the room. I stood alone in the room, just staring at the door that Rougier had just slammed shut. I didn't know how long I stood there, but it must have been ages. I could hear footsteps approaching again and a moment later my door was flung open. Father burst in, looking outraged.

"Armilla! Explain yourself at once! I have just been informed that you insulted your governess just as she was trying to help you! Well? What have you to say?"

"She wasn't going to help me," I said meekly.

"How dare you treat her that way!" Father looked furious, though I thought most of his fury had been built up from dinnertime. "Your behaviour was unacceptable, Armilla, and I have a good mind to let you cope with all those injuries yourself!"

I said nothing. I didn't trust myself.

Father glared at me. It seemed that he took my silence as impertinence, for a moment later he took out his wand and waved it in my direction. I turned on instinct to dodge it, knowing I would be in more trouble if I used my wand, but somehow it ended up hitting me in the back. Pain unlike any other I had felt before burst through my entire being and I grabbed onto the bedpost to stop myself falling to the floor.

"Goodnight," said Father coldly. He walked back out the door, closing it with a snap behind him.

My knees buckled and I collapsed onto the floor, letting the tears flow out. The pain in my back was unbearable. I only lasted there a few seconds before I had to run to the bathroom to be sick...I felt so sick.

Sobbing, I took out my wand and held it in my injured left hand and clumsily tried to subdue the pain and the rush of blood I could feel. It took several attempts to stop the flow of blood, but I couldn't rid myself of the pain. I managed to subdue it slightly. I tried to enunciate through my sobs as I set out healing the rest of my injuries. I rid myself of the boils and cuts easily, but the conjunctivitis was not so easy to clear up. In the end, I managed to clear away the infection, but not the redness or itchiness of my eyes. Even the headache-clearing charm Snape had taught me didn't seem to work to its best effect. Thought, admittedly, I wasn't in the best shape to be healing myself anyway.

I had a shower - and tried not to cringe at the pain when the water touched my back. Every time I felt it, I wanted to hex my father with the worst hexes I knew.

But it was all okay. Snape was coming in the morning. I wouldn't have to put up with all this for much longer.

I felt so stupid. I wanted to go home. I wanted to get out of here. I wanted my brother.

I climbed into bed, my only relief being that I could at least talk to him through the chocolate frog card before tomorrow. As I picked up the card, I noticed that the wizard on the front was waving to me. That was odd. Snape usually waited for me to contact him. I accessed the message and could scarcely believe the words that appeared on the card.

I won't be able to talk to you tonight - something has come up. I will see you tomorrow.

He must have been called by the Dark Lord. The thought of it made me want to be sick all over again. I lay down, hoping against hope that Coleman had told his master that I wasn't worth bothering about. What if the Dark Lord had called Snape to ask his opinion of my skills?

Snape must have been in a less desirable situation than I right now, but I was so crushed that I couldn't talk to him. Fresh tears made themselves known and I winced with pain every time I moved. I was so miserable...but I was going home tomorrow. I sobbed anyway through my mixed bursts of misery and happiness. I was going home tomorrow...but I was currently being weighed up as a potential Death Eater that no one had any say in if the Dark Lord required it.

As the clock chimed twelve times, bringing in the New Year, I fell into a feverish doze, wondering if the coming year would be more unpredictable than the last.