Death Whispers

Chapter Eleven - Loyalty

Romania, 3rd January 1982

Rissum Rosier was not alone, bad guys never are. It was a cold night and the dark spidery trees whispered conspiratorially around the small group. They stood outside the tall doors of the castle banging for shelter. The stone walls of the castle were high and they couldn't see any light. This part of the forest was dark and deep, to Muggles the castle looked like ruins but it was as grand as ever.

Frank Longbottom nodded to his wife. He had checked everything twice and the group remained unknowing of their presence. After receiving a mysterious tip off they were prepared for an ambush on the group. Mad Eye Moody, the Ministry's famous Auror, was with them yet this did not settle Frank's nerves.

He was a very respected man, provided a brave face to the world, no one ever knew him as anything else. But his fear was tangible; his wand grip was so tight he thought he might snap his wand. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves as he watched Mad Eye move in closer securing the perimeter. It wasn't always this bad but since his wife, Catherine, had given birth to their son Neville his fear had increased tenfold.

Frank noted the group was settled in position. Mad Eye cast a small flicker of light and the three whispered a charm that cast a barrier over the area. None were able to Apparate; this worked both ways. The group hadn't noticed.

"Let us in!" demanded Rissum Rosier, thumping again on the grand doors of the castle.

"Maybe they aren't home," said Ivan quietly, looking around nervously, something felt strangely out of place. Rissum did not desist.

"The boy could be right," Mulciber agreed.

"Shut up!" Rissum spat, finally turning away from the door and looking at the men around him.

"We can split up and look for entry," Mulciber offered to avoid Rissum's wrath.

"Ureic said that the family had all but left the region," Wilkes whispered.

"That bastard cannot trick me with his deceit; he was too drunk to notice pink Hippogriffs. Anyway, that whole family is bad blood," Rissum bellowed.

"Maybe we should ask Severus? He's ok," said Ivan to his father.

"The boy is sanctioned at Hogwarts or have you all but forgotten! This is the last of the Dark Arts families, this is where he will be," Rissum snapped. The two younger boys stepped back as Rissum and Mulciber started whispering.

"The Dark Lord is here, I can feel it," Rissum was saying.

"Something is here," whispered Ivan to Wilkes, standing closer to the hiding place of Frank. Wilkes nodded at his school friend the young boys becoming nervous.

"Do you think we will find him?" asked Wilkes, his eyes darting to the bushes where he thought he heard a noise.

"Not if I have anything to do with it," said Frank and he stepped out of the bush.

"Expelliamus!" Frank shouted, as he caught the boy's wands. This spell was echoed by Catherine and Mad Eye as they jumped from their hiding places, wands drawn.

Rissum dived from Catherine's blast and tried to Disapparate.

"Can't do that mate," growled Moody, "best to come quietly now."

"Never!" Rissum shouted, throwing hexes at Moody. The young men, with lack of an alternative, ran at Frank and tried to bowl him over on the ground. Trapping his wand arm, it was a battle of hunched fists. Moody and Rissum were dueling a fierce battle while Catherine had already bound Mulciber with magic rope.

She ran to her husband protectively. Standing beside the rolling group with her wand poised, she was careful not to cast a hex on Frank. Ivan jumped up with his wand. Catherine was so shocked she faulted for just a moment. This was enough time for Wilkes to stand as well. Frank was bloodied and unconscious on the ground. They had her surrounded.

Catherine gently raised her hands, "You don't want to do this boys," she whispered.

Wilkes smiled, "Yes we do." He took a step toward Catherine. She was breathing heavily with fear. Moody and Rissum were too involved to notice anything amiss.

"Avada Ked..." Wilkes began but Frank was quicker. Waking at the nick of time, he surveyed the scene and took the only available option. Wilkes fell to the ground dead.

Ivan was shocked with grief and spun from the Longbottoms and began to run. The chase was frightening and Catherine and Frank called hexes that bounced off the dark thin trees. Ivan could still hear his father's voice and hid behind a rock not wanting to leave him but too filled with fear to do anything else. He sobbed as he heard silence fill the void.

All wondered what had happened and Catherine and Frank ran back to help Moody. They found Rissum bound next to Mulciber. Moody had a large gash under his right eye that was bleeding profusely.

"Alastor," Catherine called in surprise, holding a torn piece from her dress to his face. She murmured incantations to stop the bleeding. Frank stood over Wilkes' body solemnly.

"You did what you could mate," Moody grunted affectionately, "Let's get these two back to the Ministry."

"He's just so young," Frank muttered as he shook his head. Wilkes was in his twenties yet in death looked much younger, fear was still etched on his features and it made Frank sick.

They gathered up the two bound Death Eaters to leave by portkey when Ivan entered the clearing. He was warped by grief and a young irrational bravery usually isolated to Gryffindors.

"Let them go," he ordered, tears in his eyes, wand drawn at Catherine, "I'll kill her, I swear."

Alastor Moody wasn't the best in the business for nothing. Although he avoided killing at all costs, there were times when lives were on the line and it left no other option. Brandishing his wand, he hurled the killing curse to the grief stricken young man who fell to the ground instantly.

"Come on," Moody urged quietly, "Let's go." Silently the group left the clearing with the two prisoners.

The two young men lay together on the floor of the dark woods. Their eyes open, one pair in fear, the other in grief.

*****

Hogwarts, 4th January 1982

Severus did not want to leave his quarters today. He shook on the bed in grief.

Ivan and he had been friends since that first day on the Hogwarts Express. It was enough that he had the guilt of innocent people on his hands. Those faces seemed to blend in and out, never cursing him, only weeping or begging. But this face was far more upsetting, it was laughing, smiling, trusting. He had betrayed his best friends, no more honor than the filthy family turncoat Sirius Black. He looked down at the ugly brand on his arm, what would you know about loyalty? What do promises mean from you?

Friends murdered by his hand, or might as well have been. He had told Dumbledore where to find them, he had even warned his family to not answer that gate that night. His family, who he didn't speak to, his family who shunned him for being born out of wedlock, his family who had fled to live among dark creatures and reveled in Dark Arts but had the hide to judge him to flee him. His family, who like Dumbledore, were obsessed with the end result and would do anything to get there, including sacrificing him.

*****

"The Dark Arts aren't fundamentally evil," his father blurted once in between drinks. His father flicked his wand in his hands as he reached for the bottle of Odgens. A young Severus waiting patiently to be excused for the evening.

"But, why are they forbidden?" he had asked nervously, never sure when his fathers answers would turn violent.

"They were developed with the intent of personal gain or with the intent to harm another person. Yet they are just as important, as powerful, as sacred as any other magic. You don't have to use them that way. Sometimes, helping yourself is helping others, sometimes, you have to be cruel to be kind, sometimes," he whispered and then threw back a double shot Severus hanging onto every word.

"Sometimes?" Severus prompted. The old man scowled and slammed the glass on the table.

"Sometimes, you have to fight fire with fire," Ureric Snape said angrily, the old man looked like he was about to hit Severus so the boy ducked his head.

The blow never came instead a weary voice, "Severus, go to bed."

*****

There had been no love lost between the two, but the man, or what was left of him had still been his father. He shook his head as if to clear it, trying to empty his mind of his father's notions of the greater good. It was always a means to an end. A means to an end. And what a sticky end Severus had found himself in.