Accidents of Circumstance

Chapter 13: Bloody Ballerina

After the Alternative Magic class, Regina and Dumbledore used the Floo network to arrive at the Ministry. They reviewed the pensieve in her presence. She was gripping the edge of the armrests in a white-knuckled grip, watching over again the three weeks she has spent in an Unplottable location. It wasn't quite true that all memories were transferred into the pensieve. She still could remember everything that had happened to her, the mockery in their faces when bones broke and skin split beneath blades. She remembered the look on Lucius's face when he had first raped her, triumphant and cruel, the look that had changed to one of fury when she had inexplicably said "Now I know why Draco is an only child. You really aren't very good." Stupid, stupid! Of course it would make him angry, of course. Narcissa, standing there in silver robes, arms crossed over her chest, had merely looked on amused. It seemed as if she hadn't realized anyone else could pull Lucius's strings, albeit with such disastrous results.

Long periods of time had been spent alone in the cell, wooden floors and stone walls, no window and only a single door. There were no markings to isolate its location.

The idea had been to torture her and then kill her, but Voldemort wanted to know the secret of her apparent resistance to the Unforgivables. Only Voldemort could cast Crucio and Imperius, though that one didn't work past a minute.

"The Sisters will get you," she had sneered at Voldemort in the presence of his followers.

Of course they had struck her with a cane. Of course she had been pushed to her knees.

"The sisters can't be swayed by Glamour. They know, they always know, they knit the path you settled on, they see the way the thread should be cut."

And of course they hit her in the back of the head. The silver fangs of the snake on Lucius' cane came to life under Voldemort's Parselmouth direction, biting off her ear, swallowing it and her earring before becoming a solid cane.

"Caryn degrais geran, herant whito ngo jen. Wenat leram oijin kilnar rewinscat cades mijlan. Londine. You will be hunted."

The whip crackled and cut, the knives flayed and stabbed. The Lestranges cackled and rubbed their hands with twisted glee. "I missed you, love, I wanted the rituals of blood," one of them said. Regina's eye was swollen shut, and they sounded the same.

"Stake her."

Spikes almost two inches in circumference were driven into her palms. Regina let herself scream then, for the right hand. She didn't stop for the left, just kept sliding from one note of pain into another one.

Whip crack, then snow. Blood from various wounds were spreading into the snow, staining it dark red, almost black.

"The Sisters will never get hold of me. Your boast is for nothing, you will fall on your knees and bow down to me," Voldemort had said in a serpentine hiss.

"Kiss my ass," Regina had responded.

The fire was hotter than she thought it would be, the pincers took off more skin than she thought they would. There was a boot across her neck as she was raped again, the Lestranges pulling on her hands to make her scream again in pain. It was all a game to them, nothing but a bloody little plaything that made the appropriate noises. A bloody little toy, something to pull out the hair of, to mark and destroy, to break into a thousand little pieces once they were done. There was something about porcelain, the faces that dolls made as they broke, as the porcelain shattered into slivers, something about how much shattered porcelain was beautiful to taste.

When they left her alone, Regina was left to painstakingly lift her hands from the spikes.

"Stupid, my hands don't work the magic..." she muttered, her hands more numb than anything else when she first began. But then she nearly bit her tongue in half as she lifted them, especially once over the top of the spike. The tops were much larger than the holes in her hands, and she felt them tear as she pulled her hands free. It may have been the harder route, but she didn't trust herself with those spikes. If she had used magic to take them out of the ground, she could have just as easily driven them into her skull or deeply into her throat.

She knew herself very well, after all, and she had a history of that kind of thing.

Regina constructed a false wall to shield herself from their prying eyes when they returned to the room. The Death Eaters had to feed her every once in a while, usually something rotten or vile, something bound to make them laugh. They found feeding times funny, though Regina never begged or pleaded properly. She never showed evidence of breaking down, never stopped throwing her own occasional insults. She was always amply rewarded for that, always repaid with violence. It never stopped her.

Regina placed her broken hands in her lap and curled in a corner of the room. She shut her eyes, praying for sleep. It wasn't necessarily just the pain that was horrible, or the rotten food that turned her stomach and made her vomit. Somehow she could take that, telling herself that the children were safe and sound in Hogwarts. She couldn't expect anything else from Death Eaters that had nonfunctional wands, especially not those known for their torturing skills. Though she would never admit it, she couldn't sleep for more than minutes at a time, and it was the lack of sleep that was wearing her down. When she did close her eyes, she smelled the blood and stink of the cell, felt the pain run along her nerves like wildfire. It made everything unbearably close and real, her mind giving her the garish images her eyes never seemed to comprehend properly. Her fitful snatches of sleep were painful memories under the guise of dreams, the same memories she had tried running from for so long.

Strange how physical pain only drew out the spiritual pain and amplified it a thousandfold.

The footfalls across bare stone woke her from the doze, and she had to smile at the swearing that greeted the apparently empty room. The Sisters might not be swayed by glamour, but mere mortals certainly were. They kicked at the bloody spikes in the floor, the walls. She had given her glamour weight, and they kicked at a false wall not three inches from her bloody feet. It was a sight that cheered her immensely. Lucius Malfoy in a homicidal rage was rare to see.

Narcissa strode into the room, silver from head to toe. She looked at Lucius with a cold glare, and it silenced him. "Write to Draco. He looks up to you. Perhaps you can get him to stop this silly tantrum of his."

Tantrum? Oh, yes. Because the tool that was formed so carefully wasn't responding properly, didn't turn at the proper command. The sword edge was dull.

Narcissa's eyes narrowed at the false wall once Lucius left. "I'm not quite so easy to fool as my husband is, Miss Vial."

Regina had to smile. She knew the type, but hadn't thought Narcissa fit the role of Ice Queen as perfectly as she first thought. It was too easy to revert to stereotype. It was a shorthand, one she had seen many times before in the mothers of the children that entered her schools. No child of mine could possibly have magic, I won't allow it. Oh no, not some no-name school in the middle of nowhere, I have plans for my child. You're being ridiculous, you're insane. You're making things up, you're jealous of what I have. I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I refuse to play a part in it. You can't take my child from me, I have plans. I won't let you have him, I'll see you dead first!

Oh yes. Same old shit, different day.

"You may as well drop this facade. I can see you huddled in the corner."

Lovely. A woman with the ability to see through glamour. She had to be Voldemort's fairy connection, though the veela weren't known for it.

Regina dropped the wall. It had been an effort to give the false wall life anyway.

"You've corrupted my son."

"Perhaps he's always been waiting for this chance, and I'm just the excuse."

Narcissa seemed to ponder that for a moment. "You've no idea what you've done to my plans," she said in a low tone.

Narcissa was in charge of everything? Nothing surprised Regina anymore.

"I suppose you really don't know then."

"I just protect my students, Narcissa. No more, no less."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed. "No teacher does it at the cost of their life."

"I'm too valuable to kill."

"For the moment."

"Forever. You can't do it."

"Even tools of the Fates can be killed."

"Not by mortal hands."

"You are a stupid woman if you believe that."

"Think what you like."

"They will come back and kill you," Narcissa said, silver eyes narrowed to slits. Her hand rested lightly on the door handle, ready to leave. "You won't be able to save everyone, despite what you know. It won't be enough. You don't know enough. All of Godric's spawn will be eliminated, I'll make sure of it."

"Of course you will. You'll want the job done right."

Narcissa hadn't been expecting that response. She had been expecting some kind of brave declaration, some last ditch spell to stop her or wound her. Narcissa turned back to face Regina, still curled into a little ball in the corner of the room. "You aren't afraid of me."

"I've seen too many like you to be afraid of you."

"You've never seen the likes of me."

"I'm not intimidated by cold perfection. Perhaps that's the difference."

Narcissa's lips curled. "Is that supposed to wound me?"

"You figure it out," Regina snapped, annoyed. "You're the one that plays games with human chess pieces. You map out how this ends."

"They'll finish you tonight."

"You won't stop the Fates."

Narcissa paused. "I won't have to. This is bigger than that."

"He won't survive your plans."

"Oh? And what do you know of it?"

"You're the one advising him about the glamour, aren't you? You know he can't survive harming Harry."

Narcissa gave Regina the barest of smiles. "He's not meant to. Harry is too important to let die so simply."

Regina pondered that as Narcissa swept out the room, regal as ever. Human chess pieces, indeed. The men around her had apparently forgotten that the Queen is the most dangerous piece on the board.

Ten masked Death Eaters entered the stone cell and dragged her from it. They led her outside, in a field under the full moon. There was a gibbet, and the rest of the Death Eaters present were ready to string her up by her neck. They didn't bother to tie her hands together, since they had been rendered just about useless by the Lestranges' little games.

Voldemort sat amongst his followers. Narcissa had moved to his left side, next to Lucius, looking pleased with herself. Lucius looked at Regina in disdain, thinking he had bested her. They all did.

The rope was placed around her neck, and she let it happen. Her eyes went from one white mask to another, to the line of trees around the clearing. It looked strange and familiar at once, and Regina realized where she was at once. She thought of laughing, but then the knot tightened around her neck. It pressed against her spine, and she was forced to stand over the trapdoor in the floor beneath the crossbeams.

"In the Middle Ages, they hung their witches, or burned them," one of the Death Eaters said, hand on the lever to the trapdoor. "It's only fitting we do the same."

"Oh yes, especially since crucifixion didn't work so well," Regina said, her tone arch. She had a view of the entire clearing, and her eyes darted left and right. The forest seemed to close in around them, and the light of the full moon no longer seemed as bright as it once did.

"The moon comes for her daughter!" Narcissa hissed suddenly, eyes wide in fear.

The Fates take care of their own, Regina thought, just as the lever was thrown.

The clearing burst into flames, and Voldemort let out an unearthly howl as his robes caught fire as well.

Pandemonium. The fire walled the Death Eaters in, kept the comforting anonymity far away. There was just the clearing, the lake beside it, the open night sky and the wall of fire all around them, closing in.

"My Lord! My Lord!"

Death Eaters tried to hem in the flames, tried to douse the fire that threatened their Dark Lord with harm. Someone said that Regina had to be cut down, that as long as she gasped for air, face purple, she had to be the one controlling the fire. It was only getting wilder, after all, only burning hotter and more uncontrolled.

She was cut down, and collapsed through the trapdoor and onto the ground. Stones and dirt pushed into her open wounds, grating the raw flesh. Hands grabbed the rope, tugging at it, pulling her along the ground. The dirt tasted bad. Hands lifted her up, then heaved her unceremoniously into the water of the lake, casting a freezing charm on it. The ice closed over her head, and Regina was sinking, the rope still tight around her throat.

Time to go, she thought, imagining the Fates in her mind. Maiden, Mother and Crone, Three-in-One...

And she felt the waters around her give slightly as she pulled the rope from her neck, an interdimensional rift beginning to form beside her in the water.

But that wasn't quite right, the feeling as she fell sideways through the rift wasn't the same as it had always been.

Narcissa will be so angry... I've destroyed her plan again...

And then she had disappeared, only to appear in the middle of a Potions lecture.

***

The ministers were silent for a very long time. Then the whispers began, hooded by tired and wrinkled hands, large knuckled hands, scarred hands. Regina looked at Dumbledore, feeling the breath whoosh out of her lungs. She could feel the blow before it came, knew he was looking at her and could feel it just as well. They didn't want to believe her, they didn't want to start a panic if they recognized what she had been through.

"We thank you for your time, Albus, Miss Vial. We will have to take this into account, of course, get back to you, see how this affects policy...." Fudge began.

"It's quite clear how this affects policy," Regina interrupted, voice cold and even. "You need to start routing out the Death Eaters, putting them on trial for this." She could feel her chest, the pain in it expanding until it reached her throat. Please don't cry here, not here, not in front of them. Not even the Death Eaters had made me cry...

Dumbledore was patting her hand, looking as though he was about to say something. One of the Ministers cut him off, looking down his nose at Regina.

"Miss Vial, we have been quite patient when stories of your unorthodoxy reached us."

Regina couldn't believe her ears.

"Quite frankly, to have you come into our offices and try to demand some strange policy is absurd. You are a single individual, and a highly offensive one at that."

Regina stared the unnamed Minister in the eye, thinking she almost recognized it behind a mask. She kept her mouth shut as he railed against her blatant disregard for time honored rules and regulations regarding dress, respect and behavior when dealing with the Ministry of Magic. Her uncouth American ways would not be tolerated.

"I see," she said, chest still tight and painful. She cut off the Minister in mid-diatribe, throwing him off. "So this is a personal attack because you'd rather sit here and do nothing about your fellow Death Eaters. I see what this is. You don't give a damn about the people. You would rather they attack the children and kill Muggles."

"Now, Miss Vial," Fudge began, shooting an acid look at the other Minister. "What we are trying to do is be reasonable, and it's just very difficult-"

"Difficult, my ass!" Regina shouted. Dumbledore tried to silence her, but she shook him off. She would not cry, she would not. She would rather yell, she would rather storm and rage and dissipate the pain in her chest that way. "You'd rather fucking ignore me, I'm just some stupid American. I'm not from around here, so it's easy to brush off someone you don't have worry about voting for you. God forbid you piss off a fucking constituent. But I'm just some shitty foreigner and you don't give a flying fuck about them, of course, never mind if she sacrificed herself for your children so the Death Eaters wouldn't get them. You'd rather shove all this under the rug so you don't have to do a fucking thing about it and pretend it's all goddamn hunky dory and that you've got your shit together.

"Face it, you don't. But no, you don't fucking care about that, you care about the funding for your fucking lunch and your goddamn parking spaces and oh let's not forget your robes, all seventeen sets of them-" Fudge was looking a little embarrassed and purple in the face at that statement. "-and of course your mistress, can't forget about her, can't let her leave the goddamn apartment you bought for her in case she meets your wife on the street, so you need to pay her off monthly, and all that would be taken out of the budget if you had to build a fucking army to get rid of the threat. Oh no, can't do that, can't have that, can't be safe if it means you're inconvenienced, you hypocritical prick!"

Silence.

"Oh dear," Dumbledore said softly, the sound muffled by his beard. He knew they would never listen to her now.

"We told you, Dumbledore," Fudge said in a shaky voice. "No more crazy teachers."

"The papers printed that article about her," another Minister said. "I didn't believe she was unstable, but she must be... She must have imagined that whole thing."

Regina felt the firestorm in her fingertips, the magic crackling and ready to be let loose and end this farce. Dumbledore placed a hand on her forearm. "Don't."

The Ministers were suddenly silent, seeing the sparks crackling menacingly on her fingertips. They knew she was right just as they also knew they couldn't do anything without raising a panic. And they also suddenly realized that she wasn't insane as they would have liked to believe, but dangerous all the same.

A spark fell to the floor, and the wood turned immediately to ash. "Just one," she whispered, voice wavering. They thought she was trying to kill them, and panic began to spread amongst them.

"Very admirable," Dumbledore said, and he let go of her arm. "I'll take care of this."

"Nothing is going to fucking get done."

"We'll see."

Regina looked him the eye. "Don't bullshit me, Albus. They're fucking cowards and they're not going to do a goddamn thing."

"There's always hope."

"Not here."

And then she left.

Regina didn't wait for the sounds to buffet her ears. She didn't want to hear the excuses or the placating words that Albus was going to say. She didn't want her outburst merely chalked up to stress on seeing her torture.

She Apparated to the Forbidden Forest.

***

Snape was startled by the sudden flare in the fireplace, and looked up from the papers he was grading in his office. A note tumbled out, brief for Dumbledore.

Find Regina and take care of her.

He only had another fifteen minutes before he needed to be in the Potions classroom. It was for fourth year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students, not that disastrous a combination. Snape was never the kind to leave a class unattended, but apparently Dumbledore thought this was more important. What could have happened?

Snape glanced at the schedule with all the faculty names on it. The only other professor with a free period in fifteen minutes was Sinistra. He sighed. At least it hadn't been Trelawney...

Once the arrangements were made, Snape knew how to find Regina.

Here. You'll always find me with this, Regina had said sixteen years ago. He had been worried about losing her in the middle of Times Square. It was a plain silver ring, with a line etched into the top. Snape had laughed, until she insisted he put it on. The ring was warm on his finger, and the etched line slowly began to move, the wider edge of it towards Snape. It's an arrow. So you'll be able to find me in the crowd. I promise.

Complicated magic. He had been impressed at the elegance of the charm's appearance. He had kissed her then, and they had wandered off together.

Snape found the ring in the bottom a box he kept loose items in. He had wanted to forget about it, but every once in a while throughout the years, he had put it on and watched the etched line turn until it was pointing in the direction of New York. He had put it on when Regina had been missing, but the line had been stubbornly fixed.

Now it moved. Snape quickly left Hogwarts grounds, following the direction of the etched arrow. He found himself moving toward the Forbidden Forest, and wasn't sure he liked that idea in the slightest. It was still mostly uncharted, and there were too many strange tales that circulated regarding the denizens half-seen in its shadows.

Somehow it seemed fitting that Regina would be there.

***

The clearing was empty. She hadn't really expected to see scorch marks across the trees or on the ground, but some part of her did. Some part of her thought that there should be some way to mark the boundary between the pocket of alternate reality Narcissa had built and the clearing within the Forbidden Forest. There was nothing, not even the faintest of shimmers in the air. Then again, technically it hadn't happened yet.

She felt the pull of magic along her spine. Someone was actively looking for her, and she could only really think of one person. Regardless of all her personal wards and the magicks placed on her skin, there were six enchanted rings that could pierce through all of them. Five were held by her closest friends. Severus held the sixth.

Regina collapsed, knees buckling as she remembered. He was coming for her finally, he was looking for her in the forest. Maybe he would lead her out, maybe he would leave her there. It really didn't matter anymore.

She couldn't give in to the pain in her chest, that god awful ache growing by the moment, ebbing and flowing as she breathed. If she gave in and began to cry, she knew she wouldn't be able to stop in time. As bad as the scene at the Ministry had been, Severus seeing her cry would be even worse. The last time he had caught her at a vulnerable time, she had allowed him to kiss her, and she had even responded before catching herself. She couldn't let herself fall into the trap her memories provided; she had fallen for it once too often already.

It was a long time before Severus Snape found her. She had almost gotten control of herself by then, fistfuls of dirt in her hands. The feel of it was too familiar.

"Gina."

"Sev. Did Albus send you?"

"He asked me to take care of you."

The Reven never had it easy. "I'll be fine in a minute."

"Let me help you, Gina," Snape said, his voice soft. It was a tone he only used with her.

"I'll be fine in a minute," she insisted. The dirt was being squeezed tightly between her fingers as she willed herself not to fall apart.

Snape gently grasped her upper arm. "Let's go back to the castle. It's safer there."

No it's not! Regina thought wildly. You're there, the reminders are there, everything went wrong because of places like this...

He led her back to the path he had taken to find her. It was a tangled route, not one easily taken. The vines and small burrowing creatures shrank back from the spells Snape cast when necessary, but he made sure to keep up a running commentary. Regina looked to be in shock to him; he had seen it often enough in fledgling Death Eaters after their first kill. He didn't want to ask what had happened in the Ministry meeting to make her react in such a way, feeling that it must have something to do with her missing time.

Snape kept up a running commentary on the Forbidden Forest, whatever plants he remembered from Herbology, the creatures he could remember that lived there. He didn't talk about the strange tales that were about the center of the forest; no one who ever ventured there had returned to confirm them. He didn't bother to ask her any questions or involve her in the one-sided conversation. She needed something to distract her. He remembered how tough she had liked to be in the past, how tough she had needed to be when dealing with him earlier. She needed her shields, and he was willing to give it to her now.

Snape steered her through a side entrance to the castle and led her to her room. Snape sat her down on her bed and began to untie the boots she was wearing, and pulled them off. She numbly stared at him, at the hair hanging limply on his shoulders. "You should wash that," she said suddenly, her first words in twenty minutes.

"Potion fumes just muck it up again," Snape said shortly, pushing on her shoulders. "You didn't have a jacket."

"No, we went by floo."

Snape watched as Regina curled onto her side over the coverlet. He sat down next to her, and put a hand on her arm. "I still remember that poem you read to me."

She was so still, her eyes on his face. For a moment, Snape almost regretted the words, but then with a breath, began to recite.

When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,

And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,

Thy youth's proud livery so gazed on now,

Will be a tatter'd weed of small worth held:

Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies,

Where all the treasure of thy lusty days;

To say, within thine own deep sunken eyes,

Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.

How much more praise deserv'd thy beauty's use,

If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine

Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,'

Proving his beauty by succession thine!

This were to be new made when thou art old,

And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.

"Shakespeare always sounded best with an English accent," Regina said softly, eyes closing in weariness. Snape could see the tears begin to form under her lashes.

Snape touched her cheek gently, stroking it. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was for lying to her sixteen years before, that he thought it had been in her best interest, that he had wanted to keep her safe. She would have plenty to say to that, he was sure. "Do you need anything?" he asked instead.

"A new soul," she whispered.

Snape brushed her hair behind her ear, wishing she had said something sarcastic or cruel. "Do you need me to stay with you?"

He was giving her all the outs she needed, but for once she was too tired to take them. "If you want, you can stay."

He resisted the urge to bite his lip. Dammit, the last thing he needed was to be unsure around her. They had a strained enough relationship. "What is it you always say? It's not about wanting, but have to?"

Regina gave a bitter laugh. "Of course. Throw my own words back at me."

This wasn't going well. "I still have classes to teach."

"Then go. I didn't say you had to stay."

"But if I want to?"

Regina opened her eyes and blinked back the sheen of tears. "Oh."

"We'll have to talk someday, you know this."

"What's left to say?"

"Too much."

She closed her eyes again, pressing her face further into the coverlet and away from his fingertips. "It doesn't matter anymore. You made it very clear."

Snape leaned down and pressed his lips to her temple. "Maybe one day you won't hate me for what I've done."

Regina waited until he left before giving in to her tears.

***

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