Nobody Knew

Nobody Knew

Part Seven

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Severus Apparated in the forest surrounding the Sailstone Castle. Any Muggle would see only the grey, moss-ridden ruins, but he saw the place for what it was: the bastion of dark magic and a stronghold of evil so powerful that it made more sensitive people physically ill.

He didn't even try to Apparate through the shields raised around the Castle by the Death Eaters most experienced in developing and casting protection spells. He was one of them, therefore he knew he wouldn't manage to break into the Castle unseen. Only the Dark Mark allowed a person Apparate within the walls of the Castle. Caia's body didn't have the Dark Mark.

He waited, attention focused on the castle looming over the forest. Incredible how much the place reminded him of Hogwarts sometimes and yet, it couldn't be more different. Sailstone was huge and dominated the area, the air around it thick with power and magic. But where Sailstone radiated danger, Hogwarts was surrounded by peace. Sailstone had a stench of evil around it; Hogwarts had a sense of acceptance.

Nothing was happening, the day turned into an evening. Severus waited. Patience was one of his traits that could be admired. Usually he had it in a short supply, but when something was truly important to him, he could outwait the Great Passing.

The waiting paid off. Snape, keeping an eye on the shields he knew so well, saw a slight shimmering of the air around the castle. Somebody was in the process of Apparating out. He pointed his wand at the shield and said, "Apparati Errandum."

Mark Johnson looked around, confused. Instead of the centre of the Muggle London, he saw the dark line of trees in front of him.What the hell? He heard somebody clear a throat and turned to the side. And stared agape for a moment.

In front of him stood a little girl, no more than eleven. Tangled black hair framed a deathly pale face with coal-black eyes and a prominent nose.

Finally, he reacted, raising his wand, but the girl was faster.

"Immobilarius!"

Mark couldn't move. "Who the hell are you?" he choked out, still in shock that a child could take down an experienced, twenty seven year old wizard like him.

"Somebody who needs your help," the girl answered, her high-pitched childish voice strangely dispassionate.

"Help? What help?"

"You will Apparate with me into the Castle."

Mark couldn't help looking at her as if she was mad. For all he knew she must have been, no sane person would want to go to Sailstone except Death Eaters. The girl didn't look like a Death Eater, although those empty eyes...

"It will take more to force me to do that than Immobilarius," he laughed trying to look confident.

"Oh?"

The girl came closer, so close that she was almost touching him with her body. The bizarre thing was that he couldn't feel any warmth. His wand was taken out of his hand and dropped to the ground. She measured him with her eyes and if he was able to squirm, he would have. He couldn't quite recognise the expression on her face, but it was closest to apprehension or disgust. She took his hand in hers and seemed to play with his fingers for a moment. Then he heard a low crack and a surge of agonising heat went through his hand.

"You little bitch!" he cried, gasping with pain, not being even able to hold his own hand for comfort. "You broke my finger!"

"Really? How clumsy of me. I would suggest you do what I say and save yourself more displays of my ill manners, and me, time."

"You won't get away with--"

Another low crack and another surge of pain.

"You finished?"

He didn't answer, too busy coping with the pain. He hadn't realised that a simple broken finger could hurt so badly.

"All you need to do is Apparate with me."

Why not, Mark thought. Once inside she will be killed anyway, stupid kid. He would watch her die in pain; he would break all her fingers and listen to her screams. He would watch Macnair working his favourite techniques on her; yes he would help her Apparate.

"All right, I will. Release me."

He felt he could move again, and he tried to flinch his finger, which caused waves of pain again. The girl had her wand pointed at him so he subsided the urge to put his hands around her neck and slowly squeeze life out of her.

"Give me my wand." His demand earned him a mocking raise of an eyebrow from the girl, the first display of an actual emotion from her.

"You don't need a wand for it. I will do the job, you are just to get us through the wards."

Being reduced to a tool was rather humiliating, but Mark didn't have much choice. The tip of girl's wand looked no less dangerous than those of adult wizards. The girl clasped his uninjured hand and murmured a sequence of spells. They Disapparated.

Severus looked around. His spells transferred them into a rarely used corridor of the castle. He waved a wand at his companion. "Stupefy."

Mark Johnson dropped to the floor. With a help of an obscure, but surprisingly simple little spell Snape ensured that he wouldn't be able to wake for two days and rushed off. He had an old friend to find. The gathering on the previous night was rather enlightening in some aspects. He knew the names of all six Death Eaters who conducted the raid. Macnair was the leader. The others were young and eager novices, but all talented wizards. They must have been talented to manage to break through the defences. Macnair was the worst though; he was the focus of Severus' anger. The novices wouldn't think of torturing the children in order to break the mother. Or at least they wouldn't think of killing the children which completely pointless.

Macnair was a rare specimen of inhuman human. And, ironically, it was his 'uniqueness' that helped Snape to formulate his rescue plan.

Macnair knew many secrets of the castle, more than Severus, especially since Voldemort's rise. He was in charge of the prison area so he was the person Severus would have to use if he was to get Theresa free.

Fifty years old Walden Macnair was one of the highest-ranking Death Eaters, right at the top with Lucius Malfoy and Richard Nott. He was not, however, as smart as Malfoy or as coldly confident as Nott. He didn't participate in planning. Macnair was the executive, the chief butcher among Voldemort's followers. He was one of the most twisted, most cruel Death Eaters, second only to Nott, although in Snape's opinion the two of them should share the title. He enjoyed killing more than inflicting pain, as was the case with Nott, enjoyed having the power to end the life. Severus could understand that... there was a time when he used to enjoy that power too.

But Severus hated Macnair from the first moment he had met him and the reason was Macnair's basic lack of respect for the dead. It was a sin no Necromancer would ever let pass unnoticed.

All the same, for all his cruelty, for all his knowledge in the Dark Arts, Macnair was a paranoid and superstitious coward. He used to perform all kinds of rituals that were supposed to protect him from physical harm, from losing his power, from being discovered by the enemies, from jealousy of other Death Eaters, from his victims' revenge. The latter was the base of Severus' plan. To act upon Macnair's greatest fear.

Snape didn't know the dark corridors of Sailstone as well as those of Hogwarts, but well enough not to run into Voldemort or Pettigrew, who was virtually glued to the Dark Lord. He needed only Macnair and this night Macnair was supposed to 'examine' the Muggle material for the Dark Revel.

The torture room it was.

Severus pushed the heavy wooden door open; there was no locking ward on it. All Death Eaters were welcomed there for fun.

Four people raised their heads. They were standing over two other persons. One of them was a young girl, not much more than a child. Young flesh appealed to Macnair. The second was a man of, perhaps, twenty-five, very handsome. A present for Nott probably, he had a taste in men. Severus knew that from personal experience. Both had small cuts on their arms and torsos. Terrified expressions on their faces, however, were telling a much more detailed story than the cuts. And Severus knew that anything they would go through this night was nothing compared to the Dark Revel.

As Macnair and Lawrence Sales froze, trying to place the familiar face they had in front of them, the other two Death Eaters simply stared at him in utter amazement. Their surprise was even greater than Mark Johnson's, but the question remained the same.

"Who the hell are you?"

Severus made a superhuman effort to keep his face and voice impassive as he gestured to Macnair and Sales with Caia's wand. "They know."

These words seemed to awaken Macnair. "Get her!" he shouted.

Sales still stared, unable to move, but the other two reached for their wands. It didn't do them much good for Severus raised both hands armed with wands and stupefied them simultaneously.

Macnair and Sales couldn't believe their eyes. Here she stood, the girl they saw writhing on the floor under Cruciatus, the girl Sales hit with Avada Kedavra, the girl they left dead in the house of that Winters woman. She should be dead! Macnair felt anger overcoming his amazement and fear. Stupid Sales, he can't even cast Avada Kedavra properly! And to think he was holding so much promise! Never leave the killing to the others, even if they are supposed to be initiated!

A flash of green light emanated from his wand when he shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"

The green light hit the little black-haired girl.

Nothing happened. She stood there like a statue, showing no signs of dying.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Nothing. Slow, cold smile crept to the girl's lips and Macnair went even paler than Sales. What was she that the Killing Curse didn't affect her?

"Sales did his job well, Walden." The... creature... said in a low, empty voice. "I just refused to go."

"What do you want?" Macnair asked, his lips almost numb with fear upon hearing his first name. Such familiarity with a... creature... was not something he had ever wished for.

"Revenge."

"I didn't kill you!" Macnair cried fervently, gesturing to Sales. "He did!"

Sales found his voice. "He made me! I didn't want to, remember? I hesitated! It was his fault."

"It was," the girl confirmed, giving Sales a cursory glance, focused on the older man. "This is why I won't kill you. Stupefy." And Sales was out cold. Black eyes bored into Macnair again. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you and drag you to hell, for all the suffering you caused me and my family."

"I... I..." Macnair managed in ragged breaths, "I... have your mother! I can save her!"

This seemed to catch her attention. "Can you?"

"Yes, yes! I know where she is, I know how to get around the wards! If you let me live, I will free her!"

Snape let himself a small, victorious smile. Macnair was a fool and a coward, like most of those who enjoyed dominating the weaker. Surprising he managed to go so far in the ranks.

"All right. Free her. Now."

"Now? But if somebody..."

"Now." Severus raised his wand menacingly.

Macnair cleared his throat, but didn't say a word. He shot a fearful look at his companions lying on the floor, then at the prisoners. They were watching the scene and barely dared to breathe. "What about them?"

Severus looked at the prisoners. The girl was just few years older than Caia. No. Don't think of it. Theresa is important, not some Muggles... He looked at them again.

"You will Apparate them out, together with my mother."

Macnair didn't argue, although his face showed clearly he didn't like the idea at all. He went to the door. Severus followed him.

The prison area was in the dungeons. How appropriate. They didn't meet anybody, to Snape's relief. There was no need for spending his precious energy for more stupefying... And stupefying was a spell close to the top of his present capabilities. Transferring into another body ruled the more potent curses out... What a pity. He would simply put somebody under Imperius if he could. But now just maintaining the charade was exhausting enough. He would be paying for it for months.

Macnair unlocked each door they passed through with a spell. Their multitude surprised Snape. Voldemort has became much more paranoid than fourteen years ago. It would take Severus long hours to break through the protections on his own, even though the wards were one of his areas of expertise.

When they stopped for the last time, Severus' apprehension reached the state that he was barely able to breathe. The uncertainty of what he would see, and of what Theresa would see, was getting to him. He squeezed tighter the wand he held pointed at Macnair's back. The Death Eater went in and Severus too stepped inside.

Slow reaction, Snape registered, worried. Theresa's blue eyes turned to him and her face went ashen.

"Caia...?" The hope in her voice made Snape's stomach churn. He had to make her realise the facts as soon as possible...no, he had to make her realise now.

"Yes, Mum, it's me. I told you I would get you out of here, I told you to fight..." He raised his wand so that she could see it, his own wand, not Caia's. Her face turned a sickening greenish colour as the truth sank in and she looked as if she was going to vomit.

"Come," he said, "let's go."

She didn't move. Severus' fear grew. She had to snap out of it! Her life depended on it! Both their lives depended on it!

"There are two Muggles who need to leave before the Dark Revel."

It worked. Theresa gulped and got up. Her hand shook when she held it out to him. Feeling slightly incredulous, he looked at up at her, questioningly. She must have thought the same for the ghost of smile appeared on her face.

"The wand," she said in a half-voice. Severus handed her Caia's wand and turned to Macnair, who was still looking at him in fear, backing away as far as the room let him.

"Back to the Muggles," he ordered.

They began to make a hasty way back to the torture room. Severus' walk was getting heavier with every step. Theresa was avoiding looking at him. She was right beside him, but her gaze was on Macnair.

The Muggles were petrified to see Macnair back. The young girl closed her eyes tightly.

"Kill us... kill us but don't do that again..."

It was then that Theresa straightened to her full height -- not much of it, but better than her former shrunken form, Snape thought -- and made an effort to look confident and reassuring.

"He won't do it again. We will take you out of here," she assured them softly, approaching the girl. One easy little charm later the girl and the young man were free from their bonds. "Everything will be all right. Se... send us back, Caia?"

Snape nodded. "Theresa, take Macnair's hand. You two form the chain with them."

When the four of them were standing holding each other's hands, Snape clasped Macnair's hand. Now, this little piece of Apparition was going to be somewhat of a difficulty, especially in his present form, but it wasn't impossible. It wasn't far away and, hopefully, they wouldn't all get splinched.

When Severus saw the forest outside the Sailstone, he knew he Disapparated them successfully. Macnair was looking at him not only with fear now, but also with awe. Good he had no idea how drained Snape was at the moment. He wouldn't be able to Obliviate Macnair on his own. Neither would Theresa, without her own wand. Perhaps together... if she would trust him. He looked at her questioningly, then at Macnair. She understood. They didn't need words to communicate anymore, particularly in such an obvious situation. She nodded.

"Stupefy," Severus said and then they both pointed their wands on Macnair's unconscious form. "Obliviate."

They looked into each other's eyes for a long time, before a stammering, scared voice brought them back to reality.

"Whe... where are we?"

They looked at the Muggles.

"Let's Apparate them to the Muggle London and Obliviate them," proposed Theresa quietly, deflated now.

"Yes," Severus agreed, feeling he was losing his strength rapidly. "And then let's... go home."

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