The Black Sheep

chapter four

An Unexpected Visitor

Bo made her excuses at Malfoy Manor as soon as she could the next morning and retreated once again to the peace and quiet of 33 Noxbury Hill. Sinking into the warm water of her own bathtub, she felt she could not have escaped Bella's teary-eyed accounts of her Ceremony of Allegiance, nor Cissy's odd, grimacing smiles, too soon. Her sigh of exhaustion changed suddenly to a howl of pain when, absentmindedly, she allowed the bathwater to touch the fresh burn of the Dark Mark on her left arm. She could not even bring herself to look at it. And again, sitting in the bath with her left arm held out at an odd angle, Snape's face drifted into her mind.

Try as she might, she could not even guess at his thoughts as they had stood facing each other, first Voldemort, and then Bella between them. His expression had been impossible to read. He had not seemed surprised to see her, but if he had been with Voldemort when Bella announced her, Snape would have already known she was there. Why had he not even looked at her during the Ceremony? His actions left her with even more questions than when she'd started.

These questions chased themselves back and forth in Bo's mind as she paced her living room floor. She kept coming back to the two objects she had placed on the long wooden table; the Confidentiality Quill, and the scroll of parchment Voldemort had given her. Looking at either produced a sickening lurch in the pit of her stomach. How was she to proceed? Another glance at the quill, and Bo was struck by a sudden flash of anger as she thought of her sister and the sorry group of fools she called her friends. Could Nymphadora, could any of them, even begin to fathom the enormity of what they had asked her to do? Bo was no stranger to the Dark Arts. She had thought she understood, believed she was well enough prepared, until she had looked into those blazing red eyes for the first time.

She thought back over the events of the night before, and it did not take her long to decide that there was nothing she wished to share with the Order of the Phoenix. So she eyed the scroll apprehensively, the sick feeling in her stomach growing steadily stronger as she walked toward the table. Knowing that she was being ridiculous, that no mere piece of paper could harm her, still she felt her heart beat faster as she reached out her right hand to take it. And she promptly jumped straight into the air in surprise when the front doorbell rang suddenly. She took a moment to regain her composure, chiding herself for allowing her nerves to get the best of her. Desperately hoping that her face was not as red as it felt, she went to the front door and pulled it open. Standing before her on the step was a tall figure in a hooded cloak. For a moment, neither Bo nor the stranger said anything and just as she found her own voice, another very familiar one spoke her name.

"Boadicea," said Severus Snape, "may I enter?"

Bo stood in silence, gaping at the face hidden in the dark hood. When she finally managed to break out of her reverie, she stood away from the door, and he quickly pushed passed her into the hall as she closed the door behind him.

He did not look at her as he removed his cloak, placed it on the staircase banister, and walked straight into her living room without a word. She followed him uncertainly and found him drawing the curtains over the tall windows. When he had finished, he turned on his heel, drew his wand and walked over to the fire, which extinguished immediately as though dowsed by an invisible bucket of water. He replaced his wand and turned back around to face Bo. His brow was furrowed in a horrible glower, and when he spoke, his voice was low and dangerous.

"What, in the name of all creation, did you think you were doing by joining the Death Eaters?"

She blinked and stared dumbly for a moment, her brain still attempting to wrap itself around this surprising turn of events. Once she had registered the accusatory tone in his voice and the condescension in his scowl, she recovered quite quickly.

"I thought you, of all people, would be pleased. Am I not only following your example?"

His scowl deepened and he took a step closer to her.

"If you want to treat this as a game, Boadicea, it is a game you are sure to lose, as you are ill-equipped to play and you are thoroughly unfamiliar with the rules."

"Ill-equipped, am I?" Bo felt another hot flash of anger, but Snape waved away her question.

"Have I taught you nothing? In our five years together at Hogwarts, did I not give you all the tools and knowledge that you would need to avoid such a situation like the one for which you have so blithely volunteered yourself? Did you not hear me clearly all the many times I told you that action where none is needed is the habit of fools? Or were you not listening when I explained that neutrality is the bastion of the wisest of our kind?"

"Perhaps I only realized the utter hypocrisy of it all," Bo said smugly.

"You have no idea what you are talking about," hissed Snape, even more dangerously.

"Why don't you enlighten me, then?"

"The fact that you would ask such a stupid question only further proves your ignorance."

"Ill-equipped and ignorant? My, it's a wonder I can dress myself in the morning, isn't it? I know it's awfully dark and isolated down in the dungeons where Dumbledore kept you all of those years, so in case you hadn't noticed the passage of time whilst you were huddled in your little office, it has been over a decade since I graduated from Hogwarts. My surroundings may not look it, but I have done quite well for myself, which you would have known had you ever bothered to answer any of my letters. I've won first place in the National Dueling Championship the last three years in a row, so you'll forgive me if I believe I'm quite capable of taking care of myself, Severus," she added, with an unbecoming sneer. Snape was slowly advancing on her, and though his expression was fierce, she glared back at him with her chin lifted obstinately.

"You think," he spat, as though each word tasted bitter, "that winning a few gold trophies will prepare you for what it means to be a Death Eater?" He was barely a foot from her now, staring down at her with features twisted in anger. "Did you feel prepared when the Dark Lord looked into your eyes last night? How did it feel?" He suddenly grabbed her arms so tightly that she gasped. "How did it feel when he bore into your thoughts? Was it easy for you? Did any of your dueling experiences measure up to what you felt when he invaded your mind?" She was looking directly into his eyes, and as he spoke, she could feel the familiar pressure of thoughts that were not hers leaning against her own mind. She briefly struggled against his grip on her arms, but he held on to them firmly. She tried to shut her eyes but found that she could not, and was forced to stare back at him, knowing by the furious pace of her heartbeat that she had no hope of hiding anything from him. Even as this thought occurred to her, he turned to look at the long wooden table and the quill and parchment sitting by themselves in the middle of it. He abruptly released her arms and when he looked back over at her, his expression had changed from one of fury to one of disdain.

"I expected better of she who I considered to be the best of my students."

This pronouncement somehow left Bo feeling thoroughly ashamed of herself, which infuriated her so much that she could think of no reply. Snape walked over to the table and picked up the Confidentiality Quill. He examined it silently for a moment and then looked over at Bo again, his brow still furrowed and his voice still quite angry, though it was softer and had lost its dangerous edge.

"Why did you not simply come to me immediately?"

"You had just killed Albus Dumbledore," Bo said, with a little more venom than she had intended. "And that is something I would never have thought the man I had respected more than any other would do." She glared at him, and muttered softly, "So it appears we do not know each other as well as we once thought we did."

They were both silent for a long time after Bo had finished speaking. Snape rolled the quill between his thumbs and forefingers, staring at it as if he expected it to squeak in protest. She remained silent as well. As she watched him, her anger slowly subsided into an intense curiosity.

"Why did you kill Dumbledore?" she asked, finally. He did not answer right away, and when he did, he spoke to the floor.

"I had little choice. No doubt your aunts have told you--many things--about me."

"They haven't," said Bo quickly, eager for some answers to the questions that had plagued her for so long. "I have heard nothing about it, only that it happened. I could not understand; you always spoke of the headmaster with such respect. I would never have thought...I knew you often disagreed with him, but...I couldn't--" Bo shook her head, unable to explain. "You told me once that you left the Dark Lord's service of your own free will, that it was a choice you made. So was that a lie? Have you only been biding your time, waiting for the Dark Lord to return?" Snape continued to stare at the floor and did not answer. Bo approached him hesitantly, watching his face. "So you see, if I made a mistake by joining the Death Eaters, it was not only because of an error in my logic, but also because of an error in my own judgment. I could not believe I had been so wrong. I had to uncover the truth for myself. I had to know."

Slowly, he turned to look at her, and although his face was quite stoic, his eyes glittered strangely with something like melancholy.

"Albus Dumbledore was a powerful wizard. When I found him on the North Tower at Hogwarts, he was ill, weak. Draco had managed to disarm him. It was his responsibility; the Dark Lord had set him the task of killing Dumbledore once and for all. Of course Draco could not have done it. How could he succeed, where the Dark Lord himself had failed so many times? But then Narcissa came to me, begged me to help her son. It was quite foolish of her to do so, for the Dark Lord would not have approved...though, I admit, her words moved me. And when she asked me to make a promise--to take the Unbreakable Vow--I, too, foolishly agreed. Had I not killed Dumbledore, the Vow would have killed me, and Draco would also be dead for having failed. So it is true. I killed him. But he was a mere shadow of himself that night. There was no honor, no glory in taking his life."

Bo absorbed this information slowly, letting his every word sink in. So, he had taken the Unbreakable Vow. She was surprised, and a little bewildered, to find a wave of relief sweeping over her like a cooling mist. This knowledge would not be enough of an answer for most people, she knew. But for the time being, it was enough for her.

"You're taking a risk, telling me about the Vow, aren't you?" she asked softly.

"Not such a great risk, when one considers this," he said, holding up the quill. "And also the fact that both of your aunts would undoubtedly be made to pay for their parts in the Vow, should the Dark Lord ever hear of it." He tossed the quill back onto the table and eyed the scroll of parchment. "What is your first task?"

"I haven't read the scroll yet," she confessed. "I was just about to, when you arrived."

Without waiting for any admonitions, she took the scroll from the table and, steeling herself against the unknown, broke the green Dark Mark seal in half. Unrolling the parchment, she watched as a short sentence appeared in the middle of the scroll, as if the paper itself was bleeding ink in an intricate pattern.

You must force Draco Malfoy to come before me.

Bo read the sentence several times silently to herself, and then repeated it to Snape, adding, "What does he mean, 'force'? Surely, if I tell Draco--"

"Draco would flee," said Snape, frowning. "Or attempt to fight his way past you if you try to restrain him."

"But--I thought Draco had already gone before the Dark Lord. Aunt Bella told me he had forgiven Draco for his failure."

"No," said Snape gravely, his frown deepening. "Draco has been in hiding since the night of Dumbledore's death. Bella may be correct; the Dark Lord may forgive Draco yet, for it was he who provided the other Death Eaters with access to Hogwarts. And though it was I who killed him, Dumbledore is still dead. But by attempting to hide from his master, Draco has displayed cowardice, and the Dark Lord does not allow cowardice to pass unpunished."

Bo considered this for a moment. If the Dark Lord only intended to punish Draco, not to kill him, perhaps it would be better if she could convince him to go before their new master on his own. She could use the opportunity to both complete her first task and to help her cousin avoid the worst of Voldemort's wrath.

"If Draco has gone into hiding, how am I to find him?"

Snape looked at her, the frown still heavy on his face.

"Can you think of no one who is likely to know his hiding place?" he asked softly. Bo's eyes widened in sudden realization and she whispered breathlessly,

"Aunt Cissy."