The Black Sheep

chapter six

The Second Task

Bo stood frozen in shock, desperately hoping she had misunderstood Voldemort's directive, and knowing all the while that she had heard him quite clearly. Her mind struggled to free itself from the stupor that had struck with his words. Stall, it screamed at her, stall for time.

"My Lord?" she asked weakly.

Voldemort continued to smile unpleasantly, his red eyes narrowing as he stepped closer to her. He had regained some of his calculating demeanor, and the dangerous edge had returned, unmistakably, to his voice when he answered.

"You know what must be done. I suggest that you do it, before I kill both you and the boy where you stand."

Bo's heart pounded furiously in her chest as she drew her wand. She dared to cast a fleeting glance behind her, where Bella and Snape stood just next to each other. Bella's entire face was ghostly white, her eyes wide and locked on Draco. Snape, by contrast, looked as though he felt absolutely nothing. He stared back at Bo when she caught his eye and his expression remained completely blank. And suddenly, Bo was overcome by a rush of fury. Neither her aunt, nor her former mentor was going to even attempt to help her. She glared down at Draco still trembling on all fours, and her anger grew as she listened to his steady stream of piteous whimpering. It's his own fault, she told herself in outrage, if he'd done as I asked, neither of us would be in this impossible situation! He tried to use the curse on me! She pointed her wand at his hunched back and as his eyes widened in horror, she shouted, "Crucio!"

His scream rent the air like a deafening clap of thunder. His arms immediately folded, bringing his head crashing to the floor. His legs curled into his chest until his body had rolled into a tight fetal position, twitching and shuddering as he shrieked in agony. It wasn't until a particularly violent convulsion flipped Draco onto his back that Bo finally saw his face. He looked to be in so much pain that his features were almost inhuman. Bo lifted her wand, and Draco's continuous, piercing scream changed immediately into loud, desperate sobs. She stared at him silently for quite some time before a voice spoke very closely into her ear.

"Oh, I think he needs a bit more instruction," whispered Voldemort, his breath raising the hairs on her neck, making her shudder. "It's a lesson that I intend for him never to forget."

Bo could not tear her eyes from Draco's face. Unfallen tears hung from his chin and nose, and he continued to weep, occasionally jerking with an involuntary spasm. She had always thought of her young cousin as the sibling she wished to have had, rather than the one she'd been stuck with. Nymphadora's face loomed out of the recesses of Bo's mind. If this is anyone's fault, she thought savagely, it's my wretched sister's. I wanted to stay out of this. I shouldn't even be here. It's all Nymphadora's fault.

And then, unbidden and unwelcome, her mother's face replaced her sister's and Bo could almost hear her mother's voice saying, "You know very well that you have no one but yourself to blame, Boadicea." The wave of intense anger that had subsided when Bo had seen Draco's face flared up so sharply that, without thinking, she bellowed "Crucio!" again, her wand pointed directly at Draco's chest. And again Draco shrieked, his hands twisting into claw-like shapes as his limbs kicked and flailed. The other Death Eaters were all watching him writhing around on the floor, some with eyes wide and fearful, some with looks of mild distaste, and a few who seemed to be greatly enjoying themselves. Bella's mouth had fallen open, though her eyes were still locked in alarm on her nephew's crumpled form. Snape did not once look at Draco but continued to watch Bo with the same blank expression. When Draco's voice began to grow so hoarse that he could no longer scream, Voldemort leaned in to whisper a second time in Bo's ear.

"I think that is sufficient."

Bo's wand arm dropped as if it had suddenly been turned into lead. She stared at her cousin with unfocused eyes, and her chest heaved as it did when she had been running. Draco had curled back into a ball, and though he made no sound, he shivered violently and his arms and legs still jerked spastically. Voldemort surveyed the scene with a highly satisfied smirk tugging the corner of his mouth.

"You've done well, Boadicea," he said. "You have one more task to complete, and then you shall be a true Death Eater, worthy of the mark you wear." He turned to Bella, saying, "Take your nephew back to his mother, Bella. You are both to remain there until I call for you."

Her mouth still hanging open, Bella nodded in consent, and she bent down to collect Draco from the floor. Moaning feebly as Bella lifted him into a standing position, his head lolled to one side as she half-carried him out of the room and into the hallway toward the exit. Voldemort turned on his heel and disappeared down the opposite hallway, leaving Bo surrounded by the other Death Eaters. As his master left, Amycus hurried forward and grasped Bo's left hand in his, shaking it heartily.

"Well done, indeed," he said, his sweaty fingers squeezing Bo's hand. "I don't think I've ever seen a more efficient Cruciatus Curse."

Bo did not hear him and even if she had, she could not speak. Her eyes were still locked on the spot where Draco had been. Her mother's voice echoed inside her head, along with Draco's shrill screams, and she could hear nothing else. Amycus did not seem disturbed in the least by Bo's lack of response. He continued to shake her hand, his eyes wandering from her face to various other parts of her body. His inspection was abruptly interrupted, however, when Snape grasped both of her shoulders and yanked her away from the squat, leering man, saying coldly, "As much as we all enjoy watching your perverted little mind at work, Amycus, I'm afraid that Boadicea and I have a bit of business to attend to. You must excuse us."

He steered Bo into the hallway, opened the front door, and roughly shoved her outside before closing the door behind them.

"We are going back to your home," he told her in a low, harsh voice. "I will follow you."

Bo complied, going through the motions without being truly aware of what she was doing. She apparated a few feet from the steps to her front door, and Snape joined her as she unlocked it and went inside. She stood in the entryway, staring at the second-story staircase in a slight daze. Without saying a word, Snape closed and locked the door, grasped her right arm, and pulled her into the living room. He pushed her into one of her armchairs, glaring at her with a sour look on his face. She looked up at him and it was a few minutes before she was able to speak. She was dully aware of the telltale heat building behind her eyes and the nasty lump forming in her throat.

"Will he be alright?"

"He'll be fine in a day or two," said Snape curtly.

"I've...I've never..." her voice trailed off and Snape exhaled sharply, still glaring down at her with a deep frown.

"Of course you've never. I told you that you are not prepared for this, Boadicea, any more than Draco was prepared. And now look at the both of you, indentured to a man who disposes of anyone he cannot use. Draco had a narrow escape tonight. You had better start thinking things through a little more carefully from now on, or you may not be so lucky," he said scathingly, and Bo was forcefully reminded of her days in the front row of his potions classes. The memory helped a little to bring herself back to the present.

"I didn't exactly have a choice," she said angrily.

"You made your choice when you first came before the Dark Lord," said Snape, his own temper flaring.

"I believe I explained my reasons for that."

"Yes, and they were shockingly stupid reasons, at that. You always were impatient; it is perhaps your greatest weakness."

"Don't talk to me like I'm still one of your students!" Bo shouted, rising from her chair. She returned his glare, staring defiantly into his dark eyes. "Unless I've misunderstood something, you and I are in pretty much the same predicament, so don't presume to stand there and judge me for making the same mistakes you have made, you hypocrite!"

Bo expected a quick and scornful reply, but it did not come. Snape just stood there, watching her silently for several long moments. When he did speak, it was with the quiet cadence of someone choosing their words with care.

"The life of a double-agent is fraught with peril, by its very nature. You need not continue to place yourself in that position, Boadicea. I suggest that you use your quill to advise the other--interested party--that you will no longer be providing them with any information. Or simply toss it into the fire. You've received the Dark Mark; you belong to the Dark Lord now, and so you cannot leave his service if you wish to remain alive and healthy. Eliminate the other obligation, and you vastly increase your chance of survival."

Bo paused, her heart skipping a beat.

"Is that what you did?" she asked breathlessly.

There was another long moment of silence during which Snape continued to regard Bo closely, the deep frown still pulling the corners of his mouth toward the floor. She returned his gaze, unaware that she was holding her breath until she suddenly exhaled as he spoke.

"I must return to the Dark Lord. Remember what I've told you," he added, as he swept from the room and out of the front door. Bo listened to him leave, a sick feeling blossoming in her stomach. Alone in her living room, her mind fought against the vague numbness that threatened to consume it for the third time that day. She suddenly felt extremely tired, and yet could not bring herself to go upstairs and to bed. She cast a sideways glance at the Confidentiality Quill on the table, and considered Snape's advice. She could not deny that cutting ties with her sister and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix would be the smartest thing to do. What could they say to her, anyway? They had given her no real incentive, merely played on her familial sentiments; a weak strategy. I owe them nothing, she decided, and I have my own future to worry about. She walked over to the table and took up the quill, dipping it into a nearby inkwell. She thought for a moment, and reaching for a scrap of paper, she scratched out these words, though the ink that left the quill made no visible mark:

The task has become too dangerous. I am destroying the quill.

You shall not hear from me again.

Walking over to the fireplace, she crumpled the paper and the quill in her left hand and drew out her wand with her right. She brandished her wand at the fireplace, muttered "Incendio," and a bright yellow fire erupted in the grate. Unceremoniously, she tossed both the paper and the quill into the fire, watching them burn and feeling far too exhausted to care much about it one way or the other. She continued to stare into the fire for quite some time after the quill had been burnt into ashes. When her eyes finally refused to stay open, she shuffled out of the living room and up the stairs to her bedroom, collapsing onto her bed still fully clothed.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Bo had no idea how long she'd been asleep when a sudden noise woke her with a start. She tried to quiet her pounding heart, held her breath, and listened intently, all the while working her wand out of her pocket. There was silence for a few moments, and then another loud bang which sounded as if it came from the staircase. Bo might have begun to panic had the intruder not followed the bang with an equally loud and obscene expletive. She recognized the voice at once. Leaping from her bed, she stormed out of her bedroom and glared down at Tonks, beside herself with fury.

"What do you think you are doing here?!" she hissed.

Tonks glared up at her sister from the bottom of the staircase with an upended coat rack, over which she had obviously tripped, in her hands.

"What did you expect, after that note?" she asked angrily. "You think you can write something like that and not get a response?"

"That happens to be exactly what I thought, Nymphadora," said Bo, thumping down the stairs and brushing roughly past her sister on her way to the kitchen. Tonks scowled, following close behind. The kitchen at 33 Noxbury Hill was covered in white tiles with a butcher block table sitting in the middle of the room, a half dozen potted plants cluttered around the window over the sink, and a large stove sitting against the wall to the right, opposite the small pantry. Bo flicked her wand irritably at the kettle on the stove when she entered and it immediately began to whistle shrilly. She hastily made herself a cup of tea while Tonks tugged a wooden stool out from under the table and sat, looking irascible. Bo ignored her entirely until her tea was ready. She turned to the table, cup in hand, sat on another stool, and said with newly-restored calm,

"In fact, I believe I warned you twice never to come here again."

"Look, it was either this or an owl and owls can be intercepted. You were the one who seemed so concerned about secrecy. I came here incognito, and I don't think anyone saw me anyway. I am an Auror, you know; you might give me a little credit."

Bo took a slow sip of tea.

"I didn't expect a response, Nymphadora, because I thought I had made it clear in the note that I'm finished playing the spy for you and your--friends. It became quite obvious to me, in the short time that I have been a part of the Dark Lord's circle, that I will never be privy to the kind of information you would find useful. I will never be important enough to know the kinds of things Severus Snape knew. At least, not before this will all be over, I imagine."

"So what are you going to do? You're a Death Eater now, aren't you? You're just going to do as Voldemort tells you, and that's it?" Tonks asked incredulously.

"From the moment I foolishly agreed to this farcical plan, I was always going to do as the Dark Lord instructed. I'd be eliminated otherwise, and a dead spy doesn't pass any information, useful or no. If you weren't prepared for the idea that I'd have to actually do the things Death Eaters are expected to do, why did you ask this of me in the first place?"

"I--I thought..." Tonks sputtered, seemingly at a loss for words. Bo allowed herself a small, wry smile which caused Tonks to scowl again and burst out angrily, "I thought you would want to do it, knowing how many people you could help!"

"Ah yes," said Bo, frowning. "The obligatory tug on my heartstrings."

"That requires the presence of a heart," muttered Tonks in an undertone.

"Call me heartless; watch how much it affects me," Bo said coldly. "I was soft enough to listen to your impassioned plea before, and look where it has landed me. My life is in more immediate danger than yours ever was, so do not preach to me about sacrifice for the greater good. I won't be able to do much good for anyone when I'm dead, which is a lesson I thought you'd have learned by now, given our precious mother's example."

"You leave her out of this!" shouted Tonks, her face turning red.

"Why?" said Bo, her own voice growing louder. "I think it's very pertinent. She chose to stick her nose where it didn't belong and the Dark Lord took notice. If she had worried a bit less about the 'greater good' and a bit more about her own family, she'd still be here to join you in hurling insults at me."

"You know bloody well that Mum loved you!"

"Yes, she loved all of us, just not enough to put us first."

Tonks cried out in exasperation, jumping off of her stool and clenching both hands into fists.

"I can't talk to you when you're like this!"

"Then I suggest that you leave," said Bo, taking another sip of tea.

Tonks glared at her sister in silence for a moment, showing all the signs of someone making a valiant attempt to regain some composure.

"Whatever differences you and I have, I'm still your sister, Bo. I know you. You loved Mum as much as I did and I can't believe that you are just going to do whatever Voldemort tells you to do. He is the one who took Mum from us, with his own hands. You can't resign yourself to being just another of his pawns. You can't do that."

"I am left with little choice."

"I could take you to the Ministry," said Tonks on a sudden inspiration. "The Order asked you to take on this mission, so we will all corroborate your story. We could keep you in protective custody until the war is over."

"You're assuming you will win," Bo said darkly, "and from everything I have seen and heard, that possibility seems less likely with each passing day. You, of all people, should know that the Dark Lord has ways to reach anyone he wishes to punish. You'll have to forgive me if my confidence in the Ministry's competence is less than absolute."

"Then we'll make it look like you resisted," said Tonks, sounding irritated.

"And as attractive as an indefinite visit to Azkaban is, I'm afraid I'll have to take a pass."

"So that's it?" Tonks spat. "You're just giving up?"

"What I am doing, Nymphadora, is attempting to correct the deplorable lapse in judgment I made when I agreed to pass information to your little group. The more I reflect on that decision, the less I understand how I reached it in the first place. It goes against everything I have learned, everything I believed in, and so I suppose my present quandary is my own fault, in the end, for not trusting the instincts that have served me so well. I have one more task, one more obligation to the Dark Lord which I must fulfill, and then I may never have to act as Death Eater again if I am quick enough by wit and by word. That is my plan; to scrape together as much neutrality as my reckless choice to get involved in this mess will allow. You can tell that to your friends in the Order."

"You could at least tell me what your 'obligation' to Voldemort is."

Bo paused for only a moment.

"I honestly don't know yet," she said quietly.

"Fine. I just hope you can live with yourself when Voldemort is gone and this is all over," Tonks said, with a fierce sincerity both in her voice and on her face.

"And all I am hoping is that we are still alive," said Bo.

Tonks gave her one last frustrated look and left the kitchen. Again, Bo listened as her sister made her way down the hall, heard her curse as she knocked over the coat rack a second time, righted it, and finally exited through the front door. Heaving a slow, deep sigh, Bo drank the last sip of tea left in her cup and wandered into the living room. She still felt tired, and after Tonks's visit, she felt annoyed as well. Out of the corner of her eye, Bo saw the scroll Voldemort had given her sitting open on the table. In the heat of argument with Snape, and then out of pure exhaustion, she had forgotten it. Now as she moved closer to it, her heart seemed to leap inside her chest with sudden trepidation. When she had left it on the table, it had detailed her first task. Even before she lifted it to her eyes she could tell that the words had changed. She had to read the new words several times before the full meaning registered in her brain. Staring down at the scroll in perfect horror, she read the words out loud:

You must kill Narcissa Malfoy.