A Merciless Affection

Chapter 36: Order Your Fine Horses Now

They appeared in a dark-paneled room, where her aunt Fiona stood leaning against a large desk; this was probably her uncle's study, although she didn't recall ever having been inside it. But Sarah only had a moment to take in the scene before her arms were pinned roughly and suddenly behind her back. The strap of her school bag fell off her shoulder and gouged painfully into her lower arm.

"Take her wand, Fiona," Franklin barked, gripping her painfully hard.

Sarah kicked out at her aunt as the woman approached. Ten years had not made much difference in Fiona's face: at least, she wore the same sour expression she had always turned on Sarah when she was a child. But her eyes were harder than Sarah remembered them being, and they grew harder still as a laugh rang out from elsewhere in the room, somewhere behind Sarah's right shoulder. Sarah knew that laugh, and it sent a wave of terror through her that set her struggling like a fish on a hook.

Fiona took a step back and pulled out her wand.

"A little taste of Crucio should settle her down," said a familiar female voice--the owner of the laugh.

"Nooooo!" Sarah screamed, bending as far double as her uncle's grip would let her, bracing herself as Fiona waved her wand.

"Locomotor Mortis!" Fiona said. As she put away her wand, she added, "You see, Bellatrix, it isn't always necessary to resort to such crude methods of persuasion."

The Leg-Locker curse had done its job, and Sarah was unable to move the lower half of her body. That did not stop her from continuing to struggle to pull her arms free. But as Fiona reached out with her slender hands and began running them over Sarah's robes, looking for the girl's wand, another danger became apparent. And Severian, who had been quiescent up to now, chose that moment to reinforce his mother's realization with a somersault that echoed the sensation in her heart. Within seconds, Fiona shrieked and stepped back, her face twisted with shock.

"Has she got some protective spell on her?" Bella asked, her amusement at the setback obvious in her voice.

Fiona didn't answer. Instead she grabbed the front of Sarah's robes and tried to jerk them open. When the buttons refused to give, she growled in her throat and began undoing them with frantic haste.

"What's the matter?" Franklin asked. Sarah had stopped struggling, frozen now with her own helplessness. The game was up.

"An illusion belt!" Fiona said, as she got enough of the buttons undone to reveal the magical device underneath. Bella, curious, finally moved into Sarah's field of vision. But all Sarah's attention was demanded by her aunt, who began raging at her: "How dare you! Little whore!" She lifted a hand, unexpectedly, and Sarah found herself reeling, her head ringing, her face stung from the open-handed blow. "She's pregnant, Franklin."

Her uncle emitted a stream of words foul enough to make Sarah quail.

"Opening your legs like any Knockturn whore. You little bitch!" Fiona shrieked at her. "How dare you conceive a child with...with that! How dare you mingle the best blood of the wizarding world with...with gutter refuse!"

"I guess it's a good thing I picked a wizard," Sarah said, the corner of her mouth still stinging. "Goodness knows what you'd say if I'd slept with a Muggle."

She knew that remark would merit a blow, and she let her head roll away from it this time, minimizing the impact. Although it still hurt. But it was worth it. An unaccustomed arrogance had risen up in her, making her ability to send her aunt into such transports of rage a very sweet thing...for a moment, at least, before her aunt's next words converted all to wormwood.

"We'll have to destroy it." The comment--which set Sarah writhing again and shouting No!--was aimed at Franklin, but it was Bella who answered first.

"How far along is she?"

Fiona fumbled at the belt, then drew it from around Sarah's waist. "Six or seven months."

"You'll have to wait," Bella said. "There's no safe way to rid her of it now. Any attempt, by potion or spell, might kill her along with the child. And that would be rather difficult for you to explain to our Master, Fiona."

Sarah was glad to see Fiona's slight flinch and the look of terror that swept briefly across her face, leaving it less confident than before.

"You can't keep me here until then," Sarah said. "I'm expected back at school on Sunday." That is, if Severus doesn't come for me first. But she didn't say it, and the thought was tinged with fear for him--it would be three to one, if she couldn't get her wand back, and there was no knowing who else might be in the house.

"Your father would have been ashamed of you! He would have cast you out of the family for doing such a thing!" Fiona said, resorting to bitterness.

"If you had ever cared for me, I wouldn't have had to resort to such a thing," Sarah retorted.

"Was that his price for teaching you the Dark Arts?"

In a sense, it had been. Or at least, if she hadn't slept with him, if she hadn't conceived his child, she would not be here now. She set her face in a defiant look. "I would have done it anyway."

Another slap. This one brought tears of pain to her eyes. Her head and neck were starting to develop a permanent ache, and the heavy books dragging on her arm were becoming almost unbearably uncomfortable.

"Have you no sense of pride in your name?" Fiona asked, still bitterly.

Sarah didn't answer, uncertain what she could say that wouldn't provoke her aunt to strike her again.

"I told you he was using you," Franklin said. "No doubt the child was his idea."

"What makes you think that?" Sarah said, truly perplexed for the first time since she had arrived, although she tried to cover it with a sneer.

She was surprised that his answer was a laugh; Bella joined him in it, and even Fiona's frown lightened a tad. Franklin said, "You don't see what a climber he is? He scrabbled his way up from Knockturn Alley, and he's scrabbled his way up in the Dark Lord's graces. He's risen further than any man has a right to expect. But it's not enough, is it? Not enough even to stand at the Dark Lord's right hand, and to bed the daughter of one of his betters. Thought he'd plant his seed higher than he could ever hope to reach himself."

"It wasn't his idea!" Sarah shouted, cutting him off. Why was she so appalled at the vision her uncle was outlining? It couldn't be true. It couldn't. There had been mutual attraction; there was nothing more to it than that.

Her assertion was met with more chuckles.

"Regardless," Fiona said. "The child will be disposed of when it's born. And you will marry someone suitable to your station in life."

"If you dare harm a hair of my baby's head, I'll make you wish you'd never been born yourself!" Sarah had never wanted to hurt someone as much as she wanted to hurt Fiona now. Franklin and Bella, too.

"It is wizard born," Franklin said. "We needn't kill it. Surely someone would take it in. Perhaps Bella...."

"If I'd wanted a puling brat, I'd have had one of my own, Franklin," Bella said.

"I want it dead!" Fiona protested. "I won't have such an abomination walking the earth with my family's blood in its veins."

"It'll be a wizard, Fiona," Franklin said sharply, and the sense of command was palpable. "And of pure blood, regardless of how low. That's not a thing we can afford to throw away."

Fiona's expression tightened; as always, she would have to give way to her husband, but she was clearly more petulant about her concession this time than Sarah had ever noticed in her childhood. "If you can find someone willing to take that horrible man's get, then so be it. But I don't want to ever see it." She stalked out of the room.

"I won't marry Draco Malfoy," Sarah said, as much to her aunt's retreating back as to her elders who still remained in the room.

Bella laughed again. "I really don't think my darling nephew could handle you. Not yet, anyway. And not ever, if Lucius carries on training the boy as badly as he does."

"You're to marry Hannibal," Franklin said.

"My first cousin?" Sarah asked, aghast. Hannibal was the Notts' second son; she was little surprised to learn that he had not married yet, since he had been almost eight years older than her. "Aren't the old families inbred enough? What kind of abominations does my aunt want to have walking the earth with Darkglass blood in their veins?" She twisted her aunt's words mockingly, but inside she was afraid. She had once sat behind a sofa and listened to the wives of her father's friends discussing the grim fates of pureblood children who had been born with deformities or simple minds as a result of their parents' tangled family trees.

"A mere formality, to insure that your loyalties remain properly within your family," Franklin assured, and then he leaned in close to her ear and whispered, "There are other options for children, you know. I'm only your uncle by marriage, and your children would still properly be Hannibal's heirs."

"You wouldn't dare!" Sarah gasped, her heart pounding even faster than it had been, and she struggled again, horrified at his touch, although only his words had changed that. "What does Fiona think of your little plan?"

"I'm sure she'd be just as happy, if it kept him out of her bed," Bella said, with a smirk.

"Shut up, Bellatrix," Franklin said.

"What about Hannibal? Does he know what you intend to do?" Sarah asked.

"He's rather too fond of his little Muggle mistress down in London, so he won't bother about you much. Though unless you want to tempt his ire by revealing that you've cuckolded him with his own father--oh yes," he interrupted her attempt to protest, "I'll make sure he knows that it was you who did the seducing--then you'll keep your mouth shut. I could Oblivate you, of course. But it's really rather better if I don't, since I wouldn't want you thinking you were actually carrying your cousin's child: you might do something...rash. But if you don't cooperate with me, that's exactly what you will be doing."

Sarah felt helplessness overwhelming her in waves as he spoke. No, Severus would save her. Somehow. But would Katie even remember to give Angelina the message? Damn her mother's spells! No, she thought, scrambling for even a narrow ledge of hope, this was not something they could do to her in merely a weekend. If she was not in school on Monday, there would be people looking for her. McGonagall as well as Severus. Possibly even Professor Dumbledore.

Franklin went on, his voice almost a caress, urging, "Think of it, Sarah. You'll be mistress of Darkglass Hall." Her heart traitorously skipped a beat. "Besides, I thought you admired Hannibal when you were a child."

She had, but any foolish fondness in her memories of that long-ago, almost-grown-up, dark-haired boy was crushed by her uncle's insistent words. "No," she said flatly. "I won't marry him. And I most assuredly won't sleep with you.

"You will."

"What if our Master says differently?" It was appalling to be invoking protection from the Dark Lord, and equally appalling that it might be the only thing that could save her.

"We talked about Imperio earlier, Sarah. I daresay the Dark Lord will be willing to grant such an earnest request of Malcolm's daughter."

"He'd see that you were controlling me in an instant!"

Bella snorted softly. "But would he care?"

"What's your part in this?" Sarah turned her anger on the female Death Eater. "If I'm not marrying your nephew?"

"It's you I'm interested in," Bella said. She grabbed Sarah's chin and held her head up, attempting to force her to meet her eyes. There was a subtle suggestiveness in her words that sent a chill through Sarah. But Bella laughed, as if she were mocking Sarah's sudden fear. "I want your mind, girl, not your body. Franklin, you've had your chance and bungled it. Let me try now."

"Remember our agreement, Bella!" Franklin warned.

"Of course I do. But you were hardly likely to get her to cooperate with you by treating her as you've done thus far. If you have a guest room prepared for her, I'll take her there and we'll have a little chat, woman to woman. Oh, by the way, Fiona never got her wand." Bella frisked Sarah efficiently, locating the wand in her pocket.

"I'll take that," Franklin said. He let Sarah go, wrenching her school bag away in the process, pushing her in the opposite direction with enough momentum to discourage any attempt to lunge back toward bag or wand. Fortunately, the Leg-Locker curse had worn off, but she stumbled a little on legs that had been subjected to magical control, and almost fell.

"Be careful with her!" Bella snapped. Looking as though she would rather spit at him than hand Sarah's wand over to him, she thrust the thirteen inches of beechwood with unicorn hair at Franklin. Sarah felt as if she had been stabbed with it herself, as a sharp despair pierced her heart. Without a wand, a witch was no better than a Squib. And if her uncle should break it--out of spite, or as an intentional means of maintaining his control over her--she would not be able to afford a new one.

"Gurgy will show you to the girl's quarters," Franklin said dismissively, pocketing Sarah's wand with an expression of disgust, and retrieving her bag from the floor. "Don't be so foolish as to leave the door unlocked when you've done with her, Bella. Although by then it may be suppertime. You'll be sent for."

Sarah watched Bella sneer at him as he strode out. But if she'd had any hope of catching the woman off-guard, it vanished as Bella whipped out her wand and trained it on Sarah.

"Just a little precaution. You needn't look so alarmed. I may be the best friend you have right now, Sarah Darkglass."

It was, horribly, most likely the truth.

"What do you want from me?" Sarah asked, not bothering to hide her suspicion. She rubbed at her wrists; it was difficult to remove the feel of her uncle's grip. Worse even than the furrow across her arm from her bag.

"First, to talk. Oh, I do want things from you," Bella said, obviously noting her disbelieving expression. "But let's clear the air a bit first. Make sure that we each know where the other stands."

"Fine," Sarah said. There was nothing to be gained at this point from resistance, not when Bella seemed willing to at least pretend to be civil.

"Fine ladies?" said a thin voice near the floor. It belonged to a house-elf, probably male, altogether gangly, and clad in a strip of patchwork that, upon closer inspection, proved to be a worn-out banner. "Master says Gurgy must be showing you to the troublesome girl's room now. If ladies like?" His impulse to show respect to guests was, quite obviously, badly at odds with his master's commands, and he looked confused and worried.

"We'll go with you, Gurgy," Sarah said gently. She didn't remember this house-elf; she wondered what had happened to old Jinna, who had always seen to it that young Sarah got a forbidden (had anyone else known about it) treat at bedtime.

Sarah followed the house-elf out of the room, nervously aware of Bella--whose wand was still drawn--shadowing her back. Gurgy silently led them through rooms and hallways that stirred dim memories up from the murky depths of the past. That funny little brown jug still sat on the shelf, the great clock still cut time in slices with its sword-shaped pendulum, and the old woman in the pink bonnet still snored inside her ornate frame up in the second floor hallway. But the room to which they were finally taken was altogether unfamiliar.

Sarah had always slept in her own little bed in the antechamber of her parents' suite when they came to visit her aunt and uncle. But this room, though furnished for a lady, was obviously intended to be a gilded prison. The outside of the door sported a series of complicated locks, and there were bars on the lone window. A quick glance around the room revealed nothing that could readily be used as a weapon.

"Gurgy is not allowed to talk with the troublesome girl," the house-elf said, facing Bella to fulfill the obvious requirement, although his eyes were swiveled toward Sarah. "But Gurgy hears Master say she must obey or bad things happens, so Gurgy warns her: do not resist Master."

"I'm sure she realizes that," Bella said dryly. "Now follow your orders and leave us!"

With a sharp squeak, the house-elf vanished.

* * *

Sarah hugged herself tightly. "What do you want with me, Bellatrix?"

"I see you've dropped any pretense of respect for your elders. There's no doubt who we have to thank for that."

Sarah did not answer, but stood waiting, fixing the older woman with a rigid stare.

Bella's face became a mask of secret contemplation. "Do you trust your lover?"

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked, as her heart jumped into a gallop again.

"Do you believe Severus Snape is loyal to the Dark Lord?"

"Of course," Sarah stammered, hoping that she sounded baffled instead of anxious. "Why wouldn't he be?"

"I have reasons to wonder," Bella said coolly. "Perhaps you will wonder, too, when I've told them to you."

Desperate to reassure the woman, Sarah said, "If he's not loyal to our cause, I'll kill him myself." And I will, too, she thought, if I've gone through all this for nothing.

Bella smiled a shark-like smile. "Men don't understand that, do they? Women are capable of being so much deadlier than men, given the right motivation. There are too few women in the Dark Lord's service."

"And this relates to me how?" Sarah asked. "I can hardly join the Inner Circle if I'm being kept captive to breed for them." She jerked her head toward the door to indicate her relatives.

"Do you want to join the Inner Circle?"

Sarah's throat tightened, and she blinked. Finally she managed, "I wish to serve in whatever capacity the Dark Lord sees fit."

"Even if that means being raped by your uncle?" Bella mocked.

Sarah sank down in a chair and brought her hands to her face. If the Dark Lord saw fit...she might very well be as trapped as her uncle believed her to be: her baby, her wand and Severus all taken from her.

"Is he any good?"

Sarah lifted her head, puzzled. "What?"

"Is Severus Snape any good in bed?" Bella asked. She had sat down on the edge of the bed, and now she laid back, stretching sensuously, her long, black hair spilling loosely around her head. "I admit I was tempted to find out, when we were in school. Appearance is hardly ever an indicator of talent. But I never quite managed to convince myself to stoop so...low." She sat up again, studying Sarah with hooded eyes. "Well?"

Sarah found herself at a complete loss--her face was hot and her mouth gaped partly open as she tried to manufacture some clever comment and failed utterly. She felt, at that moment, entirely like the schoolgirl she was. "Yes, yes he is," she stammered.

Bella laughed. "Oh, how quaint! You've never been with anyone else, have you?"

The wit that had eluded her a moment ago rushed with full force into Sarah's tongue. "Is that a requirement for female Death Eaters? Having taken a certain number of men into your bed?" she asked acidly.

Anger flashed sharply for a moment in Bella's eyes, but she mastered it. "You're still very young. You may change your mind about such things as you...mature." The last word held as much acid as Sarah's comment had. "And I must admit you've been quite successful at something I never attempted: seducing one's professor."

Sarah cringed inwardly at the picture the older woman's words painted; even Professor McGonagall had not been able to make her feel so ashamed. With a few words, Bella had managed to pull Sarah down to her own level, had managed to make her feel right at home there.

Bella smirked. "You're not one of their meek little women and you know it. I can help you there."

"Why did my uncle invite you here? It sounds to me as if what you're offering and what he wants from me are at cross purposes."

Bella stood and began pacing. "It was obvious to me that he was very unlikely to convince you to cooperate in his plans. And keeping a prisoner is so tedious--so many things can go wrong. Indeed, they already have. Your present condition makes it quite impossible to carry out his original intention of marrying you to your cousin this very weekend."

Dear God. Had her uncle really dared to risk presenting her before the Dark Lord already wed--a fait accompli? Of course, that was also the risk that Severus was taking....

"Where do you come in?" Sarah asked.

"I suggested to Franklin that a slight delay in his plans might be worthwhile if I could secure your eventual cooperation. The Dark Lord needs faithful Death Eaters to achieve his victory, not pureblood broodmares. But it was clear to me at the meeting that Severus doesn't want you to take the Dark Mark." She threw back her head, as if she would laugh, but instead she exclaimed, "How he must enjoy having you under his thumb! He does, you know--just as much as Franklin wishes to." Bella leveled her chin again. "I believe better of you than he does."

"But he's right," Sarah said, although she felt strangely ashamed at what she was saying. "I can't Apparate very well. And my real talents are with potions."

"That keeps you where he wants you: in his bed and under his control! Sweet Merlin, how can you bear that? I can understand that you would take advantage of the temporary benefits, but he is not even your equal!"

Sarah's eyes prickled with unshed tears. She did not know how to answer.

"Do you fancy yourself in love with him?" Bella did laugh then, her horrible, piercing laugh.

"No one else loves me," Sarah mumbled.

"Nor does he, foolish girl! You heard what your uncle said. And I've known Severus since my third year at Hogwarts: he was never content with his station in life, and he always knew just who to kiss up to, in order to rise in the world. Severus cares only for himself."

Sarah shook her head.

"Do you think he serves the Dark Lord out of loyalty?" Bella went on. "He knows power when he sees it. When he thought our Master had fallen, he was quick enough to lick Dumbledore's boots, as his next best option. Even now, I don't trust him. Nor should you."

It was fascinating and useful--the cool, detached part of Sarah's mind thought--that Bella assumed that Sarah was loyal. But to the rest of her mind, that was merely a matter of academic interest. Bella was wrong about Severus. Franklin was wrong.

"Why shouldn't I?" Sarah asked. "He's done more for me than any of you."

"Did you know that he prevented the Dark Lord from obtaining the Philosopher's Stone four years ago? While so many of us sat in prison, he sat in Dumbledore's pocket. He's had every opportunity to destroy Harry Potter for five long years, and he hasn't lifted a finger against the boy. What excuses does he have? Has it never occurred to you to ask him?"

And at what point, Sarah wondered, will you begin to suspect me?

"He's the Dark Lord's spy inside Hogwarts, isn't he? He would hardly be an effective spy if he revealed his true loyalties."

"He's hardly an effective spy if he can't find a way to act secretly!" Bella spat. "With Harry Potter out of the way, and Dumbledore becoming a doddering old man, the Dark Lord's victory is assured."

"Perhaps," Sarah suggested, "Severus was afraid that he would meet the same fate as our Master did, if he tried to kill Potter. No one knew how the boy did it. I certainly wouldn't dare to attempt something that nearly killed the most powerful wizard in the world."

"The little Gryffindor isn't so courageous?"

"I never claimed to be. Would you have attempted it?"

Bella's sneering face went blank for a moment. "I would do anything my Master ordered me to do!"

"Perhaps the Dark Lord has never ordered Severus to attempt to kill Potter." She hoped she was right about that. No, she must be, else the Dark Lord would not trust him.

"Believe in him if you choose, then," Bella said, exaggerating a shrug. "I should have known better than to try to convince his lover otherwise. But just remember what I said."

"And you remember what I said," Sarah returned. "If his loyalty fails, I'll kill him myself."

"Are you actually capable of that, girl? Do you know any spells for killing?"

"I told you, I know potions."

"You think so little of his knowledge that you believe you could poison him unawares?"

Sarah pressed her lips together hard.

"Have you ever cast an Unforgivable?"

"No," Sarah admitted. "I'm not keen on going to Azkaban."

The word sent a spasm across Bella's face, which she turned quickly into a sneer. "Then how do you to intend to prevent your uncle from having his way?"

"Surely it's up to the Dark Lord to decide," Sarah said, laying that terrible card down again. "And I know my uncle isn't among the highest in his favor in the Inner Circle."

"The Dark Lord will indulge you, I feel quite sure, in whatever you request. He has more important business than to waste his time deciding what to do with you. Everyone knows that. Certainly Severus knows it--if the Dark Lord learns that you are carrying Severus's child, it is more than likely he will grant the spoils where you have already given them."

Sarah could not keep her heart from rising at this. Even Bella believed that they had good chance. "Then why should I cooperate with anyone else, if the Dark Lord is prepared to give me what I want?"

"Do you not understand, girl?" Bella raised her voice. "No one else is prepared to let you have what you so foolishly believe you want. Franklin will keep you prisoner here, if he must. He is quite prepared to use the Imperius curse if you refuse to cooperate on your own. He even mentioned using the Fidelius Charm to hide you from Severus. Your child will be taken from you, so you'll never see it again. And in a trice you'll be flat on your back, doped up with fertility potions."

Sarah could not bear to hear any more of this horrible litany. "Then what do you have to offer me? Didn't you promise my uncle you'd get me to cooperate?"

"On your own terms! You want Darkglass Hall, don't you? A marriage of convenience to Hannibal would give that back to you."

"The price is too high!" Sarah averred, but her heart flinched at her declaration. There was truly no other way to get it back.

"By the time I finish training you, your uncle won't dare to lay a finger on you. As a Death Eater of the Inner Circle, no one would have any idea of you bearing a child until our victory is complete. And there's something more that Franklin doesn't know; perhaps even the Dark Lord doesn't know: once you take the Dark Mark you'll be sterile."

Sarah blinked. "How do you know that?" she asked anxiously.

"I had to put a stop to more than one pregnancy when I was in school," Bella said, with a slight toss of her head that seemed a bit too flippant for real indifference. "After I took the Dark Mark, I never conceived again."

You might have destroyed your own fertility, Sarah thought, with so many potions. But the idea was still chilling. Not that she had thought further than Severian. But if they were going to take him away from her...if she could never have another child....

Bella went on, "So you see, you could take whatever lovers you please, with adequate discretion...even your precious Potions master, if he doesn't prove to be a traitor."

"And my son?" Sarah laid a hand reflexively on the curve of her stomach, as a tiny, silent drumbeat of kicks demanded her attention.

"You can bear him in secret. Choose his foster parents yourself. Give him to his father if you want to," Bella finished disdainfully.

It was impossible to agree--Sarah had a clear image in her mind of what Bella's training would be like, and she wanted nothing of it: it would break her--and yet, with so few other options, the temptation was more profound than she would have imagined. A marriage to Hannibal would be null and void, but none of them need know that except herself and Severus. Darkglass Hall would be hers. Severian would be safe.

And I would become whatever Bellatrix Lestrange chooses to make me....

Something had been niggling at her since she first saw the woman here in her uncle's house, and now, struggling for something to say, her mind lighted upon it again. "Why would you make this deal with the Notts instead of the Malfoys?"

"Perhaps I want to see my sister have grandchildren," Bella said, but her hesitation before answering had been a tad too long.

"Lucius wouldn't agree with your plan, would he?"

"Lucius would rather count on our Master's favor to secure you for Draco," Bella sneered.

"Then he doesn't know what my uncle intends?"
"Of course not! He'd be here in an instant. Not that it would do him any good. Franklin has guards around the house, and I helped him increase the wards myself."

"So much for family loyalty," Sarah said, scoffing.

"My loyalty is to the Dark Lord!" Bella's face contorted. "My plan would serve him best."

"It wouldn't hurt your favor with him, either. But suppose that Severus is right about my abilities?"

"Then I'll abandon you to your fate," Bella snapped. "If you aren't willing to make the effort."

"Hardly an incentive to agree, is it?"

"You prefer the alternative? Or do you really think that Severus will even attempt to save you?" Bella mocked. "If you refuse me, I won't stand in your uncle's way, whatever he chooses to do. And I doubt he's been twiddling his thumbs, waiting to see if I can persuade you. He'll have thought of something else. If he can shut Fiona up, he might even claim that this child is Hannibal's. And he'd make sure you couldn't or wouldn't deny it."

"I couldn't begin your training until after my baby is born," Sarah protested. If she pretended to agree, that might at least allow her to return to Hogwarts at the end of the weekend unharmed.

"Oh, I'm willing to wait." Bella looked smug. It would have been easy for Sarah, at that moment, to say "yes, I'll do it," then to wait until later, until she was safe, to tell Bella where to stuff it. But breaking such an agreement, once it was made, would mean making an enemy of the woman forever, and there was something about Bella's eyes--perhaps a lingering madness from her years in Azkaban--that hinted at how dangerous that would be. More dangerous than making an enemy of any two men in the Dark Lord's Inner Circle.

Sarah took a deep breath. "I need to think."

"Think all you like," Bella said. "But don't think too long."