A Merciless Affection

Chapter 37: All the Crème de la Crème

Supper was rather later than Sarah expected. She was in the habit, at Hogwarts, of eating early in the evening, and Aunt Portia had kept very regular hours. Sarah had forgotten the rhythm of life in a great house, and she had been hungry for some time before Gurgy reappeared to walk her down. In spite of his diminutive form, she understood perfectly well that she was a prisoner, and that if she tried to be "troublesome" to his master, he would use his own magic to prevent her escape...or be punished for failing to do so.

Bella had left her--locked in, of course--to her thoughts, and while that was less cruel than other things the woman might have done, it was still a torment. Sarah found that the possibility of being able to have everything she desired was eating away at her resolve. True, she and Severus would not be able to live as man and wife if she accepted Bella's offer. But was there any possibility of them doing so, no matter what choices she made? All the same, the idea of keeping him as a secret paramour offended her sensibilities somehow. Perhaps because, whatever Bella thought, she simply wasn't that kind of woman.

But why should it matter? It wasn't as if she would be legally married to Hannibal, so she could not technically be unfaithful to him. There was even a meager possibility of explaining the situation to her cousin, enlisting his sympathy because he had an unacceptable mistress of his own. But Sarah didn't like to count on it. She had not seen him in nine years, and there was no way of knowing to what degree he had turned out to be his father's son. Hannibal might well insist on his "marital rights," simply for the sake of his pride. And his father's insistence that he attempt to produce an acceptable heir would be hanging over his head, regardless of how he felt toward her.

If she refused him categorically, there was likely to be trouble, sooner or later: her uncle might involve himself in the situation, no matter what Bella did to discourage him. And as sweet as the thought was of pawning off a child of Severus's as Hannibal's heir, realistically, too many of the wrong people now knew of her relationship with Severus for that to be feasible, even if she could bring herself to sleep with Hannibal just enough to make him believe that the child was his.

The thought of cuckolding Severus, even for their mutual benefit, even with someone relatively unobjectionable, made her feel ill. Perhaps that was the magical binding of their marriage ceremony--she had heard that it was supposed to make it uncomfortable to be unfaithful, although undoubtedly people like Lucius Malfoy managed to overcome whatever discomfort it caused easily enough. And Bella...clearly Bella had been sampling a variety of men's talents since she had first understood was sex was; even though she was married to Rodolphus Lestrange, it hardly seemed likely that she was faithful to him. But, Sarah thought, I felt this way even before we were married.

Would one binding ceremony supersede another, magically? Regardless of legalities? It was an awful thought. But how could she insist upon a different kind of ceremony without raising her uncle's suspicions? The only other reasonable alternative, for a Nott, was a church ceremony. And Sarah was not prepared to stand before God and make a vow that was lie.

She would not give Severus up. Bella's offer made it possible to avoid that, no matter how ugly the life she would have to lead in return. And Severian--who had been keeping up a steady, if erratic, reminder of his presence since their arrival here--Severian would be safe. And he would know her as his mother, at the least, from visits that would be as frequent as she could manage. Also, if something should happen to Hannibal....

Sarah had never contemplated murder before. But how much easier her life would be if Hannibal should die conveniently soon after their marriage! She would hold Darkglass Hall in her own right again, even if she had to tolerate hosting the Dark Lord now and then. (Severus had told her that he seldom remained in one place too long, lest the Aurors manage to locate his headquarters.) She might even be able to bring Severian home to her. She might have the influence and power by then to marry Severus openly, regardless of even Bella's opinion.

But would she have the will, by then, to defy Bella? Sweet Merlin, how far had she already sunk into Bella's clutches, if she could consider killing her cousin purely for her own benefit? Sarah lay on the bed and wept, at that thought. Severian had quieted, tired from all his activity, perhaps, and even with her hand on the swell of her belly, she felt terribly alone.

I don't know what to do! I just don't know what to do!

Severus would know. He was experienced at such games of evasion and deceit. If only she could speak with him...somehow....

At a sudden thought, Sarah jerked herself to her feet (she had wanted to spring to her feet, but that was becoming impossible) and made her way to the fireplace. Undoubtedly, the Floo was set to prevent departures, and probably even arrivals from anywhere outside the building, just as the fireplaces at Hogwarts were. But it might still be possible to talk through the Floo, if they hadn't thought of blocking that as well.

Whether they had thought of it or not was moot: there was no Floo powder, or even a box that might once have contained any. The room was, in fact, appallingly bare of useful items, she discovered, as she made the rounds. The vanity contained a small blunt-toothed comb and a matching hairbrush, a basic set of cosmetics, and a tiny mirror embedded in a thick frame. The wardrobe contained only clothing, although it was clothing of the highest style. A small bookcase held a selection of Wizarding novels of the most lurid sort. The desk was empty except for a stack of parchment and a couple of quills labeled "Keene's Finest Self-Sharpening" along their shafts; the metal inkwell built into the desk had a small amount of ink in the bottom.

That was something, at least--writing materials. Little good it did her, however, without an owl. A smallish owl might even fit through the bars on the window, if she'd had one she could call to her. But she didn't. So that was that.

Wait...could Severus possibly send her an owl, one of the school's? Not that he would have any idea whether she was in a situation where she could receive an owl privately. And, Sarah remembered abruptly, there was Umbridge's post-screening system. It could take a letter days to get in or out of Hogwarts. Damn! In a fit of pique, Sarah swept the stack of parchments off the desktop. She watched the sheets slide across each other as they poured off the edge of the desk...and realized something that made her heart leap in the first real hope she'd had since the Portkey had snatched her away.

Tucked down in a corner of her school bag was the bottle of ink she had made with Severus months and months ago. And tucked between the pages of her Astronomy text was the cheap, flowery bookmark.

Franklin had taken her bag away when he had left her to Bella's tender mercies. Now she had to find some way to get it back.

* * *

Sarah followed Gurgy into the dining room with a better will that she had expected to have. Her aunt and uncle were already there, as was Bellatrix. To her surprise, her oldest cousin was present as well, grown into a slightly more solid version of his father. A timid-looking young woman with dull blonde hair sat next to him. Her cousin Hannibal was missing. As was her cousin Theodore. Would it even occur to Umbridge that the boy should have gone home as well, if Sarah was supposed to be attending his mother's birthday celebration?

Franklin rose and pulled out the empty seat at his right for her. As she sat down, he said, "You won't have read the notice, perhaps. Chester was married last year. This is Niniane."

The girl nodded at Sarah, across the table, with just the hint of a smile touching her lips.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Niniane," Sarah said, smiling slightly in return. She wished she hadn't. The girl's eyes lit up with a kind of desperate hope, as if she hoped for a friend...or, more likely, a rescuer. I can't save you, Sarah replied to those eyes; I can't even save myself.

Fiona spoke up, a sour look down her nose at Sarah suggesting that she approved of her daughter-in-law in ways that she would never approve of her niece. "Niniane is the granddaughter of Bellatrix's aunt, Cassiopeia Black Penhallow."

So, that was the connection. Not that there wasn't always apt to be one, among the old families. But it made Bella's entrée into Franklin's plot less unlikely than Sarah had thought.

Food appeared on their plates, wine in their glasses.

"Excuse me," Sarah said distinctly, as the others lifted their silverware. "I'm afraid, Uncle Franklin, that I don't quite trust you."

"What are you talking about?" Franklin growled, lowering the spoon he was about to plunge into his soup.

"Perhaps you wouldn't do anything to try to hurt me," Sarah said. "But are you quite sure that Aunt Fiona feels the same?" She sent a sweetly poisonous look toward her aunt, at the other end of the table. "I know I would feel better if, for instance, I were to trade plates with her."

Chester snorted faintly, surprising Sarah with a hint of humor, as everyone at the table turned to Fiona. The woman opened and shut her mouth, as if she did not know what to say. Finally, her expression hardening, she summoned a pair of house-elves. "I don't know how you can believe such things of your own father's sister," Fiona said, sounding as if she were deeply hurt. "Or why you would make such a ridiculous request. But I suppose I'll have to humor you." She gave a terse order, and the house-elves exchanged their soup plates.

"Oh," Sarah added, when it seemed the house-elves were about to be dismissed. "I would also feel better if I were to trade glasses with Bellatrix."

"What is the meaning of this stupid game?" Fiona snapped. But Bella was laughing in apparent pleasure.

"You can hardly blame her, Fiona." The female Death Eater gestured for a house-elf to do as Sarah had asked. "Do warn me," Bella added, as the glasses were exchanged, "if I'm about to drink something hazardous to my health. I imagine you'd be rather sorry if I suffered anything untoward." The cold edge on her voice left no doubt that she was making a threat.

Fiona said nothing, sniffing her offense at the suggestion.

Niniane was watching Sarah with wide eyes. Sarah picked up her new glass. "Simply a matter of good faith," she remarked to the girl. But she had to conceal a shudder as she swallowed, hoping that her request had not been anticipated somehow. It was always possible that Fiona might have added something to all the wine...something that would only affect a pregnant woman. But Niniane's presence made that less likely--risking their eldest son's heir (assuming the possibility of pregnancy) for the sake of damaging her niece's child was a poor exchange--and Sarah favored the baffled girl with a small, genuine grin.

One small step managed: she wouldn't starve...at least not tonight. The rest was going to be more difficult to pull off, and Sarah tried to steady her nerves as she finished her soup in the uncomfortable silence which followed her first performance.

"I'm rather surprised to see that my proposed fiancé isn't here," she commented, as the soup plates vanished. Indeed, Hannibal's absence rather suggested that he was not in on his parents' plot, meaning they feared he might be as recalcitrant as his intended bride. Sarah had hoped to see her uncle squirm, and she was not disappointed.

"Have you decided to cooperate, then?" Franklin asked gruffly.

Sarah allowed the pause before she spoke to lengthen discomfitingly. "I am still thinking about it," she said, finally, when she thought she could trust her voice. "Certain things concern me."

"Such as?" Franklin said. The next course appeared, and he raised his fork.

"What are you willing to give in return if I agree?"

There was a clatter from the other end of the table as Fiona dropped some piece of silverware onto her plate. "Your place is to obey, not to make demands!"

"If my father were alive," Sarah said, "I would agree with you. But he isn't. I am responsible for myself now. If I don't look out for my best interests, who else will? Obviously not you."

Bella laughed. Sarah was growing to hate that laugh. How could she agree to place herself in a position where she could never again escape it?

"She can hardly want very much," Franklin said to his wife. He turned to his niece. "Well, what is it you're asking for?"

"Well, first," Sarah said, turning her wineglass in her hands, studying it, trying to keep it from shaking. "Obviously the wedding cannot take place before October." Let them think she was not as far along as she truly was.

"The wedding need not take place for several years," Bella said sharply.

"Perhaps she's decided to bargain with us instead of you," Fiona said, a smug expression stealing over her face.

"I'm thinking about all my options," Sarah said. She met Bella's surprised and angry look as firmly as she could. She wasn't sure if Bella knew Legilimency, but she used Occlumency all the same to project the image of a savvy girl taking stock of everything she might get from this situation. A girl who might listen if Bella upped her offer in some way. The slightly disconcerted flicker in the woman's eyes suggested that Bella did not have much more to bargain with than she had already lain on the table.

Good.

"Obviously the wedding would have to wait until...certain things are resolved," Franklin said. As if Chester and Niniane hadn't seen her condition when she came to the table!

"In the meanwhile," Sarah pressed onward, "I'll have certain...needs."

Franklin raised his eyebrows, and a quick glance at Fiona revealed that the woman had turned a bit green. Bella, predictably, snorted. So, let them think for a minute that she was talking about Severus.

"Are you suggesting that I leave you to your own devices until that time?" Franklin asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

"Yes, among other things," Sarah said.

"Which would be?"

Sarah took a deep breath. "Thanks to you, I have no money."

"What are you talking about?" Franklin interrupted. "Unless the Plattuses are worse spendthrifts than I ever imagined, you should have a significant sum remaining to you from the sale of the Hall."

"A sum that is not," Sarah said, "under my control at the present. When my loyalties became known to my other aunt--who was appointed my guardian, you'll recall, without any protest from you--she cut me off."

"All the more reason that you should remain here," Fiona put in.

"I will not remain here," Sarah said, feeling her anger rise and seep into her words. "If I marry Hannibal, I will go back to my home at Darkglass Hall. But I will not spend a single night more than I must under this roof, Aunt Fiona!"

"You want money," Franklin said. "How much?"

"A thousand Galleons should see me through the summer."

"A thou--" Fiona began to protest.

"Be still," Franklin ordered. He turned back to Sarah. "A thousand Galleons. What else?"

Be careful, Sarah. Oh so careful.

"I've worked too long and too hard to give up on my N.E.W.T.s now. I need to study this weekend, and I need to return to school."

"You hardly need--" Fiona began again, but once more Franklin cut her off.

"You will not leave here until you agree to cooperate," he told Sarah bluntly.

"I'm aware of that," Sarah said. Her voice quavered. "And I intend to give you an answer before Sunday evening. But I need time to consider my options. And worrying that I will do poorly on my N.E.W.T.s because I haven't studied is not something that will help me to think clearly about where my best interests lie."

Silence, then. Not a heavy silence. Not even really a puzzled silence. Franklin looked thoughtful as he tucked into his forgotten food. No one had eaten much, except for Chester. The expression on his face said clearly that he was glad Sarah was not his problem.

The next course appeared, and Sarah demanded (and got) another change of plates, this time with Niniane, who reacted to the switch with sufficient alarm that Sarah felt a twinge of guilt; the girl put her fork aside and would not eat, although Chester coaxed her mildly.

"She wants something from her bag," Bella announced abruptly. When Sarah looked up, she met triumphant eyes.

"I want my books," Sarah hissed. Although if Franklin or Fiona insisted on giving her only her books, all this effort would have been for nothing.

"Bring me her school bag," Fiona commanded, and one of the ubiquitous but unseen house-elves obeyed within seconds. Fiona dumped out the contents unceremoniously on the floor, and began feeling at the seams, as if Sarah had hidden a whole slew of escape equipment there, in anticipation of being kidnapped.

"Did you have to interrupt dinner, Fiona?" Franklin sighed.

"Did you bother to examine it before?" Fiona replied testily. "There could have been something in here the whole time to allow him to track her here."

"It isn't as if Severus wouldn't be able to figure out where she is," Bella pointed out. "If he even realizes she's gone yet."

Fiona, disgusted at her failure to find anything untoward about the bag itself, bent down and began sorting through the items that had fallen out. Sarah concentrated on her food, trying hard not to take too much notice of what Fiona was doing. There should be nothing there to excite suspicion: a standard collection of Potions supplies, textbooks on her subjects, pieces of parchment, quills and two bottles of ink. No extra wand. No Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. No Portkeys (except for the one hanging hidden around her neck, which she could not use).

"What is it you wanted?!" Fiona asked shrilly.

"I want," Sarah said tightly, "my things so I can study."

"Don't give her back the Potions materials," Bella said. "If she's as bright as Severus says she is, she could manage something, even if it's only her standard kit. And be sure that's ink," she added.

It took every bit of Occlumency training, every shred of will she possessed for Sarah to go on eating unconcernedly while Fiona uncorked each bottle, sniffed it, and drew a flourish across a scrap of parchment using one of Sarah's quills. One black, one green. Nothing unusual. A lot of girls carried three or four different colors. Sarah had even seen hot pink, which glowed in the dark and smelled like candy floss.

"Let me," Bella said, frowning as her prediction of Sarah's duplicity was proven false.

Fiona passed the bottles along, her expression wavering between continued suspicion and smug delight at Bella's mistake. "I don't suppose ink is likely to be poisonous, is it?"

"Not particularly." Bella took one and held it up to the light.

"Could she have Transfigured something?" Chester suggested. "Maybe one of those quills is really a broom." There was the slightest edge in his voice that hinted he was not serious, but it was only by looking at him and seeing a revealing twinkle in his eye that Sarah could tell he was poking a bit of fun at his mother.

Fiona did not notice that he was mocking her; she looked rather alarmed at the possibility he had brought up. She drew her wand and tapped each of the quills, the parchment, and then the bag itself, hissing, "Specialis revelio!"

If she checks the books, or--heaven forbid--the ink....

"Fiona, she had no time to prepare anything in advance," Franklin said wearily. "She was entirely surprised by my appearance, and she resisted sufficiently that I have no doubt she believed there would be no hope of escape or rescue."

Bella, having finished her inspection of the ink, shook her head and handed it back to her hostess.

Fiona sniffed. "I still see no reason we should take the risk of giving in to her request."

"If you don't allow me to study," Sarah said, taking a final risk of her own in desperation, "then I'll have to conclude that Bella may have more to offer me than you're willing to."

Fiona's face immediately registered her dismay.

"The house is well-warded," Franklin pointed. "And the house-elves will warn us if she attempts anything. Let her have her books."

"Thank you, Uncle Franklin," Sarah said, mustering all the grace she could manage. She glanced around the table. Fiona was, as usual, displeased. Chester continued to register faint amusement, while Niniane looked vaguely concerned, as if she, too, had expected Fiona to discover something. Bella, still eying Sarah warily, let a hungry smile crease her lips ever so slightly. Feeling that she needed to keep Bella hopeful, Sarah returned the smile quickly, with the barest of nods.

"Remove all this to her room," Fiona snapped, kicking disdainfully at the scatter of books and papers on the floor beside her. Gurgy appeared, hastily gathered everything back into the bag, and disappeared with it.

"I hope you're satisfied," Fiona said, her tone indicating that she was not.

"Did you not allow Eleanor to get her N.E.W.T.s?" Sarah asked. She wondered vaguely whom her cousin had married and when.

"Fiona?" There was--oddly--something almost soothing in Franklin's voice. "There's no point in preventing her, when she's this close."

Fiona did not answer; she would not even raise her eyes to look at her husband. To Sarah's surprise, even Chester appeared to have sobered. Sarah looked across the table at Niniane; the girl's hazel eyes were wide and troubled.

* * *

The meal was finally over, and Sarah was permitted to excuse herself to go to her books, although both Fiona and Bella still seemed to doubt the wisdom of allowing her to do so. It was only when Sarah had left the dining room and was well on her way back to her gilded prison, with Gurgy shambling mournfully along in the lead, that she allowed herself a deep breath. She had done it. Not without some suspicion arising, but she had done it. Now, if only Severus thought to check....

"Sarah?" a thin voice called behind her. She turned to see Niniane hurrying to catch up with her.

"Yes?" Sarah asked, dismay also overtaking her. Could her aunt have sent Niniane to be a chaperone over her studies?

Niniane did not speak until she was close enough to whisper. "Do you have a way to escape?"

"I'm sorry. I don't," Sarah said. "I wish I did. Do they treat you terribly?"

Niniane shrugged and shook her head at the same time, leaving a good deal of doubt about what she meant. "Do you know that your uncle is a Death Eater?" she asked anxiously, her face going paler than before, making a smattering of freckles stand out across her nose. She must be at least three or four years older, since Sarah didn't remember her particularly from Hogwarts, but right now she seemed nearly as young.

"Yes, I know that," Sarah said, not bothering to feign any concern about the fact.

"He wants Chester to...to do it, too."

"I can't stop my cousin from making his own choices."

"Chester doesn't want to, really," Niniane hurried to explain. "He'd rather wait and see how things turn out. I'm just afraid that...."

Sarah was not sure that she cared, at this point, what Niniane was afraid of, but the girl found her voice and went on.

"I'm afraid of the sort of person he'll become, if he lets his father convince him. Chester's been...well, decent to me...and I don't want that to change."

"What do you expect from me?" Sarah asked, impatiently. "Right now I'm trapped in my uncle's schemes as well."

Niniane's face fell. "I don't know," she confessed. "I thought maybe you could encourage Chester not to give in. Or tell me what to say to him."

"Niniane, I haven't seen Chester in nine years. How would I know what to say? Do you know what it is they want from me?"

"To marry Hannibal. And I wish you would. I'm so lonely here. No one my age ever even comes to visit." The girl's hazel eyes were large as she looked pleadingly at Sarah.

"What about Eleanor?" Sarah asked.

"You don't know?" Niniane asked. "I wondered, when you brought her up at dinner."

"I don't read society news. I just don't." It was too much of a reminder of the life her mother had taken her from. She had never had reason to think she would need to know.

"I don't think it was in the papers," Niniane said. "I think that your uncle kept it quiet."

"What?" It sounded ominous.

"It happened years before I came, but Chester told me. A wizard--a Russian, I think, or something like that--had come to visit on some business or other, and he liked the look of Eleanor. She didn't want to go with him--she wasn't quite finished with school yet--but he was someone important in his own country, and the Notts thought it would be to their advantage and made her go." The girl lowered her voice. "They've never heard from her again. Her husband claims that she ran away from him--he was apparently quite angry about it. But Chester thinks...well...that maybe he killed her." This last was spoken in a whisper, and Niniane frowned anxiously.

Sarah felt more staggered than she would have thought possible, if anyone had told her a few weeks ago that she would be hearing such a tale. Her aunt and uncle had sent their only daughter unwillingly into a tragic marriage--an unwillingness that had likely cost Eleanor her life--and yet they thought nothing of forcing their niece into the same position! No wonder Fiona and Bella had been concerned about potential poisons: they had no way of knowing whether Sarah might follow her mother's example, rather than cooperate with them. Sarah grimaced inwardly. No wonder they wanted to control her every movement!

"Niniane, I can't help you. I'll be lucky if I can help myself. Do you know what your cousin Bellatrix wants from me?" Sarah asked, her voice tightening with frustration...more at her own situation than at the girl, although the girl was awfully easy to take it out on.

Niniane shook her head, looking puzzled.

"She wants me to become a Death Eater," Sarah said. Then, when the girl quailed, she went on flippantly, "Surely you knew that Bellatrix Lestrange was a Death Eater. She went to Azkaban for it."

"You're...you're...not going to...?" Niniane asked, her face a mask of awe and terror.

Sarah didn't know what to say in response to that. Mainly because she didn't know the answer herself. Unable to tolerate this conversation any longer, she turned on her heel and strode away, requiring Gurgy to scramble to catch up with her. As she heard Niniane burst into tears behind her, Sarah felt pain and regret harden into a small, cold knot inside her heart.