A Merciless Affection

Obligatory Disclaimer:

There are bigger fish in the sea than me,

So please don't sue for this little spree

Into the world of Ms. JKR;

Such an effort won't take you far.

I'm much too poor to be worth your while,

So please understand as I say with a smile

That all of this is done for enjoyment,

So kick back, read, and find other employment.

A/N: I find it slightly ironic that the last time I took a hiatus (when HBP came out), the story was also at the point of a visit with Voldemort. I hope to be back to writing soon.

I'm very grateful for my many kind reviewers. I value each and every one of you. I also appreciate all of you who take the time to read, whether or not you review. And as usual, I am most grateful to Lady Whitehart and Cecelle, who keep me from doing anything silly (like forgetting whether or not someone is standing up).

Chapter 53: Precious Little Ingénue

She emerged in the parlor. She had not seen this room while she was being held captive, but she recognized it with a sudden shock of forgotten memory: they had always come here through the Floo, when she was little.

Her cousin Chester was standing in the middle of the room, looking expectantly at the fireplace. His expression changed to relief when she appeared.

"Sarah," he said warmly. But there was a hint of fear in his eyes, and his face had lost its accustomed good humor. Sarah had been braced to confront one of the Notts as Aunt Portia's murderer, but she felt now that it could not have been her cousin.

"Chester," she returned. "I'm glad to see you again...under better circumstances." Her mind screamed no, these are not better circumstances! But she silenced those thoughts. Searching for something else to speak of, something Sarah Darkglass Snape would care about, she settled on the very question that she most wanted her cousin to answer. "Have you taken the Mark?"

"I have been given that privilege." But she could tell, from the forced way he said it, that it had been no privilege at all. "After all," he continued, attempting to sound as light as he used to, "with my father in prison, someone in our family must serve in the Dark Lord's cause."

"Of course," Sarah said.

"Are you alright?" he asked; he was studying her tear-stained face.

The Floo whooshed behind her, saving her from having to answer.

"Come, Sarah," Severus said, taking her by the elbow.

Chester, who had gone silent and pale in the other man's presence, led them into the drawing room. It had been made over in much the same way as the room at Darkglass Hall: the walls were heavily draped, and the Dark Lord's throne placed on a dais. This time, however, he was not sitting on it. The snake, Nagini, was curled up there instead, and her master was pacing before the fireplace.

"Ah, Severus," he greeted them. "And my dear Sarah. Leave us, Nott," he snapped at Chester.

The door had clicked shut by the time Sarah had made her proper obeisance. The Dark Lord gestured magnanimously for her to stand. "My loyal servants, I have brought you here for a very special purpose. You are to observe the final end of..." he broke off suddenly, as he looked more carefully at Sarah. At her tear-swollen eyes--she felt him sifting her thoughts--and then further down. "But what is this?"

She had known it was coming, but still she could scarcely breathe. She let her hands clench protectively over her stomach. "What, My Lord?"

"You seem...unusually upset. And...." His red eyes narrowed. He gestured with his wand. Sarah braced herself against the worst, but the spell merely severed the buttons from her robe, and forced her to let it fall open.

"What have we here?" he asked, and although he spoke lightly, there was a hint of displeasure in every word. He flicked his wand again, and the illusion belt unfastened itself and flew into his hand. He studied it with interest. "Such a fascinating device. But what have you to hide?"

He looked at her, at the bulge of her belly that was now horribly obvious beneath her nightgown.

Sarah, driven more by terror than reason, fell painfully to her knees. "Forgive me, My Lord!" She thought more tears would come, but her eyes were as dry as her mouth.

"You are with child?" the Dark Lord asked icily. He turned his terrible gaze upon Severus. "Yours, of course."

"Yes, Master," Severus said, far more steadily than Sarah could have managed.

There was a long and dreadful silence.

"You were cautioned to the greatest possible discretion, were you not?" the Dark Lord said at last. "I see now that you have risked discovery in the most foolish of ways!"

"No one knows!" Sarah burst out. "The illusion belt--"

"Yes: where did you get this?"

"Severus's aunt is a midwife, My Lord."

His eyes flicked to Severus. Apparently he was satisfied with what he saw there, because he turned back to Sarah.

"And no one at the school was aware of your condition?" He sounded dubious. No--more than dubious; it was as if he already knew. But no, he could not have....

"No one, My Lord," Sarah said, but she heard her voice falter.

Sweet Merlin, what will I do now?

"Curious," the Dark Lord said. "Draco Malfoy reported to me that you had spent several weeks in the infirmary."

Sarah's breath caught. Finally, with every instant of the silence weighing heavier and heavier upon her, she found her voice. "I'm sorry, Master. I was afraid, but I should not have tried to deceive you--I knew you would discover the truth. The nurse did find out my condition. But I lied to her."

"And what lie was this?" the Dark Lord asked, his voice still edged with anger.

"A lie that would please the Muggle-lovers," Sarah said. "I told them the father of the child was a Muggle from my village. That I had slept with him over Christmas."

"And you were not expelled for this?"

"It was too near the end of the year. My Head of House took pity on me. Since I had concealed it well from my classmates, no one else need know."

"And what of Dumbledore?" He almost spat the name.

"My Lord," Severus answered for her, "the Headmistress at that time was still Dolores Umbridge. Minerva McGonagall would not have taken such a problem to the woman. As for Dumbledore, he mentioned nothing of it to me when I spoke with him about Sarah's apprenticeship. I feel sure that, if he knew of her condition, he would not have approved her continuing at Hogwarts."

"I see." The Dark Lord turned and paced deliberately toward his throne. Nagini vacated the seat, slithering down to curl around the great chair's legs, and her master seated himself. With that one motion, the sense of being welcomed as his favorites was gone altogether. "I am disappointed that you would take such an immense risk. Why would you permit such a thing, Severus? With potions at your disposal that could have removed the problem?"

Sarah had found it necessary to shift awkwardly around on her knees to remain facing the Dark Lord. She was further from him now, but somehow that did not make her feel any safer. Almost the opposite, in fact--as if he were more likely to send a curse at her if she were far enough away to be dismissed out of hand. But in spite of that, in spite of Severus's injunction that she allow him to draw all the blame onto himself, she could not keep herself from speaking.

"I deceived him, Master," she said. Both their eyes turned to her. "I concealed it from him until it was too late to do away with it safely."

"And why would you do such a thing?" the Dark Lord asked, in irritation.

The answer burst from her. "Because I wanted my father's family to have a male heir."

"And you considered Severus Snape worthy of engendering the Darkglass heir?" The question was clearly mocking, but there was only one possible answer.

"Yes, My Lord."

To her surprise, this response seemed to please the Dark Lord. "Severus Snape has proved himself more worthy of my trust than many others. Your ability to perceive his value does you credit. However," he went on more harshly, "that is no excuse for your thoughtlessness!"

Sarah cowered, certain that at any moment she would be hit with the Cruciatus Curse.

"My Lord," Severus said quickly. "The girl takes too much blame to herself. I knew she might conceive. I wished it. I wished to bind her to me with stronger ties."

An eerie, humorless chuckle reverberated through the room. "And you have succeeded. Oh, I have already taken note of your rings, Severus." All traces of amusement faded. "At least you have not abandoned her to ignominy, to bear her child alone and friendless. But to do all this, to marry her without my permission.... No, Severus, you ought to have realized that was unwise. Surely I made it perfectly clear, when she was presented, that I would stand in the stead of her father?"

"You did, My Lord." Severus bowed deeply. "But you should know, My Lord, that others were plotting to do the same. Franklin Nott and Bellatrix Lestrange had agreed together to force Sarah to secretly wed Nott's second son. Only Nott's abysmal failure at the Ministry, as well as my own interference, prevented them from carrying out their plan."

The Dark Lord's frown had deepened while Severus spoke. Now he said, "That may be. But you succeeded where they did not. And I have not heard that she resisted either your attentions or your decision to marry her without my consent. Did you raise any such objection, Sarah? Did you even recall that you were to look upon me as a father?"

Sarah let her head sag, bowing as far over her knees as she could manage. Of all her fears, she had truly not given much thought to the possibility that this, of all things, would anger him most. "Forgive me, My Lord. I had forgotten. I have been so long without a father. I had become accustomed to fending for myself. And when Severus began...." She stopped herself short, realizing that she was about to cast blame on him.

"You looked to Severus for guidance, I see. I regret that you did not think to turn to me. Although, I admit, that is perhaps understandable, since you had no ability to seek out my consent independently."

"I take all the fault to myself, My Lord." Severus drew his attention back. "I have manipulated the girl to my own ends from the beginning."

"She is too easy to manipulate," the Dark Lord answered. "I see now that she is truly not suited to the Inner Circle, regardless of her wishes."

Sarah's heart lifted so suddenly that, despite the fact that her eyes were still downcast, she hurried to cover the rush of feeling with a moan. "I am sorry, My Lord."

"And this child--it will be born soon?"

"Before school resumes," Severus answered. "I have given considerable thought to this, My Lord."

"The child must be fostered, of course." In spite of his displeasure, a note of satisfaction crept into the Dark Lord's voice: he had lost a degree of control over Sarah, but he could still exert his will upon her child. "I must ponder this matter."

He went silent again then, stroking Nagini's head. Sarah felt her terror growing, tangling her thoughts in desperate knots. Would he even give them the opportunity to suggest a guardian for their child? Or would he make the decision peremptorily, upon his own whim? It was unwise to speak, but as the minutes passed, she found it harder and harder to restrain herself. She looked to Severus, and his taut expression warned her that she must not risk angering the Dark Lord further. She drew a slightly louder breath than she intended, as she felt tears coming.

The red eyes of the being on the throne touched her sharply, then went to Severus. "You have already made provisions, have you not, Severus? Since you have given this difficulty such...considerable thought?" The words were mocking. Was the question a trap? Did he intend to decide against their wishes, whatever they might be, merely to punish them?

Severus spoke carefully. "My family is willing to care for the child."

"But your uncle renounced you long ago, did he not? Or has my return given him cause to alter his affections?"

"He has two daughters, my cousins, both married. Either is willing to take in the child."

"Knockturn Alley," the Dark Lord murmured low. "Many of the inhabitants are devoted to me. And yet I know so few of them personally now. Your cousins I know not at all. No, I think I would prefer a guardian more familiar to me. One whose faithfulness I can be assured of."

There was no mistaking his meaning. What Severus had long since warned her of had come to pass: their son was to be held hostage for their good behavior.

"Yes, I see a solution now. Your cousin, Sarah. Your cousin Chester Nott and his wife have no child of their own as yet. You agree, do you not, that they would prove to be devoted guardians?"

"Please, My Lord," Sarah gasped, trying to control her rising panic. "My Aunt Fiona has already threatened to kill my child. I fear for him to be kept here at Notting Chase."

"Then others do know of this?" the Dark Lord said, his anger renewed.

"Only my uncle's family. And Bellatrix Lestrange. They kidnapped me and brought me here, to try to force me to marry my cousin Hannibal. Fiona was furious when she found that I was carrying a child--they knew it must be Severus's. It was because of their treatment of me that I was sent to the infirmary." Sarah felt regretful that she might be implicating Chester and Niniane with the others; but if that meant that Severian could remain in Knockturn Alley.... No--her heart sank--the Dark Lord would probably just name another guardian of whose loyalty he could be assured.

"Nott!" the Dark Lord called sharply.

Chester, who must have been lurking in the next room, opened the door, his face anxious. "Yes, Master?"

"Bring your mother to me!"

The man blanched, and his mouth worked for a moment before he managed to say, "Yes, Master." He retreated quickly.

"Is no one capable of following my instructions?!" The Dark Lord struck the arm of the throne, and Nagini slithered away toward the hearth. "My orders were clear enough. And yet all of my servants seem to have conspired to disregard my wishes, to risk my plans with their meddling! Even you, Sarah, in whom I had such hopes."

Sarah cowered more deeply again, but this time it seemed to anger him more. "Stand up, girl! I do not want you groveling on the floor when your aunt arrives."

This injunction promised nothing good for Fiona Nott. Sarah struggled to rise to her feet. Severus, after a moment's hesitation and a glance at their Dark master, came to her assistance.

"All of you disappoint me," the Dark Lord went on, in an aggrieved tone. "But I will allow the two of you to redeem yourselves. There is a task--the task concerning which I brought you here to be instructed. I fear greatly that the boy I have assigned to carry it out will prove to be as great a fool as his father. You will be responsible for seeing that this task is completed."

"Of course, My Lord," Severus said smoothly. Sarah murmured her willingness a moment later, her eyes lowered to hide how deeply this directive troubled her. Draco had been assigned to do something that (if Narcissa's comment could be taken literally) even the Dark Lord had not succeeded at. And now she and Severus were expected to back him up.

"This task is to remain entirely secret. You will speak of it to no one--even to others of my Death Eaters, Severus. Yes, you will exercise far greater care with my secret than you have with your own."

"Yes, My Lord," Sarah answered, conscious of his continued displeasure, his lack of faith in her. Tears sprang to her eyes, burning damply.

"If no one else knows of this task," Severus said cautiously, "there should be no difficulty."

"Bellatrix knows of it," the Dark Lord said, as if the words tasted less sweet in his mouth than he had expected. "And her sister, the boy's mother. I see now that it was perhaps unwise to allow even my dear Bella to know this secret. She is too driven by her zeal; she often mistakes her intentions for my own."

A smirk twisted Sarah's lips slightly before she could hide it. Despite the Dark Lord's displeasure with Bellatrix, she had been a favorite so long that it might not please him that others would delight in her downfall. In truth, it troubled Sarah that she was so very glad to find that Bella's star was dimming, that the woman might soon be writhing on this floor, trying to make her own excuses. But Sarah had suffered too much grief these last few months on account of Bella's plotting and interference.

"Then, the boy is Draco Malfoy?" Severus asked.

"Yes. You approve of my selection, do you not, Severus? I believe the boy was, until recently, a favorite of yours."

"He has been an excellent pupil." Severus paused. "As you have not yet revealed the task you have assigned him, My Lord, I can hardly give an accurate evaluation."

"Ah, yes. The task." The Dark Lord was smirking noticeably. "Perhaps I should have given you the assignment long ago, Severus. But it has lately come to my remembrance that my primary opponent is not Harry Potter--oh yes, the boy will be dealt with, in time--but no, before young Harry even existed, there was another who stood at the head of those who would resist Lord Voldemort's rule. He stands there to this day, although he attempts to conceal himself in Harry's shadow. But it is he who most protects the boy, it is he who leads the filthy rebels, it is he who thwarts me, time and again.

"I cannot reach him myself, of course, buried as he remains behind the wards of the school. But someone within those walls might catch him unawares. Unsuspecting. Unprotected. Even a child might manage it, do you not think?" The Dark Lord watched Severus expectantly, almost eagerly.

"The man is formidable," Severus said.

Sarah was not sure how he managed to sound so calm and thoughtful. It was Albus Dumbledore whom Draco was meant to kill! Who they were meant to make sure was killed.... She had to force her shock into the hidden part of her mind, replacing it with the uncertainty that anyone would feel at being asked to destroy so powerful a wizard.

Severus went on, "Even caught unawares, it may be difficult to kill him."

"And yet you informed me that he is weakened. Injured. That his reflexes have become slower than they were."

"True," Severus conceded placatingly. "Perhaps the boy will find a way to manage it. I assume you have given him instructions?"

"I have not," the Dark Lord snapped. "Young Malfoy must prove his own worth, if he is to repay his family's debt to me. You are not to interfere, Severus, except as a last resort. If the boy succeeds on his own, you will be able to remain at Hogwarts. It will be simple enough, after that, to remove Minerva McGonagall. The way will be clear for you to take over as Headmaster."

Sweet Merlin! Could Severus resist such a temptation? Sarah's heart dropped into her stomach, where Severian chose that moment to pummel it.

"That is, as you know, my desire, My Lord," Severus said, something near a true smile upon his face.

Sarah clung to her outward persona fiercely, looking at Severus with pride, while in the back of her mind, traitorous thoughts kept bubbling up. If the Dark Lord wins, Severus will already have everything he wants. Are you sure, after all, that you can live with that? Her words to Bella haunted her: If I doubt his loyalty, I will kill him myself. Once, it had not mattered to her whether her lover was a Death Eater in truth or not. At what point had that changed? And what would she choose now? Dumbledore's side? Or Severus's, whichever that was in the end?

"You know that I reward faithful service, Severus. And Sarah, you will find that I can be generous indeed to those who prove their usefulness."

"Yes, Master," she said, bowing her head again. Although there had been no obvious word about Severian, Sarah could sense that he was offering her the chance to regain control of her child. Is that how he wins followers? By promising them whatever it is they want most? A pang of self-loathing went through her, as she realized how truly tempting his offer might become.

"I will rely..." The Dark Lord broke off as a tentative knock sounded on the door. "Enter!"

It was Fiona Nott, escorted closely by her eldest son, as if he feared she might flee rather than obey this summons. She looked capable of doing so, her hands shaking noticeably, although she rubbed them together, trying to still or hide it. But she had been a Death Eater's wife for a very long time, and she came forward and knelt to kiss the hem of the Dark Lord's robe with a practiced grace. Her expression, as she gazed up at her Master, waiting for him to signal her to arise, was more confident, as if she had pulled herself together.

But the Dark Lord did not permit her to rise. "I have heard interesting things about your treatment of your niece, Lady Nott."

Sarah could not see her aunt's eyes, focused as they were on the Dark Lord, but a jolt seemed to go through Fiona. "The girl has always disliked me, in spite of my efforts to win her affection. Please, My Lord, do not judge me on the basis of her report!"

"Then you deny she was kidnapped and brought here? That she was made so ill that she spent weeks in the infirmary upon her return to school?"

"She was well enough when she left here!" Fiona protested. "As for kidnapping her, that was Franklin's idea, not mine. He and...." she broke off.

"And who?" the Dark Lord demanded.

"And...and Bellatrix, Master. I know you can see that is the truth!" Obviously Fiona, too, was aware of how high the female Death Eater stood in the Dark Lord's affections.

"Yes, I see. I do not blame you for her actions; I am not so unjust." He sounded mildly offended, as if she had wounded his feelings. "And yet I also have heard that you threatened the child your niece carries."

Fiona's eyes swung around to take in Sarah. When she saw the girl's pregnancy clearly revealed, her face became a contorted mixture of triumph, loathing and sudden anxiety. She looked quickly back to the Dark Lord.

"Surely, My Lord, you cannot approve of what she has done? I was thinking of my family's name!"

"And it did not occur to you that, regardless of who fathered him, the child is the grandson of Malcolm Darkglass?"

Fiona's mouth worked, but no words came out. Finally she said, "But...but...Snape is...."

"Severus Snape has served me well. Your husband's family, on the other hand...." The Dark Lord trailed off meaningfully, and Fiona cringed. "You see, Lady Nott, I am allowing for the possibility that your son Chester will serve me with the devotion of his mother's family. That is why I am permitting him to act, for the time being, as guardian to Sarah's child while she completes her apprenticeship. You must agree that the boy ought to be raised here," he gestured, suggesting the opulence of the room, "in an atmosphere befitting a son of the Darkglass line."

Fiona stared at him like a rabbit suddenly cornered by a wolf.

He drew his wand from a fold of his robes. "But Sarah has pleaded with me that her child will not be safe under this roof. A regrettable difficulty. I see only one way to reassure her. You must offer her certainty of her child's protection here."

"Well...well...of course," Fiona stammered. Clearly she had figured out which way the wind was blowing. But there was no note of truth in her words. She was saying what must be said to please her fearsome guest. "Naturally I would welcome my brother's grandchild into my home."

"You must convince Sarah," the Dark Lord said, and the pleasure he was taking in manipulating the woman, making her dance to his tune like a marionette on strings, was all too evident. "Sarah, you do not believe her yet, I see."

Sarah had not been hiding her feelings about her aunt. There was no reason to. But now she sensed that Fiona was being driven in a direction that boded only humiliation, if not worse. And as much as she disliked the woman, as often as she had entertained the possibility that Fiona was somehow guilty of Portia's murder, seeing her now, rigid with pride in the family whose blood they both shared, Sarah felt a surprising disinclination to participate in making the woman suffer at the Dark Lord's hands.

And yet...she did not trust Fiona. Not with Severus Snape's son. Sarah wavered.

The Dark Lord seemed to take her silence for agreement. No doubt he would have manipulated whatever response she made into an agreement with his plans. And now he sprang the trap upon Fiona Nott.

"Yes, I suppose the only way to convince your niece is for you to swear an Unbreakable Vow."

Fiona startled. So did Sarah, although from long practice, she suppressed it better. Fiona turned to stare again at her niece, real terror bleeding into her look of hatred. She knew she had treated the girl too poorly to be able to expect mercy from her. Her eyes swung back to the man on the throne. "P...please, My Lord!"

"I myself will act as Bonder," the Dark Lord went on inexorably. "Sarah, will you kneel?" It was framed as an invitation, but one that could not be refused. She had no choice. Or so she kept telling herself as she tried to lower herself more carefully onto her already tender knees. She shot a glance at Severus, unlikely as it was that he could stop any of this from happening. But there was a glint of triumph in his eyes; he clearly had no compunctions about enjoying Fiona's utter defeat.

"Join hands," the Dark Lord instructed.

Awkwardly, neither really wanting to touch the other, Sarah and Fiona managed to link their right hands in a horrible travesty of a handshake. Sarah, disgusted as she was at the touch of her aunt's cold fingers, could feel them trembling. Fiona's eyes widened as she met Sarah's gaze; seemingly she was torn between her dislike of her niece and the demands of her fear. But when the Dark Lord stepped down from the dais and laid the tip of his wand across their joined hands, Fiona's face hardened: pride appeared to have won out over the impulse to beg this despised girl for mercy. Sarah was almost grateful for that. It made what she had to do easier.

"Well, Sarah, ask her what you will to assure the safety of your child." The mocking tone seemed to steal away the resolve she had just gained. She felt Severian shift slightly. He will live in this house--there is nothing I can do to prevent that now. I have to do something to protect him.

"Will you, Fiona Darkglass Nott, promise to treat my son as if he were your own grandchild? As if he were truly Chester and Niniane's son?" Sarah asked shakily.

Fiona had no choice either. If she refused, the Dark Lord would punish her. Crucio, at the very least; but with Franklin in prison, the Dark Lord might even decide that she was too much trouble to bother with, a rebellious influence on her son. Facing the possibility of death whichever way she turned, Fiona could only say one thing.

"I will." Her hatred of Sarah had not lessened--that much was clear in her voice.

A red strand of fire shot from the Dark Lord's wand and encircled their hands.

"Will you protect him from all harm as carefully as you would protect your own life?" It was a much more brutal request, but Sarah feared now that Fiona would somehow try to twist her words.

Fiona hesitated, then took a shuddering breath before she whispered, "I will." When the second thread of fire wound itself around the first, Fiona gasped, her hand tightening as if in pain.

A Vow required three parts, according to every story Sarah had ever heard or read, and her thoughts fumbled about inside her head, seeking something else she could ask. The chief danger to Severian, it seemed, was Fiona's disgust at his father's low birth. She tried to frame a request that would address that problem. But it seemed impossible to control the woman's very thoughts and feelings. Or at least immoral: it would seem far too much like using the Imperius Curse to try. Realizing that the Dark Lord was waiting, that Fiona was waiting, as triumphant at any small difficulty she was giving Sarah as she was terrified at what the girl might ask next, Sarah began to speak.

"Will you...will you...behave...I mean...treat him, in every respect, as...as if you accept him as my father's heir, regardless of the...the circumstances of his birth?"

It was a rather miserable finish. But from the way Fiona's nose wrinkled up, she did not like being forced to promise it.

"I will," she ground out. A third flaming strand shot around the other two, binding their hands in a rope of fire. Fiona cried out this time. Her undisguised unwillingness to make these promises was causing her to suffer painful effects as the spell was completed. If she acted in any way contrary to the terms she had sworn, she would die. Sarah found her own eyes burning again with tears.

The fire flared in an expanding circle and dispersed. Their hands fell away from each other almost instantly.

"There," the Dark Lord said, pleased at what he had wrought. "You are content now, Sarah, are you not?"

"Yes, Master," she said, keeping her eyes down to avoid showing that she was anything but content.

"You are dismissed," he snapped at Fiona. "Get out of my sight!"

The mistress of the house stumbled to her feet and left the room, walking a bit too fast for the dignity she was trying to preserve. In turning to watch her go, Sarah realized that Chester was still in the room; he had been watching all this silently from the back. The look on his face was as fixedly cold as any expression Severus might have worn. Sarah wondered, with a pang, if her cousin would blame her for what had happened to his mother. If he would, in turn, take that out on Severian. She looked desperately again at Severus, and this time he seemed to perceive her distress. But she saw, too, that for the moment, there was nothing he could do.

"Now, Severus, you may take your...wife," the word sounded as if it tasted vaguely unpleasant, "home. You are to bring her child here to Notting Chase before the beginning of the term. And you will follow my instructions regarding...ah, this school year...just as precisely, if you wish to remain in my favor." The red eyes raked over them, touching especially on Sarah's burgeoning abdomen, and although he had put his wand away again, his control over them was made perfectly clear.

"I shall do all in my power to serve you well, My Lord," Severus said.

Then, because she knew it would please their Dark master, and because at this moment, that seemed to her more important than anything else in the world, Sarah said, "Thank you, for your care of me, My Lord." Acting on the only impulse she knew she could trust in this situation--the impulse of Malcolm Darkglass's daughter--she reached up to take his hand.

It was not as cold as she expected. But there was a sensation, not on the smooth, paper-white surface, but just underneath, of the subtle, shifting scales of a snake. Gripping it harder to prevent herself from letting go, trying to use sheer pressure to dull her ability to feel that texture, she brought the hand to her lips. Hunched up in the back of her mind, she felt as if she might be sick.

"My dear Sarah," the Dark Lord murmured. He stroked her hair with his free hand. "I see that you, of all people, wish most to please me. I will forgive your error in yielding to Severus. You are, after all, very young."

"I shall look upon you as a father after this." The words spilled out in place of the screams that were clenched tight in her stomach.

"Yes. Yes, now," he raised her to her feet, "you must return with Severus." Whether he was weary of their presence, or was expecting other callers, or for some other unknown reason, he sounded slightly agitated. "You may go."

Chester saw them back into the parlor, his expression still frozen. Too dazed to know how to speak to him now, Sarah allowed Severus to lead her to the fireplace.

* * *

Back in the flat, Sarah muffled her pent-up shrieks of horror against his chest, as she tore madly at her own hair, trying to rid herself of the Dark Lord's touch.

"Hush, Sarah!" Severus began stroking her hair himself. She began spitting ineffectually (her mouth had gone so dry again) through her pursed lips, trying to cleanse them. Her fingers twitched, and she pressed them against the sweet, rough wool of his robes.

She began to cry then. For her cousin, forced to become a Death Eater. For Severian, soon to be taken from her. Even for her aunt, bound perilously to her promises. Most of all, she wept for her own guilt at having taken part--for the first time, but undoubtedly not for the last--in the Dark Lord's cruel acts. She wept until she could scarcely breathe. She wept for a long time, until the palpable memory of that horrible touch had faded, and she felt only Severus's hand on her hair.

Some of the individual Silencing spells must have begun to fade, because Sarah heard voices in the next flat, muffled but understandable in the silent dark of the middle night, with none of the other usual sounds to obscure the words.

"She stop cryin' yet?" asked one voice.

"Yeah, think she has." It was difficult to tell if the speakers were men or women.

"Must not ha' been prepared for that, poor girl."

Then the Silencing spell on the outside wall failed, and the sounds of the partying still going on down on the street welled up to greet the newlyweds.

A/N: Please stay tuned. :~)