By Marie Noire
Chapter Nine : In the Clutches of
the Enemy
Chantal
remained in a bit of a funk for the last few days of classes, before a majority
of the students left for the winter holidays.
She finished grading midterms, turned in the grades to Minerva, and set
about doing absolutely nothing for the next month and a half. After two days of said nothing, she was
getting slightly stir-crazy. She might
have felt compelled to wander Hogwarts grounds and relive cheery nostalgia… but
the very thought of coming up against Severus again kept her confined to her
own quarters. None of her books held
any appeal, not even her much-loved and thoroughly thumbed copy of The Lord
of the Rings held any sway. Music,
while soothing at first, soon lapsed into bitter sweetness… every song seemed
to reflect on something she had done wrong to Severus… or on something that she
would love to say to him.
At last,
she felt the walls pressing in and left.
She not only left her rooms, but the grounds entirely, heading vaguely
for Hogsmeade. She could do some
shopping… Hogsmeade at Christmastime was just what she needed. This was one thing that had absolutely
nothing to do with Snape.
Her
steps left dark imprints in the frosted ground as she made her way into the
village, her crimson cloak dragging behind her lightly. Giving into female whims that transcended
all magic, her first stop was the bakery to buy some chocolate pasties. A craving was a craving, no matter how you
termed it. Chantal’s weakness happened
to be for chocolate in any way, shape, or form. Munching on one contentedly, Chantal exited the shop and
wandered.
There
were few people about… and those that were appeared to be headed for the tavern
in a hurry to warm up from the frosty evening.
As such Hogsmeade was oddly quiet.
Chantal, unnerved by the strange stillness, hastened her steps towards
the centre of the village. The
bookstore… she could go there and hopefully lose herself in some new volume.
As she
rounded a corner, she most certainly lost herself… but not in any way she might
have expected or approved of.
-----
Have
you got something for me, Wormtail?
“Y-yes…
master… something good this time. Been
watching her since term began. No one
pays any mind to a rat you know… that’s why I’m so useful to you… right,
master?” a quivering voice replied, half terrified and half proud.
I
tire of your babbling, Wormtail. Who
have you brought me?
“A… a
professor from Hogwarts, master.
Pureblood… name’s Duquesne… pretty little thing. Went to school with me… was sort of a
chum. Talented lovely too. She’ll serve you well, my lord.”
An
unwilling servant, I see. If that
bruise on her temple is any sign.
Perfect. Well done,
Wormtail. And what of your other
mission?
“He is
hard to see, master. You chose him for
that very reason. But I think that she
will sway him completely.” The voice was more certain now.
Oh? And how is that, my eager servant?
“He
adored her when we were young… he adores her still… he will do anything to keep
her from being unduly harmed.”
Are
you certain of this?
“Absolutely.”
Then
I am pleased, Wormtail… you shall be richly rewarded. Perhaps when she has served my purposes, she will be yours to do
with as you please.
Wormtail
let his gaze slide over Chantal’s prone body greedily, not bothering to
disguise the lust glinting there. “I
live only to serve you, my master… but that would be a welcome reward indeed.”
-----
Severus
wandered through the corridors, his cloak billowing out behind him like some
Muggle’s idea of a romantic vampire.
His step was brisk, angry, and impatient as always… but in place of his
usual dark frown was an even darker scowl.
School had been out for a week and instead of the solitary peace and
quiet he usually divulged in he found himself restless and brooding. Half of him wanted to go find Chantal and
attempt to recapture the familiarity of their youth… the other half wanted to
stalk the grounds endlessly and preserve his foul mood.
Few
students and even fewer teachers remained at Hogwarts, even Potter and Weasley
had left, choosing to spend the holidays with Granger’s family. Dumbledore was about, but was kept busy with
countless owls from the Ministry. Remus
had tried to engage the Potions’ Master in conversation once or twice, but was
promptly shot down by a few growled words.
The school seemed deserted save for the resident ghosts and the prowling
Snape.
Severus
grumbled under his breath as he crossed the main hall and caught sight of Remus
approaching him steadily. However, the
professor’s normally weary, but fairly cheerful face was darkened by the
creasing lines of worry.
“Severus…
a moment, please?” he asked, more demanding than usual.
Severus
paused, his brow furrowed in confusion at Remus’ directness. “What is it?”
“Have
you seen Chantal anywhere? I haven’t
been able to find her for days and I just went to her chambers… all of her
things are in place, but the bed hasn’t been slept in.” Remus explained in a
bit of a rush.
Severus
bit his lip. “I have not seen her… does
Albus know she is missing?”
Remus
shook his head. “No… not yet.”
“Are you
certain she did not just scamper off to France without telling you?” Severus
suggested.
Remus
sighed. “I just told you, all of her
things are still in her room. She would
not leave on a long trip without her wand you know.”
Severus’ breath caught at that bit of information. “Quite true. It would probably be a good idea to talk to
Dumbledore right away then. If she's
left her wand behind then something could be gravely wrong.”
Remus
looked even more worried at Severus’ pessimistic view. “I hate to say it… but I think you’re right.
Last we spoke, she mentioned heading into Hogsmeade
for some Christmas shopping... that was four days ago and I have not seen her
since. It's not like her to disappear.”
In
silence, both men headed back towards the corridor that led to various offices,
including the portrait that currently guarded Dumbledore’s private
chambers. Remus paused, looking to
Severus for the password.
Severus
sighed. “Oddment.”
The
portrait opened respectfully enough, although its occupants, a trio of skinny
witches, mumbled about having their nice tea interrupted. Quickly, Severus and Remus climbed the
narrow, winding staircase that led up into a high tower.
“Have
you any thoughts, Severus?” Remus asked, startled by the wizard’s expression.
“A
few ideas from the past. Whispered
plans. I'm not sure how things have
changed in the time since I came to Hogwarts though… if they've changed at
all.” He replied thickly.
“They?”
Remus repeated, knowing full well what Severus’ vagueness meant. “You think they may have something to
do with it? What would they want with
Chantal? She hasn't a dark bone in her
body!”
“If
it is them… or, more appropriately, Him… then her political
standings do not matter. Power is a
very potent drug and when one as powerful as He is faced with eventual
mortality, what does He do with that great power?”
Remus
considered. “He will pass it on to
someone else? Like a monarch.”
“Exactly. And who would be the perfect person to pass
on His power to?”
“An
heir… but He has no heir!”
“You
are right… He doesn’t… yet.”
“Yet? What do you mean ‘yet’? In His condition, He cannot… cannot…
breed! Can He?”
“Who
can tell? But the question of whether
or not the blood is His may not matter… He has many followers who would be only
too glad to… donate.”
Remus
stopped dead in his tracks. “An heir…
the mother of pure of blood... magically gifted... certainly attractive... and
preferably unwilling... Tally.” Slowly,
his hands balled into fists and a murderous glint came into his eyes. Severus bit back a gasp… the last time he
saw that particular expression on Remus’ face, he was nearly ripped to shreds
by a werewolf. “If that's so... God
help me... I will use this damn curse...”
Severus
raised a hand to still Remus “Calm down.
This is why we need to speak to Albus… he will know better how to
approach the situation. If it comes to
violence, you will not have to face them alone.”
Severus
knocked on the door that awaited them at the top, three staccato raps, and
waited impatiently for an answer. Some
fumbling, as though someone were quickly gathering up papers.
“Enter.”
Dumbledore’s voice called faintly from behind the door. Remus paused, but Severus strode directly
inside.
“Headmaster,
we have a situation-”
“Dumbledore,
something serious may-“
Dumbledore
raised his hands. “Wait, wait… I cannot
listen to both of you at once.”
Remus
plowed ahead first. “Headmaster, we
haven’t seen Professor Duquesne for several days. I became concerned and stopped in her quarters; I found that all
of her belongings are here, her wand included… but she has not been.”
Dumbledore
frowned. “Are you certain you have not
just missed her, Remus?”
Remus
nodded. “Quite, sir. I’ve been asking around and no one has seen
her on school grounds for at least four days.”
Severus
also nodded. “She has not been at any
meals recently either, sir. I noticed,
but thought simply that she and Professor Lupin were dining privately, being
that they are old friends.”
Dumbledore
bit his lip. “Worrisome indeed.”
Severus
continued quietly. “Especially when one
considers the rumors I heard before returning to Hogwarts, sir. I fear that an agent of the Dark Lord may
have kidnapped Professor Duquesne. He
is still mortal… and He is someone who plans for the future.”
Dumbledore
stood, pacing behind his desk in an agitated fashion seldom seen. “I remember all too well, Severus. And I received several owls from the
Ministry that further serve to support your suggestion. It seems that all of our contacts have
suddenly become disturbingly silent.”
Severus
took a deep breath. “Is there any
indication as to why, sir?”
“It
is my thought that they may have been found out by Voldemort and…
eliminated. It is not like any of them
not to send in regular reports… even when there is nothing to report. Last we heard, Voldemort and his followers
were apparently congregating en masse… far east of here.” Dumbledore continued
to pace, almost thinking aloud.
Remus
all but burst. “Then why are we
standing about? We must go after her at
once!”
Severus
pounced upon him first. “Be reasonable,
Remus! If we rush into this, we will
lose and they may rather kill Chantal then let her be rescued! Calm yourself and think clearly.”
“Severus
is right, Remus… discretion is the better part of valor. We do not want Chantal to come to harm
through our mistakes.” Dumbledore sighed.
“Severus, I had hoped I would never have to ask this of you again… yet
it seems I must, for you are Chantal’s only hope if she is with them.”
Severus
stood straighter. “I understand, sir… I
have been mentally preparing myself for it.”
Remus
looked between the two of them, confusion writ on his face.
Dumbledore
continued addressing Severus, as a general to one of his lieutenants. “You think, if I give you what the Ministry
has given me about their supposed whereabouts, that you can find them safely?”
“I
believe so, sir… there are not many places in the east where he can hide
comfortably.” Severus replied, approaching the desk to look over the papers
Dumbledore had there.
“We
have reason to believe that Kabul may be his center of operation for the
moment.” Dumbledore pointed out on a map.
Severus
grimaced slightly. “Him and His blasted
deserts… but if that is the case, I know exactly where to find him.”
Dumbledore
reached across the desk to grasp Severus’ shoulder. “Be very careful, Severus.
Voldemort cannot use her in exactly the way he originally intended… but
his followers can.”
“I
understand, sir. If I have to, I may be
able to use that to my advantage.” Severus nodded grimly.
Dumbledore
kept his fatherly hold. “This, I fear... will be more difficult than any other
mission you have been on, Severus. I
want your strict attention on this. He
may be very cross with you. According
to our sources, you are very near the top of his list. If it looks as though you will not be able
to safely move through His territory, I want you to apparate back here
immediately. Now is not the time to be
proud or timid, understood?”
“Yes,
sir… though I will not like it.”
“I
know you won’t… but I’ll never be able to replace two professors before
the next term starts.” Dumbledore sighed, half seriously and half jokingly.
Severus
gave him a ghost of smile while Remus looked more and more confused.
“Could
someone please explain to me what you’re talking about?” he finally asked in
exasperation.
Dumbledore
sighed. “Remus, what I am about to tell
you is to be kept strictly secret. You
are good at those.”
Remus
nodded, a slight tint to his face.
“Yes, sir.”
“You
recall rumors regarding Professor Snape?
That he was once a servant of the Dark Lord himself?”
Remus
looked down at the carpet in mild shame.
“I do, sir… I’ll admit that before I came here, I was very much
concerned.”
“Well…
they were true to a certain extent.
Severus served under both myself and the Ministry as a double agent,
bringing information back to us on Voldemort’s activities. He was instrumental in many of our efforts
against Him.” Dumbledore explained.
“And now it seems he must do so again.”
Remus
looked at Severus with his jaw slightly agape.
“A double agent? My god…
Severus… you are a braver man than I.”
Severus
shrugged. “I do only what I have to… no
more, no less.”
“There
are many who would not do even that.” Remus insisted. “And… if I haven’t done so previously… I do apologize for what
happened… so… so long ago.”
Severus
stepped back, partially in shock and partially because he did not want Remus to
apologize. He had grown rather
accustomed to the comfortable bitterness that followed him everywhere. “Now is not the time to dredge up ancient
history. I have to get ready. With all due respect, Headmaster… I shall
gather my belongings and be in Kabul by morning.”
Dumbledore
nodded his assent and Severus left him and Remus, closing the door behind him and
leaning against it, letting the shudder that had been threatening pass through
him. Back under Voldemort… he had
hoped, had prayed that it would not come to that. The past summer, he had spent most of his time at the Ministry,
instructing would-be spies on the ins and outs of Voldemort’s fold. Now they were all missing and he was the
only one left.
Once
more to the double life. He hoped he
could pull it off as easily this time as he had before. But now… with Chantal at risk… the stakes
were doubled. Perhaps not on a
political level… but in his heart. The
very idea of Chantal anywhere even close to Voldemort’s clutches made him
physically ill… and if his assumptions were right…
He
shook his head, trying not to picture Chantal beneath any Death-Eater he
knew. Any one of them would be rough,
sadistic… make it as painful as possible without actually damaging what
Voldemort needed most. If he got there
in time, before she had been violated… perhaps he could intervene on her
behalf, make something sound believable.
Whatever
he had to do to save her, he would do it… Dumbledore’s warnings be damned.
Now
he just had to get there.