Villain of the Piece
Part 3 Waiting Games
- Chapter 40 -
Chapter 40: Guinea
Pigs 25th to As he feared he was summoned back a week later for the
testing. “I won’t know the people concerned” he whispered comfortingly. “They won’t mean anything to me. All that I’ll know is whether my brews have
worked, and that is all I ever want to know.” But in his heart of hearts he feared he might be confronted
by a familiar face. The wizarding world
is small, and even if he didn’t know the people directly, some might be
relatives of people from his schooldays.
James Potter, he thought delightedly in a moment of wild wickedness;
what a stroke of luck that would be!
Please let James and Sirius be here; then my life will be complete! Although he was summoned to Wiltshire, the Death Eaters didn’t
stay there. They assembled in Lucius’s
main hall and set off again, proceeding in an orderly manner as if they were
used to it. Severus was not told the
destination; he was escorted by side-along Apparition, and arrived clinging to
the arm of Rabastan in the hallway of a large Edwardian house. Lucius stood by the door to the drawing
room. He looked impatient and excited. “Where are we?” Severus asked. “No matter” Lucius whispered. “Come through. And concentrate! No photographs today – no distractions, and
no talking. The Dark Lord is anxious.” Voldemort did look anxious; excited but worried. Obviously a lot was at stake. “Put on your masks” he ordered. “Take your seats. Get ready to observe. This will take some time … Venato? Feodor?
We are ready – bring in numbers one and two.” Glad of the safety of his mask, Severus closed his mind to
the reality of what followed. A
succession of people were presented, and fed with potion. And he knew none of them – witches, wizards,
young, old, fat, thin – it made no difference.
All reacted as expected; all would eventually succumb. “Very good” Voldemort announced and hour later. “This is very much what I had in mind. Have we any more participants?” “Just two more” Venato replied. “You must have emptied Diagon Alley!” “We took a sample of people leaving Gringotts, Lord.” The door opened and Feodor pushed two people into the room. And using his wand like a cattle prod Venato propelled
them forward. The first was another
unknown witch, small and frightened. Following
her was an old man, and as he raised his head a gasp escaped Severus’s lips. “Silence!” Voldemort warned. “Not this man” Severus murmured. “Not this
man, Lord.” The wizard victim stared at him, comprehension growing on
his face, and it suddenly occurred to Severus that, mask or no mask, his
distinctive voice would betray him. The old wizard looked at the potion bottles and then back
to Severus hidden behind the mask. His
gaze bored through the eyeholes. “Why?”
he breathed. He got no answer.
Finally he threw an arm of comfort around the shoulders of his fellow
victim and said nothing more. * Dumbledore was waiting for Severus when he got back to
Hogwarts. Severus declined the
inevitable drink. “I’ll take a sleeping potion” he told the Headmaster. “I’ll be alright for a while, then after this
I’ll go straight into a deep sleep.” “Then tell me you news” Dumbledore said. Severus reported the events as they had unfolded. Finally he got to the last two victims. “It was a young slip of a witch” he said, “And Hilary Caldecott.” “Goodness me!” Dumbledore exclaimed, leaping to his feet. “Could you possibly be wrong?” “No, Headmaster” Severus said gravely. “I’ve known Hilary since my student
days. He even recognised me.” Hastily Dumbledore summoned a house-elf. “Go and see if Mr Caldecott is in his room”
he instructed. “If he is not, ask
Professor McGonagall to come here.
Severus, please wait in the anteroom, but if you wish to listen to what
I say to Minerva, I have no objection.” Severus did listen, feeling he needed every drop of
information. Minerva arrived a few
minutes later and so did the elf, reporting that he had alerted the other
house-elves and so far they could find no trace of Mr Caldecott within the
castle. “Of course he’s here, somewhere” Minerva insisted
crossly. “Sunday night? This late?
Hilary won’t be gadding about, stupid creatures! Why do you need him, Albus? Can I help?” “I simply want to know that he is safe” Dumbledore
explained. “What was he doing
yesterday?” “Yesterday? He went
to “And did he go?” “To “You saw him get
on the bus?” “Yes.” She began to
look troubled. “Are you saying he’s not
come back?” “I fear so” Dumbledore sighed. “Minerva, tomorrow morning, if Hilary cannot
be found, ask Irma if she can do some extra hours.” “Of course, Albus.” “Thank you. That
will be all. Goodnight Minerva.” “Err, Albus” Minerva added, “May I raise something? As we are on the subject of staff cover – the
situation with Severus … I’m getting concerned–” “Not now, Minerva.” “But these absences … they are far more frequent than you
led me to expect–” “Not NOW, Minerva!” “Professor Dumbledore!” she replied warningly, “I will not
be shouted at. What do you think you are
about?” “I’m sorry” Dumbledore said softly, “But I cannot discuss
this now. We are meeting at?” “Two-thirty–” “–Two-thirty. I will
discuss it then.” “Fully, I hope” Minerva insisted. “Yes, indeed. As
fully as I am able” the Headmaster agreed, “But I did explain to you that on
some aspects of this you will have to take me on trust.” “Yes, but–” “Tomorrow, Minerva” Dumbledore said softly. “I must insist.” “As you wish.” She left the office quietly but did not say goodnight. “She’s not happy with me” Severus said warily, as he
re-entered the room. “I may have to tell her some of the truth” Dumbledore replied. “I would prefer not to. I also have to think what to say about Caldecott. He disappeared in Severus nodded, appreciating how difficult it was for
Dumbledore at times. “Is there any chance that Hilary is alive?” Dumbledore
asked suddenly, sounding as if he was clutching at straws. “No, Headmaster” Severus said. “None of the victims will survive. Most were dead when I left – all of the
monarda subjects, and most of the others.
The few hardy ones who could last out were, even so, close to
death. Hilary was not one of those. But, hardy or not, there is no ultimate escape
from that poison. Its progression is
rather like hemlock. Talking of which–” He hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. “Go on” Dumbledore said.
“Anything I need to know, I must know.
Carry on.” “I spoke to Lucius about the number of bodies” Severus
explained. “It concerned me what would
happen to them. They are evidence. And as you know it is not practical to vanish
them magically.” “And you didn’t want them lying about for anyone to find” the
Headmaster said; a trace of distaste in his voice. “Well, no. Naturally
not” Severus agreed, sounding almost embarrassed. “You appreciate my position.” “I do. What did
Lucius say?” “That the Dark Lord intends to use them. He is creating an army of Inferi. He also has a pair of Dementors.” “A pair?” “I believe so, yes.
Just two of them.” “And how does he intend to use this army of the dead?” “Lucius doesn’t know.” “Really?” Dumbledore asked pointedly, “Or is he pretending?” “I think he really doesn’t know” Severus said wearily. “He said the Dark Lord jokes about them,
referring to them as ‘My Cambrian Fusiliers’ and ‘The Scourge of the Welsh’ but
he doesn’t know what that really means. It
is very probable that the Dark Lord will only tell us, or some of us, when he
is ready to mobilise them. Sorry that’s
a bit vague, Headmaster. Does knowing
that help at all?” “Yes” Dumbledore said, thinking it over and nodding his
head. “Yes; it shows me that they have
certain information. But it won’t do
them any good. Hmm… We may be able to round up this army, whilst
they waste their efforts like sea breaking on hard rock. I am hopeful.
Thank you, Severus.” After going over a few points again, which got them no
further forward, Severus finally set off for bed and for a small measure of
Dreamless Sleep. He could not afford to
oversleep, but he feared his dreams or another sleepless night. The staff were noticeably subdued as the news of the
disappearance of the Librarian spread.
It was as if they could no longer close their minds to the dark turmoil
in the world outside. Severus received
no word about the potion trials other than the fact that Voldemort was pleased
and that Severus’s advice about the different versions had been sound. Meanwhile the press was full of reports of Saturday’s
disappearances, although no bodies were found.
And there were also reports about fog, unseasonably early, affecting “It’s not fog, it’s mist!” Wilbert said, pointing to his
copy of the Evening Prophet at the start of dinner. “I wish they’d get these details right. Weird, though. It’s very local and it won’t go away.” (Dumbledore pricked up his ears, looking
grave.) Never mind; only a week to the
Hallowe’en Feast” Wilbert continued breezily.
“You won’t be skipping that will you, “Of course not” “Well you miss half the meals.” “No. Only breakfast. Lunch is my breakfast.” “You work such difficult hours, m’dear.” “I can’t teach my practicals while the sun is up” she smirked. “The price of being an astronomy teacher is
being a creature of the night.” “A creature of the night!” Wilbert exclaimed. “What a romantic metaphor.” “Some of the world’s most ruthless hunters are creatures of
the night” She bit into a sliver of watermelon, making its deep-pink
juice spurt like blood. Severus
chuckled, grateful for the diversion their banter provided. He wondered whether she actually liked
Wilbert, whether the ‘feisty madam act’ was just that – just an act. “Nice girl, that” Wilbert murmured when “Yes indeed” Severus agreed. “And almost perfect English, too. Where does she come from?” “I can’t quite remember” Wilbert replied. “She did tell us, didn’t she. Can’t you recall?” No, Severus couldn’t remember either; not at that
moment. He had so much more on his mind. As he lay in bed that night he tried again to recollect what
Oh, And what of Wilbert Slinkhard, the man whom Dumbledore
preferred to me, to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts? He’s the laziest person I’ve ever met! And he thinks the mist is mist – it doesn’t
cross his mind that it might pinpoint a brace of Dementors. So why was he chosen in preference to
me? Yet the old man didn’t make Slinkhard
Head of a House. That’s worth
remembering – Dumbledore trusts me enough for that. And perhaps one day Slinkhard will leave and I
can negotiate a change of subject. Damn
this! I’ll never get to sleep. It will have to be the potion again… The reports of the mist continued and Dumbledore was often
absent from the school. No word came
from the Dark Side. Severus felt as if
he was living in a vacuum. In the early
hours of Wednesday morning a fire broke out at a distillery near
Invergarry. It was headline news in the
Evening Prophet. Severus wondered about
it as he read the paper during dinner.
He noticed the Headmaster was absent from dinner and wondered, too, if
the old man was with Ministry staff at the site of the fire. It had been a horrible day – a morning of cheeky third-years
and an afternoon of unedifying seventh-years, so he decided to call at Dumbledore’s
office just to see if the old man was back and if there was any news. He felt awkward about calling without being
summoned, and without having news to bring, but he felt he needed some
action. Or at lest information. The Headmaster was still away, but Minerva’s voice called
‘come in’. “Oh. Severus” she
remarked in surprise, looking annoyed to see him as he stood hesitating on the
threshold. “Well come in, if you’re
coming.” “I was expecting to find the Headmaster here” he said
rather untruthfully. He stepped into the room, looking a little lost. “No doubt” she said crisply. “Err, what are you doing, Minerva?” he asked, gliding up to
the desk. She had a pile of papers on it. They looked like letters. “Party invitations.” “Party invitations?
Why–” “Because it’s more private than my office. Or so I’d assumed” she added archly. “Dumbledore said I could sit here after
dinner to write them in peace.” “He’s planning a party at a time like this?” “No. I’m doing the
planning. He wants us to keep life as
normal as possible. Now, what do you
want? As you can see” she added sweetly,
“The Headmaster is not here.” “The Headmaster is
here” Dumbledore’s voice announced, and brushing soot from his robes Dumbledore
suddenly appeared in the doorway from the anteroom. Minerva looked annoyed.
“Shall I finish these another time?” she asked, gathering up her
letters. “If you wouldn’t mind” the Headmaster said kindly. “I need my office back. Please stay, Severus.” Dumbledore waited for Minerva to leave before ushering in a
visitor who had been standing quietly out of sight in the anteroom. It was James Potter. “Hello, Severus” he said.
“Albus said we should meet. He
says you’re worrying about me.” They did not shake hands, but finally Dumbledore got them
seated around his desk. Severus looked
warily from face to face, wondering what Dumbledore had said about him. Did James know he was a Death Eater? Did he know he was a secret agent? And a member of the Order of the “As the Headmaster knows, I am concerned that you are
taking adequate precautions for your family’s safety” he explained coldly. “That is all.
We have had this conversation in the past. You know my view.” “ ‘Trust no one’ was the gist of what you said” James
replied. “Well, if you don’t want to
live the life of a hermit you have to trust someone sometime.” “But trust should never be blinkered.” “Are you saying I’m wrong to place my trust in Albus?”
James countered. “Of course not!” Severus replied scornfully. “Why else would I be working here?” James ignored that and went on to say “Albus has given me
certain advice about security measures.
Extra measures. I’ve taken that
advice. Yes I have, Albus” he confirmed,
turning to the Headmaster. “It’s all in place now?” Dumbledore asked, unable to keep
the fear out of his voice. “Yes.” “You made a good choice of…? You know I would have been prepared to do
it.” “Yes – thanks – I know that. We did have a bit of a debate, but finally
it’s all done.” Severus looked from face to face, wondering what they were
talking about. He didn’t want to pry –
he didn’t want to know. But he was
concerned that any decision James might have made would be unsound. “You still don’t look happy, Severus” James sneered, “But
then sullen was always your normal expression.” “If you’ve come here to insult me, I think I’ll leave now”
Severus began. “No. Sorry” James said
quickly. “I didn’t mean that. But you must admit you’re having a pop at me
all the time these days. Rubbishing my
best friends–” “Best friends?” Severus asked sarcastically. “If Black is your best, I most certainly do
question your judgement. As for Lupin –
we all know what he is! Doesn’t have a
human mind, half the time. And who else
is there? Peter Pettigrew! A wizard so inept he hardly knows which way
round to hold his wand–” “–Now now, Severus” Dumbledore said warningly, “I didn’t
bring you two together for verbal fisticuffs–” “–The only time you’ve ever demonstrated good judgement”
Severus continued, warming to the fight, “Is in your choice of a wife–” “–Lily?” James said, amazed. “What’s Lily to you–?” “–And if your thoughtless arrogance has led her into
danger, I’ll–” “–You’ll what?” James demanded, really angry now. He stood, pulling his wand. Severus did likewise.
Then suddenly both wands dropped to the floor and James and Severus were
wincing and rubbing their wrists. “When you’ve quite finished!” Dumbledore thundered, “I’ll
thank you to remember whose office this is.
I think you’ve made your point, Severus.
Unless there is anything else to report, you may go.” “That’s fine by me, Headmaster” Severus hissed. He bent to pick up his wand and marched
off. “I don’t want to know any more of
the details” he growled. “What I don’t
know, I can’t blab about – just in case I find myself at the wrong end of a
Dark Wizard’s wand.” He slammed the door; it echoed down the stairwell as he rode
the descending spiral stairs. Still seething he walked around the castle for the better
part of two hours, eventually making his way towards Dumbledore’s roof garden,
wondering whether the Headmaster had changed the password. “Fizzing Whizzbee” he said scornfully. The wall rolled back revealing the dark staircase, and it
closed behind him, walling him in. There was still some warmth in the garden. A ledge ran around the parapet, five feet
below the top, and along this he walked, looking over the wall like a soldier on
patrol. A light burned in a room at the
base of He could see Minerva walking slowly along a corridor in the
direction of the He turned and looked north.
The sky in that direction was horribly bright, glowing a livid apricot
from the distillery fire. Twenty-five miles,
he wondered? Or maybe even thirty? And yet it’s as bright as day. He circled restlessly for a while and then finally headed
for the bench. His main emotion was
anger – anger at Dumbledore for his obsession with the unquestioned goodness of
wizards such as Potter and Black. But he
also felt a vague dissatisfaction that was nothing to do with old enemies. Why do I feel like this, he mused? It’s exciting, being spy for either
side. And yet, of late, I feel …
lost. Like I don’t know who I am. I was going to be so smart, playing both
sides. Why am I at risk of losing my grip
on it all? I’m an intelligent man; I
have a good memory; I’m careful; and I think logically. Why do I care how I feel? Why do I feel anything? I mustn’t let feelings get in the way – I
always swore I wouldn’t! Feelings cloud
issues, painting them with colours they don’t need. Well … if I think I am losing my grip on
things I’ll just have to take a Wit-Sharpener!
Can’t afford any slip-ups. And I
can’t afford to let the Dark Lord tune in to my emotions. I’d be meat on a plate to him then. Get a grip, Severus! Faint noises from the “House points!” Severus hissed grimly, and he smiled. By the time he got into position below the “Professor” Williamson acknowledged him too, and Severus watched him go,
snaking away through the castle with his black-cloaked followers. At the rear of the Gryffindor line two boys
were whispering excitedly. “Qui-et” Severus called.
“Five points from Gryffindor, Dawlish.
You were warned to be quiet.” Dawlish turned and glared but dare say nothing in
retaliation. Severus glared back at him,
willing him to speak, but the boys continued in silence out of sight. |
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- Chapter 41 - |