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The Murderer's Shadow by silvian_sicily0 [Reviews - 3]

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The Murderer’s Shadow

Chapter Eight

Sicily strode down the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley, the silver heels of her boots sounding an authoritative click that echoed against the store faces and back into the nearly deserted streets. She ran over the mental list of stores she needed to visit: the stationary shop, Madam Malkin’s: and she was considering if she should stop into The Leaky Cauldron for a drink.

As she gazed through the window of the Magical Menagerie, Sicily suddenly felt the unsettling sensation of eyes upon her back. Forcing her hand from plunging into her silver robe for her wand, Sicily slowly turned her head, glancing sideways through the curtains of black curls. Seeing no one in sight, let alone threatening proximity, she strode towards the stationary shop; she needed more parchment and a new bottle of silver ink for her letters to Snape. As she passed Gringotts, the sensation of being watched swept over her again; only this time, it was stronger. She heard stealthy footsteps behind her. Spinning around, Sicily pulled her wand out in mere seconds; pointing it over her shoulder, she calmly–as calmly as she could– commanded in her cold ringing voice, “Halt where you are. Who are you, and what is your business following me?”

She watched the distorted reflection in the highly polished silver handle of her wand: tall man, dark clothing, dark hair.

“A little jumpy today, are we, Silvian?”

Sicily relaxed and turned towards the owner of the familiar velvety voice. “Oh... Hello, Severus,” she muttered. “Have you been following me?”

Snape’s eyebrows raised slightly in amusement. “Why would I follow you, Silvian? I am simply on my way to the apothecary to pick up an order.” His dark eyes swept over her face. “Is everything alright? You seem flustered.”

Sicily put her wand back into the inner pocket of her robe. “No, just cautious, as always,” she replied as she walked with him down the street. “What did you order?”

“The largest jar of dragon’s blood I can find,” Snape answered.


“Ah,” Sicily said, halting her steps before the door of the stationary shop, “I see. I’m afraid I do not have time to chat; I’m on a short unauthorized break from my desk. I need to get back before anyone realizes I’m gone.”

Snape’s face fell almost imperceptibly, though Sicily had known him long enough to detect his disappointment. “I understand. I, too, have paperwork to finish back at Hogwarts.”

“Have a good day, Severus,” she said, turning on her heels to enter the shop.

“Silvian, have you made any progress on that necklace?”

“No,” Sicily said over her shoulder. “I have been unable to decipher any of the magical signatures on it. I’m afraid I can do nothing more with the case. And, I haven’t been able to devote much time to it; I have been flooded with higher profile cases. I hear the girl will be fine.”

“You heard correctly,” Snape said. “Good day, Silvian.”

“Good day, Severus.”

As Sicily watched Snape disappear into the interior of the apothecary, she once again felt eyes upon her. Whirling around, a hand upon her wand, she caught a glimpse of a dark-clad figure disappearing into the shadows of Knockturn Alley.




Three days later, Sicily received a letter stating only a time, date, and place. The location was in an extremely remote place in the Scotland countryside.

She read the letter repeatedly until she memorized it, then threw it into the fireplace and sat on the sofa in her living room, drinking her nightly tea and watching her first instructions from the Dark Lord burn into dark ash.




Snape’s cloak whispered over the snow as he walked towards the forest’s edge. His Dark Mark still burned, and he gritted his teeth against the pain. He wove his way through the forest, cutting a path towards the clearing that was tonight’s gathering place. A rock cairn stood in the center of the clearing. Snape could see by the light of the moon that many others had already arrived.

Tonight’s revel was an initiation.

Snape took his place in the circle of the Dark Lord’s faithful adherents and waited, wondering who the new, unlucky, unknowing recruit was this time. He remembered with bitterness and regret his initiation; it was the first, and largest, mistake of his entire life and the one he wished the most he could take back. It was a feeling, a regret and a burden that he would never wish upon any other human being.

Voldemort stepped into the moonlight that filled the clearing. “My friends,” he addressed them softly, in a voice that had a seductive flair. “It pleases me to inform you that we have received another member. And an influential one, at that. Madame Sicily, please step forward.”

'NO!' Snape screamed in his head. .Oh, Silvian, what have you done?'

Sicily strode bravely out from behind the rock cairn, keeping her head lowered from Lord Voldemort’s gaze. The snow upon the ground crunched underneath her feet. She was dressed in a flowing gossamer gown of ethereal white fabric that shimmered almost blindingly in the moonlight.

Once she was before him, she knelt at his feet in one graceful motion.

“Madame Sicily,” the Dark Lord said, “you work for the Ministry, correct?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

Snape watched with bated breath, trying hard to not tremble where he stood. She was going to get herself killed. If she didn’t do everything to the Dark Lord’s whims... Snape shuddered at the thought.

“In the Department of Mysteries,” Voldemort informed those gathered around him, “And the Magical Forensics Squad. Very impressive, Madame Sicily. And useful.” He dropped down before her, lifting her chin with one long, pale finger “How did you learn of my policies? You are much too calm to be entirely uniformed. I believe you know one of my followers. Don’t you?”

Sicily looked up into Voldemort’s eyes and held them, refusing to blink.

“Yes, My Lord. Severus Snape.”

'I’m going to kill her,' Snape thought. 'I am going to murder that bloody woman.'

“Ah, Severus, one of my most faithful. And how do you know him?” Voldemort stood and swept among his dark disciples.

“We share a romantic relationship, My Lord,” Sicily said without embarrassment.

Several chuckles rose from the gathered Death Eaters.

'That woman is dead,' Snape spat furiously to himself in his head.

Voldemort pulled Sicily to her feet gently, like a father would his daughter when she had fallen. “Welcome to the fellowship of the Death Eaters, Madame Sicily.

The Dark Lord pulled the flowing sleeve of Sicily’s gossamer gown. As the white fabric folded upon itself, it shimmered in the moon’s silver rays. The same rays danced upon her pale skin, causing Sicily to have an enchanting glow. Her midnight blue eyes glowed brightly in the pale light, sparkling with tears of pain as Voldemort branded his horrid mark into her already scarred arm.

She never uttered a whimper of pain as the Dark Lord’s wand passed over and over her skin.

Sicily looked up as Voldemort put his wand away and her eyes connected with Snape’s. As if she could feel the intensity of the man’s anger through his dark eyes, Sicily mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

The Murderer's Shadow by silvian_sicily0 [Reviews - 3]

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