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I, Too, Shall Follow by notwolf [Reviews - 0]

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“Severus, did you see this?” Eileen held up a copy of the Daily Prophet. “Didn’t you go to school with a boy named Potter?”

“Yes,” he said, taking the paper from her hand, his heart thumping. Had the Death Eaters finally caught up with the insufferable prat?

“His parents died,” Eileen went on as Severus ignored her, his black eyes devouring the article.

The Muggle law enforcement were called in when neighbors adjacent to the Potter dwelling smelled an odd, terrible odor. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were found in their bed, with no apparent signs of trauma or struggle in the bedroom or flat. Natural cause has been cited as the reason for their demise, although the Ministry of Magic can neither confirm nor deny whether the Unforgivable Killing Curse was used. Their deaths appear to have come some three days prior, and the bodies showed signs of decay.

Potter’s parents were dead. Severus leaned back in his chair at the breakfast table. He couldn’t pretend to be happy about it, yet it made him gag to feel pity for his nemesis. The probability of both parents keeling over in their sleep in the same night was astronomical. In other words, the Death Eaters likely did play a hand in this, but why kill the old couple? James was the one Lord Voldemort despised. He could only imagine that they’d ransacked the place for clues to the bastard’s whereabouts, yet the article implied things were not out of place. Would they have charmed everything back where it came from? He’d have to ask Lucius if he knew anything about it.

“This is awful news, Mum. I’ll send an owl over to Lily’s parents’ house.” It just occurred to him that he didn’t even know where Lily lived. After the Halloween attack in which he’d sliced open Potter with Sectumsempra, the family had sold the house and gone into hiding.

“Will you be going to the funeral?” she asked.

Severus looked at her as if she’d grown a third eye. “Mum, Potter ha—we didn’t get along in school. He wouldn’t want me there.” Not to mention if the Dark Lord got wind of the fact that he was hobnobbing with the enemy, his funeral would follow shortly. “I’d better go write a note of condolence and owl it right away.”

XXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOO

The following day Severus received another shock: Lily Potter stood in his doorway, asking to come in. He stepped aside wordlessly, she walked in, and he closed the door.

His mind reeled at having Lily show up at his house after all these years. He used to ponder it, dream of it…then once he had Glenna, he didn’t really think of it anymore. Now it was just—weird! Lacking his usual flair for expression, he remarked, “Lily, this is unexpected.”

“I know, Severus. I got your owl…thank you, it was kind of you.” She gestured toward the couch. “May I sit down?”

“Oh, yes.” Shaken out of his shock, he came over and planted himself on the opposite end of the sofa. At a loss for words, he said, “I didn’t think it appropriate to attend the funeral.”

“I understand.” Awkward pause. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to meet you in the park as we discussed, but with things…” she trailed off.

“Yeah, I figured.” He didn’t remember it being so hard to carry on a civil, marginally normal conversation with Lily, but then it had been four years of virtual animosity. Blushing like a schoolboy, he tentatively reached over to pick up her hand as a show of support. When she didn’t jerk it away, he blushed more furiously. “I feel bad for you, Lily.”

“Thank you, Severus, I…I wish it weren’t like this. I really wanted so much to regain our friendship.”

Though Snape’s face remained impassive, his heart squeezed. “What do you mean?”

“James says we need to move again, and that we shouldn’t be in public or have visitors or anything, at least for a while. He’s afraid the Death Eaters will find us and try to kill us again.”

“Why would he think that?” exclaimed Severus, feeling like an utter hypocrite. If any of them found out Lily was here in his home, there’d be hell and worse to pay.

“He just wants to be sure. I mean, the Ministry can’t confirm my in-laws’ deaths were natural cause,” she explained.

“Nor could they confirm foul play,” he countered. “Potter’s being paranoid.”

“Maybe,” she admitted. “But for now, I think it’s best to do as he says.”

“Can we write?” asked Severus, immediately berating himself. Yes, James would love to get letters from Snivellus, and in a secret hiding place at that!

“If you send to my family, I’ll get it eventually and owl you back,” Lily promised. “I have to go; no one knows where I am.” She stood up, her hand still pressed in Severus’ palm. He rose, looking dejected. “Goodbye for now.”

Suddenly she lunged forward to hug him. His arms instinctively closed around her, the bulge of her abdomen pressing in his gut in a strange, unsettling way. Aside from that, the embrace felt wonderful, as if he’d been freed from a weighty chain. For the first time in four years, he felt like he truly had a chance to be friends with her again, and he liked it.

“Take care of yourself, Lily. I’ll write you soon.”

She smiled and pulled away. “I look forward to it. It feels so good to talk to you again.”

“Likewise.” After she’d gone, he sat back onto the couch. What was he getting himself into? If the Dark Lord had indeed sent followers to murder Potter’s parents, it made sense Potter was next. Or more likely, he’d been the target all along, which put Lily in danger. Yet another reason to hate the fool—he couldn’t even protect his own wife!

I digress, Snape mused. The real issue was this: Lily was in danger from Death Eaters because of Potter, and if the Dark Lord knew Snape had become friendly with her, nothing good could come of it. Either he’d kill Severus for betrayal, or force him to find out where the couple was hiding, again putting Lily in the line of fire. She was right, it was best to lay low—including foregoing writing letters. He’d promised to write, but not if it meant her possible death! For all he knew, the Evans family was being watched, too. Owls hanging around a Muggle house were definitely suspicious. Hopefully it would blow over soon or Potter would meet his comeuppance, it made no difference to Severus which one. Either way, Snape would be free to communicate with and mingle with Lily once more.

XXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOO

“Oh, Lucius,” Narcissa called, waddling out of his study and down the hall, peering hither and yon like an animal on the hunt. She knew he was home. She cradled her lower back in her hands as she walked; only two more weeks until this baby finally vacated her body so she could feel human again. “Lucius!”

Her husband poked his head out from the great library at the far end of the hall, where he’d been hiding…er, studying. “Yes, dear?”

Spying him, she lumbered along as fast as she dared. Lucius came up from the other direction to meet her, a worried frown creasing his forehead. “What is it, love? Are you alright?”

“I’m bored. I want you to take me someplace new.”

Not again! In the past month he’d been put upon with so many requests of a trivial nature he thought he might implode. Still, she was his princess, and she was carrying his child. Eyeing her up and down, he suppressed an irritated sigh. She was in no condition to be galavanting, she should be resting. “Where would you like to go?”

Narcissa chewed her lower lip, which he found most adorable and she knew it. “I want to see a Muggle grocery,” she announced, smiling and batting her eyes at him.

When Lucius had recovered from a prolonged fit of coughing and wheezing, he wiped the water running from his eyes and glared at her. “Are you insane or are you testing me?”

“You got to go to one,” she pouted, stamping her foot like a spoiled child. “I never get to have any fun! All I do is toddle around the house—”

“Correction, love. I was forced to go, I didn’t get to go,” Lucius drawled. “You despise Muggles as much as I do. Are your hormones driving you completely batty?”

“Don’t you dare talk to me that way!” she huffed. Yes, it was a bizarre request…she just craved something novel. Why couldn’t that—man—understand that? Because he wasn’t the one carrying a twenty pound wriggling wombat in his belly for what seemed like two years! Well, if that’s the way he wanted to be, she wanted no part of him! “Never mind. I don’t care to go now.” She wheeled around as imperiously as a dangerously unsteady body is able, then wobbled off, sulking.

“God save me,” Lucius murmured to the ceiling. Father had warned him things could get like this. He desperately hoped Narcissa would return to the normal, sane woman he loved once their child was born.

His reflections were cut short by a burning pain in his forearm. Without hesitation he Summoned his robes and mask, ran to catch up with his wife to kiss her, and rushed away.

XXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOO

Voldemort motioned for Lucius to get up. Skipping preliminaries he said, “Malfoy, I gave you a diary of mine for safekeeping. I trust you still have it.”

“Of course, my Lord. It’s in one of our safes,” he assured the dark wizard.

“Snape is poised to obtain a teaching position at Hogwarts.” Voldemort enjoyed the look of surprise crossing the other’s face. Evidently they weren’t as close of friends as he’d thought. “Once he is a professor, you’ll have access to Hogwarts in a whole new way—by visiting a friend rather than making an official visit as governor.”

Lucius said nothing, having no idea where this was going.

“The diary will come in very handy,” the Dark Lord said cryptically.

“May I ask how, Master?”

“No doubt you’ve heard of the Heir of Slytherin, Lucius.” He studied the young man for signs of recognition, slightly put off to notice only a blank expression. “He is descended from Salazar Slytherin, the co-founder of Hogwarts who created the Chamber of Secrets.”

Another obtuse expression greeted him.

“Don’t they teach you anything at Hogwarts anymore?” demanded Voldemort.

“Apparently not, my Lord,” murmured Lucius, lowering his eyes. Was it his fault Dumbledore suppressed all the interesting aspects of magic and history? “I beg you to enlighten me.”

Voldemort wiggled back on his throne, crossing his legs and sighing like a martyr. “Salazar Slytherin created the Chamber of Secrets at Hogwarts to house a great creature, a basilisk, to do his bidding. No one but he knew where the Chamber was, or how to access it. He had to seal the Chamber when the other founders started searching, though legend told of his Heir to come who would re-open the Chamber and allow the basilisk to finish its work.”

“What work might that be, my Lord?” He thought it wise not to ask what a basilisk was; he’d have to look it up later.

“The work of driving the Mudblood filth out of Hogwarts.”

“But I thought Dumbledore was the one who allowed Mudbloods in,” Lucius said. “They were at Hogwarts before that?”

“Oh, he made it much worse, soliciting the savages. But no, the other founders had no pride in their pureblood heritage,” Voldemort explained, shaking his head in disgust with a grimace that twisted his face until it was more hideous than usual. “They didn’t realize that purebloods must remain so in order to keep the true, pure magic alive. They didn’t care about betraying their ancestors by mixing superior blood with inferior, dirtying it, warping the magic.”

Lucius nodded along in complete agreement. Purebloods carried the superior gift they’d been given, they cherished it, they taught their children how to use it and respect it. Without purebloods, where did they think half-bloods—and by an ironic accident of genetics, Mudbloods—came from? If no purebloods existed, magic would die out, or at the very least the world would revert to killing witches and wizards who popped up by chance every now and again. For once he didn’t have to pretend; he concurred wholeheartedly with the Master.

“Salazar Slytherin understood the need to keep blood pure, as do most of those sorted into his House. As I said, he was compelled to seal the Chamber, which was to be opened by his Heir. I am that Heir, Malfoy.”

“Seriously?” exclaimed Lucius, hurriedly backtracking. “I mean, that’s incredible, my Lord! You’ve been chosen for such a momentous task.”

“Obviously Dumbledore has effectively stifled any mention of the Chamber or the Heir, else you’d know that I did re-open the Chamber when I was at Hogwarts.” Lucius stared at him, wide eyed and enthralled. “The basilisk killed a Mudblood and they were set to close Hogwarts. I was forced to seal the Chamber once more, which brings me to why you’ve been summoned. The diary I entrusted to you has the power to open the Chamber again, to allow the work to be finished, to be rid of Mudbloods there once and for all.”

“It truly is an astonishing object, my Lord. I’m humbled that you’ve chosen me to guard it.”

Voldemort gave a magnanimous nod. “When the time is right, I’ll give the order for you to pass the diary into Hogwarts, where it can begin its work.”

“I eagerly anticipate it, Master. The sooner the better.”

“My Lord!” came a screeched shout, followed by Bellatrix scurrying into the room. So intent was she on her mission, she wholly forgot to denigrate Lucius. “Master, that vampire is back!”

Red eyes lighting, Voldemort rose in one smooth motion, stepped off the low pedestal housing his throne, and pushed Lucius aside on his way out. Lucius trailed after him, full of anxiety. Was it Mateo? If so, why would he come here? Or was it the leader? And why did the Master go to meet him rather than have him brought in?

His questions were answered momentarily. Yadiro Buitrago and an entourage of four other vampires stood silently outside. Mateo was not among them. Yadiro gave a small bow to the Dark Lord, then nodded so lightly in Lucius’ direction he wasn’t entirely sure he’d been recognized.

“Lord Voldemort, I am pleased to make your acquaintance once more,” Yadiro said in his formal, precise English.

“It’s good to see you,” Voldemort answered, looking genuinely glad. “Is this business or pleasure?”

“Perhaps both. First, I am curious how your flying is advancing.” On their previous lessons, it had been a difficult road trying to figure out how to translate into a breakdown of motion the very act of flight that came so naturally to a sangrista. By the second lesson, the dark wizard had accomplished actual flight, if clumsily.

“Very well, thank you. I’ve been practicing and refining what you taught me, and now I find it rather enjoyable.”

“Excellent,” said Buitrago. “Would you care to show me?”

Voldemort took out his wand, muttered a spell over himself, and jumped into the air. Looking surprised, Buitrago leaped after him and the two flew off, leaving their subordinates behind to stare at one another. Huffing indignantly, mumbling something about a refusal to babysit a bunch of freaks, Bellatrix stomped back into the castle.

Lucius glanced around, feeling like an idiot. Did he have permission to leave? Certainly the Master hadn’t ordered him to stay, but if he left without permission, he’d be in for a boatload of pain. Tempted to slip into the castle himself rather than trade wordless glares with the vampires, he backed up, then halted in place. Come to think of it, their brooding company was highly preferable to Bella’s.

One of the males finally addressed him in shaky, heavily accented English. “You ees da Malfoy weech?”

Witch? “Wizard,” he corrected firmly. “And yes, I’m Malfoy.”

“You seeing Mateo?”

“Have I seen Mateo? Yes, but not for well over a month. Why?”

The vampire chattered something to the others, who fired back in rapid Spanish, then he turned to Lucius again. “Mateo ees leave. Him no come back.”

Lucius froze in place. Was he saying Mateo was exiled or missing? Had he been ejected from the cult? Was this part of what Buitrago had come to discuss—the ‘business’? He doubted they’d changed their minds and agreed to work with the Dark Lord. Damn it, why hadn’t he learned Spanish properly when he’d had the chance with his tutor?

“Hey, Lucius,” said Rodolphus, wandering over from the castle. “What’s going on? Who are these lovely folks?” His eyes lit on a pretty young sangrista in tight pants and black T-shirt that filled out nicely with her ample bosom.

“They’re vampires. Haven’t you seen them before?”

“Actually, no. I never had the pleasure.” Had he just winked at her?

“The Dark Lord went flying with their leader. I’d go home if I knew I wouldn’t be punished for it,” Lucius answered, glancing up into the sky.

Rodolphus seemed to be only half listening. He’d caught the female’s gaze and was smiling suggestively. “Yeah, you’d better wait,” he said distractedly.

The sangrista smiled back in a way that showed she was no stranger to flirtation. To Lucius’ shock, she stepped forward to plant a kiss right on Rodolphus’ lips. Not only did he not resist, in a matter of seconds they were snogging like teenagers.

“Roddy, what are you doing?” Lucius exclaimed, to no avail.

“Can’t you tell?” grinned the man. “If she’s willing, so am I.”

“She could bite you!”

“If she does, I hope it feels really good,” Rodolphus quipped. Snatching her hand, he started to pull her along. Hand in hand they slipped off into the dark as Lucius watched in horror.

“She no bite,” the male vampire interjected. “Have fun ees all.”

“Not once Bella finds out,” Lucius muttered to no one. He didn’t want to be around for that. Since when did Rodolphus cheat on Bellatrix? Not that he’d blame the man. She’d been humping the Master for years, and shortchanging her husband in the process. Nevertheless, Bella had never been the type to share, so Roddy-boy had better hope she didn’t discover his little tryst. He’d kind of miss Rodolphus if Bella murdered him.

Another short period of awkward silence, until at last the figures of Voldemort and Buitrago appeared as small black objects in the sky. They grew rapidly larger, hovered overhead, and touched down softly. In Lucius’ experience, this was the only time he’d ever seen the Dark Lord truly looking gleeful when it didn’t involve someone else’s pain.

“You’re still here, Lucius?” asked Voldemort. “Mr. Buitrago had a question for us: have you seen Mateo lately?”

“No, my Lord,” he hedged, wondering how much Buitrago had told him. Not enough to incense him, it seemed. “This vampire here said he’s missing.”

“Yes, apparently so. At any rate, you may go.”

Lucius bowed deeply and Disapparated, only a minute before Rodolphus returned from the darkness with the female vampire, smiling broadly.

XXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOO

The young woman lying on the ground moaned, shaking her head in confusion. Mateo knelt over her, his mouth drenched with her blood, which dribbled down his chin onto his filthy shirt that hadn’t been changed in weeks, not since he stole that last suit of clothing off a line. He regarded the woman carefully; he’d taken more from her than he ever had from any one person, enough perhaps to turn her. If his heart worked, it would have skipped a beat.

He tried to remember the process of turning as described to him. The special glands grown behind his canine teeth were the key. Exactly the right amount of blood must be taken, one third of that in the body, then he must feed back two shots of the venom from his canine glands directly into an artery. It seemed simple enough, yet if not done precisely, the girl would die.

He furrowed his brow and shook his head in agitation. Was he actually contemplating bringing her unwillingly into the fold? That was forbidden much more so than taking meals without permission. It was an offense punishable by death, which was the very reason he was here! Porfirio had been killed by his hand for this very thing, or the attempt of it, at any rate.

Mateo sat back on his heels to think. Was anger at Yadiro and his rules reason enough to create a sangrista, steal her life, steal her family and all she held dear? He himself resented with a fervent passion the fact that all this had been taken from him. And though it chafed to admit it, Diro had a point in stating that creating vampires simply made more competition for the blood resources.

He rubbed a finger over the bloody gash on her neck. It wasn’t deep; he never cut deep like some who were less considerate…it would seal itself soon, and she’d live. Getting to his feet, he wobbled a bit, feeling like he used to as a human when he got drunk. Too much excess tended to do that, even to sangristas. Come tomorrow, he’d suffer the hangover effect he’d grown accustomed to during his little rampage.

Maybe it was time to get over ‘his tantrum’ as Diro was fond of calling his outbursts. Soon he’d have to go back, for he missed Tonia dearly. He didn’t relish the thought of facing the leader because, although Yadiro probably wasn’t aware of what he’d been up to, nothing had changed in the dynamic of their relationship. It was a fight waiting to happen, and he’d seen the results of sangristas’ fights with Yadiro. It wasn’t pretty. Perhaps he should go visit his great-great-to-the-umpteenth-nephew, Lucius.







I, Too, Shall Follow by notwolf [Reviews - 0]

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