Behind the Looking Glass

The Death of Good and Evil




They could see in the far distance, shrouded by a thick haze that blended in with the cloudscape, the Roshenko estate as it sat perched upon a low rise as they left the city of Bucharest behind them. As Nadia turned off the National road and onto the gravel path that led to the estate, Snape’s onyx eyes narrowed until they were nearly slits and as he looked, he pulled himself forward to lean over the front seat.

Something wasn’t quite right. It was something cold and wicked, and he could feel the waves of dark and powerful magic emanating from it. Snape ordered quietly, “Slow down.”

The taxi slowed and the only sound heard was the crunching of gravel beneath the tires as it crept along the narrow road that skirted the edge of the forest. If muggles had passed by and happened to glance in that direction, they would have seen the pristine grounds and luxuriously large dwelling with all the apparent normalcy of everyday life being conducted. As it was two wizards and a witch that were viewing the scene instead, they could see past the charm that had been placed years previously upon the estate itself and the surrounding grounds. It sat unsettlingly quiet with no obvious activity about, and ominously, no lights shown through the haze as well.

As they got nearer, Snape’s keen eyesight took in the signs of evil he had felt only mere minutes earlier. Wisps of smoke issued forth from what had been the western wall of the building itself, and debris and rubble lay strewn on the ground. The estate looked toward the south and faced the Capital city from whence they had come from, and the windows were blackened and charred. The massive front door was blown from its hinges and hung drunkenly to the side. Large chunks of earth had been gouged out by what only could have been a massive force, and bodies lay scattered about in various contorted positions in an obvious attempt to flee. The car stopped and all three stared grimly at the carnage and destruction that lay spread out gruesomely before them.

“Closer,” Snape said, as he pulled out his wand and held it ready for any necessary action.

Delbert followed suite, and Nadia pulled her own out and clamped it between her white teeth as she moved the taxi cautiously moved forward until it came to a stop before the mansion. All three got out and scanned the grounds for any sign of life in the immediate vicinity. Finding none, Snape silently pointed to Delbert and jerked his head toward the western wall, and Schoonmaker nodded in understanding and immediately left to investigate.

“Come with me,” he mouthed the words to Nadia, and they entered through the door.

The interior was darkened and Nadia wrinkled her nose at the reek of smoke and the sharp odour of seared flesh. They moved forward slowly and guardedly as they inspected the bodies that were found sprawled on the floor. It was soon evident that those responsible, had long ago left the scene as the bodies already displayed rigor mortis. It was clear to Snape, from the shocked looks on the faces of some of the dead and no apparent signs of injury, that they had been hit suddenly and without warning, with the killing curse. It had been a surprise attack that had not even been suspected to happen.

Nadia grunted and stepped back in disgust from the corpse she found in the corner and said, “Not a wery pretty sight – he vas tortured; repeatedly.”

Going through the rest of the first floor, and eventually making their way to the central Hall, and ascending the Grande Staircase, they discovered everywhere they went to be much the same, and without finding any evidence of Augusta.

Snape and Nadia found themselves in an undamaged and sparsely furnished room, which was odd enough indeed since the rest of the once magnificent home had been sumptuously furnished. He frowned as he looked about, and his lips silently formed the puzzled question, “Where?”

Delbert sighted them and rushed in carrying something in his hand. “No survivors outside. An’ I even went down into the lower kitchens an’ servant quarters, an’ no sign of yer lady anywhere - I found this instead,” he said somewhat out of breath, and handed Snape what appeared to be a mask and unhappily commented, “Death Eaters.”

Snape took the mask and turned it around thoughtfully as Nadia asked, “If the Dark Lord has regained hees strength, vhy attack here?”

“Voldemort has not regained his strength. That is something I would know personally, and it is doubtful he will in the near future. Even if that were the case, there would have been the sign of Mosmordre above….” Snape’s voice trailed off as movement caught his eye, and he stared over his companions’ shoulders.

They turned to see what it was that had captured his attention, and saw a wounded, yet still standing Gregorio Roshenko in the doorway, and his clothes were torn and bloodstained. He swayed slightly then stepped forward into the room with his walking stick grasped tightly in his hand, and he looked at Delbert saying, “You’re not a Death Eater,” and glancing at Nadia, “Why you’re here I don’t know.”

He stopped advancing and turning to face Snape he stated, “But I sense that you are, and your friends have already left with their new master. They tried to take the Power from me, and failed and I doubt very much you are accomplished enough to do it yourself single-handedly. I warn you not make the same foolish mistake and misjudge what you see before you,” he jerked the polished cane upward and pointed its glowing crystal head directly at Snape’s chest.

“If you continue to point that - thing, then I suggest you use it well, otherwise lower it. I’m not here to get ‘this’ Power you speak of for I do not desire it, nor do I serve any master other than myself,” Snape said flatly, his eyes hard and glittering as he continued to stand and hold the mask.

“Then what are you here for? Answer truthfully - and you and your friends shall live.”

“Augusta.”

A glimmer of recognition flashed through his eyes and he spoke, “You must be he whom she cried out for in her mind, when my son took her from here. Your name is Severus then…” he lowered his arm and suddenly seemed to age rapidly before them. “My son is mad. Only yesterday when I returned, I found her in this very room. He had used her unmercifully, and apparently for months she endured his advances. I confronted him, and ordered him from my home, yet he was not to take her with him. I believed he would try to steal her away if I retired to my chambers and I waited for him to make his move, and unfortunately much to my dismay he did,” he sat heavily in the window Augusta had always stared out of, and his chin sagged to his chest in sorrow. With distress etched deeply on his face, he looked up at Snape, “I had no idea that he was capable of so much evil.”

Snape moved swiftly and knelt before the stricken man and grasped his shoulders firmly saying, “You must tell me everything you know. Her life, perhaps all our lives depend on it.”

He took a shuddering breath and looked as if it pained him, then said, “She was practically catatonic when I left her in the care of my woman servant Magda, yet I could feel that her mind had begun to focus entirely on one thing. I could sense from her a memory of someone – a dark figure, but who it was I did not know until now, because she wouldn’t allow me to see anymore than that. She had shut out everything but that one thought,” he paused as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand then resumed speaking as Snape struggled to remain patient. “In his twisted mind, he believes through her, and only through her, he can start his own dynasty. He thinks if he can wrest the Power from me, he can overthrow the Dark Lord and rule the world; he has convinced those that have abandoned Voldemort to follow him on his quest.”

“Well, that’s bloody crazy!” Delbert interjected and was roughly jabbed in the ribs by Nadia’s sharp elbow as she gave him a pointed look. “Oh,” he said when he realized the conversation did not include anyone but Snape and Gregorio.

“He told me this because he wanted me to know how much he hated me before he tried to murder me.” The old man’s voice shook as anger quickly replaced his sorrow, “I’ve given that ungrateful wretch everything and more, and he betrays me and tries to destroy everything I have worked for – everything I did for him!” His anger was so great that he trembled, and looked ready to explode on a moment’s notice.

Snape shook him none too gently to return the old man’s attention back to his questions, “What is this Power that he seeks?”

Gregorio looked at him, the glaze of fury slowly leaving his eyes, “The ‘Power’ is the accumulated magic of my ancestors.”

“And?” Snape prompted.

“Each one of my forefathers, when they sensed their passing near, would gather their energies and entrust their magic on to their heir as part of a blessing. I carry within me, nearly one thousand years of accumulated power from them. It is a terrible burden to bear, and the temptation to use it for dark purposes is dreadful indeed.”

“All right, I know I’m interruptin’ again, but if ‘e killed ye, ‘e wouldn’t get the Power. Ye said yerself, it was passed on as sort of a blessin’, and I don’ understan’ ‘ow ‘e thinks ‘e can get it,” Delbert stepped beyond Nadia’s reach and waited for an answer.

“He has created an incantation that must be said at the exact moment of my death, and it would steal the Power from me against my will, and transfer it to him.”

“’ow come, if ye hold such great power, ye didn’ stop ‘im in the firs’ place?”

“Because, young man, unless you are a father, you wouldn’t understand. I simply could not find it within myself to take the life of my only child.”

“Where has he taken her? Where?!” Snape asked sharply, diverting the man’s attention back to the reason he had come there in the first place.

“The Ancient Place. The home of my forefathers.”

Snape was finding it difficult to hold his temper, for he wanted a more direct answer, “Where - is - the - Ancient Place?” He asked, his expression belying the carefully measured tones of his voice.

“The Carpathians - Munþii Apuseni; nearly midway up Cucurbãta Mare rests the ancient family castle.”

Snape whipped his head around and raised a questioning brow at Nadia, who answered slowly, “Yes, I know vhere that is, but it vill not be easy place to get to.”

“She is right. The surrounding area is fraught with dangerous creatures and fortified with powerful blood spells. One thing that is most important to remember; no magic, no matter how strong the caster, can be used outside the castle walls. You cannot apparate there, or use a Port Key, unless you are of - the Roshenko - bloodline….” His voice faded to a whisper as all colour suddenly seemed to drain from his face and he fell forward into Snape’s arms.

Snape grunted as he awkwardly caught the weight of the large man, and together, he and Delbert placed him upon the bed that had been a place of torture to Augusta. Snape withdrew his hands from beneath the man’s body and they came back slick with fresh blood.

Nadia cursed under her breath, and quickly went to the old man saying, “I vill take him to my sisters. They are wery good at healingh – vait here,” she reached down and placed her hand upon the obviously dying man’s chest and clasped the amulet that hung about her neck with the other, and muttering a few words in her native language, both disappeared with a hissing pop.

After a few seconds, Delbert broke the silence and said sourly, “Well, it looks as if we’re goin’ to ‘ave ter do it the ‘ard way mate.” He was not relishing the thought of the prospect of facing unknown and dangerous creatures without magic.

“Yes,” Snape said, and withdrew his wand then used a cleansing spell to rid the already sticky and drying blood from his hands and clothes. “We shall need to get supplies, and weapons.”

No sooner than he had spoken, with another hissing pop, Nadia returned wearing a grave look upon her face, with several knapsacks amply filled with supplies piled about her feet. “I haf good news – perhaps it is bad news also, and even worse news,” Nadia stated grimly, her mismatched eyes darting from one man to the next as she stepped over the small mountain of equipment.

Snape and Schoonmaker looked at her, a feeling of dread filling them both, as Delbert suddenly spoke up in exasperation at her cryptic message, “Well, what are ye waitin’ fer? Don’ keep us hangin’ on tenterhooks!”

“He’s dead,” she said bluntly.

“Roshenko?” Both men asked in unison.

“No – yes, but more than that. Woldemort is dead. Someone named Potter is who my sisters said did it. There are celebrations being planned even as we speak,” Nadia spoke without any hint of relief in her voice.

“Well, well, the 'Boy Wonder, finally did something right after all,” Snape concluded with a sneer, but secretly he felt pride in knowing he had been able to teach the young man something after all.

“Boy Vonder? I have no idea who…”

“Wait,” Snape interrupted as he held up his hand. His feeling of pride began to turn once more into a gnawing dread. “I take it, the worse news is Voldemort’s demise.”

“Exactly.”

“Now why would that be so terrible?” Delbert folded his arms, confused at the conversation.

“That in itself is not so terrible, but my sisters told me, Roshenko’s vounds continued to reopen ewen after beingh healed. Just before the oldh man diedh, he toldh me his son continued to chant the incantation even as he fledh, and if he was still doingh it when his father… Vell, he insured himself of gettingh the Power,” Nadia explained.

Seeing that Schoonmaker failed to grasp the enormity of the situation Snape further put into plain words as he bent to inspect the provisions Nadia had brought with her, saying “And that coupled with Voldemort’s demise, may prove him to be unstoppable – for without the Dark Lord to be a diversionary tool for the young Roshenko to concentrate on, we are in for far more that we thought in the first place - to say the least.”

“So what yer tellin’ me is, we’ve got to deal with Merlin knows what is out there - without magic. No tellin’ ‘ow many Death Eaters that might come our way – while we can’t use magic, and more Death Eaters if we survive long enough ter get into the castle. Then face a madman that thinks ‘e’s goin’ ter be the third Dark Lord, ‘ho probably has as much if not more power. Is that right?” Delbert ticked off his points finger by finger and stood staring as the impact of what he said hit home.

“Correct,” Snape cocked his brow and raised his head to look at them.

“Blimey, we’re fu-.”

“Of course,” Snape deftly interrupted Delbert’s profanities, “it could also be to our advantage. He could grow over confident with his newfound power and find he cannot handle it, which may lead to carelessness and blunders that we can seize upon and turn the situation in our favour.”