A Song for Severus ~ (Not Update, but Edit)

Chapter 31 ~ A New Arrival

Albus, Hermione and Severus listened as Volaria Riddle told them the story of her life under the power and tutelage of Bellatrix LeStrange.

Hermione listened with horror etched on her face as Volaria described the way the witch tried to teach her to be brutal and uncaring about life by killing small animals and house elves.

“I didn’t want to do it, to do any of it,” Volaria said, “Aunt Bella wasn’t pleased with me and focused all her energy on Voltaire. Voltaire would do anything for Aunt Bella. Even kill,” the witch said.

Severus studied the young witch closely. She could be a plant by Bella.

An examination by Albus proved the witch had no idea of her parentage other than Voldemort being her father, nor did she know where the stronghold was. She had never been out of it until today. But the way she escaped showed she was resourceful.

Albus studied her for a moment, then looked at Severus who had a scowl on his face.

“What do you think we should do, Severus?” the Headmaster asked him.

“Lock her up,” the Potions Master replied as Volaria’s eyes widened.

“No! Why?” Hermione said.

“Because she could be a plant…that’s why. Sent here to infiltrate us in some manner,” the dark wizard said.

“No! No. I ran away. I wasn’t sent here. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just want to live a normal life...” Volaria said, rising from her chair now and looking around the room wildly. She wouldn’t let them lock her away.

“Calm down, Miss Riddle,” Albus said soothingly as Hermione glowered at Severus, who had his arms folded, his black eyes dispassionate, “I have no intentions on locking you away, but I do need to divine your purpose. Please approach my Phoenix Fawkes.”

Albus gestured toward the beautiful red bird resting on a perch. Fawkes rolled his eyes at the witch, and trilled encouragingly. Volaria walked toward him slowly.

“Oh, he’s beautiful,” she said softly.

Fawkes bobbed his head several times at the compliment as the witch stopped in front of him. The bird studied her closely, staring into her blue eyes with his golden ones, then let out a squawk and bobbed his head at the Headmaster, who smiled brightly.

“She has no evil intentions, Severus. She is just a young witch seeking sanctuary,” the Headmaster said as Severus continued to scowl, “And she shall have it.”

Volaria petted Fawkes’ crested head.

“Thank you, Fawkes,” she said to the Phoenix who trilled a beautiful little song at her that made the witch feel warm and safe. She turned and walked back to her seat and sat down again.

“Bellatrix is going to be livid,” Severus said, frowning at Volaria, “She’s not stupid. She’s going to know that somehow the witch left with me. What am I supposed to tell her?”

”The truth,” Albus said, “Albeit a slightly altered one. Tell her that you didn’t know who the girl was when you found her in your rooms and she wouldn’t tell you, so you brought her to me as you would do any student in our school. Only then did you discover who she was, and it was too late. I had already taken her under my wing.”

Severus studied the Headmaster. Perhaps that would work, particularly since Bella had not told him of Volaria’s existence. How was he to know the daughter of Voldemort was clinging to his robes in animagus form when he left the stronghold? Besides, the witch might initially be angry, but she had Voltaire to think of. No doubt her focus would be on the boy. According to the story Volaria told them, she was practically a non-entity anyway.


“That might work,” the wizard said, still eyeing the Riddle girl. “But what to do with her? It can’t become common knowledge that the daughter of Voldemort is at Hogwarts. She will become an immediate target for some and an object of worship by others. Neither which is a feasible option.”

Albus tapped his chin for a moment as he studied Volaria.

”She has her mother’s features, whoever the poor witch was,” Albus said. He had no doubt Bellatrix killed her immediately after Volaria’s birth, “I think in this instance we will have to create another identity and background for the witch, much like we would do when hiding marked wizards and witches in the past. She looks very little like Tom, except in facial shape. Instead of Volaria Riddle, how about…Volaria Ruddle?”

Hermione looked at Volaria, who looked very pleased with this idea.

“I like it,” she said, smiling.

Who would have thought people could be so kind? She didn’t know what to expect when she left the stronghold, but it appeared the fates were on her side. Then her face darkened.

“What if Aunt Bella comes after me?” she asked the Headmaster.

”Bellatrix LeStrange wouldn’t dare come to Hogwarts,” Hermione assured her, a black look on her face. “If she did, she’d never leave.”

Hermione spoke with such venom, that Severus looked at her in surprise. Then he gave a bit of a smirk. It seemed as if someone hadn’t gotten over a little tryst that happened decades ago.

This seemed to reassure Volaria.

“We will need to have her sorted first,” Albus said, rising and turning to pick the Sorting Hat up off the shelf. It immediately became animated.

“What do we have here?” the hat said, bending its tip toward Volaria, “Ah, a new student. I feel great power. Place me on her head.”

Severus stiffened. Great power?

The young witch rose and Albus walked from around his desk and placed the old hat on Volaria’s blonde head. The hat sat there a moment.

“Quite powerful. This one has strong magic…and a lust for the acquisition of knowledge, and a desire to prove herself. Very independent…and very intelligent. There is a twinge of darkness, but not too much…directed towards self-preservation rather than conquest. She will protect herself but has a deep respect for life. She has courage, but it is tempered with logic. No hot-headed acts from this witch. She will weigh everything. She would best be placed in Ravenclaw,” the hat said firmly.

Albus removed the hat from Volaria’s head and replaced it on the shelf.

Severus stared at the witch.

“She will have to be tested to see her level of magical knowledge,” he said.

”That’s not a problem Severus. Hogwarts’ has several evaluation tests for just that purpose. I just need someone to administer them…” the Headmaster began, cutting his twinkling blue eyes at Hermione.

“I’ll do it!” Hermione gushed, nearly bouncing in her seat. Volaria smiled at her.

Severus was reminded of Hermione as a student, bouncing in her seat and wildly waving her hand to be called on to answer a question. It was annoying then and annoying now.

“In addition, we will have to come up with documentation for her…a dummied birth certificate to be filed at the Ministry. We really don’t want them involved with this however…they are as leaky as a sieve,” the Headmaster said darkly, “No doubt Kingsley and Tonks can handle placing the proper paperwork in the proper places.”

Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks were both Aurors and loyal members of the Order of the Phoenix. They had done such things before.

“I believe we will have to use the “Orphan” scenario to protect her. I will contact the Headmistress of the Little Flower Orphanage, Brumhilda Huffle. She will take care of everything,” Albus said. Brumhilda was also an Order member from way back.

“Her wand will have to be registered,” Severus said, looking at the witch.

“But I don’t have a wand,” Volaria said, looking at the pale wizard, then at Albus and Hermione.

“No wand?” Hermione asked, amazed, “Didn’t Bella give you a wand?”

”I never needed one,” Volaria said simply.

Severus arched an eyebrow at her.

“Demonstrate a spell for us,” the Potions Master said, “Make a quill from the Headmaster’s desk fly to you.”

Volaria looked at the Headmaster’s desk and saw a number of quills resting in a tall cup. She crooked a finger at it, thought “Accio quill” and a quill flew out of the container, landing neatly in her hand.

“Wandless,” Hermione breathed, “And non-verbal. Amazing.”

Severus thought it a good thing that Volaria had no designs on becoming a despot. Wandless magic would have aided her immensely in that respect. Unfortunately, witches and wizards who could do wandless magic had to be registered with the Ministry just as Animagi were, which Volaria also was.

Severus and Albus looked at each other as the witch walked over and put the quill back in the cup then returned to her seat.

“Kingsley and Tonks,” they both said, turning their eyes on Volaria. Legitimizing this young witch would require quite a bit of covert legal manipulation. But it had been done before.

It would be done again.

“Now, where will we keep her until we have everything in place?” Albus asked.

Severus groaned inwardly. He was already having a hard enough time getting pussy from Hermione.

”In my rooms,” Hermione volunteered, just as the Potions Master knew she would. He scowled but didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say.

Bleeding heart Hermione had struck again.

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“Where is she?” Bellatrix LeStrange screeched at the cluster of house elves that stood trembling inside the arena. Two elves lay dead on the ground before them, their insides splattered all over the stone floor.

“I want to know where Volaria is!” Bellatrix screamed at the terrified creatures, who clutched each other in fear, their ears flattened.

They were too scared to respond. Bella had killed the two elves because they answered her in the negative.

Bellatrix forced herself to calm. She couldn’t kill all of them, or she would have no servants. She had searched all over the compound and there was no sign of the young witch, no signature either. Somehow, she had gotten away. She stared at the elves.

“All right. I need answers now. I will not kill any more of you, but you must share Volaria’s secrets with me…I demand it. I am your mistress above any other. Do any of you have an idea how she may have escaped the stronghold? Does it have a weakness I don’t know about? Tell me…or you will all be crucio’d,” the witch said.

The elves all trembled in fright, then, slowly one brown elf moved out of the crowd, shaking all over, his green eyes turned toward the ground.

”The Miss was an animagus, Mistress,” the elf said, its squeaky voice quavering, “I thinks she may have left with the wizard.”

Bellatrix’s eyes widened. Volaria was an animagus and didn’t tell her? Why, the conniving little bitch!

“What kind of creature was she?” the witch asked the elf, trembling with rage.

“A bug, Mistress. A mosquito,” it replied.

Bella stood there for a moment, then blasted the house elf to bits in her rage.

“GET OUT! ALL OF YOU!” she screamed at the others.

They all disappeared in an instant.

Breathing heavily, Bellatrix stood in the arena, furious. The witch had escaped her. Bella had underestimated her. Volaria was smarter than she’d ever dreamed. Bella had planned on using Voltaire to dispose of her. She wasn’t needed any longer.

“Damn it!” the witch seethed, storming from the arena.

Volaria had to be with Severus, and the wizard had no way to contact her or bring the girl back. Volaria knew too much, she could ruin everything if she told the wrong people about Voltaire before he claimed the throne. This didn’t give her much time.

She should have killed Volaria when she first showed her weakness. Now she was a problem.

A big problem.

Bella needed to reach Severus. She didn’t dare send a message to Hogwarts. She walked through the arena into the stronghold proper and toward Jordan’s quarters, her eyes flashing.

She threw open his door. The wizard was giving Voltaire a bit of water, the boy resting on a cot. Two house elves stood trembling in the corner, still traumatized from the witch’s reaction to Volaria escaping. Jordan looked up at the witch and the look on her face made his blood run cold.

Bella stalked over to the cot and looked down on Voltaire.

“How is he?” she asked

“In great pain. I’ve given him some pain potion, but periodically he goes into small seizures,” Jordan replied, his brown eyes a bit glazed as he looked at the witch. She was angry…and when she was angry, she found ways to release that anger. Painful, humiliating ways.

”Is he in any mortal danger?” Bella asked the wizard.

Jordan wanted to lie and say yes so he would have to stay with the young wizard, but the truth was Voltaire wasn’t in any immediate danger.

”No,” the wizard replied with a sigh.

Bella looked at Jordan, then the house elves.

“Attend Voltaire,” she said to them imperiously, “Jordan, you come with me.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he said resignedly as the house elves looked at him sympathetically. They knew what the Mistress put him through when she was angry.

Bella strode from the wizard’s rooms and toward her playroom, Jordan following meekly behind.

He hoped she wouldn’t use the clamps.

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Eloise Hedgeberry sat at the candy counter reading a book called “Legendary Creatures: Myth and Reality. Of course she was on the chapter about werewolves.

Killing werewolves that is.

According to the book, silver would kill a werewolf. Unfortunately, Eloise found she couldn’t handle silver…quite by accident. Like most people, her utensil drawer was filled with mismatched forks, knives and spoons. She reached in for a fork one night and picked up a silver one and burned her hand badly. Boils formed and burst and it was extremely painful, continuing to burn long after she had dropped the fork. About an hour later, however, her hand was fully healed. Experimentally she tried using rubber gloves but still was burned, though not as badly as the first time. Silver wasn’t a good idea.

Then there was destroying the heart or brain, but she would have to cut the heart out and burn it, otherwise it would heal. The same thing for the brain, but it was simpler. Smashing a werewolf in the head with great force would stop a werewolf just like any other creature, then the head would have to be cut off and destroyed.

Eloise believed she could easily cut Fenrir’s head off. She hated him just that much for what he had done to her. But he was huge. How could she do it? Perhaps she could catch him off guard the next full moon. It would have to be after she transformed back, maybe when he was sleeping she could slip out of his grasp, find a large stone in the cave and bash his head in with it. Still, that would leave the problem of cutting his head off. Plus, how would she get back to London?

A woman approached the counter with a box of chocolate. Eloise took care of her quickly, her nostrils flared as she smelled cats on the woman. She growled a little, the woman looking at her startled as Eloise handed her change. The customer quickly exited the store.

Eloise hadn’t even noticed she growled.

She went back to the book and read a bit more. It also said a werewolf could be killed by something that damaged the brain or heart irrevocably, such as hanging, where the body is deprived of oxygen for a long period of time. It couldn’t heal without oxygen. If she managed to hang Fenrir and left him swinging for a couple of hours, that would take care of him but good. But damn, how could she manage that? He certainly wasn’t going to stand under a tree and let her put a noose around his thick neck. Eloise sighed.

She knew her only chance to kill Fenrir depended on her embracing her werewolf form, so she could be cognizant of her activities and able to think clearly. From the scratches she’d left on his face, she was very powerful in her werewolf form. Maybe she could kill him when transformed…rip his heart out and consume it. It seemed fitting.

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While riding the tube home, Eloise caught a scent that made her hair stand up. It was a faint scent…but familiar…in a bad way. But she was compelled to investigate it.

She stood up and began to make her way through the train, moving toward the front of the car, sniffing, a growl low in her throat. The scent grew stronger and rage began to grow inside her. She stopped about ten feet away from an older man reading a newspaper. She stared at him.

The man must have felt her. He looked up suddenly and met her eyes. He looked to be in his early fifties, clean-cut and in a suit. He had gray eyes, salt and pepper hair and his nose was a bit crooked as if it had been broken a couple of times. He stared at her a moment, then frowned and looked back down at his newspaper.

Eloise continued to stare at him, the other passengers noticing and looking at her oddly.

Eloise continued to stare at the man, who grew uncomfortable and rose, getting off at the next stop. She was tempted to follow him, but didn’t know why she disliked him so much. She didn’t like his smell, that was for certain. It did something unpleasant to her.

But then again, she had felt that way about several people she had come in contact with, not liking their odor for one reason or another, but this was the first time she felt like confronting someone because of the way they smelled. As the door closed, the man looked back at her, still frowning. Eloise craned her head to continue watching him as the train pulled away.

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That night, Eloise tossed and turned in her bed as an old nightmare returned to her. She was walking up a dimly lit hallway, age twenty again, letting herself into her first flat. She had just got the door opened when she was pushed roughly inside and the door slammed behind her. A man with a bandana tied around the lower half of his face pounced on her, punching her in the mouth when she screamed.

“Shut up, slut!” he hissed at her, “Or I swear to God I’ll kill you!”

He pushed Eloise into her living room and told her to sit down on the sofa and not to move. He then began to rummage through the flat. Eloise thought about bolting for the door, but if she didn’t make it, she’d be dead…she knew it. So she sat there, scared to move, listening as the masked man rambled through her things.

Presently he came back, his eyes full of anger.

“You don’t have shit here,” he seethed at her.

”I…I don’t make much money. I can barely afford this place…” she began.

“Did I ask you for your fucking life story?” he snarled at her.

Eloise didn’t say anything else.

The man stood there, then his eyes washed over her slowly.

“You’re a pretty little bird,” he said, licking his lips, “This doesn’t have to be a total waste.”

Eloise screamed in her sleep as she relived the brutal rape and beating she went through on her living room couch.

But in the dream, she kept seeing his eyes.

Gray eyes…gray eyes and a crooked nose…

Suddenly Eloise leapt up out of her sleep, her eyes becoming black-veined as she snarled viciously. She knew who the man was on the train now.

Her rapist. She subconsciously remembered his scent.

She had to find him…find him and punish him.

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A/N: Welcome to Hogwarts, Volaria. Poor Severus. No nookie for him. Bella is one nasty piece of work….poor house elves…poor Jordan. Eloise is doing her homework as far as Fenrir is concerned, and now…she’s recognized the man who raped her years ago. What’s going to happen there? Ooh, we’ll have to find out later. Thanks for reading.