Star Sisters

Chapter XXXIV: Pruning

After a somewhat hasty breakfast and a surprised, ‘What are you doing up this early?’ from her mother, Charis caught the coach to London the following Wednesday at seven in the morning and arrived in Hammersmith at just past ten. She had arranged to meet Jack at Tower Records in Piccadilly at eleven, where they spent the morning happily browsing through thousands of CDs. Charis bought Logical Progression mixed by LTJ Bukem, whereas Jack plumped for Second Toughest in the Infants by Underworld.

From there, they decided to have lunch in Diagon Alley, after replenishing their Galleons at Gringotts, and spent a happy hour milling around the various shops, Flourish & Blotts being a particular favourite. A store full of books was like paradise for the two Ravenclaws, and had they had the money, they would have bought ten books each. But alas, neither of them were rich. Still, Jack furtively bought a booklet called Teaching Your Cat Magic and smuggled it into Charis’ bag outside the store, hoping it would make his friend smile when she found it.

Fatigued from their shopping, they then had a well-deserved ice cream at Florian Fortescue’s. Charis loved the Ice Cream Parlour. If she could have chosen one shop from Diagon Alley to have a branch in the Muggle world, she would most probably pick Fortescue’s. There was so much to choose from: good old favourites like vanilla, mint chocolate chip and fudge, but also magical flavours like frozen Chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream, Ice Mice and frozen Chocolate Frogs. Not to mention all kinds of lollypops, some which made you blow bubbles when you belched and others which guaranteed a different flavour with every lick. Charis took her time to pick her flavours, but Jack quickly opted for vanilla sprinkled with Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans.

By the time Charis had devoured her delicious Double Cream Vanilla with miniature Chocoballs and fought off Jack, whose flavour – to his great dismay – had turned out to be earwax, it was well after three. Charis quickly bought Jack a frozen bat-shaped lolly to lift his spirits, and off they went to the Wizarding Office of Registration Materials, or WORM for short, as the big plaque at the entrance stated grandly.

‘WORM?’ Charis frowned. ‘I do understand the need to shorten the name, but could they not have come up with something a little bit nicer?’

‘It gets even better,’ Jack explained. ‘The Wizarding Office of Registration Materials is known affectionately as The Worm Hole. It’s rumoured that disgraced Ministry employees are sent to work here.’ Then his voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Those who behave really badly even get Transfigured into worms.’

‘Oh, come on, Jack!’ Charis exclaimed. ‘They wouldn’t ...’

Jack grinned. ‘It’s true, I swear! Look there’s one trying to get out.’

Charis looked down and sure enough there was an earthworm wriggling at her feet.

‘Hope that’s not the clerk who was supposed to get our documents.’ Once more, Jack laughed and then opened the door. ‘My lady,’ he said and bowed. ‘Welcome to The Worm Hole.’

Charis was not sure what she had been expecting, but a cramped, shabby little room had somehow not featured in her thoughts. She looked around tentatively, noting how the olive-green walls clashed rather violently with the swirling orange and brown carpet. Charis felt she could not look at the carpet for too long as it was making her feel quite nauseous.

Behind the counter sat a stocky middle-aged woman, scribbling away on a parchment with a speckled quill. She had the kind of rinsed hair that only rebellious teenagers or old women could get away with, in a shade of light pink. The style, Charis thought, was reminiscent of the Muggle Queen, Elizabeth II. The woman wore fuchsia lipstick on her thin, lined mouth, which was pursed in concentration as she wrote and reminded Charis somewhat unfortunately of a cat’s bottom.

The woman did not look up as Jack and Charis approached the counter. In front of her was a brass name plaque, bearing the name Mimi Abagrow, alongside a big, domed, shiny, brass bell with a button on the top.

Jack and Charis looked at each other, before Charis hesitantly cleared her throat to try and get Mimi Abagrow’s attention. Still, the woman did not look up.

Jack decided to try a more forthright approach. ‘Good afternoon, Ms Abagrow,’ he started politely, smiling at the woman.

Once more, Ms Abagrow continued ignoring the pair, pausing only to swiftly point her quill at the large brass bell before continuing to scribble away.

Jack and Charis gazed at each other with disbelief. The woman clearly knew they were there, they were the only people in the room, for Merlin’s sake, and yet she wanted them to ring the bell for assistance! Feeling bemused by the woman’s rudeness, Jack leaned forwards and, in an exaggerated manner, struck the bell, which rang out loudly.

Eventually, the woman raised her head to look at the pair. She looked bored, and vaguely irritated to be interrupted from her work. ‘Can I help you?’ she asked impatiently.

‘Er, yes... my name is Charis Byrne and this is Jack Morrissey, and we wrote to you last week concerning a marriage and birth certificate that we would like copies of, and your letter said we need to collect them personally from you,’ Charis said breathlessly.

Ms Abagrow continued to stare at them, her bored expression never changing. ‘The letter,’ she sighed, holding out her hand.

Charis retrieved the letter from her bag and smoothed it out hurriedly, before handing it over to the woman’s still-outstretched hand. She hurriedly snatched the letter from Charis and began to read.

After muttering to herself whilst skimming through the letter, her head snapped up again. ‘I’ll need to see your identification,’ she sniffed.

‘The letter is addressed to us!’ Jack began, already losing patience with the rude woman in front of him. ‘You were the one that wrote the letter!’

‘I don’t make the rules,’ she replied wearily. ‘No ID, no certificates.’

Jack breathed heavily through his nose as both he and Charis turned out their bags and pockets and handed over their Muggle bank cards and their Gringotts cards, the only form of ID they both had on them.

The woman eyed the cards suspiciously for some time, turning them over in her hands. ‘Well, I supposed this will do,’ she answered reluctantly, pushing them back across the counter at the pair. ‘Wait here.’

She huffed and puffed as she got up from her seat and made her way over to a shelf where she began riffling through envelopes, once more muttering to herself. Jack and Charis exchanged glances, with Jack pulling an incredibly rude face at Ms Abagrow whilst her back was turned. Charis had to cover her mouth with her hands in case she snorted with laughter. The last thing they needed was the woman scolding them or withholding the certificates.

After what seemed like an age, Ms Abagrow returned with a plain manila envelope which had the name Callista Byrne printed on it in curly handwriting. She placed a piece of yellowing parchment under their noses and thrust the speckled quill at them. ‘Signatures,’ she demanded.

Jack glared at her and snatched the quill and parchment from her and scrawled his signature quickly before handing the quill over to Charis. Only when the quill and parchment had been returned did Ms Abagrow hand over the manila envelope. Charis took it and thanked her politely, but she had already resumed scrawling away and had reverted back to pretending they weren’t there.

‘Bloody hell, that woman was a complete worm!’ Jack exclaimed once they were outside. ‘Could she have been any more officious and unhelpful? And what kind of name is Mimi Abagrow anyway?’

‘Well, we have the certificates now,’ Charis replied, relieved to be out of the dingy little office. ‘Let’s sit down at the Cockatrice Cafe and open them together.’

Choosing a booth near the back, Jack and Charis ordered a pumpkin juice each and shifted so they were sitting next to each other, the manila envelope on the table in front of them.

‘Are you ready?’ Jack asked softly.

Charis nodded, and taking a deep breath, they opened the envelope. They both grabbed a corner of one of the certificates and pulled it slowly out.

Neither of them had a chance to see what was written on it however, as the certificate began glowing a bright blue, and before either of them knew what was happening, it felt as if they were being jerked forwards by the navel. There was a rushing sound of air as the cafe dissolved from below them and they began spinning, unable to let go of the certificate in their hands.

* * *
They landed on their stomachs on the damp forest ground with a thud that knocked the air out of them, each of them still holding on to a corner of the certificate. For some moments, neither of them was capable of movement or coherent thoughts. What by Hades had just happened?

‘Haven’t we seen those two before?’ a gruff, male voice came from the shadows.

Charis’ heart skipped a beat. She knew that low, menacing growl. But from where? Tentatively she turned her head just an inch to venture a peek.

‘Eyes to the ground, Mudblood,’ someone shouted, and Charis felt a spell hit her cheek that felt like a slap. But the sting lingered, and she squeezed her tearing eyes shut.

‘Now, have we seen them before or not?’ There was that voice again.

‘Oh, we’ve seen ‘em before, alright. That time they ‘ad been loiterin’ ‘round a dark alley and got a couple of our mates locked up. You’d think Ravenclaws were smarter than that.’

A shudder went down Charis’ spine. Of course! That gruff voice belonged to one of the Death Eaters she and Jack had run into in Hogsmeade that day they had been to Madam Meow’s. Snape and Dumbledore had come to their rescue and sent two of them to Azkaban. Was this some kind of retaliation?

Before she could think about it anymore, Charis found herself being roughly pulled to her feet by a hooded figure. Her first impulse was to stamp on the feet of whoever was holding her and then plant a nice hit in their solar plexus, but she was unable to move either her arms or legs. And by the looks of it, Jack had been hit by the same immobilising spell.

‘Hello there, little babies. So glad you could join our party.’

Bellatrix Lestrange was using a sickly babyish voice, her head tilted slightly to the side, and was now looking at Jack and Charis like a Kneazle looks at a cornered mouse. She was the only Death Eater that was not wearing a mask. Obviously, she wanted the two teenagers to know who she was.

‘I’m afraid there is no tea or cake.’ She gave a screech of a laugh at this, delighted with her little joke.

‘Doesn’t seem much of a party to me then,’ Jack muttered under his breath.

Bella’s eyes flashed dangerously, but her voice was sweet as Honeyduke’s finest when she spoke again.

‘Tut, tut, little bloodtraitor. I know one cannot expect much of your mother, but I had hoped your father would have taught you some manners at least. Only speak when spoken to, little one.’

She did not even need to utter the curse. Crucio was one of her best; she could cast it silently and with closed eyes if need be. But why would she close her eyes? Seeing the boy twitch in agony on the forest ground was such a lovely sight.

‘Make him stand up again,’ she instructed her fellow Death Eater imperiously once she had lifted the curse and Jack had stopped twitching.

The Death Eater roughly pulled Jack up by his robes and held on to him tightly. Bella approached the boy slowly, leaning in to his face and whispering sweetly, ‘From now on, we will only speak when spoken to, won’t we?’

Then she turned to Charis. ‘Do you have any idea why you have been invited to the party, little Mudblood?’

There it was again, that sickeningly sweet smile. If that woman weren’t Bellatrix Lestrange and had she not just seen her torture her best friend, Charis could actually have believed that Bella was being nice. But reality was another matter, and Charis wisely opted for keeping her mouth shut.

Bella huffed. ‘Really, you Ravenclaws are a disappointment. The rule Speak only when spoken to implies answering when given a question. But then again, how could your little Mudblood brain understand a concept as difficult as that?’

From nowhere, a wave of pain washed over Charis, and she fell to the ground. It felt as if someone were tearing at her flesh with hot irons and simultaneously crushing her bones. But what was even worse was Bellatrix’s hysterical cackle. It reminded Charis of the shrieking sound of a circular saw, and it seemed to be cutting into her very brain. She lay on the damp forest ground, her muscles twitching uncontrollably. The pain was excruciating. She had burnt her hand on a cauldron in her third year. The pain was the same, but not just on her skin. It seemed to be in her bones, in the very marrow, and prevented her from moving. She did not know if she was screaming or not, but someone else’s voice cut through the pain.

‘Charis!’

Jack’s voice was filled with urgency but was at once drowned in Bella’s shrill shriek. ‘YOU DON’T GET IT, DO YOU?! You are not supposed to talk!’

Shut up, Jack. Please, shut up. I beg you! Silently, deep inside her mind, Charis repeated her plea over and over again, hoping against hope that Jack would somehow hear her. He needed to be quiet. Bellatrix would be angry with him. She would surely punish him.

The liberating sensation of the curse being lifted from her made Charis dizzy, and she saw the treetops dance around her. Faster and faster they spun, and Charis felt her stomach turn and retched, digging her nails into the soft moss. Bellatrix’s deranged laughter and Jack’s screams of agony were the last things she heard before she passed out.

Bella meanwhile was having the time of her life. The little bloodtraitor was twitching in pain but couldn’t fall to the ground since Carrow and Yaxley were holding him by the shoulders like two vices. One particularly violent twitch actually made his shoulder pop. Here and there, blood started to colour his shirt and trousers. It happened sometimes during Crucio that the bones twisted so violently that the skin broke.

Toughie, that one, Bella thought. She had been bombarding the little bloodtraitor with alternating curses for about ten minutes now. She had seen grown men faint for far less. It would almost be a shame to kill him…

* * *

Charis’ nostrils filled with the smell of moss. What was she doing in the forest? And why was she lying on the ground? Then she identified another smell, the sour reek of vomit and ... What was that sharp, metallic tang? Blood?

She was on her feet in a blink of an eye, and her hand shot automatically to her pocket to pull out her wand. But it wasn’t there.

‘Looking for this, little one?’ Bella was waving Charis’ wand in front of her nose. Again, there was that sickeningly sweet smile on her face. ‘Ash tree, is it? Who would have thought? Wonder what’s inside?’

She snapped the wand right in two, as easily as a twig, and Charis flinched and gasped. Seeing her wand being broken almost created a kind of physical pain. The wand had been with her for nearly seven years; she had never once let it out of her sight and she even slept with it under her pillow. It was a precious reminder of the gift of magic she had been blessed with and symbolic of her powers, as much as a tool with which to harness them. It was like an extension of her. She watched and moaned with grief as the wood splintered easily and the Unicorn hair core fizzed and sparkled slightly before Bellatrix threw the now-useless wand to one side.

Bellatrix tutted. ‘Don’t give me that look, little Mudblood. It’s not like you’ll ever need your little wand again anyway. Let me show you how real witches use their wands instead.’

A big ball of what appeared to be silvery string erupted from Bellatrix’ wand. It looked beautiful at first, and Charis stared at the ball as if hypnotised as it rolled towards her, unable to take her eyes off it, unable to move. She could not even scream as she realised that the supposed silvery string was in fact something that resembled barbed wire as it started coiling itself around her wrists and ankles like a snake.

Her stomach knotted in fear as she felt her feet leave the ground, but still Charis was unable to scream, just as she was unable to shed the tears that filled her eyes when she caught sight of Jack. Suspended in mid-air, held up by Bella’s magical barbed wire that cut into her flesh, all Charis could do was look down at her friend, who lay sprawled out on the forest ground, his clothes bloody and his face contorted with pain. She did not even know whether he was still alive.

Charis felt a tickling sensation in her throat and started coughing. And suddenly, she was also very much aware of the pain the barbed wire caused as it cut into her flesh. Whatever spell she had been under had lost its effect or had been lifted.

‘Now, little Mudblood,’ Bellatrix started with a sugary tone that suggested that she was about to offer cake. ‘What should we do with you?’

We? Charis’ eyes widened in fear. How could she have forgotten about the other Death Eaters that had held her and Jack while Bellatrix had thrown Crucios at them? They were standing around Bellatrix now in a semi circle, and although they were wearing masks, Charis could imagine their sneers as they looked up at her.

The first spell that hit Charis felt like a poke in the ribs with an elbow.

Bellatrix huffed. ‘Seriously, is that the best you can do?’

The Death Eater to her left drew himself up to his full height and pointed his wand at Charis once more. This time, the spell knocked the air out of her and drove tears into her eyes.

‘More, come on!’ Bellatrix screeched. ‘That won’t even leave a bruise.’

The third spell cracked a rib, and Charis yelped, but still Bellatrix was not happy. ‘I don’t understand why the Dark Lord puts up with such incompetent idiots like you. Let me show you how it’s done.’

She tilted her head to the side and brought the tip of her wand to her pursed lips. She reminded Charis of a little schoolgirl who was contemplating an essay topic. But of course, Bellatrix Lestrange had darker thoughts than that. Eventually, her lips curled into a smile, and her eyes started to glitter. ‘Yes, that will do. That will do very nicely.’

Charis tried not to scream but it was in vain. The pain that shot through her as Bellatrix cast a spell that felt as if she were slicing up Charis’ legs with a red-hot knife was too much to bear. Charis screamed, and Bellatrix cackled, and the Death Eaters laughed.

Suddenly, everything was over. The pain was gone, and as Charis looked down, she did not see any blood.

‘Why did you heal her?’ one of the Death Eaters asked roughly, as if she was somehow stupid.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. ‘Because otherwise she would bleed to death, you blistering idiot! And I am not quite done with her just yet.’

She stepped forwards and poked Charis’ left shoe with her wand. ‘Can you hear me, little Mudblood?’ she called in a sing-song voice.

Charis resisted the urge to kick the dark witch in the face. By now she was convinced that she would not survive this afternoon, but if she had to die, she hoped to die quickly. Enraging Bellatrix Lestrange would result in anything but a quick death.

‘Tell me, Mudblood, smart Ravenclaw as you are, do you know why you were invited to this little party?’

Charis silently shook her head. She did not dare utter a sound.

‘How utterly disappointing!’

Bellatrix turned and walked away, lazily flicking her wand over her shoulder. The barbed wire disappeared and Charis fell to the ground. She landed face first and heard the sickening sound of the bones in her nose cracking. She felt herself roughly turned onto her back and all she could see were blinding white stars as she felt hot blood gushing from her broken nose. Then Bellatrix’s face came into focus again.

‘Weren’t you warned, Mudblood?’ she asked slowly, making each poisoned word sound like a honey-dipped caress. ‘Weren’t you warned that sticking your Ravenclaw beak in to subjects that are best left undisturbed would lead to serious trouble?’

Charis shuddered. Bellatrix was using the exact same words Lucius Malfoy had used in Ravenclaw Tower. So, this was not retaliation after all?

Charis never managed to finish her thought as there was once more a searing pain shooting through her legs. But this time, it didn’t stop. This time, she could feel the blood trickle down over her thighs.

‘Little baby,’ came Bellatrix’ sweet voice as she stalked towards Charis once more, and she even brushed a tear from Charis’ cheek with her fingers as she drew close. ‘Do you want it to stop?’

‘Yes, yes, please.’ Charis knew that there was no point in begging. Bellatrix Lestrange would never stop. But still she begged. ‘Please, stop.’

‘What was that, Mudblood?’ Bellatrix asked innocently, enjoying the girl's suffering and pleading as she twirled a lock of black hair around her index finger. ‘I didn’t hear you. Say it again.’

‘Please, stop.’ Charis hated herself for begging. But what else could she do? She was desperate. ‘Please!’

‘Good girl.’ Once more, Bellatrix brushed Charis’ cheek with her fingers. ‘Soon you won’t feel a thing ... Sectumsempra!’

Charis had never heard that spell before. It sounded awful. But the pain it created was much worse: it was sharp and seemed to split her chest in two; it felt like the skin all over her body was being scraped away from her flesh with a blunt knife.

Bellatrix screeched in delight and the Death Eaters cheered.

‘Morsmordre!’

A flash of green burst forth from Bellatrix’s wand, shooting up a jet of shimmering light which curled round and round, eventually forming the shape of a skull with an entwined snake spilling from its gaping mouth.

Charis didn’t feel pain anymore. Everything seemed to be floating away, even Bellatrix’s hysterical laughter. She felt her body become heavy and imagined herself sinking into the moss as her blood seeped into the ground below her. All sound faded away and so did all the light.

Before her eyes fluttered shut, Charis saw the Dark Mark glowing eerily in the sky. To her, it looked beautiful.

* * *

Snape leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the footrest, smiling contently. He had certainly done his House proud today.

At first, Filius had, of course, stared at him as if he had claimed that the Dark Lord had a liking for pink, fluffy bunnies, but then the Head of Ravenclaw House had almost started levitating with excitement.

‘An Easter egg hunt in Hogsmeade? Severus, that is a wonderful idea! Just imagine how much fun the students will have! The holidays are always a tough time for some of them, especially those who cannot afford to travel home to see their families. Or those who don’t have any family to go home to. Who would have thought that you of all people would come up with such a frivolous pastime?’

Then Filius had hopped away happily, and Snape had sneered after him. He of all people? Whatever did Filius mean? Of course, an idea that resulted in emptying the castle of remaining students and staff alike could only have sprung from a Slytherin mind. So did the idea of faking a headache and staying behind.

And so there was Snape now, the only living creature left in Hogwarts castle that Wednesday afternoon whilst everyone else was gallivanting around Hogsmeade after chocolate eggs. Oh, glorious silence!

With a content sigh, Snape unbuttoned his cuffs and then held out his left arm towards the liquor cabinet. ‘Accio Firewhisky.’ Surely, having come up with such a cunning plan entitled him to a glass of Odgen’s finest.

The bottle crashed to the floor as his arm jerked upwards, and Snape swore loudly. By Merlin’s scrotum, that could not be! Not the Dark Mark! Not today! But there was no doubt. The Dark Mark was burning as if someone had pressed a red-hot iron onto his bare skin. And Snape knew that he could not ignore the call.

Gritting his teeth, he swept into his bedroom, unlocked his heavy trunk and picked up the bundle which contained his cloak and his Death Eater mask. As always, he would not put them on before he had entered the Forbidden Forest. He always Disapparated from there. The risks of being spotted were minimal.

He swept out of his quarters and through the dark dungeon corridor. He had no idea why the Mark was burning. Maybe the Dark Lord wanted to see him personally. Maybe everyone had been called. Maybe it was not Voldemort who was calling at all, but another Death Eater. As usual, he would only find out once he had Apparated and answered the call of the Mark.

He turned a corner so fast that he did not even notice that there was a person rushing towards him, and he cursed as he was almost knocked off his feet. For crying out loud, no one was supposed to be in the castle today!

‘Miss Belakane!’

The girl was pale as a ghost and totally out of breath. She must have run all the way from Hogsmeade just to find him. In her eyes Snape saw a panicky look that reminded him of a trapped animal. Whatever had happened? Surely, Lucius would not have...

When he saw the star at Morgana’s necklace glowing red, the blood froze in Snape’s veins. He knew the spell that had been put on those necklaces. Charis was in danger.

He heard Morgana stammer something about Charis and her friend Jack being in London, but he did not listen. This couldn’t be a coincidence.

He prayed that Charis being in danger had nothing to do with his Mark burning. But he feared that he was hoping against hope as he told Morgana to go straight to her dorm and then fled across the school grounds to the edge of the Forbidden Forest as fast as he could.