Tomorrow

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Captivity

Harry made his way downstairs quietly. He’d deliberately waited until the meeting had convened to make an entrance, hopefully unnoticed. He opened the door to the library where the Order had gathered and slipped inside. He closed the door quietly and, instead of taking a chair, slid down the wall and sat on the floor. This tactic had worked the day before, the day he’d first abandoned his self-imposed exile.

“They’re becoming bolder and more ruthless by the day,” reported Tonks. “There has been an increase in the number of people reported as missing in both the Wizard and Muggle press.” She frowned in confusion at her next bit of information. “At the same time, we’ve not seen the Dark Mark over many sites recently. We don’t know why.”

“Do we know who’s gone missing?” asked Hermione.

Tonks turned to Shacklebolt, who was still acting as the Prime Minister’s secretary. “All of the disappearances have been treated as kidnapping cases. In fact, there have been demands for ransoms in several of the Muggle cases and five of the Wizarding cases. I’ve coordinated our data with Scotland Yard. The ransom notes appear to be coming from the same source.”

“That makes no sense,” said Minerva.

“Actual it does,” replied Shacklebolt. “The Muggles who have been taken are either related to Wizarding folk or in a position to affect our world. The Wizarding families affected are either wealthy or in a position of influence.”

Hermione and Remus perused a list of names encompassing the families affected. They both paused over the last name and looked at each other.

“Kingsley,” began Remus. “This last woman was taken only yesterday afternoon.”

Shacklebolt nodded. “Yes, she was actually only reported early this morning. The man who passed on the information was more annoyed that his gout potion had not been delivered, apparently. I’m not familiar with the name.” He frowned in consternation. “This case is an odd one out, as well. The family has no particular importance in our society, nor are they wealthy. We can’t figure out the reason behind her disappearance.”

“I recall something about this name,” announced Hermoine. “I found it when I was doing some research on something that Harry had found in a text, during our sixth year. Wasn’t Prince the maiden name of Severus Snape’s mother?”

“Sweet Merlin, you’re right, Hermione,” declared Minerva, holding her hand to her chest suddenly realizing the connection. “He never said he had any living family, as I recall.”

“What do we know about the Prince line?” asked Harry, suddenly taking an interest.

McGonagall shook her head. “I know next to nothing about them except they were, at one time, quite influential in Pureblood circles. I never met a Prince while I was at school and there was only one other student I remember with that name.” Minerva frowned as she tried to remember her students of days past. “It’s quite sad actually, I can’t even picture her. Yes, it was a girl. She was in Hufflepuff house, but I know she never finished her schooling.”

“You didn’t know Snape’s Mother?” asked Harry.

“No,” replied Minerva. “She had finished school before I returned to teach.” She eyed Harry as he was about to ask another question. “Potter, let’s finish up with the meeting, then we’ll sit down over tea and talk.”

For a moment, Harry looked as if he had intended to object, but backed down from her glare.

“Yes, of course professor,” replied Harry, returning to his seat on the floor to wait.

“It appears we have a mystery on our hands, but in the meantime, Kingsley has come up with a list of names for those whom we feel may be threatened next.” Minerva looked around. “We’ll try to convince some of them to go into hiding and, as much as possible, provide protection to those who won’t.”

“What about Aurors?” asked Ron. “Shouldn’t they be out there protecting these people too?”

Shacklebolt nodded his head. “And they are, Ron, but they also have the task of trying to find those who are missing.”

Remus stood and faced the meeting. “We’ve come up with a roster and we’ll be sending out people to meet with those on our threatened list. Harry, Ron and Hermione will not be included in this operation. They have other tasks to perform, which we can’t discuss. See Tonks and Kingsley for your assignment. Thank you.”

“I’d say we’re adjourned,” announced Minerva. She nodded to Harry, Ron and Hermione, asking them to remain.

As the door shut after the last Order member left, the three youths joined McGonagall and Lupin to sit by the fire. There was a lot to discuss.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Caitlin sat close to the ingle, where a fire burnt listlessly in the hearth, seeking warmth from the only source in the draughty room. She and Snape had arrived some time during the night – she had no way of telling what time it was. After offering her the outhouse as the only convenience, he had brought her into what appeared to be a deserted farmhouse, sat her on the stool, warded the door and ignored her. He disappeared into another room where he appeared to begin working on the preparation of the potions ingredients.

The wind whistled through the shuttered windows and rustled the thatched roof. It only emphasized the isolation that Caitlin was feeling. She pulled her transfigured cloak closer about her shoulders and leaned on the wall. Suddenly, her stomach growled loudly, complaining about the lack of a recent meal.

“Can you cook Muggle-style?” asked Snape from behind her.

Caitlin started at his sudden question. “Uhm, yes... that is we had a Muggle gas cooker and I used it.”

“So you don’t know how to use a hearth and grate?”

Caitlin shook her head.

“Well, you’d better learn or you’ll be rather hungry for some time to come.” Snape looked at her one last time then opened a cupboard door. He pulled out a hanging pot, not unlike a cauldron. From a large tin box sitting on the sideboard, he pulled out a loaf of bread. Finally, he opened the larder and pulled out tinned Muggle soup.

Caitlin looked at the food on the table with surprise.

“What? Do you think I have time to spend in culinary pursuits?” he asked her, a look of dark humour showing through his normal glower.

“Yes, I mean, no, I mean... it’s just so... so... normal.” Caitlin didn’t know what to expect next.

Snape began opening the tinned soup and poured it into the pot then pulled out his wand.. “Aguamenti.” A stream of water poured from his wand into the cans which were then poured into pot. “It’s condensed soup,” he told her at her frown.

“Oh. I’ve never had Muggle food. My grandfather forbade me to buy it. I always cooked from scratch. I don’t know how to use this.” She indicated the cans.

Snape sniffed as he brought the pot to the fire. “Pure-blooded snobbery. I’ve no time or energy to waste on cooking. This suffices and tastes better than a conjured repast.”

Caitlin watched as he stirred the soup in the pot, hanging from the crane he’d swung over the fire. The feeling of being out of her element settled about her once more. She’d been kidnapped, threatened with rape and murder, yet here she stood complacently watching her captor cook a meal. She shook her head.

“How long am I going to be here?” she demanded, suddenly.
Snape glanced back at her for a moment. “Until you are not needed.”

“Will I be going home?” She asked with a glimmer of hope, only to have it dashed.

“I told you, you will be here until you are no longer needed. What happens then?” he shrugged his shoulders.

Caitlin felt her fear roiling to the surface once more. “Why?” she demanded, “Why am I here? I told them I knew nothing – that I wouldn’t say anything. Why did they have to take me?” She began to pace. “He doesn’t want me, not really. I do the work of a house elf. He just didn’t want his name sullied by the idea that he’d cast out his only supposed heir.”

Caitlin swung back and crouched beside Snape. She grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at her. “He’s not rich, you know. He won’t part with a knut for me.” Snape turned to her and looked into her forlorn eyes. “Please, I’m useless to you. Please,” she sobbed, “please, let me go.”

With a jerk of his arm, Snape knocked her back onto her backside. He turned back to the soup before speaking. “Your pleading changes nothing. I am not in control. It is as I have set before you.”

Snape rose to his full height and leaned over her. “I will, however, give you a choice.” He looked at her as though she was a specimen in a jar. “You may stay as a reluctant guest and enjoy my meagre hospitality, with all due gratitude, or you can be my prisoner and be chained to the wall.” He watched as she weighed her choices.

“Gratitude?” she asked in a whisper.

At this, Snape laughed then reached out and grabbed her arm. “Let me demonstrate.” He pulled her to the fireplace and conjured a chain attached to the wall at one end. The opposite end had a manacle attached, which he snapped around her wrist.

“There,” he told her as he pulled a stool closer to the fire. He summoned a bucket and left it within reach. “You’ve experienced my hospitality as a host. Now, experience it as I become your jailor.” He pointed at the bucket. “Behold your midden, for in jail you are not free to visit the convenience at will.” He conjured a crust of bread. “Voila! Your repast -- a crust of stale bread.” He stood close to her and pulled her head back by grasping her hair. “Make your choice, visitor or prisoner?”

Caitlin was trembling. She hadn’t realized she’d become complacent in his company until now. This was not the man who’d opened Muggle tinned soup. This was the high ranking Death Eater who’d kept her from the rabble, but who was still a servant of He Who Must Not Be Named.

“Please, sir, I would like to be your visitor. I... I promise, I will be most grateful.”

Snape released her. “We shall see. Stir the soup and don’t let it burn.” He pushed her onto the stool and removed the bucket. “Let me know when you require the... convenience.” With a sour smirk, he left her alone by the fire to contemplate her future.