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

Chapter 60 ~ Coming to a Head

After Severus made his arrangement with Volaria, he and Draco once again attended the Death Eater competition. It was just as brutal and blood-drenched as that of the week before. Elizabeth and Fenrir did not face off as they’d hope, though each won their competition, Elizabeth’s right arm hanging uselessly and Fenrir losing quite a bit of facial hair from a well cast fire stream spell that enveloped his hairy head in flames. There was also an elimination round that required another wizard to fight twice because of the odd number of competitors. The second time wasn’t a charm and he died a shriveled husk when his challenger cast a spell that took all moisture from his body.

Now six challengers remained and they would face off next weekend, but that left the issue of three survivors, rather than two. Rosier decided that rather than have two of them fight to the death, there would be two runner-ups instead of one. The jeweler secretly hoped that either Fenrir or Elizabeth would fall before the final three were chosen. If the witch and wizard were to face off as the final pair, there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t break the rules and try to kill each other. Well, if either of them did overcome the other, there was always the third runner-up to replace the one vanquished.

The competition didn’t last as long this time and both Draco and Severus left at a fairly early hour, Draco returning to his manor and the Potions Master apparating back to Hogwarts. Bellatrix had attended this event as well, studying the winners carefully. Elizabeth was still in the running…the bitch.

If she were one of the last ones standing, she’d be the first to go. Bella would make sure of it.

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Four days later, Draco sat in his parlor, listening to Malina’s recordings. He had gone down to the studio and had reproductions made of every piece and cover Malina worked on. Her beautiful voice soothed and comforted him. It was a part of the witch he could keep and treasure forever.

He was getting used to being without her…to not collecting her. Malina didn’t sleep with him every night, so her absence was bearable if he took it one night at a time, instead of collectively, instead of seeing her absence as something…forever. Draco could almost imagine the witch at her flat, writing, spending valuable alone time with herself, time she needed to feel whole.

It was a way to deal with missing her. Gods, how he missed her.

A house elf winked in, concern on its face.

“Pardons me, Master,” the elf said, bowing low.

“Yes, Leafear?” Draco said, still focusing on Malina’s dulcet tones.

“What would you likes for dinner, sir?” the creature asked.

“Fish and chips,” he responded.

The house elf looked hesitant, then gathered his courage.

“Master…all you has eaten for the past week is fishes and chips, sir. You needs vegetables. Roughage. Is no good you eats this way, sir,” Leafear said with flattened ears.

Malina loved fish and chips. The greasier, the better.

“I want what I want Leafear. You aren’t a dietician. You are my servant. Bring me what I want,” the wizard said, not looking at the elf, though his inflection full of meaning. He was displeased.

“Yes, Master,” Leafear replied, looking contrite as he bowed and winked out.

”Where you are, there is love,” Malina’s voice sang, “And there I am.”

Draco stared into the flames of the fireplace…remembering.

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Severus was in his study when the wall rose up and Hermione practically burst through the opening.

“I’ve done it!” she cried, running into his study, her face ecstatic, “I’ve created the anti-elixir!”

The wizard was sitting at his desk, working on the end of year exam. He put his pen down, his black eyes cool.

“Congratulations,” he said as the witch bounced about excitedly.

“It was the last pixie that finally responded. The three before took hours to die, but this one…this one survived, Severus. His color is good and he appears hale and hearty…although….” she said hesitatingly.

“Although what?” the Potions Master inquired.

“When I released him back into the enclosure, he began to bully the other pixies. He killed four before I recaptured him,” she admitted.

Severus looked at her.

“The pixie had a taste of power, Hermione. Although you removed that power…the lust to lead, to control…to rule was still there. You didn’t change its inclination,” he said, his dark eyes resting on the witch.

Hermione’s eyes darkened.

”What are you trying to say, Severus?” she asked, her nostrils flared.

She had just had an amazing breakthrough and in her mind, the wizard was trying to ruin it. No, not in her mind…she was just making excuses. He was being straight-forward. But a pixie wasn’t a human being. There was nothing to prove that the basic responses of a pixie which was an instinctual creature would be repeated in a human being with the capacity to think and reason.

“I am saying removing the power doesn’t necessarily mean you’ve removed the urge for dominance,” the Potions Master said quietly. “Do you think you can train the pixies that are changed back to fit into their community?”

Hermione frowned.

“No. They’re pixies. They don’t have the capacity to learn like humans. But…Severus, at least they are restored. I have to do a few more tests, but I am certain I have the physical cure for Voltaire,” she said excitedly, “I just have to adjust the dosage ratio and he can be changed back to a normal wizard.”

“As I said before, Hermione, congratulations,” Severus repeated.

Voltaire would never be “normal” as far as the Potions Master was concerned.

Hermione looked at the wizard for a moment. She knew Severus wasn’t happy about this. He didn’t want Voltaire saved…he wanted him killed. Well, the young wizard wasn’t going to be slaughtered arbitrarily on her watch.

“Thank you,” she said coolly.

She had at least hoped the wizard would come to the lab to see her miracle. But the Potions Master didn’t move. He went back to working on the exam.

Hermione left his study, a bit subdued. The moment the wall slid down, Severus looked up, his eyes glinting. No, he didn’t consider her success a good thing and found for the first time in his life, he wished Hermione had failed.

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Albus, however was delighted and watched with great interest as Hermione fed the snarling little pixie the anti-elixir. The creature stiffened in its restraints, then began to shudder and froth at the mouth terribly.

“Is that supposed to happen?” the Headmaster asked.

Hermione nodded.

“It gets worse before it gets better,” she replied just as black blood burst out of the creature’s nose and mouth, pouring down its chin, on to its torso and down its legs. Albus paled. It was an awful amount of blood for a small creature to lose. The pixie fell still, looking as if it were dead. Suddenly, the purplish color gave way to the familiar blue, the wings lightening as well. The scales covering its body began flaking off and the black nails shortened and changed back to a light blue hue. A few patches of hair appeared on the bald head.

It laid there, its tiny chest rising and falling rapidly. After a few minutes, it opened its eyes. They were no longer crimson but a healthy violet.

“Amazing,” Albus smiled.

Then the pixie’s eyes fell on them and it snarled, fighting its restraints, chittering and hissing at the witch and wizard, hatred clearly in its eyes.

“Hm. It doesn’t appear to have done anything for the creature’s disposition,” Albus observed.

“Yes, they do wake up angry, and can’t be put back into pixie population, but they are cured, Headmaster. I imagine Voltaire won’t be pleased he’s lost his power either,” the witch said as they studied the angry pixie.

“Yes, but he will get used to it. I imagine he will still have his natural talent,” Albus said thoughtfully, “Once he comes to terms with it, we can work on his rehabilitation. Severus believes that next weekend will be the time to take the boy. There will be a competition that will choose the last three opponents. Bella will probably make her move after they are chosen. The Order is prepared, as am I,” Albus said, his eyes dark, “Though I can’t say I am comfortable with Severus concerning this matter. He is very much against us bringing Voltaire to Hogwarts.”

Hermione looked sad.

“I know. Severus has been through so much with Voldemort, he doesn’t want anything connected with him let loose on the world again. He doesn’t want to take the chance we fail at rehabilitating Voltaire. He thinks it would be better to eliminate him completely,” the witch said in a soft voice.

“As a man who has had a second chance, you would think Severus would be more willing for others to benefit as well,” Albus mused.

Hermione didn’t say anything. Severus was hard because his life had been hard, and still was. He had trust issues because he knew how full of lies the world was…hell, he perpetuated lies everyday posing as a Death Eater. He also had to sit through senseless violence and murder, and to him…Voltaire was the epitome of that violence. It was his father who started it…and he wanted to be greater than his father.

Hermione could understand how Severus felt, but if they could save Voltaire and put him on the right path, he might somehow find a way to make up for the evil his father did. At least he’d have a chance to try.

Everyone deserved a chance.

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”Are you sure, Bella?” Voltaire asked the witch kneeling before his throne.

“Yes, my Lord. You will claim your throne this weekend. There will only be three would-be usurpers of your throne. We will dispatch them and reclaim it. The others will be so shocked at your appearance, most likely they will immediately acquiesce. There are no heroes among the Death Eaters. They are all ruled by fear. And you will give them something to fear, my Lord,” Bella said softly.

“Yes. Yes, I will. They will all pay for attempting to put another on the throne. The Cruciatus for each of them!” the boy lisped, “I will apply it myself, one after the other.”

”Yes, my Lord,” Bella agreed.

“And this will be my new stronghold. I need the arena altered to recreate it, Bella. Have the house elves begin work at once,” he ordered.

”Yes, my Lord,” Bella said.

“I also need to be able to enter and exit at will, as well as summon my Death Eaters. You will arrange that as well,” the boy said.

Bella paled at this. The only way the stronghold could be accessed was through her…or through her death, when the wards would fall. The stronghold was built with this feature so the people she was supposed to be protecting could leave if she died.

Bellatrix wasn’t about to tell Voltaire this. The boy had changed so much he might not hesitate to kill her to gain control of the stronghold quickly. She would have to stall him.

“I will have to bring an accomplished Spells Master here to adapt the wards, my Lord. This may take a little time,” she said.

Voltaire’s red eyes rested on Bella for a moment.

“Crucio!” he cried, pointing his wand at the witch, who screamed in agony.

He released her quickly, however. He only gave her a taste of pain. Bellatrix stood before him shuddering.

“As long as it doesn’t take too much time, Aunt Bella,” he hissed, fingering his wand.

“Yes…my Lord,” she whispered, her voice quaking.

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It was one in the morning. Rubin, Eloise and the livestock were all bedded down and sleeping soundly. It was a dark night and moonless. Out of the darkness a large form moved toward the farm, silently, stealthily, seeking access to the bitch on the premises.

Suddenly Fenrir halted, his yellow eyes narrowing as he saw the fence encircling the house and the barns.

It was made of silver.

The werewolf cursed as he walked the perimeter of the links, searching for a weak spot. He looked up…the fence was high…about twelve feet in height. Then he cursed again. There was a mesh top, also made of silver. Rubin had caged the bitch in. Damn him. He should have killed the farmer long ago.

Fenrir growled low in his throat. He’d keep watch…this fence couldn’t be erected all the time. Rubin had to get to his fields after all.

The werewolf would just bide his time and wait for an opening. Even if it meant going out in daylight.

He had turned Eloise. She was his bitch.

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A/N: Tired. Thanks for reading. ***