After Party

Where Oh Where Could She Be?

“Are you sure she has not been here, Headmaster?” Mairead Urley nearly pleaded with Dumbledore.

“No, I’m so very sorry. She has not been here.” Albus shook his head sadly, his blue eyes peering curiously over his half moon glasses at the woman wringing her hands across the desk from him.

“I was so sure. She seemed so fond of this place, and one of your professors.” Mairead continued.

A knock at the door interrupted her momentarily.

“Enter, Severus.”

Snape swooped into the Headmaster’s office, sneer firmly in place. He glanced summarily at Albus’ visitor, extending his hand politely as she rose to greet him.

“Ms. Urley has come searching for her niece. Have you seen Miss Monterichelieu?”

Snape’s sneer deepened as he released Mairead’s hand; the amethyst in his pocket cooling as he did.

“I have not.” Snape purred greasily as he poured himself into the chair facing both the Headmaster and his visitor.

“Pity. I so thought she might seek you out.” Mairead added sadly. “If she does happen to contact you …”

“You will be the first to know.” Snape answered her quickly.

“I must be going then.” Mairead stood, nodding to the men. Albus escorted her from his office.

Slowly, he settled behind his great desk, stroking his flowing beard pensively, eyes on a spyglass behind Severus’ head. When he could see the woman had indeed left Hogwarts proper, he returned his attention to his Potions Master.

“That was not Mairead Urley.” Snape stated flatly.

“No, it was not.” Albus added, “If Miss Monterichelieu does contact you in any way, I recommend keeping that information to yourself, Severus.”

“That goes without saying Headmaster.”

*********

Noah apparated directly to his father’s rented flat in London. The polyjuice potion wore off shortly after he returned.

“Neither of them have seen her, Father. They were both telling the truth.” He lay a dark blue crystal on his father’s desk.

“Damn. Where could she have gone?” Maurice swore throwing himself against the back of his chair in exasperation.

“I’m fresh out of ideas.” Noah sighed. I’d really like to know where Nolan is as well.

*********

“News from Voldemort’s encampment?” Albus inquired, pouring a hefty portion of fire whiskey for both himself and his professor.

“Inductions tomorrow night.” Snape spoke tiredly sipping at the liquor. Dumbledore shook his head sadly.

“More lambs to the slaughter.”

“These are not lambs, Headmaster.” Snape grumbled in discontent before adding, “He is even more determined to retrieve that damned prophecy. Lucius is bearing the brunt of his wrath on that front.” Snape stared morosely into the fiery amber liquid in his glass.

“At least it is not you.” Albus raised his glass to salute Snape, who followed suit.

“Indeed.”

Both men sat lost in their own thoughts and companionable silence while they finished their drinks.

“I shall speak to you as soon as possible at Headquarters?” Albus fixed his woeful stare on his friend, spy, and professor.

“As soon as I can safely get there.” Snape nodded curtly before shoving through the outer door of Albus’ office to ride the moving stairs to the main floor of the castle.

********

The stench of singed flesh hung in the heavy air like an unseen fog. Screams followed the hiss of burning acid; the acidic poisoned ink used by Voldemort to tattoo his followers permanently. One by one, acolytes crawled before his throne, prostrated themselves, offering their forearms freely for his claim.

Snape stood calmly amongst his brethren in the circle, nearly bored by the routine. The last acolyte crawled over the rough stones to prostrate himself reverently at the lord’s feet, masked face to the floor, arm raised in mute offering. Voldemort clutched the man’s arm tightly, unkempt fingernails digging into his flesh harshly. The victim did not flinch. Voldemort sneered happily. Finally a strong one.

The Dark Lord plunged his wand tip into the man’s pale forearm with great force and began the incantation.

“Mei venenum tu adsumos enim infinitas.” (My poison claims you for eternity.)

The acidic ink began to work; the man neither moved nor cried out. Impressed with the acolyte’s preparedness, Voldemort released his painful grip on the man’s arm, fully expecting him to drop it away from the pain emanating from his wand tip. The acolyte neither looked up nor swayed. All of the assembled DeathEaters now took note although not one dared speak. All too many remembered their own claiming and the pain they had endured.

“Stand!” Voldemort barked at the new initiate who instantly jumped to his feet, head still bowed.

“Look at me!” The man now raised his masked face to his Lord’s. Voldemort grabbed him roughly by the shoulders, spinning him around to face the half circle of his older followers.

“Finally, I have been brought one of strength, one completely worthy of my mark. Look into his eyes and see his strength!” The Dark Lord shouted. “Who sponsored this one?”

Malfoy stepped forward, head bowed reverently. “I did, my Lord.”

“At long last, something you’ve done right, Lucius.” Voldemort hissed.

Snape dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand to quash any reaction he felt when he looked into the man’s all-too familiar piercing blue eyes. Mentally berating himself for his weakness, Snape repeated over and over to himself. Show no recognition, show no recognition, until he had complete control over his thoughts, emotions and body once again. Nolan did not react at all when his eyes met Snape’s from across the room.