“But will they believe you?” The Death Eater asked, walking down the cold stone passageway, lit by the flickering torches along the rough wall.
“Of course they will! That Potter girl may take some convincing but all the others… they’ve been brought up in a safe world, they’re too trusting. They’ll swallow any sob story up,” Bella snapped back at him, glaring down the seemingly endless corridor ahead.
“I’m just saying, what if Potter told them…”
“He wouldn’t have…”
“How would you know?” She spun round, her dark eyes piercing, glaring at him with such ferocity, that he could have knelt and begged for forgiveness there and then.
“How dare you question me, you snivelling wretch? Do you dare suggest that this wouldn’t work?”
“N-no!” he cowered; trembling… he’d heard what she’d done to the Longbottoms…
“We’ve been planning this for years, and you’re betraying your master!” He was now begging her, his hands clutched in front of his chest.
“No! Please, I only feel that Potter would have forewarned his children, or the girl may guess! Maybe we could kill her, use her as the sacrifice?” Bella had calmed, yet anger was still evident in her face.
“You know that is impossible. The sacrifice must be adult, or at least of age and all seven children must go through the veil alive, or they will be killed instantly… like my cousin, I believe,” she added with a cruel laugh.
“I’m sorry I doubted you. It won’t happen again.” She gave a small, warm smile.
“I know. We can’t afford people who question their peers in this group, you see.” He smile widened, her eyes, which had been fierce only moments before, were suddenly friendly.
“I know that you won’t do it again.” He sighed in relief, closing his eyes and smiling slightly. This unfortunately meant that he did not see Bella reach into her pocket.
“Avada Kedavra!”
***
The children anxiously waited in the living room that was shown to them the day before. They sat there watching the old grandfather clock slowly tick towards three O’clock. They had changed from their pyjamas into the fine white robes found in their rooms, a welcome change from the stale smelling bed clothes. Their feet were bare, there had been no shoes provided, but they didn’t mind; they were in the middle of a tropical rainforest after all. The table in the centre didn’t have the luxurious food on from yesterday, but rather, pots of tea and plates of scones, biscuits, sponge cakes and large jars of homemade jam.
The grandfather clock let out a loud, low dung and a loud CRACK resounded throughout the room. Bella smiled warmly at them and sat on the sofa opposite, pulling a delicate china cup and teapot towards her.
“I’m glad to see that you all came. I can continue with my story that way,” she said, in what Jamie thought was a very patronizing voice, the sort one used with a four-year-old. He didn’t know whether to trust her or not… after all that his Dad had told him, and yet, she was treating them so kindly…
“When can we contact home?” He asked. Bella continued to smile and gaze fondly at them through her heavily lidded eyes.
“In due time. But please let me continue with my explanation first. I assure you, letters have been sent informing them of your safety. May I finish my story?” Sirius nodded, feeling rather bold.
“I told you yesterday that I was dying. I also told you that only you could help me. Today, I will tell you what I wish for you to do, and how to do it. This is the potion,” she said, holding out a tiny vile of pure white potion, that seemed to be glowing slightly, or maybe it was just the flickering light of the log fire.
“It takes several months to make, but, once we’d explained our situation, an Unspeakable was happy to make a time turner for us, which sped up the process nicely.”
“We?” asked Nicolas, his dark brown eyes narrowing. Lillian was surprised to hear him speak; he seemed like the quiet, shy type.
“Elisa and I, along with a few other friends that wish to make my last few months special.” Bella was delicately spreading some strawberry jam in a light scone, the vile of potion now standing in the very middle of the table, its contents seeming to swirl slightly.
“Say we do help you… what’s in it for us?” Asked Camilla, leaning back and folding her arms, surveying Bella with both interest and suspicion.
“Well,” said Bella, “For you four, I do not know. You can have anything you want.” She gestured with a pale hand towards Danny, Camilla, Rosa and Nicolas. “But for Lily, Jamie and Sirius…” She flicked her wand and, just under the trapdoor, appeared Severus Snape, kneeling, bound around the wrists and arms and a gag in his mouth. Bella looked at him scornfully, and the Potter children stared at him in shock.
“Severus Snape,” Bella spat, looking down at the man who was glaring up at her fiercely with dark, piercing eyes. “He still believes in the Dark Lord’s views, and is constantly apparating to the nearest city for muggle baiting. I hate him with every fibre of my being but cannot bring myself to kill him. I don’t know how I could have been so heartless during the war… but now, this wretched piece of dirt deserves to die, but I just can’t do it! Surely, your parents would love to take revenge “ would love to see him sent to Azkaban, after what he did to Dumbledore, to your father.” Lillian realised she was breathing heavily. To leave this man would be to kill him, but then, as Bella said, he deserved to die. Words her Dad had once said came floating back to her.
No one deserves to die, not even Voldemort truly deserved it. To spare a life is a far greater and nobler thing to do than to take it.
She could spare this man’s life… but could she trust Bella? Her story seemed true enough but, like her Uncle Ron always said; poisonous toadstools never change their spots.
“Before we agree,” Lillian said, her voice shaking slightly, “What do you want us to do?”
“In the Department of Mysteries, there is an ancient veil. A veil with amazing mystical powers, which can form a connection between two worlds; the land of the living and the land of the dead. Only the seven children described in the prophecy can make this connection and return alive. That’s you seven. Each one of you must go through the veil together, or you all will surely perish.
“This potion, as I’ve already explained, can bring a person back to life for one minute for every year they were alive. I need you to find my boyfriend, and give him the potion. You must not speak to any of the other spirits, they will try to persuade you to give them the potion, and it’s extremely hard to make. Plus, it was made with some of your hairs, and some of my boyfriend’s hairs, which I kept when he died. If another spirit drinks it, you will be trapped, forever. Not dead… not alive…
By going through the veil, you will create a bridge, but you and the spirit of my dearest love will only be able to cross it by drinking the potion, so it is vital that you find and talk to him, and only him. Time will stop for you, so you may take as long as needs be, but I really must stress how important it is that you do not talk to any of the other spirits, just ignore them, however hard that might be. Once the potion is drunk, time begins again, and you must cross the bridge, unless of course, you have taken pity on another spirit and sacrificed yourselves so that it can spend a few minutes on earth.”
None of the children understood. They just sat there in silence, the heads hurting from thinking too much. It was ridiculously complicated and dangerous. It all seemed to fit but… Jamie had spotted a contradiction.
“If you’re dying, and there’s a world of the dead, why can’t you just wait until you die and then find your boyfriend yourself?” Bella blinked, she’d been unprepared for this question. Nevertheless, year’s of being on the run and going from country to country, had become very good at thinking on her feet.
“Not every spirit can go there. Only the good, decent people. But I, I haven’t been good. I haven’t been kind. It’s unlikely that my soul will find its way to the next world. Please, children… this is my last chance…please, will you do it for me?” The children thought. They thought of the stories their parents had told them, about devious Death Eaters tricking their way into your friendship, before killing you when you let your guard down. They thought of the way Bella had kidnapped them, how she’d prevented them from seeing their families. But then, they thought of how kind she’d been to them, the remorse she’d shown, the desperate plea’s she’d made. The offers she’d given. They remembered how much their father would love to see Sirius, or Dumbledore or his parents, and how this woman simply wanted to say good bye to one man. What could they do? They looked at each other, and nodded, knowing that each of them was thinking the same thing.
“What was your lover’s name?” asked Danny, hardly daring to believe he was doing this. The answer she gave sounded familiar to the Potter children, sent a strange shiver down their spines. They could almost hear their Father saying the words, and yet could not place a memory to it.
“Tom Marvolo Riddle.”
A/N Dun Dun Duuuuuuuuun! If you've read all the way down here, it won't take you much longer to share your thoughts on the story and help me decide what to write next, will it?
The Third War by dumbledorefluertwins
Chapter Notes: I hope this chapter will get validated faster than the last. Oh, and remember, please help me decide which story you'd like next! And leave something about the story (It doesn't have to be nice!) in the/a review. :P