Chapter Eighteen

Rosier was sitting on a wall at the corner of Cottontrader Row and Spinner's End; it was a point about halfway between the house and the warehouse. He would obviously be suspicious about anyone walking down Spinner's End in what was by then the early morning, and yet still too early for normal pedestrians. The dawn was already threatening to break the darkness of the sky, and it was that damp autumnal cold, not quite frost, but cold enough for his breath to steam about him when he let out a harsh sounding cough. I was pleased to see that he looked thoroughly miserable; Tom Riddle obviously didn't worry too much about the wellbeing of his troops. Simple disguising charms would not do though, and Black and Lucius tightened the same complex shield as they had used earlier to pass him by.

We got to the warehouse undetected and crossed through the open door. Lucius had just begun to let his side of the shield waver, I could feel it falling, when Black stiffened, looking across at both of us, as someone crossed the doorway behind us, effectively blocking us in.

Tom Riddle was pacing up and down, his fur-lined cloak pulled tightly about him, muttering my name like some sort of weird litany. It had been a stroke of blind luck that he hadn't collided with us; after all, shielded or not, three men were a pretty solid mass. Lucius and Black stood frozen to the spot, each with a hand on one of my elbows; it was too dangerous to move, as Riddle kept pacing up and down, across the open doorway, cutting off our exit route. At the far corner, just as I felt the two men at my side draw their wands, four Death Eaters Disapparated in quick succession: both the Lestrange brothers, Walden Macnair and Bellatrix Black. Maybe if there had been just one less we could have killed them all then, there were three of us after all; maybe we should have tried anyway.

Riddle turned again, and began to walk back across the doorway, crossing behind us again, and just when he passed us, he began to move further into the warehouse, his attention diverted by something other than his four faithful. He was frowning across to the corner where we had Disapparated earlier, in particular at the drying pool of vomit I had thrown up. I felt both Black and Lucius tense, as Riddle shoved Rodolphus aside, and squatted down on his haunches beside the mess.

'Filthy bloody Muggles with their disgusting addictions,' he said savagely as he straightened up. 'My Severus and I shall rid the wizarding world of all of them and their corruptness.' He let a smile cross his face, breathed in deeply through his nose, and dipped his hand into his pocket, withdrawing Mordestone ... and I fancied he was talking to the stone, and not his shivering audience. 'And when we have cleansed the depravity of their perversion, then....' he said, pausing to stroke the stone, '... only then, shall my love and I have a world worthy of us.'

The four Death Eaters remained impassive at his display of what I could only think of as madness, and I wondered if I were the only one who even noticed the uncomfortable insights into the lunatic who had clawed his way to the top of a rotten tree. He kissed the stone and slipped it back into his pocket, as the three of us exchanged long looks under the shield.

We could have moved then, and I suppose we should have; the way through the open door was clear, but neither Lucius nor Sirius seemed inclined to make a break, and, as I was under their shield, I had to wait too. Riddle had turned away from the Death Eaters to face the door, actually looking right through us, through me. He took the stone out again and raised it to his cheek, his face hidden from the Death Eaters, his lips parted and his eyelids fluttering as though on the edge of consciousness, or the throes of sexual fulfilment. Then he kissed Mordestone again, and slipped his insanity into his pocket along with the black stone. It was odd, yet terrifying, to study Riddle when he thought himself unobserved, a frightening look at the madman who had managed to reach such heights, using the ambitions and vanities and avarice of men equally corrupt to get him there.

'Mordestone feels his presence,' Riddle said, spinning to the Death Eaters. 'She feels he has been here.'

'Snape?' Bellatrix ventured, and I could see she was not as confidently arrogant as she had been, as though she still had a bit of work to do to crawl her way back to her position of favour. I could see too, from the way she let her lip turn on my name, that she saw me as the cause of her fall from grace: just what I needed, yet another enemy. 'Can it feel Sirius too?' she asked.

'What makes you think that a Black is worthy of Mordestone's attention, Bella?' Riddle asked.

'I ... I just wondered if ....' She trailed off, mouthing the rest of whatever she was going to ask in silence.

'I want that house watched from all four sides now,' Riddle snapped, as Bellatrix lowered her head in furious mortification at being so silenced in front of those whom she probably considered her inferiors. 'Rabastan and Rodolphus will take the back corners of wherever that wretched charm ends; this side is already being watched,' he said, raising his thumbnail to his teeth. 'And you, Macnair, you will find wherever the far side ends.'

'The house is at the end of the street,' Macnair remarked. 'There's nothing after it.'

'The end of the world is there?' Riddle asked. 'Or perhaps you find this task beneath you, Walden?' He dropped all pretence of reason, and pointed to them where they stood in row, letting his voice rise with each word. 'Let me tell you all that no one ... no one ... is above my bidding. Now, I want Sirius Black and Lucius Malfoy delivered to me ... and if you cannot get to them before Severus does, let me assure you that I shall find someone who can. Do I make myself understood?' He ended almost with a scream of fury.

The four nodded, and Bellatrix gave him a look of appeal; one that spoke of wanting to ask him something.

'Ask away, Bella,' he offered, as though bestowing a great favour on her by dropping the Silencing Charm he had cast on her.

'What of me, my Lord?' she asked. 'What would you have me do?'

'You, Bella, will find your sister, and bring her to me at Malfoy Manor,' Riddle said, smiling his cold smile to let her know that he had forgiven her, but not forgotten. He had taken the stone from his pocket again, and rubbed his thumb over it, before drawing his cloak tightly to him. He seemed to be just about to Apparate away, to leave the rest to their appointed tasks, when another man Disapparated very nearly on top of him. It was Barty Crouch, one of those little points I had forgotten to remember about.

'I'm here to relieve Rosier,' Barty declared, and there was something cocky about him, as though he were assured of his own position.

'Hopefully you can see under a simple charm, Crouch,' Riddle replied.

'Hopefully I won't have to freeze my balls off all night,' Crouch returned, glancing at the other four Death Eaters as though to show that he, at least, was not afraid of bantering with Riddle.

'Let me assure you, Barty,' Riddle said, with the smile I could have warned Crouch to beware of, 'that if you miss anything, you will not have to worry about your balls freezing off; worry more about choking on them when I stuff them down your throat.'

Crouch refrained from replying, and I fancied he thought he'd maybe been just a bit too sure of himself.

'What are waiting for, Crouch?' Riddle snapped.

'Sorry,' Crouch replied quickly. 'I thought you were coming with me.'

'Me?' Riddle crossed the space to him, to where Crouch then stood just in front of us.

I saw Lucius close his eyes for a moment, and wondered if we had stayed too long, if we should indeed have tried to slip out and come back later. "I am fine, Severus," he said softly into my mind. "Rather you should watch out for Black's itchy wand hand."

"My wand hand's just fine, fat boy," Sirius responded in kind, and I felt something lift my spirits, something to do with the three-way communion we had found between us in what could best be described as desperation. I wondered if the white stone clutched in my hand, whilst the two men each held firmly onto my elbows in support, had anything to do with our ménage a trois, or if it were something even more precious, something we could use when not even physically linked. But I couldn't spare any thought for that, Riddle was talking to Crouch again, and I needed to know what they were saying, and I needed to keep my mind as neutral as possible.

'I have rather more important things to do,' Tom said. 'I shall return soon. I shall bring Severus with me, when he is well enough, and have him show me how to dismantle the wretched charm he has thrown around that house.' He paused for a moment to let a smile cross his mouth, one that was sickening to me in its longing. 'Although, I confess, it was worthy of him to keep Black and Malfoy trapped where they are.'

'I didn't know Snape was ill,' Crouch ventured, clearly unimpressed by Riddle's current obsession, glancing around at the others. 'He looked well enough earlier: pale and as ugly as usual, and about as sour as if he'd just chewed a rag soaked in vinegar, but well enough.'

'And just what would one such as you know of the difference between ugliness and beauty?' Riddle replied, and drew a finger down Crouch's cheek, much the way he drew one down mine, but when he moved his hand away I saw that instead of the hideous invisible ghost of his touch on my cheek, there was a livid mark on Crouch's. Riddle drew Mordestone from his pocket once more, and I could see it wasn't the first time Barty Crouch, or any of the others, had seen the stone. Of course, it wouldn't be, they would have had her Mark tattooed on their arms too, but I could see Barty was truly frightened of it. Riddle held the stone high, and laughed as Crouch almost seemed to wither, his face contorted in such pain that he appeared to age in front of our eyes.

Riddle turned. 'Get moving,' he ordered the Death Eaters. He slipped the stone back into his pocket yet again, leaving Barty gasping in agony as the others moved toward the door, and the Dark Lord Apparated away.

'Bastard,' Crouch hissed at the space where Riddle had been, and stumbled out of the warehouse in the wake of the other four, into the predawn darkness.

'Barty Crouch?' Black whispered when he had gone.

'Yes,' I replied. 'I had forgotten about him.'

'That's not possible,' Black said, clearly shocked, but there was no time for any more; there was another set of footsteps approaching the warehouse, and this time it was Evan Rosier. He didn't hang about though; he just moved to the corner and Apparated away too.

*****

Even knowing that Black walked a few paces in front of me, and Lucius did the same behind me, didn't stop me feeling exposed and about as vulnerable as I ever wanted to feel. I kept expecting Riddle to reappear from nowhere, although I knew that was not possible; he would have to use the warehouse just like everyone else. Crouch was standing far nearer to the house than Rosier had though, away from the junction of Cottontrader Row and Spinner's End, just a few yards outside the charm.

He looked down the road at me, to where I was walking slowly and painfully towards the house. By the time I had almost reached him my legs were on the point of giving way, and my breath was coming in laboured gasps that made me suspect that the first aid I had refused to allow anyone to give me, was going to be needed after all.

'Well, well, lover boy,' Crouch said, grinning a rather insane grin at me. 'What a pity. I had hoped that Riddle was going to catch that old toad Abraxas and his drunken yobs giving you a doing over.'

'What are you talking about, Crouch?' I snapped as best I could.

'You've just missed your ... paramour. In fact he was very anxious to return to your charms ... whatever the fuck they might...' He trailed off as I sent a hex from my open hand to knock him off his feet; one that almost totally exhausted me.

'Worry about yourself, and not your betters, Crouch,' I said. 'Or perhaps I shall tell Tom, and Abraxas and his ... drunken yobs ... what you think of them.' I had stopped, not to gather another head of steam, but more to catch my breath for the final few yards, and I could feel Lucius close in behind me, even as I felt Black slip back a couple of steps. 'I'm sure I can make up something suitably disloyal,' I said, trying my best to produce the sneer that I had never had trouble with before.

'Fuck you, Snape,' Crouch said, regaining his feet, and letting the mad smile touch his lips again. 'Oh, I forgot ... word is you already got fucked.'

That time I didn't hold back; I let him get the full blast of my pent-up self-disgust. He was unconscious when I passed him by, still charmed from Muggle view, and probably he'd be lucky enough not to get stepped on by a passer-by. It was just as well he'd chosen to stand so near to the house; no one else was likely to go that far down the road. I was only sorry that I wouldn't hear how he explained himself to Riddle.

*****

Black closed the door behind us, as Lucius grabbed my arm. I shook him away, feeling oddly strengthened by venting myself on Crouch; the second hex hadn't weakened me as the first had, it had somehow done the opposite. I felt something begin to creep through me, although I doubt I recognised it just then: I had begun to fight back.

As Lucius went up the stairs, I pulled myself away from the wall I rested against and followed Black through to the kitchen, finding him already telling Ethel what had happened. That made me wonder just how near I had to be to her, in a physical sense, for her to know what was happening around me.

"Here, of course, Severus dear," she replied to my mind, nodding absently to Black at the time. "I know if you're on your way down Spinner's End, of course, and who else is outside, but it is the house that contains our link to one another."

I supposed I should have known that; I did, however, remind myself to ask her how she had known that I had needed the book when I had been at Malfoy Manor. I was too tired to ask her just then though, too tired to have some rambling explanation given.

'Ethel,' Black said, sitting himself at what had become his customary seat at the kitchen table, the one with the ashtray in front of it. 'Remember these sandwiches I didn't want?' He flashed her a grin, slightly more tired than usual. 'I wouldn't mind some, while Lucius tells us all about barmy Barty,' he added. 'Where's he disappeared to anyway?'

'Yes ... Crouch ... I had forgotten about him,' I admitted again, as Lucius reappeared in the kitchen, dressed in something made of black velvet that he should clearly have left at Malfoy Manor.

'Hey, you didn't need to get all dolled up for us, Shirley,' Black said, failing to hide what looked rather uncomfortably like appreciation that I doubted would be welcomed by Lucius.

'There is a limit to just how long some of us wear the same clothes, Black,' Lucius declared, looking around the kitchen he had seemed to admire earlier, with what then bordered on disdain, 'even if one finds oneself in somewhat straitened circumstances.' He reached out his hand and helped himself to one of Sirius's sandwiches.

'But you're just going to bed,' Black remarked, shielding the rest of his sandwiches with his arm, and I could see his point. 'Unless that's your nightie?' he added. 'Anyway, what's this about Crouch?' he asked, dropping the levity from his voice as I shot him a warning look.

Lucius shrugged, letting Black's remarks pass, and I suspected he was just tired too. 'He hasn't been around for long,' he said. 'Just a couple of weeks, in fact.'

'I hate this,' Sirius replied, swallowing the remnants of his second sandwich, as I wondered if I should eat one too. After all, the last meal I had had, what felt like days before, was decorating the warehouse floor. 'Barty Crouch is very friendly with James too,' Black added, clearly worried.

I digested that, instead of a sandwich. 'How many games within games are we dealing with?' I asked.

'Can I make a suggestion?' Ethel asked, as though any one of us would have stopped her. 'Why don't you all have some nice rest and wake up fresh to this tomorrow.'

'It is tomorrow,' Black said sourly.

'I know, dear, but when you awake refreshed, I promise you it will still be there,' she said cryptically.

*****

My bath had already been run for me when I went upstairs. Black and Lucius had gone to bed about an hour before, and I had sat nursing a glass of whisky that had turned into five, before Ethel finally took it away from me and sent me packing.

I had been dreading this, and yet I couldn't comprehend how I had waited for so long to wash him away from my body, as though frightened that the physical ablution would do nothing to cleanse his presence from me. I stripped cautiously, leaving my shirt until last, noticing that wasn't something I normally did; I would normally start with shoes, then socks, shirt, and trousers, in that order, and I didn't even attempt to fool myself that it was for any reason other than keeping his accursed Mark covered for as long as possible. I had unbuttoned the shirt, and was just about to peel it from me, when there was a soft knock on the door, and Black pushed it open.

'Do you need a hand?' he asked. 'I mean to get into the bath.'

I wasn't sure what else he could have meant, but I shook my head without replying. He gave me doubtful look and closed the door.

I couldn't wait any longer; I had to take the ruddy shirt off one day, so it may as well have been then. I slipped the right arm off first, and at last summoned up the dregs of my courage to pull the damn shirt off completely. The red eyes of the Dark Mark looked up at me, glittering in triumph that I pretended was just the way the flames from the single wall sconce caught them. I caught sight of myself in the slightly misted mirror above the sink, far enough away from it to have a view of the whole of my torso. I was streaked with darkening bruises, and angry weals, and marks I could barely remember having had inflicted on me. I was about to turn away, to immerse myself in the foamy water that beckoned to me, when I stopped. I examined each part of me, memorising the indignities and everything else he had heaped upon me, and added them to the ledger I had begun in my mind, in the debtors column, and I vowed to myself then that whatever the final tally was, the price would not be one that Tom Riddle could afford to pay.

I sank into the warm water, refusing to listen to the angry hiss the Mark made when it was submerged, just letting the tendrils of cinnamon and orange blossom steam invade my troubled senses. But it wouldn't be denied; it was almost as though it became angrier and angrier the more I tried to force it from my mind, and I once again had the uneasy feeling that I would never have any peace from it. I tried to push it from my mind again as I ducked right under the water to let my hair fan out, but I had to resurface almost immediately, grasped by some kind of panic at what I had seen. The Mark had seemed to stand out from my submerged arm, as though it were straining to break free from the restraint of my flesh, and claw its way to the surface for air.

I felt a wave of furious nausea wash over me, consumed as I was with rage that this cleansing I had so longed for, was nothing but another chance for Riddle to display his power over me. I was about to haul myself out of the bath, when I heard Ethel tapping on my mind. I almost laughed to myself; she had never done that before, always content just to remark whenever she cared to, without prior announcement, and I assumed that she was somehow allowing me the privacy of my own bathroom. There was something so old-fashioned and genteel about that that quite took me aback, and made me remember that there were better things in this world than Tom Riddle and Dark Marks.

"What is it, Ethel?" I enquired.

"Use the stone again, dear," she whispered lightly back to me. "Use the stone to shut it out."

I reached out over the bath, wondering why I had forgotten about it, deliberately using my left arm, even though it was the one at the wall side, and just managed to grasp my trousers from where I had stepped out of them, feeling my own triumph at the way in which the Mark burned angrily back at me. I freed the stone from my pocket, and as I did, the Mark seemed to recoil like a whipped dog. I left the stone sitting on the edge of the bath and finally went about my bathing undisturbed, taking as long as I wanted, and almost falling asleep in the process. In fact, had it not been for Black coming into the bathroom about an hour later, I suspect I would have gradually slipped down under the water, and saved Riddle all the trouble I hoped to give him.

'Sorry ... I thought you'd drowned,' he said, coming over to the bath and sitting himself down on the edge of it.

'Do you mind?' I said, quite at a loss as to how to deal with his invasion of what I considered to be my personal privacy. He looked surprised, and a horrible thought crossed my mind. 'Black?' I asked, not at all sure I wanted to hear the answer. 'Are you under the misconception that your boyish Gryffindor charm is in any way fetching?'

He didn't answer.

'Let me set the record straight,' I said. 'I am not interested, not only in any man, but in you in particular.' He still said nothing, and I began to have the notion that he thought his silence might appeal to me better. 'Go and try your dubious charms on Lucius,' I suggested. 'Beware though; he is likely to hex you into next week.'

'Yeah,' he said, standing up resignedly, and I found myself staggered at the man's audacity, especially that night, or morning as it had become quite some time before. 'I already tried,' he went on. 'He wasn't terribly impressed either.'

'So I was second?' I asked, not at all sure how I felt about that.

'Sorry,' he said, grinning his Gryffindor grin. 'I just get so fucking randy when there's any danger around.'

'I could have lived without knowing that,' I said. I didn't think there was any point in either of us being embarrassed, and as he wasn't likely to be, I slipped even further below the water, to avoid any lingering doubts he might have had, and any of his further scrutiny. 'Go to bed, Black,' I muttered, nodding to the door.

He had already opened the door, not at all crestfallen, and for that at least I admired him, when he turned back. 'Was that definite no?' he asked.

It was just then that I noticed something odd creeping up my chest and into my throat, something I didn't recognise. And it was too late by the time I did, because I had already thrown my head back, and laughed out loud.

'I've never seen you laugh, Severus,' he said.

'I've never heard anything quite so funny before,' I replied. 'Get out of here; I have had enough of madmen for one day.'

*****