The Werewolf's Child

The Barrow

A few nights after the night of the doe and the sword, Voldemort called a meeting of his innermost circle, and Sev found himself deep below the Riddle manor in Little Hangleton, where he decidedly did not want to be. When the mark had burned, he and Remus had been asleep, twined tightly around each other. They had stood in their bedroom, naked and shivering, and recited the Kabbalistic spell together. He could still feel Remus' breath on his cheek as they whispered the Hebrew words, the brush of his lips in silent farewell, the firm rise of his belly against Sev's flat one as he held him, briefly, before he let him go.

He felt the Kabbalistic magic in him now, dense and smoky, deep in his bones, strengthening his defenses. He knew he couldn't get through this meeting without it.

He was in a dark, stone lined tunnel, behind Bellatrix who, he noticed with satisfaction, was having considerable difficulty maneuvering the narrow steep passageway. Behind her, Thorfinn Rowle hit his head on a low beam and swore loudly. Behind Rowle was Corban Yaxley, head of Magical Law Enforcement, and one of Voldemort's nastiest bullies. Behind Yaxley, Pius Thicknesse wheezed, struggling to keep up. When he had first become minister of Magic he had been imperiussed, but he had since crossed over to their side. In the rear, Runcorn, Travers and Nott fell into line. Capheus Zabini, tall and silent as a shadow, brought up the rear.

Notably absent were the Malfoys, who were in disgrace, the Carrows, who were looked down on by Voldemort for their working class roots, and Pettigrew, who was considered unreliable around sensitive information.

Voldemort had designed this chamber like a lock. Sev himself was the secret keeper for the location of this hidden passage and the multitude of passwords required to get in, but the protections went much deeper than that. A silver knife hung by the door to the inner chamber. No one could enter that room without spilling blood.

The passage opened out into a sort of antechamber that was lined with bones. Stacks on stacks of neatly sorted femurs, radii, tibias. A pile of small squarish bones that must have once been fingers and toes. A huge inverted triangle made of skulls, stacked one on top if the other, facing out, the eye sockets making rows of black dots in the dim light.

Sev stood behind Bellatrix as she slashed her thumb with the knife. It was made of silver, blackened with age and blood, and hung from a heavy chain on the wall. She placed her bloodied finger on the stone entrance to the room, and murmured the password. Sev behind her, did the same. It took every ounce of concentration he had, as an occlumens, to get through that doorway without betraying himself.

The inner chamber was the barrow of the medieval lord who had built the manor. He lay in state in a stone sarcophagus. A great silver sword hung on the wall behind him. Rumor was that if the sword were ever removed, the building would fall.

The floor of the chamber was dry and sandy and the whole room smelled of snakes. Sev was familiar with the smell from his work as a potioneer. He used snakeskin regularly for his work. He occasionally kept snakes, in glass tanks in his office, and milked them for their venom. He didn't really mind the smell of snake.

But in this chamber the odor was ranker, fresher, more threatening. This room had been the domain of snakes for centuries. They tolerated the presence of Voldemort and his Death Eaters, of course, because Voldemort could speak to them. They lined the edges of the room territorially now, dark and slithering, tongues flicking continually, eyes glistening.

The Dark Lord was seated at a long black table made of stone. He sat at dead center, beneath the silver sword, and in front of the huge stone sarcophagus, facing the door. His eyes glowed red, his face, white against the dark stone, was a snake like mask. Nagini was draped across his shoulders, a weird parody of a shawl. Torches sputtered in wall sconces, their low light reflecting unevenly off Nagini as she undulated her sinuous body. The snakes in the corners rustled.