Dirty Mouth, Dirty Blood [h.g]

fifty six

AN: Nearing the end!

56

Then

Carina stared Severus Snape down, green eyes never leaving his dark ones.

"From what I gathered, you hate the summer." He finally told her.

"Summer is my favorite season," Carina said smugly. "I did it."

"Yes," Snape acknowledged. "You have finally mastered Occlumency."

Carina beamed up at him, face lit up with delight. "People will only see what I want them to from now on."

"That's right," Snape nodded, "but be careful. Make sure you never let your guard down. However good you are, there will always be someone better."

"Voldemort couldn't see through you," Carina pointed out, "and I got you to see what I wanted you to. I think I'll be alright."

"I certainly hope so," Snape nodded with a sigh.

He knew it then, and he knew it up until the day he died: Carina was going to go far.

Now

"I thought he would come," Voldemort drawled, scanning his followers. "I guess I was mistaken."

"Showtime," Carina whispered, before dropping the Cloak from around their shoulders. The Resurrection Stone dropped from Harry's limp hand, as it looked like Carina was restraining him.

"You were not mistaken, my Lord," Carina called out, stepping boldly into the clearing, pushing Harry along with her.

"The Boy Who Lived, come to die." Voldemort drawled.

Hagrid, bound and gagged, squirmed, and Carina saw hatred in his eyes. Ah, well. He never liked her in the first place.

"But what is this?" Voldemort asked, turning his attention towards Carina.

"I have brought you the boy, my Lord," Carina said, meeting his eye as if daring him to challenge her. "I have been serving you, undercover, infiltrating their organization, as my mother instructed me to."

Harry let out a gasp, feigning surprise. He was doing a shitty job of it, but his reaction was only necessary to close loop-holes.

Carina's performance would be what mattered in the end.

Carina made eye contact with Narcissa, begging her mother with her eyes to understand. Recognition passed by her mother's eyes, the ones so similar to Carina's own, and her mother stepped forward.

"She speaks the truth, my Lord. I sent her undercover to help your cause."

"Interesting," Voldemort muttered, stepping forward. "If you have nothing to hide, you won't mind my taking a little peak inside your mind?"

"Not at all, my Lord," Carina said. She felt the ghostly fingers moving around in her brain, and Carina conjured up every hateful memory she could think of. How much Ron annoyed her, how entitled Harry seemed, how obnoxious Hermione was. She thought of every fight, every spat, every annoyance and brought them to the front of her mind.

"Very well," Voldemort nodded. "Avada Kedavra," he cried, turning towards Harry.

There was a blinding green light, and Harry fell.

Carina kept her face impassive, but inside she was screaming. He was dead, just like that. Reduced to two words.

Carina turned her attention back to Voldemort, a bored expression on her face.

"Check to see if he is still alive," Voldemort motioned to Narcissa Malfoy.

"Dead, my Lord," Narcissa said.

But looking into her mother's eyes, Carina could tell she was lying.

Harry was alive.

A sense of relief like she had never experienced washed over her.

Harry was alive.  And Carina would do anything in her power to keep him that way.

"Come," Voldemort motioned to his followers, "let us show the Blood Traitors and Mudbloods their fallen hero. That should knock some sense into them."