Black and White

36

What would have been the end of my fourth year passes, and the Death Eaters free those who were in Azkaban, including Uncle Lucius. The man hardly spares me a glance, though I'm grateful. As unstable as he is now, the less he notices me, the better.

Draco and I spend most of our time in Aunt Narcissa's library, as it is the least trafficked area of the house. Mostly, I just want to avoid Fenrir Greyback. With Snape away, he's taken to cornering me so he can feel me up. He doesn't seem to be affected nearly as much by my icy skin as others are.

Today, however, we've been called to a meeting. But, as Draco and I enter, we stop short. There, levitated above the table, semi-conscious, is Professor Burbage, bloodied and obviously in pain. My Muggle Studies professor. One of the kindest people I know. She looks right at me, but seems to know better than to attempt to reach out to me. Or maybe she can't. I think of all the times I just sat with her in her office, discussing the muggle fairy tales I loved so much.

Draco tugs on my sleeve, and I follow him to our seats. A few minutes later, arriving late, Snape walks in. He also stops short at the sight of Professor Burbage.

"Severus, I was beginning to worry you had lost your way," Voldemort addresses. "Come, we've saved you a seat."

Snape takes the seat across from me, glancing my cousin and I over.

"You bring news, I trust," Voldemort assumes.

"It will happen Saturday next," Snape answers evenly. "At nightfall."

"I've heard differently, my lord," another Death Eater interrupts. "The aurors and the Order let slip that the Potter boy will not be moved until the thirtieth of this month. The day before he turns seventeen."

"This is a false trail," Snape assures. "The auror office no longer plays any part in the protection of Harry Potter. Those closest to him believe we have infiltrated the Ministry."

"Well, they got that right, haven't they," Yaxley snorts, and some others laugh.

"What say you, Pius?" Voldemort asks Thicknesse, and I see Nagini looks ready to strike.

"One hears many things, my lord," Thicknesse answers. "Whether the truth is among them is not clear."

Voldemort laughs. "Spoken like a true politician. You will, I think, prove most useful, Pius." He turns back to Snape. "Where will he be taken, the boy?"

"To a safehouse," Snape answers. "Most likely the home of someone in the Order. I am told it will be under the highest protection. Once there, it would be impractical to attack."

Bellatrix clears her throat. "My lord, I'd like to volunteer myself for the task. I want to kill the boy."

A shout is heard from the dungeons.

"Wormtail! Have I not spoken to you about keeping our guests quiet?" Voldemort shouts.

"Yes, my lord," Wormtail answers, scuttling away. "Right away, my lord."

"As inspiring as I find your bloodlust to be, Bellatrix," Voldemort continues, eerily calm again, "I must be the one to kill Harry Potter."

Bellatrix sinks back into her seat, resigned.

"But, I face the unfortunate complication that my wand and Potter's share the same core," Voldemort goes on, standing and walking slowly around the long table. "They are, in some ways, twins. We can wound, but not fatally harm one another. If I am to kill him, I must do it with another's wand. Come, surely one of you would like the honor."

I wince a little as his nails trace the back of my chair. No one looks up. In my efforts to keep my face down, I notice my frost has started to trail the table directly in front of me.