Fic: Brave New World (17/28): Harry Potter
Title: Brave New World
Author:
patriciatepes
Artist:
twisted_slinky
Fandom: Harry Potter
Chapter: Prev | Next
Rating/Contents: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters. Making no money here, as they all still belong to their prospective owners.
Summary: Partially DH compliant, most AU. Voldemort arrived at Malfoy Manor quicker than expected, and like that, the war was over. Now, Hermione is Snape's "assigned companion," and as determined as ever to stop Voldemort and save her friends. But that's hard to do in Voldemort's new world…
Chapter Seventeen: The Product of War
Severus was one of the last to enter the tent, and once inside, he took it all in. It was not enchanted to be very elaborate, like most camping tents. Instead, inside this one was a polished hardwood floor in a dark stain, and a small, round table that would rise to his waist if he stood right next to it. But he had no intention of doing so, seeing the black pewter cauldron sitting upon it, churning a foul smelling potion within itself. The potion was glowing and a deep acidic green, unlike any potion he had ever seen before. There were a few candles floating above, and they lit as soon as Voldemort came to a stop beside the cauldron.
Severus moved a bit farther into the tent, stopping when he was at the midpoint in the crowd of gathered Death Eaters. He took another moment to cast his eyes around. He noticed the Carrows were absent, as they were probably still patrolling the school. But Draco was here this time, his first real meeting as an official Death Eater. He noticed that Death Eaters that had forced to join-such as Percy Weasley-were absent from this gathering. This meant the one thing that Snape feared most. This potion… this was something big.
"Gather round," Voldemort instructed and the crowd inched closer.
They still gave the cauldron, kept churning by a small blue flame underneath, a wide berth, and Snape had a feeling that that was probably for the best. Voldemort was beaming, something Snape was sure he'd never seen before, as he looked over his followers.
"Behold," he said with a flourish of his hand. The potion seemed to react, churning a particularly large bubble to its surface and popping it with an audible sound. "A potion of my own invention. This, my dear Death Eaters, will be the weapon with which we conquer the rest of the Wizarding World!"
There was a mass of whispering and muttering. Severus remained silent, his eyes focused only on the Dark Lord and the potion beside him. Aside from his near-constant shield of Occlumency, there was only one other thing on his mind. Fortunately for him, Lucius Malfoy voiced it aloud.
"My lord, if I may… what does it do?"
It was easy to describe Voldemort's grin as serpentine, as most of his features were, but Snape had never seen a grin on the Dark Lord's face just so serpentine. He waved his hand over the bubbling concoction, giving Lucius only half his gaze.
"Allow me to explain. This potion-which I'm calling impura deprehendere-is simple enough. Once ingested, if even one ounce of your blood contains that of a muggle, it will… kill you."
There was an outbreak of quiet delight, smiles, and cheers. Snape forced a grin to his face, all the while his mind racing. This potion, this weapon that Voldemort had spent so much time developing, was every bit as dangerous as he feared it would be. Knowing his own bloodline, Snape feared a round of testing to follow, but he quickly quelled that thought. He knew Voldemort's bloodline as well… the Dark Lord would not risk being called upon his parentage. At least, for now…
Snape forced the smile on his face to stay in place as Voldemort's eyes began to scan the crowd before him. Snape dared followed his gaze as it passed over Bellatrix-who looked delighted almost to the point of ecstasy; Crabbe Sr., and finally, brought to rest upon the Malfoy family-of whom all but the soon to be daughter-in-law was in attendance. Lucius, Draco, and Narcissa all visibly stiffened. Snape's smile vanished as he glanced back at the Dark Lord's face.
It was like the snake had caught its mouse. Confusion wafted over the former Potions master, as he was sure that Voldemort had granted forgiveness for the Malfoys' transgressions. Lucius had all but told him so months ago at the Victory Ball. And with Voldemort continuing to use the Malfoy's manor home as his base, Snape had never thought to doubt this. But perhaps he was wrong.
"Narcissa," Voldemort beckoned, her name escaping his lipless mouth in a hiss.
"Yes, my lord?" she answered, determinedly holding her chin up, proud and unshakeable.
"Come forward, my dear," he said, gesturing to the spot on the other side of the ever-churning cauldron.
She moved, the crowd parting like the Red Sea before Moses, to allow her passage to the front. She hesitated just before the cauldron-and the Dark Lord-but eventually, she took the indicated space. Voldemort's cold gaze was fixated upon her now, as if everyone else in the room had simply vanished.
"You seemed… less than happy about my new potion. Do you not like it?" he asked.
There was no hesitation now. She rapidly shook her head.
"No, no, my lord! I was… I was simply… I was simply surprised at the ingenuity! Truly, you are a master among wizards, to think of such an ingenious potion."
"Is that so?"
Those three words seemed to steal the very air from the room. Snape wanted nothing more than to shrink away from the room. He was never one to back away from a challenge, but something told him that the things that were about to follow were going to have a devastating effect upon everyone in the room.
"You see, Narcissa, I've also been hearing rumors. Do you know what they say?" When Narcissa simply shook her head, he answered, "They say that you have not be in total agreement with some of my decrees since I've taken over our government and world."
Her lips parted, ready to protest. He silenced her with only a single finger, adding, "Particularly my wanting your son to marry Miss Weasley."
"My lord, no!" Narcissa began, and suddenly Voldemort was livid.
"Do. Not. Lie. To. Me!"
A nervous energy rocketed around the room, but no one dared speak. Snape turned to see Lucius with a death grip on his son's shoulders, the boy appearing to be on the verge of defending his mother. But every time Draco tried to open his mouth to speak, Lucius's grip tightened. Turning back to the problem at hand, Voldemort appeared a tiny bit more jovial. His eyes roved his rapt audience, the tiniest of dark grins on his face.
"After all… Draco seems very pleased with Miss Weasley, given her current… condition."
A small round of chuckles, and Snape's stomach churned with guilt. He could still see Granger's eyes, the shock and hurt in them, when he unwittingly revealed knowledge she did not have about her friend. He could feel the betrayal rolling off of her, and he feared for her, alone now in the crowd of the remaining wedding guests. Why did his mouth always have to get in the way in the heat of an argument or humiliation? Narcissa's next words brought Snape out of his reverie.
"Please, my lord, I beg your forgiveness. I should have never… I misspoke. Please. All I want is your forgiveness."
She bowed her head only, eyes cast to the floor. Voldemort's grin widened.
"Do you know what I want, Narcissa?"
She shook her head, never lifting her eyes. He continued.
"I want a demonstration of my potion."
Snape's breath hitched, just for a moment. Voldemort waved his wand, a clear vial appearing in his left hand and a metal handle appearing inside the cauldron. Tucking his wand away, he lifted the handle, revealed a thin ladle, and poured the potion into the vial. He replaced the ladle, and offered the potion to Narcissa.
She didn't take it immediately, lifting her eyes and finding herself disbelieving to see the proffered vial. It seemed an eternity that she just stared at the thing, her hands rooted to her sides. If Snape stared hard enough, he was sure he could see the liquid reflected in her ice blue eyes. Finally, from somewhere around Lucius and Draco, Bellatrix's voice rang out.
"Well, go on, Cissy. You've nothing to fear. Just drink the damn thing!"
A chanced stare back at the Malfoy family showed a shared look of confusion and brows knit tightly together, all no doubt wondering why Narcissa was even hesitating. Back at the front of the room, Narcissa's hand shook as she took the vial from Voldemort's hand. Even the Dark Lord looked a bit confused.
"Your sister is right. You're pureblooded, are you not? You've nothing to fear. Drink."
She eyed the vial as if it would transmogrify into some horrifying creature and devour her right on the spot. The group around her held their collective breath as she tipped the vial back and swallowed it in one gulp. For a moment, nothing happened. Everyone sighed a silent sigh of relief, and grins and chattering was starting up anew. Even the Dark Lord was turning away, readying himself to address his followers as a whole once more. He no sooner opened his mouth to speak when it happened.
Narcissa shrieked loud enough to shake the tent. She was clawing at her throat, vial dropped and shattered on the floor. Her nails dug into her pale flesh, strips of bright crimson blood following their tracks. She continued to scream and scream until smoke appeared from her very mouth. The smell of burning flesh filled the room, and when she dropped to her knees, everyone-even Voldemort-took a step back. Finally, her hands fell limp, her screaming stopped, and she slumped forward onto the floor.
Narcissa Malfoy lived no more.
Author:
patriciatepes
Artist:
twisted_slinky
Fandom: Harry Potter
Chapter: Prev | Next
Rating/Contents: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters. Making no money here, as they all still belong to their prospective owners.
Summary: Partially DH compliant, most AU. Voldemort arrived at Malfoy Manor quicker than expected, and like that, the war was over. Now, Hermione is Snape's "assigned companion," and as determined as ever to stop Voldemort and save her friends. But that's hard to do in Voldemort's new world…
Chapter Seventeen: The Product of War
Severus was one of the last to enter the tent, and once inside, he took it all in. It was not enchanted to be very elaborate, like most camping tents. Instead, inside this one was a polished hardwood floor in a dark stain, and a small, round table that would rise to his waist if he stood right next to it. But he had no intention of doing so, seeing the black pewter cauldron sitting upon it, churning a foul smelling potion within itself. The potion was glowing and a deep acidic green, unlike any potion he had ever seen before. There were a few candles floating above, and they lit as soon as Voldemort came to a stop beside the cauldron.
Severus moved a bit farther into the tent, stopping when he was at the midpoint in the crowd of gathered Death Eaters. He took another moment to cast his eyes around. He noticed the Carrows were absent, as they were probably still patrolling the school. But Draco was here this time, his first real meeting as an official Death Eater. He noticed that Death Eaters that had forced to join-such as Percy Weasley-were absent from this gathering. This meant the one thing that Snape feared most. This potion… this was something big.
"Gather round," Voldemort instructed and the crowd inched closer.
They still gave the cauldron, kept churning by a small blue flame underneath, a wide berth, and Snape had a feeling that that was probably for the best. Voldemort was beaming, something Snape was sure he'd never seen before, as he looked over his followers.
"Behold," he said with a flourish of his hand. The potion seemed to react, churning a particularly large bubble to its surface and popping it with an audible sound. "A potion of my own invention. This, my dear Death Eaters, will be the weapon with which we conquer the rest of the Wizarding World!"
There was a mass of whispering and muttering. Severus remained silent, his eyes focused only on the Dark Lord and the potion beside him. Aside from his near-constant shield of Occlumency, there was only one other thing on his mind. Fortunately for him, Lucius Malfoy voiced it aloud.
"My lord, if I may… what does it do?"
It was easy to describe Voldemort's grin as serpentine, as most of his features were, but Snape had never seen a grin on the Dark Lord's face just so serpentine. He waved his hand over the bubbling concoction, giving Lucius only half his gaze.
"Allow me to explain. This potion-which I'm calling impura deprehendere-is simple enough. Once ingested, if even one ounce of your blood contains that of a muggle, it will… kill you."
There was an outbreak of quiet delight, smiles, and cheers. Snape forced a grin to his face, all the while his mind racing. This potion, this weapon that Voldemort had spent so much time developing, was every bit as dangerous as he feared it would be. Knowing his own bloodline, Snape feared a round of testing to follow, but he quickly quelled that thought. He knew Voldemort's bloodline as well… the Dark Lord would not risk being called upon his parentage. At least, for now…
Snape forced the smile on his face to stay in place as Voldemort's eyes began to scan the crowd before him. Snape dared followed his gaze as it passed over Bellatrix-who looked delighted almost to the point of ecstasy; Crabbe Sr., and finally, brought to rest upon the Malfoy family-of whom all but the soon to be daughter-in-law was in attendance. Lucius, Draco, and Narcissa all visibly stiffened. Snape's smile vanished as he glanced back at the Dark Lord's face.
It was like the snake had caught its mouse. Confusion wafted over the former Potions master, as he was sure that Voldemort had granted forgiveness for the Malfoys' transgressions. Lucius had all but told him so months ago at the Victory Ball. And with Voldemort continuing to use the Malfoy's manor home as his base, Snape had never thought to doubt this. But perhaps he was wrong.
"Narcissa," Voldemort beckoned, her name escaping his lipless mouth in a hiss.
"Yes, my lord?" she answered, determinedly holding her chin up, proud and unshakeable.
"Come forward, my dear," he said, gesturing to the spot on the other side of the ever-churning cauldron.
She moved, the crowd parting like the Red Sea before Moses, to allow her passage to the front. She hesitated just before the cauldron-and the Dark Lord-but eventually, she took the indicated space. Voldemort's cold gaze was fixated upon her now, as if everyone else in the room had simply vanished.
"You seemed… less than happy about my new potion. Do you not like it?" he asked.
There was no hesitation now. She rapidly shook her head.
"No, no, my lord! I was… I was simply… I was simply surprised at the ingenuity! Truly, you are a master among wizards, to think of such an ingenious potion."
"Is that so?"
Those three words seemed to steal the very air from the room. Snape wanted nothing more than to shrink away from the room. He was never one to back away from a challenge, but something told him that the things that were about to follow were going to have a devastating effect upon everyone in the room.
"You see, Narcissa, I've also been hearing rumors. Do you know what they say?" When Narcissa simply shook her head, he answered, "They say that you have not be in total agreement with some of my decrees since I've taken over our government and world."
Her lips parted, ready to protest. He silenced her with only a single finger, adding, "Particularly my wanting your son to marry Miss Weasley."
"My lord, no!" Narcissa began, and suddenly Voldemort was livid.
"Do. Not. Lie. To. Me!"
A nervous energy rocketed around the room, but no one dared speak. Snape turned to see Lucius with a death grip on his son's shoulders, the boy appearing to be on the verge of defending his mother. But every time Draco tried to open his mouth to speak, Lucius's grip tightened. Turning back to the problem at hand, Voldemort appeared a tiny bit more jovial. His eyes roved his rapt audience, the tiniest of dark grins on his face.
"After all… Draco seems very pleased with Miss Weasley, given her current… condition."
A small round of chuckles, and Snape's stomach churned with guilt. He could still see Granger's eyes, the shock and hurt in them, when he unwittingly revealed knowledge she did not have about her friend. He could feel the betrayal rolling off of her, and he feared for her, alone now in the crowd of the remaining wedding guests. Why did his mouth always have to get in the way in the heat of an argument or humiliation? Narcissa's next words brought Snape out of his reverie.
"Please, my lord, I beg your forgiveness. I should have never… I misspoke. Please. All I want is your forgiveness."
She bowed her head only, eyes cast to the floor. Voldemort's grin widened.
"Do you know what I want, Narcissa?"
She shook her head, never lifting her eyes. He continued.
"I want a demonstration of my potion."
Snape's breath hitched, just for a moment. Voldemort waved his wand, a clear vial appearing in his left hand and a metal handle appearing inside the cauldron. Tucking his wand away, he lifted the handle, revealed a thin ladle, and poured the potion into the vial. He replaced the ladle, and offered the potion to Narcissa.
She didn't take it immediately, lifting her eyes and finding herself disbelieving to see the proffered vial. It seemed an eternity that she just stared at the thing, her hands rooted to her sides. If Snape stared hard enough, he was sure he could see the liquid reflected in her ice blue eyes. Finally, from somewhere around Lucius and Draco, Bellatrix's voice rang out.
"Well, go on, Cissy. You've nothing to fear. Just drink the damn thing!"
A chanced stare back at the Malfoy family showed a shared look of confusion and brows knit tightly together, all no doubt wondering why Narcissa was even hesitating. Back at the front of the room, Narcissa's hand shook as she took the vial from Voldemort's hand. Even the Dark Lord looked a bit confused.
"Your sister is right. You're pureblooded, are you not? You've nothing to fear. Drink."
She eyed the vial as if it would transmogrify into some horrifying creature and devour her right on the spot. The group around her held their collective breath as she tipped the vial back and swallowed it in one gulp. For a moment, nothing happened. Everyone sighed a silent sigh of relief, and grins and chattering was starting up anew. Even the Dark Lord was turning away, readying himself to address his followers as a whole once more. He no sooner opened his mouth to speak when it happened.
Narcissa shrieked loud enough to shake the tent. She was clawing at her throat, vial dropped and shattered on the floor. Her nails dug into her pale flesh, strips of bright crimson blood following their tracks. She continued to scream and scream until smoke appeared from her very mouth. The smell of burning flesh filled the room, and when she dropped to her knees, everyone-even Voldemort-took a step back. Finally, her hands fell limp, her screaming stopped, and she slumped forward onto the floor.
Narcissa Malfoy lived no more.