Chapter 17: Taken Hostage
An hour after Charlie had barged into the boys’ dormitories, the staff had been informed and searches had been organized.
By noon the whole of the Hogwarts premises had been combed, with no trace of Lily Evans to be found. They had even had a specialist from the ministry come and question the giant squid in the lake.
The students of third year and up had still been allowed to go to Hogsmeade, but the first and second years had been allowed to go only to continue searching for Lily. Throughout the entire afternoon, groups of students, adults, and Aurors alike searched Hogsmeade.
When nothing was found there, either, all the Auror units the Ministry held had been sent to search Diagon Alley and Muggle London. Under normal circumstances, neither Dumbledore nor the Ministry was required to reach so far to continue searching.
But Dumbledore was worried. Deathly worried. He knew Voldemort had been looking to get his hands on Lily Evans and James Potter, for they were the best witch and wizard of their age group, and both held lots of potential. Lots of potential.
Voldemort would want them out of his way.
After he’d been told of what had transpired yesterday between James and Lily, and had searched James’s mind with Legilimency to make sure he really hadn’t cheated on her, he deduced that Voldemort was indirectly involved somehow. Who else, besides the odd Slytherin, would want James and Lily to break up?
So, fearing for the redhead’s life, he demanded that searches continue until the girl was found. And prayed she would be found alive.
She was cold.
That was the first thought that drifted through Lily’s mind when she began to regain consciousness. She shivered as a cool breeze swept around her, making goosebumps form along her flesh.
She didn’t open her eyes. Instead, she ran her tongue along her teeth and swallowed, trying to wash away the icky taste that filled one’s mouth overnight. Absently she noticed that her bed was rather hard and flat this morning. She had no pillows or blankets. She must have kicked them off in the night. Stretching her arms above her head, she drew in a deep breath and yawned.
She heard footsteps approaching, and was vaguely surprised that one of the other girls was up before she. Usually she was the one that got up same as dawn. Maybe the roommate couldn’t sleep.
When the dormitory door slammed open, Lily opened her eyes enough to make them slits. She’d planned on seeing whom it was that was awake, and finding out why they were stomping around so moodily.
But when she saw that she really wasn’t in her dormitory, and that it really wasn’t one of her roommates coming toward her, she opened her eyes wide and sat bolt upright.
She was in a small room that had absolutely no furnishings, not even a window or a candle. The walls were wooden, as was the floor, which she had been sleeping on. The corners of the room were damp, and there were tiny holes that bugs or a draft could come through. Cobwebs were spun along the ceiling, invisible if not for the candlelight that was shining from the doorway.
The holder of the single candle was draped in a long, black robe, his or her feet clad in shiny black shoes. A hood of the same color was pulled over her visitor’s head, and he or she held the candle away far enough that it didn’t alight his or her face.
Lily’s first thought was: “Oh, no. I’ve died and the grim reaper has come for me.” But wouldn’t the reaper behold a sickle, not a candle?
It didn’t matter. This person wasn’t going to take her hand and skip out to a meadow so that they could have a picnic and gather wildflowers. No, this person would hurt her, and if not, he or she was at least capable of doing so if he or she pleased.
Then she realized: This is a Death Eater. She remembered what they looked like at Christmas.
“Good,” he grunted (Lily deduced her visitor was indeed a he), “you’re awake.”
With that he turned and was about to step out when Lily found her voice. “Er, sir? What’s going on?” Her voice was high and somewhat shaky, especially when he turned his head to peer at her. “Where am I?”
“Under our control.”
That was all the answer he was going to give her.
“She’s awake, my lord.”
Lord Voldemort stopped staring out the tiny window at the rain that poured constantly from the sky long enough to look down at the Death Eater kneeling before him.
“Good. I want you to feed her twice a day”once at noon and once eight hours later. She is to receive one goblet of water between each meal, besides the one she gets with the meal.” He could sense his servant’s want to ask why he, Voldemort, was treating her so…decently.
“We must keep her alive. Barely. For now. We do not want to kill her yet. Dumbledore and Potter have to see her, hanging onto life by a thread, first.”
The next Monday, students and teachers reluctantly resumed lessons. Charlie and the Marauders were given one school day off to get their bearings. Dumbledore urged the searches to continue.
That night, the friends were gathered in the boys’ dormitories. Remus was working on homework, or at least trying to. Peter was snoring, lying backwards on his bed with his feet on his pillow and his Charms book lying face down on his stomach, gently rising and falling with his steady breathing. Sirius and Charlie were both sitting on Sirius’s bed, talking quietly, books forgotten.
James was sitting on the window seat, overlooking this side of the Hogwarts grounds. The lake rippled calmly in the gentle breeze while owls hooted from the trees of the Forest. The crescent moon shone brightly, casting its light alongside the stars. One that was unlearned of Hogwarts might have called the scene peaceful, or serene. But that was only at first glance. Ones that knew Hogwarts for all its flora and fauna knew that the night was best described as…abiding, anticipating, waiting.
What was Voldemort waiting for? James demanded inwardly. He knew that’s where Lily was; how he knew, exactly, he didn’t know. But that’s what he felt in his gut, that’s what his instincts told him.
What was Voldemort planning to do to her? What was he doing to her now? James wanted the answers to these questions so badly; they were tearing him limb for limb. Would he ever see her again? Would he ever be able to explain to her her mistake?
He couldn’t believe that the last time he’d talked to her”looked at her”she had been upset, accusing, and crying. Beautiful. And he’d just stood there, dumbfounded.
Cheated on her? How could she ever think that of him? She knew”she knew”he wouldn’t ever do such a thing to her. He loved her; hadn’t he told her so more than a dozen times?
Had her trust of him really been wavering so dangerously that she’d been just waiting for something like that to happen? It must have been, for she had immediately drawn her own conclusion and assumptions. Now the whole bloody Tower thought him deceitful.
Jessica Fanning was just soaking it up, too, James reflected with a sneer. She had to have staged the whole entire thing. But why? Merely just to get him free of Lily? It seemed too low, just slightly too low, even for the likes of her.
“I just don’t understand it; why would she run away?”
Charlie’s quiet, grieving voice broke through James’s thoughts; he turned his head from gazing outside at the darkness that seemed to have mutually filled his soul since Lily’s disappearance, to looking at her. Her short brown hair was in disarray, her brown eyes lined with red and puffy.
James recalled that he’d seen her in the same state hardly two months ago, funnily when Lily was in mortal danger. And same as last time, she was in Sirius’s arms.
At least he had someone to hold, James thought bitterly of his best friend. An insane envy flared inside him for a moment before being extinguished. Oh, what he would give to hold Lily in his arms again. But even if he did get the chance, would she want to be held?
“Maybe she was provoked,” Remus suggested as he gave up on studying and set aside his quill. “Or forced.”
“No,” James quietly disagreed confidently. He turned back to the window. “She’d gone of her own will.”
“How do you know that?” Charlie demanded with narrowed eyes. She was quick to defend her best friend; or perhaps didn’t want to think that Lily had just left her.
“Perhaps,” Sirius said slowly as he studied James thoughtfully, “when you love someone, you make sure to remain open-minded to their faults.”
“Lily is selfish to a fault when she wants to be,” James told them. “She’ll think of only how she’ll deal with her actions, not of how those closest to her will.”
Charlie glared at him and looked about to protest, but after a moment of consideration, reluctantly nodded.
It was the truth, after all”the sad truth, but the truth nonetheless.
God, she was hungry. And scared. It was not a good combination.
For the past three days, Lily had barely eaten anything worthy enough to satisfy her hunger. But what did she expect, honestly? She was being held captive; they weren’t going to dote on her like she was a princess.
At least they hadn’t tortured her. Yet. Nope, just starving her. Trying to be optimistic, she thought about the three pounds she’d wanted to lose. Then she snorted to herself. She won’t lose just three pounds”she’ll probably lose thirty! And she might become anorexic, because she’ll become used to not eating, so when she does eat again, she won’t be able to.
If she does eat again, she corrected herself.
She didn’t know what time it was. It was always dark in her room, being there were no windows or candles. So when she fell asleep, she fell asleep. When she woke, she woke. Other than pacing and thinking, sleeping what about the only thing she could do.
She thought about Charlie, and what she would be doing. She thought about all the classes she was missing, and winced when she thought about how much work and studying she was going to have to do to catch up again. Last she knew, there had been about a month and a half until NEWTs.
Oh, God, she would be there for NEWTs, wouldn’t she?
She hoped so. Or she might be dead by then. Never knew.
But most of the time she thought about James. She’d gone back and replayed the entire scene of the other night so many times that she almost knew all of the dialogue by heart.
But the thing was, the more she reviewed it, the greater her doubts grew. She remembered how desperate and confused James had looked and sounded. It made her wonder”had he just been playing innocent well, or had he been genuinely out of the loop?
Was it possible the entire thing had been staged? Yes… she thought. Yes, it was possible. But was it probable?
James had never given her a reason to doubt his fidelity. Yet hadn’t she always, in the deepest recesses of her mind? Was she so insecure that she had begun to doubt how much those closest to her actually cared for her?
She wrinkled her nose at herself. That’s horrible, just horrible of her.
So was it probable that James had never cheated on her, and that the whole bra scene had been someone’s evil scheme all along?
Yes.
The following Saturday, Dumbledore allowed all of the students in every house to go to Hogsmeade again, but only to search for Lily. Most of the children groaned inwardly; sure, they’d liked Lily, but after a week, wasn’t it a lost cause? Besides, Hogsmeade had been searched so many times already.
But they all went; after all, it was still a chance to get out into the wonderful weather.
“UP! GET UP, YOU FILTHY MUDBLOOD!”
Lily was rudely awakened so unexpectedly she jumped up from her horizontal position on the floor. But since her legs had yet to wake, she collapsed again.
“COME ON, MOVE! WE DON’T HAVE ALL DAY, GIRL!”
Lily blinked as she carefully stood again. One of those black-robed figures was at the door, only this time he didn’t have food to give her. When she was fully standing, however shakily, as if she could no longer hold her own weight, he whipped out his wand from the folds of his robe and flicked his wrist, muttering something under his breath.
Her wrists snapped together and it felt like invisible rope was being wrapped around them. The same happened to her ankles, but they weren’t tied to each other. Instead, when she took a step forward, she realized they’d each been tied to an invisible weight, so it was hard to even drag her feet.
She crossed the threshold and painstakingly followed the Death Eater’s pointing finger to the right. He followed behind her.
She noticed how baggy her school robes were where several days ago they had just been starting to get a bit snug. Her belly now growled constantly, and she’d grown familiar with the hunger pains. Last time she’d been awake, she had slipped a hand under her shirt and had felt each individual rib. She’d moved her hand to her back and had felt each individual vertebra. She couldn’t go on like this for much longer. A week, maybe two at most.
She guessed that the whites of her eyes were steadily yellowing, and despite the many hours of sleep she was getting, she knew there would be dark rings under her eyes from dehydration. Her teeth were gross, caked with plaque; her nails needed trimming, and her body needed scrubbing. Not to mention her legs needed shaving.
Lily noticed that they were in a rickety old shack. It swayed in the winds that were howling menacingly outside. For the first time, she heard rain lashing at the walls, thunder cracking and booming overhead. It surprised her; she would have thought she could have heard a storm in her room.
The floors were dirt, though packed down so she could tell they were well traveled. A door appeared on her left, and the Death Eater following her pushed her roughly toward it. Confused and helpless, she gave him a half baffled, half pleading look. She couldn’t see his face; the hood cast it in shadow. When he didn’t say anything, she took that as his word to try to open the door herself.
But when she took a step forward, he grasped her shoulder in a crushing grip and pulled her back. As she stared at his back exasperatedly, he moved to the door and turned the knob.
“Master,” she heard him call when he had opened the door.
“Bring her in.”
Lily felt as if she’d suddenly been plunged into a tank of ice-cold water. Her pulse seemed to thicken and slow in her veins, her mind was wiped black, and she broke out in a cold sweat.
She knew that voice.