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Living inside Yesterday by Potter47
Chapter 13 : The Subtle Knife
 
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 5


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Living inside Yesterday
Potter47



~ Part Three ~
Prisoners of the Mind



“Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon.”
~ De la Mare



~ Chapter Thirteen ~
The Subtle Knife



“Nice to meet you, Weasley,” said the Dark Lord, as the door to his chamber opened. “I’m guessing that you don’t feel the same.”



The Dark Lord stood up once again, and faced the door.



“My,” he said, “they said you were tall, but I didn’t expect this...”



For, as the Dark Lord walked closer to Ron, he found that the boy was only a few inches shorter than himself. And Voldemort was obviously not a short Dark Lord.



“What do you want?” asked Ron. He seemed to be better than Hermione at keeping the vomit back. Voldemort could hardly smell it.



“I just want to make conversation with someone I’ve heard so much about.”



What do you want?” asked Ron, through gritted teeth.



“I’ve been wondering,” said Voldemort, a thoughtful look on his grotesque face, “are you and the Mudblood...together?



“Don’t call her that!”



“Shall I take that as a ‘yes?’”



“No,” said Ron. “You shall not.



Really?” asked the Dark Lord suspiciously. “I was so sure...I never did understand this issue very well....”



He then looked into Ron’s eyes, deeper than anyone else had ever looked. He could see everything. In fact, he could see himself, if he wished, by looking at the very recent memories, but he felt no desire to do such a thing.



“Really,” said Ron, once Voldemort broke the eye contact.



“Who would’ve thought....” said the Dark Lord. “Lovegood? Really? Am I mistaken?”



Ron quickly shifted his gaze to his feet. He did not answer.



“I guess I’m not,” the Dark Lord said. “Pity.”



“What?” Ron’s gaze was back up. “Why’s it a pity? What’s wrong with Luna?”



Voldemort smiled. “I could tell you, but I believe you wish to get back to your nice cell within the next day or so....”



“Huh?”



“It’s called a ‘joke,’” said the Dark Lord. “Why doesn’t anybody know that anymore?”



“Is that all?” asked Ron, hoping to leave.



“Do you honestly think I’d have you come all the way up here just to discuss your feelings?” asked Voldemort incredulously. “No. That’s not all.”



Ron’s hope plummeted.



“How does your sister feel?” asked the Dark Lord. “About Potter?”



“What?” asked Ron. “What do you care about how Ginny feels? What does that have to do with anything?”



“It has to do with everything, Weasley,” he said. “Everything.”



“I’m not going to tell you!” said Ron. “Why would I tell you?” He quickly snapped his eyes shut.



“Open your eyes, Weasley.”



“No.”



“Fine.” The Dark Lord pulled his wand out of his robe’s left pocket. “It’ll only take a bit longer.”



Legilimens!



* * *


“What?” asked Hermione incredulously.



“I said, ten points to Gryffindor,” repeated Snape.



“Y-you’ve never given me points,” said Hermione. “Or anyone else in Gryffindor for that matter.”



“There’s a first time for everything,” said Luna. “I remember the first time he gave Ravenclaw points. At least, the first time I knew of it.”



“I am the Head of Slytherin House, Miss Granger. You rarely even see me outside of Potions class. A class full of junior Death Eaters. Surely you’ve realised that.”



A look of understanding flashed in Hermione’s eyes.



“Realised what?” said Luna. “What does that have to do with anything?”



“He...he has to be biased against Gryffindor, because if he wasn’t, Malfoy and the other Slytherins would tell their dads, and he could lose his position in the Death Eaters.”



“Once again, very good, Miss Granger,” said Snape, putting the spell back on the window. “So, do you have any ideas?”



“Oh,” said Hermione. “All I can think of is just sneaking in here, and sneaking us out. It would be a great deal easier if you had a Portkey, that could bring us back, but it would be more galleons than any of us have to set up an unauthorised Portkey.”



“Actually,” said Snape, “I doubt Dumbledore couldn’t, if he felt it necessary, make one. But clearly he doesn’t value your lives all that much. If Potter can pull this off, it’ll be a whole lot more than ten points to Gryffindor.”



Ron!” called Luna.



“What?” said Hermione turning around.



“Ron, are you all right?” asked Luna, kneeling beside the red-haired form that had just appeared.



“Yeah,” said Ron. “I hit my head on the wall, but other than that I’m fine.”



“What did he do?” asked Snape.



“Snape!” cried Ron. “What are you doing here?” He looked over at Hermione. “Quick! You have that wand! Curse him!”



Reiterate!” muttered Snape, annoyed, his wand pointed at Ron.



“AHH!” screamed Ron, as the silvery light rushed toward him. But when it hit, he abruptly stopped.



“Oh,” he said, memory back in place. “Sorry about that Professor. Just...wasn’t expecting you.”



“Well?” asked the Potions Master. “What did he ask?”



“Er,” Ron glanced sideways, toward Luna, who was looking worriedly at him. “He asked how Ginny felt. About Harry.”



“And?”



“He used that Lelymensee thing.”



Legilimency,” corrected Snape. “What did he find?”



“Well, Hermione said that Ginny was over Harry, so that’s what I thought, so that’s what he found,” said Ron.



Hermione looked hopeful at this announcement. “Wait, did he seem happy about that? Or disappointed?”



“Happy. As if he had hoped that she didn’t fancy him.”



Hermione was smiling fully now. “Ron, I never thought I’d be saying this, but thank the heavens for your lack of listening skills.”



“What?” he said confusedly. “Why?”



“I didn’t say she was over Harry. I said she’d given up on him. There’s a huge difference.”



“So she still...” said Ron, a small grin forming on his mouth.



“Of course she does, you blind idiot!”



“So,” said Professor Snape, “the Dark Lord has incorrect information?”



“Yes,” said Hermione.



“Good. That’s good,” said the Potions Master. “It might prove pivotal in the future.”



“Is that all he asked, Ronald?” said Luna shrewdly. She’d called him ‘Ronald,’ so it seemed she was suspicious of something.



Ron swallowed. “Yes?” It was more of a question, as if he was asking for approval. He had no idea how she knew, but...



Luna looked like she was about to comment further, but, unbelievably, Snape came to Ron’s rescue.



“I assume he wishes to speak with Miss Lovegood, next, correct?” he said.



“Yes!” said Ron, a bit more enthusiastically than was necessary. His face was as red as a Quaffle. “Er...I mean, yes, he does,” he said quietly.



“Well, then,” he put his mask on once more and cried, “Obliviate!



* * *


“Are you all right, Harry?” asked Ginny worriedly, as Harry came to.



“Yeah,” he said. “What happened?”



“You collapsed,” she said, breathing a bit easier. “Clutching your scar.”



“How does your sister feel?” asked the Dark Lord. “About Potter?”



“What?” asked Ron. “What do you care about how Ginny feels? What does that have to do with anything?”



“It has to do with everything, Weasley,” he said. “Everything.”



“Everything.”



“Ron,” he said softly. “It was Ron...Voldemort was asking him...” Harry stopped, and swallowed. She had a right to know. “Voldemort asked how you felt. About me.”



She looked him in the eye, and said, “And what did Ron say?”



“Nothing,” he said truthfully. “I woke up right as he was going to use Legilimency.”



She swallowed, and let out a breath. “We should move on,” she said, and reached out a hand to help him up. He took it, and felt a familiar feeling in his chest.



“Thanks,” he said, as he got to his feet.



“No problem,” she said, and then laughed. “Great lot of good the Pensieve did. I thought Professor Dumbledore wanted to be able to analyse these visions of yours. That’ll be pretty hard if you forget them by the time we get back. If we get back...”



“We’ll get back,” he said confidently. “We’ll get them back.”



And I won’t forget them.



* * *


“So,” said Snape. Luna had left the room, Wormtail taking her as he took the other two, “you going to tell us what else he asked? Because as Potter’s obviously told you, I’m not bad at Legilimency myself...”



“Fine,” he said, sitting down against the wall. “He asked if-”



He stopped, and turned his head slightly. “Do you hear that?” he whispered.



Snape and Hermione listened. There were footsteps. Coming toward their room. But not like Wormtail’s. They sounded as if, whoever it was, was wearing-



“High-heels?” muttered Hermione confusedly. “What Death Eater wears high-heels?”



“Lestrange!” whispered Snape quickly. He quickly put his mask on - for the hundredth time - and hid once again behind the door.



They heard a female voice, presumably Bellatrix Lestrange’s, mutter a charm, and the lock clicked open. But Hermione thought that it didn’t sound much like what she had heard of Lestrange’s voice. It seemed more...well, odd. Not that Lestrange had a pleasant voice, no. This sounded odd in a familiar sort of way. But not like Luna, either.



The door slowly opened. Of course, nothing else could be expected, since when one is in a frightening situation, doors do not open quickly, or even at a normal speed. It’s a rule.



A figure, obviously female, stepped into the room. They could see only a silhouette, as the only light was coming from behind her, but she did indeed seem more familiar than Lestrange.



The door clicked shut again.



Lumos!



“Professor!”



For there she was, standing in front of them. The very last Professor they would have expected to see. Except of course, Flitwick, who they had eliminated immediately.



It seemed odd, to see her in black robes. They did not suit her. She was the type of witch who was much more suited to shawls.



“What do you think you’re doing here?” said Snape, coming out of the shadows. “Trelawney.”



“I have just as much a right to be here as you, Severus. Though I don’t know why you are here either.”



It was odd, Hermione thought, to see such different professors in the same room. The only other time she could remember was in her third year, at Christmas. But at the same time, she couldn’t get the thought out of her mind that she had seen them together many times. Perhaps it was someone else who looked like them.



Snape looked at Trelawney critically. Out of nowhere, he said, “A wizard is never late, nor is he early...”



Trelawney blinked, which was greatly exaggerated by her glasses. Then she said, “He arrives precisely when he means to.”



“Er...” said Ron.



“Why did you just quote Tolkien?” asked Hermione, oddly.



“Because Dumbledore forgot to mention that he had another spy in the Death Eaters,” said Snape. “Another professor. Well, former professor.”



And...why did you just quote Tolkien?”



“Because Dumbledore thought that phrase was perfect to identify the members of the Order. I don’t particularly see why, but he is Dumbledore, after all.”



Ron looked confusedly between the three. “Who’s Tolkien?”



“She’s a spy?” asked Hermione disbelievingly. “Her?



“I am right here, Miss Granger,” informed Professor Trelawney. “Act like it.”



“This is a joke, right?” Hermione said. “Why is she a spy? What good does she do for the Order?”



“She-”



“I still am right here.



They ignored her.



“-is... I have no idea what good she does,” Snape said, shaking his head slightly. He was thinking hard, trying to come up with a possible explanation, and an even greater crease than normal formed between his eyebrows.



“The Dark Lord wished to have someone with the Inner Eye within his forces, so the Headmaster-”



“Oh, come off it,” said Hermione. “There is no way Voldemort believes you have the ‘inner eye,’” she said. Then, under her breath, she muttered, “I’ve often doubted if you even have an inner ear.”



Snape seemed to hear her, and almost snorted, but held it in. Ron and Trelawney either didn’t hear, or they didn’t get it.



“So the Headmaster thought it a good idea I become a spy, so-”



A look of understanding crossed Hermione’s face. She shook her head, a smile playing at her mouth.



“No he didn’t. He thought it a good idea you become a spy, for the sole reason of making Voldemort think you were a spy. Therefore, he is careful around you, and is probably planning a creative demise for you as we speak, while Professor Snape has no suspicion on him at all, and can do something useful.” She looked quite proud of herself.



“That is not true!” insisted Trelawney, though she looked as if she doubted herself a bit, wondering if Dumbledore had indeed thought her expendable.



“If that’s not true,” said Hermione, living up to her reputation of being rude to Trelawney, “than how ‘bout you make a prediction? Can’t be too hard can it? You did it everyday in class...”



“The Inner Eye does not see on demand!”



“No, of course it doesn’t,” said Hermione. “It doesn’t even get cable.”



No one got the joke.



“Wait...I see...” said Trelawney, staring at the wall. “I see-”



“Bricks?”



Blood. Blood will be shed here tonight. Your friend, the Lovegood girl. She should be careful.”



“Like that helps much,” muttered Hermione. “Is she here? No. So how would we warn her?”



Trelawney continued as though she didn’t hear her. “Your friend, Harry. He will meet his foe in a encounter unlike any other in time...” she said, and it seemed as though she was trying to think of something else. Something a bit more gruesome.



“A bird. It looks like...” She squinted, to give a better affect. “It looks like a...harpy. It will eat flesh tonight.”



“Oh, so a mythical creature is going to swoop down here, eat someone, and then...what?”



Pain. Great pain for your friend Harry.”



“Bravo!” said Hermione. “That was so convincing.”



“Take heed, Miss Granger. I suggest you believe me.”



“Or...”



“Your doom.”



“How dramatic!”



“So, why did you come here?” asked Ron, after the show seemed to be over.



“To tell you that your friend, Harry, is coming. In fact, he’s right outside,” she said, giving Hermione a look that said, Beat that!



“Oh...” said Hermione, her eyes widening. “So the ‘Inner Eye’ can...” she paused for effect, “see...through...windows?!



She beat it.



* * *


“Here it is,” said Harry, as they approached the Riddle House. He remembered, from fourth year, his vision. He was on an eagle owl, approaching this house from the sky. It was quite different actually walking up to it.



“Wands out?” Ginny asked.



“Wands out, d’you reckon?”



“Yeah,” said Harry, glad that Cedric had made the suggestion rather than him.



They pulled out their wands. Harry kept looking around him. He had, yet again, the strange feeling that they were being watched.



“Someone’s coming,” he said suddenly.



He remembered that as well.



From far away, above his head, he heard a high, cold voice say, “Kill the spare.”



A swishing noise, and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: Avada-



“Yeah,” said Harry. “Wands.” He fumbled in his sleeve for his, and held it at the ready.



He moved forward slowly, reaching his left hand out for the doorknob. It was unlocked. Apparently, no one was expected to try to enter the Muggle way, so it hadn’t been locked.



It was pitch dark inside. Not a single light in sight. He took a step in, and swallowed.



Lumos!



Ginny followed him inside. They were in an cavernous kitchen. They walked toward the door, and Harry was about to look for some stairs down, toward the dungeons, when he heard a scream. From upstairs. It seemed like it was the on the next floor up.



“That was Luna,” said Ginny fearfully.



“Then we’d better hurry.”



* * *


Voldemort raised his wand, breaking its connection with Luna. Every bone in her body ached, and she was relatively sure that neither of the others had been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse.



“What was that for?” she asked, lifting her head painfully.



That, was for my own entertainment pleasure,” said the Dark Lord, grinning.



“Sick,” muttered Luna, shakily getting to her feet.



“Thank you.”



“So, what’s your question for me?” she said, and took a small step forward.



“Who said I had a question?” he asked, as if it was an absurd thought.



“Ron.”



“Did he? Because I believe I told him that I wished to see you. I didn’t say I had questions.”



“Then what do you want?”



“Answers.”



Luna looked at him as if he was insane. Which he was. She put her hands on her hips.



“So, I lied. I do have questions. I just felt like playing with your pretty little head.” Her hands went behind her back.



Luna suddenly retched, vomit falling on the rug in front of her. Voldemort smiled widely. He did not hear the small click that had sounded while she threw up.



Scourgify!” he muttered, not even pointing his wand, and the mess disappeared. “Next time, do try to avoid the rug,” he said, as if it made clean-up a disaster.



He didn’t notice the quick smile that passed over Luna’s face.



“So, question number one...” he said, unknowingly impersonating a Muggle game show host. I suggest you do not inform him of it. “What do you know of Sybil Trelawney?” he asked suspiciously.



She did not expect such a question. She saw no reason not to answer. “She was the Divination professor, before Professor Umbridge sacked her.”



“What else do you know of her?” he said, a bit surprised that she had answered. He was about to look in her eyes.



“Um, some people think she’s a fraud, but I think she just misinterprets her predictions.”



“Have you ever seen her give an accurate prediction?”



“You mean one where she is exactly correct? No,” she said truthfully.



Voldemort seemed to think this over. He hadn’t noticed Luna slowly coming closer, her eyes on his wand hand. Hermione, had she been there, would have been positive Luna was about to try something idiotic. She may have been right, as Luna herself had quite a few doubts.



“Question two,” he began. Luna was merely a couple of feet from him now. He was looking at the wall.



“How do you feel about-” He stopped, and turned his gaze toward her.



He had not expected her to be right next to him. Did she float, or something?



“What?” he said, raising his wand hand.



“Nothing,” she said, as if she was bored, her hands still behind her back.



He blinked. “You are very odd, you know that?”



She took her chance. He did not really seem to be focusing on the wand in his hand. She took her hands from behind her back, and Voldemort was quite surprised to see a flash of steel in her right hand. He was quite a bit more surprised to see his wand clatter to the stone floor.



But nothing...nothing...could have prepared him for the sight of his thumb falling to the floor.



The knife in Luna’s hand clicked back shut. Voldemort bent to snatch up his wand, but, as some may know, it is extremely difficult to grasp something with a bleeding stump of a thumb. Hopefully, not many know how difficult.



Luna lifted her right foot, and brought it down on the wand. She slid it backwards, and it hit the wall opposite, bouncing back slightly, green sparks coming from the tip.



It was then that Voldemort remembered to scream. It was rather painful to have one’s left thumb cut from one’s left hand.



Wandless, the Dark Lord tried to grab the knife from her hand, but she pulled back. He raised his hand, the right one, the one with the thumb. He snapped his fingers, and the wand flew back to him. Blood was pouring over his robes, as he tried to take aim.



Luna had run back across the room, and was nearing the door...



Avada Kedavra!



...when it opened.



~ Next Chapter ~
Just Like Old Times



"Time flies."
~ Vergil



~ Coming Soon ~




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