Sweet Juliet: Part 2

Chapter 25: A Promise of Sorts

By the end of term, things had changed at Hogwarts—or rather, they had changed back. Umbridge had left, so scarred by her experience with the centaurs that she was likely to be in St. Mungo's for quite a while. Dumbledore had been reinstated as Headmaster, Sybil Trelawney had been invited back as the professor of Divination, and Hagrid had been returned to his post as Keeper of Keys and Grounds. The Ministry as well, had been rather hasty to issue a public apology to both Harry and Dumbledore.

Juliet sat on the Hogwarts express, gazing out her window at the quaint little village of Hogsmeade. They were just about to pull out of the station, and she was looking forward to the journey back to King's Cross. It had been a tough few weeks, and she needed time to just sit and allow herself not to think. She laid her head on Ron's shoulder, thankful for the sturdiness of it, and though she didn't feel exactly content or happy, she was, for the moment, somewhat at peace.

They passed the ride as they always did, Ron obliterating Harry and Neville at wizard's chess so many times that they finally demanded to play exploding snap instead, and Hermione and Ginny trying not to look too confused when Luna said something odd. Juliet spent her time staring out at the passing greenery, watching it fly by at a speed she didn't know trains were capable of reaching.

All too soon, it was over, and they were gathering their things, exiting the compartment, and preparing to say goodbye. As they reached the platform, Juliet noticed that many of the Order members were there, no doubt to make certain that Harry stayed safe. She realized with a small amount of amusement that this would frustrate him, but she felt slightly comforted by it.

She hugged all of her friends, saving Ron for last. Leaning up, she gave him a lingering kiss on the lips. When they broke apart, she looked at him, reaching up to brush the hair out of his eyes and trying to ignore the aching feeling of longing in her gut. She couldn't bear the thought of not seeing him for three months.

As though he had read her mind, Ron leaned down and murmured, "You know, I think we can arrange for you to come stay with us for a while this summer. Just a week or two."

Juliet smiled, the first genuine smile that had crossed her face in weeks. "I'd like that."

Out of the corner of her eye, Juliet saw Severus waiting for her, just outside the crowd like always. She knew that he hated being in such a busy place for so long, and would want to be getting home, but she'd have to keep him waiting just a bit longer.

Harry was sullenly making his way towards a rather snooty-looking Muggle family, and her heart went out to him. Grabbing Ron's hand, she went over to join the rest of her friends and the Order members. Mad-Eye led the pack, and even from a distance, Juliet could see the apprehension in Harry's uncle's face at the sight of the rather severe-looking man.

"Now, listen here, Dursley," Mad-Eye grunted when they had all stopped in front of Harry's relatives. "Don't think we don't know how you've been treating Potter all these years."

"We won't stand for it anymore," said Tonks, her hair flashing a vibrant shade of red. "If you keep mistreating Harry, you'll have the Order of the Phoenix to answer to."

Juliet felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the shocked and petrified looks on the Dursleys' faces. The son, Dudley, was staring at Hagrid with a great deal of fear on his big, round face. Juliet made a mental note to ask Hagrid later what on earth he'd done to the boy. The woman—Petunia, if she remembered correctly—kept looking back and forth between Moody and Tonks, and Juliet got the feeling that she hoped she was only having a very bad dream.

So this was Petunia Dursley—Petunia Evans. As Juliet stared unabashedly at the horse-faced, bony woman, she wondered how she could possibly be the sister of the beautiful Lily Evans. This woman had known her father as a child, and she had scorned him just like all the others. Suddenly, her dislike for Harry's aunt grew tenfold.

Satisfied that the Dursleys had been scared into submission, the Order and Harry's friends retreated. Juliet kissed Ron and hugged Harry, Hermione, Neville, Luna, and Ginny one last time. Then, with a wave and a smile that didn't feel entirely forced, she turned and headed towards her father.

…

About a week after they arrived home, Juliet was in her room, lying stomach-down on her bed and reading. It was one of the books her father had gotten for her birthday the previous summer, and she'd only just gotten around to starting it.

There was an abrupt knock on the door, startling Juliet, and she was further alarmed when her father burst into the room, looking—for one of the first times Juliet was able to remember—rightly and truly terrified.

"Dad, what's wrong?" she asked, panic building in her chest.

Severus merely stared at her for a moment, like he'd never quite seen her before. "The Dark Lord wants and audience with you, Juliet. Immediately."

Before Juliet could even register his words—or the extent of the paralyzing fear that had begun to blossom in her—Severus took her arm, and she was encased by the suffocating sensation of Side-Along Apparition.

They appeared at a place Juliet had seen in photographs, but hoped that she would never have to visit in person: Malfoy Manor. It still stood grand and stately, but even Juliet could see the early signs of decay. The family patriarch had been arrested and sent to Azkaban, of course, so it was natural that the inhabitants of the house would fall into disarray without him. She only hoped for Draco's sake that they would recover soon.

His grip on her arm still vice-like, Juliet's father led her through—literally through—the gate and up the walk. He was holding her so tightly that it was beginning to hurt, and it only served to make her more afraid.

"Why are you in such a hurry?" she hissed trying not to sound accusatory. "You're hurting me."

Immediately, Severus' grip on her arm slackened (though he kept up his frenzied pace), and Juliet was reassured that it was indeed her father beside her, not someone disguised with Polyjuice Potion.

"I'm sorry," he whispered back, "but if we take too long, the Dark Lord may think we were plotting against him. Now, listen carefully, Juliet. Whatever you do, keep your mental shields up, but try not to make it obvious that you are doing Occlumency. Try to tell the truth as much as possible, but lie if you have to."

"Dad, I—"

"You must go, Juliet. I've been instructed to wait out here, but I'll be right here when you return. I love you."

Knowing it was hopeless to argue further, Juliet nodded. "I love you, too."

She turned, the sense of dread she had not quite been able to shake since Goyle's death building to an unbearable frenzy inside her. When she knocked on the door, it was opened by a sickly-looking Narcissa Malfoy. The woman looked on her with something like a mixture of pity and disgust, and then wordlessly pivoted and began to lead her through the house.

Juliet was scarcely able to control her trembling as they walked. If she were to drop dead right then, right there on the floor of Draco's house, she would regret it. Anything would be better than what awaited her.

She was taken to a grand dining room at the center of the house. Had the situation been different, she would have stopped to admire the effortless splendor of the place, with its high, arched ceilings, and long wooden table, framed by a magnificent stone fireplace.

As it was, she was distracted by something of far greater urgency.

He was there, in front of her, close enough that, if she took a few steps forward, she would be able to touch him. Seeing him like that, so tangible and real, was so much worse than when she had been in the graveyard, disoriented and fighting for her life.

Now all she felt was mind-numbing terror. It was a strange, petrifying thing to know that her life could be ended at any second, with the flick of a wrist and the utterance of a few simple words. It was unnatural, how easy it would be for her to die. How odd that she would spend her final moments reflecting on the horrible certainty of her own demise.

He was angry, that much was certain. His eyes burned red and inhuman, and without even meaning to, she fell to her knees. He advanced on her, and she wanted so badly to look away, but found herself captivated by the sheer white-hot intensity of his glare.

It was even worse when he spoke, high, cold and detached. "You have killed one of your fellows. What can I think other than that you are a traitor?" The words came out in a hiss, and Juliet could suddenly feel the enormous power of his mind, boring into hers relentlessly. She tried desperately to keep up her mental shields and, for the moment at least, she was successful.

Feeling as though the blood in her veins had turned to ice, determined to remain stagnant there forever, she turned her gaze to the ground. She would remain motionless as well, more unmoving than a statue, trapped in that one climactic moment until her very last breath.

No.

No, she wasn't going to give up that easily. She'd fought for her life before. She'd been doing it since she was a child, when her mother had gone crazy. She was well-versed in the art of survival. If she could convince him that she had done no wrong, he would let her live.

"He was attacking me," she gasped, pleased that her frantic desperation hadn't seeped into her voice. "He was going on and on about how things weren't going to his plan, and he wanted me dead. He tried to kill me."

Juliet could tell that the Dark Lord was listening by the way his attack on her mind ceased. She went on, sounding surer of herself with each word. "Please, my Lord," she said, the reverent title burning her tongue like acid, "I only did what had to be done."

What he did next surprised Juliet, and she knew the sight of it would haunt her for the rest of her days.

He smiled.

It was a cold, cruel smile, devoid of any mirth or genuine human happiness. It was a farce, something he plastered on his face more to instill fear than comfort. It was perhaps the most frightening thing she had ever seen.

"Perhaps," he said, sounding as though he'd just had a private joke that she would never get to hear the punchline to, "that you have more promise than I originally anticipated."

End of Book 2

A/N: I'm sorry to leave it off here! Don't worry, there WILL be one more chapter (an epilogue), but I can't write it now because I have class in ten minutes. Damn college… Anyway, Book 3 is currently in the outline stage, and I anticipate that it will be posted some time in October. Until then, thanks for reading! I know it's been a long, bumpy ride filled with endless update gaps, but I really, truly appreciate those of you that have stayed with me. It's your support and love that gets me through it all.

If you haven't, make sure to go and check out my latest Harry Potter story, The Golden Thread. It's a Tom Riddle/OC story inspired by Tale of Two Cities, and I'm very excited about it. I should be updating it (and posting the epilogue of this) later today. Until then, I love you all! Leave a review if you can!

Sincerely,

ChasedByTheShadows (Kenzi)