The night pressed against her, that sweet lake-tinged air drifted in the damp dungeon halls. Night thirteen. One more day and night and her task would be completed upon placing the written report on her bosses desk. Top marks in disguise had paid off, for this was her forte. The extra talent of shape-shifting was only a bonus to her powerful invisibility spells. Of course, she was still clumsy, but rarely on the job. Once her instincts kicked in, the awkward movements and frequent accidents were not often a problem.
He moved and she followed close behind. Too close. The man had a flair for the dramatics and it would not do to be caught in a sudden robe billow, but it was the only way to enter the chambers at the same time. She slipped by, and was in a shadow before he could even close the door after himself.
There was a crackle around him of tension and unease, and a part of her began to wonder if two weeks was too long to tail this man before he noticed something. Two weeks was too long to spend constantly watching any person, let alone an aloof mystery. She had done this before many times, and went about it with no personal interference. Once it was in the report, it was shed from her memory. Nymphadora Tonks had no love for the secret lives of others. This man was no different.
He was obviously lonely, bitter and in need of a good hug. She had read his depressing journals without guilt, absorbing every detail of his past in a methodical attempt to piece together the man that was Severus Snape. He had become too important too the Order to have secrets of his own, and on Dumbledore's hesitantly given command she had been assigned to her prey.
The two weeks may well have been wasted, though. In that time she had learned many facts about him, but almost nothing about who he was under the guise of professional malice. It had been neither pain nor pleasure to watch him, but she was rather intrigued at what could be hiding beneath the stern, malicious figure who picked fights at Order meetings.
The room setting was no different from the evenings of the last twelve, as he emerged from the dining hall after supper and entered into his domain. Candlelit, gloomy and devoid of any resemblance to humanity in the poor excuse for decor. He was different, however. She watched him peel off his potion stained robes, the black to cover them, and pad to the shower. A few minutes later he returned, clean and refreshed, but instead of pulling on a dressing gown and reading, he re-dressed trousers and a crisp, white shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow.
She watched curiously at this new behaviour. It was almost like he was expecting a guest. The smaller two person sized table in the corner was pulled out, cleared of books, and draped in a simple black cloth. He hummed as he conjured pairs of small plates, wine glasses and napkins. Tonks racked her memory, thinking about when he had mentioned a guest, but came up blank. He had said, done and expressed no hint of a visitor that night. A smile quirked her invisible lips. Perhaps this was the secret she had been waiting for, a guest to reveal it all.
She looked back as he finished with a elegant tray of fine cheeses and soft baguette, and an unlabelled bottle of what appeared to be red wine. It looked like a romantic date, and she blushed at the idea of Snape's visitor being a lover. He went into his bedroom and in his arms was a soft, wool blanket bundled loosely. If he puts that on the floor by the fire, I am so going to wretch. A date was bad enough, but being in the same room as a couple being intimate was painful. Of course, her training covered it, but it did not make it less than repulsive.
But he did not put the blanket by the fire. He strolled precariously close to her shadow, and she shrank back, ready to bolt to another spot. The only expression on his face was a hint of amusement. She processed all her escape routes, and noted his behaviour to put in the report.
Suddenly he tossed the blanket over her head, and tackled her to the floor. She may have been invisible, but she was definitely solid. He crushed her with his body, immobilizing her limbs, and she did not bother to struggle to save herself the energy. He ran the hand that was not under her over her blanket-covered form, identifying his stalker. She did not make a single noise, but could not concentrated on changing her shape. Not with him where he was.
"I see, or rather feel, that I was right. Young, female and ministry trained." He stated, the blood pounding in her ears. All she could see was grey blanket, and all she could feel was the hard floor and his heavy body. There would be bruises tomorrow. He pulled himself up, keeping the blanket around her tightly as he dragged her to her feet. They stumbled as he pressed her into the chair at the table, but he could not conjure bonds without knowing where her limbs were. The problem was solved by him keeping her restrained with his body again, while sliding his hand until her found her leg, followed by her ankle. The arms he bound to the chair at the elbow.
She shivered at the touch, training flying through her head looking for tips of escape. She felt him move away, and pictured his head turning to survey the odd site of his invisible captive. It was almost comedic in her mind how much she must have appeared like a sheet-wrapped child costumed as a ghost. Almost.
"I suppose you would like to be able to see." He rumbled, the sound now coming from behind. She did not speak. Sight returned and the blanket disappeared. She saw the set table before her, and he took the opposite seat. After sitting back a moment, he uncorked and poured two glasses of wine, placing one within her stunted reach.
"Please feel free to refresh yourself, you may be here awhile." The invitation was punctuated by him taking a mouthful, and holding it to taste against his tongue. She did not move. He grew impatient, and set down the glass.
"Listen, I do not have all night to play games. You can either tell me who you are and who you work for, or you can enjoy some wine and pretend I did not just catch you sneaking around my chambers.
She reached for the glass, and took a tiny sip. The man was a potions master, after all, and who knew what was in it. A moment's trial revealed it as nothing more than good a good burgundy and she drank deeper. He lazily tore the bread in half, and then in pieces. She watched him slice a thin wedge of brie, and place it before her on the baguette. The tastes mingled pleasantly in her mouth. What is he pulling, here? She pondered, still frightened. He had leaned back with his wine again, watching what he could see of her speculatively.
"Congratulations, Madame, the Order has just deemed you worthy of the title of spy." She choked on his words. He continued in a smug drawl. "This was your final test, and you have passed it adequately. My job in this is to alert Dumbledore as soon as I sense I am being watched, and normally I can find them within a day or so. He tells me you have nearly completed the two weeks, and I have noticed nothing to hint at your presence until today." The bonds vanished, but she stayed put. Tonks was starting to feel pretty offended. Dumbledore had toyed with her.
"I do not want to know your name, and I do not want you to reveal yourself. I just wanted to make sure you were treated properly in this victory." He poured her more wine, and pushed over another slice of topped bread. Strawberries appeared with a flick of his wand. "Perhaps something sweet?" Something odd clicked in her very confused mind, and she spoke, causing his eyes to widen slightly.
"Severus Snape, are you trying to seduce me?" The idea was crazy, and her voice stumbled over the words.
"Yes." He answered blandly, no trace of embarrassment as he gazed into the ruby depths of the liquid.
"Why." She demanded. He responded by getting up and crouching behind her chair. He felt gently into the air with his hand until his fingers met her bare neck, and they slide up to her short hair. There was a long, painful silence that he broke with a casual air.
"Because you are good. You are very good. You clearly excel at this game. That pleases me." His lips whispered down her throat, and she felt much too warm. Why not? Said a traitorous voice in her head. Have some fun. He does not know who you are, and the man does clean up nice. His hand traced a path down her back, and up again. She stood up suddenly, torn between running away and a lusty romp with a man she despised, but who was way too sexy for his own good. Alright, compromise. A little bit of fun, but nothing serious. Her decision made her want to giggle, and she watched his hand look like it was gliding over nothing as it was really hugging her curves,
Tonks turned to face him, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders to pull him down for a kiss. This is so weird. Two weeks ago he was nothing but a bastard, now, my tongue is in his mouth. She knew what he wanted tonight, and it was starting to become very apparent that he was enjoying himself. She had no intention of being part of that, but for now she would enjoy her victory, and the reward he had offered.
The evening passed oddly fast, and though there was very little in the way of speaking they both had a good time alternating competitive rounds of board games in front of the fire, where they would laugh and accuse each other of cheating, and thoughtless kissing. She stayed invisible, and when the clock hit midnight Severus Snape still had no idea who she was.
She left with a last kiss tingling on his lips, and escaped with only a little regret back into the shadows of the hall. Well, even if it was just a training session, Dumbledore will certainly find my report interesting, she thought with an impish smirk.