Sitting in her allotted seat at the grossly ornate table, Evie's fingers fidgeted and her eyes were fixated on a carved-out snakehead which ornamented a leg of the table and seemed to stare back. All the intended Death Eaters were present in their seats except for one. Even as the Voldemort swept stealthily around the table, grazing his long, spidery fingers across the top of the chairs which rose high above their heads.
"Are the plans in order?" He asked smoothly. They all knew who he addressed, yet no one met his gaze.
"Yes, My Lord." Evie replied blankly, still fixated on the masonry with glazed-over eyes. His stare turned to a grimace but he did not say a word. Finally, she tore her gaze from the table to meet his red, piercing eyes but, after a moment, her gaze was averted to the age-worn and weather-beaten door on the far side of the room.
"Where is he?" It was a command, not a question.
"I do not know, My Lord." She struggled to suppress tears and continue to block her mind properly. Clearing her throat hoarsely, she continued.
"Everything is prepared for infiltration at the school. And Dumbledore is, as usual, unawares." The crack in her voice betrayed her emotionless visage.
"Excellent." He hissed, sending shivers through all those present. A smirk crept onto his lips, or lack thereof.
"Very good, Evangeline. Go. Find him…and then bring him back to me." But before he had finished, Evangeline was already halfway down the second flight of stairs, headed straight for the entry doors. The whole house creaked but she paid no mind as she paced listlessly in the entry hall, still wringing her hands in anticipation. With very step, her worry grew. She could now hear someone being mercilessly yelled at from above; then again, the Dark Lord was never one known for mercy. This thought was no comfort. After what seemed like infinity, there was a loud bang as the double doors slammed open and a dark silhouette stumbled in, drenched from the rain. Evangeline jumped to the figure's side without hesitation. He was limping to some degree so she offered for the stranger to lean on her until she guided him into a nearby armchair. He was panting and Evangeline noticed that he was bleeding too. She gently parted the hair previously plastered to his face with water from the downpour which continued to plague the eroded manor. Looking into his black eyes, she became overwhelmed with emotion.
"Severus." She mumbled with relief into his soaked frockcoat as her arms clung around his neck almost desperately.
"I'm fine, Evie." He whispered into her ear as he stroked the length of her golden tendrils to console her. Looking back up into his eyes, then down at his shoulder she frowned.
"No. You're not fine. Look at you!" She motioned sadly towards his shoulder. Snape opened his mouth to forestall her rambling about how reckless he was, but the rant never came. Instead, she whipped out her wand and pointed it at the wound; after several seconds, it began to dissipate. She reeled on him, wand now pointed at his nose.
"If you ever do that again…" She did not need to finish; they both knew it was a part of the job. He smirked satisfactorily at the fact that she worried over him. She cared. No one else had ever cared. Without warning, Severus grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into a kiss. Shocked at first, Evie did not react. He snuck his other hand behind her neck and into a soft mess of curls pulling her closer. Evie succumbed and relaxed into the kiss, bringing her hands down the front of his coat and tugging gently in hopes of more contact between them. Then both pulled away breathless. Evangeline rested her forehead against his, closing her eyes and letting a tear fall. He wiped it away tenderly.
"Evie…" He whispered and, like a moth to a flame, she returned small, chaste kisses to his lips.
"We must get you upstairs by the fire. You'll catch a cold." She said, regretfully standing and helping him up.
"He wants to see you." Fear returned to her erstwhile peaceful eyes. Severus traced her jaw line gingerly with one finger, bringing it down her neck and collarbone softly and following the path with his lips, positioning kisses along the trail occasionally. He punctuated this quietly.
"I-will-not-let-him-hurt-you, My Angel."
Upon returning upstairs, Voldemort almost lit up. His eerie glow of paleness made it difficult to tell.
"Ah, Severus….I was beginning to think you had lost your way."
"Hardly, My Lord," Severus began insipidly. "I was merely avoiding trailers from The Order."