"Harlot, yes, but traitor, never."

With each choice, conscious or unconscious, comes consequence – some say that at each turning point the world fragments, splitting smoothly into another possibility. The other option for a certain outcome did not make a large change in the world – Hogwarts still stood, Diagon Alley still bustled with activity every day. There was still a half-blood Prince, although the pun never worked quite as well – instead, there was rather a half-blood Princess, but fate did not pay her much heed at all.

The world continued smoothly, in fact, until October first.

--

Her outfit was not directly risqué, but still left amazingly little to the imagination for the long sleeves and covered neck. It was as if she knew that nobody wanted to look at her face, because she really wasn't beautiful, when it came down to it – the makeup helped, a little at least, but she knew where her advantages were. Her slightly greasy hair hung around her face like a thick curtain, straight bangs cutting across somewhat into her eyes – it was black, like her dress. In fact, she was amusingly monotone, if you didn't count the red lipstick, the pearls she was wearing roughly the same pale color as her skin. Despite the corset working to mould her body just-so and all the lace, it was very clear that she was not here to waste time – her feminine wiles were carefully planned with purpose.

Albus Dumbledore knew it was probably all reflex, but all in all, he simply had to think that the effect was rather lost on him: seeing a former student, especially one who was dragged into his office so often for waging her miniature personal war on a certain group of Gryffindors, even in such regalia meant that she was still a student. And besides, that nose.

The corners of her mouth twitched a moment into a deeper sort of frown; he paused to flip through the pile of papers on his desk. He had recognized the handwriting instantly, and it was hard not to find them what she had asserted they were. There was just the problem of motive, and why exactly she was here. He lingered on a page that had a neatly labeled diagram of Godric's Hollow, arrows pointing to possible locations of the Potters' house, before speaking. "I never would have fancied you for a Mata Hari, Severine."

"You flatter me, Headmaster." Her response was quick, tone dry and lightly sarcastic. "How I obtained these is of no consequence. I'm sure you and the Order would find them quite useful." She sounded rather pleased with herself; he watched a moment, expecting her to instinctively flinch and go to place a hand over where he knew she was branded with the Dark Mark. Instead she kept sitting overly straight in the chair, hands folded in her lap, expression neutral.

He flipped through another page – it was indeed a wealth of information. The diary's protective charms had obviously already been broken, the book singed a little at the edges; she had taken great care that it was safe to read. He gave a resigned sigh. "Very well. Name your price."

"Free." She smiled, being ever-so-careful to not show her teeth, coming unnervingly close to looking like the Mona Lisa.

He looked up at her, over the top of his glasses, obviously pausing a moment to try and interpret what she had said. It was always aggravating dealing with her, in a way – legilimancy was no help, right when he could have used it the most. He was having to get used to the idea quickly that she might be that good of an occulmens.

The smile remained on her face a moment more. "You do know what they say, Headmaster," Her voice was coy, even friendly. "Hell has no fury like a woman scorned."

He considered this.

It was a good point – such a good point that given a few more minutes the journal was safely tucked away in his desk, and she was quietly making her way out of his office and out of Hogwarts itself, her high heels clacking on the stone floors. She had promised more information, and he had politely not inquired as to how she was going to obtain it, because he already suspected the answer but preferred to sleep at night – and to make sure all of the plans were going well.