This was written for Emily, my fellow Wanderer! I hope you like this! :)

Prompts:

(character) Great Aunt Enid

Assassin!AU

(word) enemy

Entry for the Greek Mythology Competition

Nemesis: Write about revenge

Entry for the September Event: Back to School

(dialogue) "You look like hell." / "Yeah? I just got back."

(dialogue) "You have no sense of fashion." / "Well, I think that depends..." / "No, that wasn't a question."

Entry for the Gringotts Prompt Bank

For clarity, I adjusted the names so they would fit into Russian:

Evgenia is Enid.

Alexej is Alastor.

(5560 Words)

From Russia With Love

Revenge is a dish best served cold

A cold, sharp wind moved the thin branches of the leafless trees that lined up next to the snow-covered graves on the Novodevichy Cemetery, and the young woman standing in front of a very fresh grave pulled her scarf higher over her face. Her green eyes were blinking against the wind that seemed to freeze the lonely tear that was rolling over her cheek as she continued to look at the richly engraved marble stone by her feet.

Minerva Morosova

4th October 1935 - 1st November 1964

Know thy self, know thy enemy. A thousand battles, a thousand victories.

A thin, fresh blanket of snow started to spread over the floral wreaths leaning against the stone and the messages stitched onto the cotton ribbons attached to them.

Nobody except a handful of people knew why this young woman had been buried at Novodevichy; she hadn't been a known philosopher or scientist, nor an artist. She'd lived her life in a different world, one that was hidden from most people in the Soviet Union. For those people who knew who she'd been, she was a hero – her whole life, and also her death, had been dedicated to the USSR. But her name would never be known, and her deeds would be forgotten one day.

The young woman standing in front of the grave was one of the few people who'd known exactly who Minerva Morosova had been.

OoO

Evgenia Logviynova took a deep breath and turned away from the grave of her best friend and slowly walked through the snow, not paying attention to the graves on her left and right. Her heart was feeling heavy, and all she wanted was to get back to her flat to crawl under her blankets and forget everything that had happened in the last weeks. Maybe vodka would help to make her forget the guilt she felt, even if only for a few hours.

Slow, lazy steps carried her towards the street, while the memories once again took over – in her mind, she could see herself walking through a room in the same manner, her eyes gliding over smashed furniture that was smeared with blood. For a moment, she froze as she recognised the figure that was sitting on the floor, her back leaned against the wall while breathing heavily.

Evgenia shook her head, desperate to get rid of the horrible pictures. Her whole body had tensed, and the empty eyes of her partner Minerva still seemed to be hovering in front of her.

Minerva's family would never know how and why their daughter had really died, and it had hurt Evgenia to tell them those lies, even though she'd seen the truth. But she assumed that a lie was better in this case; she couldn't imagine how Minerva's parents would react if they heard that their daughter had been executed.

The lie about her death made everything so much easier for the KGB, but Evgenia felt like the weight on her shoulders had only been growing with it. However, it wasn't her job to question the tactics of her superior officers – all she had to do was fulfill their orders. And though she'd been ordered to stay at a distance from Minerva, her own partner, during that last mission, Evgenia felt like it was her fault that Minerva had been uncovered and killed.

She'd spent countless nights awake, trying to find the crucial hint by going over that mission again and again. From the minute they'd received their orders at the Lubyanka – the KGB headquarters – to the moment she'd entered the undercover apartment in Rome and found her partner's body – every tiny detail she turned around again and again.

But no matter how many hours she spent lost in her thoughts, torturing herself with the memories, she couldn't find an answer to the question how their targets had found out that Minerva was a KGB spy. Like always, their cover stories had been prepared perfectly, they'd known their roles, and thus had acted in character all the time. One of them dying had never stood on the list of potential risks, at least not for this mission.

And still, she felt like she'd missed something...

Evgenia ran a hand over her face as she reached the street and just wanted to wave for a taxi as a black car stopped right next to her, and a familiar man looked at her from the driver's seat. Nodding at him, even though he really felt like ignoring him, she climbed into the car on the passenger side and greeted him: "Boris. What a surprise to see you here, I assume you just happened to drive by by coincidence?"

Her tone was slightly threatening, and though she didn't feel too great, she relished in seeing the younger man gulp nervously.

"Comrade Logviynova, I've been sent to drive you to Lubyanka. An important meeting, comrade Medvedev said, and he wants you to attend," Boris explained while steering the car through the traffic of Moscow, looking slightly uncomfortable. Evgenia of course knew why – Minerva and her had always had a lot of fun by teasing the young man because he'd tried to flirt with Evgenia on his very first day of working for their department. With all the formality in the KGB and his blunder from his first day, Boris – whose last name Evgenia didn't bother to memorise – could easily be made nervous with a few words. Or maybe it was the knowledge that Evgenia was capable of killing him with only two fingers?

"Well, Boris, I guess it won't matter if I say that I had plans for today? It really is an inconvenience, I wanted to cook Solyanka."

She indeed didn't want to attend any meeting at the moment – everything about work reminded her too much of what had happened, and she really didn't know if she was strong enough yet to act as if she was ready to work. Alexej Medvedev, the boss of her small department, had given her time off to recover from the loss, and though she hated that he'd assumed that she was so fragile that she would need an extra long period off – she really needed it.

"Comrade Medvedev informed me that you would say something like that, and asked me to tell you that this is really urgent," Boris stammered, a little bit of panic gleaming in his eyes while he gripped the steering wheel harder than necessary and navigated them through the thickening traffic.

"Good, fine, no Solyanka," Enid sighed and grabbed a small makeup kit from her purse, starting to apply lipstick. She may feel horrible, but she really didn't have to look that way, she thought. Also, her action only seemed to be making Boris more nervous, which gave her another good reason for doing this. Smirking inwardly, she took the scarf off which she'd wrapped around her head and checked her dark blonde hair, ruffling through it until she liked the look of it.

Then, she winked over at Boris and sprayed some perfume on her neck, seeing how the young man twitched.

OoO

Maybe half an hour later, Evgenia walked up a hidden staircase which would lead her to one of the smaller conference rooms of the Lubyanka. A cold shiver ran down her spine as she passed the portraits of those who'd died during their service for their motherland, and whose names were only known by those people who were allowed to use this staircase. The higher she came, the more recent were the dates of death, and Evgenia gulped hard as she suddenly looked into Minerva's stern, green eyes.

For a short moment, she seemed to be paralysed, unable to move a finger as she stared at the portrait, her heart pounding so hard in her chest as if it wanted to crush her ribcage. Then, she heard voices far below her and snapped out of her trance, her eyes briefly flickering over the small gold plaque that hung under every picture and held the same sentence.

Lieutenant Minerva Morosova

4th October 1935 - 1st November 1964

Loyalty to the party - Loyalty to the motherland

The KGB motto made Evgenia feel odd on the inside, and she hurried to climb up the last stairs to her destination.

Upon entering the conference room, she saw that she was one of the last officers to arrive, and that only their boss was missing now. She tried to ignore the pitiful glances some of her fellow officers were giving her as she walked to her chair on the other side of the room – they were only making her feel worse. As if she was a poor little girl that was whining in sorrow.

Before she could sit down, the hidden door through which she'd come was opened again, and their boss, Colonel Alexej Medvedev, entered the room, causing everybody to stand at attention before he gestured them to sit down, glaring into the round.

"Ladies, gentlemen," he growled, causing Evgenia to smile inwardly – he always tried to sound rough and emotionless, but she knew that a different man was hidden under that mask. "Thank you for following my invitation. I just received an important message from one of our informants in London – the murderer of our dear comrade Morosova checked in at the Ritz this morning."

A low murmuring immediately filled the room; only Evgenia stayed silent, blinking a few times while a chaos of feelings crashed down at her. She couldn't even comprehend what she was feeling, as it was just too much. Her right hand started to tremble, and she grabbed it under the table with her left one in an attempt to soothe herself.

"Comrades, comrades, please. Now, why all of you are here. I didn't tell you until now because we weren't sure, but... Lieutenant Morosova has been tortured before her execution, and we do fear that she might have given away names of fellow KGB officers operating for our department."

Evgenia gulped, feeling as if every breath she took was burning like fire. She wanted to jump to her feet and scream at Alexej that Minerva would never had given away any information, that she'd been a strong woman who nobody could break...

But she could barely concentrate on the discussion that broke out immediately, again and again seeing the pictures of her dead friend, sitting in a puddle of her own blood, a single, perfectly round wound in her forehead...

She was glad when she was brought back to reality by Alexej's strong exclamation for everyone to shut up; he was glaring into the round, obviously angered about things that some of the other officers had said. Probably they'd accused him of endangering them all by not informing them that it was possible that someone knew their real identities and was able to sell this highly sensitive information to their enemies.

"It's been decided that one of you will be sent to London to get us rid of this potential risk," Alexej announced, and for the first time during the meeting, the chaos in Evgenia's mind cleared. In this moment, she made a decision, and she knew that it was the right one.

Silence filled the room, nobody was raising the hand, and all eyes immediately fell on Evgenia as she stood up without hesitation. Determination filled her eyes as she looked directly at Alexej and said with a strong voice: "I volunteer for this mission."

Alexej's eyes widened in shock for a moment, then, his expression returned to his usual stern, untouchable glare. Clearing his throat, he replied: "Major Logviynova... into my office, please. The rest are dismissed."

OoO

Evgenia didn't even wince as Alexej slammed the door of his office shut behind him, and she'd already expected what came next: him turning around and looking at her with a rather soft expression, worry clearly written in his eyes. Not many people had seen him like this before, and Evgenia assumed that she was the only person in the world that knew that a polite man with a lot of sensibility was hiding behind this scarred face that looked so hard and merciless most of the time.

"Enid," he whispered her nickname which only he and Minerva knew. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Why shouldn't I not be sure, Alastor?" Evgenia asked back, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "This bastard killed my partner and made her suffer before it. It's only fair if you let me finish him before he can harm any other agent of ours."

Of course Alexej could tell that she wasn't volunteering for this mission because she wanted to keep the other agents safe – he knew her well enough to clearly see that she was out for revenge. It was the only thing that kept her from falling back into the daze that had kept her from sleeping, from drowning in her guilt again. There it was, the chance for remedy, even though it was only for herself, and she hoped that he wouldn't deny her this.

"You've been through a lot lately, and I'm just worried about you, Enid. You've been a shadow of yourself since Minerva's death and I don't want you to endanger yourself because you want to make amends for something that wasn't your fault," Alexej answered, taking one step forwards and gently taking her small hand into his larger one. "Minerva wouldn't want you to commit to something like that without thinking it through thoroughly!"

They looked each other into the eyes for a very long moment, Alexej still holding Evgenia's hand, and then she stated matter of factly: "But she would try to avenge my death, make this bastard pay. And the least I can do is to do the same. I owe her that."

"I know."

"Are you going to let me go?" Evgenia questioned, not breaking their eye contact once. It felt good to be under his gaze, and to know that he worried about her. In the last weeks she'd felt like she'd lost the only person who'd understood her – Minerva had been her best friend, and they'd been since they'd been recruited for the KGB. But now she was subtly reminded that there was someone else who was caring about her, who wanted her to be as safe as it was possible in their job, and he was standing right in front of her.

Alexej reached up with his free hand and gently cupped her cheek and quietly said: "I don't want to. But I guess I have no other choice."

A tiny smile played around the corners of her mouth as she ran her thumb over the back of his hand and leaned her face into the palm of his other, murmuring: "Thank you."

"Minerva... she's very lucky."

"Why? She's dead."

"To have a friend like you," Alexej explained with a slight sigh. "You're an extraordinary young woman, Evgenia. Please promise me that you'll come back home safely."

"I'll bring you something from Twinings."

OoO

Assignments abroad had always held some kind of special excitement for Evgenia – only the smallest part of the population in the USSR was permitted to travel into countries that were outside the Eastern Bloc, and ultimately, many of them were working for the government. It had taken Evgenia and Minerva some years to work their way up the ranks to be considered for assignments outside the Soviet Union, and though they were work-related travels, she'd enjoyed seeing new things. Every time they'd started the long travel from Moscow to their destination, it had been the beginning of a new adventure.

However, as Evgenia sat in her compartment of the train from Moscow to Berlin, she didn't feel the usual excitement. She was tense and slightly melancholic as she stared out of the window, watching how the landscape danced past. Never before had she travelled alone, and it felt odd to her to be on her own, only having her thoughts and a few books to keep herself occupied.

Again and again she read the information she'd been given about her target and stared at the picture attached to the file, biting her lip. Dark eyes were staring back at her, and she caught herself how she imagined watching the light in the man's eyes die. She had the strong desire to make him pay for what he'd done, and she wanted to make him feel the same pain and fear that Minerva must have felt right before he'd pulled the trigger.

Her lips silently moved along as she read the first page of the file she would have to burn soon for the seemingly thousandth time.

Antonin Sergeyevich Dolohov

Born on 30th August 1934 in Novosibirsk

Former KGB lieutenant, defected in 1961 during a mission in Spain. Has been under the suspicion of selling information to the enemy during his time as KGB officer. Is now likely providing information to the one who pays most.

Considered a high risk target, prefers to use very violent methods.

Dolohov. The name seemed to be burn itself into her cornea, deeper and deeper with every time she read it. A cruel face was shown on the photograph, black, unruly hair and dark eyes that belonged to a man who didn't seem to have a problem with killing whoever got into his way.

For a moment, Evgenia tried to remember if she'd seen him around before – he was about her age, and maybe he'd come across Minerva and her in Lubyanka. This could be the explanation to why he'd been able to tell that Minerva was a KGB officer... and maybe he'd tortured her out of pure joy. Her guts seemed to be turning upside down at the thought, and Evgenia had to lie down on her narrow bed to keep the feeling of sickness at bay.

Someone from their own rows.

Of course, their business was hard and ruthless, she'd seen a lot of death and destruction in her still young life and often she'd often enough been involved into fights where she'd been forced to inflict heavy injuries to someone before being able to end their life. But no one she knew had ever used more violence than necessary – they were killers, sent out to end a life as fast and traceless as possible, and torture didn't exactly comply with these two requirements. Operating mercilessly and with cruelty were two different things for Evgenia, and the latter was something she never wanted to do.

Because even if it was her job to kill people – which definitely hadn't been her dream job as a small girl – she had some kind of honour that she wanted to keep.

OoO

London welcomed her with a dark sky and rain, and the weather didn't clear up for the whole day, but Evgenia didn't mind at all. Exhausted from the long journey, she slept nearly ten hours after arriving in her hotel. In the evening she drove to the Ritz and to her, the city still looked beautiful through the raindrops coated taxi window. The lights of the city made the water on the glass shimmer, and she couldn't stop looking outside, drinking in every detail.

She was dressed in a dark pink cocktail dress, wearing matching make-up and had twisted her hair into a bun – everything to look as sophisticated as possible, so she would blend in. It wouldn't exactly help her mission if she sticked out the moment she entered the restaurant.

The concierge jumped forwards with a huge, black umbrella the very moment the taxi stopped in front of the hotel, and after she'd payed the driver, she allowed the young man to escort her the two meters from the car to the entrance of the hotel.

It didn't take long until Evgenia was seated at a small table by the window. This of course wasn't the first time she was sitting in a luxurious restaurant, but still it amazed her every time – she just wasn't used to so much pomp and abundance.

From her table, she had a perfect view over the whole restaurant, and while she was skipping through the menu, she had time to let her gaze wander. It was still early, and so she wasn't surprised that Dolohov hadn't showed up yet – she just hoped that he was still residing in the hotel and hadn't changed location. Even though that wouldn't be a big inconvenience, it would mean that she wouldn't be able to fulfill her assignment as fast as possible, and she wanted to get over with this soon.

When she was already sipping her rosé wine and waited for the truffle tortellini she'd ordered, he finally arrived, making brief relief flood shoot through her. Dolohov looked less brute in this surrounding than on the picture in her file; in contrary, he appeared nearly sophisticated in his dark suit that seemed to be tailor-made. His black hair was neatly combed and only his high cheekbones showed where he was really coming from.

Their gazes met for a short moment, and Evgenia sent a flirty smile into his direction to mask that she was thoroughly observing his face as he looked at her, scanning for any signs of recognition. It didn't matter how guarded someone was, they always gave off some unconscious signs that could tell a lot, and she was trained to spot those.

She was unable to describe how glad she was when she realised that he didn't know who she was, and his smile was genuinely polite as he approached her, indicating a bow as he stopped right in front of her.

"Good evening, Miss. Would it be too keen of me to say that you were the first I noticed when I entered and that I would be a pleasure for me to spend dinner with you?" He proposed in accent-free English that was a KGB trademark. Evgenia could barely believe that this was truly happening, that her target was coming towards her on his own accord, not suspecting that he was walking right into his death.

Putting on her most friendly face, she softly answered: "I would be delighted, Sir. My name's Enid, Enid Longbottom."

She offered him her hand, and he grazed her knuckles with his lips before introducing himself: "Anthony Downey."

He sat down and quickly ordered a steak and a glass of red wine before he concentrated on Evgenia, his body language open and unguarded – he really didn't suspect anything.

"So tell me, Enid... what does a beautiful lady like you do alone in London?" Antonin smiled before taking a sip from his wine, never really turning his attention away from her. He looked seriously smitten whenever she fluttered with her long eyelashes.

"I'm here for a little bit of sightseeing," she explained, letting her fingers play around the stem of her wine glass. "I've always dreamt of seeing London."

It contained at least a little bit of truth – as a child, she'd wished that she would one day be able to see London, and it was still her favourite city from all those she'd visited through the years. Also, she'd really never had much time to see the really important sights of London, as she'd always busy working.

Over the main course, she found out what his cover story for his London visit was, and before dessert was half eaten, she received an invitation into his suite, thanks to her flirting with him a lot and being able to adjust to the interests he was expressing during a conversation. She kept him drawn towards her, even though this wasn't exactly the tactic she'd had in mind while travelling to London. Flirting with the man who'd killed her best friend felt awkward, but Evgenia was trained to do what needed to be done without paying much attention to her own feelings. It had been part of her training to fake feelings and interest believably, and Dolohov was the best example that this worked good, especially connected with a pretty face.

After finishing dessert, Evgenia accompanied Antonin to his suite, where he let the room service bring a bottle of champagne. It was clear what his intentions were, even though he wasn't showing it too openly, and Evgenia intended to play with his desire a little bit. The longer she stayed in his suite tonight, the more she could learn about its layout, which would only benefit her should she plan to kill him there. She wasn't entirely sure yet if it was the safest way and place to do it, but at least there weren't many rooms around his suite – only three other suites were on that particular floor, reducing the risk of being seen or heard.

It was nearly midnight when she excused herself, but not after accepting his invitation to dine in his suite the following evening.

OoO

For Evgenia, the decision hadn't been exactly easy. She didn't have anyone to consult, she was completely alone with it, and she couldn't know for sure if she wasn't being uncautious by planning to kill Antonin already on her second evening in London. On the other hand, the less time she left him to get suspicious, the safer she was. Also, nobody would suspect anything if she only appeared twice in the hotel, which maybe would make her look like a prostitute with a very good disguise.

When she arrived at the Ritz and he led her into his suite, she noticed that the dinner had already arrived – something that could work for her advantage. The roomservice hadn't see her come, and the entrance hall had been too full for someone to notice her.

"You look lovely," Antonin greeted her, his gaze wandering over the black pants she was wearing to a matching black sweater and a scarf that was lying on her braided hair. Black leather gloves concealed her hands, and blood red lipstick coloured her lips, matching the occasion. The door closed behind her and she smiled sweetly at him.

"Thank you."

She could tell that this outfit definitely wasn't what he'd been expecting to see from her, but she didn't care, of course. He wouldn't live long enough to be annoyed about her less than revealing clothes.

Over the whole day, she'd been feeling nervous and had asked herself if this was a good idea, but now, as she was standing in front of him, she was calmer than ever. Evgenia didn't doubt her plan anymore, and all she was thinking of now was Minerva, and all the plans and dreams she'd had for her still young life. For once, the memory of Minerva's empty green eyes were helping her to feel more sure about her decision, and showed her that this was the right thing to do.

He turned his back to her to lift the metal covers from the plates on the dining table, and with one swift move, she pulled a gun with attached silencer from her purse, aiming exactly in between his shoulderblades. Antonin spun on his heel enthusiastically, but his smile faded immediately as he spotted the gun in Evgenia's hand.

"I should have known," Antonin spat in Russian, and Evgenia smirked, raising her gun higher so she aimed directly between his eyes with a steady hand.

"You're slacking, Antonin. Have you already forgotten everything they taught you?"

Her finger was touching the trigger, and she didn't hesitate for a second before she pulled it; Antonin's eyes widened in shock, then he fell backwards, blood pooling from the single shot wound in his forehead.

His body hit the ground with a thud, and Evgenia stared down at him, whispering: "For Minerva."

Only now did the weapon in her hand start to tremble; she tried to fight against the urge to shoot him into the face, didn't want to be taken over by her anger...

Placing the weapon on the ground with a stony expression, she looked at Antonin for a last time, feeling cold and empty inside.

But at least the pain about her best friend's death was gone...

And then she hurried to get out of the suite, leaving the cold body and the still steaming dinner behind. Nobody saw how she walked through the back entrance, and she was long gone before the body was discovered.

OoO

Evgenia stared into her vodka glass and ran a hand through her already disheveled hair. She'd arrived in Moscow in the early morning hours, and after sleeping the exhaustion of the travel away, she had made her way to the little bar she'd always visited with Minerva after missions – either to celebrate their success or to drink away the memories.

Before the last mission, she would never have visited this place – too many memories that could potentially pain her. But now she didn't have such a big problem with it anymore.

Minerva's death had been avenged, and Evgenia felt like something inside of her had changed. The burden slowly seemed to be lifting itself off her shoulders as the realisation finally began to sink in. She'd done it, she'd had her revenge.

Evgenia wasn't surprised when Alexej approached the corner of the bar in which she was sitting, ordering a vodka for himself while walking past the waiter. He sat down right next to her, wordlessly at first; his blue eyes mustered her before he grumbled: "I knew I would find you here. You look like hell."

"Yeah? I just got back. Maybe I should worry more about the fact that you always seem to know where I am," Evgenia sighed, suddenly feeling how tears started to sting in her eyes.

She didn't want to admit it, but she hadn't allowed herself to cry, or at least to really let all the emotions break out. In her opinion, she'd had to stay strong – Minerva had never been a person to show weakness, and Evgenia had thought that she would have to do the same so she wouldn't taint her friend's memory.

But now, everything was over, and suddenly, tears were flowing freely over her cheeks; sobs were shaking her slender body and Alexej slung one of his muscular arms around her shoulders, pulling her against his chest. It seemed as if all the guilt and the sorrow were breaking free, leaving her body and soul, and after a few minutes, she sniffled: "I'm okay... I'm okay..."

She wiped over her face with the sleeves of her sweater before she gave Alexej a red-eyed smile, then she let her gaze wander over his appearance.

"Hell, Alastor, you have no sense of fashion," she hissed, her fingers curling around her vodka glass.

"Well, I think that depends..."

"No, that wasn't a question," Evgenia interrupted him immediately, shaking her head so hard that her hair was jumping around her head. "I really should have brought you something from Gieves & Hawkes. This tie is horrible, who gave you that thing?"

"That would have been you, Evgenia," Alexej replied dryly and Evgenia grinned while reaching for her purse. She pulled a little package out and threw it into his lap.

"Well, then it looks great, of course. It's the shirt that ruins it."

Alexej chuckled and shook his head while opening the little package, revealing several tea samples from Twinings and other luxury products, including fudges and chocolates from Harrods. When he shot her a questioning glance, she shrugged: "I promised I would bring you something from Twinings."

"You also promised me to come home safely. It's nice to see that you listened to me for once."

"Well, it made a nice change, you know... but don't you dare to get used to it!"

She leaned over and pressed a soft kiss onto Alexej's cheek, feeling the thin scars under her lips; she was still sitting so close to him on the bench that their thighs touched. It felt comfortable to be so close to him; his warmth seemed to chase all the negative feelings of the past weeks away, and Evgenia couldn't think of anything that could have made her feel better than this.

"Shall we drink to Minerva?" Alexej asked, his voice not sounding as hard as normally, and Evgenia liked the thought that it was her who made this tall, bulky man soften.

She nodded, and they both grabbed their vodka glasses, raising them and Evgenia quietly said: "We miss you."

"To you, Minerva."

They both emptied their glasses with one gulp, slamming them onto the table simultaneously. Evgenia didn't bother as Alexej wrapped his arm around her again; she just leaned into him and allowed herself to relax for the first time in forever, hoping that life would get brighter again.

Well, as bright as the life of a KGB killer could be.