Chapter 2

As the day dawned, the sunlight crept through the dark blinds in the room and gently caressed his careworn face. He lay in the bed, exhausted beyond reckoning. It had been a long night. One thing that he was truly grateful for was the fact that his wife had not ventured out of her study to torment him with her presence. He opened one eye and glared at the blinds, as if trying to intimidate the sunlight into retreat. The room was still dark, the upholstery barely visible. His bride of five months had had the presence of mind enough to not aggravate him further by making changes to his bedroom. He would have arranged for separate rooms but that would have been too suspicious. After all, the Ministry was single-minded upon this issue. More population. He snorted in disdain. To him, life seemed a wearisome burden. He wondered why anyone wanted to continue. He certainly had not wanted to survive the war. Hadn't expected to. Perhaps he was more cunning than he believed. Having lived to see the end and beyond of the second war was no mean feat. Perhaps he would have been grateful if he had had anything to live for. But fates were cruel. As always. Memories of last night were still fresh in his mind. He wondered if he would ever be free of perpetual murder and ferocious hunt for the surviving members of the Dark. Not if the Ministry had any say in it. He closed his eyes. It was too early yet.

"Oh, Severus… May I call you as such?" She giggled. Pathetic wench. Humming some disgusting melody in broken tone, she turned to face him. Red heels, overdone makeup, face filled with lust. How he detested her!

"Indeed... love…" he whispered gently into her ears. "But it is a… ah… liberty given to few… you are special…" He gently caressed her arms. Stroking one arm with his long, thin and pale fingers, he brought the other down to hold her by the waist, inwardly shuddering, and drew her closer. "So what was the interesting exploit you mentioned… earlier this evening?"

Her drooping eyelids rose to meet his coal black eyes as she ran a painted finger over his thin lips. "Oh, that… nothing... It was some customer, a former follower of His..." she slurred. The alcohol had claimed her senses. "I… he's my regular, you see…Lucius… He took me to this abandoned house last night… And tried…um... Something…" she stuttered. "With chains and cuffs. It was my first time. It was exciting, I..."

"Where was this house?" he interrupted, his tone was harsher this time. He wanted the information as quickly as he could and be done with the deplorable creature that he held in his arms. In her stupor, she didn't notice. He had had a slight inkling of Malfoy's relation to this abomination but the extent of it was unknown to him. He had employed gentle Legilimency but to no avail. Her mind seemed protected by something. The only other way was to coax the information out of her. This tedious task, it seemed, would end tonight. He would not have bed her anyway.

"Mm… Somewhere near the Mirabelle Park, you know?" she responded, blissfully unaware of his machinations, as she fumbled with the buttons in his coat. Yes, he knew the location. His former friend had shown it to him. Perhaps only him. He smirked. Tomorrow would be a long day. He must get some rest.

"No... I don't think so," he spoke in an expressionless voice. "Look at me."

She made an effort to raise her eyes to his, failing which, she smiled inanely. Letting go of her weight, she leaned against him. He stiffened and caught her wrist in his hand, none too gently.

"It is time for you to leave. Obliviate!"

However long and unbearable the night had been, the day promised to be worse. He would be called, by the Ministry, as soon as he reported of Malfoy's whereabouts. He would be compelled to join in the manhunt. More bloodshed, more violence, more agony! How he regretted the day he had voluntarily chosen to take the Dark Mark. He despised himself and the world for it. It had pushed him down a path from whence there would be no return. No return for the tainted.

The door to the left creaked open, announcing his wife. Not that he needed the creaking. His perceptive senses had been honed sharp to the point that they caused him physical pain if he concentrated. He drew a long breath and readied himself for her insufferable presence. She annoyed him. He hated her.

She stepped into the room and wordlessly crossed to the other door which led to the sitting room. Her eyes were puffy and downcast. Her faltering steps angered him further. Weak. Perhaps she had spent the entire night wailing over her lost love. Pathetic. She had been strong, he remembered. But now… she remained a mere shell of what she used to be. Lamenting wretch. Perhaps she had decided to waste away in grief. Good riddance, if that were the case. He had more pressing matters to attend to. He would not be able to conduct any classes today.

He swung his long legs over the mattress and silently crossed to the bathroom door. Fifteen minutes later, emerging from the shower, he espied his wife in her school uniform, ready for classes. The desolate, haunted look still adorned her features. She drew a sharp breath when she became aware of his presence. Ignoring her, he moved to the study room. His study. The only place where he would not have to bear her existence. The Sandglass sat patiently upon the table. For a minute, he halted his steps. It would only take a few minutes. He would see her and be back. No, he shook his head. Now was not the time. Perhaps later tonight. Yes. Later.

Gently removing the black cloak from the coat hanger by the window, he moved resolutely towards the door. It would be a long day, indeed.

Staring at the stained window by the bush, he tried to ascertain the positions of his comrades in action. Yes, Lucius was in. He could sense it in the distinct dark stench that his magic gave off. But his Ministry assigned Aurors wouldn't know of that, would they? Inept imbeciles. All of them. He could take them all down with the smallest flick of his wand and a whispered dark curse. But he would not. Not now. No.

The house, sitting in a glade, was small but quaint. Surrounded by beautiful trees and the like, it could have been a peaceful retreat spot. If only it hadn't been for the present resident. One Lucius Malfoy. The house had anti-Apparition wards, of course. They would simply have to enter the Muggle way. Break down the door. Or the window. From his position behind the rather large overgrown bush, he could see the back door beside the stained window. Tiptoeing, he moved with the stealth of a predator out to hunt its prey. Sneaking behind the bush, he had a clearer view of the door. He could perceive the ward that guarded the entryway. Silently, closing his eyes, he concentrated and whispered:

'Revelabunt protectione.'

Yes, he knew those wards. He smirked to himself. Typical Malfoy. Predictable. Moving his hands in a complicated star gold pattern, he fixed his eyes upon the door and muttered under his breath. The strained mist of magic cleared as the gateway unsealed itself. He took a quick look around for others. Sighting Smith, he motioned for them to follow his lead. Pressing his back to the wall, he crept up to the door and entered. Wand in hand, he looked around. It was a kitchen. Lavishly decorated.

Superfluous.

Useless.

Moving over to the door beside the cooking counter, he gestured the others to stay while he spied the room beyond. Carefully opening the door, inch by inch, he stepped into what appeared to be the drawing room. And upon the bejewelled couch sat his former friend, now a prey. Lucius. He seemed expectant of their arrival. Perhaps that was why he appeared so relaxed. Fool.

"Ah, well met, dear old friend. This wouldn't be a social call, I am guessing," Lucius spoke, his tone unfazed. His silver blond hair was neat as ever, tied behind him.

"Indeed, friend. I know you are aware of the reason… unsavoury as my presence to you might be," he taunted the blond man. "Now then, would you come quietly? Or might I have to employ some equally disturbing means to take you?" he chewed every word and spat at the man who grinned at him, unafraid.

"Oh, Severus, whatever gave you the idea…?" Lucius chuckled. "Did I not know that you would find me? One can only run so far… You, surely, acknowledge that," he continued as he got up from his seat and took a step towards the potions master. "What are you running from, Severus? Surely, you cannot relish this torment of you former allies too much? Is it you child bride? Or the now years dead filth..." he spoke quietly. "We were good friends, once." With that, he drew his wand from the cane, preparing for a quick attack. A jet of green light erupted from his wand and streaked towards Severus. But he was too quick and side-stepped the attack. Clenching his fist, he whispered his curse silently.

'Circumdare Flammis!'

A coil of flames shot through his wand and surrounded Lucius. It was a creation of his own. Cold hatred burnt in his heart for this man. For his deeds, for his words…

The flames choked and lashed at him. In a few seconds, deep burn marks could be discerned on his face and hands. Red, angry burn marks. Lucius, unable to breathe due to the uninterrupted onslaught of the flames surrounding him, passed out and collapsed on the floor. Unclenching his fist, he walked over to the huddled unconscious form. An expression of pure loathing was carved on his face.

At this moment, his comrades filed into the room. He looked around, contemplating. Was this life any different than the one he had forsaken? He was still the hunter. Only, his prey were former hunters themselves. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and sighed. Walking through the crowd of silently awed audience, he stepped out of the back door. He took one last look at the scene behind him, turned on his feet and Apparated.

There was no hope for the condemned.