Chapter 2: The Spy
That night as she stepped out of her Floo and greeted her small, fox-like puppy, she felt a twinge of guilt that she had not been completely honest with Professor Dumbledore. She had not told him about the spell she had created several years ago, a spell she had been sure of theoretically, but had not been able to test formally until tonight, when she had felt the tell-tale heaviness of her tongue after ingesting the Veritaserum. But, because of her spell, she had felt no corresponding dullness of the mind, nor any compulsion to tell the truth. It had been quite clever really. She had even discovered a certain configuration of runes that, when added to any spell, made that spell permanent, and not subject to degrade over time, as was the case with most charms. Marian had kept her anti-truth spell a secret and never shared it with anyone, afraid that if it ever leaked out, that people would resort to even more invasive techniques to get the information they wanted—techniques like Legilimency (which had almost died out) and…torture.
Marian had not made this discovery by accident. It was one of the deepest quirks-or flaws perhaps-of her character that she despised anything invasive or manipulative. She had an almost obsessive love for freedom and privacy, and hated more than anything else the thought of violation or compulsion-of the mind, the body or the will. She did not want to be dependent on anything but herself and God. She disliked the idea of relying on others for her security, and did all she could to lessen her dependence on everything, from the government to a wand.
As a child, she had been capable of impressive feats of wandless magic, and it had bothered her when her dad told her she needed to rely on her wand to be a good spell-caster, because Marian knew that she possessed the magic: the wand was only a tool. Marian grasped that some men could kill with their bare hands as easily as with a knife, that it just took considerably more skill and training—but one never knew when one would be without a knife. So Marian ruthlessly applied the same principle. Even as a child, she stubbornly practiced wandless magic for hours at a time, focusing on this one object with all of her considerable intensity. And it had paid off spectacularly. Not that she ever told anyone. Marian still carried a wand, but it was mostly for show and she only used it in company. It had taken years of practice and concentration, but she could now do the most complicated spells wandlessly, and often invented charms or adapted known spells to be used without a wand.
Once she mastered this art—she had never read about anyone that had taken it as far as she had—she challenged herself even more by learning to do everything nonverbally. Now she could rest securely in the knowledge that, unless she was unconscious, she would never be unable to defend herself. She would be just as formidable disarmed, and held in the Full-Body Bind, as any other wizard would be with full possession of his faculties and wand pointed at his opponent.
But this had become sort of a trend for Marian. She hated the idea of being forced—violated. She had taught herself Occlumency because she couldn't stand to think of the vulnerability of her mind. She created unauthorized transportation for herself because she refused to have her movements monitored and controlled by others. Marian knew she was a bit wary, but didn't apologize for it. Everyone has a secret preoccupation, after all. At least hers was sensible, and not something like trying to find the perfect piece of chocolate cake or building the world's tallest house of cards. At least, that's what she told herself. And even though she was going to be working for Professor Dumbledore now, she still felt entitled to her own secrets and a certain amount of autonomy. In the end, she trusted her own judgment and wanted the spell to remain hers to bestow, not his.
Also, she realized that if Dumbledore knew about her invulnerability to every known truth serum and truth spell (they all shared a common factor, and so could have a common inoculation), then he would never really trust her, even though she had not, in fact, lied to him. She had given him some incriminating information about herself, like the fact that she was an Animagus—although she rarely transformed-but had by no means told him everything.
The clouds rumbled as Marian Apparated outside Number 12, Grimmauld Place. At first, she thought she must have gotten the address wrong, but when she spoke it aloud and the house appeared, squeezing its way in between its two neighbors, she was filled with admiration for the cunning of the owners. She knocked carefully and the door was abruptly tugged away from her fingers by a tired, gentle-looking man with prematurely graying hair. He looked to be a few years older than her, and there was something appealing about his face. Although not conventionally handsome, he was tall and slim, possessing wise, patient eyes. Marian took his measure instantly, deciding that he was probably clever and good-natured, but lacking the force of character so essential for her in a partner.
"Welcome! You must be Ms. Oliver. Remus Lupin," he said, ushering her inside with a wan smile.
She smiled at him in return.
"You're early. We should get started in about a half hour or so. In the meantime, let me escort you to the kitchen to meet Molly and get a cup of tea."
Marian inwardly cringed at the mention of tea, inescapable in Europe and the Orient, but dutifully followed him through a gloomy, decaying entrance hall to meet this Molly person. But before they reached their destination, they were waylaid by a singularly handsome man. Marian heard him before she saw him, as his mocking, confident voice rippled through the moldering hallway, "And who have you got with you there, Moony?"
She quirked an eyebrow at Lupin, awaiting an introduction or an explanation, either one would have done, and he gave her a long-suffering smile and opened his mouth, when the other man elbowed him playfully in the side and interrupted with, "I am the master of this decaying monstrosity. Sirius Black, at your service. But please call me Sirius. And you are?" he roguishly waggled his eyebrows and Marian found she was amused in spite of herself.
She knew all about this kind of man, had met his type hundreds of times in a thousand different places. She had never been taken in by his ilk, put off a bit by their boldness, because she believed flirtatious men to be the type least likely to possess that elusive kind of loyalty one reads about but never seems to meet in prospective partners. Even though she had subconsciously written him off the moment he'd opened his mouth, she was by no means unaware of his charm. Marian had no trouble seeing how many, many women had found themselves enmeshed in his net of playfulness and excitement.
So she gave him a kind, but somewhat distant smile and said, "Then you must call me Marian, of course."
"Ah, an American! It's been a long time since we've had someone so…exotic around here," he declared, swiftly looking her up and down with liquid, golden-brown eyes.
She almost snorted with laughter, "I've heard Americans called all kinds of things, but certainly never that."
"But that is only because you weren't the American in question, my dear," he murmured in response.
Before she could frame a reply to his outrageous flirtation, she suddenly found herself flanked by identical mischievous faces topped with very red hair. "Looks like Sirius started working his magic early, George," one said to the other with a smirk.
"Why, I do believe you're right, Fred. But let's just hope that she's too smart for his time spent lurking around the door on the off-chance she was gorgeous to pay off," the one called George replied, glancing sideways at Sirius and obviously hoping that he would take up their bait. But apparently Sirius had decided to pretend to be dignified today.
"Boys…." Sirius insinuated, rolling his eyes at Marian.
"I resent that, Padfoot. George and I are all man. Allow us to introduce ourselves, I am Gred, and the handsome bloke to your right is Forge." Both bowed with exaggerated courtesy.
"Marian," she grinned.
"Well, my lady Marian, now that we all know each other, we demand the chance to escort you to wherever you were going," George said gallantly, as they each possessed themselves of an arm.
The three were preparing to stroll off together; Marian was too bemused to protest, when Sirius got in his parting-shot, "As it happens, she was just on her way to the kitchen to meet your mother."
"No need to subject you to that yet, love. There are more than enough Weasleys for you to handle right here," one of them said.
Marian rolled her eyes, and they both snickered.
"Besides," George stage-whispered, "We're really the best people to give you the lay of the land around here. We have the low-down on everybody. We'll show you the curious-."
"—scandalous."
"—and most interesting aspects of the Order of the Phoenix."
"You guys do realize that I'm not a certified member yet, right?" she smiled.
"Oh please, Dumbledore's opinion is the one that matters, and you wouldn't be here if he hadn't already approved you. Now come on!" he dropped his voice, "You know you want to."
This seemed as good an idea as any, and she figured that these clever teenagers would prove very good friends to have down the line, so she grinned and said, "I'll take you up on that generous offer."
"Let's go in the next room and grab seats against the wall so we can begin your education," finished Fred.
For the next twenty minutes, people continued to file through the living room on their way into the dining room where the meeting was to be held, and the twins kept up their hilarious and often irrelevant commentary on each one.
She learned that the pink-haired, cheerful woman was named Tonks, and that she was a Metamorphmagus, an Auror, and that they strongly suspected she had a thing for Lupin—who apparently was a werewolf and their former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. They told her about Sirius Black and the Marauders, and about how he was in hiding after his unprecedented escape from Azkaban, having been framed by Peter Pettigrew for the betrayal of the Potters and the murder of several Muggles. Marian felt a little more sympathy for Black after this revelation. She had noticed his haggard, used-up look, and experienced a twinge of guilt for assuming that, given his wild and flirtatious personality, it had the same cause as that sported by hard-living rock stars.
They pointed out several others, including a couple of their own family members. She was given to understand that their brother Percy was a Ministry worker and 'prat'—and then they treated her to the definition, as the word wasn't used in America.
She learned all about Emmeline Vance, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and an unsavory-looking man named Mundungus Fletcher, "who really does smell like dung," George assured her.
"And firewhiskey. It's a potent combination," Fred piped in.
Marian's attention was suddenly drawn to a dark alcove near the exit, where a pale, dark-haired man had materialized without her noticing. He stood perfectly still, with his arms crossed in front of him and a sneer on his lips. Even though he appeared to be waiting patiently for the meeting to begin, there was something terribly impatient in his patience. His eyes were black, and cold at first appearance, although the very intensity of the cold bespoke a passionate nature brutally controlled.
"I can imagine," she murmured absently to Fred, as she watched the dark man, stony and reserved in his isolation. Lupin approached him and said something to him quietly, and the man gave a sharp jerk of his head and said something softly that made Lupin recoil and beat a hasty retreat. Something about the wizard's mannerisms caused Marian to wonder briefly if this might be one man whose will was as inexorable as her own…or perhaps even stronger. The thought was a novel one to her, and a bit unsettling. But she couldn't deny that there was something…formidable about him. She started as a pleasant-faced, redheaded woman stopped short in front of her, blocking her view. The woman immediately began giving the boys a severe talking-to, although Marian could sense her affection for them.
"Boys, you know you're not supposed to be in here! The meeting is about to start. Get upstairs immediately! And if I catch any of those Expansive Ear thingies, you will both be doing so much cleaning that even a house elf would beg for mercy!" she exclaimed, swatting at them both until their ears were as red as their hair.
"Mom! We're of age!" Fred whined.
"We'll talk about this later, George. Now get upstairs!" their mother scolded.
Both boys shot Marian a sheepish glance and asked, "We'll see you at dinner, right?"
"—Of course you will. Now get!" the woman interrupted, and then turned her back to them, unmoved by the pitiful way they slunk up the stairs and the mock-tragic faces they were making, although Marian watched them, and grew highly amused by their antics. Their mother seemed to notice, and she gave Marian a fond smile.
"I can't believe that those boys spirited you off the moment you got here! I have been waiting to meet you all day, and never would have known you'd arrived if dear Sirius hadn't spilled the beans. I'm Molly Weasley, and I hear that you're friends with my son Charlie," she said eagerly.
"Yes, that's right. Marian Oliver," she said politely, holding out her hand, "Those twins of yours are something else," she added with a grin.
"Merlin, I know! I love them, but they wear me out. The two of them get up to more mischief than the other five combined. Now, tell me all about yourself and how my precious boy is doing. Now, are you and he…?" she trailed off, allowing Marian to fill in the blank.
"Oh no, Mrs. Weasley! I am several years older than Charlie. It was never anything like that. But," she added slyly, "Has he written to you about Katarina?"
"It's Molly, my dear. And never mind about Charlie—I have an older son as well. Come with me into the kitchen. I must hear all about this Katarina. Are the two of them serious?" she asked, bursting with curiosity as she hustled Marian over to the counter where she began mechanically helping Molly set out the tea things. Marian felt a bit guilty for outing Charlie's six-month relationship with Katarina, a Russian curse-breaker, because Molly seemed like she was one step away from hiring a wedding planner. But the news had made the other woman happy, and had kept her so busy finding out the details of Charlie's love life, that she had neglected to follow up about Marian's—although she was certain that there would be no long-term escape and that she would be forced to bare her soul another day.
Marian smilingly handed out cups of tea to whoever wandered into the kitchen, all the while fielding Molly's questions, and chatting with many of the Order members. A few seemed wary of her, but most just smiled politely and made a bit of small-talk. She soon noticed Dumbledore's arrival. He stood in the doorway and gave her a gracious smile, eyes twinkling through his delightful half-moon glasses, while he stood in conversation with Lupin and Mr. Weasley, whom Marian liked very much. She realized that now that Dumbledore was here, the meeting would be starting soon.
All through the bustle and activity in the kitchen, a part of her mind was still dwelling on the dark man from the other room. Suddenly, Sirius began ushering people into the dining hall. They all took their places in dark, straight-backed chairs placed around a long, ornately-carved, mahogany table. Dumbledore sat at the head, and the irritable-looking man from the other room sat at his right, while Marian found herself pulled down between Lupin and Black at the farther end.
"Attention, everyone," Dumbledore stood and raised his voice slightly, in order to be heard at the head of the enormous table.
"If the room is secure from Extendable Ears, we can begin," he added with a gleam of amusement.
Sirius nodded and gave a thumbs up to Dumbledore, who said, "Excellent. Let me begin our meeting by introducing a new member. This is Marian Oliver, a Charms Mistress from the United States. She works as a contracted curse-breaker and inventor of spells, and may potentially be quite useful to us. She has taken on some light consulting work at St. Mungo's as a cover for being in our country. I have questioned her under the use of Veritaserum and made her swear a Wand Oath of loyalty to the Order. I have found her acceptable, but if anyone has any concerns, please speak up now; otherwise, we will consider the motion passed, and Marian to be a full member of the Order of the Phoenix, with all of its attendant responsibilities," Dumbledore finished authoritatively.
"Albus, if you say she's alright, then she's alright. We're happy to have you with us, Missy," said a grizzled Auror with a bizarre, spinning, blue false eye, and a few others murmured welcomes.
When everyone stared at her in expectation, she rose and answered, "Thank you. It's an honor," and then sank back into her seat to watch the rest of the meeting unfold.
Dumbledore smiled at her benignly and then continued, "She was recruited by Charlie Weasley and is the first member of a foreign wizarding community to join our cause. We should all be encouraged by the fact that wizards from other countries are beginning to take notice of our situation here, even though our own government persists in ignoring it. As you all know, Voldemort has always made a point of recruiting from other nations, especially from Eastern Europe. It is time that we too reach outside our own lands. On that note, I am still waiting to receive word from Hagrid concerning his embassy to the giants. He should return sometime in the next few weeks, and hopefully his news will be favorable. Does anyone else have anything to say before Severus gives his report? Remus?" he asked politely.
She watched as the eyes of the dark man at Dumbledore's side flicked over to Lupin, and a contemptuous smile touched his lips. Sirius must have noticed his expression as well, because she saw him stiffen out of the corner of her eye. As she glanced back down the table, Marian suddenly found herself captured by the man's cold, fathomless eyes. He seemed to be assessing her, and she had the unpleasant feeling that she had been weighed in the balance and found wanting. Marian was too strong-willed to look away and blush, although that was what every fiber in her being longed to do. Instead, she respectfully inclined her head in his direction, giving him a subtle acknowledgment. He didn't return the gesture, but he watched her impassively for a moment longer, without so much as a twitch to hint at his thoughts, before he turned away dismissively and focused his attention back on Lupin.
Lupin cleared his throat and stood awkwardly, "My attempts to reach out to the werewolves have been disappointing so far. Until the Ministry is prepared to enact reforms that will improve werewolf conditions, I'm afraid that their bitterness and frustration with the status quo will lead more and more into You-Know-Who's camp. Of course, I'm continuing to work with them and have made a few tentative friendships. Hopefully these will pay off in the days to come."
"Very well, Remus. I did not expect instant results, but I think it's important that we keep trying. It is an improvement to our situation whenever we can stimulate a neutral person to act, but a brilliant success if we can turn one of Voldemort's allies into his enemy," Dumbledore replied, and then looked at the man to his right-the cold, fascinating man.
"Severus?" he prompted.
The man stood gracefully, his black robes framing elegant hands and a very pale face, with a prominent Roman nose. He was all black-and-white, with dark curtains of hair framing his strong features. He possessed fathomless black eyes of unusual intensity, and sallow skin, with a very expressive mouth, although his lips were thin and colorless. He seemed tall and lithe, but it was difficult to tell with his severe robes, the collar rising so high that it concealed the greater part of his throat.
Marian marveled when he began to speak. His voice was low and silky, like a river of melted silver. "The Dark Lord is not merely interested in acquiring new followers, although he is certainly doing that, and particularly Ministry officials. Since our last meeting he has corrupted Elvira Roach and Caius Sotherby."
There were murmurs at these words, but his cultured voice continued without stopping, "It is certainly likely that there have been more. I have yet to fully regain his trust, although he has stopped making his…displeasure quite so evident." He rubbed his left forearm absently as he spoke, before he caught himself doing it and placed his hands at his sides. Marian had the unpleasant feeling that this was a euphemism for torture.
"But as I was saying, recruitment is not his highest priority at present. He is obsessed with acquiring an object that is being housed in the Department of Mysteries. It is something he didn't have in the last war, a weapon of some kind. He is being quite secretive about it, confiding in none of his Death Eaters. Instead, I have heard that he plans to do his reconnaissance by using the Imperius Curse on Ministry officials."
These words brought forth a flurry of excitement from his audience, and he was suddenly faced with interruptions from all sides, although Marian noticed that Dumbledore was silent. Obviously, he had already heard this news. It was only a hunch, but she was almost certain that Snape made his reports to him first and then only reported to the group what Dumbledore instructed him to reveal.
"What is the nature of this…object?" asked the older man with the spinning eye.
Obviously not the sort of man that liked to repeat himself, Snape's tone practically dripped with distain as he answered, "I have already told you all I've heard. It is a tool of some kind that the Dark Lord believes will be of great advantage to him in the war."
Leaning back in his chair, Sirius clapped slowly, impudently, and said, "Well, that's a nicely-crafted report, Snape. Just enough information to pique our interest and just vague enough to be completely unhelpful. Did You-Know-Who tell you what to say or did you come up with it all on your own? I would love to hear what one of your accounts to him sounds like," he added insolently.
"Why, I talk all about you, of course," Snape responded maliciously, "I tell him about all of the critical work you've been doing for the Order while in hiding at your mother's house…all of the sandwich-making, the tidying up….I hear that it's been particularly tricky polishing the ears of all your mounted elf heads."
Sirius sprang up from his seat just as Dumbledore called the meeting to order. In spite of herself, Marian was amused. Severus Snape impressed her, and she knew for a certainty that she never wanted to fall a victim to his cruel, clever tongue. If he could shred Sirius, she cringed to think of what he could do to her.
After this minor showdown, the meeting was largely uneventful. No one seemed phased by the spat between Black and Snape, which made her think that this was probably a regular occurrence. Two other people spoke briefly, but didn't say anything interesting, and then Dumbledore addressed them all for a bit about how they as Order members were trapped between the lurking threat of Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and the Ministry reaction. Dumbledore told them that the Minister believed he wanted power and was using an imaginary threat, Harry Potter's account of Voldemort's return, as an excuse to build his own private army against the Ministry. As ludicrous as this sounded to all of them, it appeared that the Minister of Magic had gone so far as to assign someone from his office to serve as an informant in the school itself. He talked about this for a time, and then discussed the importance of remaining vigilant, before issuing a blanket invitation to stay for dinner, and then dismissing them.
Marian rose and began threading her way through the group in order to help Molly in the kitchen. Sirius and Remus remained sitting at the table, and didn't seem to notice she had left. Sirius talked and gestured wildly, while Remus nodded sympathetically from time to time. Marian supposed Sirius was still angry about his tête-à-tête with Snape. Speaking of him, she heard the front door opening and looked up just in time to see him stride out of the house, with his cloak billowing behind him. She felt oddly disappointed.
It seemed that besides Snape, everyone else stayed for dinner. The meal proved to be a jovial affair. Molly Weasley could cook a feast that would put most restaurants to shame. The twins had Apparated downstairs, practically twitching with delight to be out of their confinement, and Marian met their younger siblings, Ron and Ginny, as well as Ron's two friends, a curly-haired girl named Hermione Granger and the famous Harry Potter. She found the children to be delightful, full of humor and wonderfully mature. She reflected that, had she met more like them, she might not have such a low opinion of children in general.
On the way into the kitchen with a load of dirty dishes, Marian collided with the pink-haired Auror, Tonks, splashing mashed potatoes all over a bust of one of Sirius' ancestors. Immediately, a beautiful friendship was born. After they had laughed, introduced themselves, cleaned up the mess, and laughed some more, they joined the few people that had hadn't left immediately for after-dinner coffee and biscuits (they would always be 'cookies' to Marian).
"So," Marian said to Tonks, as they sat idly, watching the Weasley twins tinker with a neon green kids' toy, trying to imbue it with a function its makers clearly hadn't intended.
Marian continued after a lazy pause, "That was a pretty impressive stroke of Dumbledore's, getting an Order member to infiltrate the Death Eaters."
"What, you mean Snape?" she asked, incredulously, "Umm, actually, he's the real deal."
"What do you mean?" Marian asked.
"She means," Sirius said coldly, joining them at the table, "that dear old Snivellus was a Death Eater long before he became Dumbledore's pet. Dumbledore seems to think he can trust him, but snakes aren't particularly loyal. They'll turn around and bite you at the first opportunity."
"Now be fair," admonished Lupin, "Severus may be unpleasant, but Dumbledore is no fool. If he says that he's turned over a new leaf, then I for one believe him."
Sirius rolled his eyes and said something about 'going to check on Buckbeak'…whatever he meant by that.
After he left, Marian turned to Tonks and said, "Please, tell me the story. I imagine it's an interesting one. It's not every day that I meet one of Vol-I mean...You-Know-Who's original Death Eaters, after all."
"Well," Tonks began, "Snape was sorted into Slytherin back at Hogwarts and was always a bit of a misfit. He graduated after my first year, so I didn't know him back then, but Remus can tell you that he was a pale, greasy, anti-social kid on the fringes. He knew an awful lot about the Dark Arts and was very clever—brilliant, to be fair. But he had a falling-out with his one friend, a girl from Gryffindor—she became Harry Potter's mother actually-and then he got really involved with the Slytherin upperclassmen, and most of them became Death Eaters straight out of school. Most of You-Know-Who's inner circle came out of that class—the Lestranges, Rosier, Wilkes….the only notable exceptions were Snape, and Lucius Malfoy, who was a sixth-year prefect when Snape was a first-year."
Marian started at this, "Snape is in the inner circle?"
"Yes. In fact, right now he is one of the highest-ranking Death Eaters of all, but that may change if the Lestranges and the other incarcerated Death Eaters ever get out of prison. Snape may have appeased You-Know-Who for now, but that may change when there are a bunch of vengeful Death Eaters whispering in You-Know-Who's ear, complaining about him and sowing doubts. They're going to be pretty resentful that Snape was working safely at Hogwarts while they suffered in Azkaban with the Dementors. Yes, Snape is playing a very dangerous game.
"But anyway, I digress. Right after school, Snape became a Death Eater. He also earned his Potions Mastery. After he had been out of Hogwarts for about two years, Dumbledore claims that Snape approached him about wanting to get out. Of course, no one quits the Death Eaters, so Dumbledore convinced him to turn spy. He offered him a position at Hogwarts as Potions Master-although Snape would have much preferred the Dark Arts spot-and You-Know-Who told him to take Dumbledore up on it. So he worked at the school and passed information to Dumbledore, while relaying false information to You-Know-Who.
"Then You-Know-Who was defeated by baby Harry, and Snape went on trial because he possessed the Dark Mark. Dumbledore got him off and Snape remained at Hogwarts for the next—how many years has it been, Remus? Right, fifteen years. He and Remus were in the same class—you would never guess to look at him that Snape is only thirty-four. He's so sour; he seems more like sixty-four. But anyway, Snape stayed on with Dumbledore, and his Mark never went away—it only faded. As far as I know, he never considered leaving Hogwarts. He knew he owed Dumbledore his freedom, so instead of Azkaban he's had a job he doesn't like for the last fifteen years—oh, come on, Remus. It's obvious that the man doesn't like teaching. He has no patience with people less intelligent than himself—and that is practically everyone—except Dumbledore, I suppose.
"Well, as I was saying. Last year, his Mark began growing more and more distinct, and he realized that You-Know-Who was returning. After the incident at the Triwizard Tournament—I assume Charlie told you all about that, right? Well, after he was fully regenerated, You-Know-Who called all his Death Eaters to him. Snape waited a couple of hours before he answered the summons, getting instructions from Dumbledore. When he finally Apparated he lied like crazy to You-Know-Who, but apparently his story was good enough that he spared his life. I guess Snape and Dumbledore had had enough warning to concoct something good. So You-Know-Who let Snape live, but I hear he was tortured terribly that night. He underwent several rounds of the Cruciatus Curse and was in horrible condition when he returned to Dumbledore. But he gave his report and then went down to the Dungeons—that's where he stays at the school-and wouldn't let anyone treat his injuries. He recovered several days later and went back to passing information. He gives a report every week or two—you heard one of them tonight. Well, that's really all I know about him."
"—except that he's a rotten git that nobody likes. You left that part out," added Sirius, who had just returned in a much better mood than he had been in when he'd left. He struck Marian as a little temperamental, but she supposed anyone would be if they were trapped in a house—especially a house like this—for months with no clear end in sight.
Tonks rolled her eyes and ignored him.
"That was some story," Marian breathed.
Tonks laughed, "I know—you meet a lot of crazy characters in wartime. Wait until I tell you about Mad-Eye Moody…."
They had all talked and laughed late into the night. After dinner, it had just been the Weasleys, Tonks, Lupin, Sirius, and herself. She had finally gone home about midnight after promising Molly that she would drop by 'the Burrow' sometime later in the week.
When Marian finally got back to her house, after one Apparition and one Floo journey, she took the puppy outside for a run around the yard before getting ready for bed, pondering everything she had heard that night. She removed the pins from her hair methodically to release her long, dark brown tresses. Marian was a bit traditional and loved to keep her hair long, but she hated that whenever she happened to glance down, she became preoccupied with noticing split ends. To keep her hair out of her way and off her mind, she compromised by keeping it up in elaborate styles—nothing terribly difficult or time-consuming, but not your typical ponytail or knot at the base of the neck. She made clever twists, chignons and buns, some requiring multiple braids. It had become a bit of a creative exercise to make up different styles, although she rarely spent more than ten or fifteen minutes on her hair. But her coifs were always elegant and flattering, while being a bit unusual and displaying her skill and attention to detail.
She stepped out of the lustrous black robes she had worn that night and began glancing through her nightwear. She had opted to wear wizarding robes instead of Muggle attire to the meeting as a concession to the more traditional British wizarding community. Even as she was soothed by her nightly ritual and the little puppy that nuzzled around her feet, she continued to play back the things she had discovered at the meeting tonight…especially things about the enigmatic Severus Snape. Even though she didn't know him, and he seemed almost superhumanly capable, worry gnawed at the back of her mind. She didn't like the position he was in, the constant danger. He was obviously terribly clever and uncommonly brave, and yet he seemed to have no support—even his relationship with Dumbledore appeared a bit dysfunctional. His obvious unhappiness bothered her as well. As she drifted off to sleep, she thought about the mistrusted spy, the brilliant man trapped in a profession that stifled him, the unhappy, neglected child. She wondered if there might be something she could do about it.
The next few months flew by. She attended Order meetings every couple of weeks, and Dumbledore had started giving her small research projects, although nothing particularly challenging or time-consuming. She wondered if he doubted her skills or if he didn't trust her, or maybe he was just pre-occupied with all of the trouble he was having at the school. Apparently the Ministry-appointed Defense teacher was a real piece of work, investigating all of the other teachers and questioning every decision Dumbledore made.
Countless Order meetings passed, but Marian had yet to speak with the man who so intrigued her. He generally arrived exactly as the meeting was called to order and left as soon as possible. She knew that one reason he did this was to avoid Black. There was something positively sinister about the way those two interacted. There was a palpable loathing between them, such concentrated viciousness. Snape was also a very busy man, both in the Order and at Hogwarts. Dumbledore seemed to rely on him for everything, and the other Hogwarts teachers that attended the meetings constantly said things like, "Oh, Severus will handle that" and "There's no reason to use our budget to purchase potions. Severus will continue to supply the Infirmary" and even "I always send my students to Severus to serve their detentions." Even though they never spoke, she still heard Snape's reports and he remained continually on her mind.
She very much wanted to meet him, and had explored several scenarios in her mind, but none of them seemed likely to gain her a friend. And so she decided to wait and see if an opportunity presented itself. Marian had a feeling that their paths would cross before much more time passed. She was right, but it didn't happen in any of the ways she had imagined.
