After days spent in the forest, the small track leading up to the collection of farm buildings looked like paradise. They were approached, as they reached the small wooden gate, by a man dressed in a bright white cloak. They stopped as they came to meet him on the other side of the fence, the man staring at Shylock for a moment before taking down his hood revealing his bald head and- oh no. Even the most snobbish of purebloods would be aware of the connotation that came with the swastika on the man forehead.

"Nous avons attendu pour vous," the man said in French, opening the gate, "S'il vous plaît venir à travers,"

"Speak English," Shylock snapped at the man as they went through the gate, "I'm well aware you can."

The man's mouth twitched as well as his right hand, instinctively wanting to reach for his wand. However, this was only for a moment before he beamed at them, something Severus found more terrifying than if he had tried to curse them.

"Of course. These will lead you to your room," he said in perfect English, snapping his fingers at three figures that had been standing in the shade of the nearest building. As they approached Severus could see that they were three dirt covered women, their hair crudely cut and only wearing a brown sag like house elves. Severus couldn't help but stare as the women led the way down the track further and into a tall stone barn turned into living quarters, wondering what was going on with them until he saw the capital M burnt into the back of their necks.

Oh.

He felt like he needed to throw up and given how harshly Victoria was breathing beside him, he wasn't the only one who had realised. One of them opened one of the several doors of the first floor, standing aside to let them shuffle in, none of them wanting to be near the beaten enslaved muggle. However as one of the company came through the door, they dragged their open palm across her breasts before walking in. Severus didn't want to guess who it had been. He was the last in as the muggle bowed herself out, closing the door.

"Now what?" the older man, Phillip Chance asked, taking off his mask, sweating profusely.

Shylock turned his head on one side, still masked but his height gave it away his identity. Shylock started to march forward, Severus wincing thinking he was going to kill Phillip, but instead Shylock stormed out the door, slamming it behind him. Now all eyes turned to Selina, who had taken off her mask and fiddling with it. Stupidly, Severus decided that he'd take charge instead.

"Everyone pick a bed." He said as confidently as he could, gesturing at the ten single bed covered in crisp white sheets, "we could be here for a while."

When none of them moved he felt a little annoyed and strode over to Selina, taking her over to a bed sitting her down and herself on the other side.

"You okay?"

She nodded, her face grey, rubbing her hooked nose. "So…Nazis."

"Yep." He said nodding, "Nazis."

Neither of them knew what to say after that, lying on separate beds, fingers slightly intertwined, while the other moved around the long room. He felt very tired, it was all going very fast, yet he didn't know what else he had expected. It was one confusing mess and he was happy for a moment of silence with his sister. Shylock came back eventually, breaking Severus' blissful peace. Behind him were more of muggles bearing food. Selina immediately sat up having had no food that morning, taking a steaming bowl of soup and gulped it down: the spoon falling the floor and the soup dribbling out of her mouth. Severus took his own bowl, muttering a thank you to the muggle, who ignored him. He felt sick again, having been harshly reminded of the company he was keeping and only moved the green soup around in its bowl.

"You better eat up."

He jumped as Shylock towered over him, "it's the only thing you'll tonight." Shylock turned to the rest of them, "negotiations are happening tonight. And you'll all will be standing guard for me and Selina."

He had to be joking.

Apparently not. He supposed they did indeed look menacing all dressed in cloaks and masks, they were silent guards waiting to attack. Well that was the impression. Severus just felt like laughing at the preposterous situation, given if they were attacked he expected they'd all scatter like children. Yet somehow he managed to contain himself instead watching his brother and sister talk in muttered tones in front of him. He was slowly getting bored but didn't really want to fidget afraid he would actually lose his composure. What kind of 'strong warrior' fidgeted? He wished he could hear the conversation that was so important for their cause but it was spoken in whispers and mostly in French as the neo-Nazis spoke in harsh tone amongst themselves. They were eating some sort of fish on fine silver, making Severus wished he had more than soup, his stomach growling. He stared at his siblings; Selina looking actually more confident than Shylock who was focusing on using his cutlery as daintily as possible. Okay, he may laugh at that.

Given how Selina's expression turned sour an hour in, he guessed it wasn't going well. Shylock had given up on his food as Selina grabbed his knee and stayed talking as well. Selina now looked angry as the French spoke to them while Shylock wasn't doing anything. He looked bored, as if he didn't care, but Shylock did seem like the kind of person to be incredibly loyal to the Dark Lord. While Shylock may pretend otherwise, he was ruled by his emotions, Severus had scars to prove that. Finally, it was over, Shylock and Selina bowed at their hosts and they travelled back to their rooms. Once Victoria, the smallest of them, closed the door and Shylock flicked his wand at the four walls and he screamed. Everyone jumped back, a couple reaching for their wands. For a moment, Severus thought his brother had had a better grip on his emotion than he gave him credit for until he saw the red welts and blisters that had formed on Shylock's hands. He ran forward, wand out, grabbing one of his brother hands. He held it dumbfounded as they stared to bleed, Shylock still roaring in pain, completely lost at what to do.

"Severus move!"

He let go as Selina shoved him aside, settling Shylock down. He stood still, unable to move as his heart pounded. His brother had been hurt, by what he had no idea and how to fix he was clueless about too. Selina was doing casting spells on the hands, wrapping a sheath of light around his hands that settled for a moment before disappearing. Soon his cries when to pants as Severus also fell to a bed, watching small tears fall from his brother's eyes.

"Did they curse the cutlery?" the Scottish woman, Penelope asked, wand out.

"No," Shylock growled, "silver."

Silver? His brother was allergic to silver. His eyes fell to the floor thinking on his brother's words about why he'd killed the Professor. Shylock was lying himself back down, Selina casting her spells on the corners of his mouth where the cutlery had burnt.

"So," Severus started and immediately Shylock turned to face him, sharp pointed teeth almost bared, "silver huh? I'd kill someone too if they knew I was a half breed."

He should have known not to taunt Shylock and certainly damned himself as Shylock began to chuckle. He snapped Selina's wand arm in his two hands twisting it, making her give a short gasp of pain.

"Funny brother." Shylock whispered, clenching Selina's arm, "but I think you're quite tired, perhaps it's time for you to sleep, hm?"

Severus stared a beat long at them before turning over, pulse beat against his temple.