Author's Note: This chapter originally didn't exist. You learned about it in hindsight, but I hadn't originally planned to narrate these events. I changed my mind for a couple of reasons- A, because I needed to have more face time between Roman and Alana, and B, I needed Alana to go through the confrontation in the second POV. Oh, and yes, there's a whole confusing psychological reason why Alana chose the disguise she did, but I'm not going to go into it; I'll let you infer what meaning from it you like.

That's not to say that this chapter is brilliant or even very long; it's short and kind of choppy, in my opinion. However, I feel better having added in these scenes. Enjoy!

05 September 2019
The harbor of Cádiz was crowded, filled with people who chattered in throaty Spanish and Castilian, and who anxiously waited for the cruise ship, the Flamenco, to pull into its mooring. Roman pushed through the crowd, trying to find a decent vantage point from which to spot his 'girlfriend'-cum-operative. Not that he knew what he was looking for; Moody had just told him to show up. Granted, Alana knew what he looked like, but it would have been nice to know what her disguise was. He'd like to find her as quickly as possible so he could draw her away from the hubbub and Apparate them to their hotel in Madrid.

He stood against the harbor railing, a small bouquet of red carnations in one hand [supposedly the Spanish gave them as a gesture of passionate love, so he figured it worked with their cover story], a burning cigarette in the other. He stood quietly, trying to be patient as the ship pulled into the dock and the passengers began disembarking. Greek and heavily accented English began to mingle with the Spanish and Castilian, creating a discordant but somehow still beautiful mix of sounds. Through the cacophony of greetings, Roman watched and waited, trusting Alana to find him.

"Roman, my love!"

He turned and found himself confronted by a petite, delicate-featured woman who seemed to have sprung from the 1950s. Her red hair was partially covered by a sheer scarf wound around her face and neck. Her eyes were hidden behind oversized sunglasses. She wore a floral-patterned sundress covered by a kelly green trench coat, and impractical sandal heels. She lifted one gloved hand and removed the shades to reveal dazzling green eyes… green eyes identical to a certain English Headmaster Roman knew.

"Leto, cariña mia, you take my breath away," he smiled.
"Good. Then you'll stop talking and greet me properly," she said saucily.

One corner of his mouth quirked in a smile before he leaned down, wrapping his arms around Leto and pressing a kiss to her lips. Might as well be thorough in establishing their supposed relationship… And if he was a bit more thorough than he should have been with Potter's wife… well, he could blame their cover. When he puled away, he grinned at the rosy blush on Leto's cheeks.

"Missed me, huh?" he smirked, picking up her bags [very thankful that she only had two].
"You're impossible," she sighed, threading her arm through his.
"Part of my charm," he easily agreed as they distanced themselves from the crowd and headed down a dark alleyway.
"Where are we headed?" Alana asked.
"Hotel in Madrid," he grinned. "Hope you don't have any plans, I'm keeping you in tonight."
"Promise?" she asked slyly.
"Of course I promise," he smirked, a moment before they Disapparated.

They Apparated into an alleyway a few blocks away from Roman's hotel, so he told her. He said he wanted to give the spies watching his building the chance to see the two of them together, so word of Leto's arrival would begin to matriculate through the Death Eaters' organization. They walked quickly, looking for all the world like a young couple who couldn't wait to get inside where no eyes could see.

Once Roman had gotten them safely inside, he leaned against the door, running an appraising eye over Leto as she unwound the scarf and trench coat.

"It's a good disguise," he commented. "Nobody could tell it was you, unless they realized the whole thing was based on Lily Potter."
He grinned as she blushed again. "You don't think they'll put two and two together, do you?"
"Nah," he said. "It's pretty subtle. Other than red hair, a bit of her jaw, and Harry's eyes to a T, which I really should tease you for, you don't really look like her. How's it work?"
One corner of Alana's mouth quirked in amusement. "Tricky bit of spellwork. One part Confundus Charm, two parts modified Protego Shield. This form is basically a projected image that I cast every few hours."
"Clever," he said, clearly impressed. "You come up with that?"
"I had some help," she smiled.
Roman nodded. "So what's your cover?"
"The Greek Death Eaters were fairly autonomous," Alana replied. "The Death Eaters here shouldn't ask too many questions. I drop a couple stories about certain massacres, mention the right names- all dead or imprisoned, of course- and that should get me accepted into the fold. Then I just have to mention to Bellatrix that I know you, and can get to Harry and Alana, and poof! We're golden."
"And during all this you'll be our double agent," Roman finished, a note of admiration in his voice. "It's a good plan."
"I thought so too," Alana said complacently. "Shall we begin?"

07 September 2019
Leto Semele glanced across the carriage, smiling weakly at Charlotte Montblanc. Although the elder woman looked calm, there was tension buzzing through her frame; her anxiety betrayed by the set of her jaw, the tiny shifts of movement.

"Would you stop?" Leto said, trying to smile. "You're going to kill us both with anxiety."
"You really expect me to remain calm?" Charlotte asked, one sardonic brow raised. "You are returning to the viper's nest, I think I'm perfectly justified in being worried about you, mi querida."

Alana would have replied, but just then the carriage drew to a stop. With the ease of long years of practice, they pulled themselves under control, hiding their trepidation beneath calm, composed masks. After all, if there was one thing their backgrounds had taught them, it was how to appear calm and in control no matter what the situation was.

A stuffy, balding, inherently English butler met them as they walked up the cobblestone lane. The hacienda stood isolated on the edge of a plain; Alana was sure that to Muggles the building would appear abandoned. The manor house looked respectable enough, but Alana felt chilled by a wave of inexplicable dread. She wasn't sure why, but she was suddenly reminded of the desolation of Azkaban.

The butler led them through the darkened, silent foyer, and through a darkened, silent hallway, before opening a door on the left.

"Madam has been expecting you," the butler intoned in a nasal drawl, stepping to the side so the ladies could enter.

After exchanging an eloquent glance, Charlotte led Alana into the room, the only sound being their heels clicking against the floor. The room, darkened but for a small chandelier that hung over a long board table, featured black silk hung on the walls, heavy, dark wood furniture, black and white marble tiles forming a checkerboard pattern on the floor. The room was furnished to intimidate, and it did its job.

Standing behind the table was a woman Alana hadn't seen in years. Wild black hair that was just starting to gray, abnormally pale skin and angular features, eyes that easily revealed the insanity within. Even after all these years, Bellatrix Lestrange still looked like a caged, rabid animal, a creature just aching to be set free.

"Bellatrix," Charlotte greeted her, inclining her head.
"Who's this?" Bellatrix asked, her eyes darting to Alana.
"This is the woman I told you about," Charlotte replied, offering up the sacrificial lamb. "Leto Semele, formerly of the Inquisitorial Guard in Greece."
"The Dark Lord was very good to us," Leto said. "We all wished we could have been be closer to the heart of the action."
"Charlotte tells me that you're offering your services as a double agent," Bellatrix said, eyeing her suspiciously. "The last two people who did so proved to be traitors. Why should we trust you?"
"I don't expect you to trust me right off," Leto replied. "However, I have connections to the leader of the Aurors operating in Spain. He's very close with Moody… and with Potter. And as I've heard, Potter has once again allied himself with the Great Traitor."

That clenched the deal, Alana could see it in her aunt's eyes. Bellatrix still feared Harry, and if Leto could eliminate him… Alana would press that advantage as hard as she could while she tried to bring this infernal organization down.

"Well. Let's introduce you into the fold," Bellatrix said.

Alana held her head high as Bellatrix led her away from the comforting presence of her Aunt Charlotte. This was why she had come to Spain, she reminded herself. She wasn't here for a pleasure cruise or a visit with Charlotte; she was here to fight. This was where retribution lay. And to claim that redemption, she could and would walk into this den of lions and face them down.