DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling owns most of the characters and settings here—I own the rest.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is most DEFINITELY for adults. See Chapter 1 for an explanation and synopsis of the Story So Far.

Well, this tale is nearing its end. The third story, "Spell-less in Seattle," (the updated version) will be posted Real Soon Now!

DATE WITH AN EXECUTIONER
Chapter 25 – Endings and Beginnings

The rest of February was somewhat anticlimactic. As there really wasn't that much for me to do at Macnair Lodge during the day, I found myself spending a lot of time that month in Hogsmeade, completing the task of turning the store over to Morgaine.

Severus and I arranged a few brief visits, which were bittersweet and platonic. The school was quite busy due to the Triwizard Tournament, and we couldn't risk having one of the Slytherins, such as Cynthia Avery, see me and report to their parents.

And even worse than the brief visits was that during them, we were increasingly uncomfortable with each other. The pregnancy, which was not yet evident to the rest of the world, was essentially an 800-pound gorilla that always sat in the room with us, overshadowing all of our conversations. No matter how many polite words we whispered to each other, neither of us could figure a way out of the situation, so we usually just didn't talk about it.

As damp February proceeded into an unusually mild March, I realized that I would have to formulate a cogent plan, and soon. I had left most of my books and other items packed, and consolidated all of them into one box. I did, however, unpack most of my clothes and shoes, so that Walden wouldn't become suspicious. I left one suitcase packed—it contained the box that I just mentioned, as well as Erik's letter and other items that I didn't want to leave lying around. I explained to Walden that I had done this so that we could take it to the hospital at birth time, although I wasn't sure exactly how things worked in the British wizarding community; in Massachusetts, most witches had home births, assisted by midwives. I didn't want to ask Walden, so I decided to ask Morgaine.

It was raining the next day, so my flight into Hogsmeade was unpleasant, to say the least. Walden had been giving me Apparition lessons on weekends, but I didn't feel comfortable going solo as of yet. The streets of the village were empty and damp. The bell over the shop door even seemed to have a moist, muted, furtive sound when I walked in. Morgaine was seated at the counter, a cup of tea in one hand and a copy of Witch Weekly in the other.

"Rowan, hello! You've got to read this article, it's hilarious," Morgaine said. She tossed me the magazine. "Imagine the nerve of that reporter—those children aren't even old enough to Apparate!" I blushed as I looked at the magazine. "Harry Potter's Secret Heartache," read the article. It concerned a Hogwarts love triangle, centered on some of the participants in the Triwizard Tournament. I certainly hoped that Morgaine wasn't trying to infer something about my life by pointing the article out to me, because I wasn't fully qualified to Apparate, either. I decided not to ask her about midwives that day.

"What a load of crap!" I said. "Do people actually take this mess seriously?"

"Oh yes, you'd be surprised," she said. "That girl will probably get nasty letters from some of the readers."

"They need to get a life," I said. "In fact, they can have some of mine," I added. I certainly didn't need to read articles about love triangles. Thank the Goddess that Severus probably wouldn't read this particular magazine—he'd probably hex the publishers into oblivion. I tossed the magazine back to her and we pulled out the ledgers to finish up our latest project.

An hour or so later, Severus came in and Morgaine tactfully turned away as we walked toward the back of the shop. Once we were in the room and it was warded, we embraced.

"Rowan," he began, once we had sat down. "I have been thinking. We must formally dissolve our handfasting. What we said the night of the Revel won't placate Macnair forever. Has he insisted on a formal marriage ceremony?"

"Do you really want to know, Severus?" I asked, as I poured both of us a cup of tea.

"I do not, but I must," he replied.

"Yes. And he wants to have it as soon as possible," I said. Walden and I had, in fact, discussed this exact subject on the previous night. He had told me that his parents wanted us to visit so that a small marriage ceremony could be arranged in the very near future, in order to keep up appearances. I agreed, and had been trying to figure out how to tell Severus about it. Obviously, our minds were still connected and I hadn't needed to say anything.

"Well, let us proceed, then," he said, not looking at me.

"Don't you even want to say anything? Don't you even want to ask me if I have a plan? Do you think I intend to be married to Walden for the rest of my life?" I said, my voice rising a bit toward the end. I waved my wand to dampen the sound. I saw his face fall when I mentioned Walden's name.

"I have no wish to discuss this further at the moment. Let's get on with it."

"Fine!" I grabbed my bag and dumped my ritual items out onto the table. I had brought them today because I had been expecting to have to perform this particular ritual. Shooing Severus into a corner, I cast a very quick circle. I saw him look, questioningly, at the shimmering aura that hung in the room. Then, I cut a doorway and beckoned him inside.

"I suppose that I did not expect much from all your hocus-pocus," he remarked, glancing at the walls of the circle, especially where they permeated the floor and ceiling of the room.

"Thanks. You've always had such great confidence in me. That's one of the many reasons why I fell in love with you," I said. He smirked at me. "Now let's get divorced."

After the ceremony was finished, we couldn't look each other in the eye. We had another cup of tea, but Severus was somewhere very far away, and he kept rubbing at his left arm as if he had a rash or something. He finally left in a dramatic whirl of black cloak, mumbling something about not being able to miss this afternoon's round of classes.

I sat in the room and bawled for what must have been close to an hour after he left. I had finally explained my cryptic statement about "the Viking" that I had made to him the night of the Revel. With great reluctance, he copied down Erik's Muggle phone number onto a piece of parchment and shoved it into his robe pocket. I could see that he had his doubts about what I was proposing, but it was the best plan that I could come up with.

Morgaine eventually knocked on the door, by which time I was sufficiently composed to sit back down with the pile of ledgers and her. We hadn't gotten very far with our work when Walden came into the shop, at least an hour earlier than he normally did.

"Lass, come home with me," he said. "I'm not feeling up to snuff so I left work early." He, too, was rubbing his left arm. I got up and started searching the shelves for some chamomile and comfrey, so I could concoct an anti-itching salve for him. Perhaps the change in weather was causing it. "Come along now, Rowan," he said. "I'm needin' to lie down soon," he added. Morgaine blushed and turned away. She had admitted a few days ago that she found Walden to be quite attractive.

"I was just going to get something for your rash," I said.

"No need-I've some things at the lodge," he insisted, walking into the back room and retrieving my cloak, and then draping it over my shoulders. "Morgaine," he said, bowing at her. She smiled and waved at him, and then he took my hand and we Apparated.

After he had handed our cloaks to Peppy, one of his house-elves, and we were walking upstairs, he said, abruptly, "I'm nae feelin' ill, and I doona have a damned rash," and he pushed up his left robe sleeve. There, in all its ignominy, was the Dark Mark. I had, of course, seen it on numerous occasions, including this very morning when we had bathed together.

"It looks darker!" I exclaimed. So that's what was going on with Severus, I thought.

"Noticeably so," he said, opening the door to our room. "I saw Rowle today and he told me his was darker as well," he added, as he walked over toward his wardrobe and threw it open. He took off his Ministry robe and shirt and tossed them on the floor for the house-elves, and then pulled out his lounging robe and put it on over his boxer shorts. He then sat down on the bed and began pulling off his boots. "Lass, why don't ye get undressed as well," he said, smirking at me. "Or I can do it for ye."

"I wouldn't mind that," I said, walking over to the wardrobe which he had conjured for me, and which stood next to his, and divesting myself of my robes. "What about, you know, the Minister. Was his…"

Walden laughed. "He doesna have the Mark." He Banished his boots into his wardrobe and sent his socks flying through the air to join the pile of discarded clothes. "He attends the Revels for the sex—why do ye think his wife wasna there?"

"Who doesn't attend for that reason?" I said, putting on my silk robe, which had been a gift from Walden a week or so after I'd moved in.

"Snape, I hope. And Mrs. Avery," he said. "Which reminds me," he added. "Let's eat and then I'm going to have a talk with Lucius." He rang the bell for the house-elves. Clearly, they had already prepared food, as two of them (Peppy and Zooey) arrived with a tray in less than five minutes after he had rung. We ate on the table in the bedroom. Walden drank Scotch and I had water—I had decided to forgo alcohol completely for the rest of the pregnancy.

"Do you mind stepping out of the room for a bit when I first talk with Lucius?" he asked, abruptly, after a long period of silence during which he decimated all his food (a large pile of very rare roast beef).

"No, of course not," I said.

"And would ye like me to invite him to share our bed tonight, lass?" Walden asked, with a smile, as he stood up and walked around to my side of the table.

I blushed. Sadly, that sounded like a very good idea to me. "Yes, very much so." He pulled me up then, into an embrace, and then carried me over to the bed. "Good," he drawled, as he covered me with his body. "I can't wait until the next Revel to watch ye with him again," and he kissed me after he said this, moving his hands under my robe.

"When is the next Revel?" I asked, and then immediately realized what I had said, and laughed. "Oh, geez…never mind, don't answer that." Morgaine and I had just put together plans for a Spring Equinox sale at the store. I had been reading some pregnancy-related books, but hadn't been truly prepared for a full-on attack of the "stupids."

"I've already sent our reply; they send our invitations together now," he said, untying my robe and sliding it off my shoulders. Then he stopped, and pulled my robe back up. "I really should get this horrid business out of the way before we take our pleasure," he said. "Go on, get out of here, before I change my mind," he said, laughing. He sat up and pulled his robe around himself then. It tented below his waist.

"I'll be in the study," I said, chuckling. "You might want to wait a few minutes before you Floo him," I added, as I walked out the door toward the study. "Or maybe not—maybe you'll talk faster."

By April, Morgaine and I had nearly completed our official business, but I still visited the store several times a week, simply for something to do. I had exhausted the resources of Walden's library—a lot of it dealt with Quidditch or magical creatures, and neither of those were favorite subjects of mine. I hadn't talked with or seen Severus in a month. He had not attended the March Revel. Several young Muggle-born witches had, though. I shuddered, although it was not that cold, remembering what I had seen during the Main Revel. I had made the mistake of staying for all of it. Walden had been involved. He didn't give an explanation for what he had done; he merely dragged me back to my room (I had Number 11 again), washed off the blood, and threw me on the bed.

The next day, I told him I was having an extended bout of morning sickness, and we left early. I consoled myself by thinking that the mess at the Revel had mostly been Avery's fault. But I couldn't help remembering the glint I had seen in Walden's eyes as he raised his knife, or the ecstatic look on his face as victim after victim crumpled in his arms. And he had been positively ravenous in bed that night, too.

Later that week, I had ordered a new vial of Imperius-resisting potion from Ambrosius, after ascertaining that it was not harmful to ingest while pregnant.

"Rowan?" Morgaine was holding a cup of tea out toward me, and I snapped back to present-day reality. It was late afternoon, and business had been slow for the last couple of hours. "Are you and Walden going to the Triwizard Tournament?"

"I don't know," I said. "I don't think it'd be that good of an idea, really—but I'm sure he can get tickets, of course. Did you want to go?"

"I think it might be rather fun," she said. "Professor Moody was telling me all about what's going to happen in the third task—" But she didn't finish her sentence, because the door opened, admitting a customer and an owl. The customer headed toward the back and the bins of loose herbs. The owl had its beak clamped firmly around a red envelope, and headed toward me. I backed slowly away.

"Oh Gods," I said. I had the feeling I knew who this might be from. I accepted the envelope and the owl flew away, managing to look patronizing and condescending, much like its owner often did, before I could even have the chance to think about sending a reply. However, I didn't have time to dawdle, so I ran to the back room and threw up a hasty Silencing Charm just in time. The Howler opened and began to scream at me.

"ROWAN, MY FORMER FRIEND,

YOU'VE REALLY GOTTEN YOURSELF INTO IT! WE TRAVELED ALL THE WAY TO MASSACHUSETTS FOR YOUR BINDING RITUAL, TO HELP YOU, AND YOU CLEARLY DON'T WANT ANYBODY'S HELP!

I DIDN'T LIKE THAT PROFESSOR SNAPE AT ALL, AND I TOLD YOU MY OPINION OF HIM, BUT AT LEAST HE WAS HALFWAY RESPECTABLE. HAVE YOU NO SHAME? AFTER ALL THAT HAPPENED TO YOU IN NEW ORLEANS, HOW CAN YOU ASSOCIATE WITH A KNOWN DARK WIZARD LIKE MACNAIR? HE AND HIS FRIENDS WERE THE ONES WHO ATTACKED YOU, HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THAT? HE'S LITTLE MORE THAN A MURDERER—HELL, HE IS A MURDERER! BRIAN TALKED TO CHARLIE WEASLEY, AND CHARLIE KNOWS ALL ABOUT HIM. HE'S ONLY IN THAT MINISTRY JOB BECAUSE HE GETS PAID FOR DOING WHAT HE LOVES, WHICH IS KILLING!

I'VE ALREADY OWLED RHIANNON AND INANNA. I DON'T WISH TO BE MAGICALLY ASSOCIATED WITH YOU EVER AGAIN! BRYAN AND I ARE LEAVING THE COVEN, AND WE'RE NEVER GOING BACK. I TOLD HER TO GIVE SERIOUS CONSIDERATION TO THROWING YOU OUT AND DOING A BINDING ON YOU!

DON'T BOTHER WRITING BACK TO ME—MY OWL HAS INSTRUCTIONS TO NOT ACCEPT A LETTER FROM YOU. MAY THE ANCIENT AND MIGHTY ONES DEAL THEIR ETERNAL JUSTICE TO YOU FOR TURNING FROM THE PATH OF LIGHT!

SO MOTE IT BE!

MICHELE

P.S. YOUR MOTHER AND FATHER WOULD BE ASHAMED!

After the Howler had finished spewing its venom, it exploded, leaving behind a pile of ashes.

Well, that was that, I thought, slumping over onto my arms on the desk. Two weeks ago, Michele had written me a friendly letter, hoping to visit Hogsmeade and check out the store. I had replied to her and given her the news, and the Howler was obviously her idea of an answer to my letter.

I summoned a piece of parchment and a quill and wrote to Rhiannon. It was high time I apprised her of the situation. I filled two pages with as brief of an explanation as I could come up with, and then ran to the Owl Office to send the letter. I wanted to mail it before Walden's arrival.

However, I found myself, later that evening, complaining to him about Michele. I had tried my best to forget, but my self-imposed teetotaling wasn't helping my mood.

"Twenty years of friendship gone just like that," I said, looking grimly at my plate, which I hadn't touched. Michele and I had been friends as children, and attended the same Muggle private schools. She had known my parents. We had lost touch for a time after we attended different Muggle colleges. In our 20s, both of us had, independently of each other, discovered the Institute and renewed our friendship. And she had been responsible for me visiting Hogwarts two years ago, when I had come to visit her and her husband Bryan, a British wizard who also had a Muggle career as a professor at Oxford.

"So ye've known her as long as I've known Lucius, eh? I canna say that Lucius hasna insulted me over the years, but we've always managed to remain friendly, somehow," replied Walden. He poured a short tot of Scotch into a crystal glass. "Here, lass, one won't hurt ye or Evan," he said.

"No, I don't like that stuff," I said. "Do you know Charlie Weasley?"

"Aye, he's a dragon master," replied Walden. "Works in Romania, usually. Last time I saw him was at the school during that first Triwizard task."

Thank Goddess, a way to get off the sore subject of my lost friendship. "That reminds me. Can you get tickets for the third task?" I asked.

"Aye, o'course," he responded, with a smile. "I had wanted to go, myself. I've been told there'll be lots of magical creatures involved with it. I may actually have to go in an official capacity." That reminded me of what Michele had said in her letter and I looked down at my plate again.

"Well, Morgaine wants to go—she likes that new Professor…oh, never mind," I said, remembering, too late, about Professor Moody's previous employ.

"New Professor?" inquired Walden.

"Yeah, that Dark Arts professor. I, uh, don't recall his name. He comes in the store a lot," I said.

"He teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts, I'd think, unless Hogwarts has changed since I went there," said Walden.

"Well, yeah. Anyway, could you get a ticket for Morgaine, too?" I asked. And after that, we discussed other matters, and headed up to bed.

On the morning of the May Revel, rather than sleeping in, we went to his parents' manor and were married in a very brief and very small ceremony—it involved only us, his parents (who I actually did enjoy speaking with), his two younger sisters, his son and daughter (whose company I also enjoyed), and Lucius and his wife. The officiant was a Ministry employee who seemed unusually anxious to get the whole thing over with.

After the ceremony, we went directly to Malfoy Manor. I had decided that the early May Revel would be the last one I'd attend until after Evan was born. I did not sign up for the Main Revel, either. I fell asleep at about 1 AM, alone in Room Number 11, and woke up early the next morning in the guestroom, Walden sleeping next to me, his arm around my waist. I had been having a vivid, pleasant dream—I was in Massachusetts, dancing happily around the Maypole with the smiling members of my coven, Michele and Bryan among them. Reality, however, was a different story. When I tiptoed off to the bathroom (which had become an increasingly frequent occurrence), I didn't wake Walden. He looked rather peaceful, or so I thought, until I saw his axe—with a suspicious dark stain on it-leaning against the wardrobe, next to our overnight bag. I nearly didn't make it through the door in time.

When we returned to the lodge, there were two owls from the Relay Service for me. I stuck them in the suitcase in my closet, unread.

By the beginning of June, I had started to show a bit, but robes were very forgiving. I was worried, of course, about seeing Severus, but he hadn't visited the store in over a month. After waiting on several occasions for him to arrive, I decided to limit my Hogsmeade visits to once a week—during which time I also did whatever shopping was necessary. By this time, I could Apparate with ease—Walden was a good teacher, all things considered.

And so time passed that spring, until the day of the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, the day that changed everything.