"So, I should probably tell you I'm not going to be here next week. I'm going to be out of the country for, well... I don't know when I'll be back, actually."
Severus allowed his head to flop to one side to look at Tonks. Her hair was a sweaty mess of bright blue curls, her eyes, only inches away from his own, an unnatural violet. Her face was rather androgynous, but she had kept the rest of her body female in deference to the fact that, if he was going to be lying naked in a bed with someone, he preferred women.
He wasn't entirely in the mood to move at the moment, but he really did feel that that comment deserved a raised eyebrow. "If you're not enjoying this arrangement, you can simply tell me. You needn't flee the country to avoid me."
Not that he actually thought she wasn't enjoying herself — this was the third time they had "hooked up" (as she claimed the kids were calling it these days). Severus still didn't quite understand why. Young, vivacious Nymphadora Tonks could almost certainly have anyone she chose, and despite her insistence that competence was sexy and half the Slytherins who'd hit puberty wanted to "bang" him (which was an exaggeration, but yes, he knew, he tried not to think about it), he didn't exactly consider himself a catch.
He was quite certain, however, that if she hadn't been entirely satisfied with his performance, she never would have demanded a second "date", let alone a third.
"Stupid doesn't suit you." Her response — the dry, sarcastic tone and the fact that she hadn't missed a beat more than the words — drew a hint of amusement from him, a smirk forcing its way onto his face. "We're definitely doing this again. I just don't know when. This mission isn't exactly the sort of thing you can take a day off from, you know?"
Severus let his eyes narrow in suspicion.
"I'm going to be undercover," she elaborated defensively, which did not allay his suspicion in the slightest.
Going undercover, on a secret mission that she couldn't take a day off from — it wasn't as though it should be much of an impediment to pop back to Hogsmeade or come here for a few hours if she really wanted to, travel wasn't exactly difficult for mages, and it wasn't as though anyone had to know any particular person was her... Unless she would be with someone who would notice and disapprove of her absence. And hadn't she said she would be out of the country? Assuming she wasn't lying, which she had no reason to do, especially since she'd just inadvertently suggested she was working a case illegally, outside her jurisdiction...
Severus groaned. "Please tell me that old madman hasn't convinced you to try to hunt down Bellatrix."
"What? No." That was definitely a lie.
"She's going to kill you, Tonks, you know that, right?"
"She's not going to kill me."
Well if that wasn't gross overconfidence... "Why wouldn't she? Yes, you're family, but she has killed Blacks before. Dozens of them, it was her Mastery project." Well, according to rumor, at least. He had no reason to doubt it, though.
"Yeah, but how many of them were Aurors?"
None, though many of them had been far more paranoid and dangerous than Aurors. "How many Aurors do you think she killed in the War?" A hint of unease appeared in the lines around her eyes. "And speaking of being an Auror, you are aware of the boundaries of your jurisdiction, are you not?"
She glared at him. "Yes. I am. And I'm also aware that I have a duty to uphold! Someone has to protect the people. If I don't stop her, who will?"
"Lovegood? Pfeiffer?" There were mages out there who made it their business to hunt down evil bitches like Bellatrix — much more experienced mages than Tonks, who didn't have a law-enforcement career to lose because an insane...ex... "What lies has Moody been feeding you, Tonks? I hate to break it to you, but the Black Cloaks were hardly the noble, romantic figures they play in children's tales."
She sputtered incoherently at him for a second or two before falling into a pouting glare. "How the fuck do you just...do that? I mean, I might not be able to stop you, but I know you're not in my head right— No one said anything about Black Cloaks. Or Mad-Eye, for that matter!"
Ignoring (with effort) the sudden resemblance between his...lover and her aunt ("How the fuck do you do that, just fucking know what I did?"), Severus sneered at her. "You didn't have to, there's only one person you respect enough to incendio your career for, and only one who'd have the gall to ask you to do it."
She rolled away, glared at the ceiling. "Fuck you, Snape."
"I cannot think of a single person less suited to the life of a Black Cloak than you." That wasn't actually true — he was sure he could think of less suited candidates if he took a moment, and Tonks probably could do the job — but it would ruin her. For all her experience as an Auror, she was still so very...well, innocent, in many ways. Dangerous, yes, but her hands were clean.
She sat up to turn her glare on him, fury practically radiating from her. "And you would know so much about it."
"Wouldn't I?" he scoffed. "Black Cloaks were diplomats, spies, and assassins — were," he repeated for emphasis. "No matter what Moody's told you, the two of you, if you actually go through with this– this insane proposition, would be no better than criminals yourselves, vigilantes hunting down your quarry with absolutely no authority whatsoever, so you'd hardly be in a position to further diplomacy. No, this mission, this crusade, is a covert operation. And that life... Take it from someone who has been a spy, you stupid girl, it's not glamourous. It's not fun. It's dirty and miserable, lying and gaining people's trust with the express intention of betraying them. You make decisions you wish you didn't have to, you get people killed — people you like, people who trusted you. And then, if you're doing your job well, you go back and lie to their friends as well, convince them you had nothing to do with their loss, convince them that you're still with them. The fact that you'll genuinely mourn their losses does, I'll admit, make that easier, but—"
"Fuck off, Snape!" she interrupted — not quite as forcefully as he was certain she'd meant to, he could hear the doubt creeping into her tone. He opened his mouth to continue, but she cut him off. "No! Stop it. I'm not you. I'm— It's not going to be like that. We're just going to find Bellatrix and stop her, and—"
She cut herself off, shrugging on her robes. Clearly she would not be staying the night after all. She might very well leave and never come back. But he couldn't just...let her ruin her life in the same way he had, and Regulus, and so many others. Without understanding the consequences of her decisions.
Trying to at least make her think about it — even if he suspected she wouldn't listen, even if she told him to go fuck himself and never spoke to him again — was literally the least he could do.
"Do you really think you can? Setting aside the fact that Bellatrix has been doing this longer than you've been alive, the fact that she could — that she probably will — kill you without breaking a sweat, if she was sitting here, smirking at you like little Lyra all grown up, dangerous, yes, and evil, but so very compelling, do you truly think you have it in you to kill someone — to execute them in cold blood?"
"If it's Bellatrix? Yes. She may be a charismatic cunt, but I do know what she is. What she's done." She scowled at him for a beat before adding, "You know, it was one thing, Moody warning me about that, but you talked me out of murdering that fucking paedophile rapist pig when I was fifteen, if you recall — somehow I find it hard to believe you don't believe I have it in me to kill that murderous bitch."
Yes, he had. Because death was too easy for scum like that. He'd also talked her out of murdering a classmate who poisoned one of her friends with a poorly brewed love potion the following year. Mostly by dint of having already taken steps to address the situation, teach the boy the error of his ways. (Dumbledore still considered slipping the boy the Death of Narcissus to be cruel and unusual punishment, but it was both proportional and topical. Dumbledore could go hang.)
"No, I don't doubt that. But there will be collateral damage. There always is. And if you're so naïve as to believe this will end with Bellatrix... No matter what Moody has told you, if you do this, if you decide to take the law into your own hands, solve Magical Britain's little problem by any means necessary, there is no going back. Do you trust yourself to decide who else deserves it? Do you trust Moody? Because the only way to do the job you intend to undertake without losing yourself entirely is to avoid the question of whether your decisions, your actions, are necessary — to obey without question or put a single goal above all others, convincing yourself that anything is acceptable, in service to that end. And even then, it only takes the slightest doubt to break you."
"I'm. Not. You. Snape," Tonks repeated, her hair going black and spiked with fury.
"I'm not talking about me." By the time he'd become a spy, he'd long since been broken. "I'm talking about Regulus."
"Regulus?" There was curiosity in the girl's tone, obviously creeping in despite herself.
"Regulus Black. Bella's cousin. Sirius's younger brother." Severus's friend. One of the few friends he'd ever had. "He was... He was like you. Young. Not...unaware, of the realities of war, of life, but...innocent, insofar as he hadn't truly experienced them when he made the choice to do what we did."
Regulus had never lost anyone important to him, never killed anyone before he'd taken the Mark, never been betrayed or forced into a situation he was entirely unable to control. He'd been a child, truly. (Do not think about what that makes Miss Tonks, and you for fucking her...)
"He'd been raised to believe that the Dark Revolution was the way forward. He idolised the Dark Lord, lived for the Cause. He became a spy for the Death Eaters when he was still in school, gathering blackmail material to force other children to spy for us. Making them love him, trust him, before he betrayed them."
It had been Regulus who had recruited Pettigrew, Severus had discovered, in those cherished hours he'd spent renewing his relationship with the miserable Marauder last year. (True to his word, the rat had still been fit to stand trial. Willing and eager to do so, even, so long as he never had to see Severus again. Severus was far more creative in his tortures than the dementors, if he did say so himself.)
"Never questioned whether what he was doing was right — anything was, in service to the Cause. Until he realised that the Cause itself was flawed and the Dark Lord was a madman. What do you do, when you've compromised your own morals in favor of an ideal — a lie — when you realise you're following a fanatic down a road with no end?"
There was definitely doubt in her eyes, even if she tried to hide it. "What did he do? Regulus, I mean."
"Lost his nerve. Fled a battle, attempted to betray the Dark Lord. Got himself killed for his trouble. Bella made an example of him." Of his body, anyway, using fiendfire to destroy it. But it wouldn't hurt to let Tonks believe she'd been responsible for his death as well — Severus was certain she would have killed him, if Riddle hadn't done it first.
"Yeah, well, it's not really the same thing, is it? I'm just trying to do what's right, Snape. Even if it's not easy."
"As am I, when I tell you that you are making a mistake. Take it from someone who's made a lot of them: this is a bad life choice."
"Maybe. Maybe not. In case you haven't noticed, there is a little bit of a difference between joining the fucking Death Eaters and trying to kill a fucking Dark Lady. But even if I do end up hating myself afterward like you do, it's my choice to make."
His eyes narrowed. He could stop her. It wouldn't even be difficult — floo her mother and Andromeda would ensure her hot-headed baby girl didn't run off to do one of the incredibly stupid, madly impulsive, self-destructive things her House was known for. But, well...she was right. It was her choice. He had no business taking it away from her, and she'd never forgive him if he did. They'd spent all of three nights together and, even if she did respect his advice as she had when she was a student, it wasn't as though she had any obligation to take his opinions into account.
It wasn't as though he hadn't known how this discussion would end.
Tonks seemed to sense his acceptance of her argument, her eyes flashing at his silent capitulation. "We're leaving in two days, can't for the life of me think now why I thought I should tell you. The Aurors think I've been assigned to deep cover, so I will be able to come back when it's done. And when I do, you'd better be prepared for an entire night of 'I told you so's and make-up sex."
Assuming Bellatrix didn't kill— Wait. What? Maybe he hadn't known how this discussion would end. Because he had been fairly certain, even as he'd pressed the argument, that she was going to dismiss his concerns and that would be the end of...this. Whatever this was.
Her face twisted into a familiar sneer. "You didn't think it would be that easy to get rid of me, did you?" she said, before dropping the echo of his features, glaring at him with eyes that reminded him of Poppy Pomfrey. "You're not the only one who can read people, you know. I refuse to let your bloody issues ruin a good thing, so I will be coming back. I'll send you an owl or something."
She disapparated, taking the last word with her. Severus let his head fall to his pillow, trying not to think too hard about the much more likely eventuality of her not coming back — and not because he'd managed to thoroughly alienate her, treating her like the stupid, reckless child she was. It took every ounce of self-control he had in him to not floo her mother, put a stop to this insanity before she could go get herself killed.
Maybe he could get the junior Bellatrix to pass on a message, suggest that it would be more fun to tease and evade the would-be Black Cloaks than to simply kill them. Taggart had suggested that the senior Bellatrix had undergone a potentially personality-altering degree of mental disturbance, and the woman he'd spoken to before her escape had reminded him more of the younger version of herself than the Blackheart he remembered. Lyra would almost certainly think it more fun to spend a few months annoying Moody than to outright kill him, and Nymphadora was family...
He ignored the voice at the back of his head, telling him to stop deluding himself — if nothing else, they might indulge him simply because it was the thing he would least expect them to do.
