Many thanks to JKR, for the characters and setting to construct this story. Also to Melynda and Allosia, and all the others who have encouraged me to write.

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For a moment he wondered what would happen. Possibilities spun in his head, this old habit of constructing a thousand lifetimes out of a single moment.

Hooch cocked her head at him. Too calm, he thought. She is too calm to be waiting for this moment. Snape paced carefully to the parapet, looking out over the sleeping land.

"I am a tool." His voice was low, pitched for her ears alone. "After Voldemort's fall I turned myself in, accepted my fate and my punishment. If I had known I wouldn't wind up in Azkaban..." Here he sighed heavily, and she could see his fingers tighten on the wall. She opened her mouth, but his harsh voice cut her off.

"Don't say a word Hana Hooch. Not yet." Satisfied in her silence, Snape continued.

"The details of.. all of this, are not so important right now. What you should understand is that I am a double agent, now working for the side of the Light."

"How?"

"I go when he calls. I listen, I watch. I do what I can to keep others safe."

"How do we know you are not just using us?"

"Dumbledore seems to trust me," he said, only the faint tinge of bitterness to his voice. "The Ministry keeps me on a short leash indeed."

"Do you kill for him?" Hooch's eyes gleamed in the dark.

"When I have no other choice," he snapped.

Hooch closed the distance between them, and grabbed the front of Snape's robes. He made as if to bat her hand away, but Hooch's voice stayed his hand.

"Do you and Lucius enjoy yourselves?" Her voice was cold and angry, yet Snape could not help a small mirthless laugh.

"Lucius is so bloody obvious, he should just give up the pretense..."

"Lucius Malfoy killed my husband."

Dawning comprehension Held his eyes on Hooch's face.

"I came home from the Quidditch World Cup celebrations, after we defeated Scotland, the year Arden Elkins fell off his broom right into the stands," Hooch said slowly. "Misha had stayed home, because he was still sick. Didn't know how long the game would go, and it was wise since it took about six hours... Not that it mattered." Bitterness, rage and pain threaded through her voice, and Snape shivered slightly under her golden gaze.

"I could see the Dark Mark in the sky, as I ran to the door. Lucius was sitting there. In the midst of the blood! They couldn't be satisfied with just using the Unforgivable curses on Misha, they had to torture him. There were others in the room, but I remember Malfoy because I'd seen him before." The name broke on her lips, and she glared at him.

"Were you there? One of those faces I didn't know?"

"No."

"Are you very sure?"

"Yes damn it all!" Snape shouted. "I remember Lucius coming back to Hogwarts that year, so full of himself because he'd finally been initiated into Voldemort's cult. We laid in bed and talked about how it felt to kill someone that night. Is that what you wanted to know Hooch?" Snape's hands trembled slightly at his sides, restrained with years of will.

"How did you know Lucius Malfoy?" asked Snape abruptly.

"It was after the Cup game against Italy," Hooch said. "The Moravian Committee threw an enormous party to celebrate. Lucius and his father were there, hobnobbing as usual."

"The little bastard couldn't have been more than fourteen or fifteen," she continued. "Tried to pick me up, one of those fan boy crushes. When I didn't succumb immediately to his charm, he sulked quite obviously."

"Lucius doesn't deal well with refusal." Not a flicker of emotion showed on Snape's face. Hooch's laugh was not amused.

"Not at all, I should say. Imagine waiting years and coming back to kill the husband of someone you once had a crush on."

"You seem to be telling more secrets than I tonight," Snape said quietly. He wanted to confess that he could, and did imagine such things. It wouldn't help the situation though, to be so honest with anyone but himself.

"No more than necessary."

"Is this necessary?"

"It is." Her grip tightened on the front of Snape's robes, and he braced himself, lest the woman shove him into another wall. Snape nodded mutely. Hooch looked away, somewhere back in time.

"I remember crying out, perhaps Misha's name. Because he laughed, and stood up to show me the blood on his hands and his clothes.

"That was the year you retired."

"Yes. I hadn't the heart to fly."

"I don't remember your husband mentioned at all."

"The Ministry covered it up neatly. It was part of my contract for Moravia, Keeping Misha out of the public eye so we could have some peace."

Looking at her, looking out into the dark, made something twist painfully inside Snape's head. Only now could he connect his whispered conversation with Lucius to Hana's painful expression. Outlined in starlight, her proud profile hinted at years of grief, and a rage unabated. Involuntarily Snape raised his hand to her.

"Hana, I'm sorry.." he began.

She slapped him, hard across the face. Snape tasted blood, a coppery flower in his mouth. Yet he held himself perfectly still, waiting. The air stirred the ends of hair and robes. Hooch wondered if she were looking at a ghost. If so, it was not a ghost she wanted to see. Her fingers clenched as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

"No." His voice was commanding. "You only get one shot." Snape grasped her arm firmly, and they stood locked in tension, and in anger. Hooch grimly held her ground, refusing to slacken the forward pressure of her fist. Around them the wind picked up, and with it the scent of winter. Soon snow would come down.

Snape however was acutely conscious of the heat of the body so close to his own, and the blood rushing through his own. The slap had awakened something, and much as he wanted to escalate the situation past the point of return, Snape knew it was unwise. Too much at stake to play these sorts of games, he thought. The darkness gnawed at him, desires never fully purged or fulfilled. If he held on much longer... Which a snarl, he twisted Hooch's arm behind her back and pulled her up on her toes and put his mouth to her ear.

"Don't fight with Death Eaters unless you know you're going to win," Snape hissed. She rewarded him with a small shudder, and for a moment he allowed himself to enjoy it before he pushed her away roughly.