Chapter 2

doubt \Doubt\, v. i. [imp. & p. p. Dou'ted; p. pr. & vb. n. Doubting] [OE. duten, douten, OF. duter, doter, douter, F. douter, fr. L. dubitare; akin to dubius doubtful. See Dubious.] 1. To waver in opinion or judgment; to be in uncertainty as to belief respecting anything; to hesitate in belief; to be undecided as to the truth of the negative or the affirmative proposition; to b e undetermined.

Even in matters divine, concerning some things, we may lawfully doubt, and suspend our judgment. --Hooker.

To try your love and make you doubt of mine. --Dryden.

2. To suspect; to fear; to be apprehensive. [Obs.]

Syn: To waver; vacillate; fluctuate; hesitate; demur; scruple; question.

A few hours after the gathering, Rebecca was sitting in front of the fire in her flat. Her flatmate, Gabby, was out for the evening, so Rebecca was undisturbed. Her thoughts carried her freely.

Perhaps she had been rash; perhaps she would have done better to simply say nothing. It was strange, though, how her fear of Severus's master had left her when she realized that his one fear was something she herself had no qualms about: dying. It was even in his name. Voldemort. Latin for flight from death. So his entire purpose was to become immortal.

She turned this over in her mind. What, then, if he reached it? Surely, he would never share his secrets with his followers.

Why, she wondered abruptly, does he have to kill so many innocents? He was creating strong ties between himself and so many people. Was he, in essence, stealing their lives?

She shook her head. She had so many ideas on the subject, but her thoughts were jumbled up, and she was making no sense, even to herself.

She forced herself to get up and do something, anything to take her mind off what she really wanted to think about: Severus. He had brought her to those gatherings. What would Voldemort do to him?

The tea kettle on the stove in the kitchen began to whistle. She moved into the kitchen, lifted the tea kettle off the stove, and poured the boiling water into a teacup with a few tea leaves.

As she moved towards her chair by the fire again, the clock struck on the mantelpiece, startling her. She dropped her teacup, spilling scalding water down her front and smashing the cup to bits. She swore, using words that would have made any sailor's ears burn.

"Maybe now isn't a good time?" asked Severus's voice behind her. She swung around.

"It's a good thing I already dropped my tea!" she shouted. "Otherwise I would have thrown it at you." She saw the expression on his face, then. His eyes were twinkling, and his mouth threatened to curve into a smile.

"You made quite an impression on the Dark Lord," he told her. "He asked that if any Death Eater was to encounter you, we not kill you, but bring you to him alive. His suggestion was to use the imperious curse."

Rebecca raised her eyebrows. "What is that?" she asked. "Isn't that what-"

Severus cut her off. "What was used on hundreds of innocent witches and wizards during Grindalwald's reign of terror, to make them perform unspeakable acts which they otherwise never would have committed? Yes."

He began to pace up and down the room. "It seems to me that there should be a way to fight it, though. I've been working on it for quite some time. Of course, I can't test my theories. I have no one to put the spell on me."

Rebecca said softly, "I can."

Severus shook his head. "I don't want you to get involved."

Rebecca stepped into his path. "Too late. I'm on Voldemort's most wanted list, I'm related to a Death Eater, and engaged to the most brilliant mind of our time. Now tell me how I can help!"

He had stopped pacing right in front of her. He put his hands on her shoulders. "You're right." His eyes twinkled. He gently pulled a strand of her hair out of it's braid. "I'm trying to protect you, and all I'm doing is putting you in more danger."

She smiled at him, and slid her fingers into his hair, pulling his head towards her. "Teach me, Master." She kissed him gently. His arms slid around her waist.

"Lesson one," he whispered huskily. "How to manipulate the teacher." She smiled, but freed herself from his grasp and moved in front of the fire to dry the tea from her robes.

He sat in her chair, and explained the intricacies of the Imperious Curse, and his theories on how to fight it.