Disclaimer: as you have probably guessed by now, I am not JK Rowling, and
the HarryPotter-verse does not belong to me (thank goodness!, I hear you
say); I am using the characters and settings for my pleasure, and hopefully
for yours, and I certainly don't deserve to be sued.
Summary: In Harry's seventh year, Voldemort issues a threat to the families of the Hogwarts staff, and they are forced to seek refuge in the school. This uncomfortable situation will allow us some insight into the family life of everybody's favourite Potions Master.
Rating: PG or PG-13, just to be on the safe side.
A/N: I apologise again for the delay in posting last chapter ::nervous smile to NiteQueen::, and I promise I'll do my best to bring all future ones in time. From last chapter: the Snape family motto, "Nemo me impunit lacessit", means "No-one offends me without punishment" and it's take from E.A. Poe's "A casket of Amontillado". By the way, does someone know how to fix spacing and formatting in ff.net... it's just evil, and all my paragraphs are coming up stuck together and stuff! Help would be greatly appreciated.
Review this story as you would like yours to be reviewed! (I hope that will take all flames off my back; if it doesn't, I'll use them to save on the electricity bill)
FAMILY MATTERS PART VII "Let's talk" said Svetlana haughtily, guessing her husband was trying to intimidate her with his silence; she wasn't a young girl anymore, far from it, and she could take meaningful silences as well as the most veteran Death Eater. "I have noticed something curious in Siena's wardrobe" said Snape distractedly, trying to make up with cool for his outburst in the Great Hall; that wasn't what Svetlana was waiting for, but she remained on her guard all the same "How many velvet robes does she have?" "Fifteen, I think" replied Mrs Snape, not guessing yet where the conversation was going. "Do you know how much amounts the salary of a Hogwarts teacher?" asked Snape, giving a hard look to his wife. "I haven't got the slightest idea" she replied, shrugging. She had always hated to talk about money: it sounded so common... "It is twice the amount I sent you every month" clarified Snape "Three hundred Galleons, to be more exact. Not much, but enough to keep me here, and you and the children back at home, isn't it?" "I've never had any money problems, if that's what you're implying" "So I see" commented Snape blandly "If you don't mind my question, how many satin robes do you own?" "What is your obsession with my clothing now?!" snapped Svetlana, starting to get nervous in face of the interrogation; she was beginning to see where the shots were aimed at, and she didn't have a plausible explanation for anything. "If you don't want to tell me that, you could as well tell me how many sets of earrings and choker you have in your jewellery box. No? Well, how do you say you count through the pile of expensive books that Serguei carries in his trunk? Or at least can you tell me how you managed to have two-month holidays in the Himalayas with the children every summer?" The Potions Master's tone had risen quite a bit during his rant, but Svetlana wasn't caring for details anymore. She knew what kind of sudden realisation had her husband had during lunch, and she had to make up an answer, fast. "The jewels are family heirlooms, the Karakoffs are a old and rich family. The books, most of them, were presents from Serguei's godfather" Snape flinched at the mention of Lucius Malfoy, but Svetlana carried on "About the holidays, and the clothes... I have received various gifts from my family in Russia, and I have invested them well" "Don't lie to me, Svetlana" hissed Severus warningly "You didn't have a single jewel when we married, except for what I bought you. The Karakoffs, like any old-fashioned family, would not give anything expensive to a married woman, thinking she depends on her husband from her wedding day. And Lucius... do you think I don't know he hasn't seen you since I left you?" "You are mistaken. Lucius didn't forget his obligations like others did. He visited Serguei on his birthday, and splashed on expensive presents, buying him everything I couldn't afford." Snape, who hadn't reacted to the veiled reproach, remained silent "That he chose to hide those facts from you, is something you should ask him and not me" "What about the rest? Are you saying that Lucius bought you those luxurious robes and paid for your holidays?" Severus was back to his mocking sneer, and Svetlana blushed. "What are you trying to say, Severus? Tell me clearly, or don't even think about it again" "Is there any other reasonable explanation for you enhanced acquiring power?" Snape met her blue eyes with his own blazing black ones, and she shifted her gaze to the fire. "Oh, yes, there is" she admitted softly; suddenly, she seemed to remember who she was, and her attitude changed accordingly "But I don't intend to tell you about it: you forsook all your rights to dwell into my private life long ago. Be content to know that Lucius didn't give me all that as payment for enjoying my dubious charms, and stop putting your overlarge nose where it doesn't belong!" Svetlana stood up smartly and deposited her empty glass on the mantle of the fireplace with a loud 'clank!'. Snape stood up as well, facing his wife threateningly.
"You cannot simply dismiss my question" he informed her, with the tone he would have used for Neville Longbottom.
"Can't I?" retorted Svetlana "Why not? Because you are my husband? Is that the reason you allege for doing this Spanish Inquisition? Well, don't rely on it too heavily, or you might find your argument crumbling..."
"You're right, I am your husband, I have a right to know" insisted Snape.
"You are my husband?" she asked, with a mirthless smile "Really? You threw me away, Severus. You decided I wasn't worthy of your presence, and cast me away like a broken toy. It was me who had to hide from the world for twelve years, because of the shame of having been rejected by none other than Severus Snape. Do you know how many people talked to me during those years, while you were comfortable here? Do you know the ostracism I had to go through, the rejected invitations, the returned owls? Do you know what my own family thinks about me? You didn't think about me for twelve years, but I had to live with your shadow hanging upon me for all that time... Serguei isn't the only who wants you out of our lives, you know?"
Svetlana was almost crying by that moment in time, and Snape was at a complete loss of what to say. Truth be told, he had always thought that he was as out of his wife's life as she was out of his, or maybe even more...
"Lucius was the only one who understood" resumed Svetlana, wanting to clear all doubts in one blow "And Narcissa, you know we've been friends since Beauxbottoms; they invited me, and Serguei, to Malfoy Manor, they sent us Christmas greetings... little details that made me feel accepted; you cannot understand" With steady hands, and flushed cheeks, Svetlana walked to the liquor cabinet and poured herself another shot of cold vodka.
She turned to look at Severus, and found him staring at her with a new expression in his usually shuttered face: it was surprise, mixed with regret, and unexpectedly, admiration. They stood in silence for a long moment, but she knew he wouldn't dare turn away from her now.
"I'm sorry" he said finally, with a voice which was rough around the edges. "I didn't know... you should have told me"
"How? How could I have reached you, when you were up in a pedestal for me? How did you want me to run back to you, when you had rejected me once?" There was an almost desperate quality to Svetlana's voice now, but she was way past caring. Snape opened his mouth to answer, but closed it when he realised he had nothing to say: now he was beginning to understand how Potter felt during his lessons. "You were my first in everything, Severus" Mrs Snape's voice was more hurt than angry "My first boyfriend, if that's what you once were; my first kiss, my first lover, and my first love. And you left me. I'm not going to forgive that." She once again left them empty glass in the fireplace, and then made a dramatic exit into her bedroom, the train of her satin robes flowing behind her.
The Potions Master was left standing in the middle of his living room, as shocked as if a tidal wave had passed over him. In all honesty, he couldn't say he had heard so many words from his wife at once, even less meaningful ones, and the event needed to be digested carefully. With a hesitant stride he made his way to his office, and started brewing a fresh batch of PepperUp Potion, in an attempt to clear his mind.
Meanwhile, Svetlana was chastising herself in front of her mirror.
//How did you think he wouldn't notice? You know he's anything but stupid, and yet you flaunt in front of him your expensive robes and jewels... I hope my outburst there put him off my trail for a while, but I'm sure he'll find out sooner or later! What am I going to do then? Should I tell Lucius Severus suspects something? No, what could he do about it anyway? Let him face his part of the problem...//
The Russian woman, while she had her inner monologue, kept glancing worriedly at her left shoulder. Finally, checking the doors were locked, she gently pushed part of her robes away, baring her soft and round shoulder, which should have been as perfectly flawless as the rest of her ivory skin. But it wasn't: the harsh outline of a fleur-de-lis, the sign of the French royalty in a far past, stood in stark black against her pale skin. Svetlana caressed the tattoo carefully, grimacing a bit when she counted the stars which surrounded the flower: twelve, at the moment, and prone to keep growing. Siena whined as she awoke, and her mother covered her shoulder hurriedly and went into her room: Severus Snape wasn't the only one who kept secrets in his family.
Unfortunately, Snape wasn't going to have as much time to cool off as he would have wanted. A peremptory knock on his office door awoke him from the reverie he had immersed himself as he watched the red potion simmer.
"Come in!" snarled Snape. The soft steps of Serguei Snape crossed the threshold and stopped in front of the teacher's desk, to the Professor's great surprise.
"Here is my essay on the bezoar, sir" said the boy, dutifully. After a short pause, Serguei spoke again. "I also wanted to thank you, for letting my mother stay with you" A dry smile, improper for a child so young, came to his pale lips "I know it's your duty to do so, but you could have forgotten about it, like you did before"
The apparently off-handed commentary resounded like a slap in the silent classroom. Snape clutched the edge of his worktable, silently wondering if it was because of the blood-relations that his children and wife could get under his skin so easily.
"I will not accept morality lectures from you" he spat between gritted teeth.
"Won't you?" Serguei seemed politely surprised "If I were you, I would take advice from whatever source it came"
"Have you come here to goad me into doing exactly what to you?" wondered Snape, looking frankly frightful.
"I came here to thank you" replied the hard voice of his son "I don't find you very receptive at all, though"
"I am your father, your teacher, and your Head of House; you have no right to talk to me like that"
"You had no right to abandon my mother like you did, and did it stop you? I think not, so spare me the 'respect' talk" Serguei turned to leave, satisfied of the way the conversation had gone; he didn't count on the recent regrets raised by Svetlana.
"I already talked to her, and told her that I'm sorry" Severus' voice was still cold, but the words caught Serguei totally off-guard. It was only a moment before he recovered, though.
"Do you think that a simple apology is going to change things?" Once again, Snape asked the Heavens what education had his son had to make him so unnaturally mature; he should know the answer, because it had obviously been the same education he himself had been raised by.
"It's a start, Serguei. There are things that cannot be changed overnight, I know, but that doesn't mean we can't change them at all" Too touchy-feely to be left without a touch of sarcasm "Besides, I distinctly remember your mother asking you not to judge things you know nothing about"
Serguei hesitated in the brink of anger and amusement, before settling for a mixture of both.
"And I remember her asking you why you had gone back to her in time of need" the boy let the full meaning of his statement sink in "Have you answered that question as well?" Serguei turned to leave again "Until next lesson, sir" and he was gone, leaving Snape to look after a too-thin cauldron of sickly-yellow potion.
"We have worrying news, I'm afraid" said Dumbledore as a greeting when he turned to the gloom faces that filled his office. It was the first Order Meeting since the beginning of the term, and there were more problems to solve than ever. At the moment, though, there was a particularly worrying piece of news that had to be delivered. "We have received very useful information from our sources in the Dark Side" Snape was never mentioned in, or even less attended those meetings, just in case there was a mole who could endanger his position.
"As a matter of fact" picked up Minerva McGonagall "we've been given a good outline of how the Death Eaters work." The Transfiguration teacher summoned a large box-diagram and started explaining it to her colleagues "According to our sources, the new Death Eaters recruits are divided into self- contained cells of no more than five members, lead by a commander that reports to the next level of authority, which in turn reports to a especial link between them and the Inner Circle, where the most veteran Death Eaters are. This ensures that no newcomer knows more than a handful of his colleagues... actually, we don't think that anyone else besides You-Know- Who himself knows every single Death Eater" The old witch gave a weary sigh "It's very complicated to infiltrate effectively such an institution"
"This is not all, though" resumed Dumbledore where worried murmurs began to be heard around the room. "Since the failure of our rapprochement to the giants, we have started making contact with the Ministries of Magic of other countries; unfortunately it seems as if Voldemort had the same idea before us, and had already got in touch with many of the Dark groups of Europe, and a few in Asia as well. We have reliable information from Russia" Harry actually looked up at this, his green eyes sparkling and the gears in his brain turning "where the Ivan the Fourth movement had apparently struck a deal with the Death Eaters. Unconfirmed rumours come from France, Germany, the Netherlands, Turkmenistan, Italy, Corsica, Israel and Greece"
"Will the Ministries from those place be of any use, or will we have to do all the work?" asked Mr Weasley with a fatalist look; since his fall-out with the Ministry, he had begun to regard bureaucracy as the bane of his existence.
"I think we can't worry about them right now!" exclaimed Sirius "We have enough problems as it is... if those countries need help, they can get it from somewhere else!"
"We shall discuss that later" interrupted Dumbledore, the light on his blue eyes gone "The most worrying piece of news had yet to be delivered" Seeing the expectant looks around him, the old Headmaster sighed "You remember there has been a series of uncharacteristically... let's say 'clean' attacks to our interests. Starting with the attack to the Dursley's last summer, and ending with the murder of ex-Auror Alastor Moody three weeks ago, those operations were terribly efficient, professional and quick. Worst of all, we couldn't find any Death Eater connection to them, except for the obvious motif of them suiting their interests"
"We concluded that Death Eaters were not responsible for them, at least not physically" remembered Harry, who had been the cause of the attack to his relatives, which ended in the trio's death; the Gryffindor had been saved because he was out on an errand at the time, but the guilt haunted him even to that day.
"Now we know who to blame" announced Dumbledore, looking at a piece of parchment on his desk. "Les Fleurs du Mal seem to be responsible" Mr Weasley, Professor McGonagall and the most veteran members of the Order showed their preoccupation, and Bill Weasley stepped forwards to explain.
"This organisation has been active since the 17th century, when it was founded by Cardinal Richelieu. The Cardinal was a very powerful wizard and he used his magical powers to keep his power and standing; one of the ways he found to do that was to coordinate a force of assassins, loyal to his person and cause, Les Fleurs du Mal. Their name comes because at the beginning they were chosen amongst those condemned by the French justice to jail or forced works; those people were marked with a red-hot iron in the shape of a fleur-de-lis in their shoulder. Nowadays, the organisation is neither French, nor dedicated to a sole leader. They are the most professional, effective and successful mercenaries in the both the wizarding and Muggle worlds. They have moral links to none, and work for everyone who can pay their rates: the Russian Mafia, the Corsican vendettas, the South American drug-dealers, the Afghanistan war-lords, the Chechen independentists... and now, the Death Eaters"
"There is preciously little we can do about them" continued Dumbledore "We know next to nothing about Les Fleurs: nothing about their leaders, headquarters, recruitments, or modus operandi. Those who work with them will never admit it, those who work against them rarely live to tell the tale. Fortunately, Voldemort seems to require their services only for special operations, but we still need to be on our guard now, more than ever..."
-------------- A/N: Well, how was this? ::wipes sweat off her forehead:: I took the name for Les Fleurs du Mal from Baudelaire's work of the same name, and the legend was inspired by Dumas' "The Three Mukseteers"... now it's your turn to work, and drop me a line or two giving me your opinion... thanks!!!
Summary: In Harry's seventh year, Voldemort issues a threat to the families of the Hogwarts staff, and they are forced to seek refuge in the school. This uncomfortable situation will allow us some insight into the family life of everybody's favourite Potions Master.
Rating: PG or PG-13, just to be on the safe side.
A/N: I apologise again for the delay in posting last chapter ::nervous smile to NiteQueen::, and I promise I'll do my best to bring all future ones in time. From last chapter: the Snape family motto, "Nemo me impunit lacessit", means "No-one offends me without punishment" and it's take from E.A. Poe's "A casket of Amontillado". By the way, does someone know how to fix spacing and formatting in ff.net... it's just evil, and all my paragraphs are coming up stuck together and stuff! Help would be greatly appreciated.
Review this story as you would like yours to be reviewed! (I hope that will take all flames off my back; if it doesn't, I'll use them to save on the electricity bill)
FAMILY MATTERS PART VII "Let's talk" said Svetlana haughtily, guessing her husband was trying to intimidate her with his silence; she wasn't a young girl anymore, far from it, and she could take meaningful silences as well as the most veteran Death Eater. "I have noticed something curious in Siena's wardrobe" said Snape distractedly, trying to make up with cool for his outburst in the Great Hall; that wasn't what Svetlana was waiting for, but she remained on her guard all the same "How many velvet robes does she have?" "Fifteen, I think" replied Mrs Snape, not guessing yet where the conversation was going. "Do you know how much amounts the salary of a Hogwarts teacher?" asked Snape, giving a hard look to his wife. "I haven't got the slightest idea" she replied, shrugging. She had always hated to talk about money: it sounded so common... "It is twice the amount I sent you every month" clarified Snape "Three hundred Galleons, to be more exact. Not much, but enough to keep me here, and you and the children back at home, isn't it?" "I've never had any money problems, if that's what you're implying" "So I see" commented Snape blandly "If you don't mind my question, how many satin robes do you own?" "What is your obsession with my clothing now?!" snapped Svetlana, starting to get nervous in face of the interrogation; she was beginning to see where the shots were aimed at, and she didn't have a plausible explanation for anything. "If you don't want to tell me that, you could as well tell me how many sets of earrings and choker you have in your jewellery box. No? Well, how do you say you count through the pile of expensive books that Serguei carries in his trunk? Or at least can you tell me how you managed to have two-month holidays in the Himalayas with the children every summer?" The Potions Master's tone had risen quite a bit during his rant, but Svetlana wasn't caring for details anymore. She knew what kind of sudden realisation had her husband had during lunch, and she had to make up an answer, fast. "The jewels are family heirlooms, the Karakoffs are a old and rich family. The books, most of them, were presents from Serguei's godfather" Snape flinched at the mention of Lucius Malfoy, but Svetlana carried on "About the holidays, and the clothes... I have received various gifts from my family in Russia, and I have invested them well" "Don't lie to me, Svetlana" hissed Severus warningly "You didn't have a single jewel when we married, except for what I bought you. The Karakoffs, like any old-fashioned family, would not give anything expensive to a married woman, thinking she depends on her husband from her wedding day. And Lucius... do you think I don't know he hasn't seen you since I left you?" "You are mistaken. Lucius didn't forget his obligations like others did. He visited Serguei on his birthday, and splashed on expensive presents, buying him everything I couldn't afford." Snape, who hadn't reacted to the veiled reproach, remained silent "That he chose to hide those facts from you, is something you should ask him and not me" "What about the rest? Are you saying that Lucius bought you those luxurious robes and paid for your holidays?" Severus was back to his mocking sneer, and Svetlana blushed. "What are you trying to say, Severus? Tell me clearly, or don't even think about it again" "Is there any other reasonable explanation for you enhanced acquiring power?" Snape met her blue eyes with his own blazing black ones, and she shifted her gaze to the fire. "Oh, yes, there is" she admitted softly; suddenly, she seemed to remember who she was, and her attitude changed accordingly "But I don't intend to tell you about it: you forsook all your rights to dwell into my private life long ago. Be content to know that Lucius didn't give me all that as payment for enjoying my dubious charms, and stop putting your overlarge nose where it doesn't belong!" Svetlana stood up smartly and deposited her empty glass on the mantle of the fireplace with a loud 'clank!'. Snape stood up as well, facing his wife threateningly.
"You cannot simply dismiss my question" he informed her, with the tone he would have used for Neville Longbottom.
"Can't I?" retorted Svetlana "Why not? Because you are my husband? Is that the reason you allege for doing this Spanish Inquisition? Well, don't rely on it too heavily, or you might find your argument crumbling..."
"You're right, I am your husband, I have a right to know" insisted Snape.
"You are my husband?" she asked, with a mirthless smile "Really? You threw me away, Severus. You decided I wasn't worthy of your presence, and cast me away like a broken toy. It was me who had to hide from the world for twelve years, because of the shame of having been rejected by none other than Severus Snape. Do you know how many people talked to me during those years, while you were comfortable here? Do you know the ostracism I had to go through, the rejected invitations, the returned owls? Do you know what my own family thinks about me? You didn't think about me for twelve years, but I had to live with your shadow hanging upon me for all that time... Serguei isn't the only who wants you out of our lives, you know?"
Svetlana was almost crying by that moment in time, and Snape was at a complete loss of what to say. Truth be told, he had always thought that he was as out of his wife's life as she was out of his, or maybe even more...
"Lucius was the only one who understood" resumed Svetlana, wanting to clear all doubts in one blow "And Narcissa, you know we've been friends since Beauxbottoms; they invited me, and Serguei, to Malfoy Manor, they sent us Christmas greetings... little details that made me feel accepted; you cannot understand" With steady hands, and flushed cheeks, Svetlana walked to the liquor cabinet and poured herself another shot of cold vodka.
She turned to look at Severus, and found him staring at her with a new expression in his usually shuttered face: it was surprise, mixed with regret, and unexpectedly, admiration. They stood in silence for a long moment, but she knew he wouldn't dare turn away from her now.
"I'm sorry" he said finally, with a voice which was rough around the edges. "I didn't know... you should have told me"
"How? How could I have reached you, when you were up in a pedestal for me? How did you want me to run back to you, when you had rejected me once?" There was an almost desperate quality to Svetlana's voice now, but she was way past caring. Snape opened his mouth to answer, but closed it when he realised he had nothing to say: now he was beginning to understand how Potter felt during his lessons. "You were my first in everything, Severus" Mrs Snape's voice was more hurt than angry "My first boyfriend, if that's what you once were; my first kiss, my first lover, and my first love. And you left me. I'm not going to forgive that." She once again left them empty glass in the fireplace, and then made a dramatic exit into her bedroom, the train of her satin robes flowing behind her.
The Potions Master was left standing in the middle of his living room, as shocked as if a tidal wave had passed over him. In all honesty, he couldn't say he had heard so many words from his wife at once, even less meaningful ones, and the event needed to be digested carefully. With a hesitant stride he made his way to his office, and started brewing a fresh batch of PepperUp Potion, in an attempt to clear his mind.
Meanwhile, Svetlana was chastising herself in front of her mirror.
//How did you think he wouldn't notice? You know he's anything but stupid, and yet you flaunt in front of him your expensive robes and jewels... I hope my outburst there put him off my trail for a while, but I'm sure he'll find out sooner or later! What am I going to do then? Should I tell Lucius Severus suspects something? No, what could he do about it anyway? Let him face his part of the problem...//
The Russian woman, while she had her inner monologue, kept glancing worriedly at her left shoulder. Finally, checking the doors were locked, she gently pushed part of her robes away, baring her soft and round shoulder, which should have been as perfectly flawless as the rest of her ivory skin. But it wasn't: the harsh outline of a fleur-de-lis, the sign of the French royalty in a far past, stood in stark black against her pale skin. Svetlana caressed the tattoo carefully, grimacing a bit when she counted the stars which surrounded the flower: twelve, at the moment, and prone to keep growing. Siena whined as she awoke, and her mother covered her shoulder hurriedly and went into her room: Severus Snape wasn't the only one who kept secrets in his family.
Unfortunately, Snape wasn't going to have as much time to cool off as he would have wanted. A peremptory knock on his office door awoke him from the reverie he had immersed himself as he watched the red potion simmer.
"Come in!" snarled Snape. The soft steps of Serguei Snape crossed the threshold and stopped in front of the teacher's desk, to the Professor's great surprise.
"Here is my essay on the bezoar, sir" said the boy, dutifully. After a short pause, Serguei spoke again. "I also wanted to thank you, for letting my mother stay with you" A dry smile, improper for a child so young, came to his pale lips "I know it's your duty to do so, but you could have forgotten about it, like you did before"
The apparently off-handed commentary resounded like a slap in the silent classroom. Snape clutched the edge of his worktable, silently wondering if it was because of the blood-relations that his children and wife could get under his skin so easily.
"I will not accept morality lectures from you" he spat between gritted teeth.
"Won't you?" Serguei seemed politely surprised "If I were you, I would take advice from whatever source it came"
"Have you come here to goad me into doing exactly what to you?" wondered Snape, looking frankly frightful.
"I came here to thank you" replied the hard voice of his son "I don't find you very receptive at all, though"
"I am your father, your teacher, and your Head of House; you have no right to talk to me like that"
"You had no right to abandon my mother like you did, and did it stop you? I think not, so spare me the 'respect' talk" Serguei turned to leave, satisfied of the way the conversation had gone; he didn't count on the recent regrets raised by Svetlana.
"I already talked to her, and told her that I'm sorry" Severus' voice was still cold, but the words caught Serguei totally off-guard. It was only a moment before he recovered, though.
"Do you think that a simple apology is going to change things?" Once again, Snape asked the Heavens what education had his son had to make him so unnaturally mature; he should know the answer, because it had obviously been the same education he himself had been raised by.
"It's a start, Serguei. There are things that cannot be changed overnight, I know, but that doesn't mean we can't change them at all" Too touchy-feely to be left without a touch of sarcasm "Besides, I distinctly remember your mother asking you not to judge things you know nothing about"
Serguei hesitated in the brink of anger and amusement, before settling for a mixture of both.
"And I remember her asking you why you had gone back to her in time of need" the boy let the full meaning of his statement sink in "Have you answered that question as well?" Serguei turned to leave again "Until next lesson, sir" and he was gone, leaving Snape to look after a too-thin cauldron of sickly-yellow potion.
"We have worrying news, I'm afraid" said Dumbledore as a greeting when he turned to the gloom faces that filled his office. It was the first Order Meeting since the beginning of the term, and there were more problems to solve than ever. At the moment, though, there was a particularly worrying piece of news that had to be delivered. "We have received very useful information from our sources in the Dark Side" Snape was never mentioned in, or even less attended those meetings, just in case there was a mole who could endanger his position.
"As a matter of fact" picked up Minerva McGonagall "we've been given a good outline of how the Death Eaters work." The Transfiguration teacher summoned a large box-diagram and started explaining it to her colleagues "According to our sources, the new Death Eaters recruits are divided into self- contained cells of no more than five members, lead by a commander that reports to the next level of authority, which in turn reports to a especial link between them and the Inner Circle, where the most veteran Death Eaters are. This ensures that no newcomer knows more than a handful of his colleagues... actually, we don't think that anyone else besides You-Know- Who himself knows every single Death Eater" The old witch gave a weary sigh "It's very complicated to infiltrate effectively such an institution"
"This is not all, though" resumed Dumbledore where worried murmurs began to be heard around the room. "Since the failure of our rapprochement to the giants, we have started making contact with the Ministries of Magic of other countries; unfortunately it seems as if Voldemort had the same idea before us, and had already got in touch with many of the Dark groups of Europe, and a few in Asia as well. We have reliable information from Russia" Harry actually looked up at this, his green eyes sparkling and the gears in his brain turning "where the Ivan the Fourth movement had apparently struck a deal with the Death Eaters. Unconfirmed rumours come from France, Germany, the Netherlands, Turkmenistan, Italy, Corsica, Israel and Greece"
"Will the Ministries from those place be of any use, or will we have to do all the work?" asked Mr Weasley with a fatalist look; since his fall-out with the Ministry, he had begun to regard bureaucracy as the bane of his existence.
"I think we can't worry about them right now!" exclaimed Sirius "We have enough problems as it is... if those countries need help, they can get it from somewhere else!"
"We shall discuss that later" interrupted Dumbledore, the light on his blue eyes gone "The most worrying piece of news had yet to be delivered" Seeing the expectant looks around him, the old Headmaster sighed "You remember there has been a series of uncharacteristically... let's say 'clean' attacks to our interests. Starting with the attack to the Dursley's last summer, and ending with the murder of ex-Auror Alastor Moody three weeks ago, those operations were terribly efficient, professional and quick. Worst of all, we couldn't find any Death Eater connection to them, except for the obvious motif of them suiting their interests"
"We concluded that Death Eaters were not responsible for them, at least not physically" remembered Harry, who had been the cause of the attack to his relatives, which ended in the trio's death; the Gryffindor had been saved because he was out on an errand at the time, but the guilt haunted him even to that day.
"Now we know who to blame" announced Dumbledore, looking at a piece of parchment on his desk. "Les Fleurs du Mal seem to be responsible" Mr Weasley, Professor McGonagall and the most veteran members of the Order showed their preoccupation, and Bill Weasley stepped forwards to explain.
"This organisation has been active since the 17th century, when it was founded by Cardinal Richelieu. The Cardinal was a very powerful wizard and he used his magical powers to keep his power and standing; one of the ways he found to do that was to coordinate a force of assassins, loyal to his person and cause, Les Fleurs du Mal. Their name comes because at the beginning they were chosen amongst those condemned by the French justice to jail or forced works; those people were marked with a red-hot iron in the shape of a fleur-de-lis in their shoulder. Nowadays, the organisation is neither French, nor dedicated to a sole leader. They are the most professional, effective and successful mercenaries in the both the wizarding and Muggle worlds. They have moral links to none, and work for everyone who can pay their rates: the Russian Mafia, the Corsican vendettas, the South American drug-dealers, the Afghanistan war-lords, the Chechen independentists... and now, the Death Eaters"
"There is preciously little we can do about them" continued Dumbledore "We know next to nothing about Les Fleurs: nothing about their leaders, headquarters, recruitments, or modus operandi. Those who work with them will never admit it, those who work against them rarely live to tell the tale. Fortunately, Voldemort seems to require their services only for special operations, but we still need to be on our guard now, more than ever..."
-------------- A/N: Well, how was this? ::wipes sweat off her forehead:: I took the name for Les Fleurs du Mal from Baudelaire's work of the same name, and the legend was inspired by Dumas' "The Three Mukseteers"... now it's your turn to work, and drop me a line or two giving me your opinion... thanks!!!