Chapter Three
"Headmaster, I tell you, the woman can take care of herself! There's no need to…"
"Severus, that's not good enough. You should have done exactly what I asked you to do and no less."
"What you asked me to do was completely ridiculous! There was no way to know if she could be trusted."
"Trusted with what? I asked you to gently nudge her in the direction of self-preservation, to insinuate that there might have been more to her uncle's death than she was being told. Have you no subtlety?"
Severus gestured toward Alex' note which was sitting on Dumbledore's desk. "Obviously not."
"Oh, Severus, you've pursued Lucius Malfoy for days at a time without his ever suspecting a thing. Your talent for subterfuge is rivaled only by your gift for potion-making."
"Precisely my point, Headmaster," Severus said wearily. "We're not dealing with a helpless witch. If she can lead me on a leash all day and never once give the slightest indication that she knows I'm there, she can deal with Malfoy."
"My dear professor, I do believe that's genuine fondness I hear you expressing." The older man smiled warmly while Severus' eyes narrowed dangerously. He wasn't even going to give him the satisfaction of a denial.
"I'll keep my own council about that, Albus Dumbledore. I'm simply pointing out that…"
"That she's the only person to ever outmaneuver Potions Master Severus Snape?"
Severus, who had opened his mouth for a biting remark, froze as if petrified. It pained him to have to admit it, but Dumbledore was right. She had played him like a quidditch match and he was utterly captivated with her. Damn the woman! She was fascinating. And, though he despised himself for it, he greatly desired to see her again, wanted to see her hair catch and hold the sunlight, her lithe form maneuver gracefully through a crowd, her delicate lips curl into that warm smile that seemed to come so easily.
Dumbledore allowed his colleague's stunned expression to speak for itself. He knew the volatile man well enough not to press the issue. "Severus, I'll need you to keep a close watch on her, preferably on a more personal level," he gave him a look over his spectacles that brooked no argument, "and talk to Lucius Malfoy as soon as possible. Tell him she has no information. Keep him away from her. I know she's clever, but I'd prefer to take no chances. The sooner you find that scroll and destroy it, the better I'll sleep."
Severus had argued this point before, but he thought that he should make one more attempt at persuading the Headmaster to his side. "Headmaster, I truly don't think that you've considered all the benefits of the potion on that scroll. One drop in Voldemort's drink, and we could…"
"Or one drop in Harry Potter's pumpkin juice or Hermione Granger's coffee, or your afternoon tea. It's too easy, Severus. I know that it could be used for honorable purposes, but some books should be left on the shelf. That potion must never get into the hands of the enemy."
Severus sighed irritably. The barely-contained wickedness within him had been positively itching to get it's hands on that scroll since Lucius Malfoy had told him about it weeks ago. A few experiments had given him to know that he couldn't make the potion himself without the guidance that scroll would provide. Malfoy's involvement was a wrinkle he figured he could iron out. He had expected Dumbledore to order him to obtain the scroll, he never imagined that he'd want to destroy it. He cursed under his breath. He should have never told him.
Albus leaned forward in chair just a bit. "I heard that, Severus. No amount of scowling and cursing me is going to change my mind. I'll expect a full report by tomorrow night. You don't have to marry the woman," the twinkle in his eyes had returned, "just get to know her. Then let me know how much you feel we can tell her. The more we can tell her, the more likely she is to let us search for that horrid scroll."
"There appears to be no we involved here, Headmaster."
"Severus Snape?"
"Yes?"
"I refuse to debate this with you any longer. There are lives at stake, Severus, lives I'm not willing to risk. I must insist that you stop whining and do your job."
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Nestled in front of a newly-cleaned , gleaming hearth, Alex Borgin began the arduous task of unpacking both her old and new possessions. She had stripped the bedroom of it's mediocre furnishings earlier and given the place a thorough scrubbing. Tomorrow, she would start on the shop. It was her plan to have it back open in a few days time. No one she had spoken with about this thought it was remotely possible, but then, none of them knew how hyperactive she could be when she had a goal on which to focus.
As she unpacked her miniature furniture she began to ponder the events of this afternoon. She wasn't really certain when she was first aware of her pursuer, only that it was fairly early in the day. After she left Nina Pomphrey's, she noticed an intoxicating smell behind her, like a collection of exotic spices in a potion shop. It followed her all day, stronger when she was entering or exiting a store. Of course, she had also felt that tingling in the back of her neck that meant someone was observing her since she left her place early that morning, but she chalked it up to nerves. A few more details confirmed that she had a shadow. Familiar footprints when retracing her steps, a fumble of light footsteps when she had "changed her mind" and turned to reenter a shop. She had done both several times to see if she could cause him to make an incriminating mistake, but he was very good, and this was as intriguing as it was unnerving. As to how she knew it was a man, well, that was instinct.
Never one to just sit and think, Alex had busied herself around the room, enlarging and arranging furniture. By the window, there was now a large bed covered in burgundy and black satin, along with a couple of black bedside tables. In front of the hearth, there was a black loveseat and a deep burgundy chair for reading. A black iron desk and rolling chair sat against the far wall and in the kitchen, finally, there was a place to eat. It was just small café set, but something special nonetheless. Alex had found it in a shop on Diagon Alley. It's ornate, wrought iron legs could be seen under the round glass tabletop whose edge was rimmed in moons and stars etched in silver.
'Now why', she thought,' would someone be following me?' There were, of course, a myriad of possibilities, most of them too impersonal to allow her any details. It could be a client of her uncle's needing to wrap up some unfinished business. Nina had mentioned that her uncle dealt with some of the best thieves in the business. That would explain the obvious capability of this person. Perhaps he was trying to size her up as a potential buyer. No. That didn't make much sense. There were much easier ways to do that.
The possibility that bothered her the most was that someone was trying to get the measure of her, personally. It was not a pleasant prospect. However much she had enjoyed playing with her shadow, he had proven to be highly skilled and remarkably determined, two traits that should never be taken lightly.
Damn.
Absently, she began to prepare for bed. She had placed some ghastly wards on the door and the windows. She let down her hair which she had tied back to keep out of the cleaning potions. Anyone trying to break in would have to be a remarkably powerful wizard. A black silk shirt was pulled over her head. Not that anyone would try to break in. After all, the wizard in question hadn't proven to be violent. She slid into black silk pajama bottoms. Not that she'd given him a clear shot. There was really nothing to be worried about, she thought, as she climbed into bed and placed her wand under her pillow. Everything was going to be alright. She slid a dagger into the drawer of a bedside table and a handful of magical smoke pellets in the other. Still. One should always be prepared.
As she drifted off to sleep, minute details of the wizard who had pursued her turned over and over in her mind. When she awoke, she remembered dreaming of a tall man with long dark hair and pale skin running his hands over the carvings in her hearth while eyeing a potion bubbling in a small cauldron over the fire.
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Severus Snape awoke slowly from a dreamless sleep. He was feeling fairly relaxed until he remembered Alex Borgin. Albus expected him to report back tonight.
Damn.
The fact that he was being given no choice in this matter infuriated him. He was perfectly fine to watch over this woman from a distance. One didn't need to become socially involved. He mechanically showered and dressed as he fumed silently. This was completely unnecessary. One day, Dumbledore was going to push him too far. 'He thinks I can't see right through that fatherly smile,' he thought as he buttoned his finest white shirt. I can't believe he sees this as an opportunity to push me into a relationship. Just because I' m not repelled by the woman doesn't mean I want bed her. His hand slipped on the buttons of his black waistcoat as he had an involuntary vision of Alex writhing in pleasure beneath him, amber eyes squeezed tight in ecstasy.
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and pushed the image from his mind. This was business, and he was being ridiculous. Head cleared and a small vial of friendship potion in an easily-accessible pocket (just in case), he apparated to Diagon Alley.
His plan was to catch her at breakfast where he could introduce himself in a pleasant environment, thereby appearing less threatening. Hopefully, he would be able to establish a minute rapport, something that he could report to Dumbledore to placate him, then he had to get to Malfoy … quickly. His steps led him rapidly to the front of Nina Pomphrey's bakery and he took a moment to glance in the window and make sure his quarry was present. To his pleasure, she was. To his great distress, she was already involved in an animated conversation … with Lucius Malfoy.
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Thank you, Red Ribbon and Silverfey for your reviews. They've been the only encouragement I've had to finish this story. Your kind words have meant a great deal to me.
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