Aiden 'Phoenix' Hawke rose was the kind of man that rose when people entered the room. His easy smile was welcoming and civil, and the same if directed towards lords of industry or common men and that endeared him to everyone who knew him. He had his white hair slicked back and was nursing a small, well-trimmed bread giving this aura of age and styling that his mother had been known to despise. His blue eyes sparkled and teemed with a sort of teasing wisdom that was hidden under his stern face. He was tall, even when sitting, and downright towered over both Gideon and Severus when he greeted them. Phoenix reached over and took his hand, slightly bowing. "Hello, Armsman."
"I'd be more comfortable if you'd call me Alex or Severus, Sir."
"I thought you might, but my father said I shouldn't expect anything from you." Hawke smiled, before turning his attention to the other Auror. "Gideon it's good to see you. How are your hands?"
Gideon tugged on his cuffs nervously. Underneath his cuffs were deep ugly scars that tore through his wrists and made even the simplest of movements like holding a cup or picking up a book painful. It had been almost a year since Mordred attacked him and Gideon had yet to be able to perform a rudimentary charm. Severus glanced over and touched his shoulder. The Malfoy shrugged off his hand and straightened. "I'm fine, Hawke. Where is Sky?"
"In the Seers Wing, probably..." Hawke answered. "Her and Chandra are probably busy with another kidnapping."
"Correction: we're enjoying the spoils of our kidnapping." Shouted a voice from the behind them. Snape turned and smiled at Chandra Firestone as she entered. The red head pulled Snape into a warm embrace. "We've been dying for you to show up!"
"I had to clear up some things before reporting." Snape apologized, kissing her on the cheek before releasing her to her husband and turning his attention to the two women that still waited. Sky Falls still looked like a mystic rather then an Auror, dressed in a Healer's light blue instead of the dark Navy, she pulled back her hair and revealed a white bandage over her eyes.
"Alexander Rouge," Falls drawled, coming to him. "I have to say, you look like crap."
"Cecilia," Snape said, holding her at arms length. "Had I known I'd see a vision of loveliness like you on my first day, I would have dressed for the occasion." He turned to the younger woman. "I have to admit, I'm stunned by both you and your friend's beauty."
"So this is the great Miracle Maker." The woman said, smiling softly. "And my namesake."
"I think you have me at a disadvantage…" Severus began, casting looks at Gideon and Aiden who now suddenly became interested in the ceiling.
"I'm sorry, Professor." The woman continued. "I didn't introduce myself. My name is Alexandra Van Ness."
Severus stepped back from her, looking back at Gideon again. This time the Auror smiled softly and shrugged. Snape forced up a smile although he was feeling a little queasy. Sydney had named a daughter after him? He hadn't even known Amissa was pregnant.
"She wasn't." Alexandra said suddenly. When she saw his look, she apologized. "I'm a Seer, like my father was…a Touch-Know. You wouldn't have known that…he kept it a closely guarded secret." She released his hands and smiled apologetically again. "I shouldn't have read you. I didn't…"
"It's fine." He assured her, "Back at work, Sybil does the same thing." A thoughtful expression crossed his face. "I'm going to miss the warnings of death and decapitation."
Chandra frowned at the comment, looking at her husband when he touched her hand. He shook his head and whispered. "Severus never said he was coming back for good. It's a choice he'll have to make in time."
"Unless he already has made it." Aiden said, thoughtfully. "After all, he has a life back in England…a whole world."
Snape found himself looking away from them, and settling his eyes on Alexandra. He didn't want to worry about England right now. England held bad memories, and graves of love ones- the grave of his own daughter. Kaiya had been killed. On instinct, his mind began to search for other things that would or should occupy attention and it took considerable strength to force himself to remember her. He would not dishonor her by forgetting her, by folding her away into some dark corner of his mind, like he had with Billy and his family. That had caused too much pain, too many regrets.
He didn't need anymore of either one.
"It's a choice he'll have to make, but not right now." Falls quipped. "Right now, the only thing he has to decide is if he's bringing the Whiskey or the Beer."
"To what?" He asked, nervously. The smiles that were erupting on the faces of his squad fellows were beginning to give him a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Gideon groaned playfully. "That's right! This is the close-knit family…"
"Every Monday we all get together and get drunk for the rest of the week." Sky explained. "Today it's going to be at me and Aiden's."
"Tsk, tsk, you're living together and aren't even married. Meow!" Gideon quipped and was promptly kicked for the comment.
Alexandra laughed. "Please say you'll come, Alex. I'm dying to get to know you."
"Be careful, she's a mini-Missa…a real heartbreaker."
"I learned well from step-mom." She confided. "So are you bringing whiskey or beer?"
"Whiskey for my men and beer for my horses." Hawke and Gideon said in union, apparently referring to some Auror joke Severus was not yet privy too.
Chandra rolled her eyes. "Thank Merlin, you came home Severus. I was going to kill them if someone sane didn't come to help them first."
"Aw, you know you love us!"
"Like the plague."
"That's it! It's time I told you. I'm gay and me and Lexa are running off together. Aren't we Lexa?"
"Yes, ma'am. You're my only true love."
"Marry me?"
"We'd have to go Europe."
"I'll start packing."
Halfway through this conversation, the office door had opened and admitted a small Latino who met Aiden's eyes politely before bowing his head and waiting to be acknowledged. Severus turned slightly to take him in. He was not a commanding figure and looked even smaller and inconsequential when put beside Hawke or even Falls but Severus was instantly attracted to him. He was half-listening to Chandra and Lexa bicker and favored Severus with a smile that said this wasn't the first time the lovers had come out of the closet.
He waited till Lexa had fallen into Chandra's arms before speaking in a mellow voice thick with an accent that reminded Severus of his mother. Severus found himself leaning forward to hear the man clearly, to which the man responded by stepping forward, to be heard over the women's laughter. Clearly he was use to straining to be heard. "Beck hasn't checked in yet?"
It was then almost simultaneously; that the laughter died as the women threw sympathetic gazes at the man. Hawke only shook his head, "She hasn't, have you tried Fay?"
"Hasn't seen her." He answered, and suddenly looked tired. "You ordered her home, right?"
"It was a direct order."
"I know where she's at." He said, grimly as if he was about to undertake a task he was dreading with a passion. He sighed again, this time for strength and smiled at the group. "And I'm hurt Lexa, Chandra…I thought you guys loved me."
"Aw! We do love you, Diego!"
Severus jumped back just in time to avoid being in the crossfire as Chandra, Lexa and Sky abandoned Hawke and Gideon to shower attention on the man. Diego laughed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a water gun to fend off the females. He smiled at Severus, and tossed him the gun. "You'll need that if you're going to work here."
Severus rolled the gun over in his hand and smirked. "And you are?"
"This is Diego Solis." Hawke said with enthusiasm.
"You're Crouch's Press Secretary?" Snape said, impressed. He found himself looking again over this small creature of man. "You're the one who had the world believing the Dark Prince was just a rumor during the first war…"
Diego pushed his hands into his pockets and shrugged sheepishly. "Yeah, but I can't seem to convince him to fight now when we need him…" He turned to Hawke, then back to Severus. "Look, I don't mean to cut you off, but I got to go find my wife…I would love to talk to you though. I want to hear first hand how you and your squad took down Rio Hecate." Severus was about to comment on how a civilian reporter knew about that classified mission but Diego merely flashed one of his embarrassed smiles. A smile that faded once he remembered his intended mission. He turned to Hawke. "We'll probably only drop by tonight. She won't be feeling well."
"I want you to take Severus with you. He needs to meet Beck Stallens if they're to be partnered."
Diego frowned and glanced at Severus. "I don't think that's a good idea, Cousin…"
"Please," Aiden cut him off. "I think it's very important that he understands what he's getting into." He turned to Severus. "Do you mind?"
"Of course not, sir." Snape picked up his coat again and threw looks to the others, wondering if they held some idea of what was in store for him but if they did, none of their faces showed it.
The Black Light was one of those seedy bars that existed in the bad part of the city, under the dark side of the moon. This place was far from the comforts and security of Hecate or Mage's Weir and when Aurors passed here, the very walls themselves blinked and stared at the strange sojourners who dared visit. People and light retreated as Diego and Severus passed by, and then rushed back to their former place and leering dangerously at them. Snape met their eyes, and let his hand fall over his wand for them to see. Once these dark creatures bowed to him in fear and respect and it incest him that they no longer paid him the proper respect.
He was still a prince after all. Didn't that mean anything to these animals? Then he remembered that Mordred had defeated him and a shiver of fear ran the length of his body. He had the sneaking suspicion that the extent of his defeat was not fully known to him.
Diego's movements were assured as he pushed his way into the bar and to the bartender. Severus trailed behind, looking around at the faces, determined for some reason to protect this man before himself.
It must be the Auror in him coming back to the surface.
"Where is she Val?"
"Diego!" Cried a familiar voice in welcome. Snape's head snapped forward, staring at the bartender. It was the man everyone called Valentine. Valentine met his eyes, and his smile flickered slightly, glancing at Diego before back to him. Snape shook his head to assure the man he meant no ill will towards Solis. This seemed to comfort Val but the bartender still seemed too preoccupied to fully give Solis an answer. "Let me pour you a drink, Sol."
"Where's Beck?"
"I haven't seen her."
"Please." Diego forced out through gritted teeth, as he closed his eyes and inhaled. "I don't want to toy around tonight. Just…what room is it?"
"Room 3. Let me get her for you…"
"I got her." Diego said, moving towards the back of the bar, to where steps led up to the second floor. He was well accustomed to this routine. Snape moved to follow.
"Let me pour you a Brandy, Professor." Valentine said, ignoring the other customers. "On the house."
"No." Diego said. "He's coming up too."
Valentine sighed, and nodded; looking as miserable as the women had back at Hecate. Severus knew there was something wrong with the picture but was only beginning to grasp the full possibility. He wanted to why an Auror was in a bar that was tended by a man who had been Lord Voldemort's personal barkeep and Silas' close friend and business partner. He also wanted to know what Valentine was doing so close to Hecate Compound. Questions he doubted he'd get a straight answer to if he asked.
Again, he felt the pang of having to start over. He had always known if he returned to Hecate nothing would be the same but he didn't think he would go from being trusted aide to the Dark Lord and Dumbledore to being as dumb and ignorant as any first level cadet fresh from boot camp.
At least last time, he had Billy with him.
The second floor was a hallway filled with simple doors that Snape assumed led to small, cramp bedrooms designed for the distinct purpose of one-night stands. He was getting a sick feeling in his stomach and looked at Diego, warily. Something told him he was about to feel a great swell of respect and pity for the reporter.
Diego had finally stopped in front of the door marked three and sighed. He seemed almost hesitant to open the door, but then, remembering Severus was with him, pushed opened the door aggressively.
The sight inside repulsed Severus.
It was indeed a bedroom with only the most Spartan items, a full size bed, a nightstand and a lamp whose light was flickering on and off. In the air was the odor of rancid liquor, and spices that were used to make certain drug like potions. On the floor, jeans and a dirty shirt was messed up and thrown atop an Auror uniform that had been creased with care beyond perfection. Severus noticed that the boots also looked like they were shined by someone who took pride in their uniform and in their cause. But the woman before him didn't seem to fit that image, and this puzzled him.
The woman was sprawled out on her back naked on the bed. She had her right arm over her eyes, and the left cradled over her chest. Her hair was short and blond from a bad dye job that revealed jet black underneath, and gave her a boyish appearance despite the age that was over her face. The Auror looked old, spent, and war torn. A large scar sliced her neck almost in half- he knew Jack the Ripper's work when he saw it- which made him think this woman was a able fighter, and probably one that enjoyed the thrill of war too much. Her left hand was awkward in the way it laid in slumber, fingers turned in and fanned slightly, revealing a very old burn on her palm that spiraled up her arm and was wrapped by newer scars and nicks. She probably favored it if she had any use of it at all. But despite it all, the woman still kept her body toned and poised ready for war.
Diego ignored the man that was curled up with his arms around her waist and went straight to the woman's ear. He brushed her cheek and kissed her forehead. "Ar..." He glanced behind him. "Becka, come on. Let's get up and go home." He stroked her forehead and then her shoulders with a loving kindness that spoke of his boundless devotion to her. "Come on, Beck…"
Becka Stallens moaned in her sleep and stretch, groaning from sleep and the remains of drunkenness. She opened one eye, and focused on Diego before scoffing angrily. "Diego, you bastard…get away from me."
"Beck, get up. I'm taking you home." Diego spoke firmer this time. "Don't make me…"
"Oh?" She laughed, rolling over and showing for a moment a glint of red tattooed on her back. "Are you going to try and punish me? I'd like to see you try."
"Beckett, don't act like this…"
"What other way do I act?" She demanded. She reached back to the nightstand, sitting up and drinking from the flask. She laughed when she saw Diego's face. "Oh don't act like some tortured angel, trust me, it doesn't…" It was then she saw Severus. Becka's face went blank, staring at him. "You're the prodigal?"
Snape met her eyes, wondering about the woman's reaction. "I am."
"Hawke, that fucking bastard, I swear I'll kill him. That spineless scum…" She exploded into a storm of curses and hexes. In this torrid of anger, she woke her lover and threw him off the bed. "Get out of here, Simon! The Aurors have come to arrest you."
The Death Eater was Simon Roe, a devotee of Jack the Ripper who recognized Severus immediately. Simon ducked down, scurrying to put on his pants. "My Pri…I…didn't, milord…"
"Oh, stop sniveling Simon and just get out." Becka snapped. She pulled the bed sheet around her as she slipped on her pants with leisure. Diego stood now and went to the door to help Simon out cordially, as if he was a guest in his home rather then some random John his wife had cheated on.
Snape knew he was going to revere Diego right there.
"So, they've gotten the Prince back at Hecate…" Becka said, softly as she stood and reached for his shirt. "Wonder who had to die."
Severus glanced at Diego warily and bowed his head again. "I'll leave you to tend to her, then." He said shortly, before stepping out of the room and retreating back down the stairs.
Valentine was waiting for him.
"You know," Valentine drawled softly, setting down a cup and motioning to another. "Diego means a lot to me, I'd be very upset if something happened to him."
Snape had to smile as he crossed to the bar. "What now, threatening a Prince? Has my fall from grace been so complete that I would lose even the most common courtesies?"
"I never really belonged to the Member's Only club, Armsman." Valentine quipped softly. He pulled up his sleeve on his left arm reveal a dark red tattoo over his wrist, where normally a Dark Mark would be. It was a small, dark red Phoenix, whose wings were spread over the head, embracing the date of the Day of the Dead. Severus glanced at him, curiously, to which the old barkeep merely smiled again. "The name is Romulus Valentine, Master at Arms, first class…IA Unspeakable division."
"You were an Unspeakable? I thought only Interrogators held that title."
Valentine shrugged. "I was a mole-hunter, under Ellis. My mission was to discover the Hecate Judas' spy contacts within the Death Eaters…later, after Day of the Dead, my mission became to run information for Saint Michael to and from Hecate."
Snape felt an incredible swell of disgust rise up in him at the name of his old enemy. He had never discovered Michael's true identity, after the confrontation in the cathedral Michael became to relay more heavily on his spies and couriers, never appearing in public again. His name gradually became a legend, a myth half believed but still wholly feared. Now, every business transaction and information leak made in the underworld was said to go through Michael or one of his sources, he had become like some great and powerful Oz, always revered but never seen.
Snape hated fearing what lingered in the dark. He turned his head up, "So, Michael lives?"
"Lives?" Valentine said, genuinely shocked. He stifled a laugh, and jerked his head to the stairs. "You just saw him…" A soft begrudged smile. "Or her…"
All the disbelief and astonishment must have gleamed from Severus' face. He was not a man accustomed to being surprised, and the thought of that creature who lied half-drunk in her own stupor being the infamous and powerful Saint Michael didn't seem to meld well at all with his theory of what a power should appear to be. "That…" He forced out, "is Saint Michael?"
"Where you expecting wings, Professor?"
Snape's head snapped back to the stairwell where Beckett Stallens had emerged fully dressed with a look of contentment and arrogance on her face. She lifted her head slightly, to meet his eyes and waited for a response. In this moment, he could barely make out the ruthlessness and callous nature that must have made her feared and reviled.
But again, he saw nothing angelic in this abomination before him.
The room was large, lit by the moonlight, moaned with age and heaviness. Outside, in the Ardennes forests, wolves were howling and tearing through the snow after some intended kill. Inside, the Black Prince met with senior Death Eaters to plot war on the world. Large, great wooden tables spanned the length of the room and were covered with reports, maps and various items of importance to Mordred. The Prince was leaning over a map of Europe that was marked with Ministry of Magic headquarters and Auror hideouts. Underneath it was a global map with what appeared to be pencil marks crossing out various areas of the map.
"Is this what you have brought us here for?" Asked a voice that spoke with all the warmth of fresh blood. The speaker was a male as pale as the snow outside and just as cold to the touch. Coal black hair fell in lose curls around his slender, almost feline face. Eyes the color of sapphire gleamed green when the moonlight caught them, only to return to their dark, alluring blue. "Old maps and lofty dreams?"
A low growl came from across the room, as another man stepped forward. He was tall and stately, muscular from activity and predator-like in his stance, the smaller, dark haired men behind him put their hands on his arms warily. Sharp, round green eyes focused on the pale skinned visitor as thin lips curled in a wolfish grin. "This is Silas' handpicked protégé, Isaiah…you would do well to listen to him."
"The Vampires were never Silas' lapdogs like you were Ezra, I don't have to do anything."
"That is because Daniel was a fool, who got what he deserved."
"How dare you speak of Daniel with such disrespect!" Isaiah hissed, moving to attack. Ezra reared up in response only to have the smaller werewolves hold him back. A female vampire, white haired and amber eyed, reached over and merely grazed Isaiah's arms, causing the Coven leader to relax.
In the corner, Lucius Malfoy folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair to watch. Since news of the Dark Prince's defeat and Mordred's coronation reached him, Lucius had been wary of the young Prince and his decision to call upon the vampire and werewolves again didn't help matters. Mordred had his father's intelligence but Silas' thirst for blood; he had never tasted defeat or pain and Lucius wondered how a green warrior like Mordred- who knew only theory and no experience, could lead Voldemort armies to victory.
As a veteran of the first war, Lucius had no intention of losing as much as he had again.
A soft cough caught his attention and he glanced at Mordred's mistress and bodyguard. The twins, Mayon and Radella, were waiting in the far corner for their Prince to complete his business as well. They were last surviving members of Voldemort's Coven as far as Lucius knew and he got no comfort from the fact, they attended Mordred alone.
The bickering between Ezra and Isaiah was starting up again, as their aides began to shift nervously in wait. Radella and Mayon kept casting wary looks at their Prince, wondering with the silent man would speak. He had summoned them all hear an hour ago but instead of explaining his reason, he had let them bicker and assume. Now, with night reaching its demise, both parties grew silent in expectation and frustration.
"If," Mordred Eames finally spoke. As he started, his voice was low, barely above a whisper but it rose in tempo and pitch as he continued, weaving an intricate spell to the listener with his smooth, rich voice that beckoned back images of his grandfather Kaiser Snape, or his uncle Jesse. He spoke with all the force and commanding of a god poised to receive his throne. "We are done fighting amongst ourselves, we can focus on what we truly want."
"And what is that?" One of Isaiah aides asked, her keen eyes focusing on Mordred.
The Black Prince lifted his head. "Revenge. Pure and simple." Ezra scoffed, and Radella moved, stopping only when her brother held her hand. "Although, Hecate Compound on a platter wouldn't hurt."
"You have our attention."
"The Dark Prince is defeated, and with no Death Eater willing to protect him here, he ran to the only place he knows I can't touch…yet." Mordred drawled, walking around the length of the table to them. "And because of his loyalty and service to Albus Dumbledore, I can guarantee Hecate will believe and follow his plans blindly. There lies our chance, the Prince- while great and mighty- was predictable and a fool. I ask you only to honor the alliance you made with Silas those years ago."
"You are not Silas."
"I'm better. Silas was driven by his own lusts and ambition. My goal is clear. I want Hecate and Hogwarts destroyed."
"And what of the Dark Prince's head?" Ezra countered. "It's common knowledge that you want his blood. If we agree to join you, how do we know that desire won't over power you?"
"The mutt has a point." The Vampire aide continued, Isaiah glanced at her but said nothing, instead, waiting for Mordred to answer. "We risk open war if we defy Hecate. Plus there are rumors some of the senior Death Eaters swear no loyalty to you."
"And we would be breaking faith with Saint Michael." Now it was a werewolf who spoke. He was young, and probably was like Mordred in having never before tasted war. "Michael promised protection and peace if we went under. He has given us both."
"What would you give us?"
The door opened on the far side of the room, and every head snapped to attention. Mayon and Radella rose to protect to their Prince. The werewolves growled softly and rose, fingers sprayed out to as if they were claws extended for a kill. The Vampires were the only ones who didn't react, save for Isaiah who moved a little closer to his aide. Lucius Malfoy merely tilted his head and waited.
A figure walked into the room, dressed in a brown cloak with the hood drawn around the face and hands arched in front of him. "Leave Michael to me." The figure spoke. "My honorable Prince has given him to me as a gift, and in return I will deal with his…traitors."
"And who are you?" Isaiah whispered.
The figure looked to Mordred who nodded. Slowly, gingerly and as if the movement caused him great pain, the man withdrew his hood to reveal cobalt blue eyes.
"I am called Choice."
So entranced were the leaders of the creatures that no one, not even Radella and Mayon noticed Lucius rise and steal away from the room.