Chapter Forty-one: Decisions

The meeting was smaller than the last, including only Malfoy's hand-chosen wizards. Rose served them quietly and as unobtrusively as possible. She remembered the faces of her attackers as if it had been only yesterday. In fact, most of the men in this room had mishandled her directly that fateful night. The short, greasy one that leered at her as she filled his glass had been one of those responsible for her bruised and bloody face. The one whose face she'd slashed was here as well, and made it a point to neither speak to, nor look at her. The rest treated her with a cold, distant civility that made her feel even worse than they had before. Not one offered her a hint of warmth or apology.

For once, Rose was in absolute accord with Alex. These heartless, sadistic bastards didn't deserve to live, and tonight, if her famous luck was with her, they would cease to.

They hadn't been there long before Lucius began one of his sovereign speeches. Rose fought down a hysterical giggle as she drew a handful of pellets from her apron and dropped them behind a nearby pedestal bearing a bust of some long-deceased Malfoy forebear. For a moment, she wondered at the sneer on his face, such a perfect likeness of a well-known Malfoy characteristic. The snap of the pellets' opening was covered by Malfoy's resonating voice. She hurried away from the spot and dropped another handful behind a plant near the exit, then slipped out, sealing the door behind her.

Pressing her ear to the wood, she heard the first few thumps of falling bodies, then raised voices. Someone tried the door, then slammed heavily into it. Mingled curses were heard along with several opening spells. Rose laughed aloud as Lucius Malfoy's voice, which had been trying to restore order, halted in mid-shout. Another resounding thump announced that he had succumbed to the rapidly-spreading fume.

More quickly than she'd hoped, the room went silent, and the only sound to be heard was the wild beating of her own heart. She pulled her head away from the door and settled herself to the fact that, of the eleven men in the room, only one was certain to be spared. As for Malfoy... well, it wasn't so much a matter of whether he should die as whether she could kill him.

Pulling the enchanted scarf from her pocket, she wrapped her face before opening the door, wand and blade unsheathed, just in case. Rose took a long look around the room at the helpless, unconscious men and felt a twinge of conscience. This couldn't be right, killing...

Shut up, Rose, Alex seethed. This has nothing to do with your bleeding heart. Rose felt a quake deep inside, a shift in the magic as softly-curling hair suddenly spilled down around her shoulders. "It's about theirs," she snarled, raising the blade over the first victim. The glamour, far too strong to be overcome for long, shifted back into place then, and she shivered at the magic crawling over her skin.

She had only a moment to curse herself for teaching Draco to move so silently before his stunning spell slammed into her, and she was lost to darkness.

Alex gasped violently for air as the peace of oblivion was ripped away. The blinding light burned her eyes, and for a moment all she could see was a large, dark blur. As her vision cleared, the specter became a very grim Lucius Malfoy. He sat in a chair pulled so close that their knees touched. In his face, there was nothing: no anger, no confusion, just an ice-cold void, and that was vastly more terrifying than his fury. Her mind left behind its scheming. She was completely unarmed, and with Lucius and his entire army holding her at wandpoint, all she could think to do was resign herself to her fate and hope she could bait him into making it quick.

"Hi, gorgeous," she greeted cheerfully. "How'd my practical joke go over?"

His eyes remained cold, but intense, studying her like a reptile about to strike. "Alexandria," he whispered. "What have you done with Rose?"

Unable to contain herself, she exploded with laughter, the situation suddenly hilarious. The solid smack of his hand across her face did nothing to sober her. She smiled sweetly, still chuckling and no longer concerned about her fate, just anxious to get it over with, as quickly and painlessly as possible.

"Sweet, beautiful Lucius," she said, wiping away the tears from her mirth. "You really are thick, aren't you?" She sat forward a bit and he raised his wand in response. She ignored the threat. Anything she could do to hurry death now would only work to her favor. Anything was preferable to the dungeons... or the coffin. "Or, maybe," she began again, "you just lack the balls to accept the truth about your precious pet... and her motives."

A muscle in his jaw twitched, a sure sign that she was getting to him. He looked away from her, breathing harder, obviously fighting for control. Just a little nudge and she might avoid decades of torture. She fell to her knees and clung to his legs. "Oh, master, please don't believe Alex! I was a loyal servant, your slave in every way. But, I've been so bad! Please punish me! Beat me, master!"

He'd had enough. A rough hand in her short hair wrenched her away from his leg and flung her unceremoniously to the floor. "Stop!" he shouted, his voice or the force of his magic causing the vase on the mantle to rattle. "Enough," he added in a harsh whisper. "You expect me to believe that Rose never existed?"

She regained her seat with a shake of her head, watching him watching her every move. "Oh, she existed alright. For a while there, I wasn't sure which of us was the genuine article. I can't believe you didn't notice the similarities. I didn't make her character too detailed. I didn't expect her to need to withstand months of your scrutiny. But, it's always been me, Lucius, beneath the glamour. See?" She reached up, hesitantly, and removed the earring. In a few moments, a wave of golden-brown had spilled down her back, her skin had lightened, and her features returned to normal.

From behind Lucius, Draco let out a tiny, whispered, "No."

She looked past Lucius to the little dragon. "Come on, Drac. Don't be that way. It's still me." He stepped back with an emphatic shake of his head, and looked up at Severus. The potions master took a step forward, not quite putting himself between them, but the assertion of protection was clear.

Alex sighed, lowered her head for a moment in disappointment, then returned to her explanation. "I came here for information, Lucius. In and out in a couple of weeks. A little info, a little revenge. It's that simple. It never occurred to me that you'd stoop to imprisoning the help."

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes glossing over just for a moment. "All this time," he whispered.

"All this time," Alex mimicked with a smile. "See. It's not as complicated as you thought."

"Why?" he asked coldly, regaining his composure at once.

"Why what?" she asked flippantly. "Why kill your Death Eaters? Just following orders, master."

An incredulous, "What?" was all he could manage to reply.

Alex slumped back and ran a hand through her hair. Suddenly, she felt very, very tired. All that had happened in the past two days seemed to rush up on her at once, and she wanted nothing more than to stop. If death would allow her to close her stinging eyes, and rest her tortured mind, then she'd welcome it. Tears welled now as emotions she'd restrained for days came pouring through. "Oh, come on! You can't have forgotten! It was right after you buried me alive, exhumed and tortured me." She glanced at Severus whose face had gone paler than usual. "After that, you told me to do what I came here to do," she said accusingly, "to fulfill my purpose. My purpose was to kill Death Eaters." She gave a shrug and a smile. "I guess that plan's scrapped, now. So, go ahead, my love, my master. You can't possibly hurt me any more than you have." She leveled cold eyes with his. "Just kill me and get it over with."

He smiled then, a slow curving of the lips that conveyed nothing but raw malice as he answered slowly. "No, pet. Not death. Not for you. Not for a long, long time."

"Oh, come on!" she shouted. "After all we were together, that's the best you can offer me: a long, slow death?" She leaned forward so that her next words could only be heard by him. "You're a monster, Lucius. I can't believe I ever thought you were a man."

Abruptly, he stood, reclaimed his wand, and leveled it at her head. "That's enough!" he shouted. After a deep breath, he continued in a more subdued tone. "You know, pet. You're right. You have quite worn out your welcome, and it's time for this charade to end. Avada..."

"NO!"

He stopped, pivoted, and scowled. The shouted order had come from either side of him, from both Severus and Draco, but it was his son he decided to address. "Son, this woman has lied to us from the moment she arrived. You know the penalty for betrayal."

He hesitated, looking up at the looming figure of his father, then back at the assassin in the chair. "I know, father, but... it's Rose."

"That." He pointed his wand slightly to the side, indicating the woman behind them. "Is not. Rose. That is an assassin who was caught in the act of attempting to slaughter my Death Eaters. You saved our lives, son, but I will not reward you by allowing a traitor to live."

He raised his wand again and Alex stiffened, forcing herself to face him with her chin raised and her gaze unwavering. She was saved by a sudden, collective hiss echoing through the room.

Lucius swore violently, sheathed his wand, and rubbed his forearm with a grimace. He turned to the roomful of men, all of them reacting much the same, then locked his eyes on Severus, his chosen right hand. A look of absolute dread passed between them.

"Sweet Merlin, no," Severus breathed. "Not now."

Lucius surveyed the room for just a moment with a look of absolute panic, then seemed to calm. With a regal toss of his hair, and a stiffening of the shoulders, he faced his associates. "It would appear that destiny has chosen to call at a rather inopportune time, my friends."

"Are you prepared for this, Lucius?" Severus asked quietly.

"I have been prepared since the night he called his "faithful" back into his service."

"What about the assassin?" one of the others asked, a nasty glint in his eye.

"You could just take off this damn bracelet and let me go," she called.

"Shut up!" a duet of angry voices shouted over their respective shoulders.

Before she had time to register the events leading to her situation, Alex found herself petrified and thrown into the storage closet at the other end of the room: a quick solution to a messy problem.

Lucius loomed, a dark silhouette in the doorway, for a last word. "When I return, Alexandria, you and I will discuss this further." For a very uncomfortable moment, he just considered her. "I think I'll take you apart piece by piece... starting with your lying tongue." He nodded politely, a tiny smirk playing around his mouth. "I'll be home soon, pet."

With that, the door slammed and she was left in darkness.

Her surprise could not have been greater when the door to her makeshift prison opened only minutes after she heard the telltale crack of disapparation, and Draco's white-blonde head appeared in the doorway. Wordlessly, he leveled his wand at her prone form. "Finite Incantatem!"

It took three tries to actually lift Lucius' spell, but in the end, she was freed. When his small, pale hand reached for hers, she took it without question. "Sorry about that," he said quickly. "It took quite a while to break through the wards on the door. I'm not the wizard my father is... not yet."

"You're a fine...."

"Just get out," he interrupted. "Look, no offense, but there's no time to get all chatty. I don't know how long they'll be gone." With absolutely no fanfare, he grabbed her wrist and unfastened the summoning bracelet, then retrieved her wand from the pocket of his robe and placed it in her hand. "Now, Rose... or whoever the hell you are."

"I'm still Rose, Drac. It's still me." She gave a tight smile that wasn't returned. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Don't," he answered shortly, refusing to meet her eyes. "I owe you."

She held out a hand and he took it slowly, as if unsure of her seriousness. "Not anymore," she answered soberly. "We're even. Okay?" He didn't answer, just stared nervously, then yelped as she pulled him into a tight hug. "It's been fun, little dragon. I'll never forget you... and I'm really sorry about this."

He never felt the prick of the needle, just went limp in her arms.

Draco awoke to the sight of his father's face leaning over him, studying him with an almost painful amount of concern.

"Are you hurt, son?" he asked anxiously.

"No," he answered thickly. "I'm fine." He blinked hard and looked more closely. "You, on the other hand...."

"I'll heal," he interrupted quietly. Draco's gaze wandered from father to professor, both were bruised and a bit bloody. Snape's cloak was actually smoldering at the hem. A closer inspection revealed that his face was burned as well, down the left side. His father bore two slashes from left shoulder to forearm, but he was right; a short visit from the mediwizards, and neither would bear the marks tomorrow.

"And, the Dark Lord?" Draco prompted.

His father gave him a rare smile. "He's gone, son. It's over."

"But, wasn't Harry Potter supposed to..."

"Harry Potter is a normal, bothersome, brat of a boy," Severus chimed in. "Prophesies are rarely what they seem, Draco. Most of the time, they are absolute rubbish. This particular one, however, was at least self-fulfilling. As long as Voldemort's complete concentration was on that arrogant boy-child, he had no control over his Death Eaters. Even his own power was compromised. In the end, even as he lay beneath the force of our magic, he cursed Harry Potter, so mad with fear and loathing that he was completely blind to the treachery within his own ranks. I'm not certain that he even knew who took his life." Severus lowered himself heavily to the bed with an enormous sigh and ran a shaking hand through his hair. "That is my only regret. I wish that I could have witnessed the knowledge of my betrayal in those inhuman eyes. He owed us that, at least."

The room answered with silence, father and son staring at him as if he was a complete stranger.

"What?" he snapped.

Lucius blinked, shook his head slowly. "Severus Snape, I believe those are the most words I've heard you string together since we were children."

Snape gave something that might have been a smile. "I believe you have something for your son."

He seemed to start. "Oh, yes." He pulled a scroll from his robes. "Your dear friend, Rose, is gone," he leveled a look at him, "no doubt with your assistance."

"Father..."

Lucius held up an authoritative hand. "We'll discuss it later. I've told my associates that she was adept at wandless magic, that you had nothing to do with it. She left with most of my private collection, though she was sporting enough to leave the tomes penned by your ancestors... and this." He held out the scroll, and Draco slid it slowly from his father's hand with a tiny, apologetic smile.

My dear boys,

Thank you so much for a fascinating vacation. I assure you that the experiences of this summer will remain with me forever, and I will treasure each moment: the good, the bad, and the really horrific.

Lucius, I have left your kind gifts to me, one summoning bracelet and one serpentine choker, on the bed we shared for a short while. Thanks, but... well, you understand. I helped myself to a few irresistible goodies I found lying around. Hope you don't mind, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that you owed me. Your greatest treasure I have left with you, unscathed as I always intended, no matter how you poisoned his mind against me.

Severus, my love, I will request the return of my owl as soon as I am settled.

Draco, I wasn't kidding when I said it's been fun. You were the best part of this whole adventure. I don't think I would've made it without you. For your truly unique friendship, I bequeath to you my trusty earring. I'm sure that your father, Sev, or some other wizard will cleanse it for you and imbue it with any glamour you like.

I will miss all of you desperately... for many different reasons, but I hope I never see any of you again. I wish you raucous adventure, unruly women, and good fortune,... always.

All my heart,

Alex

Ps. By the time you get this, I'll likely be raising a glass to toast your newly-won freedom. So, here's to you, boys. Remember, life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away. You've given me enough of those to last a long, long time.

--NOT QUITE THE END--