Malice in his voice

Chapter 2: Snape

Black paralytic in an Order meeting, oh this is delicious, he'll find a way to drop that into his report to Dumbledore, what a pity Potter can't see his dear godfather in this disgusting condition, wouldn't it be rich if Black spewed or pissed himself, and he knows the spells to do just that, nausea or humiliation often soften a subject up for Veritaserum better than pain, pity Bellatrix could never grasp that, but he needs his wand for the spells and he's wary about openly hexing the mutt.

Since that bloody awful night when Black pushed him into showing the Dark Mark to Tonks, he's made sure he doesn't spend a moment more than necessary in the same room with Black, he's afraid of what will happen if Black angers him again, he's afraid of what would happen if he used the Killing Curse. It's been 14 years since the Dark Lord fell, 14 years since he last used the Avada Kedavra, but he can still remember the rage and hate that's needed for the curse, and it won't stop with Black if he goes down that road again. Lupin and Moody would be bound to get involved, it would turn into a major firefight, the Aurors would turn up, and he'd be dead or in Azkaban when it was over. Not even Dumbledore could save him from Azkaban if he used an Unforgiveable in front of witnesses – his lip curls – and if it was Black, maybe he wouldn't even want to.

Well, there's no chance of giving Black a little something to add to his hangover, Tonks isn't leaving, the aggravating little hussy, and Lupin will be back in a minute. Perhaps she isn't so aggravating after all, those Muggle clothes don't hide anything, do they? Mmm, she fills that singlet out nicely, could she still be interested after that fiasco with the Dark Mark? He eyes her frankly, might as well let her know that he appreciates an attractive woman, wondering idly if he'll ever get to find out if her pubic hair is the same flaming pink as the hair on her head. She eyes him back, just as frankly.

Lupin comes back into the kitchen, puts his arm around Tonks, for a moment he speculates that Lupin might have put Tonks up to this, in the hopes of literally catching him with his pants down, but it's just a Slytherin reflex, that's not Lupin's style, he's too squeamish, after all Lupin had finally stepped in and acted like a prefect on that horrible day by the Lake when James Potter had threatened to take his underpants off. Ah, so that's how it is, the werewolf is keen, probably keener than he knows. A dalliance with Tonks could have an unexpected bonus – like really twisting Lupin up. This is turning into something a lot more interesting than the usual Order meeting.

Tonks is looking directly, boldly, into his eyes. "Fancy coming down to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink?" she asks.

He thinks, Miss Tonks, I am not in the slightest bit interested in having a drink at the Leaky Cauldron. If it's more than a drink, though … He leans forward, speaks in his softest and most dangerous voice. "Just a drink, Miss Tonks?"

She reaches out and puts her hand on his chest, palm down, just over the heart. He knows that she can feel the heat of his body, and his heart starting to beat faster. He can smell her, smell her excitement. The evening is definitely looking up, perhaps it won't be necessary to visit a Muggle singles bar tonight. His habit of frequenting Muggle singles bars when he couldn't stand the asexual atmosphere at Hogwarts any longer, asexual for the staff anyway, the older students snogged relentlessly, was a secret he was keeping from both of his masters. Not that he tried very hard to keep the secret from the Dark Lord, it was always a good idea to let him think he had some dirt on Snape, something to punish him for if he was in the mood for inflicting punishment. And Dumbledore … he had a feeling that Dumbledore knew, and didn't mind. Dumbledore can be irritatingly understanding of vices sometimes, he can just hear him burbling on about what consenting adults get up to in the privacy of their own bedrooms being nobody's business.

Merlin's beard, but he hadn't been with a witch for a long time, Muggle singles bars were safe, he was anonymous in their world, the Dark Mark was just an ugly tattoo, and hardly anyone knew he was a half-blood, wizards would never think to look for him amongst Muggles. Whatever, it was better than visiting brothels, and it helped to keep him from thinking about the students, especially Ginny Weasley, that was really starting to bother him, she reminded him too much of Lily, not just the red hair but her personality: smart, funny, and no bullshit. He would like very much to be able to tell her that the Dark Lord had beaten seven different kinds of crap out of Lucius Malfoy for that stunt with the diary that had nearly got her killed – why had the Dark Lord been so very pissed off about that, Dumbledore had a theory but he wasn't sharing, the crafty old bugger, oh forget it, tonight he's taking a break from his personal war against the Dark Lord, Tonks is saying something about dancing, he looks into her eyes, yep, she means the horizontal kind.

She kisses him by the front door, he wasn't really expecting things to move so fast but that is OK, very OK, and when they get to the Apparition point she pulls him a bit further down the alley and starts kissing him again. Now she's running her hands over the skin of his back, under his shirt, he flinches a little when she touches the curse scars, pray god she's got more tact than to ask how he got them. He nearly yelps when he realizes her hands are pulling down the zipper of his jeans, doesn't she want to wait until they can get a hotel room, doesn't she even want to spend the night with him, and tomorrow's Saturday, he doesn't have any detentions, he'd been looking forward to waking up next to her warm body and making love again. Suddenly, he's angry, what an idiot he's been, for thinking she might want more than sex, might actually want to spend some time with him.

A thump and a crash remind him of where he is – a dark, dirty little alley in a rough part of Muggle London, has he gone MAD, how long is he going to last if he starts letting down his guard like this and letting his groin do the thinking? His wand is in his hand in an instant.

Tonks is murmuring something, something about an Auror and a Death Eater, what is she saying? And then he realises, this is a piece of bitchery worthy of a Slytherin, she just wants to humiliate him, it'll be something to snigger about with Black and Moody and Lupin, I don't think the greasy git's had a fuck in years, he was an absolute animal. Well, if she wants to be banged up against a wall, as if she was a cheap Knockturn Alley whore, he'll oblige. He grabs her shoulders and pushes her roughly up against the alley wall, one hand is across her throat and the other is reaching up under her skirt and pulling her knickers down, but she's sobbing, please, please don't. And this is freaking him out completely, he's heard that before, poor bloody Muggle bitches begging them not to do it, and although he doesn't join in, he doesn't do anything to stop it.

Bitch of an Auror, so she thought she wanted to hump a Dark wizard, did she? But she's bitten off a bit more than she can chew, maybe she should have read his Ministry file before putting her hand down his trousers, the stupid bloody bitch.

He hisses something venomous in her ear, then backs away from her, his wand in his hand, a few sparks spitting from its tip, she'd better have a bit more sense than to go running to Dumbledore with a pack of lies about him, Dumbledore trusts him. He repeats to himself, "Dumbledore trusts me, he trusts me", and he can't imagine what it would be like if Dumbledore stopped trusting him, it's just a void, empty and desolate.