JANUARY 1980

Marlene watched him sleep. She had grown used to this sight now, but it never lost its appeal. One arm tucked beneath the pillow, the other curled against his bare chest, hand still splayed from falling asleep holding her fingertips. He breathed deeply, the rise and fall of his body like a gentle wave. The sound felt safe. The bed had since moulded to the shape of him, so that when he was gone it felt like an incomplete puzzle.

Evan looked so peaceful when he was asleep, as if half a year of fighting hadn't twisted him into something hard and dangerous. The truth though was that he was hard. He was dangerous. But then again so was she.

War does that to people.

Both Marlene and Evan had been ripped from the safe clutches of childhood and dumped headfast into a world of violence. They had learned to adapt to withstand brutality and ruthlessness. Granted, they had made different choices, but Marlene was a firm believer that people can change. That where they were born did not define them, but rather it was their choices.

It took a moment to realise that Evan wasn't breathing as deeply as normal. His eyes flickered open. She smiled, a little guiltily, and his lips curved in response. "Were you watching me sleep?" he asked, his voice hoarse but amused.

Marlene lifted her chin in mock outrage. "I have better things to do with my time than watch you sleep, Evan Rosier."

"Is that so?" he said, his eyebrow arched. Marlene nodded firmly and rolled over, keeping the covers pulled up to her chest.

Marlene felt him shift slightly and move towards her, closing the negligible gap between them with his body and its warmth. She tried to swallow the gasp that jumped to her throat when he placed his hand on her thigh. "What sorts of things?" he murmured into her neck. His breath felt like a caress on her skin. Even after a month of morning-time rendezvous, his words still made Marlene's heartbeat spike.

She twisted in his grasp, turning towards him so that they were almost nose-to-nose. His dark eyes watched her so intensely that she felt a blush rising to her cheeks. Then he pressed his lips against her, so slowly and so laboriously that it was almost cruel. A noise, mid way between a whimper and a growl, came inadvertently from the back of Marlene's throat. She felt him grin against her lips, just before his fingertips circled around her back and drew a soft, prolonged line from her shoulder blade to her lower back.

"You're a monster," she breathed.

"I've heard that before," he murmured back.

"This time it's true."

"Hmmm." Evan's strong hands gripped her suddenly, pulling her body against his and positioning her leg so that it straddled his hip. Heat rolled off him in waves and she was filled with the touch of him, the smell of him. He dipped his head and rested his lips on the hollow part of her throat. "You didn't tell me what better things you're supposed to be doing with your time."

Marlene's eyelids fluttered close. She knew he was speaking, but for the life of her she couldn't work out what his words were. His fleeting fingertips against her back, the feel of his lips on her skin, his mere touch was sending her into a frenzy.

"You seem to be all out of quick retorts," he said, pulling back slightly.

"Stop wasting it," she said abruptly.

"Stop wasting what?"

"My time."

Evan grinned, his face twisting with pleasure. This time he obeyed. He kissed her deeply, moving in time with her in a way that they had grown accustomed to. She knew where to place her tongue in synchronicity with his, where to touch his skin to elicit a shiver, and she knew that when she grazed his lip with her teeth that his eyes would still widen in thrilled surprise.

They moved harmoniously; two bodies, one soul, grappling to stay afloat in a sea of desire. But it wasn't just desire that drove them. It was understanding and acceptance. It was tenderness and it was fire and it was everything. When they were here together, stealing moments of normalcy in the meek light of the slowly rising dawn, nothing else mattered.

Later, their hearts racing in their chests, they fell apart, no longer touching save for the fingertips that wrapped themselves around each other's. "I didn't hear you come in last night," Marlene said softly.

"That's because I know the meaning of stealth, unlike some stampeding animals I know."

Marlene scoffed. "You and your stealth managed to head-butt my bed frame a few weeks ago and I spent all night patching you up. Is it the concussion that made you forget that?" She sat up, the blanket falling from her into a puddle on the bed. Evan watched the curve of her back as she stretched. The intensity of his gaze sent heat rushing to her cheeks.

Evan's eyes shifted back to her own. "They're moving tonight," he said quietly.

Marlene froze. "You're sure?"

Evan nodded. "They changed their plans. They're starting to guess that they have a conspirator in their ranks but no one dares to say it out loud."

The familiar fingers of fear began to snake their way around Marlene's heart. She tried to make her movements nonchalant and she rose from the bed and pulled her dressing gown on. "Do they suspect anyone?"

"Not me, if that's what you're asking," he said with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He dragged a hand across his face and straightened up, resting his back against the headboard. "Everyone's too scared of my dad to suggest it, and my dad still thinks I'm a terrified nine-year-old who doesn't have the balls to go against him."

Marlene crossed around to the other side of the bed and perched on its edge. Evan snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. "I don't want you to keep doing this." Her voice was quiet, tentative, as if they hadn't had this conversation a hundred times before. "Please, Evan. Please just leave them."

He sighed, a sigh that she has heard a hundred times before. "We're not doing this again." Evan slipped out of bed, taking his warmth with him, and began dressing with his back turned.

"I am terrified every moment that you're with them," she said steadily. "It kills me to think that you won't come home."

"And how do you think I feel?" demanded Evan, whirling around. "Every mission you go on, every time you disappear with Dearborn or Black to put your life in danger – how do you think that makes me feel?"

"It's different," said Marlene desperately, although deep down she didn't know why. "I can't stop fighting."

"Neither can I," said Evan.

"I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to fight with us, to join us."

"I am fighting with you!"

"No, you're not!" snapped Marlene, hysteria rising. "You're a Death Eater, you have that damned awful mark on your skin, and everyone knows your name. Everyone fears your name."

"Is that it? My reputation? You want to protect my reputation?"

"I want people to know who you truly are. I want people to know the sacrifice that you're making and I want you to get the credit for all the lives you're saving. Is that so wrong?"

"You want me to get the glory, is that what you're saying? The most important thing isn't that we're saving lives, but that you get to brag about it to your friends?" Evan's glare was fierce. "You Gryffindors are all the bloody same."

Marlene hoped that Evan didn't see the way she had flinched. She rose slowly, the ferocity of his words still ringing in her ears. "That was uncalled for." She wrapped her gown closer to her body and left the room, hurrying barefoot across the wood and closing the door behind her once she was in the bathroom. She didn't want him to see her cry.

She knelt at the edge of the bath and began running the tap, watching as steam rolled off the jet of water. Marlene could feel heat rising to her cheeks but she wasn't sure whether it was from the temperature of her bath or the sting of Evan's words. Shrugging off her robe, she slipped into the water and tried in vain to let the warmth wash off her fears.

After a moment, the floorboard outside the bathroom creaked and she could feel, rather than see, Evan hovering outside the door. "You can come in," she called, her voice thick.

The door creaked open and Evan stepped over the threshold, only half-dressed. He sat with his back against the side of the bath so that Marlene could only see the back of his head. She had to restrain herself from running her damp fingers through his hair.

"If I left them," he said eventually, his voice heavy. "They would not stop until they tore me apart. And to do that they would go through you."

Marlene floated the palms of her hands on the surface of the water, mulling over Evan's words. During their argument in the past, he had merely focused on the fact that a double-agent was far more effective than yet another Order member. "You think they'll come after me."

"The rebellion is costing them," said Evan. "They are fighting from so many directions because of the Order and the Ministry, and because of that their strength is spread out. And we both know that they're still focusing most of their energy on killing Dumbledore." Evan took a deep breath. "If one of their own betrayed them, they would exert every ounce of their energy to try and punish that individual. I couldn't save you."

Marlene scooted down the length of the bath, her movement sending a wave through the water. She snaked her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his shoulder so that they were both staring at the door to the bathroom. "If they find out what you're doing, I couldn't save you either," she said quietly. "And I don't want to live in a world where I can't save you."

Rosier twisted to face her. She brushed her lips against his, her palm resting gently on his face. "You're not the only one with something to lose," he said, catching her hand in his own.

She sighed and pulled back. "I'm never going to win this fight, am I?"

"Not today," he said. The same thing he always said.

Marlene bit her lip to prevent another retort falling out. "I don't have time to change your mind, anyway."

"That's a relief," said Evan, some humour creeping back into his voice. "Where are you going?"

"The Order has changed their plans too." Marlene pulled the plug on the bath and watched for a moment as the water swirled around it like a tornado. When she got to her feet, Evan was waiting for her with a towel. She smiled, allowing herself to be wrapped in it by him, before he lifted her by the waist and set her gently on the ground. "Our leads keep turning out to be wrong and our groups keep getting ambushed. It's almost like – like – " she trailed off, pressing her face into the soft towel.

"Like you have a me in your ranks?" said Evan, speaking the words that Marlene couldn't bring herself to say.

"Well, yes."

Evan stepped back slightly, surveying her. "I've heard rumours."

Marlene's jaw dropped, her heart painfully skipping a beat. "What do you mean?"

He sighed. "They're getting information somehow. I don't know how and no one I've spoken to does either. Not even the inner circle."

A strangled gasp sounded from somewhere deep within Marlene's throat. "How is this possible?"

Evan shook his head. "I don't know."

"Do what you can to find out more?" Even as the words left her mouth, Marlene felt a dagger of guilt pierce her in the chest. How could she demand that Evan keep himself safe, whilst at the same time throwing him deeper into a den of psychopaths to further her own cause?

Evan must have realised how the emotions warred on her face, because he lifted her chin with a gentle touch and made her eyes meet his own. "I will."

"Be careful," she whispered.

"As long as you are," he said with a grim smile. He pulled back his hand and turned towards the sink, grabbing his toothbrush and running it under the tap. "What is the plan?"

Marlene watched his reflection in the mirror, this simple act of normalcy, and unease stirred in her stomach. "We'll be making the selections today instead. We'll be going on foot in broad daylight through the country. No magic. No risk of being tracked."

"And do you know which safe-houses will be protected?"

"Only one," Marlene admitted. "We each only know one in case we're captured." Marlene didn't need to explain what captured meant. "Mine is the Abbotts' house in London." She caught Evan's eye in the mirror's reflection and averted her gaze, unwilling to allow since smothered emotions to come rising up like bile.

"And you're going in groups?" he asked.

"I'm with Caradoc and Dorcas," she said. "The aim is to create as many safe-houses as possible so that the Death Eaters can never know where we'll recoup, so they can't ambush us like they keep on doing."

But it didn't seem as though Evan was listening to the last bit. His hands were gripping the edge of the sink, his knuckles white. "Is Dearborn in love with you?"

Confusion pinched her eyebrows together. "What?" she said, dumbfounded.

"The other night when McDonald was here and I – "

"And you had the good sense to stay hidden, this time," said Marlene with a half-amused smile.

Evan didn't smile back. "She said that he kept asking after you since your last – your last date. And that she couldn't understand why you wouldn't jump at the chance of being with him."

Embarrassment lodged in Marlene's throat. "It's not – it wasn't a date," she said exasperatedly. "It was after Anthony's death and Anthony was his best friend."

"Does he love you, though?"

"He hardly knows me."

Evan smiled faintly but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair, damp from the bath, behind Marlene's ear. "He might be good for you."

It was like a bucket of ice water had been poured over her, like Evan had thrust his hand into her chest and was throttling her heart. "What – what are you trying to say?"

"I – I'm not. I'm not saying anything." Evan turned his back on her and began to run the tap, dipping his fingers beneath the cold water. He splashed droplets onto his face and leant over the basin, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Good," she said, her voice sharp. "Well I'm going to leave before you lose any more of your mind."

Voices drifted over her, weaving their way around her brain but not quite into it. Her fingertips drummed anxiously onto the table and she stared, with unfocused eyes, across the room filled with people. They were in Mad-Eye's kitchen again, the table surrounded by too many chairs for the space, each chair filled with a member of the Order. And everyone's eyes were trained on her, staring.

"What?" she said blankly.

"You said that you had some information for us," said Mad-Eye gruffly. "Out with it, then."

Marlene stared at the table as she always did when she shared her insider knowledge. She couldn't bear to see anyone's accusing eyes on her. She took a deep breath. "The plan for their next target, they're starting it tonight."

"And how is it you know this?" It was always the same question, but this time it came from Benjy Fenwick. Benjy didn't think much of Marlene, particularly when she started coming to meetings with suspiciously accurate information and no readiness to identify her source. Dorcas was still the only person who knew about Marlene and Evan - unless she had told other people - and even she was reluctant to talk about it. Marlene stared resolutely at Benjy, her lips pressed together, and said nothing. The air was laced with wariness, of unspoken words, of suspicion. But still Marlene said nothing.

"The important thing," said Dorcas slowly. "Is that we have the information. Not how we got it."

"I agree," said Mary. Marlene felt a surge of gratitude for both women, but she didn't want to answer their questioning stares. Not yet.

"That makes it all the more important that we complete today's mission as soon as possible," said Sirius. "And then we'll need to make sure the targets are safe." His eyes lingered for a moment on James and Lily, pain creasing his forehead as his eyes fell on the curve of Lily's stomach, before tearing his gaze away.

"What're we still doing here?" barked Mad-Eye. "Gossiping?"

Everyone jumped to attention as they always did when Mad-Eye cracked the whip. They filed out into the hallway, their buzz of conversation more subdued than normal. To her surprise Marlene saw Peter trailing behind Sirius. He never normally fought and so the sight of him, his head bowed as usual, made her pause. But the thought quickly fled her mind when she saw Caradoc waiting beside the front door. Marlene returned his broad smile as best she could, but it felt restrained.

"Hi," said Caradoc as Marlene drew nearer. He was wrapping a thick scarf around his neck, dressed head-to-toe in Muggle clothing as they had all planned.

"Hi," she said. "Where's Dorcas?"

Caradoc pointed across the hallway to where Dorcas was speaking to Lily and Mary in low, hushed tones. Marlene pulled her eyes away. "So," said Caradoc conversationally. "Where first?"

They had selected homes of Order members at complete random. Afterwards, they had picked a name just as randomly and last night they had told that name which home to protect. They would only tell their group at the last possible minute where they were heading, because otherwise they risked yet another ambush. The Order didn't know how many more of those they could survive.

"Mine's in London," said Marlene.

Caradoc grinned. "Mine too. Who gave you yours?"

"Peter," she said.

"Alright, let's do yours first."

The members of the Order began to leave the house in waves. Marlene watched Sirius kick life into a huge motorcycle whilst Emmeline Vance swung her leg over the vehicle and pulled herself onto the seat, using Sirius' jacket as an anchor. Another group slipped into the seats of a Muggle car, all looking as though they feared it might swallow them up. Mary switched on the engine and the car lumbered noisily down the street.

Marlene's group had decided on public transport. It was lucky that they had Caradoc to teach them how to board a bus – Marlene stared at him like he had lost his mind when he said they would have to jump onto it whilst it was moving – and how to buy a ticket for the underground rail system beneath London using those strange, misshapen coins that Muggles have.

Once they reached central London, Marlene was certain that going on foot had been the best decision. The London crowds swallowed them up and spat them out so that no one could distinguish them if they tried. Everyone was so absorbed in their own worlds that spotting three badly-dressed witches and wizards crossing London Bridge, when surrounded by tourists and city workers and school groups with frenzied children, would be a feat for any Death Eater.

The January air bit into them as they crossed the Bridge. Wordlessly they pulled their jackets closer, nestled their faces into the warmth of their scarves, and clutched their wands more tightly in their pockets. They had taken so many precautions to make sure that this mission went without a hitch – but there was something deep in the pit of Marlene's stomach that made her doubt. She was missing something, she was sure of it.

Jane Abbott and her two-month-old baby lived in a block of flats in a south London only a mile or so south of the River Thames. They had moved from their family home in Godric's Hollow as a means of safety, to try and escape the memories of losing Anthony and of the Death Eaters who broke into their home that terrible night in November. Marlene tried not to think about it too much – if she was to dwell on how Anthony, a father and a husband, could be alive in her place, she would almost certainly lose her nerve.

Office skyscrapers melted into tower blocks and the area morphed from commercial to residential. As they turned the corner onto the road that Marlene had painstakingly memorised, she stopped dead in her tracks. A gasp ripped from her chest and a heavy, sinking feeling of dread filled her lungs like water.

A window was smashed about halfway up the tower block, jagged pieces of glass like teeth still hanging desperately to the frame. And out of the hole in the wall came flames. Hungry, crimson flames that licked frenziedly at the brick, sending spirals of black smoke into the air. And in the air, above the flats, was a cloud so dark that it looked almost to be solid. It looked, if anyone was to stare close enough, like a skull.

Before her brain had even registered the sight, Marlene was running. Her feet were pounding into the concrete and the buildings were blurring beside her. "Marlene!" cried Dorcas from somewhere behind her, but it only took a moment for the rest of her group to notice the fire too. Suddenly they were all running, flying down the road and scattering the crowds as they did so.

The window-frame of the burning apartment was black, as if the fire had been raging for a while and it had already gorged itself on everything inside. But Marlene refused to let the thoughts of hopelessness win, the ones that whispered no one could survive that.

Without even realising it, Marlene had taken her wand out of her pocket and was pointing it directly at the looming door at the front of the tower block. She was ready to blast that thing apart if it meant getting to Jane's flat any quicker. But as she drew closer, the shape of the spell on her lips, a figure stepped in her path. Short, burly, hair-slicked back to reveal more of the skull-like face. And a grin that made Marlene's insides turn to stone.

Travers.

Marlene skidded to a stop only a few feet away from him. She heard Caradoc swear colourfully under his breath as he, too, saw who was waiting. While Marlene could not tear her eyes away from Travers, she could from the way that Dorcas bristled behind her and the way that Caradoc squared his shoulders, that they were surrounded.

"Five," muttered Caradoc under his breath. "There are five of them."

Marlene was acutely aware that, while they squared up to one another, Muggles walked past them as though nothing was amiss. In London, no one knew that anything was amiss until it hit them in their unobservant faces. Travers was dressed in Muggle clothing, a frayed suit that looked too small for his broad shoulders, but that nonetheless allowed him to blend into his surroundings as if he was merely popping home from the office for lunch. She noticed that each Death Eater had a hand stowed in his pocket and a false smile plastered to his face.

"Marlene," said Travers, loudly and clearly, bobbing his head in a half-bow. The sound of her name on his lips made Marlene flinch. "Always a pleasure."

She felt Dorcas and Caradoc turn behind her, positioning themselves in a triangle as they had been taught to do. Just as they did so, two more Death Eaters fell into place until the Order members were truly encircled. One was Lucius Malfoy, the same, white-haired man that Marlene and Caradoc had seen in the Leaky Cauldron with Evan. The other, Marlene recognised with a jolt, was Evan Rosier himself.

Her heart stopped in her chest and she stared, almost recklessly, at his blank face. But it was strange. It was almost as if they had disguised him: his nose was more hooked, his cheeks more sallow, and his hair was peppered with streaks of grey.

Marlene realised, almost as quickly as the thought had first arrived, that she was staring into the unseeing, almost bored eyes of Evan's father.

"You really do have a habit of putting your trust in the wrong people," said Malfoy, his words coming out in a drawl. Caradoc bristled beside her.

"Especially this one," said Travers, his face twisted in sardonic glee. He jabbed his finger in Marlene's direction. "It's always been the same."

Evan was right. The Death Eaters have a spy. But who? And why had they come here, of all places? Why not to the safe house hiding Mad-Eye? Or Lily and James? Why was the address that Marlene had given Evan only that morning the one that had been exposed?

"Where is she?" The undercurrent of venom in Dorcas's voice was unmistakable and somewhat surprising. "Where is Jane? Where is her baby?"

"You're very welcome to have a look," said Travers, stepping aside and gesturing towards the door. "But, and this is just a guess, I'd say it's a bit too late for that. Wouldn't you agree, Rosier?"

"Oh, yes," said Evan's father. "Far too late."

"We just wanted you to know how badly you had failed before we killed you," said Travers in a matter-of-fact way. "And we wanted to finish the job, didn't we?"

"Killing the Mudblood-lover was almost too easy," said Evan's father. "With the wife and the spawn gone, it's a clean sweep."

A sound like a wounded animal came from somewhere to her right. From Caradoc. From Anthony's best friend. She felt him raise his wand arm.

"Not yet," she breathed, and the movement stilled.

Marlene's eyes flicked feverishly between each Death Eater, her mind whirring with reckless plans and unformed escape routes. The fire burned brighter and yet still no Muggle looked up from the pavement below. No screams were heard from inside. No sounds of frenzied footsteps as they ran from the fire. Even in London, that was strange. Then a moment of realisation tore through her.

"Next time, kill us instead of lecturing us," she said through gritted teeth. "Finite Incantatem!"

All of a sudden, the enchantments protecting the building from Muggle view were shattered. Shouts of concern, or fear, erupted from all around them. The witches and wizards suddenly felt themselves jostled from all directions as Muggles formed a fretful crowd beside the door to the building, all pointing at the raging fire on the fourth floor. "Call the fire brigade!" screamed one. "What are you just doing standing there, man? Let us through!" barked another.

In all the commotion, the Death Eaters didn't notice as Caradoc grabbed Marlene's and Dorcas's wrists and pulled them into thin air.