It was night before she had the opportunity to leave for Spinner's End. The whole prospect of meeting with him had rattled her nerves; she hadn't been able to sleep the night before and the mere thought of eating repulsed her. It amazed her that the presence of the man she had once found so pleasing now terrified her to her wit's end. Only now did she remember that this was the very same feeling that had prompted her to leave so many years ago. She had forgotten how dreadfully painful it was to be in love; the fifteen long years she was away had dulled the pain considerably, almost to the point of non-existence. But it was all brought back in the single instance that she had laid eyes on him the previous night. She was old and tired now and seriously doubted she could take the strain all over again. But she knew she could not simply vanish. Not this time. She wouldn't be able to withstand the agony she saw reflected in those black eyes and the torture she knew she had caused him. She owed him more than she could ever imagine and the visit she was about to pay him was only the first step in what was bound to be a long and painful process.

Her heart felt like it was pounding its way out of her chest as she knocked on his heavy wooden door. There was the sound of footsteps within before the door came slowly open. He stood before her, draped as usual in a cloak of black, the man she both loved with all her heart and feared with all her being. He said nothing but looked at her with all the intense passion and loathing she'd seen the night before. She tried to smile but knew it must have looked more like a grimace. He smirked in return. It was the same kind of disapproving smile he gave most everyone. "Come in," he said, his voice as calm and silky as ever.

He led her into the living room. "Sit," he said, gesturing to one of the familiar, dusty armchairs. She settled uncomfortably into the stiff seat. He disappeared into the room behind her and came back moments later with two glasses of dark red liquid. Slipping one glass into her hand, he took the seat across from her.

"Thank you," she said quietly. She peered into the cup before taking a sip.

"I had started to think that you were not coming."

"I'm sorry I couldn't come any earlier." She hesitated before adding, "I was detained."

"By what, I wonder," he replied, fixing her with an icy stare.

She sighed and closed her eyes. She knew what answers he was looking for but she was not prepared to give them. He would use questions like these on her all night, a subtle ruse to open her mind to legilimency. She was quite a skilled occlumens but was much too tired to ward him off this night. Setting her glass down, she opened her eyes and leaned in closer. "Severus," she said weakly, "I can't imagine you ever forgiving me. I can't imagine you ever trusting me again." She paused a moment and with difficulty, began again. "I can't imagine I'll ever have the privilege of your companionship again. I can't take back what I did and I can't get back all the years I've been away. All I can do is ask for your forgiveness and hope that you will give it to me. I do not deserve it, but I ask nonetheless."

He studied her for a long time, weighing everything that she said. When at last he spoke, he said, "For years I wondered if you were even alive. Why didn't you let me know you were safe?"

"I wish I could give you that answer."

"Why can't you?" he said through clenched teeth. She remained silent, staring at the floor. Whatever secrets she was harboring, she was not willing to give up. He knew no other as expert as himself at keeping quiet. Hurt as he was that she would not tell him what troubled her so, he knew that any more questions in that direction were pointless. At the least, it eased his mind to hear her plea for forgiveness. It may have been the single most sincere apology he'd ever received. He couldn't say he had forgiven her just yet, but it seemed a load of anxiety that had weighed upon him for years had vanished. He looked at her gently lined face, noticing again the infinite signs of exhaustion that seemed to emanate from her. "You look tired," he said quietly.

"I suppose I've been working harder lately," she said, relieved he'd changed the subject.

He raised an eyebrow. "Work?"

"With the Ministry of Magic. I'm an auror."

He felt a cold chill. This was more terrible than he could have imagined. The Dark Lord was convinced Elegia had been murdered. Deserters were frowned upon but any witch or wizard that betrayed the Dark Lord and fought for the Ministry would be put to death. "Have you been in contact with the Dark Lord?"

She frowned. "Of course not."

"You fool! If any of the other death eaters find out you've come back you'll be murdered! You must see him at once!"

She looked at him, taken aback. "You still consort with the Dark Lord? You're a Hogwarts professor!"

"I have no choice and neither do you!" he snapped. There was a rustling above them followed by footsteps on the stairs. Almost preternaturally Elegia tensed up, her senses working overtime. "Now is not the time to explain," he said more quietly. "I will explain in detail when there are fewer nuisances. I expect you will do the same."

The door to the stairway swung open, revealing the perpetrator to whom the footsteps belonged. Elegia and the rat-faced intruder stared at each other in shock and wonder.

"Peter Pettigrew?" Elegia murmured.

"Elegia Gravis," he muttered in return. "I thought you were murdered years ago!"

"I could say the same for you," she answered.

He smiled, a mouthful of pointed yellow teeth showing. "I knew you were out there."

Clearing his throat, Severus said, "I hate to break up this reunion but Elegia and I have business to attend to."

"I'll join you then," Peter whined.

"This is none of your concern. Go busy yourself with something," Severus snarled.

Unabashedly pouting, he exited the sitting room, dragging his feet on the way. After he'd gone, Elegia looked at Severus questioningly.

"He was found in animagus form a couple of years ago, posing as one of the Weasley's pets. Regrettably, the Dark Lord has placed him in my house for the time being." He paused. "I suppose you know what happened to Sirius Black?"

She nodded gravely. "Between the prison break, the murder, and the ordeal at the ministry…" Her eyes glazed over. In an otherworldly voice, she said, "Someone is coming."

Baffled by her behavior, Severus moved over to the window and looked out. Two figures were rapidly approaching his house. He couldn't mistake the silver-blonde hair glistening in the moon light. There was no doubt that it was Narcissa Malfoy and her wretched sister Bellatrix Lestrange.

"It's Narcissa and Bellatrix," he said, audibly surprised. "You'd better wait upstairs. The less people who know of your return the better." Still somewhat trance-like, she nodded and stood. "Wait in the last room on the left. I will come to you when they are gone."

She heard Severus muttering to Pettigrew not to mention her before there were knocks on the door. She crept quietly the rest of the length of the hall and slipped into the last door on the left as instructed. It was a bedroom, dusty and out of use like most of the rest of the house. She sat on the corner of the bed, folding her hands in her lap.

Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange, she thought. The three of them were once friends. When she'd made the decision to become and auror, she'd promised to swear off all companionships tied to her old life. She'd breached that promise the moment she set foot in this house. She'd longed to see all her old friends since she'd left and wondered if they thought of her. She wondered how they would react if they saw her now. Would they even recognize her? Time, she'd found, could do all sorts of things to a person's memory. It seemed funny to her now that no one had discovered her all these years. She'd been working with the ministry, though in another country. Still, it seemed word would travel.

Now that she was back, she knew she'd have to be more careful. A meeting with the Dark Lord might fix everything and then again, it might only make things worse. She knew he'd be angry but she'd incurred his wrath before. If she could gain his trust again, she could gain everyone's. But she would avoid a meeting if possible. She didn't want to destroy all the trust she'd built with the ministry.

There was a bang in the hallway and a shriek of pain that could have only come from Pettigrew. Startled, she walked out into the hallway to see what had happened. Peter was rubbing his forehead, his beady eyes squinted in pain.

"I would stay in your room if I were you," he said bitterly. As she walked back inside the bedroom, Peter followed. She looked at him uncertainly. She had a feeling things were about to get a little too personal. He drew closer to her and began to whisper. "So here you are after all these years. Where have you been?"

"Hiding. Same as you," she answered simply.

"You're not hiding from the Dark Lord, are you?"

"Of course not. I've come back to reunite with him."

"Why have you been gone so long? Surely you knew he was back ages ago."

She brushed absentmindedly at her forearm, the arm that bore the dark mark that had tarnished her reputation for the past fifteen years. "I was afraid I was going to be let down. I didn't want to act until I was completely sure he was back."

He eyed her suspiciously but continued on in the same manner. "Well, he'll be glad to have you back. He always had a finger on you, I say."

As he began to leave the room, she called out, "Peter? Please don't tell Him or anyone else about my being here. I want to present myself to the Dark Lord before any one else finds out I'm back."

"You have my word," he replied with a toothy yellow smile.

After he was gone, she sighed. His word was as worthless as he was. She had no idea she would be thrown into as big a mess as this. She almost wished she'd never come back; she could still be ghost in the minds of all she knew. Her head aching, she wanted to return home so she could rest. She wondered if the Black sisters were close to leaving. She knew she couldn't leave without warning Severus or things would be worse than they already were.

Quietly, she eased out of the bedroom and down the hallway. Proceeding down the stairs, she listened at the door to see if she heard any voices. "I will," she heard Severus's voice say followed by a wispy noise. A sense of dread was overwhelming her as she gently pushed the door open and put an eye to the crack. There knelt on the ground were Severus and Narcissa, hands clasped with three fiery red links surrounding them. Bellatrix stood behind them, her wand in hand. The Unbreakable Vow had just been performed. Whatever they were, she knew in her heart the promises he'd just made were about to change things for the worse. She gently closed the door shut and sank down against the stairs. Covering her mouth with her hand, she closed her eyes and sobbed soundlessly.