Chapter 2

No one ever expects Death Eaters to meet at 8 a.m. in the morning. This was partly why they did it. Everyone imagines them meeting in an old cemetery at the stroke of midnight in black robes and hideous masks. Indeed, many of the meetings were much like this. Mostly the ones designed to impress new recruits or the ones that were meant to be inspirational.

But just as many meetings took place at a reasonable time of day and a reasonable place. This particular meeting found most of the Dark Lord's inner circle minus the Dark Lord himself seated around a large circular table. The Dark Lord did not attend every meeting of the Death Eaters, but Severus had no doubt that he had eyes and ears here.

The assembled Death Eaters could have easily been gentlemanly wizards attending a society party. For the most part they wore smart dress robes, but had dark circles under their eyes. Severus had to refrain from smirking to himself. If he had his guess, he would say that more than half the wizards here would rather attend a midnight meeting. Most of the Death Eaters were young and rich – not a combination that inclined one to rise with the sun. Severus himself rarely slept past 7 a.m.

Old Avery seemed to be mostly running the meeting. Running his finger down the list of names, asking about progress on assignments, looking down his nose sternly when he didn't get the answers that he wanted. It was all very dull, but Severus paid attention when some of the others' attention wandered – which was just another reason why he would make Dumbledore an excellent spy, he told himself.

"There's a field mission," Avery was saying. A "field mission" almost always meant murder, Severus had learned. "Shouldn't take more than two people. That Eagan bitch that we killed a few months back had a father. He's a muggle, of course, her being a mudblood, but he knew about magic and has been making a nuisance of himself in some of the papers." Severus tapped his fingers on the table impatiently, but softly enough that no one heard him. "I want to deal with this one myself, but I'll need someone else. Bellatrix, what about you?"

Bellatrix gave a nasty smile. "I'm afraid I'm still clearing up loose ends from the Pullman mission." Severus wondered, with a queasy feeling what "clearing up the loose ends" meant. "What about Snape?"

Severus' head jerked around sharply. He was usually able to get out of field missions. He was the best potions master that the Death Eaters had and spent most of his time brewing. Though, of course, everyone had to do field missions sometimes. He looked at the faces around the table in hopes a spotting some new recruit eager to take on any mission. No such luck. Looked like no one wanted this one.

"I'm not much on field missions," he said.

Bellatrix's smile got even nastier. "Why not? You're a competent dueler, Severus."

Severus longed to show her just how "competent" he was, but managed to keep his temper. "I always end up thinking of all the brewing I could be doing. And how much more good to our cause it would be than my prancing all over London in dark robes and a mask."

Bellatrix flushed. "That 'prancing', as you call it is very important work for the Dark Lord. Without it, we would be nothing. Can you say the same for your potions? There is almost always an alternative to a potion."

Severus' heart fell. If Bellatrix goaded him into it in front of all these Death Eaters, he may have no choice but to go. An old man, a muggle – defenseless. "Anyone can manage a field mission," Severus said, surprised at how smooth his voice sounded. "Send some idiot with no other skill to speak of – they'd do just as well as I. Not anyone can brew a potion."

Bellatrix's eyes flared. Perhaps he should not have been so insulting. Bellatrix was a dangerous woman to anger. "You think --"

But Lucius Malfoy interrupted her, his voice calm and even. "The Dark Lord uses us all for our own talents," he said. He turned to Bellatrix. "Something that you'd do well to remember, Bella."

She shrugged, nonchalant. "I only thought that perhaps Snape doesn't have the stomach." She smirked at him and he had to restrain himself from smiling sarcastically back.

Lucius shot a sidelong look at Severus. "He's been on field missions before. Obviously he must have the stomach. Besides, his potions have probably killed more people than most Death Eaters can claim."

Severus winced. He didn't like to think of this – it was so much easier not to think of it when he wasn't there to see for himself. He only hoped that the others would remember the potions the succeeded and pay no heed to the increasing number that failed.

Lucius went on; "If he has a desire not to go on the more … unsavory missions, well, what of it? The Dark Lord knows that we all have areas of strength and areas of weakness. He does well to use Severus for his strengths."

Severus smiled, suddenly confident again. The lines that Lucius had just repeated were what the Dark Lord said to potential recruits. He could be charming when he wanted to be. Tell a seventeen-year-old that he was special and talented and he'd be yours in an instant. Everyone who had been in the Death Eaters for more than a week knew that the Dark Lord sent his minions wherever he wanted and that it wasn't always based on "strengths and weaknesses". But Bellatrix would never admit this. It might make the Dark Lord seem insincere and if there was one person who was fanatically devoted to the man and the cause, it was Bellatrix Lestrange.

Bellatrix answered back, of course, but the mission was given to someone else. Severus was off the hook. Again. But he knew that it could not always be – what would happen when he became a spy? He doubted that Dumbledore and his precious little Order would want him murdering innocent people because he had to kill a certain number to save face.

When the meeting was over and Death Eaters began to file out of the room, Severus approached Lucius. Lucius Malfoy was smart – he liked to help people, even some whom few others liked or respected. But he also liked to be thanked. And someday soon, he would ask Severus for a favor. It might be as simple as a headache potion for his wife or as complex as a dangerous mission, but Severus knew that Lucius would look at him with raised eyebrows and that he would be expected to remember this day.

"I … appreciate your support," he in a quiet tone.

Lucius gave him the slightest of smiles and made a small dismissive gesture. "It was nothing. Bella can be a bit too intense at times."

"Just a bit," Severus said, dryly.

Lucius looked at him for a long time, his face thoughtful. "We all must do whatever we can in the service of the cause, of course," he said. "But relishing tasks that are obviously … distasteful is classless. But you understand me, don't you Severus?"

"Yes, of course," Severus said. Short, agreeing answers were best with Lucius.

"Excellent," Lucius flipped his long blond hair back, satisfied. He had made his contact. Every time Severus talked to Lucius, he felt a twinge of jealousy. The man was so flawlessly elegant, so carelessly charismatic that he made Severus wish that he could perfect that sort of air. Might as well wish to be as powerful as Dumbledore or as handsome as Sirius Black. People like Lucius were born, not made.

When he was done, Severus Apparated back to his home. It was still early – not even ten yet. He still had lots of time to brew potions or to study or perhaps gather herbs from the garden. He stopped as he walked into his dingy little kitchen. There was a small brown owl perched on his table with a letter in its beak.

Severus looked around as if he expected to see the sender sitting in his kitchen. Death Eaters didn't use owl post, at least not for business, and it wasn't as though Severus had a lot of other friends. He took the letter and opened it. It was from Lily.

Severus felt the strange shortness of breath that he associated with seeing Lily or hearing her name. They hadn't spoken since that night – that awful night when she had pitied him. The letter was short. Was it because she thought that things would still be odd between them or was she afraid of the letter being intercepted by Death Eaters?

Meet me at the old place at noon.

Lily.

Severus sighed and crumpled up the note. Then, thinking twice, he cast Incendioand watched it burn. No one but them would know what she meant by "the old place", but Death Eaters would be none to pleased to learn that he was still in contact with Lily Evans. Lily Potter, he reminded himself, irritably.

It was almost noon. Severus went into his room, put on muggle trousers and a shirt and then left the house. He looked around anxiously as he left – being a Death Eater had made him fidgety. As he walked down the street, he reflected that he could have Apparated. But to do so seemed odd when he had walked this way so many times and it wasn't far.

The little playground hadn't changed much. The swings had grown rusty and creaked in the wind and in the more disused corners, weeds threatened to overtake the children's play areas. Clearly, it wasn't kept up as it should be – not surprising in this neighborhood. He recalled that as a child Lily had been able to swing higher than the other children, but even Severus' accidental magic had been more discreet. When they came later, as teenagers, they had sat barely moving in the swings kicking up dust and talking of Hogwarts in low voices.

There were no children at the playground at the moment, despite it being early afternoon. The weather was bad – unseasonably cold and the sky threatened rain. Indeed, as Severus turned his face up he felt the first small splash on his cheek. Standing near the swings was a short figure. The figure's back was to Severus and the hood of their coat turned up, but Severus saw a strand of curly red hair escape and blow in the wind. Strange how a glimpse of even her hair could make something in his heart clinch. There were times when Severus thought that he couldn't feel anything – at least not like other people felt things. Those were not the times when he was with Lily.

"Hello," he said and she turned.

"Severus," her face was unusually guarded.

Severus drew himself up, suddenly haughty. He would not be pitied by her. Neither would he be despised. If anything, he would despise her before she could despise him. He schooled his face into a suspicious expression with a trace of a sneer.

"Well," he said when, after a moment she still hadn't spoken, "you called me here."

She sighed. "Yes, Severus, I did. Dumbledore has agreed to meet with you."

Severus drew in his breath. "He has? He has agreed to let me spy for him then?"

Lily shook her head. "Not exactly. He wants to speak with you first. To be sure of your motives."

The momentary elation he had felt vanished quickly. It galled him that he would have to somehow prove himself to Dumbledore or that he wouldn't be trusted, though he knew it was wise. He had given Dumbledore no reason to trust him. "When do we meet him?" he asked.

Lily sighed. "We don't, Severus. You are to meet with him this afternoon. I have a doctor's appointment."

"A doctor's appointment?" he asked, trying to keep the panic from his voice. If Lily didn't come, the meeting would likely be a disaster. Severus would say something rude or snide before realizing it and he wouldn't be able to find the right words to apologize. He had never been good with people. But Lily was. "Are you sick?" he asked.

Lily crossed her arms. "No. Just a follow-up. But I need to be there."

Severus was suddenly angry. How could she do this to him? Why wouldn't she support him now, when he needed it the most? "I suppose that now we've slept together that you just don't give a damn."

Lily's face turned an ugly shade of red and he regretted insulting her. "I don't owe you an explanation," she said. "Not everything is about you, Severus." Her face took on a far off look. "I have more important things to think of right now."

That stung. What could be more important than a childhood friend in trouble – at least to a Gryffindor? Then it came to him. Potter. It occurred to Severus that she hadn't even been willing to invite him into her home, though she had been in his. Was that because he was a Death Eater or because of Potter?

"Well then, I guess that there is nothing more to say."

She shook her head, decidedly. "No. There isn't. Goodbye, Severus."

She didn't Apparate, but walked out the hole in the gate. The wind whipped around him. This playground, this vestige of his childhood suddenly seemed the coldest place in the world.

--- -- ---

In the doctor's office, Lily clutched the slip of parchment to her chest. It was a proof of what she had suspected for weeks. She knew that she should be happier. Even though she and James had decided that this was not the best time for a child with the war going on and all, they had always both agreed that they wanted to have a family someday. That someday was coming a little sooner than expected should not be too big a problem.

And yet one thought nagged constantly at the back of her mind, spoiling her joy. Severus. Severus. Severus. Severus.