DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, nor am I affiliated in any way with JK or the Harry Potter franchise.
Chapter 5: Hide and Seek
"I'm so sorry my Lord, it wasn't my fault! How were we supposed to know that she would show up? She's dead! She's dead, oh, please, have mercy!" the surviving Death Eater begged. "Oh, please, please, please!"
"Do not beg at my feet like a dog." Voldmort hissed, disgusted. "You are a Death Eater, you are better then that. Show the proper respect and do not dirty my carpet." All of this he said in a very calm, very deadly voice.
The Death Eater immediately began to bow, sniffing, and rubbing at the carpet all at once. "I am so sorry, my Lord." he said.
"Tell me exactly what happened. How did she find out about our plan?" He asked.
"She tricked us!" the Death Eater replied. "We have a traitor among us! She came to us when we were in the War's End, she had the face of Lady LeStrange, she possessed the Blood Stone, it reacted to her touch! The stone was authenticated, she told us that you had sent her to--"
"Do you take orders from Bellatrix Lestrange?" Voldemort asked, looking down at the shaking man's head.
"No sir, never sir! We take orders only from you, sir!" The man exclaimed.
"Then why would you allow her to accompany you when I told you that she would be remaining here?" Voldemort led.
"She--she had the stone!" the Death Eater exclaimed.
Voldemort clicked his tongue. "I am disappointed in you, Valince, I had such high hopes. The stone is difficult to replicate and difficult to steal, we will look into this. If it turns out that Bellatrix has let hers go astray she will be punished. However, this army is only as strong as it's weakest link. It is only strong if you take orders only from me. If you begin to answer to a hierarchy then there will be chaos. I am the Dark Lord. You should do nothing unless I tell you to. You should not breathe unless I tell you to. You should not eat unless I tell you to. And you should most definitely not let anyone in on plans that I have not explicitly told you to."
"Yes, Lord, oh yes, it will never happen again. I swear on my life's blood. Oh, please, have mercy, Dark Lord." the man begged.
"On your life's blood?" Voldemort repeated. "And what is that worth?" he flicked his wand at the man. "Nothing if I do not value it."
The Death Eater screamed, writing on the floor, blood pouring out from every orifice. He screamed and he screamed until the blood choked his throat and then he only gurgled pathetically before he fell silent altogether, his blood-stained eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling.
"And yet he still ruins your carpets. I do believe you should be more selective when you chose who should follow you." the Heir strolled out into Voldemort's quarters. "At least they should be obedient."
"Indeed." Voldemort studied the Death Eater's face. "It seems like Jacquolyn has lost none of her sway nor her power in her absence. Her name still strikes fear."
"Only your name should strike fear." the Heir interjected.
"You are correct. Tell me, how do you propose that we rectify this mistake?" he looked over at the heir.
"Kill her." the heir replied simply.
"No, I have use of her yet. She is a powerful tool, and a powerful pawn, if only I could control her."
"I think she's made it abundantly clear she would not follow you." the heir pointed out. "She is a danger, she should be eliminated. You are not playing chess, you are playing for keeps. You cannot afford to indulge your fancies."
Voldemort studied the other person for a moment, steepling his fingers. "Perhaps you are correct." he conceded. "Perhaps I have failed thus far because I have given into whim."
"You are human." The heir replied.
The Dark Lord's eyes widened momentarily in anger, but it immediately subsided. If it were any other person he would've killed them immediately. "Perhaps. But I do believe that she will make this all the more interesting." a slow smile crossed his face. "I do enjoy the hunt."
"And she is the stag." the heir replied with a small chuckle. "It's almost poetic, if it weren't so pathetically, well, pathetic. She will fall."
"Yes, she will fall." Voldemort replied.
III
The Burrow was a flurry again. There were people packing, people cleaning, and people just having complete mental breakdowns (mostly Mrs. Weasley). The dead had been returned to their families as though they had never existed. Harry shivered at the simplicity of it all. Would it be so simple if it were Ron or Hermione? If it were him? Would life just keep going? Yes. He thought. We can't afford the time.
Luna had apparently been struck down by Sneekit poisoning despite her precautions and declared herself green. She'd locked herself in Ginny's room and refused to come out. Because she was already packed Mrs. Weasley had let her stay there. Ron, on the other hand, was not so lucky.
"Have you packed all of your things?" Mrs. Weasley was asking Ron.
"Yes, mum." Ron sighed.
"Your clothes?"
"Yes, mum."
"Your socks and underwear?"
"Yes, mum."
"Your books?"
"Yes, mum."
"School things?"
"Honestly, mum, I can do this. And I'm done. Alright?" he asked, obviously annoyed.
"Oh, Ronald, I'm just worried. We might not be able to come home for some time." Mrs. Weasley worried her apron. "Oh, I can't believe we were so dumb to think that he couldn't pass our defenses." she let out a little choking sob. "And those poor people. Oh, oh." she fought tears. "I think that the oven is going." and she turned and ran off towards the kitchen.
"Bloody hell, you'd think that one of us died." Ron whispered.
"They did." Harry replied.
Before Ron could clarify there was a commotion at the door. "Oy, little Ronny, come and give your brother a hug." Charlie voice carried from the door. Ron turned, surprised. "Hey!"
"Charlie!" Ron greeted Charlie excitedly. "How're you?"
"I'm just fine, how's everything? Has Mum gone mad yet?" he asked, his eyes sparkling.
"Just about." Ron rolled his eyes.
"Ah, Harry." Charlie shook his hand. "And always a pleasure."
"Charl?" a woman's voice, heavily accented, came from behind him. "Shall I come or stand here for you to let me by?" her English was alright, but only slightly broken.
"Oh, Nadia." Charlie stepped aside, turning pink.
A rather pretty woman entered. She was about 5 foot 2 with long, wavy dark hair and an olive complexion, large, honey-colored, almond shaped eyes, and full lips. Her hands were rather rough, she obviously was not unused to physical labor, and she had some muscle around her arms. "Ron, Harry, this is Nadia, Nadia Ramon." he introduced them.
"It is nice to meet you." she shook their hands warmly. "I have heard so much about you."
"You work with Charlie in Romania?" Ron asked, looking between the two and trying to figure the connection.
"I do." Nadia replied. "Dragons are a bit of a habit for me." She smiled broadly. "And Charl needs guide."
"Charl?" Ron repeated, looking at his older brother, who blushed under his weather-beaten tan.
"Oh, Charlie!" Mrs. Weasely raced out of the kitchen to embrace her older son. "Thank goodness you're here."
"Looks like I'm just in time." Charlie patted his mother on the back affectionately. "What happened? Was it trolls? A group of savage trolls?"
"Oh, no, the mess." Mrs. Weasley blushed much like her son. "Death Eaters found us, Charley, oh it was horrible. Two people are dead and we have to move!" she covered her mouth and sobbed, burying her face in Charlie's shoulder.
"Oh, mum, I'm sorry." Charlie said uncertainly, looking at Ron and Harry who both nodded accentingly. "Was it anyone I knew?"
"No." Mrs. Weasley wiped her face. "No, they were new, but still...who are you?" she noticed Nadia.
"Oh, mum, this is Nadia. She's our guide in Romania. I invited her to the wedding." he put a hand on Nadia's back, urging her towards his mother. Ron and Harry exchanged a look. That hand was a little more then familiar with her lower back, it was a rather intimate gesture, to be sure.
"It is nice to meet you, Mrs. Weasely." Nadia greeted her. "I have heard much about you from Charlie." she extended a hand.
"Oh tosh." Mrs. Weasley batted the hand aside and pulled the other woman into a tight hug. "It is always nice to meet friends of Charlie's. We see him so infrequently--" she said pointedly, glancing at her son, "it's nice to know he has a family there too."
"Ah yes, Charlie and I are very close." Nadia replied with a smile. "We are all very close, it is not large group that hunts Romanian Dragons." She chuckled. "It is very few who dare. We take care of each other."
"Ah yes, well, I am glad that you and Charlie are close." She looked at Charlie pointedly again.
"Mum..." Charlie complained.
"What, I'm just saying." Mrs. Weasley shrugged. "After all, you and Bill are only a year apart."
"Mum!" Charlie complained.
"It's nice to know that it isn't just me she makes life hell for." Ron said to Harry with a smile.
III
"Oh, I just don't know!" Fleur exclaimed, looking at the flowers on the table. "I theenk the red is very pretty, but do ve want zat sort of red at our wedding? I theenk it looks too--violent, no?" she looked at Bill, who shrugged. "Help me!" she punched him gently. "Ze wedding iz tomorrow, I hardly theenk we have ze time to be without an opinion!"
"I'm sorry, honey, I just have a lot of things on my mind." Bill apologized, looking up at the Flower Arranger who rolled his eyes, Bill gave him a slight smile at his bride's expense. "Do we really want to go through with it tomorrow? We have to move the headquarters..."
"Ve are getting married tomorrow and zat is final!" Fleur exclaimed. "And if you even theenk about trying to talk me out of it..." she narrowed her eyes dangerously.
"Of course." Bill indulged her.
"And my dress, how is my dress?" She asked, looking back at Mrs. Weasley. "Do ve know if it eez done yet?"
"It's perfectly fine, darling." Mrs. Weasley (who looked ready to strangle the younger woman) told her. "We've just gotten it back from the fitters. Everything is all ready."
"And the warding spells?" Bill asked.
"Moody and Remus are out there doing them right now. It should be fine for tomorrow. They figure it'll be safe, since it's about twenty miles in the woods behind the Burrow, but they just want to be safe." she explained.
"Yes, we do not want any Death Eaters to attend." she tittered. Ginny, who sat at the back of the room, made a motion as if to strangle her. She was going to be the cord bearer, the one who brought the binding cords to the Presiding Wizard, and for some reason this apparently meant to Fleur that she needed to be in on all of the preparations. Her head was about to explode. If she had to listen to one more gripe about flowers or the cake or the reception or the dress or her hair or the location she was going to kill her soon to be sister-in-law.
"Everything is going to be fine, dear." Bill told Fleur.
"Of course." she cooed, leaning in for a kiss with Bill. "I am marrying you, what could go wrong?" Ginny felt sick.
"Here, try this." Mrs. Weasley set down a slice of cake in front of Fleur that she'd just finished baking. "Tell me what you think."
"For ze wedding?" Fleur asked, looking up at her.
"Right." Mrs. Weasley told her with a smile.
Fleur took a tentative bite, apparently swirling it around in her mouth like a wine connoisseur before swallowing. "Is very good." she smiled, delighted. "Is very, very good!"
"Uh..." the Flower Arranger said uncertainly, Ginny suppressed a giggle, Mrs. Weasley's eyes got wide, and Bill, well Bill was trying not to laugh either.
"What? What is zo funny?" Fleur asked, red spots covering her face.
"FRED! GEORGE!" Mrs. Weasley bellowed
Fred and George gave each other a high five before turning and bolting.
III
Jack caught him just as he was about to leave. "Mundungeous, right?" She asked, looking down at the small man.
He swept into a low bow. "Mundugeous at your service, my lady." he took her hand and kissed the back of it.
"Lay off the crap, I need help." Jack replied dryly. "And besides--you're not my type." she smiled smugly.
"A lady who speaks plainly, just my type." he grinned. "And a lady wanting to talk business, you are a dream come true. Now what is it you need help with? I have all sorts of things. Magical items, cultic items, tell me, do you know what help a voodoo head could be in your everyday--"
"Can it. I need somewhere to hide someone." Jack interrupted him. "Somewhere completely undetectable. Somewhere that not even Dumbledore, rest his restless soul, could've found. Remmy tells me you're the man with a plan, so tell me: anything in mind?" she cocked an eyebrow.
"I know a few places that not even god could find, my dear. But it'll come at a price." he grinned a snaggle-toothed grin.
"Money isn't an object, just information." she replied darkly.
"You don't have a sister, do you?" Mundugeous grinned more widely.
III
Two months ago...
He didn't know how long he'd been hiding there. His mind hadn't been functioning all that well in the past week. He knew it was because of the stress and because he'd forgotten to take his medicine. But the pain kept him awake. As long as he was in pain, as long as it took real effort to move, then he didn't fall asleep. And he couldn't afford to sleep. Not now. Not with them so close.
He knew they were closing in. His only hope was to become invisible. He wished that he could just sink into the walls, become the house, but he knew that was the delirium from a week without sleep talking.
But they couldn't find him if he were a house.
Shaking his head, he tried to clear his mind. He had to be lucid. He had to be in control. The last time that he'd stood before the Dark Lord he'd been within an inch of letting all of his barriers collapse. Voldemort had almost seen the truth... Sloppy. He thought.
He sat down, his aching back against the wall, he bowed his head, the rank smell of urine and stale cigarettes filled his nose. He wondered how long he'd been here again. Days? Weeks? Maybe he'd always been here. Maybe he was going insane. He could still picture the face of his last victim. How absolutely vulnerable. How weak. How disgustingly weak. A mirror of the killer's own soul. A coward.
He tried to make his legs work, tried to make himself get to his feet. Tried to raise his head, tried to open his eyes--but he couldn't. His whole body seemed to have shut down. For a terrifying moment the killer wondered if he would be trapped inside an immobile body forever until he died of dehydration and starvation. It would be a gift compared to what would come otherwise. He thought darkly.
The sound of footsteps echoed above him. The killer looked up, frantically, forgetting that he couldn't move. His whole body tensed, his first instinct was to run, his second to curl into a ball and disappear into the concrete floor. However, neither his body would perform. So he sat, weak and alone, for his hunters to find him.
The door opened, light poured down into the damp darkness. The killer began to tremble involuntarily. He knew that he didn't have the strength to fight and win against one wizard--let alone two, which, by the sound of the footsteps, there were. "Down here!" one voice called. "There's a room!"
Another man called out something which the killer couldn't make out, and then both were descending into the safety of the killer's hiding place.
In a burst of energy, whether it be brought on from fear or an inner strength, the killer leapt towards the sliding glass door, managing to get it open, but cutting his hand on the broken glass.
The blinding sunlight beyond blinded him. He fell backwards, his head exploding in pain, and he gave a cry. "He's down here!" the first voice called. "Don't move, motherfucker, or we'll blast you!"
But the killer couldn't've moved anyway. When he'd fallen he'd hit his head against the concrete and the sensation of floating consumed his senses. For a moment everything was white and padded. He couldn't move. He couldn't hear.
Hands grabbed him, dragging him back into the darkness and throwing him against the wall. The killer sat, immobile, sinking downwards, blinking furiously. He felt like he was going to be sick.
Tummos and Ludvik leered down at their prey, a little too much wolf in both of their faces. "Well, well, well, what have we here?" Tummos asked, looking over at his partner. "It looks like we've apprehended the infamous Severus Snape." He chuckled. "What does that make us, Ludvik?"
"Big fucking heroes, Tummos." Ludvik replied with a smile.
"Heroes indeed." Tummos smiled. "Pathetic old man, hardly a man." He commented. "What've you got to say for yourself, Sev? C'mon, a man of your status has got to have something to say. Tell us--if you're so smart as to outfool a man like the late, great Albus Dumbledore, how did we find you so easily? Losing your touch, eh'?"
"He's getting on in his years." Ludvik pointed out, sneering. "Hasn't got the fight in him. He's just a sick, broken man."
Snape refused to look up at his captors from his humiliating position on his knees in the dank cellar. He refused to admit that he'd not expected the Aurors to find him so quickly. That he really was losing his touch.
"Maybe he's senile." Tummos suggested. "Forgot he's wanted by the authorities."
"Or maybe he's deaf." Ludvik slammed his fist into Severus' ear. The ex Potions Master went down, hard, hearing his jaw crack at the force of the punch. "You hear us, Snape? We asked if you got anything to say for yourself, you filthy little pissant."
Snape crawled back up to his knees, knowing if he rose anymore then he would be shot down. Ludvik seemed to notice that Severus wasn't as weak as he had looked, and so he flicked his wand at Severus' hands, which magically bound in front of him.
Maybe he was getting old. He was nearly forty, only four more months. Was forty old?
"Maybe cat's got his tongue." Tummos suggested.
"Or snake." Ludvik laughed cruelly at his not-so-witty joke.
"Look, I--hate to be impatient but I really have better things to do then sit here and listen to you two dunderheads prattle on. Are you gong to--take me back to the Ministry or not? Because if my punishment is an endless stream of idiotic, half-witted drivel--then I'd much rather die." Snape managed finally, his old wit flaring up from pure exhaustion, although his words were slightly slurred from the punch to the side of his head.
"Shut up." Snape wasn't sure which one of them had kicked him in the back but it sent him head-first into the concrete of the unfinished basement. His nose cracked on its cold, hard surface and his head hit hard. For a moment everything went white, his brain felt like mush (more so then it already had), but he refused to cry out. "If you don't have anything nice to say--then don't say anything at all." Tummos quipped.
Snape rolled onto his side, spitting out blood, he'd bit his tongue pretty hard and he was aware his nose was bleeding heavily. "Then perhaps the two of you should take your own advice. I'm--pretty sure your superiors are going to want me in one piece." He hated to admit it--he was scared. He didn't want to die. Not here. Not in this god-forsaken muggle dunghole. He had too much he hadn't done yet--and he needed to see this through to the end.
"In one piece?" Tummos asked. "What's the fun in that?"
"I'm sure if we told Tonner that you put up a fight he wouldn't mind if you lost a limb or two. How'd you like that? Why don't we give you a taste of your own medicine? Do to you what you did to Anner or Boyle."
"I didn't kill them." Snape spat out.
"We say you did. And who're they gong to believe? Us--or you?" Ludvik laughed, grabbing a handful of Snape's greasy hair and bringing him back to his knees, looking him right in the face. "You're nothing but a pathetic old man. An evil, pathetic, cowardly old man. I bet you liked killing Dumbledore. I'll bet you got off on seeing the old fart fall. Tumbled right over the tower, he did. Made a good mess on the castle grounds. You know--it took us four hours to find enough of him so we could piece it together for the funeral."
"Shut up." Snape growled. "Shut up, shut up!" He spat into Ludvik's smiling face, a mixture of spittle, dirt, and blood.
Angrily, Ludvik backhanded him. "Animal!" he yelled.
"Doesn't like to hear about the dirty things he's done, does he?" Tummos asked thoughtfully. "Thought you'd be proud to be the man who finally did the old coot in. Powerful wizard, that one. A bit on the frail side, but powerful. Did the Dark Lord a great service. And so I wonder--why is it you aren't with him? Why are you running?"
"Wouldn't you like to know." Snape got back to his knees a third time, his whole body groaning in protest, but he ignored it. He couldn't show weakness. Not now. "But I won't speak to you. I'll only talk to someone in charge, and please, as a courtesy, someone competent."
"Why you little piece of--" Tummos started, but Ludvik caught his arm.
"That's what he wants us to do. He wants to die before he can be interrogated. Doesn't want us to know his dirty little secrets."
"And how about your dirty little secrets," another, unfamiliar, feminine voice came. It was American, and it was powerful "Christov Ludvik." She finished. "You've got a damn fine record, a fine Auror, you are. But--maybe too good." There was the sound of a gun hammer being pulled back.
"Who the hell are you?" Tummos and Ludvik spun, trying to find the source of the voice. "Lumos Maxima!" Tummos cried, a bright light shone from the tip of his wand, illuminating the entire expanse of the cellar, but there was no one but the three of them. "Where are you? Show yourself!"
"Aaron Tummos. A pleasure to finally meet the man who killed Amelia Bones in person. I've heard so much about you."
Snape looked up at his captors in a dazed surprise. They were Death Eaters? No--that wasn't possible. Whoever this woman was--whatever this woman was--she was insane. He knew both of these men by reputation, and they were Aurors. Top of their class.
"I didn't kill Bones." Tummos exclaimed, a hint of panic in his voice. "Whoever you heard that from is a liar."
"Even so, it doesn't erase the fact." Another hammer was pulled back. "Tell me, Mr. Tummos, I bet you don't see many gunshot deaths in your department. Mostly magical deaths. Do you even know what a person looks like who is dieing because there's a bullet lodged in their gut?" a shot went off, ringing through the enclosed space, Ludvik went down with a yell of pain. Blood blossomed from his stomach and he rolled around, still moaning. "You see, the trick of it is--you don't shoot someone in the chest or the head, the chest it's too iffy and the head is too tricky, and if you do it right, too quick. If you really want someone dead you shoot them in the gut. It's effective. It ruptures the stomach and so the acids slowly seep into the bloodstream. And if you're really dead set on killing the victim," another gunshot, Ludvik screamed, a bloodcurdling scream, another bullet entering his abdomen. "You shoot their liver. That's were toxins are stored, those toxins are poisons. And now there's nothing, not magickal nor muggle that can save that man's life. He is, quite literally, poisoning himself to death. Slow, painful, efficient."
"Who are you, you--freak!" Tummos wheeled around, panicked. He started throwing curses; they ricochet off of the walls, Snape ducked to avoid them. Unfortunately Tummos wasn't so lucky. His own killing curse bounced off the opposite wall and hit him dead in the chest. In a flash of green light he fell, like a log, onto the floor, stiff and dead.
The woman clicked her tongue. Ludvik moaned in agony barely conscious.
"Who are you?" Snape demanded. "Have you come to take me too? Some kind of bounty hunter? You want the reward?" he asked.
"Seven million Galleons is tempting." The woman admitted. "But, alas, no." an invisibility cloak was pulled free. The woman that stood beneath was standing on the opposite side of the cellar and, with Tummos' death his Lumos spell had died too. In the gloom Snape couldn't get a good view of her.
She strode across the room to where Ludvik was still clinging to life. Squatting down she looked him dead in the face. "Sorry, sweetheart, but someone had to do something about the two of you."
"You--you--you--" was all that Ludvik could mumble. His wand having rolled out of his hand so he couldn't cast at her. "Can't be--you're dead--can't be--" he drifted off.
"Mmmm." The woman said. "Not so much." And then she stood, pulling out her wand. "Get up." she said harshly, removing the binding spell.
"Who are you?" Snape asked, trying futilely to get to his feet. He slumped back against the wall, his strength draining from him. He felt like he was dying.
"Get up." she demanded, grabbing him by his upper arm and yanking him to his feet. With a strength he didn't realize he still had he grabbed her wrist, spinning her around and slammed her back against the wall. "Lumos." he hissed, Tummos' wand appearing in his hand.
The light shone over her face. It was dead set and unafraid. He balked, stepping back and nearly falling over. "No..." he whispered.
"You're pathetic." she growled. "Look at yourself, what are you planning to do now? Attack me? You could manage a light spell but do you really think that you could kill me?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"You--you're dead." he whispered, his voice shaking. "You can't be..."
She smiled, chuckling cruelly. "Can't be, can I?" she asked. "Look who you're talking to, sweetheart, I've always been a master of the impossible. Do you really think this is so outside the realm of possibilities that it could be categorized as out of the question?"
"You were killed, you disappeared--there was a funeral--" he said, the light his wand emitted faltering. He didn't even have the strength to keep the spell up.
She turned her back on him, obviously not afraid he would attack, and walked over to the far wall, switching on a dusty overhead light. "Did you really think that a measly wizard like Koor could've killed me? Your Master tried to kill me on more then one occasion and he sure as hell couldn't do it." she turned around to face him, her dark eyes flashing dangerously.
Snape collapsed against the wall behind him, shaking his head. "No, you died--they said you died--" he slumped down, not able even to stand anymore.
The woman crossed over to him, conjuring a glass of water. She squatted in front of him and lifted the glass to his lips. "Drink." She told him when the contents dribbled down his chin. He managed to take a gulp before beginning to cough. She pulled the glass away, a look of worry crossing her nearly flawless face. In fact, her only imperfection was a scar across her right eye, other then that she was an Aphrodite incarnate. Almost Amazonian in stature, strong, nearly six feet tall, long, dark hair braided into a hundred small braids, pulled up on the crown of her head. Her eyes were gray, one lighter then the other, a long, straight nose, although it was slightly hooked at the end, full, dark lips, straight jaw, and the rest of her looked as though it were built to kill.
When the ex Potions Master stopped coughing he looked up at her again, his eyes watering. "How?" he demanded.
"Dumbledore." She replied evenly.
"Dumbledore?" Snape asked, confused, his mind swirling, partially because of exhaustion, partially because this was the last person on the face of the planet that he ever thought that he would see again.
"I was too valuable." she told him, forcing him to drink some more water. "When Voldemort disappeared I disappeared." she explained. "You see, he needed someone he could trust. Someone who shared his belief that we hadn't seen the last of His Eminence." Severus gave a start when she used her old nickname for the Dark Lord. "Someone who would make a difference in a final fight against him."
"You..." Severus whispered.
"That's right--me. He wanted a secret weapon. Someone that Voldemort wouldn't expect, someone that could turn the tide if it got to grim. Someone with--no connections." she paused, glancing downwards, a look of pain momentarily crossing her face. "And when you defected..."
"Jacquolyn..." Severus whispered.
"No." she held up her hand. "Listen to me. I know it's immensely difficult to ask you to shut your mouth and listen to someone else for a change, but do your best." she gave him a sharp look. "He approached me--"
"That must've been awkward." Snape interjected coldly.
"Look, do you want my help or would you rather I just leave you down here for whoever else is clever enough to find you?" She asked. Snape held up his hands in mock surrender. "He approached me, explained to me his belief that Voldemort hadn't been destroyed in his attempt on the Potter boy's life. He didn't have much convincing to do, I knew that someone like his Eminence wouldn't be destroyed so easily, and certainly not by the power of love." she spat out the word like poison. "The Ministry wasn't too keen on listening to his ravings. They rather liked the idea that the terror and mayhem were over. They always did have their heads too far up their asses." she shook her head. "So he asked me to place myself in suspended animation. There had been a lot of research into the subject done by one Minerva McGonnigal, and Dumbledore thought that I was the perfect candidate. So they staged my death, which was easy enough, as I'm sure you remember I was always out trying to get myself killed." she smiled mistily. "And they put me under."
"Listen, not that I don't find the story fascinating, but if the culmination is that you are here to apprehend me and take me in for questioning I'd rather skip this part. I appreciate your--assistance with those two, but please..."
"I'm not going to bring you in." She interrupted him.
"You're not?" he asked.
"No, I'm not." She said evenly. "You see, Dumbledore explained to me all about your change of heart once you thought I'd been killed by Koor." she told him. "He woke me up two weeks before you murdered him."
"If he told you about my defection then he must've told you--"
"About the Vow?" She asked him. "I know all about it, Severus. I know that you aren't true to your Master anymore. I know you're Dumbledore's man." she clicked her tongue. "Honestly, Severus, I'd've thought better of you then to have swapped one Master for another."
"I thought you'd been killed." Severus hissed.
"While the idea that I was the reason for your defection is flattering, I hardly think that it excuses the fact that you turned over Lily and James, that you killed for him." she said darkly. "You know--I protected you?"
"Protected me?" he repeated, his eyebrows shooting up. "Protected me from what?"
"I saw your name on the blackout lists two months before I was supposedly killed. You think that I wouldn't know that you'd turned? You never got over what your father did to you. What Black's group did to you. Your only option remaining was to destroy them. If you hadn't--you'd've gone mad." she told him evenly. "I found you, you know. I tracked you down, found where you were hiding, and I protected you. I made sure that the Aurors never found you. Made sure that you were safe. And all the time I knew you were killing for him. I knew you were involved in the massacre at Baton's Burrow, the raid on St. Catherine's, I know you killed Payton and Shavez, Catton, and Sparrow. I knew your handiwork the moment I saw it."
Severus closed his eyes at the list of names. "I didn't want to hurt anyone..."
"Yes you did. You loved hurting people. You turned out to be just like him." She hissed.
He gave a yell and jumped forward, surprising her, knocking her off of her feet and onto the floor beneath him. The wand was in his hand, pointed at her face. "I'm nothing like him." he hissed.
"No?" she asked. "No, maybe you're right. Maybe you were just a soldier. Maybe you do have a conscious. But don't deny that when you killed Payton you didn't feel liberated. All of the things that he did to you when you were in school. And when you turned over James and Lily--when they were killed--"
"You're right." Severus said, his face very close to Jacquolyn's. "Is that what you want to hear? You're right. I liked hurting them. I was young--and I was stupid--and I spent the rest of my life trying to make up for what I did. Doesn't that count for something?" he asked.
"No." She replied. "None of it does. If you think that you're buying your way out of hell--you're wrong. You're going to burn right along side your Master." her eyes gleamed, deadly.
"But you protected me. You knew what I was--and you protected me." Severus pointed out. "Does it kill you? That you paved my way towards their deaths? That your--betrayal at Hogwarts was what turned me?"
"My betrayal at Hogwarts was nothing more then your delusional fantasy. Remus was my friend, my best friend, you just wanted an excuse to go to him--so don't turn this on me." She said slowly.
"Are you trying to convince me--or yourself?" he asked, grabbing her right hand when it strayed towards her dropped wand. "Come on, Jacquolyn, tell me, do you really think that you had nothing to do with what I became?"
"You were his before he came to power, Severus, I only delayed the inevitable." She replied, straining against him, but his dead weight kept her in check. That, and his iron grip on her wrist, and the wand in her face. "Get off of me." she demanded.
"Why?" he asked. "Remind you of old times?"
"You're sick." She hissed.
"And you're a whore." he growled.
They stared at each other for a long time before they kissed. It wasn't clear who kissed who, it was more of a mutual movement, but their lips met and his wand was abandoned, his hands on her face. She wrapped her arms around his abdomen, rolling him onto his back violently. He took a sharp breath when his head hit the concrete, looking up at her. "You know." he accused.
"I know everything, Severus. I know that he ordered you to kill him. I know that he ordered you to remain what seemed like Voldemort's man. I know that without you Voldemort would've won this a long time ago. I know that you've been protecting Potter for all of these years and I know that it killed you to do what you had to do, and I know that you did it." she replied.
"Why did you protect me, sixteen years ago?" he asked.
"Because I never stopped loving you, Severus." She replied, rolling off of him and laying on her back on the dirty floor, their shoulders still touching. "I never will." she looked over at him.
He looked back, they stared for a long time. "You were right." he told her.
"That had to hurt." She said sarcastically.
He gave her a withering look. "You were right about my reasons for joining. It wasn't your fault."
Her hand found his, squeezing it gently. She sat up, remaining next to him, her eyes getting a far-off look in them. "I know." She replied quietly. "But it killed me--for years. I blamed myself. I knew you were a Death Eater before your name showed up on that list, Severus. It was like as soon as Voldemort showed up a voice in my head said 'ah, that's what Severus was waiting for.'" he sat up, studying her profile, but not interrupting. "You know it was almost a sick fascination, tallying your kills. At first I thought that it was just a coincidence when I found Peyton with the Crustecio on him." Severus winced, glancing downwards, unwanted images assaulting his memory. The screams... "It was your crowning achievement in pain. All of your memories, all of the tortures you went through as a child, manifested in a spell. They said that it was Voldemort who created it, but I knew it wasn't him." she shook her head. "I knew it was yours." she glanced over at him.
"I hate that spell." he whispered.
"I know." She replied. "How couldn't you? You had to be thinking about him when you made it." she sighed, looking away. "But it wasn't you that did the Longbottoms, was it?"
"No, that was LeStrange and Crouch." Snape replied quickly.
"I thought so. You reserved the Crustecio for anyone who hurt you in the past. You never even knew the Longbottoms." she sighed, looking downwards, there was a long silence.
"What--" he began.
"I forgive you." She interrupted him.
He froze, staring at her. "What?" he asked.
She looked at him. "I forgive you." she repeated. "It doesn't mean anything--but I still forgive you."
"You're wrong." Severus said slowly. "It means everything." he leaned into her, but she pulled away, standing up.
"Do you think that you can walk?" She asked.
Severus slowly rose to his feet, wincing in pain. "I can manage."
"Good." she looked over at him. "The Vow falls to me." She told him. "I am also the Secret Keeper and the only person in this fucked-up world that knows that you work for the Order." she caught herself almost saying that she was the only one who knew he was innocent, but she couldn't bring herself to use the word. "So don't think that you're free."
Severus looked at her and replied emotionlessly "I'm never free."
She studied him for a moment. "We have to leave. Sooner or later someone's going to come looking for those two--and when they do--it won't be pretty." she looked back at Tummos and Ludvick.
"They were Death Eaters?" Severus asked. "Why were they after me?"
"You're gaining too much power in the eyes of Voldemort's Army. You're the Captain. The Captain always has to deal with a few mutineers." she smiled ironically. "Besides, it's not as though you are winning any popularity contests. There are still some who would doubt your loyalty."
"Bellatrix LeStrange." Severus replied.
"And Bellatrix LeStrange is a very convincing woman." she glanced down at the two dead Death Eaters. "Lets leave, the smell is starting to gnaw at me." she turned her nose up at the sour smell of blood and death.
"Where?" Severus asked. She looked over at him. "Home." she replied.
