A/N: This chapter is dedicated to reviewer tayluhm94, whose interest and request for a new chapter has spurred on the beginning of this one. May you enjoy it as much as previous chapters!

-C

Emma sat in the Atrium signing some papers to be handed over to other departments. None of it was especially important or secretive, and she liked being out of her office when she could be. Ministry workers and visitors rushed past her on their way to places, and she glanced up at each person who went by, wondering what their story was. Nobody came to the Ministry without a story, and usually an interesting one.

She had just finished the last of her forms when a man sat down across from her, the Death Eater she thought was named Yardley, and her heart began to race. What possible reason did he have to sit there, to look at her? He wasn't even supposed to know who she was.

"You're Emma Norwick, correct?" he asked.

Well, at least he wasn't snooping into her files, if he was using her maiden name. Thank Merlin for small miracles.

"Yes, but I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," she said with a small smile.

He raised his pale eyebrows and said, "Yaxley, Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Not Yardley after all, then, but she hadn't been far off.

"That's a terribly important department these days," she said solemnly. "Of course, I suppose it's usually important, but with how things are."

"Quite," he said.

Emma didn't know what he wanted, but she had a feeling that whatever it was, it didn't spell good things for her future.

"Well, is there something I can do for you, Mr. Yaxley?" she asked. "I'm sure you didn't just stop to chat. I suspect you're a very busy man."

If she just focused on appearing innocent and naïve, not useful, not interesting, not special in any way, then perhaps everything would be alright.

"Dolores wanted me to speak to you," he said, frowning slightly. "She thinks you have…promise."

Emma was supposed to be delight about that sort of thing, young and eager to pleased as she was in the eyes of her employers, so she perked up slightly, trying to tip the corners of her lips into a smile. Hopefully it looked like she was attempting to suppress one.

"Really?" she said softly. "I'm…I…"

Yaxley seemed annoyed, but convinced, and he said, "Don't be too flattered, Miss Norwick. No promotion on the table at the moment. But I think there is a possibility that at some point in the future your department will become…obsolete, and we want to know that you are ambitious enough to head sections that might become relevant. When the time comes."

Her stomach turned as she tried to think of what that would mean. Obviously she needed to stay with the Ministry to continue to be useful to the Order, and she didn't want to get on the bad side of Umbridge or Yaxley.

"I assure you, Mr. Yaxley," Emma said, still trying to look a bit naïve and eager, channeling her inner Percy, "that I am very ambitious and will certainly be open to ways to continue working here at the Ministry…if and whenever such moves should be necessary."

He narrowed his eyes slightly and nodded.

"You are familiar, I think, with Severus Snape," he said softly.

Emma didn't bother hiding her surprise. Of course she was familiar with him, not long out of Hogwarts as she was. But what was he referring to?

"Well, yes, he was my professor."

"Yes," Yaxley said, and as his lips turned to a smirk she realized he had been the one in disguise at the Hog's Head. "Yes he was. You seem like a…sweet kid." The words sounded as if they caused him some level of pain. "Let me just say that I know he's…been paying you attention." Emma tried to school her face to a barely concealed embarrassment and was thrilled when she could feel her cheeks heating up. "Forbidden can be enticing, Miss Norwick, but watch yourself. It often comes with a sting."

He stood, taking his leave of her with polite, stock words of parting and Emma watched him leave.

Although everything was still very vague and nebulous, she had a sense that whatever plans she and others had made, they had just become much more complicated. Her heart pounded as she planned a way to get a message to Severus, to inform him what Yaxley had said, all of it. He was the only person to whom she could give the full report.

She felt, as she packed away her things and left the Ministry, that she was doing something akin to playing with fire, and she needed a bit of expert advice to avoid getting burned. She could hear her heels clicking on the street as she walked quickly, air moving into her wide eyes stinging and drying. She could feel her eyes beginning to water, but it was a minor thought in her mind. She could still hear Yaxley's words as she walked, and two fires seemed to be lit in her stomach. One felt sheer panic. The other was excited, eager almost. Was it wrong for her to enjoy danger this much? If she had known this felt so good, she might have tried out for the Quidditch team, might have joined Fred and George in pranking.

Emma began to pace the flat when she arrived home, her mind racing. She managed to calm herself just enough to send off a coded letter to Severus before she sat down on the kitchen floor, taking deep breaths, clearing her mind, seeing if she could access her Animagus form for something to calm her. She knew it was potentially dangerous to attempt to transform in her present state of mind, so she would simply see if she could access the form mentally, without attempting the transformation.

It was elusive, but she was very close. She could not focus entirely, however, because after a moment the sound of a throat clearing nearby caused her to lose all focus and she opened her eyes, looking up at her husband's confused face.

"Why are you on the floor?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she said, honestly, trying to think of an explanation that wouldn't worry him but wouldn't tell him about her form. "Just…trying meditation."

"Right," he said slowly. He helped her to feet, obviously concerned. "Why are you lying about this?"

Her heart began to race. How was she supposed to wave this off now? He was worried, of course. That was the main source of his pressing her, but he did want to keep pushing, and she had to think of something, because she didn't want him to know her form. She didn't want that burden on him, just in case.

"I think…I think I shouldn't tell you," she said slowly. "Not…not yet."

Fred frowned, obviously concerned.

"Still with the secrets?" he asked, turning away, pain in his voice as he crossed to the window looking out onto the alley. "What happened to us, Emma?"

"Nothing," she said eagerly. "Really, Fred, everything's fine. I know you don't like the secrets, but you know perfectly well that it's the way of things in the Order. Not everybody can share everything they're doing. When you can know, I'll tell you."

He didn't look convinced, and if she were being honest with herself she hoped that by the time everything was over he forgot about most of the questions he had now, because she didn't want to have to explain most of her work for the Order to her husband. The Animagus form, though, she could explain that someday, certainly.

"Love," he said softly, "I feel like I'm losing you some days."

This struck her far more than talk of secrets, talk of missions and the war. She actually felt tears in her eyes as she stepped around to his side and touched the collar of his work shirt with timid hands, hands she thought she had lost long ago. Her fingertips were actually trembling as he looked at her, his own eyes full of pain and questions she could not answer.

"No matter what," she whispered, begging him with her eyes to understand, "no matter what happens you will never, ever lose me, Fred."

Fred just stared at her for a minute, searching her eyes, before nodding slowly and taking her hand. He kissed the tips of each finger before leading her into their bedroom, expression unchanged. She had barely closed the door when he pressed her back against it, kissing her eagerly, hungrily, desperately.

How long had it been since they last kissed like this? Something was always on one of their minds, always distracting them from the moment, from each other. But all Emma could think as he kissed his way down her neck, his fingers fiddling with the front of her robes, was how badly she needed him.

She stepped out of her unfastened robes and pushed Fred backward toward the end of their bed. He was pulling at the buttons of his own shirt as they kissed, yanking the fabric away from his torso, tossing it carelessly aside. He shimmied out of his trousers and she crawled onto the bed, not needing to look over her shoulder to know that his eyes were glued to her body. He crawled after her as soon as he was naked, holding her hips to make her stop her movement away from him.

Neither of them said a word. Neither of them dared. The motions were not new, but they did not feel familiar. Every touch was like a fire in Emma's belly, and the feel of his warm skin on her skin as they found a delicious friction was something she had forgotten she had missed. Her fingers tangled in his silky hair as they kissed, and she could feel his muscles as they did their work.

When the two of them collapsed together in their sheets, too tender and spent to move, Emma closed her eyes, feeling the cool of the pillow behind her head. She tried to calm her breath, her pounding heart, as Fred placed lazy kisses on her collarbone. Both were still to afraid to speak, to ruin the beautiful moment, but Emma's mind was already tracing through all the things she would have to do when they finally got up, showered, went about their day. Would she have to write to Dumbledore? Would she have to reevaluate her latest communiqués from Umbridge? So many things to consider, so many things to do.

Fred was right, things had changed. Both of them had changed.

But unlike Fred, Emma didn't feel that anything had necessarily been lost. They were out of the honeymoon phase, out of their infancy, and they were forced to look at the world without rose tinted spectacles. Perhaps in a different time she would have seen that as a loss, but knowing that it was their best chance to make it through the war alive, she had a hard time seeing it with such a negative view. She wanted to see the world around her as what it was, and take the consequences that brought.

"I love you," Fred finally whispered, breaking the spell silence had brought over them, and Emma shifted, looking at him, smiling slightly.

"I love you, too, darling," she whispered, kissing his nose. "C'mon, let's get dinner going, okay?"

He groaned, but he agreed, and he even said she should shower first, and Emma watched him pull on his clothes and go out to the kitchen with a feeling of melancholy coming over. But nothing lasts forever, she reminded herself, and she pulled herself off of their sheets, shaking her head to jostle it back into the present, focusing on one thing at a time, one day at a time.

The next day, they had an Order meeting, full compliment. Emma sat between Fred and George, not looking down the table at Severus, not looking up the table to where Remus should have been sitting, not letting herself glance at Tonks, who was still in a state. Fred held Emma's hand under the table and she blinked up at Dumbledore, who was letting them all settle in before speaking.

"Thank you," he finally said, his voice tired. Emma could see just a bit of his black, withered fingers peaking from the end of his sleeve. She frowned, wondering if she would ever know what happened to them. "Now, let us begin with the Muggles, Kingsley."

Emma tried to listen to Kingsley's smooth, calming voice, but she was lost in the rhythm of his words, her mind on the note Severus had sent her, asking her to stay behind after the meeting for a brief word. A word with him, or a word with him and Dumbledore? Or Mad-Eye? What would she tell Fred? She still didn't have any idea what to do about sticking around.

"Excellent," Albus said softly. "Excellent, Kingsley." She jolted slightly, looking around at the relieved faces surrounding her. Good news, whatever it was. She almost wished she'd been paying attention; good news was so hard to come by these days. "Tonks, the Auror office."

It was easier to focus on Tonks's words, if only because her tone was so strained and unlike herself that Emma listened to every inflection, looking for clues on Tonks's state of mind. It couldn't be easy, not knowing where Remus was, or if he was safe, but Emma knew that wherever he was, he was probably thinking the same things about Tonks.

"We're stretched beyond our means, still," Tonks said, a bit bitterly. "It was one thing for Fudge to underfund us, desperate as he was to believe that the war wasn't happening, but Scrimgeour knows better, and he came out of our office."

"But they can't hire just anybody," Lee said reasonably. "I mean, I know it's more than being undermanned, but one of the big problems is being undermanned. And the Aurors can't just hire because they need more people. They need to pass stringent exams. This isn't the time to lax on that as far as I'm concerned."

"Fair enough," Tonks said with a nod. "But the problem is, I happen to know of several people who passed the tests but were turned down from the department."

Mad-Eye sat forward at this, frowning.

"What do you mean?"

"Muggle-borns," Tonks clarified. "I know they passed the tests. I administered two of them, Dawlish administered the rest. Dawlish doesn't know why they were turned down, but I think it came straight from the head of Magical Law Enforcement. He's been dipping his hands into the Auror Office a lot lately."

Emma stiffened, recalling what Yaxley had said about her department not being there in future. And if he was keeping Muggle-borns from joining the Auror Office…

The meeting droned on, and Albus cleared his throat.

"One last thing. Emma, Alastor, Severus, I need to speak with you before you go, privately." Fred tightened his hold on Emma's hand, obviously not wanting to leave without her, and Albus smiled, knowing. "Don't worry, Fred, she will be home safe in a matter of minutes."

Fred did not seem so sure of this, but he kissed the corner of her mouth and gave her a look that said quite plainly that he expected her soon. Emma watched the rest of the Order file out of Sirius's kitchen and she shifted in her seat, not looking at the three men at the table with her.

"Yaxley," Albus said softly. "He seems to be at the root of all our problems."

"I know little of his mission," Severus said coldly. "He and Lestrange have been following me, for Bellatrix. And Yaxley's job at the Ministry has to do with Muggle-borns, and a man named Pius Thicknesse."

Emma jumped slightly, looking up at them.

"Thicknesse," she said, "is a mid-level politician. Harmless, a bit squeamish, very wishy-washy. Perfect for jumping on any bandwagon he thinks will get him public and political favor."

Mad-Eye snorted and said, "I recall the man. He was just getting started at the end of the first war. Very ambitious, but you don't think that would entice him to join the Death Eaters, do you?"

"I do not think he has," Severus said slowly.

"No," Emma said, shaking her head, frowning at Severus. "No, I think he's being controlled."

"Imperius," Severus said, nodding.

"A puppet," Albus said solemnly. "I see. Well, we will consider that for when the time arises. What concerns me most is Yaxley's interest in Emma."

Yes, this bothered Emma as well, and she shifted slightly, not speaking, barely breathing. The men considered her for a long, tense moment. Then Mad-Eye said, "She has been duly vigilant. I trust I need not remind you, Norwick, that this vigilance must continue?"

"No, sir," she breathed.

There was a brief discussion of the pros and cons of Emma's being noticed by someone of moderate importance, both to the Death Eaters and in the Ministry. When they were dismissed, Severus lingered in the kitchen, and Emma took this as a hint that she should as well. As soon as they were alone, he said softly, "He was the man in the pub."

Emma said nothing for a moment, wondering if Yaxley's interest in getting her in a department with him was less about utilizing someone he thought was ambitious enough to stay loyal and more about trying to manipulate someone he thought was having an affair with Snape. And what if it were the latter? What would that meant for her life, her career, her marriage?

"What do I do?" she finally asked.

"For the moment, nothing," Snape said softly. "When I know more of his intentions, I can make plans. I will inform you." She nodded and stood to go, but he said her name as she reached the bottom of the stairs and she turned to see him staring down at the table as he said, "I apologize. I had not foreseen this."

She wanted to tell him that it wasn't his fault, that it was fine, but it wasn't fine and it was his fault and she knew he would simply despise such empty words. So she walked away without a word.