'Till Death Do Us Part

Thanks go to my "terrific trio" of betas: Doug, Al, and Yael. I couldn’t have done it without you!

‘Til Death Do Us Part

by Parker Brown-Nesbit

Chapter 2

Just Call Him the Beast

The reception was still in full swing when Marius decided that they should leave. Damara was reluctant to leave the security of the party (even with suspected Death Eaters there) but agreed in order to keep the peace. She had absolutely no intention of causing a scene. She told Dumbledore and Snape that she was leaving, and Snape pressed a small package into her hand. ‘Consider it a wedding present,’ he whispered. She and Malfoy then Apparated to a place on the edge of his manor lands, where an Aethonon waited to fly them to the manor itself.

The manor house was a fine one, built in the shape of an E. Two wings. Maybe I can have one and Marius the other, and we’ll never have to see each other, Damara thought.

At the door, Marius picked her up and carried her over the threshold. A line of house elves waited just beyond, eager to meet their new mistress.

‘You can put me down now,’ she said, struggling slightly in his arms. Marius looked up, saw the waiting line of house elves, and promptly followed his new wife’s suggestion.

‘I suppose introductions are in order.’ There was the merest hint of exasperation in his voice; he wanted to take his new wife upstairs without delay. He looked at Damara, who was standing patiently by his side, waiting to be introduced. Quickly deducing that she was not going to move until he introduced them, he went through their names. ‘Tiggy will be your personal servant.’

Damara started to protest, ‘but—’, when Tiggy came forward and curtseyed.

‘It is such an honour to serve you, Mistress,’ she squeaked. She looked so happy that the protest died on Damara’s lips. She’d never intentionally hurt a living thing’s feelings, be it being or beast. Still, the idea of having a personal servant irked her. The others added their welcomes and disappeared to leave Damara and Marius alone. He had kept his arms around her while the introductions were taking place, and now he started nuzzling her neck. Damara was resolved to let him, but things never progressed quite that far. A cat-sized animal came out of nowhere and clamped its claws in Marius’s leg.

‘Damn! What is that thing?’

Damara struggled mightily to contain her laughter; it was several minutes before she could respond. ‘Galadriel. Off.’ The animal disengaged herself from Marius’s leg and sat down by her mistress, still keeping a wary eye on Marius. ‘You know what she is, Marius. And before you ask, yes, I have a license for her.’

Marius eyed the kneazle equally warily. ‘Keep it away from me.’

‘She goes where I do,’ Damara said matter-of-factly. ‘If you want her kept away from you, show me to my room, please.’

He fumed inwardly. He knew about kneazles and he suspected that she had brought the thing there to help keep an eye on him. Damn clever bitch. She’ll not get away with it.

‘I’m sorry, Marius. She’s not too keen on people she doesn’t know,’ she gave him a sweet smile and continued, ‘once she’s had time to get to know you she’ll be fine.’ She doubted that would be true, but it wouldn’t hurt to at least soothe his ruffled feathers.

‘As I was saying,’ he went on, ‘the bedroom is this way.’

He led her up a marble staircase to the first floor, and then into his bedroom. It was a very masculine room. The walls were a deep blood red. Heavy tapestries, mostly of men at war, were displayed on two of the walls. An armoire, fashioned of heavy oak, stood on one wall and a desk, fashioned from the same heavy oak, stood on the other. A massive four-poster bed, curtains of blood red to match the walls, stood in the centre of the room, facing a fireplace. The only touch of femininity in the entire room was an oriental carpet, obviously very old and expensive, which was placed in front of the bed nearest the fireplace. The room generated an aura of great power and oppression. Damara had to admit that it was all very tastefully done. It was just a bit overwhelming. She stood near the doorway, hesitant to enter. If I go in, that means…why did I think I could do this? What possessed me to marry a man I loathe just to get information?

He, however, was pouring wine. He went over to her, took her by the hand, and brought her nearer the bed.

‘Wine? I promise, it’s perfectly safe,’ he asked, and when she nodded, poured her a glass as well. He handed it to her and waited smugly for her reaction.

‘Mmm. This is delicious.’ She smiled at him over her glass; the first smile she’d given him since this whole charade had started. ‘What is it?’

‘Chateau Malfoy, 1978. It comes from our own vineyards in France.’

She shot him a look that clearly said, "You’re lying."

‘Well, cousins, actually,’ he admitted. ‘Now, please do something with that animal, and….’

‘Show me my room, then. I’ll put her there for tonight. But Marius, you might as well get used to the idea that where I am, she will be.’

He showed her to a room across from his, decorated in blue. ‘She can stay here,’ he said. And so can you, until I require your body for my need.

‘Stay, Galadriel.’ It’s just for a while, girl. Until I do my duty as his wife.

She shut the door on the kneazle and followed her husband back into his room.

‘Finish your wine, Damara.’ It was an order, albeit given gently, and she complied, quickly draining the glass. He kept an eye on her, and when she’d finished the wine, he took her into his arms and kissed her. She didn’t resist at first. He began softly, gently, but it soon became a kiss of power. There was no passion, no feeling of love, nothing but Marius wanting her to bend to his will.

She broke off the kiss and stepped back, eyes blazing.

‘No, Marius. Not that way. I’m your wife, not your bloody conquest.’ She turned to leave the room, her resolve to do her duty all but gone.

‘Wait—I’m sorry.’ Remember what Lucius told you. Win her over with love. He took her gently by the shoulder and turned her to face him. ‘It’s just that I remember that kiss when I was seventeen and you were fourteen, and I—, ‘ he kissed her again; this time starting soft and slow, then harder as his passion grew. He picked her up and carried her to the bed where he proceeded to unfasten the clasp on her belt, and throw the belt to the floor. He then started on her robes, ripping them in his hurry to get them off. He stripped off his own robes, and pushed her onto the bed.

Damara stifled her screams as he pushed into her, hard. Think of something else, anything else. Severus. What have I got myself into? Gods, I wish you were here, Severus. Gods…

After it was over, she lay huddled in the bedclothes, pretending to be asleep. She held back the urge she had to slap him; it wouldn’t do for him to know that he had hurt her, mentally as well as physically. She heard him leave the room. Cautiously she got up and found the bathroom, where she proceeded to be violently ill. She ran herself a bath, washed the vestiges of her humiliation off, and went to the bedroom where Galadriel waited patiently for her. Tiggy had turned down the covers for her. Thankfully, she climbed into bed. She soon fell asleep and didn’t hear Marius go downstairs a few minutes before midnight.

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Marius sat in his study, nursing an Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey and smiling to himself. He had followed Lucius’s suggestion to the letter: be nice, loving, and generous; all those things he didn’t feel for the woman who was now his wife. He had done his best to be gentle with her. He wanted her to trust him, to confide in him, and when she did, then he would hand her over to his master. He would seal the bargain in the morning. Maybe give her flowers. No, that was too common. A Winged Horse. That would do it. He would give her her choice of mounts from the stables.

The knock on the door was soft, but he heard it. He checked the clock on the mantel. Midnight. They were punctual. Tabby, his personal house elf, answered the knock and ushered the two men into the study.

‘Keep your voices down. Damara is upstairs,’ he said to them, even though he knew the walls of the house were thick and she was most likely asleep. ‘Whiskey?’

They both assented. Marius poured the drinks and handed them to his guests.

‘We’ll talk in the dungeons.’ They followed him down a set of stairs and into a cavernous room. A table and chairs stood in the centre. There was no other furniture.

‘Incendiarum,’ Marius said, and the candles in their brackets burned brightly. ‘Now, let’s get down to business, shall we? I’d like to return to my wife.’ They all took seats around the table.

‘Who has been chosen?’ Lucius Malfoy asked the other two.

‘The Turners.’ Snape answered. They were an old family, and Prometheus Turner himself had taught Alastor Moody to be an Auror.

‘When is it to be?’ Marius chimed in.

‘Tomorrow night,’ Snape answered again.

He hated this, but he had to let some killings go ahead, so they wouldn’t suspect him.

‘Who is doing the job?’ Lucius again.

‘Avery, Rosier, and Wilkes,’ Snape answered yet again. He would pass this information on to Damara in a few hours. Maybe she would catch at least one of them at the scene.

Marius asked, ‘Do they know?’

‘We thought it would be best not to tell them until tomorrow—today, that is.’ Snape was in the inner circle and had Voldemort’s ear. ‘That way, they will be less likely to botch things up. I am to be with them, to ensure that doesn’t happen.’

That satisfied the other two. Under Snape’s watchful eye, there was little that could go wrong.

Lucius and Snape left shortly after they had come. The entire meeting had lasted only about thirty minutes.

Snape paused at the stairway leading upstairs. He had deliberately blocked all thoughts of her from his mind until now. She’s up there, sleeping. If I just peeked in… Malfoy would kill me. I hope he didn’t… If he did, I’ll kill him. He left quickly, before he had a chance to act on his thoughts.

##########################

Half an hour to plan a death, a murder. Only a few years ago, I would have looked forward to, enjoyed the camaraderie in the planning--though not the killing. But that was before Lucina was killed. And before the child… Now, these people are as strangers to me. I don’t see myself when I look at them; there is no sense of belonging, the way there was then. Severus was sitting in the main room of his small cottage in Hogsmeade once again plagued with insomnia. He was thinking back to his days as a Death Eater. He had joined them in his sixth year at Hogwarts when his father had deemed him ready to join Voldemort. There was a sense of belonging in that group, a feeling he’d never quite had before. His reputation for knowing more curses and hexes than others of his age—most of them designed to leave one badly hurt until they had worn off—had preceded him. His very first killing gave him a feeling of such power like he had never known—to hold someone’s life in one’s hands made him feel important. He’d felt differently after the killing had been done, though, as if it was his life that had somehow been cheapened by the very act of killing. Torturing people was something he was good at; he’d had enough years of practise at the hands of his father to know exactly how to extract information and deliver the utmost pain. He hadn’t really enjoyed that either; every time he tortured someone, he had a vivid mental image of himself at the mercy of his father, and whatever punishment he decided to mete out. Voldemort had used this talent as well as his skill for potions making. He was a master at making Veritaserum and poisons that left no trace in the body and Voldemort had played to his talent. He had risen quickly in the organisation and soon found himself in Voldemort’s inner circle, along with Lucius and Marius Malfoy. The thought sickened him now. He might still be a Death Eater, continuing to do Voldemort’s bidding, had it not been for Lucina. He had kept in close contact with her during her courtship and marriage to Malfoy. In fact, he had been all for the marriage (that was before he’d known what Malfoy was like) which twined two old wizarding families together. Lucina’s experiences had changed all that. She had fancied herself a spy (unfortunately, she was not) and Malfoy had caught her at it. She’d been delivered to Voldemort and in short order tortured and killed. Not that he’d known that at the time. He’d known that Malfoy abused her, but he never thought he’d hand her over to Voldemort. Her death was just one reason that he’d allowed himself to be captured. The last time he’d killed was another. Capture was his only way out of the ever-widening spiral of destruction that consumed him.

He had just killed a child. The look of horror on the boy’s face as he said ‘Avada Kedavra’ haunted him. He had never had to kill a child before. He stumbled outside, murmured ‘Morsmorde’, and the Dark Mark shot into the sky. He made his way to the garden—why couldn’t he see any clearer? First, the retching, then he tasted something else, something bitter. He heard voices, but he seemed unable to move. A pair of hands, rough on his shoulder, yanking him away from the scene. He had no idea where they’d taken him. As his eyes focused, he saw Alastor Moody sitting across from him. The man terrified him. He couldn’t get his mind to work well enough to answer questions. The next thing he was conscious of was a woman sitting across from him. As his mind cleared, he realised that she was Damara Sutherland. They’d gone to school together, which seemed a lifetime ago, now. He remembered her from the morgue too. ‘Can I get you anything?’ her voice was soft, warm, friendly. He shook his head in reply, still in too much shock to speak. She had waited patiently, giving him time to decide that he really wanted her to have the information he held. The next moment, it seemed, he was spilling it all out. Names, dates, times, places. How the Death Eaters killed. Everything. She’d told him to wait there, went somewhere, and in short order had returned. The next morning, he’d had the fateful meeting with the Headmaster. And turned spy.

The sun was coming up as he got out some parchment and a quill. He wrote Damara a note, noting names and times. The Headmaster had warned him to put all correspondence in code. He called Merlin to him, tied the note onto the raven’s leg and sent it off. He fell into bed, exhausted at last.

#########################################

Damara woke to the sound of scratching on her window. She got out of bed, went over to the window, raised it and let the raven in. It landed on the dressing table, stuck its leg out, and waited for her to take the message. Then, with a quick nip of her finger, he flew away. She opened the parchment, read it, and spun around in joy. She also remembered the package Severus had given her the night before. She opened it and read the message enclosed. The card read, "Just in case you need it." It was signed with his initials. She looked at the phial itself. In Severus’s neat handwriting, the label read "sleeping potion." Smiling to herself, she put the phial away in a drawer. Already, a plan was forming in her mind. Glancing at her watch, she realised she would be late for work if she wasn’t careful. Hurredly, she dressed for work and went downstairs, where breakfast awaited her.

Marius was already at table, finishing his breakfast of blood pudding and eggs. He looked up as she entered.

‘Good morning, I trust you slept well?’ his voice was gentle, something she wasn’t accustomed to. It unnerved her.

‘Yes, very, thank you. And you?’ she poured coffee for herself; looked over at his cup, saw that the tea in it was nearly gone. ‘More tea?’

‘Yes, please. Damara, I have a wedding gift for you. One I think you’ll like.’

She looked at him much like Galadriel had the night before.

‘I mean it. After work, please come to the stables—any of the elves will show you—and take your pick of mounts.’

How did he know I love to ride? She thought. Does he know my background as I know his? ‘Thank you very much,’ she smiled at him, but in the back of her mind she knew it was a trap.

#################################################

Alastor Moody accosted her through the open door of his office as she walked down the hallway to her own. ‘Sutherland! I mean Malfoy!’ he managed to sound fierce and warm at the same time somehow. She stopped at the doorway and stood there grinning at him. ‘ Don’t just stand there, girl. Come in and sit down.’

She complied and when she had made herself comfortable, he asked, ‘One of your spies found out something then?’

‘Yes. It’s planned for tonight. Avery, Wilkes, and Rosier are to do the killing. With any luck we’ll be able-‘

‘Who is it?’

‘The Turners.’ Seeing his look of dismay, she added, ’I know, Alastor. Prometheus was one of the best Aurors around. It seems that they’re targeting anyone whom they perceive as a threat. Even the ones who’ve retired.

‘What did Snape tell you? I assume it was Snape? I want details.’

She proceeded to fill him in on the details of the planned killing. When she was finished, she asked, ‘What time shall I meet you, and where?’

The look he gave her was penetrating. ‘And just why would you want to be there, Damara?’ he growled softly.

‘I think you know the answer to that, Alastor. I’m still a part of this team, even though I’m married to the enemy. I’d like to be a part of it when we catch them.’

Moody stared at her for a long time. On the one hand, she was an asset to have along on a raid. She was a risk-taker, but she was smart about it. During an interrogation, there was no one better. People tended to underestimate her, so they talked to her freely. On the other, she was newly married, which might cause problems with Malfoy. Finally making up his mind, he agreed to her accompanying him on the raid. He just hoped that her spy—that Snape--wasn’t lying.

#####################################

‘Hello. How was work?’ He seemed totally at ease with her, unlike his manner the past fortnight when he’d been curt and well, rather possessive. He kissed her on the top of her head.

‘Fine. A very boring day for us, but some Muggles hiking in the Highlands saw a Hebridean Black. The Obliviators had to be called in. Oh, Alastor is training a couple of new Aurors. They’re right out of school. With any luck, they’ll be halfway decent.’ She grinned at him and kissed him on the cheek. Two could play at this game. If he was willing to be loving toward her, well, she’d repay the favour. ‘My pick of mounts, hmm? She started to walk down the aisle between the stalls, peering in each.

He walked by her side as she proceeded, extolling the virtues of each mount. None of them quite suited her. But then through the open window of the last stall she saw him standing in the pasture. Eighteen hands high, solid chestnut except for a star on his forehead. Most definitely a stallion. She walked outside and around to the fence that enclosed the pasture. He walked over to her, powerful, graceful. His wings were folded to his sides, but she knew even without seeing them that he could fly forever. He stuck his nose in her hand as if searching for food.

‘This is the one.’ She turned to Marius, who stood with his mouth slightly open, totally surprised.

‘He’s never done that…’ he said slowly. ‘Never. No one can even get close to him, not even me.’

She smiled, ‘Well, he seems to have made the choice just as I have. May I ride him?’

Marius called to the groom, who came out with a saddle and bridle. Damara, however, was already in the paddock, the Aethonon kneeling so she could mount. They took off in a flash of wings. He seemed to know what her commands would be even before she gave them. They flew around the estate once, and he landed gently back in the paddock. She dismounted, sliding down from his back, and walked over to Marius.

‘Yes, most certainly him. Does he have a name?’

‘Well, I usually just call him The Beast.’

She looked sternly at him. ‘No wonder he doesn’t like you. That’s not a name!’ she thought for a moment. ‘Aidan,’ she called him softly and he came over to her. She patted his glossy hide and he nuzzled her cheek.

‘He’s yours, that’s for certain.’ Marius took her hand and led her into the tack room, where they proceeded to formalise the change of ownership. Damara insisted on that, just in case he—or Lucius had second thoughts.

Hand in hand, they returned to the manor.

The evening meal was formal, in that they changed for it. Marius had told her that his father and his grandfather as far back as he remembered always changed for the evening meal. When they had sat down to eat it, there wasn’t much conversation. And there wasn’t much tonight, either. Damara watched her husband surreptitiously for any signs of nervousness about the activities to follow that evening. Finding no outward signs, aside from Marius’s usual reserve, she managed to relax enough to enjoy the meal, which was delicious. Following the meal, they sat in the drawing room (Damara wanted to check out the library) until Marius crossed the room and put his hand around her waist.

‘Our bedroom calls,’ he murmured into her ear.

Not me it doesn’t, she thought, but she followed him up to the bedroom. She must play her role, act like the thought of being that close to him didn’t make her completely nauseous.

‘Why do formal robes make people so stiff,’ she wondered, then stifled a giggle at her unintentional pun.

‘Good to see you in good humour, my dear,’ Marius said.

‘Murdering graphorn,’ Damara thought, smiling back at him.

Marius was a skilful lover, at least when he was relaxed, and tonight Damara was a little more prepared. After it was over, she looked at her husband, who lay sleepily beside her, seemingly content. She also risked a look at the clock, which stood on the mantel. 10.00. She had plenty of time before she had to meet Alastor. Time enough to put the sleeping potion Severus had given her into his evening drink.

Beside her, Marius stirred and turned onto his side to look at her. ‘Would you care for a glass of brandy?’ He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘It will help you sleep.’

‘Brandy? Yes, I believe I would,’ she smiled at him, ‘shall I get it?’

‘Yes. I don’t believe I can move.’

She got out of bed and pulled her robes on. She then walked over to the desk, where a bottle of brandy and two glasses stood waiting. From one of the pockets, she pulled out the small phial, added two drops of potion, and took the glass over to Marius.

#####################

Less than an hour later, she was dressed and out of the manor. She Apparated to the prearranged place a mile or two from the Turner house, where she was to meet Moody and the others. They were there, waiting for her.

‘We’ll walk there and wait. You have your invisibility cloak? Good. Let’s go.’

They put on the cloaks and walked silently until they came to a spot from which they could observe. Moody kept his voice low. ‘We’ll have to let them do their killing, I’m afraid. But then we can go in and take the Death Eaters.’

‘Three down and how many more to go? I’d like to see them all in Azkaban,’ Damara thought

They waited for a while, all of them going over the plan they had made earlier in the day. Damara had been on enough raids to know that it wouldn’t be easy. Death Eaters could Apparate and Disapparate just like any other wizard. With a few minutes to go until midnight, Damara spoke. ‘It’s almost time. Shall we move closer?’

‘Move in.’

As they did, Damara saw a man creep up close to the house, very near their own post. She froze, and tried to make herself seem even smaller, even though she knew she couldn’t be seen.

‘Damara? Are you there? It’s Severus,’ he said into her mind.

Now that she knew who it was, she allowed herself to relax the tiniest bit.

‘I’m here; so is Alastor. We’re ready for them. Oh, and Severus, we’ll have to take you in as well. Don’t worry, we’ll let you go afterward.’

‘Promise me you’ll be the one to interrogate me.’

‘I promise.’

Then they were coming. Three men, cloaked and hooded, with white masked faces shining in the moonlight walked purposefully up to the door of the house, muttered something, and went in through the now-open door. When she looked around for Severus, he wasn’t there, and she saw him slip in the door after the three men. She heard shouts, then after a moment’s pause, screams, and then all was silent. She could imagine the scene inside the house. Questions. The Cruciatus Curse applied just a little. More questions. The curse put on a little harder, for a little longer, until finally answers were given—or not. The Avada Kedavra curse. Then oblivion. A chill went up her spine and she muttered a short benediction in Gaelic to ease them on their way to wherever it was they were going. The men came out of the house and one of them muttered ‘Morsmordre’ and a green skull with a serpent coming out of its mouth shot into the sky above the house.

‘Now,’ Moody whispered and they burst from their hiding place, wands drawn.

Only there was no one there except for Severus.

‘Damn!’ they all said it together. Moody aimed a couple of curses at the rosebushes, tearing them apart. He then turned his wand on Snape.

‘OK, Snape. Move. Now.’ Moody prodded him in the back.

Snape looked over at Damara and saw her nod imperceptibly, shrugged his shoulders, and moved.

Thirty minutes later, Damara and Severus were in her office at the ministry. Moody had gone for coffee and would rejoin them at any moment; Frank Longbottom had hurried Simon out of Damara’s office and vanished with him into his own office. They seized this chance to talk alone and uninterrupted for a few moments.

‘Not from me, they didn’t. I don’t see how they could know, unless the Dark Lord has a spy.’

‘Where? In the Ministry?’ her voice was incredulous. She’d always imagined the Ministry to be inviolate.

‘Don’t put anything past him, Damara. He has his spies, as we have ours.’ He knew only too well the power of the Dark Lord to woo and persuade ambitious people.

‘I’m not putting anything past him, Severus.’ She paced the length of the room and then walked back to stand in front of him. ‘But when I find out who the spy is I’ll hex him within an inch of his life.’ The colour had risen in her cheeks and her eyes were ablaze.

Severus started to say something, but was interrupted by Moody returning with the coffee.

‘You told them, didn’t you, Snape.’ It was not a question, more of an accusation.

‘No, I—‘

‘Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater, I say. Damara, he’s not worth beans as a spy.’

‘That’s not fair, Alastor,‘ She gave Severus a penetrating look. Say something in your defence, Severus.

‘I’m not a fool. I wouldn’t betray the headmaster’s trust in me. Damara, you know that,’

he said. Into her mind he added Please, Damara; help me convince Moody I’m not one of them. To Moody, he said, ‘I’m risking my life! Do you think I would be so foolish as to tell anyone that Aurors will be watching him and waiting to catch him? Do you think I have no personal stake in this? The Dark Lord murdered my sister—I want to see them caught as much as anyone!’ He was shaking now, and found it hard to breathe. Damara reached over and put her hand on his arm. Breathe, Severus, breathe. He tensed at the touch of her hand for just a moment, then relaxed as he heard her words in his mind.

‘No, I know you’re no fool. Nor would you betray Dumbledore,’ she said to Severus. She looked over at Moody, who was deep in thought.

‘You’re the best spy I have, Severus. So, we didn’t catch them tonight. We’ll do it some other night,’ her voice was determined and there was a glint in her eye.

‘She may trust you, laddie. I don’t. Not as far as I can throw you. Rest assured that I’ll be watching you closely.’ Moody got up from his chair and walked out of the room.

‘He doesn’t honestly believe that I’d—‘

‘Yes, he does. Old habits die hard with him, Severus. He’s followed these men for months—ever since we learned they were Death Eaters, and tonight was a real disappointment for him. Besides, Prometheus Turner was a close friend.’

‘For you too. A disappointment, I mean.’

‘Well, yeah. But I’ve got more faith in you than he does. We’ll catch them.’ Again, there was determination in her voice. ‘Even if we have to follow them to the ends of the earth, we’ll catch them.’

Once again, he thanked every deity he knew that he was not her enemy. He had no doubts about what she had just said. She was determined enough to do just that.

‘What if they find me out first?’ Snape asked.

‘They won’t. There are –um—safeguards that Dumbledore put in place. Hogwarts is safe for you, obviously; so’s your cottage. You’re safe anytime you’re at the manor, as well.’

‘I’m not a child for you and the Headmaster to baby-sit,’ he protested.

She smiled at him, and put her hand on his arm. This time he didn’t flinch at her touch. ‘I know as well as the next person that you’re bloody well able to take care of yourself. After all, didn’t you come to Hogwarts knowing more curses and hexes than most seventh years? However, if anyone finds out that you’re our spy, you are dead.’ And I don’t want that to happen.

Nor do I.

She glanced at her watch. ‘Time to call it a night.’

‘Malfoy won’t suspect where you’ve been?’

She grinned, ‘No. I used some of the potion you gave me. He’s been sound asleep for ages.’

They walked down to the front of the Ministry building together and Apparated to their separate homes.

#######################

Once in his snug cottage, Severus poured himself a whisky and mused. Had Avery, Rosier and Wilkes known that anything was going to happen? He would have to ask them about that. He tried to think of a discrete way to do it, but his brain wouldn’t concentrate on the task at hand. Instead, he found himself thinking about Damara. It was the first time he had seen her in action, so to speak, from the other side, and he was quite impressed with her coolness under fire. She had been disappointed, but the way she spoke left no doubt in his mind that she would do exactly as she had said—follow Death Eaters to the ends of the earth if need be.

##########################

Damara sat on her bed, Galadriel in her lap, purring for all she was worth. Severus had been right. She was disappointed that they hadn’t caught Rosier, Avery, and Wilkes. She’d been following them, right along with Moody, for months. To have them Apparate away, just when they were ready to nail them, was a blow. But there would be other chances. She realised that she had a second job, one that might prove equally as difficult in its own way, and that was to keep Alastor from doing something to Severus. She supposed she couldn’t blame Alastor for not completely trusting Severus. He’d tried, and failed, to extract information from Severus when they’d caught him. Well, his way of interrogation was intimidating, even to her, and she’d been with him for two years now. She’d just have to keep them away from each other as much as possible. Her task was to keep Severus safe from anyone finding out he’d turned spy. She only hoped she’d thought of everything. If anything happened to him…she gave an involuntary shudder. Galadriel licked her and rubbed her face on Damara’s hands.