'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 three

Anywhere but here

The Ministry of Magic was in disarray. Rumours were spreading throughout the various departments: rumours of spies within those departments and rumours of crackdowns on those who were considered too soft on suspects. When Damara arrived at work two weeks after Moody’s showdown with Severus, she was greeted by whispered conversations on the way to her office. As she walked past Moody’s open door, he accosted her from within.

‘Malfoy! In here, please?’

Damara hastened to do his bidding.

‘You’d best sit down for this. You’re not going to believe it.’

Damara complied. ‘What’s going on, Alastor? Everyone I met when I came in was whispering. It sounded like a group of fairies all trying to talk at once.’

‘Crouch has authorised the use of the Unforgivable Curses on Death Eaters.’ He brandished a piece of parchment. ‘And that’s no rumour.’

‘What!?’ She looked as though Moody had just Stunned her. ‘But that would make us no better than they.’

‘He’s a fanatic. You know that as well as I.’

‘Have you told the Headmaster?’

‘Not yet. I was hoping that you would do it for me.’

‘Surely you can owl—‘

‘Don’t want to take the chance that the owl might be intercepted. You can warn Snape while you’re at Hogwarts.’ He gave her a penetrating look. ‘Wonder what Malfoy will make of this?’

She paused a moment to consider. ‘He’ll probably think we’re getting desperate. He’ll most likely go to Lucius with this, to figure out if it’s true, then take it to Voldemort.’ She tapped her fingers on the desk. ‘You know, he hasn’t given me anything I can use. Oh, he passed on some information to me; I had Severus check it out. It proved to be false.’ She looked as though she’d dearly love to hex her husband the first chance she got.

‘Figures. He’s playing you, Damara.’

She grinned. ‘He certainly seems to think so. I’ve heard him gloating about it in his mind.’ She stood up, ready to leave. ‘Anything else I should be aware of?’

‘Official meeting to announce Crouch’s new measures is in an hour. Be there.’

Damara went through the remainder of the hour in a daze. Why would anyone want to use the Unforgivable Curses on another human being? What would possess Crouch to do such a thing? There were rumours floating around about his son and the people he was hanging around with. Was that the reason? He’d always hated the Dark Arts; she found that out very quickly two years ago when she’d started working for the Ministry. She’d used some Dark Magic she’d learnt from Severus to detect suspected Dark activity. Crouch had heard about it, called her into his office, and threatened to haul her up before a Board of Enquiry. Moody had managed to get her off with just a warning, but she had been wary of Crouch ever since.

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

Bartemius Crouch stood at the head of the table, the focus of everyone’s attention.

‘Desperate times call for desperate measures. As you are no doubt aware, these are very desperate times. After much consideration, I have taken the decision to institute a new measure. All Aurors have my full authorisation to perform the Unforgivable Curses on any suspected Death Eater they capture. Aurors also have the authorisation to kill any Death Eater who resists capture. This—‘

His words were drowned out by a cacophony of voices, all speaking at once. ‘This makes us no better than they…It’s about time, we’ve lost too many of our own…what will we gain by this…?’

Crouch held his hand up for silence, but it was several moments before he could speak. ‘This measure will assure us cooperation from those we capture. If anyone has questions, please feel free to make an appointment to speak with me personally. Thank you for your time.’

‘I can just hear him now if you or I went in there to protest,’ she said to Alastor as they left the meeting. ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures, and these are desperate times.’ She mimicked Crouch’s voice perfectly, eliciting a laugh from Alastor.

‘You’d best be going, Malfoy,’ he said. ‘Keep me posted on what Dumbledore tells you.’

After the meeting, until she left for Hogwarts, the talk was of nothing but Crouch’s new plan. Most of the Aurors hated it, but there were a few who thought that it levelled the playing field a bit. She surreptitiously glanced at her watch. She had to go, especially if she was going to return in time for Marius’s damned dinner party. If Severus wasn’t at Hogwarts, it meant she would have to visit him at his cottage. Or, if that failed, there was always the dinner party. He would be there, of course, but she didn’t want to risk her husband’s displeasure, either by being late for the party, or by spending too much time with Severus. Marius had been nice, sweet, kind, and all those things she didn’t associate with anyone with the name Malfoy ever since the day of their wedding. Of course, she wasn’t fooled by his act. She supposed someone must have had a talk with him beforehand; most likely Lucius. He and Marius were extremely close, and Marius idolised his older brother. She remembered all too well the Cruciatus Curse Marius had put on her at their engagement party, and she didn’t want a repeat of that. She stepped into Moody’s office and told him she was leaving. She’d use floo powder to travel.

When she arrived at Dumbledore’s office, Severus was already there. He looked up when she entered at the Headmaster’s invitation.

‘Damara, lovely to see you,’ Dumbledore said as he kissed her on the cheek. ‘What brings you here?’

Severus smiled and said hello to her, trying his best to act as though she materialised at Hogwarts every day.

She sat in the chair Severus held out for her. ‘Crouch,’ she said, and proceeded to explain just what he’d said that morning in the meeting. ‘It’s only going to get worse, Professor. The man’s—I don’t know what he is, exactly.’

‘He’s in love with power. Men like that are very, very dangerous. A single misplaced word and one could find oneself in Azkaban.’ Dumbledore’s blue eyes were serious. ‘Both of you be very careful.’ He took off his glasses to look straight at Severus, who looked as if he couldn’t quite grasp what he’d just heard. ‘But especially you, Severus. Not everyone will be as ethical as Damara and Alastor.’

The meeting was over. Damara stepped up to the fireplace, bidding the two men goodbye. Severus cast around in his mind for an excuse to get her to stay, even though he would be seeing her again in a few short hours. He wanted to be alone with her away from Malfoy’s prying eyes. ‘Don’t leave—not yet. I’d like to know who you think we can trust not to use the Curses. You can use my fireplace to get home.’

They went down into the dungeons, where Severus had set up shop. While they talked, he showed her around his new office and workshop. He was compulsively neat, she thought. Everything was in perfect order, right at hand. Glass phials stood arrayed upon the counter as if they were soldiers on parade. Several cauldrons stood in a line upon the floor, some of them holding gently simmering potions. She peeked in the cabinets and saw ingredients neatly labelled and stored, waiting to be used.

‘I’m impressed, Severus. You mean you’ve managed to do all this in less than a month?’

‘I had nothing better to do.’ He moved from where he stood by the fireplace to stand in front of her. Damn, I want her. I don’t care if she is Malfoy’s wife. He reached out his hand to take hers, thought better of it, and said quickly,‘Now, tell me who you think has those ethics the headmaster was talking about.’

She told him. And as she talked, she couldn’t help but notice the look on his face. It had nothing whatsoever to do with Aurors. Or their ethics.

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

She stepped out of the fireplace and looked at her watch. Damn! Only an hour and a half to get herself ready for tonight. She went downstairs to the dining hall to make sure that everything was as it should be. No worries there. Everything was perfect. The linen tablecloth was so white that it hurt one’s eyes to look at it, the wood surfaces polished so brightly they gleamed in the candlelight, the high-backed chairs standing in a line so perfect she knew the house elves had spent hours making sure they were in perfect order.. She continued in the same manner throughout the rest of the rooms that were to be in use that night. All was spotless and gleaming. She peeked her head into the kitchen. Everything was under control there as well. The head cook, a middle-aged elf named Tubby, looked up from his pots. She gave him a smile, told him everything smelt wonderful, and headed for her bedroom. Tiggy had lain out her green robes, the silk ones Marius had given her. It was one of the few gifts she actually liked (Aidan being another) and was to her taste. She preferred simplicity in all things and Malfoy was too much inclined to give her things that were extremely showy. Tiggy had also run her bath. Damara luxuriated in the bubbles almost too long, savouring the chance just to be alone with her thoughts. She ran a few of these thoughts by Galadriel, who had followed her mistress into the room, and was answered by the kneazle’s reassuring purr. When she stepped out of the bath, she only had fifteen minutes to finish her preparations.

Marius was waiting for her as she descended the stairs into the entrance hall.

‘You look lovely.’

‘Thank you. I’d say the same, but you wouldn’t appreciate it.’ She took the hand he offered. ‘Would "you look handsome " suffice?’

He did look handsome in a Malfoy kind of way. Pale blond hair, almost platinum, grey eyes, and pale skin. The robes he wore tonight were of black silk and had a high collar trimmed in green. He looked down at his wife and smiled a smile of satisfaction. She was his and he took pride in the ownership. She had obviously made an effort to look nice for his guests. The green dress robes brought out the colour of her eyes, and she had chosen to wear her hair down. It hung in heavy waves down her back and was held off her face by a gold band.

They went into the reception hall. All was perfect in here as well. The glasses had been washed so they shone under the light of the candles, the sconces had been polished, and the furniture was so highly buffed that if one wasn’t careful, one would slide off.

‘Would you care for a drink?’ Marius asked her.

‘No, thanks.’ I’m too nervous to drink, Malfoy. I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll embarrass you. Or myself. Or both of us.

‘Do you mind if I have a drink?’

‘Not at all,’ she said, smiling at him.

After the guests had all arrived, Damara was quite busy playing the perfect hostess, circulating around the room, never straying too far from Marius’s side. She laughed at jokes that were totally unlaughable, endured kisses (as well as fended off some pawing hands when Marius was engaged elsewhere) from men she simply couldn’t stand, until she found herself looking up into Severus’s eyes. I wish we were back in your office. Anywhere but here.

I know. As do I. Malfoy is behaving himself, I hope?

She smiled at him and again projected her thoughts into his mind. He’s being too nice, Severus. Something’s up. I don’t trust him.

She could force herself to hold his hand, to kiss him, but not anything else. His gentleness didn’t fool her at all.

She could feel Severus’s eyes on her all through dinner. Every time she looked over at him, she found those black eyes studying her. It was only when Marius looked up and noticed Severus looking at her that he averted his gaze from her face. Neither of them wanted a repeat scene of what had happened in the dungeons at the engagement party. She contented herself with looking at him from the corner of her eye, hidden behind the curtain of her hair.

It was rather late when their guests started leaving. Severus was among the last to leave. He hated dinner parties but it was worth the agony of being nice to people if it meant that he’d have the chance of seeing Damara. Even if he had to hide what he felt for her. He certainly had had enough practise in hiding his feelings. He stood close to the stairs, waiting for the Lestranges to finish saying their goodbyes. They finally left, and he was alone with his hostess. Malfoy, funnily enough, was nowhere in sight. He supposed he and Lucius had gone somewhere together. He resisted the urge to take her into his arms and kiss her goodnight—instead he took one of her hands in his and raised it to his lips. ‘I had a wonderful time, Damara. Thank you.’

She smiled at him, her eyes seemingly able to read what was behind his formal words, as he knew her mind could do. ‘You’re quite welcome. Have a safe trip home.’ She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek.

She was standing at the door, watching him leave, when Marius suddenly materialised at her side. She asked without looking at him, ‘I think it went well, don’t you?’

His hand was on her arm, fingers tightly clamped so that she couldn’t get away from him. ‘Marius, what the—you’re hurting me.’

‘Upstairs. Now.’ He half-dragged her up the stairs and to his bedroom. Reaching the doorway, he let go of her arm and shoved her inside. He followed, closing the door behind them, and locking it with a spell. He turned to face her.

‘I saw the two of you. You want him, don’t you?’

‘Who?

‘Snape. It’s written all over your faces any time you’re together,’ he sneered. He took her by the arms and held her there. She kneed him in the groin as hard as she could. Surprised, he let go of her arms and she took a step backward.

‘I don’t know what you’re blathering on about, Marius. I don’t want Severus Snape.’ She snarled. It was a lie, and she knew it. She did want him. Very much.

‘Don’t lie to me, bitch.’ Marius slapped her, hard. ‘You are going to tell me everything that is between you.’ He took his wand from the pocket of his robes. ‘Crucio.’

Knocked aside from the force of Malfoy’s slap, white-hot pain seared into her side.. It wasn’t enough to seriously injure her, but it hurt all the same. He removed the spell. ‘Well. I’m waiting.’

She kicked him in the hand which was holding the wand. ‘There’s nothing to tell, Marius. We’re friends. That’s all.’ Willpower forced her to look into his eyes. She eased her wand out of her robes, ready to use, but he saw her movement, reached out, and grabbed it from her. He walked to the edge of the rug where his wand lay on the floor and picked it up.

‘Liar.’ He held the wand out toward her again. ‘Crucio.’

Again the white-hot pain, more this time. Damn you to hell! She forced herself to breathe evenly, feeling each breath enter and leave her body. She kept her eyes on him as she walked toward the door, toward freedom..

He removed the curse. ‘Liar. I saw the two of you looking at each other all bloody evening.’ He took her by the arms, pinning them to her side. ‘Tell me, does he kiss as well as I do?’ He kissed her roughly, forcing her lips apart and his tongue into her mouth.

Trying not to gag, she bit down on his tongue with as much force as she could muster. He loosened his grip on her arms, and she brought her arm up, intending to rake him across the face.

She never got the chance. He punched her in the jaw and she fell back against the fireplace surround.

He merely stood glaring down at her. ‘Well?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Marius. I’ve never kissed the man.’ Except once, she thought, and that was too bloody brief.

No one, especially not you, makes a fool of me and does not suffer the consequences.

He again held the wand toward her. ‘Crucio.’

This time, the pain was so intense that she fell to her knees. Concentrate. Breathe. I’m going to bloody kill him the next chance I get. Concentrate. Shake the pain off. I can’t. It’s too much. Breathe. Tears were in her eyes now, and she fought to hold them back, not to cry out at the pain, not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he hurt her. It was hard, for the pain was worse than anything Moody had put her through; it was worse than anything she’d ever felt. Then as suddenly as it began, it was over.

Marius walked over to her, picked her up none too gently, and carried her to his bed. He kissed her again, just as roughly as he did before, and stripped off her robes. He threw her down upon the bed. Before she could make a move to escape, he was on top of her, forcing himself into her. Over and over, until she thought she would drown in his smell and his power.

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

Although it was the middle of the night, he couldn’t sleep. That often happened. He had found that if he just lay there, sometimes his thoughts would quieten and he could drift off. That was a rare occurrence, however.

The door opened softly, and someone else was in the room with him. The figure moved to the bed, and he feigned sleep, hoping that he would just go away. He didn’t. He never did. He felt the hands on his skin through his nightshirt, running up and down his arms, then moving to trace his fingers down his sides. He held still. He’d found out that if he was perfectly still, the man wouldn’t hurt him quite so much. If he were compliant, it would be over soon. When this had first started, he’d fought, and gotten hurt in the process. The pain and humiliation had lasted longer too. So he kept still. He felt the cool air on his skin, his nightshirt being lifted, and a mouth and tongue where he’d felt it before, where it definitely shouldn’t have been. That part of it was over only after the man had gotten what he wanted from him; then he felt himself being turned over and his legs forced apart. This was the part he hated. No preparation, just the sharp pain of being entered. He felt as though he was being torn apart. Finally sated, the man left. He waited until the man was out of the room before he lost control. Tears silently coursed down his cheeks.

He sat up, jolted out of sleep, sweat pouring down his neck. Why that particular dream tonight? He’d had it often enough in the past. A memory, it worked itself into his dreams over and over. He’d never told anyone about it, of course. He’d kept it as a dark secret, hugged it to himself as though it would keep him warm and safe from the humiliation and pain. It never had. But why did it come tonight? He sat still, totally composed ; at least, as composed as he could be with that memory…that, that dream floating around in his head, and listened, as though he could possibly hope to hear her thoughts from that far away. And he heard them; not so much her thoughts, for he couldn’t make sense of them. They came through jumbled, as though too many people were trying to talk at once. Damn you to hell! Silent screams. Hers. Concentrate. Breathe. I’m going to bloody kill him the next chance I get. Concentrate. Shake the pain off. Breathe…

Damara. Hurting. In pain. His first thought was to go to the manor, break down the doors and bring her back here. His second was to lure Malfoy away somehow. After thinking about it, he realised he could do neither. He couldn’t stand knowing that. Knowing she was helpless to stop it. Knowing he was unable to help her. The crystal decanter on his bedside table suddenly shattered. The glass which stood beside it did the same. ‘No. Get hold of yourself, Severus. You can’t help her by breaking everything in the house.’ Concentrate. Breathe. The very words she had used helped him gain some semblance of control. Too afraid to try to sleep again, he got up, went into the main room of the cottage, lit a candle, fell into his favourite armchair and read until dawn.

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

Damara couldn’t sleep. Her thoughts in a turmoil from Malfoy’s brutality, she decided a walk around the grounds was just what she needed. She’d tried to heal herself and it had helped somewhat on the physical pain, but had done nothing for her mind. As quickly as she could, considering the pain she was in, she dressed in black jeans, black shirt, and black robes. She headed down the stairs, out the door, and into the cool evening. Stars twinkled in the sky and the moon cast a warm glow over the entire landscape. Heading for what was quickly becoming her favourite spot in the gardens, she took the long route, stopping to smell flowers along the way. Some of them were so heady as to be intoxicating, and she felt, as she had before when she walked in the gardens, free. If only for a while. She would have gone to see Aidan but she knew what she would have done. And she could not afford to do that--… to just leave. She had a job to accomplish and she’d better be about doing just that. She had to somehow force him into betraying himself. She slowly made her way up the path leading to the gazebo, the white flowers standing stark in the moonlight, their pale luminosity reminding her of Marius.

As she approached the gazebo, she heard voices.

‘Don’t stop.’

‘I have no intention of stopping.’ A low laugh followed by a sigh.

‘Please do that some more.’ The voice was pleading, teasing.

‘Oh, god!’

Then came the unmistakable sound of breathing, ragged and passionate in its intensity. Drawing closer, she peeked in and saw…

…Marius. Naked. In the arms of another man, equally as naked. He was on top of Marius, kissing him with a passion that was almost brutal. Blond heads flashed in the moonlight, bodies moved in a rhythm that was unmistakable, and she saw the curve of a cheek she’d grown all too familiar with in the past month. Lucius. Damn, I knew they were close, but I didn’t think they were that close. They had changed positions, and now Marius was on top of Lucius, exhibiting the same brutal, passionate intensity Lucius had shown just moments before. Damn, Marius, wasn’t raping me a few hours ago enough for you? No, she was wrong; this wasn’t the same brutality that she had been on the receiving end of. It was brutal because it was so intense, so passionate, that it was almost painful to watch. She knew she shouldn’t be watching—what if he saw her here-- but she couldn’t help herself.

Marius cried out, ‘Lu-!’ and his cry was stifled by his brother’s kiss.

She was in somewhat of a daze as she walked away from the gazebo. Suddenly, she had quite a lot to think about.

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

She was awakened after only a few hours’ sleep by something warm and fluffy sitting on her chest. ‘Galadriel, let me sleep. I’ll feed you in a little while,’ she muttered. The thing was insistent, though, and stayed right there. She opened one eye, and a pair of amber ones stared back at her. Quickly coming to her senses and realising that an owl was staring her in the face, she took off the note it had tied to its leg and opened it. Its job over, the owl flew out of the open window. She opened the note and read in James’s untidy scrawl…

He’s here! Harry James Potter was born 31^st July, 1980, at 11.59 pm.

Weight: 6 lbs, 10 oz

Length: 21 inches

Lily and Harry are doing fine—I’m a nervous wreck, though! Come by and see us as soon as you can. We’ve got something very important to ask you.

James

She grinned at what James had written. Yes, she could see them now, Lily, serene, handling motherhood as gracefully as she did everything else. And James, usually so self-possessed, nervous with worry over Lily, Harry, and quite probably the thing that was on all of their minds just now: Voldemort. Well, both of them were powerful; they’d be able to keep Harry safe.

She glanced at the clock that sat on the mantel. She had just enough time to send a note back. She should have told James’s owl to wait, but lack of sleep had dulled her wits. She quickly scrawled a note of congratulations, telling them that she would owl them later to set up a time to meet the newest Potter.

She dressed without really thinking about it. Hoping not to meet her husband, she went down the back stairs, through the kitchen, saying a good morning to the house elves as she passed through. She stopped and asked a question. ‘Is the master in the dining hall?’

‘No, Mistress. He asked for his breakfast early, then left,’ one of them answered.

‘Thank you.’ Thank the gods for small favours, she thought. At least she wouldn’t have to face him.

‘What does Mistress wish for breakfast?’

‘Just coffee, please.’

Drinking her coffee much more rapidly than she would have liked to, she scanned the Daily Prophet for any news. Finding nothing she didn’t already know about, she drained the cup and Apparated to work.

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

‘Malfoy. There’s someone in your office waiting for you,’ Moody said to her as she poked her head in his office to say good morning.

She groaned. All she really wanted to do was sleep another few hours, and not have to deal with anyone until she was good and ready.

‘Who is it?’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t see him. Simon told me he was waiting when he came in to work.’

She walked to her office, which was next to Alastor’s. He was sitting in the chair in front of her desk, and she could tell that he was upset about something. She walked into the room, and he turned to face her.

‘Good morning, Severus. What brings you here at such an unearthly hour? Alastor told me you were here when we opened.

‘A couple of things. First, I found this last night, at the party.’ He handed her a piece of parchment.

She opened it and saw a list of names.

Prewett

Bones

McKinnon

‘It’s a list of those he’s after.’

There was no need to say who the "he" was.

‘Malfoy left this just lying out in the open?’

‘Yes. He called us all in and said he’d gotten word from the Dark Lord about who to kill next. He owled this morning to set up a time and a place to meet to plan the next killing.’

Damara thought for a moment. He’d eaten early and left. Could that have been the reason?

‘Thanks for this. Do you think it’s for real?’

‘Lucius is also in the inner circle and Marius joined the Death Eaters at his invitation. He might know something.’

‘Something that you don’t? Voldemort’s not getting suspicious of you, is he?’

‘No, I’m still his golden boy.’ His voice was sarcastic. ‘I’m the only one who can make his damn potions.’

‘Sarcasm, Severus?’

‘Well, you know, Damara. Sarcasm—just one more service I offer.’ A smile played around his lips.

She smiled too for the first time since last night. And what other services do you offer, Severus?

Anything you wish, Damara.

What an offer. She could think of several things she wished for, and they began and ended with Malfoy in excruciating pain.

Severus walked over and closed the door. ‘Now, for the other thing.’ He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. This would be a delicate question. He didn’t know if she knew just how much their minds were connected. ‘What did Malfoy do to you last night?’

She merely stared at him. ‘How did you know?’ she said slowly.

‘I heard your voice in my head.’ He moved to stand close to her, and tilted her chin where she could look him in the eyes. ‘I know he hurt you, now what did he do?’ His voice was soft but urgent.

‘You’ll kill him.’

‘Let me be the judge of that, please.’

There was no escaping those eyes, black as a moonless, starless night. His gaze was intense, as if trying to read the thoughts she kept hidden. And suddenly, it all came out in a torrent of words, what had happened, everything about last night. She found herself in his arms, her tears wetting the front of his robes, his arms solid and secure around her.

And then, in a silky, sure voice, ‘I will kill him.’

As always, major thanks must go to my ‘terrific trio’ of betas. This would not be nearly as good without them.

Doug: You always have the best ideas…; Al: Thanks for turning me on to the possibilities of slash…; and finally, Yael: Your suggestions always make my work better