Exposed

Snape cursed under his breath. The potion just wouldn't thicken... he hadn't had trouble like this for years. He was distracted, and angry with himself. He was never distracted.

Behind him, a door opened and someone stepped into the dim room.

"Evening," Lucius said in his languid draw, halting in front of the ancient 'Riddle' plaque. He sounded tired. "How's Nott coming along?"

"Fine," Snape replied shortly. "He'll live."

Mulciber, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Dolohov filed in after Malfoy, all looking tense and worn. Mulciber took a tumbler for Nott's potion and poured some kind of acid green liquor into it from a flask in his inside pocket.

"Damn Order was waiting for us again," he said as he threw his head back and took it in one gulp. "How they keep beating us to our own hits..."

"Actually... it's odd. Weren't we originally going to some sweet little Muggle suburb or the other tonight?" Dolohov said thoughtfully.

"Yeah," Lestrange replied, leaning against a wall and wincing. She must've still been sore from when she was... punished... after the battle at the Ministry. "So?"

"So how did they know we changed plans at the last minute?"

"Same way they knew about everything else," Lestrange shrugged.

"Hang on," said Malfoy slowly, catching Dolohov's meaning. "I thought we were the only ones who needed to know... how would the spy have found out in the first place?"

Quick, suspicious glances flicked all over the room at once, like a swarm of startled insects. Snape's heart sped, but he calmed it quickly. Damn--the Dark Lord hadn't announced that later? Damn... he had to leave. Another twenty seconds and the potion would be ready, and he could slip out. But it hadn't changed colors yet, and the others would know it wasn't finished. Snape blotted out the quickly rising panic and forced his palms not to sweat.

"You two heard it from me..." Malfoy said, nodding to Mulciber and Dolohov. "Bella, Antonin told you privately... and I got it directly from our Lord..."

"It couldn't be one of us... we've all been investigated like mad..." Lestrange said perplexedly.

"Well, so has every other Death Eater in the ranks, and he's slipped past that," Mulciber argued.

"For God's sake, we all fought with them!" Dolohov said. "They wouldn't kill their own informant!"

There was silence as this was considered, each darkly robed figure thinking hard. Ten more seconds.

"Was anyone else in the room when you were given your orders?" Lestrange said to Malfoy.

"Well, he was observing Nott's injuries at the time, but there's no way he could have done anything... and anyway, he only drifted into consciousness long enough to take his..." Malfoy paused. Snape froze, his hand halfway to the ladle.

"--potion..." Malfoy whispered. He turned slowly to look at Snape. For a moment, everything was quiet and very still, as everyone stared at the back of the potion-maker's cloak. Then there was a sudden, furious blast of spells.

"Stupefy!"

"Stupefy!"

"Impedimenta!"

"Stupefy!"

"PROTEGO!"

Snape's Shield Charm barely saved him. The others' Stunners ricocheted, and Lestrange and Mulciber were instantly unconscious. Another quick spell from Snape's wand and Dolohov was lying next to them.

"You... how...?" Malfoy looked angry and quite shocked, but certainly not frozen. He blocked another curse.

"Bloody hell, Severus..." he muttered to himself, and then sent a merciless barrage of hexes toward him. Snape had to duck to miss them all. The glass jars of some of his potion ingredients were still on the table beside him. He pointed his wand over his shoulder at them and raised it in an arch over his head. They flew at Malfoy, some shattering on the wall behind him. He yelled in frustration, and then pain, as a vial of salamander eggs burst on his forehead, cutting him and sending stinging liquid into his eyes. He staggered and Snape rushed from the room, shoving a passing Macnair, who, though clearly caught off his guard, seemed quite likely to soon heed Malfoy's frantic calls of "Get him!"

Snape burst out of a back door and into the balmy night air, running to the battered headstones where he could Disapparate and warn Dumbledore. God damn it, he hated to run away...

Back in the dark, ancient house, Malfoy stumbled into a room, sure his master would forgive the intrusion. He threw himself to his knees in front of the Dark Lord, panting, and gasped that he knew the traitor.