Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Spy vs. Spy	By : Sakuracelt Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 15746 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter, or any of JK Rowling's characters. This is just fanfiction, and I am not making any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
  Severus stared blankly at the woman in front of him, forcing his expression to remain politely neutral when his insides were roiling. The ministry witch and her compatriots had been interrogating him (for want of a better word) for the past hour. They’d talked ministry business. They’d discussed the “progressive changes that would inevitably (here Severus had to suppress a highly disdainful eye roll) cause operations at Hogwarts to run more smoothly.” They’d politely discussed the weather, which was cold and dreadful. Clearly they thought this was a tactful approach to weeding out the information they desired, knowing that magical methods would prove most unwise. Clumsy. Very clumsy. Now, after far too much dancing around the issue, Dolores Umbridge finally reached the point.
            “Severus…do you know the whereabouts of Albus Dumbledore?” Umbridge demanded softly in a high, girlish voice. Her hair bow was slightly askew, and her smile frozen. There was frustration and fury behind that expression. He fought back a smirk.
            “Lost him, have you? Pity.” Severus drawled in mock sympathy. Of course he had already heard about the fiasco in Dumbledore’s office. The ministry spy had discovered the student organization called “Dumbledore’s Army” and had foolishly tried to arrest the Headmaster, with predictably disastrous results. “I’m afraid Albus Dumbledore has not chosen to confide in me.” The lie came easily. He’d been telling it longer than he cared to admit. “Rest assured that if he does so, I will report to you immediately.” He reclined his head to her with every appearance of sympathy. This seemed to mollify her somewhat, setting her wide mouth into a disapproving frown, as if Severus Snape was a student who’d forgotten his homework.
They were standing in her office, as the headmaster’s had evidently sealed itself closed in open rebellion of her newfound authority. Prime Minister Fudge was pacing back in forth in front of the fire, wringing his hands with frustration, which amused Severus greatly. He knew that he was not the first professor at Hogwarts to be interrogated in this fashion, nor would he be the last, but they were very foolish indeed if they thought for a moment that Albus Dumbledore would confide his whereabouts to those closest to him. This was all becoming very dull. Didn’t they know he had papers to grade?
There was one detail about this little charade that did not amuse him in the slightest. The tall stranger had been standing ramrod straight at the window with his back turned to them for the entire duration of the conversation, not uttering so much as a syllable. At first, he’d assumed him to be one of Fudge’s bodyguards, but more than once he’d caught the minister shooting very nervous glances in his direction. Umbridge seemed to notice him eyeing this man, for she gave him a very wide smile that might have been called ‘wistful’ had it not been so grotesque. “Ah. Severus, I forgot. So silly of me. Might I introduce you to mister Wode?”
She gestured graciously to introduce the tall stranger, and was about to say something else, but was cut off abruptly when he turned and stalked toward Severus with enormous deliberation, his hand outstretched. “Professor Snape. It is an honor.” For so large a man, his voice was surprisingly soft.
Umbridge’s eyes seemed to glaze over in ardent admiration, and he understood why as he clasped the stranger’s hand. Standing well over six feet tall, Mr. Wodan cut an impressive figure, and was exceedingly handsome in a weather beaten sort of way. He looked as if he should have been carving out a trail on some rugged, snowcapped mountain, or perhaps pillaging a local village with an axe slung across his broad shoulders. His ash blond hair was windswept, but elegant, and his beard was immaculately trimmed. The man was powerfully built and it showed, even beneath his perfectly tailored black suit, and Severus had to fight back a wince, as the handshake became a crushing grip. His stomach did an unpleasant backflip when he looked down and saw familiar, intricate runes tattooed into his long fingers. There was a strange ferocity about this man. Something feral lurked beneath his professional demeanor. Even though Mr. Wode smiled politely, his pale grey eyes burned most unnervingly.
“I have been sent here by the Sorcerer’s District of Iceland.” He said in clipped, practiced English. “I am what you British call an auror.” Snape’s sense of foreboding grew.
“And what brings you to our shores, Mr. Wode?” He inquired, feigning a tone of bored politeness. Somehow he thought he already knew the answer.
“I am here on official business, Professor Snape. It has reached the attention of my ministry that your school has been harboring a known fugitive. A miss Freya Lupin.” Severus’ brows shot up, but he was careful not to show any more emotion than that. “You are surprised, of course. Surely you were not aware that your colleague was a thief, and a murderess.”
“I confess I was not. Might I inquire about her crimes?”
“Certainly. She has been charged with the theft of highly classified documents, as well as the murder of a highly popular businessman. His death caused quite a stir. Our pureblood community is in uproar.”
“Most unfortunate.”
“I have been informed that you were once on intimate terms with the criminal?” Wode’s voice was charming and polite, but there was danger behind the words.
Snape snorted derisively. “Hardly. Dumbledore asked me to keep an eye on her while she was here, and so I did.”
“And where is the fugitive now?” Wode asked, his voice now lower and far more velvety. Severus smiled ruefully.
“I wish I could help you, but unfortunately Miss Lupin disappeared several weeks ago. I sincerely doubt that she would have any interest in alerting me to her whereabouts. One might assume she has gone into hiding with that brother of hers.”
“Come now Snape. We’ve all heard the rumors.” Fudge butted in, his lip curled in what he apparently thought was a disarming smile. “No one would hold it against you.” Snape shrugged nonchalantly.
“I don’t know what you’ve heard, Minister but I assure you that it was information I was after. When she left, we were not precisely on good terms. She did not trust me any more than I trusted her.”
“I can speak to the truth of that, Mister Wode. My sources here at Hogwarts have informed me that upon her departure, the fugitive went…oh, what’s the phrase? Slightly batty.” Dolores Umbridge gave a tiny giggle that set his teeth on edge. “She made a great mess of a classroom, completely hysterical, and…what was it she threw at you, Severus?”
“A jar of turpentine.” He replied, seething hatred churning in his gullet. Damn the rumor mill to hell. It was an effort to keep his fingers from twitching as he thought about throttling the horrible witch, but luckily, he was a favorite of hers and if she backed up his story, he was in the clear. For now.
“Albus Dumbledore…” Fudge spat angrily. “First he hires that werewolf, then a deatheater, and then a murderer. Merlin’s beard, what will he subject the children to next?” Severus frowned at the mention of Barty Crouch Junior, but noted that the minister had completely failed to mention Quirrell, the wizard who’d born lord Voldemort on his own body like an evil parasite.
“It is unfortunate that the ministry did not see fit to intervene earlier.” Severus mused in thoughtful tone. The minister glanced at him, uncertain as to whether or not he was being made fun of.
“I see.” Mr. Wode gave Severus an appraising glance that sent icy shivers down his spine. “If the fugitive reaches out to you in any way, you will contact me at my room in Hogsmeade.” It was not a question. Severus bowed graciously, and gave him a tight-lipped smile, but as he turned to leave, he felt the man’s long fingers bite into his shoulder, and a low voice muttered. “We will talk again, Professor Snape.”
He swept from the office, allowing himself to breathe a small sigh of relief, but the enigmatic stranger lingered at the edge of his thoughts well into the evening, as he sorted through a pile of potion scrolls. Mr. Wode, if that really was his name, positively reeked of dark magic. Whether he was truly an official ambassador or an imposter, he could not be sure, but he’d recognized some of those runes tattooed on his hands, for they were very similar if not identical to the ones Freya herself bore. “Murderess,” he’d called her. “Thief.” His lips twisted in a sour grimace. Dumbledore trusted her. That should have been enough, but he couldn’t help but dwell on the vision he’d seen at Grimmauld place. A murder of crows. A red haired stranger in the snow. For a brief moment his memory strayed to that night at the Locke, and to the strangely beautiful piece of magic he’d seen her perform for her willing and lusty audience. She’s just a painter, he thought. Just a painter with a penchant for making enemies.
Severus Snape was not a believer in omens, but Freya had clearly been afraid of what she had seen. He had a theory, which he scribbled in the ensorcelled notebook for her to see. “Freya, you are being hunted. Someone is trying to pry into your mind, and when you performed legilimency at dinner the other night it must have created a crack in your defenses. Please, let me take you away from Grimmauld Place. It is no longer safe for you there.”
He’d stared at the empty page, willing her messy, sprawling handwriting to appear, but when she finally did reply, her answer was less than satisfactory.
“What do we need to brew Malignum Praesidium?”
“Damn you, don’t change the subject.” His frown deepened as he recalled the task that Dumbledore had given them.
“If it’s protection I need, then the potion is my best chance.” He nearly threw the sketchbook in frustration. She was right, but also very, very wrong. The potion would indeed offer protection, but not against a man who looked as if he could break her neck and then make a pot of tea without so much as blinking.
“A man calling himself ‘Mr. Wode’ has been asking questions about you. He has a warrant for your arrest. Who is he, Freya?”
            “What did he look like?”
            “Tall, blonde and bearded. His hands were tattooed like yours.” There was a long pause, and Severus felt a sickening sense of dread.
            “We need Malignum Praesidium. You must take it too, when we have it.”
            “Who is he?”
            “If he’s who I think he is, then I’m afraid we don’t have much time. Be careful, Severus.”
            This time he really did throw the sketchbook. It collided with a shelf, knocking several vials crashing to the floor. He ran his long pale fingers through his hair, something that was quickly becoming a habit, before taking out his wand and muttering “Reparo.” The shards of glass immediately fused back together, and it was as if nothing had happened. His secret wife was an incredibly maddening woman. What was she hiding from him? There was a knock on the door, and when he flung it open, Harry Potter winced, then stared up at him with an odd expression on his face. Snape scowled. He had completely forgotten about occlumency lessons.
            “Get in here, Potter.”
            The boy’s expression melted into a familiar, insolent glower as he did, but when the door closed behind him, he seemed unable to keep from blurting out, “Sir, that man walking about with Umbridge…” Snape whirled on him so quickly, that he took a step back in alarm. “He’s asking the students about Miss. Lupin.”
            “I hope…for your sake…that you held your tongue, Potter.” Severus murmured in a low, dangerous tone as he walked silently to his pensieve, and began slowly drawing memories from his mind. There were some things he did not need the boy to see. Then he turned back to Harry who looked highly offended. “If you are not a complete imbecile, you will stay as far away from that man as possible. If, however, my suspicions regarding your intellect are correct, then I cannot help you.”
            “Sir, I thought Freya was a member of the ord-“
            “You will NOT call her that when you are in my presence, Potter.” He snarled. “To you she is ‘Miss Lupin.’ I don’t care what she told you, such familiarity is disrespectful.” He whipped out his wand and pointed it at Harry’s nose. “Now. Prepare yourself. Legilimens.”


*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            Disaster. Complete and utter failure. When Severus yanked Potter from the pensieve, his pensieve, where he had deliberately placed his most private thoughts and memories, he went into a rampage. He’d never seen the boy leave his office so quickly, and it was a good thing too, or he may have strangled him. All of the old hatred came rushing back with that memory. The torment he’d endured from Sirius Black and James Potter. The love he’d once held for Lilly Evans, and the searing guilt he now felt. He’d vowed never to love another. He’d sworn that he would love her ghost until the day he died. He’d broken that promise. She never loved you. Not that way, a small voice whispered. When he swept into his chambers he stared into his own cold black eyes, full of rage and a self-loathing that was as familiar to him as an old blanket. Lilly chose him, and not you, he thought. What amazed him this time was that he no longer cared the way he once did, but nonetheless, cold fury twisted in his gut like a nest of serpents, coiling and uncoiling, filling him with a desire to hurt something. Luckily, his chance would come soon.
            Grimacing into his own reflection, he cast off the billowing robes and changed into a black, form fitting suit that was much more appropriate for a duel. It was a frigid night, but he did not care. He would be warm soon enough. When he reached the edge of the forest, Lucius was waiting for him.
            “Severus.”
            “Lucius.”
            The two wizards acknowledged each other with a courteous nod. Severus had half expected the man to don death eater attire, but he had thankfully chosen a more discrete costume, though his billowing robes were no less lavish than usual. Instead of his silver mask, Lucius wore a simple white one with blank features. The effect was mildly alarming in the pale moonlight. Severus wore an even simpler mask of black cloth, and his hair was tied back to reduce any obstruction to his vision.
            His teeth were gritted, but not from cold. Gentlemen’s rules, be damned. If he had the opportunity, Snape had every intention of giving Black a little lesson on Muggle dueling. His blood was up. It pulsated in his eardrums, threatening to overcome his usual self-control. It felt good. With any luck, he would defeat Black with a swift vengeance before turning on Remus, who admittedly had never tormented him the way James and Sirius had, but had also never lifted a finger to stop it. He’s Freya’s brother, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. She won’t be pleased if you hurt him. He scowled at the thought, but the roots of this grudge grew too deep. Damn the Marauders to hell, he thought. Brother or not, he has to pay for what he did. This was one wound that would not heal until he took his vengeance. Tonight, I end this.
“Any thoughts on strategy, Severus? I do hope you make this quick. My wife is expecting me home by morning.”
“Shut up, Lucius.” He snarled, stalking determinedly into the forbidden forest.
They found Sirius and Remus in a small clearing, pale and grey with frost that crunched underfoot, but relatively free of obstacles. It would suffice. Remus was casting silencing charms, so that they would not disturb the forest’s deadlier residents, although Severus doubted that any creature would be foolish enough to intervene in a grown wizard’s duel. Even the centaurs were wary of such things. Sirius was leaning nonchalantly against a mossy tree, pretending to inspect his fingernails as they approached. He wore a bronze mask in the likeness of Guy Fawkes, which seemed oddly fitting, while Remus’ entire face was concealed beneath a simple wooden one, and the hood of his cloak was drawn up to ward of the chill. Lucius snorted derisively at the state of Lupin’s clothes, which were very shabby and patched. Severus stopped, and curled his fingers around his wand, fingering it with mounting anticipation.
“Ohh look who it is, Remus!” Black called out in mock cheerfulness. “You ready to teach Snivellus a lesson in manners?”
Severus sensed Lucius stiffen beside him, and he knew that he’d recognized that jeering voice. When he’d been a prefect, Lucius had often been the one to protect Severus from the Marauder’s torments. So much for anonymity.
“Let’s get this over with.” He growled, motioning for Lucius to take a step back. If he fell, the blond wizard would take over the fight. Remus said nothing, but made an odd, jerking movement, as if he wanted to say something that might stop this nonsense, but Sirius snarled something that clearly made him think better of it. They silently moved closer to one another until Severus was looking up into the heated glare of his boyhood nemesis.
“Does it make you angry Snivellus? To know that right now, Freya is safe and warm in my bed, and not yours?” He could sense the smile behind the mask as their breath billowed white in the frigid air. Blood rushed to Severus’ face in a wave of hot anger, but he remained still, knowing that Black was just trying to get him riled up. Such banter was not encouraged in a gentlemen’s duel, but it was traditional nonetheless.
“Liar.” He hissed. Sirius gave a sharp bark of laughter.
“Shall we then?”
“Naturally.”
They raised their wands in salutation, and brought them swiftly down, slicing the air between them. Then they turned, and walked ten paces.
“Affligo!” Severus bellowed. Sirius hissed, and barely managed to block the hex that would have rained terrible blows upon his head and neck.
“Aguamenti!” He cried, but Severus swiped his wand across the vicious jet of water, turning it into a wall of deadly ice cycles. With a venomous leer, he turned the projectiles over with a flick of his wrist, and sent them flying at Sirius who dove bodily out of the way. The ice cycles disintegrated upon the protective charm that Remus had cast around the clearing, but not before several of them became embedded in the phalanx of surrounding trees with a series of loud wooden thunks.
The light that pulsated from their wands filled the glen with an eerie glow as they fired hex upon hex at one another. It was impossible to tell who had the advantage. Sirius fired with almost boyish glee, often laughing derisively to mock his foe, but Severus was astutely aware of his surroundings, and was quick to utilize them, firing jinxes with cool precision. During one such moment, Sirius seemed to have the upper hand after hitting Snape with a densaugeo curse, causing his teeth to grow rapidly. He ducked behind a tree, and pointed his wand at his mouth, severing the curse as well as slicing off several inches of overgrown incisor. “Coward!” Black leered. Severus shuddered with hatred, then sprang from his temporary hiding place.
“Imprecari!” A jet of purple flames burst from his wand, striking the ground where Sirius stood. The tall wizard managed to dodge the full force of the blow, but his sleeve caught on fire and he began to beat his arm frantically against his thigh until the flame was extinguished.
Infuriated, he pointed his wand at a small boulder, and snarled something inaudibly under his breath. The rock immediately sprouted six horrible, furry legs, and reared its newly formed head. Jaws clicking hungrily, the enormous spider charged at Severus, who turned, and bolted for the nearest tree. Sirius’ mocking laughter echoed in his ears as he reached up, and broke off a limb, smoothing the wood between his fingers, feeling it lengthen and straighten. The laughter turned into a growl of frustration when the potions master smirked, twirled the deadly spear in his hands, and kicked the spider viciously in its face before driving the sharp point downward through the back of its head. It gave a horrible squeal, and its body convulsed sickeningly in its death throes. Lucius, still watching from the sidelines, actually applauded appreciatively at this display of brutality.
With a terrible sneer etched on his face, Severus rushed at his foe, slashing the air with his wand, the spear forgotten. One could almost sense the grin dying on his lips behind the bronze mask as Sirius found himself on the defensive. Severus closed in, raising his arm, about to bring a terrible blow upon his childhood enemy, but Sirius snarled out.
“I know why you like her, Snivellus.” He deflected the blow with a sloppy but effective shield charm, and countered with a stunning spell, which forced Severus to duck, slowing his advance. “It must kill you to think about her, living under my roof. She has terrible nightmares. Sometimes she cries out your name.” Sirius tried to disarm him, and nearly succeeded, but Severus caught his wand before it flew too far from his grasp, and sent a stinging jinx into Sirius face. Unfortunately, it bounced off the bronze mask, and the wizard only laughed. “Soon it’ll be my name she cries out.”
Incensed with rage, Severus growled “Shut up. SHUT UP!” And lashed out his wand, which turned into a vicious, cracking whip and snapped at Sirius’ knees. He knew that Black was trying to egg him on, trying to make him so angry he made a mistake, but he didn’t care. He cracked the whip cruelly, and it slashed across his torso, drawing a thin line of blood. For a moment, it seemed Severus had won, but Sirius rose to his feet.
“Alveusio!” Sirius hissed, but Severus blocked the hex, which would have created a hole in his abdomen.
“I thought this was supposed to be a gentlemen’s duel.” Lucius mused in an almost bored tone. “Although I wouldn’t expect a filthy bloodtraitor mutt to know what that means.”
            Hearing the insult, Sirius’ head whirled toward Lucius. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Severus snarled “Accio, Sirius Black!” And with a cry of dismay, Sirius’ body lurched toward Severus, who stopped him in midair when his belly collided with his tightly balled fist. There was a terrible sound of air being forced out of Sirius’ lungs, but when he fell to the ground, he rolled and swiftly regained his footing.
            “You cheated, you bloody Slytherin! Appicus!” A swarm of bees erupted from the tip of Black’s wand, and flew furiously about Severus’ face where they began to sting every available inch of exposed flesh. Howling in pain and fury, he banished the bees with a freezing jinx, and their little bodies fell to the earth. He coughed, and spat out a particularly fat one, which buzzed drunkenly away from him, clearly disoriented.
            “Callesco!” He thought clearly, and watched as Sirius began hopping absurdly from one foot to another as steam hissed from his shoes. “Mortem Millia Secat!” He hissed nastily, and a wall of blades sprang from his wand, rushing toward Sirius. It was a spell that Freya had often favored. The thought was sobering, and before he realized what he was doing, he thought, “Finite” and the blades dissolved into sand before they reached flesh. He shook his head as Lucius gave a small groan of disappointment. This was supposed to be a show of skill, not a bloodbath.
            “Having second thoughts, Snivellus?” Black cried out jeeringly as he struggled to undo the hex that was making his shoes heat up painfully. In an attempt to yank a shoe off, Sirius actually fell over with a comical grunt of pain. Severus frowned at him. For a moment, Sirius reminded him of the young boy he used to be, arrogant and a bully, but still just another student, like he had once been. He recalled Freya’s words when the subject of teaching had come up. “Once you separate the house from the student, you realize that’s a child you’re looking at.” How odd, to suddenly see one’s enemy as just a stupid little boy.
            “Oh for fuck’s sake.” Lucius sighed, exasperated. “Are you going to kill each other, or play nice? Pick one for Merlin’s sake.” Snape’s brief moment of ennui was instantly shattered.
            “Sectumsepra!” Sirius cried out, but before anyone could respond, Remus leapt between them, and took the full brunt of the curse with a hiss of pain. Dark stains began to well up beneath his threadbare robes. “NO!” Sirius gasped and started forward, his arms outstretched to embrace his friend as he staggered. “Remus, you stupid git….”
            Sirius flew backwards, hit a tree with a light thud, and crumpled unconscious to the ground. Snape’s eyes widened in shock, for it had not been he who’d thought the spell. He looked furiously at Lucius, thinking he had done it, but he seemed just as perplexed as he was. Before he had time to think, Remus whirled on him, and sent a silent hex in his direction. Severus managed to dodge out of the way, but felt the heat of it graze his skin. “Are you MAD?” He snarled, renewed anger bubbling up inside of him as he aimed a stinging jinx at the werewolf. Lupin blocked it, and tried to stun him a second time. He blocked it with a shout of “Protego!” then countered by slashing his wand in a vicious arc, but his new opponent leapt to the side with surprising agility. The fury was back, pulsating hot and heavy beneath his skin.
            In one fluid motion, Remus twirled his wand in a tight spiral, and directed a hex that rippled through the air, and blasted Severus full in the face. Dazed, but uninjured, he staggered for a moment, shaking his head violently as his mind was filled with an annoying buzz that drowned out all other sound. He saw Lucius start forward, clearly uncertain whether or not to step in. Lupin took the opportunity to point his wand at his bleeding torso, and in an instant the blood began to disappear as if being siphoned by an invisible straw. He was quick to counter Severus’ next attack. The potions master was outraged that the werewolf had seen fit to intervene before Snape had time to beat Black fair and square. “Meddlesome…cur.” He seethed, directing a bolt of golden lightening at the wizard’s feet. Remus danced just out of reach, and sprinted toward the thicket of trees, breaking through his own protective shields in favor of the forest’s dark camouflage.
            They were incredibly well matched. Lupin clearly favored strategy over brute force, unlike his friend, and was quick to disappear behind trees and rocks as soon as he’d fired, but was careful not to stray too far from their chosen arena. It was hardly a gentlemen’s duel anymore, but then again, those rules had been broken almost immediately. Snape was surprised by how gracefully Remus moved, weaving in an out, occasionally firing hexes in odd directions to distract him, then popping out to face him head on. It was a maddening strategy, but Severus had to admit that it was working. His heart was pounding in his ears, and his legs were beginning to ache. To his dismay, he actually found himself adapting more of Sirius’ strategy of firing hexes at the smallest sound. Shaking his head in an attempt to calm his nerves, he ducked behind an enormous evergreen, and waited silently. Sooner or later, his opponent would come to him.
            He was right. There was a flash of movement, and Remus darted swiftly past him, his patched robes flickering in the chilly breeze. Snape flicked his wand at a large gnarled tree root, causing it to lash out and trip the werewolf, who landed heavily on his stomach. Snape fell upon the wizard, turning him forcefully onto his back with his wand clenched between his teeth like a schoolyard brawler. To his dismay, he felt an alarming sensation as he straddled his opponent, which he tried to ignore.
“Do you yield?” He growled.
Lupin shook his head quickly like a nervous tick, and wriggled beneath him. To his horror, he felt his cock stiffening in his trousers and for a moment he prayed that the wizard would not feel it. Ultimately, this embarrassment caused him to weaken his grip, and before he could attribute this unlikely arousal to the heat of battle, Remus entwined his legs swiftly around his knees, and with a sharp twisting motion, flung Snape bodily off of him, and sprinted into the darkness.
            Growling in humiliation, Snape pursued him, firing hex after hex and becoming more aggravated with every miss. He was growing tired from his fight with Sirius, and could feel sweat breaking out across his forehead. “LUPIN. Come back here and finish this like a man!” Another stunning spell rushed toward him, but he ducked and it hit a tree, causing snow to dislodge from its branches and fall around them in tiny glittering particles, giving Severus the tiniest pang of deja vu. This was the second time he’d been surrounded by snow during a duel. A memory arose, unbidden, of perfect crystalline flakes settling into a long red braid. He paused to listen, and when he heard the faint rustling of fabric, fired a stinging jinx into the darkness. A hiss of pain rewarded him, and he knew he’d found his target. “I don’t understand…” He murmured with a scowl of frustration. “If you wanted to end the fight, why attack me?”
            There was a rustling of branches, and another stunning spell whooshed past him, missing his face by centimeters. Clearly Lupin was not interested in causing actual harm. Growing weary and frustrated, he decided to take a leaf out of Sirius’ book, and prod at his sense of honor.
            “I look forward to seeing your sister again, werewolf.” They were closer to the clearing now. “She made an awful din the last time I fucked her. Did you know that?”
The tree nearest to him exploded, sending wooden shrapnel in every direction, which he blocked easily with a shielding charm. Snape grinned sourly. It was working. He’d made him angry. “You can’t imagine how good she feels.” Leering into the dark foliage, he made an obscene gesture. “When I’m finished with you, I’m going to ruin her sweet, wet cunt.”
            “Incarcerous.” Thick black ropes flew out of nowhere, and before he could stop them, they wrapped around his body several times. He snarled with fury as he struggled against them, but he was too exhausted, and ended up slumped against another tree. He sighed wearily, and hung his head in defeat. “Is that a promise?” Snape stared about in wide-eyed horror. That was not a man’s voice. Freya pulled back her hood, and lifted the wooden mask, then gave him a tiny smirk before leaning in and pressing her hands to the tree on either side of him. Her cheeks were flushed from the exhertion, and her lips were cold when she lowered her head to press a teasing kiss on the tip of his prominent nose. “You really should have seen this coming.”
            Before he could respond, she ducked behind him, and pointed her wand at Lucius who gaped at her in shock, right as the stunning spell hit him square in the chest. Severus tried to hop rather absurdly after her, but tripped and fell. With a heavy sigh, Freya crouched down, and gently turned him over. Close up, he could see that her brother’s robes were far too large for her, and she must have taped down her breasts somehow. As far as disguises went, it was simple, but clearly effective. The hood had hidden her hair, which was tied back, not that he’d bothered to look properly before now.
He sputtered, so furious that he couldn’t even form words properly “Stupid…reckless…how….damn you, Freya.” She stared down at him heatedly, and bit her lip.
“More reckless than agreeing to a duel in the middle of the forbidden forest?” She gave him appraising look that made him cringe. “Turned out to be a good show, didn’t it? That thing you did, when you turned the branch into a spear? Sexiest bloody thing I’ve ever seen.” Her voice was breathless, and he felt a small stirring of arousal in spite of himself. Clearly, the duel had gotten her blood pumping as well. He stared up at her in shocked silence until she had the good graces to look slightly abashed. “I told you I needed to talk to Lucius.”
“Freya.” Snape muttered darkly. “When I get out of these ropes, so help me, I am going to…”
“Do what?” She lifted an eyebrow, clearly very amused. “Threaten me with a good time?” He closed his eyes, and let his head fall back against the frozen ground. Anger was still boiling inside of him, but he took several long breaths until he felt it finally begin to slip away. He’d allowed his emotions to get the better of him, something he’d always equated with weakness, and somehow, Freya had managed to beat him at his own game. “There was a way to avoid this, in case you’re wondering.”
            “A way to keep you from doing stupid, dangerous things? Enlighten me.” He drawled scathingly.
            “Next time, choose me as your second.” She replied, smiling at his stricken expression. “Look, I’ll cut you free, under one condition.” He gave her a penetrating glare.
“I mustn’t interfere, correct?”
“Precisely.”
“Fine.” He sighed wearily. “Cut me loose, devil woman.”
She swiped her wand in a downward motion, and the ropes disappeared. When he staggered to his feet and faced her, the light shone in such a way as to allow him to see the rather nasty, purple bruise across Freya’s cheekbone. “Shit.” He reached out to touch it, and she winced. “Please tell me I didn’t do that.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Then tell me the name of the dead man who did.” He whispered and leaned in to kiss her, but before their lips touched, she turned away.
“Not yet. I have work to do.”
            When they entered the clearing, Severus saw that both Sirius and Lucius were out cold, their breath making soft white clouds on the chilly night air. Much to his annoyance, Freya stalked immediately toward Sirius, and placed a hand on his neck, checking to make sure he was all right before turning her attention to the unconscious death eater, and murmuring another “incarcerous.” After making certain that Lucius was properly bound, she pointed her wand and whispered, “Innervate.”
            His blond head rolled as she bent down to prop him up against a tree, and when he opened his eyes, he pulled back in alarm, hitting his head against the trunk inadvertently. “Shh….shh….” Freya crooned gently, carefully removing his white mask, and placing a palm on Lucius’ forehead like a concerned mediwitch. “You’ve been hit by a stunning spell, but you’re all right. Here…” She pulled a flask from the pocket of her brother’s robes and held it to his lips. “This will help. Don’t try to move too much.” Lucius drank greedily, and Severus shook his head. Lucius, you bloody idiot, he thought. “There we are.” Freya said, not unkindly, before sitting on the ground before the groggy, but quickly reviving deatheater. “Now I know you’re just waking up, but I’d like to make sure my veritaserum is working.” Lucius’ head sprang up as if he’d been smacked in the face.
            “You…What are you doing here? What have you done?” He gasped. Freya smiled apologetically.
            “What is your name?”
            “You know perfectly well what my name is!” He spat, furiously. “Have you tied me up?” His eyes widened as he looked down at himself. Clearing her throat, she placed the tip of her wand beneath his chin, and tilted it up so he was forced to look at her.
            “Your name.” She repeated patiently. Lucius appeared to struggle for a moment, his face turning red as he fought the effects of the truth serum.
            “Lucius Malfoy.” He finally breathed.
            “And my name?”
            “Freya Lupin.” His voice was hard. “I will kill you for this.”
            “Lovely.” Freya withdrew her wand and began absentmindedly twirling it around in her fingers. “Lucius, why were you at the Locke the night of the massacre?” She asked as casually as if she were inquiring about the weather.
            “I…I was closing a business deal.”
            “Of what nature?”
            “The owner was in a great deal of financial trouble, so I offered to buy his establishment and…clear up his debts.” Lucius choked the last words out as if they hurt him.
            “Sean was in debt? To whom?” Freya frowned.
            “Foreign types. I never saw them. Your friend had quite a gambling problem.”
            “Did you kill him?” She asked this with a quit iciness that Severus had never heard before.
            “No. I apparated as soon as they began firing into the crowd.”
            “Deatheaters?”
            “No.”
            “Who were they? What did they look like?” Freya’s voice sharpened.
“I didn’t see their faces. One of them shouted something…not English.” He said lamely. Freya pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, then after a moment, fixed Lucius with a cool glare.
            “Why did you try to poison me?”
            “I…didn’t. The barman did. I saw him do it.” He chuckled cruelly, and then began to cough.
            “What?” She snapped, her eyes widening in furious disbelief. “Sean was a friend of mine. Why would he do that?”
            “I told you. He was in debt. I expect the people who wanted you dead told him to do it. Or perhaps he was under the imperius curse.”
            “Bollocks.” She whispered, running her fingers through her hair in an exasperated motion that Severus instantly recognized.
            “Your actions have not gone unnoticed, Freya. You’ve caused quite a stir since your return. The Dark Lord has promised a great reward to the one who brings you to him.” Freya snorted and actually rolled her eyes.
            “Add him to the list of my potential murderers then.”
            “Oh no my dear.” Lucius smiled patronizingly. “He doesn’t want to kill you. He wants to enlist you, and he has something he knows will interest you.” Freya’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but there was curiosity in her expression.
            “And what is that?”
            “ Barty Crouch Junior.” Lucius’ eyes glinted with satisfaction. “He offers you vengeance, my dear.”
            Freya did not speak. Instead she rose slowly to her feet, and pointed her wand at the deatheater, whose eyes widened with disbelief. To his, and Severus’ surprise, she flicked it, and the ropes disappeared. Before he could do anything, she placed the wooden mask back over her face, and said “Obliviate.” The memory charm hit him square in the face, and he blinked up at her, a completely bewildered expression on his face. Then he looked up at Severus, who strode over and helped him to his feet.
            “Severus? What happened? Is it over?”
            “Yes indeed it is.” Snape glanced over at Freya, who remained silent but nodded. “As you can see…” He motioned to the still unconscious Sirius Black. “I was the victor, but I’m afraid you were hit with a poorly aimed stunning spell.”
            “Ahh.” Lucius frowned suspiciously at Freya, eyeing the tattered robes with disdain. “I’m sorry I missed it. Well done, naturally.”
            “Give my best to Mrs. Malfoy.” Severus bowed politely, and Freya gave him a courteous nod. Still frowning, Lucius returned the gesture, albeit jerkily and with a look of disgust on his face, then turned on the spot, and apparated.
            “Freya…” Severus began, but Freya walked past him, and began attempting to haul Sirius to his feet.
            “I need to get him home. Then we can talk. ”
            Growling in annoyance, he stalked toward them, and hastily threw Sirius’ limp arm around his shoulders, drawing him to his feet. The tall wizard moaned, and his head lolled back, his mouth open. Severus rolled his eyes, but seized Freya’s hand as she turned to apparate.
            Sirius was drooling a bit when they dragged him inside Number 12 Grimmauld place. Trejgul met them at the door, purring loudly as he wound between their legs, nearly tripping them up. After several moments of awkward maneuvering, they dumped Sirius unceremoniously onto the drawing room sofa, and Freya flung a blanket over him.
            “He’s going to have one hell of a headache when he wakes up.” Freya mused thoughtfully. Snape snorted disdainfully.
            “Good. I hope it kills him.”
            “You don’t mean that.” Freya said with a tiny grin. Anger flared up white and hot inside of him.
            “Oh and he’s a favorite of yours now is he? I should have known.” He spat. Freya glared sharply at him.
            “This whole thing was a stupid idea and you know it.”
            “You shouldn’t have interfered. Or were you afraid I might harm that flea bitten mutt?” Snape cringed at the sullenness of his own voice. There was an absurd accusation lingering behind the question, but Sirius’ words during the fight had cut deeply. Freya looked at him for a moment, then actually laughed. He stared at her, struggling internally, trying to be cross with her, but felt a smile twitch unbidden at his own lips. She pointed her wand at the fireplace, and set the embers ablaze. Clearly convinced that Sirius was out cold, or else not caring who saw, Freya stripped the ratty cloak from her shoulders, and began unbuttoning the waistcoat while Severus stared. “What are you doing?” She pulled the overlarge shirt over her head, and he saw that she had, indeed wrapped her chest in a tightly wound bandage in an attempt to flatten her generous breasts.
            “This thing is so bloody uncomfortable. You have no idea.” She flung the shirt carelessly onto an armchair, and sauntered into the kitchen, struggling to unbind herself as she did. “Come on, let’s take care of those bee stings.” Severus reached up to touch his face and winced, not at the pain, but at realizing he must have looked frightful after being stung several times. He felt slightly dizzy as he followed her into the kitchen and watched as she pulled a tiny blue pot of salve from the cabinet, the bandages now far looser, but still keeping her modest. The room was dimly lit by a single oil lamp flickering on the kitchen table, and Severus studied Freya’s face in its orange glow as she applied tiny dollops of cool salve on each and every bee sting visible on his face and neck. The low throbbing pain of them vanished instantly, and he closed his eyes as her fingertips worked their magic. His muscles ached, but his skin tingled with every delicate touch.
            When he opened his eyes again, he frowned at the deeply purple bruise on Freya’s left cheekbone. He could tell it was recent, as it now glistened and appeared to have swollen significantly. Without really thinking, he reached up and gently clasped her chin, tilting her face so that he could get a better look at it.
            “Whoever did this wore a ring on his left index finger.” He observed. “I shall keep that in mind, since I doubt you’ll tell me who did it.” Freya did not reply, but her eyes fluttered closed when he leaned in, and placed a soft warm kiss on her temple. “I can smell pipe tobacco on your skin. You’ve been in a pub, but I doubt fisticuffs are encouraged at the Three Broomsticks. I deduce, therefore that you received this injury at the Hog’s Head inn. Incidentally, the man who inquired after you this morning is staying somewhere in the village.” Snape gave her a penetrating look as she fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat. “You went looking for him. Don’t bother denying it. I can see it on your face. Tell me, do you have a death wish?” He snatched the salve from the table, and began applying a generous amount on her injured cheekbone. It appeared to vanish with every stroke.
            “Not much gets past you, does it?” She placed her hand on top of his, and clenched it fiercely with a glint of wild determination in her eyes. Not for the first time, he was reminded of the night they’d met, when he’d thought her to be insane. “There are things you don’t know about me yet. I promise that one day soon, I will tell you everything, but not now.” She smiled warmly, then stood. “Tea? Or something stronger?” Snape followed her with his eyes, watching as she finally unrolled the bandages from around her ribs, and tossed them in the bin. She faced away from him, now topless, but still wearing men’s trousers.
The sight of bare skin sent a flutter of arousal straight to his groin, and he found that he was rather light headed. Before she could reach for her silk floral robe, which hung on a peg, he was behind her, smoothing his chilly fingers along the nape of her neck. Freya shivered at the touch, and tried to turn, but he held her fast, his hands firmly on her shoulders. Leaning in, he buried his prominent nose into her hair and inhaled her scent. She smelled of warmth and musk, of earth and pine trees. His lips fell upon the curve of her neck, and he gently suckled the sensitive spot, grazing it gently with his teeth, raising goose bumps along her flesh. “Something stronger.” He breathed, sliding his hands around her waist and cupping her breasts from behind. Freya made a tiny sound of longing as he caressed her, then gasped when he pinched a nipple sharply and spun her roughly around, his mouth crashing onto hers with the ferocity of a starving man. She groaned passionately into his mouth, and he delved deeper, so eager to taste her. His fingers sank into her hair, releasing it from its bonds so that it tumbled messily to her shoulders.
Blood was pounding in his ears again as their lips and tongues danced feverishly, and with a low rumbling growl, he reached around and cupped the swell of her ass with both hands, loving the small cry of pleasure that escaped her lips. She was trying to be quiet, not wanting to wake Sirius, but that simply would not do as far as Severus was concerned. He attacked her exposed throat with his mouth, nipping it sharply, then soothing the tiny injuries with his tongue. Soon she was clutching him, digging her nails into the back of his coat, wanting to tear it from him. “You’ve been so very bad, Freya.” He whispered in her ear, feeling her shiver against him. In a sudden rush of energy, he ducked down, and hoisted her bodily over his shoulder, laughing at her small cry of surprise. Still chuckling, he stalked up the stairs with his prize, not giving a damn how loudly his boots echoed on the hardwood.
“Which room is yours?” He demanded. Freya giggled, then squealed when he gave her bottom a sharp smack.
“The left one.” She said feebly. He grunted, and kicked the door open, taking three long strides and tossing her onto the bed before slamming the door shut and pointing his wand at it, muttering a locking charm. He did not bother with a muffling spell. If Sirius awoke, it would be to the hot and heavy sounds of what he considered a hard earned victory. When he turned back, she pounced on him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him hungrily. He chuckled against her lips, then gasped in surprise and arousal when she pressed him firmly against the door. “As I recall…” She muttered, giving his lower lip a sharp nip. “We had a bet, you and I.” He lifted an eyebrow at her.
“You bet that Sirius black would beat me.”
“And you were defeated. By his second, but defeated nonetheless.”
“Only because you cheated.” He scoffed. She smirked up at him and gave a tiny shrug.
“All the same…” She stepped back from him, and in one fluid motion, dropped her trousers to the floor, leaving her completely naked. His mouth went dry, and the clever retort he’d had prepared suddenly escaped him. He made to close the gap between them, but she stepped back, and seated herself comfortably on the large four-poster bed that took up the majority of the room. “You’re still wearing your coat. Remove it.” He lifted an eyebrow at her and felt a surprising rush of warmth. With a certain amount of trepidation, he slowly unbuttoned the garment in question, and peeled it from his body. “Your boots next.” Freya commanded softly. He stared at her, and a tiny burst of disbelieving laughter escaped his lips. She smiled lazily at him, and leaned back a bit, giving him a perfect view of her ample breasts.
“You’re seriously making me strip for you?”
She smirked, but said nothing. He hesitated, feeling the color rise to his cheeks as he bent to his task, then kicked the boots aside. Freya tilted her head to one side, watching him with obvious pleasure as she tapped her lips thoughtfully with the tip of her wand. “Please continue.” His eyes widened when she set the wand aside, and trailed one deft hand along the softness of her inner thigh. Heart pounding in his chest, his fingers flew across the buttons of his waistcoat, eager to pounce on his lover. “Slower.” She commanded in a dark, velvety voice. His breath hitched in his throat. He was not used to being ordered around in this fashion, and to his amazement, he found it utterly intoxicating. Snape’s eyes were hooded as he popped open each button one by one, biting his lip. Freya purred with anticipation when he tossed the waistcoat aside, and performed the same treatment on his shirt, noting the way her gaze followed his long sleek fingers.
“I have never been the object of desire, before.” He said softly, peeling the garment from his shoulders. It was quite chilly in the moonlit bedroom, and he shivered as Freya’s eyes raked over his slender torso, lingering on the dark sprinkling of hair that trailed downward beneath his navel.
“Nonsense.” She whispered huskily.
“Please let me touch you.” His body ached, but not from exhaustion. He yearned to feel her pressed against him. They had not been in a bed together since the night he’d mockingly referred to as their “wedding night.”
“Not yet.” Her voice was firm as she lifted a hand, and snapped her fingers. Snape gasped in surprise when he felt his belt tug free from his hips, and lash out, wrapping around his wrists, binding them snugly together in front of him. A surge of lust pulsated sweetly in his abdomen, and when he looked up, Freya had a strange glow in her pale blue eyes that made him shiver. She raised an eyebrow. “You’re cold.”
“Please Freya…” He panted, his chest swelling, his cock aching in his trousers. His knees felt weak, and they wobbled a bit when her lips curled into a roguish smile. She crooked a ginger at him.
“Come here.” Heat rose to his face as he moved closer to the bed, wary of this new sensation. He had never before relinquished control like this. “Hands behind your head.” She sighed, biting her lip when he obeyed, his abdominal muscles pulling taught as he gazed down at her, completely enraptured. Freya rose onto her knees, and smoothed warm hands up his spin as she leaned in and sucked gently at his mouth. His lips trembled when they parted, and she pressed deeper, tasting him with a pleasure that bordered on wantonness. Her hands deftly unbuttoned his fly, and she giggled into his mouth when her fingers found him, wrapping gently around his fully engorged manhood. To his astonishment, he actually whimpered pleadingly when she began to pump him with excruciating slowness. When she flicked her tongue over his own, he jumped slightly. “I love your cock, Severus.” She murmured with a sly grin. His breath hitched in his throat again as she withdrew him from his trousers and looked down at him admiringly as she sped up her motions, gently smoothing her hand up and down his shaft until a pearly drop of precum welled up from the tip.
“Freya…oh my god…”Whatever train of thought he’d had vanished when she lowered herself onto her belly, and took him into her mouth with a groan of pleasure that sent shivers down his spine. Her lips were so warm and soft as they caressed him, suckling him so sweetly. She took her time, lazily trailing her tongue along the underside of his shaft, taking each of his balls into her mouth gently, ever so gently, until she had him gasping her name. Her eyes fluttered closed as she made love to him this way, pleasuring him with her hands and the sinful administrations of her lips and tongue. His head lolled back in ecstasy, but it snapped up again sharply when he felt her readjust herself, and slowly sink her mouth over him, swallowing him little by little, pausing here and there to ensure she did not gag on him. She moaned again, and the sensation made him hiss with pleasure. Snape squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth hanging slack as she gulped around his flesh, her hot wet throat squeezing him sinfully as she inched forward, until finally the entire length of him was inside of her. His breaths became shorter and harder as she simply held him there. It took an enormous amount of control on her end, and he had to will himself not to buck his hips. In fact, he could feel his balls tighten as the steady approach of an orgasm began to ride. “Freya, if you’re not careful, you’re going to make me…” She pulled back, slowly, sucking him hard, and he groaned heavily at the sensation. His cock glistened wetly in the pale light.
Freya rose onto her knees again and reached up to tug at the belt that bound his wrists. It fell to the floor, and Severus wasted no time wrapping his arms around her, sliding his hands across her bare skin, eagerly delving between her thighs and feeling how hot and slick she was there. “Make love to me.” She whispered hoarsely. He shuddered hard at the command. It was so sweet, and he felt so wanted. This was not at all how he’d planned to take her, but that seemed so foolish now. She had won, fair and square, but Merlin, if this was how she wanted him, then he vowed to lose every duel from then on.
Freya stretched out onto the bed, her scarlet hair splayed out on the pillow beneath her head. Unable to keep a low rumbling growl of desire from escaping his lips, he smoothed her thighs apart, and grasped the base of his cock before slowly easing himself inside of her. They sighed in unison, and Frey began to slowly undulate beneath him, rocking her hips upward to meet him. He gritted his teeth, willing himself not to plow into her like a madman, then rested his forehead against hers, and gave a long slow thrust. The moan she emitted was like molten honey. The walls of her quim fluttered around him, and her nether lips made soft wet sounds as he squeezed into her, impaling her, filling her with his generous tool. When they kissed, she cupped his face with her palm, and he felt her legs wrap around his waist.
Moaning huskily, he rolled his hips in a deep, circular motion, massaging her clit with every penetration, making her gasp. Feeling emboldened by her wordless encouragement, he reached down between them, and began to stimulate her with the pad of his thumb, rubbing her gently as he rocked into her. When she came, her entire body stiffened, and a light sheen of sweat broke out across her forehead. It was his name on her lips. Severus felt his chest tighten with an emotion he had never expected to feel again. “Harder…please.” She whispered. He was only too happy to obey. Resting his elbows on either side of her, he quickened his pace, sinking deeper and deeper. She was murmuring his name like a mantra, her fingers digging into his shoulders, feeling the muscles rippling beneath his skin. His hands found her hips, and he held them fast, anchoring her as he plunged his manhood inside of her, pulling her body close with every thrust. When he felt the first tremors of orgasm, he nearly stopped, his eyes widening in surprise when Freya sat up and curled her fingers beneath his chin, feeling the faint stubble that dotted his jawline. His belly tightened. Her brow furrowed and she tilted his face upward to meet her kiss, and when he came, her lips stifled his shuddering gasps.
Panting heavily with exhaustion as well as emotion, he collapsed on top of her. He had never taken a woman this way before. Severus felt her fingers in his hair, her nails gently grazing his scalp. It felt incredible. When he finally rolled off of her, she grinned.
“You look awfully pleased with yourself.” He teased. She shrugged.
“I’m happy.”
He blinked, and felt that same pesky emotion clench in his belly. “I’m glad.” Then he paused, studying her profile. She looked so content, laying there in his arms that the thought of leaving her bed did not even occur to him. “What is this, exactly?” Snape found himself asking uncertainly. “What are we?” Freya shrugged again, closing her eyes.
“What would you like to be?” She murmured.
“I don’t know.” He confessed with a small frown.
“Then shut up and enjoy the moment, you silly man.” Her voice was soft, and she was smiling, but Severus thought he heard a hint of sadness there somewhere. Without another word, she rolled onto her side, facing away from him, and took his arm, wrapping it around her waist and holding his hand to her chest.
I love you, Freya. The words were there, sitting precariously on the tip of his tongue. He did not say them, a fact that would come to haunt him in the days to come.

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

The following morning was very peculiar for Severus. When he awoke, Freya was not in the bed next to him. Instead, Trejgul was curled up in the indentation where her head had been, and he was purring loudly. Perplexed, he played a quick game of “where did my clothes end up and how did they get there,” then pulled them on and crept quietly down the stairs, wondering if Sirius was awake and ready to blast him into kingdom come. Freya’s head popped out of the kitchen, and she motioned for him to join her. She had tossed on her silk robe and pajamas. He glowered at her, but inevitably followed, for the entire kitchen smelled marvelously of bacon.
            To his amusement, Sirius Black was propped up at the kitchen table and holding a very large poultice to the back of his head. He scowled up at him, then winced from the effort. Freya poured him a mug of tea, and gestured for him to have a seat. Severus frowned, feeling immensely sore from the previous night’s adventures, but he contented himself to watch as she bustled around the kitchen, assembling breakfast.
            “Are you a house elf now?” Sirius complained gruffly. Freya gave a little half smirk, then made a very crude jerking off motion with her hand.
“Oh very lady-like.” Severus said, snorting with amusement. Sirius glared across the table at him and looked as if he wanted to throttle him just for breathing the same air as him.
“You still take your eggs over-easy?” Freya asked without glancing up.
“Whatever’s convenient will do fine…” His eyes slid to Sirius who looked very annoyed indeed. “…darling.” He finished silkily. Freya looked startled for a moment, then turned back to the stove, blushing.
There was a faint knock at the door. Not wanting to get up, Sirius bellowed at them to enter, and a very frazzled Remus Lupin bounded in, looking angry enough to spit.
“Sit down. Eat something first, then you can reprimand me.” Freya said, not even looking up. Lupin gaped at his sister for a long time, then slowly sat down at the head of the table, clearly unable to think of anything else to do. She poured him a mug of tea as well, then flicked out her wand. Several plates flew to the table, one for each of them, as well as a large platter of bacon and toast and a small cauldron of porridge. They stared at her as she sat down. Then she began to laugh. “Eat up. You all look like shite.” Severus glanced around and realized it was true. All three men looked like they’d been on the receiving end of a small hurricane. His joints aching, he took a sip of tea, which was very strong, and did as she asked, deciding that arguing with her would not be in his best interest.
“And where were you, last night?” Sirius growled at Lupin, who looked up wearily.
“Where do you think?”
“Got you too, did she?” Severus drawled. Lupin actually gave him an apologetic sort of grin, which looked so much like one he’d seen on Freya’s lips that it startled him. For the first time, he saw a familial resemblance. It was unnerving.
“I’m afraid so. Hell of a stunner she used, too. I woke up in the same reading chair she left me in.”
“You looked like you could use the rest.” Freya mused. Sirius gaped at her.
“You’re a bloody harpy. You know that?”
“I’ll thank you not to speak to her that way, Black.” Severus said in a voice so low and dangerous that the two men actually stared at him.
“I’ll speak however I want in my own home, Snivellus.”
“Oh Merlin’s balls, will you two give it a rest, already?” Freya groaned, exasperated. “You three, shut up and eat. Right now, I’ll do the talking, and you will do the listening.” They stared at her, and she gave them a wry grin. “I’m moving out of Grimmauld place.” All three of them started, but stopped short when she nonchalantly placed her hand upon the table. Her wand was at the ready and they knew she would not hesitate. She had already proven that she was capable of beating each of them, and they were not keen to learn the lesson a second time. “I’ll be out of here by morning. I’m not going to tell you where I’m going so don’t even ask, but I’ll be close by. Yesterday, Severus informed me that he was paid a visit by an auror from the Sorceror’s district of Iceland. He has come under the pretense of placing me under arrest, which means that I am officially a fugitive. Over the next few days, you are going to hear that I am a killer, and a thief. Both of these are true. I killed Lucas Frend. I stole documents that will hopefully one day lead to the arrests of prominent witches and wizards. Nonetheless, I refuse to stay locked up. A prison is still a prison. I’m sure Sirius would agree. I am leaving. This is not up for debate.” Freya gave a great sigh before she continued.
“Last night I ruined your little duel. I’m not sorry. I had my reasons for doing it, apart from my own amusement, though believe me, it was incredibly fun…” Her gaze lingered on Severus. “Tonight, Severus will help me break into Hogwarts.” She paused here, and gave him a look of finality that told him it was best not to argue.
“And why will I do this?”
            She smiled in a way that did not quite reach her eyes. “We have a potion to brew.”
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Spy vs. Spy