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
- 32
- 33
Severus’ games were not having the effect he had intended. His ill conceived attempts to win her over were proving fruitless, no matter how many seeds he planted, forcing him to remember that he had never actually been in a proper relationship with a woman before. It occurred to him that the promise of sex simply wasn’t enough. Perhaps it had never been enough. There was some small hope, however. At least they were on speaking terms again, and her attitude had warmed to him considerably, though not nearly as warm as he would have liked. He missed her.

He’d burnt the divorce papers a month ago, and when he’d watched the flames lick at his signature, Severus had realized that he’d never truly meant to send them. It was all just posturing. Of course it was, but damn it all he was tired, and he wanted his wife back. His timing could not have been worse.
Dumbledore was keeping him busy, and keeping an eye on Draco was becoming a second job. Severus had actually meant to ask Freya if she’d accompany him to Slughorn’s Christmas party, but his courage had shriveled like a cobweb caught in a flame.

The growing tension of his position made him all too aware that he was standing on the brink of chaos, keen as a knife’s edge, and he was not alone. It was as if the entire world was holding its breath, and a miasma of fear would soon choke them all. Sooner or later, the Dark Lord would strike, and he would be forced to perform the task he had been given, but at least he had this. At least he had hope. It was small, and it was fragile, but there it was like a single candle in the face of a raging storm, and only he could protect it. Severus wondered idly if Freya knew.

He found excuses to visit Diagon Alley as often as his work would allow. More often than not, his only reward was a glimpse of his wife, who had taken a job at Flourish and Blotts. It was worth the trip. Occasionally he imagined that the shop was theirs, and they were a normal couple. One shuddered at the thought.

The usual, colorful bustle of the street was gone. Businesses had been boarded up or left to decay. Broken windows suggested looting, but no one bothered to clean up the glass. No one stopped for idle chatter, but instead walked briskly with their faces turned down. It was safer not to pause for conversation. Get what you need, then get out. Stay on the Main Street, and stop for nothing.

It was easier said than done. On every corner was a merchant of the seediest sort, peddling cheap wares, each claiming some sort of protection. A stunted wizard with a black tooth stepped in Severus’ path and dangled a very ugly brooch in his face. Before he could say a word of his practiced spiel, Snape plucked the brooch from his dirty fingers and tossed it over his shoulder. The wizard gave him a very rude gesture, but Snape had places to be.
It was not an entirely selfish desire to see her that drove him to this place. Witches and wizards were disappearing every day, and while Freya was formidable, she was far too well known. The average snatcher might not take their chances, but when the time came for the Dark Lord’s more fanatic followers to take the streets, she would be targeted. He had to see with his own eyes that she was still there, still tangible, and still breathing.

There was some small comfort, however. Although Freya’s face had been plastered across the daily prophet more than once, it seemed her position provided more of a disguise than even his best polyjuice. Apparently the idea that the notorious witch would work in a bookshop was simply too outrageous for most minds to accept, and so she had yet to be truly noticed. Or perhaps it was simply that the average witch or wizard had moved on and Freya was old news, but who would have thought that hiding in plain sight could be so effective?

The first time he’d made the journey he’d discovered that her hair was becoming unmanageable, and she’d shorn it close to her scalp on the right side, where he knew much of her hair had been singed from the battle at Malfoy manor. The rest was left to grow into wild, twisting ringlets. He’d often wondered why she hadn’t used a charm to regrow her once vibrant tresses, but knew better than to ask, as it had most likely been cursed off. Upon seeing the patched up state of her clothes however, he’d had a word with the manager, a perpetually exhausted wizard with brown hair and a bleak expression.

“How much do you pay your shop witch?” He’d muttered. When the owner replied, Severus’ mouth became twisted with disdain. “So little? From now on, whatever I order from you will be paid for twofold. You’re going to take whatever is left, and give it to her at the end of her shift for a job well done.” Here he’d given the man a hard look that left no room for argument. “You will not tell her where the money came from. You will tell her to buy warmer clothes.”

Now he approached the twisted little bookshop with some trepidation. It appeared uncommonly busy for the end of June, and Freya was quite alone. Not long ago, the shop had been overflowing with books. Shelves had sagged with the weight of them. Books were stacked into towers that nearly touched the ceiling. Beautiful, wonderful books. Now it was jarring to see so many of those shelves completely empty.

The bell jingled when he walked in, but Freya was frantically trying to juggle between taking customers at the register, writing down orders, and speaking to a harried grey haired witch who appeared to be growing more and more upset as Snape made his way to the counter. She glanced up at him but he couldn’t tell if she was exasperated with him, or simply overwhelmed.

“I’m very sorry madam, but we ran out of copies last week and we don’t expect another shipment until Tuesday.” Frey said in a tone that always sounded very strange to Severus. It was her professional voice, the one that all shopkeepers must perfect to preserve sanity and to keep wily customers complacent. “If you’d like, I can try to reserve a copy for you.”

“I only want ONE copy of Jinkthes and UnThavoury Heks . They wrote about it in Witch Weekly! The December issue,” the customer added as though the last bit was helpful. “It has a green cover.”

Severus fought back a grim smile as he pretended to peruse a display of quills. The witch was speaking to Freya as if she were a simpleton.

“MADAM. I assure you, we’re out. I know this, because I stock the shelves myself.” Freya sounded a bit less nice and Severus could actually hear the old witch puffing up with indignation.

“Well surely you could check in the back room?”

Freya handed a stack of books to the customer in front of her who was actually paying and replied sweetly, “I could do that. I certainly could step into the back, and look at the mops for a minute before telling you again that we ran out of copies last week. I could waste everyone’s time.” She smiled brightly at the next customer. “But I won’t.”

The witch turned a ruddy scarlet, and began to sputter like an overfilled kettle. Severus finally decided to come to her rescue. He held out a copy of Jinxes for the Jinxed so close to her nose that her eyes crossed.

“Forgive me madam, but the book you requested went out of favor before my grandparents were born. This contains many of the same principles, but thoroughly updated and far more effective.”

Freya looked at him then, and a lock of red hair fell in front of her eyes. She did not appear as grateful as he would have liked. It no longer surprised her to see him there, and the spark of distrust had not left, though he liked to think he was slowly bridging the gap. The older witch spat something quite rude about “young people” and elbowed past Severus, clutching her shawls angrily as she stormed out into the street. Several other customers shook their heads and Freya blew the lock of hair from her eyes.

Severus watched her ring up the others, entertaining himself by alphabetizing a shelf or two, simply to make himself useful. When she finally had a moment, she leaned an elbow on the counter and stared at him with amusement.

“Can I help you sir?”

“You can tell me why you haven’t stepped inside Hogwarts for almost a month.” He grumbled. It was an old argument. Hogwarts was safe for the time being. Surely she could spend her free hours there, protected by wards more powerful than any Madam Rosemerta could conjure. If all went to hell, he would take her to Spinner’s end, though they’d need to do something about Pettigrew, whom he’d started thinking of as his ‘rat infestation.’ Her answer was always the same.

“Because I work in a bookshop.” She hissed, then immediately smiled brightly at another customer, who looked at Severus and said rather sheepishly,

“Are…are you going to buy that?” He pointed at the book Snape was still holding. Then suddenly he realized why the shop was so busy. Everyone was brushing up on their defensive spells now that You-know-who had returned. He relinquished the book immediately and watched the transaction with growing impatience.

“Where is your manager this fine evening, Freya?” He purred, watching her skin flush a little. Leaning an elbow against the counter, he flicked back his hair in what he hoped was a rakish manor. “And why are you dressed like a little fish wife?” Another old game. Severus loved to tease her, and he was learning to love it when she teased him back.

“Dragon pox.” She mumbled with some reluctance, pointedly ignoring the jab at her outfit.

Snape lifted an eyebrow. “Then he won’t mind when you close early.”

“Unbelievable,” she shook her head, eyes rolling to the ceiling. “You’re trying to get me fired.”

Snape leaned in close. “I could make it worth your while.”

She stared at him as if he’d suddenly sprouted another head. “Are you flirting with me?”

He pretended to inspect his fingernails. “Is that so surprising? I like flirting with you.” His dark eyes regarded her keenly, though he tried to appear casual. “Have dinner with me.”

This, apparently was the last thing she’d expected him to say. She actually blinked in astonishment.
“OI!” A sharp voice interrupted. A blonde witch in a feathered beret snapped at him. “Didn’t anyone teach you not to chat up witches who are on the clock? She’s being paid to be nice to you, you know!”

“Merlin’s beard.” Freya’s eyes rolled to the ceiling, then back to him. “I’m closing in two hours. Then it’s an hour before curfew. You can wait around. Or don’t. But my time will cost you.” She eyed him dangerously.

“Oh I think I can handle any challenge you throw at me, witch.” Snape threw up his hands in mock surrender, then stepped aside and began leafing through a copy of Spellman’s Syllabary while eyeing Freya the entire time, a small smirk gracing his lips.
To his great annoyance, the blonde witch appeared to be a bit of a hypocrite as she immediately began flirting with Freya, who did not appear displeased by the attention. Severus saw the way the witch’s fingers brushed against hers when she paid, and caught the sly little grin when the books were handed back over. Freya glanced at him and smirked. More teasing. Jealousy stirred inside his belly, but he willed it away and pretended to read. He had to prove to her that he could change.

Freya’s hair grew wilder as she perspired, and he enjoyed an excellent view whenever she bent over to retrieve new parchment to record fresh orders. This return to normalcy had added several healthy pounds to her figure, and good lord he wanted to bury his face between her soft, luscious-

His book snapped shut in front of his face, almost close enough to nip his nose. Freya was staring up at him with her hands on her hips. He sneered down at her, thinking how shocked her patrons would be if he pushed her to her knees and unbuttoned his fly right there and then. But no, he wanted more than that. He wanted to press her against the shelves and kiss her lips again and again until they were plump and bruised and then he would kiss them again.

“You’re in my way.” She hummed, reaching past him to grab something from the shelf. He could smell her perfume, warm and spiced. His fingers twitched, wanting desperately to touch her. “You know, I might not be able to read your thoughts but I can still sense them. Not everything is about your cock.”

He chuckled darkly, but inwardly he winced. “Perhaps not. Say what you will, but I am still a hot blooded wizard, and you cannot deny that our particular chemistry is…unique.”
Making sure no one else was watching, he leaned down and gently grazed her forehead with his lips. “One that I believe will never be found with others.”

Freya sighed, pulling away. “You’re still on about Charlie. Believe me, I remain properly humiliated.”

Snape tried not to grin. Several months past, she had attended a quidditch match with the Weasley boy, and Severus had watched with great interest as Freya had left in embarrassment.

“What did he do exactly? Should I hex his pretty face off?” He couldn’t help but be curious and more than a little triumphant.

“Of course not!” Her eyes flashed angrily. “He was a perfect gentleman. I just didn’t realize it was a date.”

“Then it wasn’t. Weasley is a fool.” Snape’s lips curled in satisfaction. His fingers lifted her chin and he found that she was pouting ever so slightly. The words he knew he needed to say bubbled somewhere in his mind. Once before in his life, he had flung himself to his knees and begged for mercy, apologizing for his deeds and pledging himself so that Dumbledore would save his Lilly. This time was different. The suspicion that creeped behind Freya’s pale eyes was almost worse than Dumbledore’s disdain. He wanted to tell her everything, about Draco, about his promise to the headmaster and everything it entailed.

“Any idiot can see he’s infatuated with you.”

Freya frowned at him. “I see that now, but I simply don’t feel that way. I didn’t mean to lead him on. Truly. I feel awful about it.”

Instead he chuckled mirthlessly. “My god, what a silly minx you are.”

She snorted. “I thought I was a fish wife.”

“An adorable fishwife.” He intoned softly.

She blinked, somewhat surprised by the compliment. “That isn’t going to work.”

He reached up and tugged playfully at the lock of hair that had managed to escape into her eyes again. “It won’t stop me from trying. You know what I want.”

“Yes you want to lock me up, safe and warm and unable to do harm,” she sounded bored. “Well I’m not on the Dumbledore payroll anymore. I’ve spent enough of my time in captivity thank you very much.”

He leaned in close, his hot breath tickling her cheek. “Hardly. Come home with me and I’ll leave you so satisfied you’ll never feel the need to leave my bed.” Feeling courageous, he pressed his lips to her cheek. A chaste kiss as far as kisses go, but he felt her lashes flutter and she swallowed, hard. She pressed the book firmly against his chest.

“Not good enough.” There was a sincerity in her voice that stung. She turned to shelve something that an idle customer had left out. He reached out an arm, blocking her from moving further. Almost immediately, he retrieved the arm, realizing his mistake when she gave him a look that told him he was about to lose the limb entirely. He sighed and rubbed his eyes for a moment to collect himself.

“I’m trying to win you back. What must I do? Is there a dragon somewhere you want me to slay for you?” His heart was pounding, but he bid himself to remain still. His intentions were pure, as far as Severus Snape could be pure. He did want to keep her safe. The trouble was, he understood. Freya had finally pried herself free of a life of espionage. In fact she had earned it. Who was he to deny her a shot at a normal existence ?

“Ice cream.” She replied simply.

His mouth fell open. “You’re joking.”

“Oh I’m deadly serious.” Her eyes narrowed. “I know you’re not going to simply admit that you miss me, or apologize for the horrible things you’ve said, or stop replacing real emotional connection with fucking. So please buy me an ice cream.”

“There’s a bloody war on.” He was not ready to address the way she’d dismantled his emotional repression with less effort than stirring a cauldron.

She shrugged. “Chocolate. Or black raspberry.”

“And you’ll move in with me?” He asked hopefully.

“No, silly.” She reached out and touched the end of his large nose playfully and he could actually feel himself blush with embarrassment. “It’s called a date. Do you remember dating? You go somewhere. You sit. You talk.”

“Unbelievable.” Snape growled incredulously.

“Chocolate. Or black raspberry.” She repeated slowly to emphasize importance. “If there’s going to be a regime change, we might lose ice cream forever.” Her face grew comically serious. “Severus. What is the death eater’s policy on sweets?”

“Don’t joke about them.” He snapped. “You don’t know who’s listening.”

“Follow me.” Freya crooked a finger and beckoned. Still stunned by the odd turn in conversation, he did as he was told, watching her hips sway as she walked, adjusting fallen books and tidying up as she went. She pointed at a wall of cookbooks, which was still overflowing, untouched by the desperate masses. “I’ve looked through most of them. Did you know that seventy percent of British chocolate comes from Africa?”

He lifted an eyebrow at her, genuinely amused by her sudden fervor. “Fascinating, but I fail to see the relevance.”

“The import of foreign goods is regulated by British Customs. Tariffs. Money. Trade agreements. Like the department of magical cooperation, but for muggle things?” She explained when he gave her a puzzled frown. “Anyway, the muggle market is constantly fluctuating, and not just chocolate. Coffee, iron, tobacco. Anything that isn’t grown or produced right here on this tiny island must come from somewhere else. It’s terribly boring stuff. I won’t pretend I truly understand it.”

“I have no idea where you’re going with this.” Severus loved the way her eyes flashed conspiratorially.

“Muggles,” she whispered. “The ministry of magic doesn’t bother with trade agreements on chocolate. Muggles are in charge of the chocolate, Severus. My darling. What happens if You-know-who wipes out all the muggles?”

Snape actually covered his mouth to conceal his growing smile. “No more chocolate ice cream?”

“No. More. Chocolate.” She prodded him in the chest with each word. “No more quick cure for all those dementors floating about. Chocolate is no longer a luxury. It’s an essential food. Its fucking medicine. So the chocolate supply gets choked. Everyone becomes utterly hopeless. The dementors starve. They turn on their masters. Unless your friend Bellatrix is eager to take up an office job, the chocolate is doomed. You see? We will win no matter what. We could just lie around and let economics defeat you-know-who.”
“I think you’re just trying to get me to buy these cookbooks.”

“Do you want one? Or ten?”

“No thank you. I now plan to buy as much chocolate as possible so that when the time comes, I will control the market and become king of all I see.”

Freya gasped. “That is so evil.”

“You’ve just given me the key to your heart. If I control the chocolate, you will see me as a hero and stay with me so you can sleep on a mountain of sweets.”

“I already see you as a man.” She sounded amused, but slightly frustrated. “Why do you want me to see you differently? You know what I think this is?You have no idea what to do with yourself so you come here looking for a quick fuck because that’s easier than-“

“Hush.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Enough. You tell me to leave you alone and I shall. Otherwise I’ll thank you not to cast such aspersions on my character.”

Freya bit her lip. There were things they needed to talk about that were far too dangerous to discuss in public. “I’ve injured your pride. I’m sorry for that.”

He felt a sudden wave of anger. Clenching his teeth, he glowered darkly, and he saw her actually take half a step back. “Damn my pride. If it weren’t for my pride we wouldn’t be in this mess. If I had simply trusted you, before…I can’t even speak of it. Freya. If I had been honest with you, when I found you in Iceland…” His guilt was palpable.

“Stop.” She held up a hand. “Not here. What’s done is done. There’s no going back.” Her eyes became wide and strange. “I am done playing Dumbledore’s little games. I have chosen a side and I will stand tall here. What I want to know is, have you chosen yours, Severus Snape?”

“Is my loyalty in question?” He growled dangerously.

Freya pursed her lips. “Let’s just say that I’ve been asking myself something. How well do I know you?”

Before he had a chance to answer, the front door slammed shut, causing the bell to jangle violently. Freya jumped, and Severus’ wand hand snapped to attention. A loud, brutish voice rang out.
“Attention everyone. No need for alarm. My name is Officer Dawlish. I come from the Ministry of Magic.”

Freya hissed and grabbed Snape by the lapels. “Shhhhiiit. You can’t be seen with me.” She began to drag him through the winding shelves of books.

“FREYA LUPIN you are wanted for questioning. Make yourself known IMMEDIATELY.” His voice grew louder as the shop hushed. Every customer had frozen in place, and was too busy staring at the square jawed auror to notice them creeping to the back of the shop. Soon there were murmurs bubbling from the nervous customers.

“Fuck. There goes my anonymity. Hide in here and stay quiet.” Freya had pushed him through a beaded curtain into a small, dimly lit office. “If the ministry sees us together they’ll try to take you too.” He tried to argue. She placed a finger to his lips. “Don’t make me petrify you.”

He snarled after her, knowing that she absolutely meant it. Still, he put his back to the wall and watched through the beaded curtain, his wand at the ready. The ministry was getting more desperate every day, and he knew that although Dumbledore had stood in the way of her arrest, Freya was simply too juicy a plum for them to ignore. It surprised him however, that they would send only this lone auror and not several.

He aimed his wand carefully. Dawlish was an easy target, if the need arose. A simple confundus perhaps, or a memory wipe if things grew out of hand.

Freya’s body language changed dramatically as she approached Dawlish, somehow making herself seem smaller, like less of a threat.
“May I help you sir? Ah,” she feigned a look of polite recognition. “We meet again, officer!”

“You are wanted for questioning.” Dawlish barked alarmingly, though Severus thought he could see a faint blush creep across the Auror’s cheeks.

She feigned a look of terror. “Merlin’s beard has something happened?” She placed a hand on the auror’s bicep. “Please tell me the school is still safe?”

This appeared to confuse Dawlish. “I’m here to collect you.”

“Oh!” Her eyebrows shot up. “Forgive me. I had assumed the minister would have sent his best to protect the students.” Careful flattery. Severus snorted. “If the minister wishes to see me, a letter would have sufficed.”

“No need.” Dawlish snapped. “Minister Scrimgeour’s orders.”

“And you have a subpoena to that effect?” Freya asked a bit too loudly, so that the customers would hear the question. Snape smiled grimly. If the ministry wished to bully her into compliance it would have been wiser to do so without witnesses.

Dawlish shifted uncomfortably and Snape knew that Freya had found the weak spot that she needed.
“Your papers are in question. All foreigners are expected to have a work visa.” These words sounded rehearsed.

Freya chuckled. “Oh is that all?”

Dawlish moved as if he was going to grab her by the wrist, but she turned swiftly and beckoned him to follow. To Snape’s alarm, she began to lead him to his exact location. Thinking quickly, he ducked behind a wooden cabinet and muttered a disillusionment charm, rendering himself almost but not quite invisible.
The beaded curtain clacked loudly as Freya pushed her way through. Dawlish followed, uncertainly. It was clear that he thought he could easily overpower the witch if she tried to run. Snape kept his wand ready.

“I have a copy of my birth certificate here somewhere…” Freya tucked her hair needlessly behind her ear and bent low, giving the auror just a glimpse of cleavage as she rummaged through the drawers of a small oak desk. “There we are!” She produced it. “I was born in St. Mungos. I know the accent tends to throw people off. Oh! And here’s a copy of my duel citizenship papers. I keep them on me at all times.”

Dawlish looked utterly befuddled. This was not at all how he’d expected this to go. “You’re still wanted for questioning.”

“Of course! I completely understand, but you see, I’m the only person working today and I simply can’t leave.” She placed a hand on Dawlish’s large shoulder. He towered over her, but suddenly seemed to shrink back as she purred. “Without a subpoena, I’m afraid it’s just not possible.”

“Scrimgeour said-“

“A clerical error perhaps? I’m sure the ministry simply overlooked it, but between you and me…” she leaned in close. “It wouldn’t look very good for you to take in a native citizen without a warrant, now would it? It might even cost you a job if say the papers were to find out?” It was a dangerous bluff. The ministry was becoming more reckless every day, desperate to make progress now that the dark lord had returned. If Dawlish was secure about his position and willing to take the risk, he could have seized Freya and apparated directly to London.
Something glimmered in the auror’s eyes that he did not like, and clearly Freya saw it too for she took a step back and crooked her fingers, about to draw her wand.

Confundus, Snape thought, pouring his energy into the spell.

Dawlish blinked stupidly, and a strange sort of hazy expression wiped his face blank. “I’ll…I’ll need to take these in.” He snatched the papers from her hand and glanced at them.

Freya smiled broadly. “Please do. I have copies.” Dawlish grunted and made to leave, but Freya could not resist one last quip. “I couldn’t interest you in a cookbook, could I?”

The auror growled something inaudible, and his footsteps could be heard all the way to the front of the shop. Severus held his breath until he heard the front door slam shut.
Freya closed her eyes and sighed deeply with relief. Snape banished the disillusionment and in two long strides, moved close behind her. She whirled on him, startled, but he didn’t care. His lips crashed over hers, desperately tasting her. He felt her melt in his arms, and she hummed pleasantly. His hands found the hem of her skirt, but she slapped them away, giggling.

“Severus it’s alright.”

“Come home to me.” He breathed.

“No.”

“You got lucky. This time.” Anger was bubbling inside him again. Or perhaps it was panic. “And only because I was here. Wizards have been disappearing for months for questioning.” His lips found her neck and she moaned softly. “They won’t have you. Not my witch. I won’t let them.”

“I’m not your witch.” She growled.
He kissed her again. And again. It felt so good to touch her. Snape could feel desperation curl tightly in his belly and oh gods his cock was painfully hard. Somehow he’d managed to back her against the wall. Her eyes fluttered closed as he pressed against her.

“You are. And I’m yours.”

“You bloody…”she pushed him none too gently “SLYTHERIN. You broke my heart, remember? I’m still trying to get over you and here you are all tall, dark and…” she pushed him once again for good measure.

He captured one of her wrists and kissed her closed fist. “Go on.” He purred. “Tall, dark and what? No witch in her right mind would call me handsome.”

“Arrogant?”

“Hmm.” He kissed her wrist this time, lingering devilishly on the sensitive flesh.

“A complete pain in my arse?”

“Well, only if you’re willing,” he drawled.

That won him a smile. “That’s crude, even for you.”

“Come back to hogwarts with me. You’ll have the full security of the castle and access to the library. You won’t need to worry about money. Just come home. You’ll stay in my chambers. Keep working here if that’s what you want, but give being a wife a try. You can even redecorate if you’d like.”

“Oh so that’s it? You want me to be a good little house maid and iron your socks?”

“Damn you that’s not what I meant and you know it!” Severus hissed between clenched teeth.

“And what happens to me if you get the call? Shall I Stand at a window and clutch my shawls until you return? Oh I don’t think so.”

“You’re impossible!” Severus ran his fingers through his scalp.

“Welcome to married life, husband.”

He seized her shoulders and stared down at her. “Say that again.”

“Which bit?”

“Call me ‘husband’ again.”

“No. I was making fun of you.” She frowned.

“I don’t care. It warms me to hear you say it.”

That seemed to win her over a little, even though she tried very hard to look cross with him. “You know what? I think there’s a big soft heart underneath that grim, stubborn shell.”

“I don’t want you to fight anymore. I don’t want you in danger. Not ever again. If that makes me soft, so be it.” Snape pulled her close again. Freya buried her face in his shoulder and held him for a moment.

“Hush. I have no intention of going anywhere. I don’t think it matters what we want. Something’s coming, Severus. Something bad. I can feel it.”
The effect was like someone had dribbled icy water down the back of his neck. He rested his forehead against hers, fear gripping his throat. Draco’s face floated behind his eyes. So young. So frightened. A pawn in this game, just like he was. Warm fingers touched his jaw, and he was looking into those eyes again. “I know you know something Severus. You won’t tell me what it is?” She asked softly.

“I can’t.” His voice cracked.

“Because you don’t trust me?”

“No, because I do. Freya…” he hesitated, and considered his next words carefully. “Freya, do you remember when you told me that you would have done anything to protect me? Even if I despised you for it? There are…” he hesitated, forcing himself to look into her eyes, which were currently flooded with concern. “…things I cannot tell you. Things I physically cannot tell you. Do you understand?” She nodded, but he could tell her alarm was growing. “Please listen to me. At some point in the future, possibly very soon, you are going to hear things about me. Things that might change the way you see me. I am not a good man.”

“You’re not a bad one either.” Freya smiled sadly.

He sighed. “Before we met I had nothing to lose.”

She pressed her lips to his so gently, and heat rippled through him once more. “Do you really regret it? Meeting me?”

He winced. Perhaps he had hoped she would forget the awful things he’d said when she’d given him the divorce papers, but alas. “No,” he admitted. “But I’ll admit that it complicates things.”

“I think I’m alright with ‘complicated.’”

“Freya, please try to understand,” he sighed, feeling furious with himself “My life…my purpose has been clear to me for a very long time. I am not a man who is used to being ruled by emotions. I make calculated decisions and I plan every step of the way. Or I did. Until I met you.”
He hesitated then brushed his fingers against her cheekbone. “You live by your heart. That’s something I have never been able to even conceive of. You are a bundle of chaos, and ever since you entered my life I have been swept up into it, and my god, it has shaken me. Somehow, you have managed to pry inside of me and rearrange as you see fit. Occasionally I resent you for it. The safety of always knowing what to do is gone, but to my ever increasing astonishment, I’ve found that I love it. I love not knowing. But now the whole world is chaos. Things are in motion that cannot be undone and I am realizing that the only thing in my life that makes any sort of sense at all, is you. You make sense to me.” Freya gaped at him and he realized he’d actually rendered her speechless.
“I realize I cannot force you,” he continued “no matter how much I might wish to. But I ask you to reconsider. If you’ll let me, I will take you to my home at spinner’s end. It isn’t much, but I can offer you safety and comfort. I am not a rich man but I promise you will want for nothing. If it’s normalcy you crave, then here it is. You have done enough. Let the war rage on around you. Be a painter again.”

She smiled at him, then bit her lip. “I’ll think on it.”

“That’s all I ask.” Severus realized he’d been holding his breath and he sighed with relief. Finally, a step forward.

“Come on then.” She smirked. “Help me close up. I think Rosemerta keeps a stash of icecream somewhere.”
They made quick work of things. There were not many books left to organize after all, and the sight of the tall, dark wizard tidying the shelves seemed to have an effect on the remaining customers, for they suddenly seemed a bit too eager to make their final purchases. Freya sighed with audible relief as the last witch hurried out the door and she was finally able to close the blinds with a flick of her wand.

Severus sidled close behind her as she pulled the register and began counting the day’s profit. His fingers slipped through her tangled hair, and moved it aside, exposing her pale neck. She paused.

“Trying to distract me?”

He chuckled softly in response and dipped his head to plant a slow kiss on her nape, feeling her shudder. His breath was hot and his lips deliberate. “You count far too slowly.” Severus found the edge of her sweater, and began to caress the small of her back. In spite of the chill, his fingers were warm. His breath tickled the shell of her ear. “As soon as I am able, I’m going to dress you in silk.”

She snorted, and closed the register with her hip, then turned to face him. “Do you really think I want you to spend your hard earned galleons on me?”

Snape snarled with frustration and ran his fingers through his hair, noting the way her eyes watched the movement. “What do you want, exactly? A little cottage by the sea? A brood of fat children? What can I possibly do to appease you? I’ve offered you my home!” It was the wrong thing to say. Those icy blue eyes began to shimmer alarmingly.
“Fuck. Freya tell me what to do. Please. I’ve never…never…”

“Never WHAT?” She demanded

“I’ve never been with anyone. Not properly. Not for any real length of time.”

Freya looked surprised at this small confession, then hesitated. “I want an apology.” She murmured. “For the things you said in the hospital wing. And for threatening me with divorce when it’s obvious you never really wanted one. But I want you to mean it. And asking for someone to mean an apology is stupid, because you can’t exactly help it if that’s not how you feel.”

Snape stared at her for a moment, then actually laughed. “Sweet Merlin, you’re infuriating.” He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright. Here it is, then.” His lips found hers, so soft and warm and inviting. It was reassurance that he craved, as he considered his next words. He encircled her waist with his arms and held her there against the counter, feeling her melt just a little. When he finally saw fit to release her, he found that her eyes were still closed. “Freya, I’m sorry. The things I said were unforgivable, and cruel. You didn’t deserve them, and if I could swallow them back up and take all the hurt they’ve caused, I would do it in a heartbeat. If you doubt me, please look into my mind. I promise I won’t stop you.” He kissed her again before she had time to reply.

To his shock, Freya reached up, and yanked his coat open, sending several buttons flying. He made a small sound of surprise but to his delight it became smothered with a furious kiss. Her hands were tugging at his trousers clumsily and oh gods her fingers were wrapped around his stiff flesh, so firm and earnest that he groaned huskily into her mouth. She released his lips with a gasp and he rested his forehead against hers as she stroked him, so painfully slow that his hips bucked. “Am I to take it that I’m forgiven?”

“Look at me,” she purred. “I know you’re feeling guilty about what happened in Iceland. I don’t care ” Before he could protest, she gave his cock a sharp squeeze, making him gasp and unable to think clearly. “When I was a prisoner, there was not a single moment, not one moment, where my mind was not filled with thoughts of you.” She touched the side of his face and to his alarm, he felt a suspicious prickling behind his eyes. “I would have spit in you-know-who’s eye if it meant keeping you safe. So I understand. Look at me, you silly man,” she chided, for he’d suddenly found himself unable to meet her gaze. “I love you. And it may mean nothing to you, but I promise you this. I am done with secrets. To you, I have none.”

He lifted her bodily off the floor and sat her on the counter, fumbling between them until his aching cock was pressed between her legs, with only the thin cotton barrier of her panties stopping him. Unable to form the words to fully express what he felt, he drew his wand.“Expecto patronum.”

Sparkling blue light filled the book shop, and from the tip of his wand burst not a shimmering doe, but a silvery white fox. He had no way of knowing when the change had occurred, but the day he’d discovered it, during a demonstration for his first years no less, he’d been every bit as shocked as his students.
Freya watched it with wide eyes as it bounded playfully in a wide arc above their heads, then pounced on an invisible prey before bursting into tiny stars that were gone as suddenly as they’d appeared. It was enough. She gasped as he suddenly moved her panties to the side, and slid himself into her fully.

“You are mine. And I am yours. Always.”
*************************************
They apparated to the Three Broomsticks, still drunk on each other. They didn’t care one jot about curfew, and were easily able to avoid being detected by any lone aurors prowling the streets. It was now dark, and so was the pub, but he kissed her hard, and often, loving the way she giggled as she struggled to open the door.

He wanted more of her. All of her. Damn the war. Damn Dumbledore. Damn the unbreakable vow. He would whisk her away with him, tonight. He would take her far away, to America if need be, and once he’d accomplished his black task he’d return to her. Let the dark lord come for them himself. Surely MACUSA would give them sanctuary. So many plans, each more foolish than the last, unfurled in his mind as he followed her up the steps to her apartment, feeling almost giddy.

He couldn’t stop kissing her. Pressing her urgently against the wall, he felt her nails gently dig into the back of his coat. Pure heaven. He never wanted her taste to leave his lips. He wanted to be numb from so many kisses. She tasted of chocolate.
To their surprise, Florean Fortesque’s icecream parlor had been simple enough to break into. The man had been arrested a few days ago, and though she’d hesitated to partake in such a petty crime, he’d felt quite suave indeed, luring her into the shop with kisses and promises of icecream. They’d carried on like mischievous teenagers, laughing and smushing icecream in each other’s faces. It was a night he would cherish.
Freya shushed him, still giggling as she unlocked the door of her flat.
“Sshhhh Tonks is sleeping!”
But she wasn’t sleeping. Quite the opposite. There was a loud shriek, and Freya turned suddenly, shielding her eyes with a gasp of alarm. A flurry of flesh colored movement, followed by a clumsy thud and a muffled curse. Instincts flaring, Snape’s wand was in his hand, and expecting an attack, he pushed Freya behind him, shielding her with his body. The lights flickered on. Freya’s doing.

Severus was horrified to see Remus Lupin, stark naked on the floor, a tangle of limbs and messy brown hair. “Fucking hell!” He started to laugh, a deep throaty sound, and he lowered his wand to clutch at his ribs.

Freya peeked over his shoulder and gasped sharply, her face burning bright red. “Merlin, COVER YOURSELF UP!”

Lupin scrambled about until he found some scrap of clothing to hold over his groin, but not before Severus saw with increasing alarm that Remus Lupin was enormous and the sock he was using to conceal himself was doing a pitiful job. He laughed harder. Freya didn’t seem to know what to do. Tonks was clutching a couch cushion to cover her breasts, making a sound that was somewhere between sobbing and laughter.
Lupin finally managed to pull a pair of trousers on backwards, then stared at Snape with horror and mounting anger.

“YOU!” He growled, cheeks still red with humiliation.

“You.” Snape repeated, raising an eyebrow. It was a bit difficult to take Lupin seriously with his trousers on backwards.

“Listen, Snape…it’s not what you think.”

Snape’s sneer was full of the deepest disgust. “Spare me. As if I’d care about your rutting.”

Freya stepped around him, tapping her lips thoughtfully with her wand as her face flushed with embarrassment. “Is this why you didn’t want to help me move in, Remus?”

Lupin had the good grace to look humiliated as he swept up his undershirt from the floor. Tonks’ face was buried in her hands.
“Oh my god Tonks you silly bint,” Freya was taking off her cardigan and draping it around her friend. “Your room is right there!” The laughter died on her face as Tonks’ shoulders began to shake. “Oh! Darling it’s alright! You just surprised me is all!”
This appeared to have the opposite effect she intended and Tonks began to cry in earnest.

“Good lord, is he that terrible?” Snape could not resist the slight against his old schoolyard enemy.

“YOU. I’ve told you a thousand times to stay away from my sister.” Lupin growled dangerously.

“Don’t change the subject Lupin. It’s beneath you,” he drawled.

Frustrated, and looking for a way to ease his own embarrassment, Lupin whirled on his sister. “Why must you keep doing this? Bringing him back into your life? After what he did?”

“I love him.” Freya shrugged. Severus felt his chest swelling with pride to hear her say it with such ease, as if she were simply commenting on the weather.

Lupin scoffed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling, but Tonks wailed piteously. Lupin turned to her, suddenly deflated, helpless and unable to quite make himself look at her. Freya looked confused, and Snape gave her a wry, knowing glance. Then she understood a little.

“Oh for gods sake, Remus.” She shook her head.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Lupin held his hands up in surrender. “I know. We’ve already discussed it and it cannot continue. No need to lecture me.”

Freya stared at him. “Why not?”

Remus’ face contorted strangely. “You know why not.”

Tonks was trembling, and she threw her arms around Freya, sobbing into her shoulder , utterly dejected. Freya stroked her mossy brown hair, and looked at Lupin with disgust.

“I thought we talked about this! Remus, you don’t do this to someone. Toying with someone’s heart like this…it’s wrong and you know it.”

Snape snorted. “I imagine your brother was thinking with the wrong head.”

Lupin started angrily again but Freya’s wand was in her hand, and with an annoyed flick, she disarmed her brother before he could even think about casting a jinx. Tonks sobbed.
“Enough of that.” Freya was staring at her brother with a look Snape could not quite place. Tonks sobbed even louder, and Freya hushed her, stroking her back. Lupin had the good grace to blush.
“I don’t…I’m sorry.” He stammered. “Tonks, I…”

“You know how she feels about you!” Freya snapped. “Why didn’t you tell me, Dora? You know you can tell me anything! I wouldn’t have minded!”

“ I asked her not to.” Lupin grumbled.

Tonks sniffed loudly, then rubbed at her eyes. “It’s been him the whole time. All those blokes I’ve been bringing. He usually takes polyjuice when he comes here.”

“Oh my god.” Freya’s eyes widened with fury. “Remus Lupin, I should hex your bollocks off.”

“I…I was…”

“Ashamed?” Snape finished for him. “Embarrassed to be seen with her after you’ve broken her heart?” They stared at him in shock. He shrugged.

“I was trying to be discreet! Forgive me if I don’t wish to tarnish the reputation of a respectable young woman! Dora please, you know how it needs to be.” Lupin pleaded.

“All this time you’ve been criticizing me.” Freya snarled. “You bloody hypocrite.”

“It’s not the SAME!” Lupin ran his fingers through his hair. “Snape is a bastard, but he’s not infected! Dora, please. You know we can’t be together. Not that way. I’m sorry.”

“That hasn’t stopped you from fucking her, has it?” Snape drawled.

“And what would you know you greasy git?!” Lupin started angrily, his fingers twitching, ready to hurt Severus, wand or no wand. “All that snide talk of divorcing my sister, but here you are, reeking of her. You’re just as bad as I am.”

“If that werewolf snout is so bloody keen, then why don’t you…” Freya stopped when Tonks shook her head at her, silently begging her not to say more. “Oh my god Tonks, is he…?” They shared a look between them, communicating silently in that way that only women do. “Dora does he know?” Freya glanced back at her brother.

It was strange to see Tonks shrink in on herself as if she could somehow disappear. “I can’t.” She whispered.

“Dora,” Freya took her hand gently. “I’m here. I’m sorry, but if you won’t tell him, then I will. He needs to know. He deserves to know, even if he’s being a prat.”

Lupin twitched violently, his nostrils flaring like a mare ready to flee. “Tell me what?”

There was a horrible silence as Freya regarded her brother carefully, reading his face, and recognizing the tension in his body language. In her captivity, she had been surrounded by werewolves, and had learned to pick up every minuscule shift of behavior, as a matter of life and death, and now her brother was an open book.

“I think you do know.” Freya murmured. Snape actually took a step forward, instinctively in case he needed to get between them. “What, did you think ignoring it would just make it go away? It’s all right Dora. I’m here for you no matter what. Go on. He needs to hear it from you.”

“I’m…” Tonks choked, then stared up Severus of all people. “I can’t. I don’t even know for certain…I haven’t seen a mediwitch to confirm it.”

“Say it.” Lupin commanded with shocking coldness. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m pregnant.” Tonks whispered.
Snape’s mouth fell open as Lupin threw back his head and actually howled like a wounded beast. His arms fell to his sides in defeat as Tonks wailed. Freya was glaring daggers at her brother, livid and horrified by this reaction.

“Go on. Feel sorry for yourself,” Severus snapped cruelly. “Heaven forbid. A beautiful woman has chosen to love you over every other man, would do anything for you, and now carries your child.” He was surprised by his own bitterness. “Worried you aren’t up to snuff?”

Lupin swung at him then, but was instantly repelled by a well timed shielding spell from Freya, who then turned to wipe the tears from Tonks’ face.

“I for one can’t wait to be an auntie.” She looked as though she was already planning to knit tiny socks.

“NO!” Lupin howled, then whirled on Snape again. “You have to do something. Please, a potion. Something.” Remus actually fell to his knees.

Tonks gasped as if the very breath had been taken from her. “No. I don’t care if you’re not ready to be a father. This is my baby.”

It was Snape’s turn to cast a shield spell as Freya lunged for her brother, armed with a sock she had found on the couch. “I’m going to kick your hairy arse Remus Lupin! That is her decision and you know it!”

“Pathetic.” Snape muttered.

Lupin looked ashamed. “This can’t be. Dora, my kind…we don’t normally breed! What if it’s cursed?”

“Bloody coward!” Snape snarled. “Didn’t think of that while you were pumping her full of seed, did you?”

Remus sank, defeated. “Dora. Forgive me. You know how I feel about you. I only want you to be happy.”

“Then be happy with me!” Tonks yelled, sounding a bit like herself again.

“Remus, so help me…” Freya’s eyes rolled to the ceiling as if she needed a moment to stop herself from throttling him. “Dora. My brother is an idiot. Your baby is going to come into this world safe and loved. Curse or no curse. Even if I have to help you raise it myself.” She rubbed Tonks’ arm fondly. “Are you hungry? Any odd cravings? I can pop down to the kitchen for you.”

Severus shook his head, marveling at this show of hufflepuff loyalty and love. Freya couldn’t seem to hide her excitement at the prospect of a new little niece or nephew.
Lupin began pacing, much like a caged dog.
“This can’t be happening. It’s too much. I’m not ready.” He whirled on Snape again, and seized him by the lapels. “Help me! Help me take her away then! We’ll hide her, somewhere out of the country! Please!”

Snape felt a cringe, hearing his own desperation mirrored in Lupin’s voice. He tried not to look at Freya.

Tonks stood then, not caring that she was completely naked apart from Freya’s cardigan. Snape averted his eyes as she placed her hands on her hips. “Remus Lupin I am a highly trained auror and you will not be sending me anywhere!”

“Look at me Dora!” He pointed at his own patchwork robes. “I can’t afford a child!”

“Well I can!”

“Give it up Remus. She’s made up her mind and I for one don’t blame her.” Freya interjected wearily.

“Ohh yes take her side!” Remus threw his hands up. “This is just like you.”

“Side?” Freya shook her head. “Remus, you’re my big brother and I’ve always looked up to you. But today, for the first time in my life, I’m ashamed. This isn’t about choosing sides.” She looked up at her brother with a small, sad smile. “There are so few of us Lupins left, Remus.”

“And what about you?!” He snarled at Severus, who smirked darkly.

“If you’re any sort of man at all you’ll bloody well marry her.” He said simply.

This was not, apparently what anyone had thought Severus Snape would say, but Lupin’s behavior had irritated an old wound. Severus knew only too well what it was like to be an unwanted child. He snorted and then looked at Freya, who smiled gratefully.

“Is this what Christmas at the Lupins will be like?”

Freya choked back her laughter. “Will we be expected to bring pudding? One shudders at the thought.”

Lupin looked as if he might tear his hair out. Snape rolled his eyes at him.
“Might we I remind you Lupin that there’s a war starting? The child will need protection. If you cut and run, you will have two highly trained spies, and an auror coming for your hide. And I will not be the one you need worry about.” He held out a hand to Freya. “Come, love. Let’s leave the werewolf with his blushing bride-to-be.”

She curled his fingers with his.
“Back to the castle, then?”

If his heart could have sprouted wings and taken flight, Snape had no doubt it would have. As he threw his arm around her he gave Lupin a final, meaningful smirk. Let him try to keep him away from her now.

They barely made it down the stairs. Severus was about to say something about getting a stiff drink when he felt it. Searing pain, so terrible and familiar burned his forearm like a white hot brand. He clutched it instinctively, and suddenly Freya was holding him, brushing his hair from his face.

“No…not now.” He pleaded.

“Severus what is it? What’s wrong?” Freya’s eyes were rounder than dinner plates and he realized he’d sunk to the floor, his forehead dotted in sweat.

“No…time.” He gasped through gritted teeth. “Help me up…please.”

She held him close, and allowed him to use her body as leverage. When the world stopped spinning, he fumbled with his coat sleeve, pulling it up and gasping with relief as the dark mark was exposed to the chilly air. It was never usually this painful. The tattoo writhed, bulging and undulating sickeningly, the snake oozing from the skull’s open jaws.

“Oh.” Freya murmured in a small voice.

He pulled away from her, panic gripping his heart. “The brooms. Freya where are the brooms?”

“Here.” She reached behind the bar and tossed one to him, then began to grab one for herself.

“NO. Freya you can’t come with me.”

“I won’t leave your side again.” She retorted angrily.

When he kissed her, it was hard enough to bruise. “You can’t. Wait for me here. I’ll come for you I swear it.”

“Don’t go.” There was real fear in her voice. She had never seen a summoning before yet somehow it seemed she knew that this time was different.

“Freya I will come back for you. Don’t follow me. I love you, you silly witch.”

“Severus please.” She touched his arm but he recoiled, feeling that burning pain again.

“Wait for me.”
*************************************

It was cold. So cold. The wind touched him with the fingers of a corpse.

“Avada kedavra.”

And Dumbledore was falling. Falling. Falling. It should have been silent. Such moments surely call for silence, but no. The wind whipped his face, his clothes, his hair. It whistled through the astronomy tower, and the pendulum never stopped ticking.
And he felt nothing.

The tip of his wand erupted with an eerie green light, bursting high into the air. It illuminated the faces around him. Cruel faces. Fenrir Greyback’s black eyes glimmered strangely in its glow, and the dark mark swirled above them, staining the clouds.

There was a sound, so harsh and clear, slicing through the wind. Bellatrix was cackling, holding his arm like a lover, leading him gleefully into chaos, shattering windows as she did. The dark mark glowed an ominous green above. It was done.
At least Freya is safe, he thought, remembering the words Dumbledore had spoken. The pact was complete.
His fellow Death eaters blasted the door in and together they flew down the spiral stairs, cutting down anyone unlucky enough to be in their way. The castle was finally beginning to wake up to confusion and horror.

There was a commotion in the corridor. A rogue spell hit the wall inches from his head but he hardly cared. The Order of the Phoenix had arrived, and to his dismay Tonks stood with them, her hair wild and pink again. Hadn’t he just seen her? Hadn’t he just watched her plead with such vulnerability? Seeing Bellatrix on his arm sent the auror into a fury. She cast a deadly torrent of wasps that flew at them, angry and buzzing, but Severus turned them easily to ashes. Yaxley leapt between them, baring his teeth, and Severus did not dare try to stop him. Tonks growled his name ferociously, but too late.

A skirmish ensued in the main entrance hall, but they had the element of surprise on their side. Redheaded Weasleys seemed to be popping up everywhere. Someone screamed. Fenrir Greyback was clawing at someone. The sound nauseated him, making him think of another cold black night with fangs in the dark.

There was a smell like meat burning, but still they pressed on. Still cackling, Bellatrix led them outside into the midnight chill, dancing with an eerie victory, like a little girl, twirling her skirts in a field of death. The castle was coming to life behind them. There was shouting and wailing. Screams of horror at the terrible mark he’d left, is jaws still grinning from a starry canopy. Dumbledore’s body had been found. It was done.

The night exploded into sudden brightness and intense heat. It made him wince in alarm, but he managed a wry grin for their benefit. Bellatrix had set Hagrid’s hut ablaze. The flames licked at his skin, the smoke billowing to frame the castle beyond. Then he heard a voice. The last voice he wanted to hear.

“Sectumsepra!”

An old hatred boiled inside him as he blocked the spell as easily as swatting a fly, his wand disturbing the sparks from the fire like drunken fireflies. He pushed the others on.

“I will deal with this. Report to the Dark Lord. I will follow.” He stared down blackly, almost laughing at the look of rage and betrayal on his face, but the feeling was sour. Just a boy. Only a boy. “You dare use my own spells against me Potter?”

“He trusted you!” Harry was weeping, so furious and ready to kill Snape where he stood. For a moment, he almost considered letting him have a go. Surely that would be far simpler, and besides, Dumbledore was already gone. He brushed the thought aside immediately. Snape disarmed Potter easily and felt that old hatred again. He looked so much like James.

“If only your wretched father could see you now. Pathetic. Weak.” He sneered down at his student. Harry screamed out again.

“He trusted you! And you killed him!”

“What a foolish little boy you are.” Snape laughed cruelly. “Run on back to the school, Potter. Do not make me use force.”

“I’LL KILL YOU!” The boy screamed, his voice raw and broken.

“Harry get away from him.”

No, he thought, panicked. Anyone but her. He felt the blood leeching from his face. No, please. I can’t face her. I can’t do this.

Potter tried to scramble to his feet but Freya reached down and seized him by his collar. “DO AS I SAY! RUN!” But he didn’t run. He stared at her, at the angry tears running down her face. Freya held out an arm across Potter’s chest, but whether it was to protect him or Snape was unclear.

She had changed into battle garments, blood already dripping from a deep gash along her forearm, oozing red down to her fingertips, but she gripped her wand securely. A broomstick lay discarded at her feet and he knew. She had come looking for him, thinking to save him, to fight with him against the invaders, only to find Dumbledore’s broken body instead, and now she saw the truth. It was written on her face. Her hair glowed orange in the light of the fire and it reflected in her eyes, so wide with something Severus could not have described.

A scream tore from her throat and the sound of it split his heart in two. She whipped her wand high in an arc over her head, and he knew the spell would have shattered every bone in his body but he cast a shield just in time. The spell lashed across it like a lightning strike, pushing him back. His boots dragged into the dirt with the force of it, kicking up soot.

“It is done, Freya.” He yelled over the roar of the flames. “Dumbledore is dead.”

She screamed a hex in a language he did not understand, but it was wild and unfocused and he blocked it easily, but when he did, it ricocheted and hit Potter square in the face. The boy crumpled like a paper doll.

He laughed mirthlessly. “A stunning spell, my love?” Something far nastier whizzed past his ear, and he smelled burnt hair. “There’s my girl.”
Again and again she hexed him, her tongue twisting around the spells with added venom, but there was heartache too.

“You’re a MONSTER.” Another hex. “A LIAR!” Another. He blocked them all, but did not retreat. She came closer with every spell but he deflected every one. He couldn’t move. He could only stare into her face. “Every word out of your mouth! A LIE!”

“Can’t kill me, Freya?” He asked softly.

She was shaking with fury but the sobs broke free. Suddenly she was not attacking with magic. Instead she pummeled his chest with her fists, then clutched at his lapels. “Come…away with me. Please. Leave with me.”

It nearly broke him, to hear those words. “I cannot.”

“We can be free of this. We can go. Please.”Her lip trembled. He reached out a chilly hand and swiped it gently with the pad of his thumb.

“It’s too late. We had our chance and we missed it. I will never be free of what I’ve done.” He turned, and began to turn away from her.

“What are you talking about?” Her hands held his face for a moment, but he pushed her away and she fell to the ground.

“It’s over now.” It tore his heart in two to turn from her, but he heard her leap back to her feet.

“Face me.”

He kept moving, feeling like if he did not, he too would fall.

“Don’t make me hurt you Freya.” He could feel a stinging in his eyes.

“Turn and FACE ME you coward!”

Something struck his shoulder, hard but it was not a spell. She had thrown a rock. Snape loomed over her, and his next words slipped through his teeth in a guttural hiss.

“I killed Dumbledore. I cut him down like a weed. That mark is my handiwork.” He pointed at the castle, and the terrible specter that grimaced from above. “I’m a death eater, Freya. You knew that. You’ve always known.”

Her face grew pale, even in the glow of the fire and for a moment she shook her head in disbelief. “You’re a liar.”

“Not this time.” He did his best to sneer down at her, the flames flickering in his dark pupils.

“So you’ve chosen a side? You chose THEM?” Her whisper was barely audible above the crackling flames.

There was bitterness on his tongue, but his mission was not yet complete. “Yes.”

“Severus wait. Please…” She sounded as if she were trying to reason her way around what he’d told her. “Please just talk to me.”

But he did not turn. He could not bear to face her.

“Severus Snape.” Freya’s voice was hard now, and terribly cold. “If you choose to leave with them…I’ll find you.”

“I know.”

The last thing he heard before he apparated was the sound of Freya falling to her knees.
************************************
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