Even Death Eaters have their weaknesses. Even the evil give in to temptations. Even the dark seeks out light.
After a brutal punishment from The Dark Lord, Cassiopeia seeks out fellow Death Eater Severus Snape. She's in desperate need of aid. But t...
Yaxley was being cornered by a towering irate Severus. The blonde held his normal pissed off glare. Not that this was a time to look amused, but the man never smiled. Unless he was drunk of course. As it was, he was indeed very sober, especially with a long hooked nose all up in his personal space.
"Why did you bring her here?" Severus grunted, pinning Yaxely between his body and the brick behind him.
"I wanted to relay a message to her. A matter of urgency." He groaned.
Silence...........
Severus arched a brow, waiting.
"Well? What was this urgent message?" He insisted, urging him on.
"I'm sorry Severus but it's buisness between her and I." Yaxely said as sternly as possible.
"I think you made it MY buisness as well, when you splinched her and nearly caused her FUCKING DEATH!" He roared thunderous.
Yaxley flinched wiping the spittle from his face. "Fine, Alright! Travers and I have been....
"Yes, yes. I know. Keeping tabs on Pius and the Ministry. Go on." Severus interrupted.
"We overheard Runcorn and Dawlish talking about Lucius Malfoy. He's due to receive The Dementors kiss on the eve of the morrow."
Silence ensued again.
At the other end of the narrow side street, Cassiopeia was setting on an overturned fruit crate, once again mending her new cloak. She was really starting to get the feeling she wasn't meant to wear the new attire. It was simple enough to siphon the blood and muck from the fabric, and just as easy to repair the tears; but as she examined her corseted laced robes beneath, she noticed tiny fragments of wood that hadn't been there before.
The staircase! Of course!
No wonder her tooshy outweighed the pain in her elbow. The splinters were still embedded in her bum!
This should be fun.
Her powers, strength, vitality, and emotions were back at there full working capacity, her body singing with the need to exploit her magic. But the human body still needed time to heal after such a traumatic ordeal. However, she wasn't beyond trying to remove the shrapnel by her lonesome. Severus had already done so much. Not just once, but twice! And should she seek his services again; she wouldn't be able to explain the need to be bent over in his lap.
Poor Luicius. He probably thought the two were humping each other like rabbits right now, while he rotted his Aristocrat self away in Azkaban like a starving mongrel.
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She stood from the crate where she was setting, a stringy pot bellied rat scrambling across her booted foot. She stamped at it, chasing it away into a pile of discarded banana, apple, and orange peels atop a pile of rubbish. Done with her little jig, she turned her middle, reaching and aiming her wand at her buttocks. She kept turning. Aiming. Still turning. Aiming. Her body now twirling in a complete circle, her good arm reaching over her shoulder.
