Aviemore, Scotland - August 28, 1994 - The Spy
Aviemore, Scotland - August 28, 1994 - The Spy
The cabin where Albus Dumbledore lived was as cosy as it was peculiar. It was situated on a secluded hill near Aviemore, surrounded by a landscape of heather stretching to the horizon. The crackling of the fire in the hearth seemed to set the rhythm of the conversation about to unfold between its two occupants.
Severus Snape sat rigidly in an armchair beside a worn wooden table, frowning at the steaming cup of tea Dumbledore had placed before him.
“It is a rather particular tea, Severus.” said Albus calmly. “Flowers gathered near Loch an Eilein. I believe it might help you relax.”
“I doubt it.” Severus replied curtly, not touching the cup. His sharp tone made it clear that, had he had a choice, he would not be there. “I hope you haven't brought me here merely to offer me tea, Headmaster.”
Dumbledore let out a quiet chuckle as he stirred his own tea with a silver spoon. “Always so direct, Severus. Though, if I may, I think you would enjoy these conversations more if you allowed yourself to be carried away by the occasion. But you are right, the tea is merely a secondary detail.”
Snape did not reply, his dark eyes fixed on the fire in the hearth. Once again, he found himself thinking of her, and it irritated him immensely. Six days had passed since their last encounter, and although she no longer visited him in his dreams, he could think of nothing but seeing her again. Why couldn't he simply let it go? With every passing minute, he was certain she had bewitched him.
The sound of the wood crackling filled the silence between them, pulling him back to reality as Dumbledore spoke again.
“The attack in Devon, at the Quidditch World Cup…” Albus began gravely, setting his cup down on the table. “A tragedy which, though inevitably stained by violence, raises more questions than answers. And one of those questions, Severus, is why you were not there when it happened.”
Snape raised an eyebrow, looking at him irritably.
“I do not recall my presence at the attack being mandatory. Nor did I receive any sort of memo from my former associates, if that is what you are implying.” Snape despised the suggestion that he had re-established ties with them.
“Oh no, no. Not at all, Severus. But I cannot help but find it curious. As we discussed previously, the Malfoys invited you to their tent. You were to go and see if they were engaging in any sort of recruitment, and yet, you were not seen at the campsite at the time of the attack.” Dumbledore's gaze remained calm yet perceptive. “And that makes me wonder why you were not there when it happened.”
Snape huffed in irritation and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Being at the campsite would not have changed anything. The attack was meticulously planned, as you well know. But if you insist on details, I have been told that the Malfoys fled the scene, so they were not part of the attack either. As for myself, my duties that night took me elsewhere."
Dumbledore tilted his head, his blue eyes gleaming with the same intensity they always held when he was about to unravel a mystery.
"And how far from Devon did those duties take you, Severus?"
A moment of tense silence followed. Snape finally picked up the teacup, though more to have something in his hands than out of any genuine interest in the drink.
"What matters…" he continued slowly, as if weighing each word, "...is that I know what happened."
Dumbledore did not respond immediately, allowing him to continue.
"My informants were clear. A group of hooded wizards wearing masks, just like the Death Eaters. They caused chaos by setting fire to tents from other countries, and then attacked Muggles near the area. My sources were aiding the burned victims and saw one of them conjure the Dark Mark. A gesture meant to instil fear, no doubt."
"Indeed" murmured the Headmaster. "Which only leaves us with the question of why you were not there," Albus replied in a softer yet no less inquisitive tone. "You know all this because you asked those who helped afterwards, not because you witnessed it. And I wonder, Severus, what distracted you?"
Snape pressed his lips together, leaving the teacup untouched on the table.
"Do you distrust me, Albus?" Snape asked with a hint of sarcasm. "I thought we had moved past that stage years ago."
"Of course not. But I distrust your silences and those with whom you spend your time, not you, my dear friend." Dumbledore replied with a faint smile, though his gaze remained piercing. "Besides, if it were irrelevant, you would not be so reluctant to share it."
Severus finally looked at him, his black eyes shining with resignation.
"It does not matter. " he said at last, though his tone suggested he knew he would not escape so easily. "But if you must know, I spent that night in Mayfair. Far from the attack. Far from Devon. Far from everything."
"In Mayfair?" Dumbledore repeated, though his voice conveyed curiosity rather than surprise. "An interesting place for someone who always prefers to stay off the social radar. And what—or who—took you there?"
Snape turned his gaze back to the fire, his expression as closed off as a fortress.
"Katya." he murmured after a long silence. "I was with her that night."
For a moment, Dumbledore’s expression was unreadable. Then, he leaned back slightly in his chair, nodding in slow and deliberate consideration.
Severus felt as though he were being interrogated by a father about the misdeeds of a wayward son. The situation was so absurd that he could barely contain a grimace of exasperation. Since when had his private life become anyone else’s concern? Was his behaviour now subject to scrutiny as if he were a reckless youth rather than a man who knew exactly what he was doing?
The very insinuation irritated him, the mere thought that anyone could believe he would be foolish enough to sell his secrets for a single night of pleasure. He was neither a careless boy nor a fool blinded by desire. His life, his loyalty, and his silence were not for sale. That they questioned him, that they even considered the possibility, was an insult.
"Ah." was all Dumbledore said at first, letting the weight of the confession settle in the air. "Her again. She does seem to come up rather often in our conversations."
"If your interrogation is over, Albus, I would like to leave." Severus said brusquely, rising from his seat. But Dumbledore raised a hand to stop him, and the man sat back down, irritated.
"I will not judge your reasons, Severus." he said in a calm voice. "But I do hope you remember that even the smallest missteps can be used against you. Keep your guard up, especially now, when the past seems intent on rising once more. We do not know Miss Borislova’s true intentions."
"She is not a threat." the professor murmured, thoughtful. "I believe she is here because she is being forced to be."
"Has she told you that?"
"No. Her friends were there that night, aiding the wounded—even the Muggles." he told him. "When they reunited with Katya, they kept insisting she should leave the country. They were even angry at the Malfoys for fleeing. They are not supremacists." he explained, thinking aloud. "She was… afraid."
"Fear is not a good companion in troubled times." Albus replied. "Will you see her again?"
Snape did not answer. He simply gave a stiff nod.
"Then ask her, become her confidant. Remember, she has full access to the Malfoys' movements, and that way, we can determine if they are once again... associating with your former allies."
"No." Severus said, now looking at him directly. "I will not use her."
"Well... as I see it, you will not. You will simply continue strengthening your relationship with her. Isn't that what you want, dear?"
Severus truly did not know what he wanted. He did not wish to hurt Katya, but he could not afford to trust her blindly either. At least, not the person she had become—the woman now living in London, working for the Malfoys, navigating with ease among the Ministry of Magic's power circles. Katya had changed a great deal in just one year, and that transformation raised more questions than answers.
She was no longer the same young woman with whom he had exchanged long letters, the one he had considered his friend before they had admitted their feelings for each other. At the assemblies, Katya had been reserved and observant. Now, however, those attributes had turned into something more, something that allowed her to be there, to be seen, and to gain the trust of those around her.
Severus trusted the Katya of the past, the young woman with whom he had shared secrets written in ink and parchment. But the woman he had lain with just days ago... she was an enigma. She was still Katya, yes, but something about her had changed, and the uncertainty unsettled him. What was she seeking in London? Why had her father sent her there? What were her true intentions? And, more importantly, would her presence ultimately bring trouble?
"What do you know about her father? Pyotr Borislov." The professor asked. "She has... she once told me that her father was dangerous, that no one could refuse him, and that he craved power."
Albus sipped his tea delicately.
"I do not know much about the man, but I can find out more." the headmaster said. "I do know that the Borislovs are one of the wealthiest and purest families in Russia. They have spent years marrying within other pure-blood families of Eastern Europe to keep their lineage untainted."
"They work with Muggles, in their company." Severus objected. "Katya even studied alongside them."
"Well... then you must learn more." the old man replied. "Find out the real reason behind their business, why her father wants her here, and let the encounters flow, Severus." The man rose from his seat and went to the kitchen, retrieving a small box from a drawer. It was a sky-blue box, which he handed to Severus. "Loch an Eilein flower tea. Use it for your next meeting."
Severus nodded, and just as he turned towards the door, about to leave, Dumbledore's voice reached him once more, soft yet firm.
"The Dark Lord will return, Severus." he said slowly. "We must be prepared, dear. Prepared and without distractions—keep that in mind."
Without looking back, Severus left the cabin, vanishing into the darkness of the forest. Dumbledore remained by the fire, lost in thought, as the Scottish night slowly descended upon the hill.
Dumbledore hated having to do it, but he had no other choice. Reminding Severus that he had to forget his life—the one he could never reclaim, the one that would never have a replacement—was a necessary cruelty. He could not afford the luxury of compassion when the fate of the wizarding world depended on decisions like this.
He knew Severus was interested in the woman. In fact, he found it comforting to think that, after so much suffering, Severus might find a glimpse of happiness in someone else. But reality was different—she would only be a distraction. A misplaced piece on the chessboard, they were forced to play. And to defeat Tom Riddle, to ensure the war tilted in their favour, they could not afford mistakes.
The next day, the professor rose early and planned the day. Diagon Alley was quieter than usual that morning. Severus walked with firm strides, his black cloak brushing against the cobblestones as his eyes scanned the surroundings, as if searching for something—or someone—in particular.
His idea was to wait for her outside her workplace and ask to meet again. For what purpose? He did not yet know, but since they had spent their first night together, Severus had begun to feel anxious when not near her. He felt as if he were acting wrongly, like an obsessive or an addict. He feared that Katya would reject him and, in doing so, they would finally be even after what had happened in Vienna.
He stepped into a new café in the alley, opposite Gringotts Bank, and waited. The waitress was surprised to see him, as she had once been a former student of the school. In fact, she attempted to start a pleasant conversation with him, but he was curt, and the young woman could only manage to recommend the seasonal coffee.
The young woman did not take long to emerge, likely for her lunch break. Katya Borislova stepped out of Gringotts' entrance dressed like a true office worker, wearing a white blouse, a black skirt, and a dark blue cloak draped over her shoulders. Her black hair was gathered in a messy bun, and she clutched a folder against her chest. Severus wondered if this was how she used to dress in Moscow, when she worked at her family's company and they had exchanged letters.
Suddenly, the young woman crossed the street, unaware of him, and entered the café to buy a sandwich. She spoke to no one, simply ordered her meal and waited, curiously eyeing the sweets hanging by the counter. As she exited, their eyes met briefly, and Katya smiled widely upon seeing him. Severus felt an uncomfortable tug in his chest—a mixture of guilt and nausea.
"Professor Snape." she said, approaching his table with a smile. "Are you stalking me?" The woman teased, biting her lip.
"Miss Borislova." he said in his deep voice, inclining his head slightly in greeting. "I was just passing by. It's not my fault you decided to have lunch at the only café in Diagon Alley."
Katya leaned her weight onto the chair across from him, smiling widely. Severus could feel himself blush.
"May I?" she asked with a smile, and Snape stood up to move his chair.
"Please."
The woman smiled, placed all her personal belongings on the table, and sat down. The man noticed that the black folder she carried had a small label with the word Wiltshire written in Katya's delicate and elegant handwriting.
"Professor Snape." she said, raising an eyebrow. "Would you mind if I had lunch with you?" Her tone was seductive.
"Not at all. It would truly be a pleasure." said the professor. "In fact, it would improve my casual visit to London." Snape added, though both of them knew there was nothing casual about his presence in Diagon Alley that midday.
Katya gave a barely perceptible smile, a gesture that seemed to hold more questions than answers. Suddenly, the waitress from Fairy Sweet Tooth approached again and handed Katya the menu.
"I'll have the same as the professor, please." she said. The waitress nodded. Severus could feel his former student watching them, filled with questions. He could already imagine the rumours circulating about the most feared professor at Hogwarts having coffee with a stranger. Snape snorted at the mere thought.
"About the other night..." Katya began as soon as they were alone.
"I'm afraid I wasn't the best guest." he interrupted. "I promised I wouldn't let it happen again, but I fled the scene quickly. I would like to make it up to you, if you'll allow me."
Katya looked at him sceptically, but also with a spark of curiosity. Finally, she tilted her head slightly.
"Well... I finish work at seven." she said. "I was planning to visit a pub on Charing Cross Road. They say it’s... peculiar."
"Peculiar?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow.
Katya smiled, this time with a hint of mischief.
"Diablero. Does that ring a bell?"
Snape stared at her in silence for a moment. He knew exactly what she was referring to. It was a pub that had been around for about five years in London. He’d heard his students talk about it, known for its music and eclectic clientele, where wizards and witches mingled with muggles who had a taste for punk fashion.
"Not a place I frequent, to be honest." he replied, finally, in his characteristic tone.
"Well, I've been told it's fascinating." Katya said, shrugging. "I suppose you could join me, if you have nothing better to do."
Snape gave a slight nod, maintaining his impassive expression.
"At seven, then."
She nodded and glanced at the watch on her wrist.
"Duty calls." she told him as she gathered her things. With a slight squeeze of her hand, Katya left, and the professor sat there for a few minutes, still mulling over the situation. He took a moment to pay, then with a simple apparition, he headed to Spinner’s End where he went straight to the bathroom.
Snape had never liked his home in Spinner’s End. The house had always seemed old, ordinary, and neglected. His parents had never had enough money to make necessary repairs on time, and by the time the property passed into his name, it was on the verge of ruin. Since then, he had worked on restoring it just enough so it was liveable during the times he had to stay there, like the holidays. He had no interest in remodelling it or making it cosy, just in keeping it standing.
Despite everything, he had never considered moving. Spinner’s End had many drawbacks: in recent years, the streets had been taken over by gangs, the lighting was poor, and the air was thick with the smell of soot from the old Cokeworth mines. However, Snape remained, clinging to a routine he didn’t bother to change.
The house had two floors. The kitchen, though rarely used, was functional. The living room, on the other hand, was arranged to his taste, with a fireplace connected to the flu network that allowed him to travel when needed. There were two bathrooms: one for guests and another on the upper floor, which Severus particularly appreciated. After his bedroom, it was his favourite place in the house. Not because it was luxurious or special, but because it had a bathtub where he could submerge himself when the day became unbearable, allowing for a few moments of silence in the only refuge he had.
But that night, rest wasn’t an option. Snape was deep in thought, analysing different strategies to extract information from Katya. The most obvious choice was to seduce her, an easy path given his interest in her and the past they shared. He could also become her confidant, which wouldn’t be hard since they had once been friends. And then there was the more extreme alternative: to use Veritaserum and force her to talk.
The last possibility unsettled him. Not because it wouldn’t be effective, but because it felt like an act of desperation, and he wasn’t quite at that point yet. He didn’t want to see her as an enemy, but he couldn’t ignore that her connection to the Malfoys and her sudden presence in London raised too many questions. As much as the idea troubled him, he knew that sooner or later, he would have to make a decision.
After getting out of the bath, Severus spent a few moments staring at his reflection in the mirror, a pang of disgust running through him. His reflection had always been a relentless reminder of everything he hated about himself. He looked at his black, straight hair, falling in damp strands over his shoulders, clinging to his skin like shadows that refused to dissipate. His face, thin and pale, looked even more cadaverous under the dim light, accentuating the prominence of his nose and the deep circles under his eyes that he could never seem to erase, no matter how much rest he got.
He was not attractive. He never had been, neither in his youth nor now. His body had always seemed awkward to him, his face ungainly, his expression hardened by years of resentment and exhaustion. He couldn’t understand what Katya saw in him, what had made her look at him with desire that first time instead of with the revulsion he himself felt.
He remembered how, after that night in 1993, she had murmured with conviction: "You look incredible." He hadn’t known how to respond. It had seemed like a mockery, an empty comment, but the way she said it, with those dark eyes fixed on him as though she truly believed her words, had disarmed him.
But it couldn’t be real. It made no sense. What woman in her right mind would be attracted to someone like him? And not just physically—though that was hard enough to believe—but also for his dry, pessimistic character, marked by distrust and cynicism. Katya could have had anyone, men of higher status, more charismatic, more handsome. Yet, she had chosen him. Why?
He seriously thought Katya was the perfect woman. They understood each other perfectly, shared interests in Potions and the Dark Arts, and could spend hours debating ideas and theories not only about magic but also about ideologies and culture. The letters they exchanged over the years became his only real distraction outside of work, and their annual meetings at the assemblies a form of respite for his monotonous existence.
Severus had never planned to fall in love with her. But he did. Unknowingly, without being able to stop it. Katya was clever, intelligent, with an irony that sometimes rivalled his own, but with a warmth that he had never possessed. When, in 1993, their friendship crossed that invisible line, and they became more than friends, he thought, for a moment, that maybe he could allow himself to feel something more, but he forgot that the world was unfair and that he had made a promise. His duties to stop the Dark Lord and the silent war that was brewing still held him captive, and the worst part was that he couldn’t explain any of it to Katya.
Severus had seen her several times since her arrival. It was always the same dynamic: tense conversations, glances that said more than their words ever did. Until their last meeting led them back to bed. As if nothing had changed, but everything was different now. He had doubts about her.
Why was she in England? Why was she working for the Malfoys? He couldn’t stop asking himself these questions. Katya had never spoken of an interest in such connections, and yet there she was, rubbing shoulders with high-status individuals, just like she had in camp. Her presence raised more doubts than certainties. Had she changed so much in a year, or had he never truly known her?
The suspicion crept into his mind like poison. What if it had all been manipulation? What if Katya, with her beauty and intelligence, had been playing him from the start? Her proximity to the Malfoys, her sudden appearance in London, her interest in him... What if she was nothing more than a dark witch serving the Dark Lord? What if her purpose was nothing more than to drag him back into that world he had fought so hard to escape?
At seven in the evening, the couple met at the Diablero pub on Charing Cross Road, which had a decadent and noisy air. There was hardly any electric lighting except for neon signs. The walls were completely covered with old punk concert posters and graffiti that the owners seemed uninterested in erasing.
Severus was dressed entirely in black and seemed to blend into the interior of the bar. On the other hand, Katya was still wearing her office clothes, but Severus could tell she looked somewhat tired.
A live band played in a corner with such vibrant energy that the tables of worn wood trembled. The clientele seemed to enjoy the music, all mixed together—witches, wizards, and muggles—sharing the space with ease, although the differences between them were practically imperceptible. It was a place where no one asked too many questions, an anonymous refuge for misfits in the chaos of London.
Katya looked completely at ease in this environment, as if the loud music and dim lighting were as familiar to her as breathing. Severus, on the other hand, seemed out of place, his black robe drawing more attention than he would have liked. He was tense, though he hid it behind his usual impassive expression as he took a seat across from her at a small table near the stage.
“Are you upset with me?” Katya asked directly, leaning over the table so her voice could rise above the noise of the place.
Snape looked at her with his piercing dark eyes, his expression unreadable.
“Should I be?”
Katya let out a brief laugh, though there was a slight tremor in her smile.
“I’m asking about the other morning. I didn’t mean to seem… so evasive. I didn’t want you to hear something I can’t explain.” she told him. “My… father is a very… strict person about this. I can’t reveal my work here to anyone. I hope you can understand that.”
“It’s clear there are many things you’re not ready to explain.” Snape replied in a low tone, though his voice contained no reproach, only something closer to curiosity.
Katya sighed, resting her chin in one hand as she played with the straw in her drink.
“Does that bother you?”
Snape took a sip of red wine, a choice that seemed completely out of place in a pub full of pints of cheap beer.
“No, I’m not upset.” he replied. “Your secrets... it’s striking, but I can’t accuse you of not acting the same way.”
Katya observed him in silence for a moment before nodding slowly.
“I understand. But believe me, it’s nothing you need to worry about. My reasons for being in London are completely harmless for a professor,” she said, smiling at him.
Snape set his glass down on the table with a calculated motion, leaning slightly toward her.
“My concerns are for you, Kat. I hope you realise you’re getting involved with dangerous people.” Severus stared at her intently. “Do you have any idea how the situation is escalating in England? The Dark Lord is not a sleeping threat. And your association with the Malfoys puts you in a precarious position.”
Katya frowned, crossing her arms with a slight air of frustration.
“The Malfoys are just my employers and acquaintances of my father. I’m good at what I do, Severus, and they know that. I’m not involved in their games or attacks if that’s what you really want to know.”
“You think the Malfoys were behind the attack, then?” Snape asked, surprised.
Katya took another sip of her drink.
“I don’t know. They’re... upset, to say the least.” she told him. “Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but I overheard them talking about whether it was wise for their son, Draco, to return to Hogwarts this year.” Katya fixed her hair as she spoke. “Maybe... they’re just as scared as the rest of the community, and they’re reacting like a frightened family.”
But Severus knew. Katya had no idea, but Lucius Malfoy, like him, feared the return of the Dark Lord and how he would react to his family. Perhaps it was time to speak directly with Lucius and ask what more he knew about the attack.
“And you really think you’ll be able to stay out of all this?” Snape retorted, his voice sharp but not raised. “Not everyone has the luxury of choice.”
She fixed him with a steady gaze, challenging him with a cold glint in her blue eyes.
“And what do you want me to do? Leave the country?” she scoffed. “Or stop working for them and lose my only chance at finally being free from my father?” Katya was so close to him that Snape could feel her breath.
“Perhaps not, but you’d be safe,” Snape admitted, with an honesty that took her by surprise. “You wouldn’t be dragged into the coming war.”
Katya lowered her gaze to her glass, spinning it between her hands as she fell into silence. After a moment, she sighed, brushing the topic aside with a wave of her hand.
“This is... too much.” she said, forcing a smile as if to lighten the mood. “Can we talk about something else? Something that doesn’t involve wars or threats or the Malfoys.”
Snape raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further.
“As you wish.”
Katya looked at him with a flash of curiosity in her eyes.
“Then let’s talk about us.” she said, and Snape leaned back slightly, as if the question had caught him off guard.
“Us?”
She nodded, resting her elbows on the table as she watched him with an amused smile.
“Yes. It’s clear we’re not just acquaintances, and we can’t keep calling ourselves friends. In fact, Narcissa has asked about you again, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep avoiding her. These... frequent meetings. I’d like to know what they’re about.” Katya took another sip from her drink. “Have you decided once more that I’m worthy of your interest? Or will you disappear again, Severus?”
Snape held her gaze, his expression as unreadable as ever, though his dark eyes gleamed with caution and something Katya couldn’t quite decipher.
“As you know, I don’t usually enjoy the company of others,” he said finally, his voice low but clear. “But, for some reason, and as I told you in Vienna, your company is not as unpleasant to me.” Katya raised an eyebrow. “In fact, it’s becoming more difficult to keep my distance.” Severus moved his hands restlessly. “I thought, mistakenly, that by parting ways, we would not cross paths again, that you would be safe from me. But, somehow, here you are... and I don’t want to... lose you again.”
Katya laughed softly, a sound that seemed genuine even in the noisy pub.
“I don’t think you’ve spoken to me this much since I arrived in London,” she said.
“Don’t get used to it.” Snape replied, though there was a slight tug at the corner of his lips, as if he were about to smile. To ease his nerves, he took another drink.
“I... would like to try, Severus.” the woman said, taking his hand. “My feelings haven’t changed.”
The air in the pub had grown colder as the night wore on, and the surrounding tables were starting to empty. Severus and Katya left together, the lights of Charing Cross Road casting shadows across their faces as they walked in silence toward her flat.
Katya guided him through the narrow streets of London with an easy confidence, her boots echoing on the damp pavement. Snape followed, in his usual reserved manner, scanning every corner, every shadow that moved around them. When they arrived, Katya pushed the door to her building open and invited him in with a wave of her hand.
“Tea?” Katya asked, breaking the silence as she set her things on a table by the door.
“No.” Snape replied bluntly, taking a seat on the sofa.
Katya smiled, as if she had been expecting that answer, and sat beside him, crossing her legs as she watched him with her bright eyes.
“Would you like something stronger?”
“To be honest, I’d like to undress you.”
Katya let out a soft sigh and pressed her body against his.
For a moment, Snape’s mind clouded.
“Kat, I’m not sure if this is the right time for... something more. There are too many factors at play, too many risks.”
“Shut up, Sev.” Katya tilted her head, her lips forming a small smile, and kissed him intensely.
Snape didn’t say another word. Words were unnecessary when the tension between them was unbearable. As soon as Katya moved closer, their hands met almost desperately. Their lips searched each other in a kiss that started slow, exploratory, but soon became more intense, more urgent.
The air between them grew heavy as their fingers ran over each other’s clothes, clumsily and hastily slipping them off. Their breathing was irregular, their bodies pressing together in an attempt to get even closer. Severus pushed her against the doorframe, and she let out a hysterical scream that quickly turned into laughter.
They didn’t separate as they moved through the room, stumbling along the way, not breaking contact, not losing the rhythm of their kisses. Katya pushed him onto the bed again, just like the last time, and lay beside him. Severus, quickly, positioned himself over her and began to worship her, caressing her breasts with madness, while she moaned in desperation.
“I don’t want this feeling to end.” Katya had whispered in his ear as they both moaned between breaths. The girl had her legs wrapped around the professor’s hips as he entered and exited her with passion.
Severus let out a low growl, gripping Katya’s body harder, feeling her tremble beneath him. Suddenly, the young woman let out a guttural moan, a deep sound that resonated through the room and seemed to ignite something primal within him. All his muscles tensed in response, his self-control vanished in an instant, and with a final shudder, he finished inside her, breathing heavily.
And then, at that precise moment, the lights in the room flickered. A faint flash, barely noticeable, but strange enough to startle Severus.
He stayed still, still breathless, trying to regain clarity of thought. This wasn’t the first time it had happened. The night before, during their first encounter in London, the lights had flickered too. And even earlier, in Vienna, when they had slept together for the first time, the same disturbance in the energy had occurred. It couldn’t be a coincidence.
Katya, on the other hand, seemed too satisfied to notice. Reclining against the sheets, her eyes half-closed and a pure expression of contentment on her face, there was no sign that she had noticed the anomaly. To her, everything seemed normal.
After a while, Katya fell into a deep sleep, her breathing rhythmic, breaking the silence in the room. Her figure, wrapped in the sheets, radiated a calmness that Severus found almost foreign. He, on the other hand, remained seated on the edge of the mattress, motionless, his eyes fixed on her, his expression hidden behind a mask of impassivity.
He watched her for a long moment, as though searching for something, as if waiting to find a crack in that image of serenity. Softness, warmth, surrender. All those things he had never allowed himself to desire, let alone possess. How could someone like her want him by her side? How could it be real?
Doubt settled in his chest like a sharp thorn. Maybe she was manipulating him. Maybe it was a fleeting illusion, a trap carefully woven. Because it didn’t make sense, it couldn’t. He knew it. No one chose to be with him.
He ran a hand over his face, frustrated. Something inside him whispered that he should stay, that he should accept the warmth Katya was offering him, that for once, he shouldn’t question what was in front of him. But that voice was weak, smothered by a stronger, crueler one. The one that reminded him who he was, what he was.
He couldn’t trust her.
Severus stood up silently, his movements calculated. Something didn’t add up. Katya was a clever woman, cautious, with secrets hidden behind a smile and an inquisitive gaze. Her affection, her closeness, it was all too convincing. And if it was convincing, it had to be false. Because if he didn’t consider himself worthy of her, how could he be in her eyes?
Severus scanned the flat with the meticulousness of someone who had perfected the art of moving without leaving a trace. His hands ran over the drawers and shelves with surgical precision, sliding papers, checking hastily scribbled notes, examining every detail without disturbing the apparent order. The documents he found were mundane: food receipts, utility bills, quick notes on work-related matters. Everything seemed normal, routine, until his gaze stopped on the folder that Katya had brought with her when leaving work.
He took it carefully and immediately felt the subtle tingling of a concealment charm. It wasn’t a complex spell, but enough to reveal that its owner didn’t want just anyone going through it. He opened it cautiously, finding documents related to the buying and selling, and financial transactions of the Malfoys, nothing out of the ordinary. However, as he touched the inside, he noticed something more: between the leather of the folder and its bottom, there was a small notebook hidden, sealed with a basic charm.
Severus frowned. Katya was clever, not an amateur at what she did. Why hide something with such an easy-to-break barrier? Didn’t she expect anyone to go through her things?
With a flick of his wand, he broke the seal and carefully pulled out the notebook. When he opened it, his gaze sharpened. The pages were filled with entries dated from June of that year, written in Russian, with names and detailed notes, some accompanied by schedules and references that he couldn’t quite understand. He skimmed through it, turning page after page until, among the foreign letters, he found something that made him clench his jaw.
His name.
It wasn’t in every entry, but it was in several, mentioned alongside names he recognized, names tied to British magical aristocracy, shady businesses, and contacts that should never have appeared in a simple ledger.
The air in the room seemed to cool. Katya wasn’t there just for her work as an accountant, nor was her presence in England a simple financial advisory matter. She was investigating something. For whom? For her father, an influential politician in Russia? For the Magical Federal Committee in her country? What exactly was she looking for?
Severus turned the pages with more attention, his mind piecing together the puzzle. There was something that didn’t add up. The diary had entries going back four months, but Katya had only officially been in England for two. Had she been in London before without him knowing?
He squeezed the notebook between his fingers, feeling an irritation he couldn’t quite define. Katya was an enigma, one he had wanted to solve out of desire and nostalgia, but this discovery forced him to see her with new eyes.
Without hesitation, he cast a duplication spell. He kept the copy in his robes and placed the original back in its hiding spot, making sure everything was exactly as he had found it. He couldn’t leave a trace of his intrusion.
When he returned to the bedroom, Katya was still asleep, her breathing steady, completely unaware of the growing distrust that now clouded Severus’s mind. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching her in silence, a dark shadow passing through his eyes.
He wanted to believe she was just a woman trapped in difficult circumstances, but the evidence suggested otherwise. Nothing about Katya was simple, and every time he thought he knew her, she proved him wrong. Severus knew it: he couldn’t trust anyone.