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Suspected Order spy at Hogsmeade recruitment house. Identify, distract, but do not engage. Maintain cover at all costs if hostilities break out. Report at first available.
***
Quirinus frowned at the letter, a mere scrap of parchment really, but waved his wand and summoned his cloak all the same. He wasn't often called to do anything that might be considered front lines work in the war, the Dark Lord preferring to have him working behind the scenes. The situation must be serious for him to be called in, or perhaps something else was going on tonight, he wouldn't know.
He absently checked each of his pockets as he made his way downstairs, making sure everything was still in place. His business cloak as he liked to think of it was warded to hell and back so he didn't actually expect anything to be missing, but it made him feel better to be sure just the same.
"I'm going out for the night, Mum," he said when he reached the kitchen, pausing for a quick kiss to her cheek.
"Going out with your friends?" she asked, setting down the bread she was kneading by hand for the next morning, and dusting her hands off with a tea towel.
"Mmm," he hummed, not quite an answer, but close enough. "I'll probably be out late, so don't wait up."
"Stay safe, dear, and have fun tonight," she said.
"Love you," he replied, and closed the door.
With a crack, he landed in the designated apparition point in Hogsmeade, just steps away from his favorite junk shop. Some of his best ideas came from fiddling with the muggle trash they found and making it better.
He wound his way through the streets until the week lit stores with brightly colors signs made way for those that let a little more dust and cobwebs accumulate, all the better for deterring the interest of any curious students. After a moment's thought, he decided to enter through the front rather than the back, and took in which Death Eater was at the door tonight. It was Valentin, one of his favorites, only pretending to check wands at the door.
"I hear there's some interest at the poker tables tonight," Valentin said quietly as he passed, and Quirinus gave him a sharp nod in acknowledgment.
His eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, and he swept his eyes across the patrons until he landed on the poker tables. He made his way there slowly, casually, trying to discern which was his target.
A phoenix feather floated up to him, bobbing gently in a way that most wizards would dismiss as a simple enchanted bauble, perfectly colored to offset the black velvet fabrics and heavy gold fittings throughout the room. It was something meant to show off wealth, given the rarity of freely-given phoenix feathers, which were the only type that would reliably take a permanent enchantment, but to all appearances they were nothing special.
If only they knew.
These were actually one of his favorite enchantments, and one he had made specifically for the Dark Lord himself, not that he'd known he'd see them in action tonight.
He'd invented a technique for layering enchantments as a mere second year, bringing him to the Dark Lord's attention earlier than most recruits, and he'd used it in this and many other projects since. Underneath the obvious floating enchantment, was one to read the emotions and intent of anyone, muggle or wizard, in the vicinity, and relate it back to a crystal ball he'd found on a Hogsmeade weekend just before his OWLs.
Altogether, the system meant that one dedicated wizard could be stationed in a hidden room, watching the crystal, and could react to detain or remove a wizard there to cause trouble before they could act, whether they intended to call the aurors, were an undercover spy looking for evidence of malfeasance, or were simply a disgruntled wizard looking for a fight.
He gave the feather a small wave, wondering who was sitting behind the crystal watching him, and returned his attention to the room. And then, his eyes landed on a shock of red hair and he knew.
Pasting on his most enticing smirk, he added a small sway to his walk that he knew made his cloak flare out dramatically. He felt eyes on him as he cut straight across the floor, finally stopping at Poker Table Number 3, the one for high stakes players who hadn't been vetted for the… more interesting kinds of conversations and deals that could take place at Tables 5 through 7.
"I thought I saw a familiar shock of hair over here," he said directly into Fabian's ear, settling himself into the empty spectator's seat beside him.
"Q!" Fabian replied with a startle. "I didn't know you came around here?"
For all that this "Q" nonsense was horribly muggle, Quirinus found he rather liked the nickname, and it fit him well. Just for Fabian, he could make an exception.
"Darling," he chided. "You may be my favorite, but that doesn't mean I don't dabble in the other Hogsmeade sights."
Fabian flushed, his hair clashing horribly with his face, and turned back to his cards for the next round that had been dealt. Quirinus took the chance while he was distracted to scoot his chair a little closer, and slung his arm around the back of Fabian's.
"Wish me luck?" Fabian asked, hand hovering over his card without checking it yet.
Quirinus smirked, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"Well, its not like there's any dice around here for me to blow on," he said when Fabian quirked his brow at the action.
"Maybe that'll have to be the next thing we try then," Fabian said, and winced when the final card was revealed by the dealer at the center of the table.
Fabian had never been very good at keeping his thoughts to himself, which made it all the more ridiculous that the Order would send him of all people here. And the cash he was throwing around certainly wasn't his own either.
Quirinus knew just about everything there was to know about the junk shop he managed but didn't own in Hogsmeade, and the chances that he would have come by the buy-in for that particular table honestly was slim.
Three full month's shop earnings was no small change, and he knew for a fact that Fabian would've preferred to send some extra funds to his great-aunt Mabel, who had never quite recovered after a brush with Dragon Pox last winter, or alternatively to his sister Molly, and the army of children she was steadily popping out.
Fabian stood and Quirinus followed, clutching at his arm as they wove between the tables, making their way over to the craps table. This one was less popular, with only one table dedicated to the game, and the only seat was for the dealer.
When they stopped, Fabian flagged down a waiter and ordered drinks for the two of them, and Quirinus moved from clutching his arm to wrapping an arm around Fabian's waist.
"So, what've you been up to lately?" Quirinus murmured.
This game moved faster than he last, and Quirinus almost gasped aloud at the rate Fabian was losing his galleons. Not that he had any reason to suspect that these weren't standard dice, but rather "a Q special", as Fabian would put it. But still.
"A bit of this and that," Fabian equivocated, not subtle at all as he scanned the room for a fifth time since Quirinus had first spotted him. "Things have been… difficult lately," he finally added, "With the war, you know?"
Quirinus gave his side a small squeeze while he considered how to respond to that.
"You know I'm here for you right?" he asked, adding a sultry undertone to his voice. "Anything you need, anything at all."
Fabian flushed again, distracted enough by Quirinus that he didn't react at all to losing his third straight game before tapping his agreement to start a fourth.
"Is that right?" he asked.
"Mhmm. Anything at all," he repeated.
Fabian flagged down another waiter for some refills to their drinks, and Quirinus let Fabian think of how to respond. Their drinks arrived, and Quirinus pretended not to notice that Fabian finished half of his in a single long sip.
Another hand ended with Fabian's loss, and he let himself be led away from the table, to a darker spot hidden behind heavy curtains at the side of the room. Perfect for a quiet conversation, or something more.
"Listen," Fabian started, before hesitating, and Quirinus waited him out. The silence dragged out, and Quirinus pressed up close against Fabian, face to face rather than side by side as they'd been all night. Even as he pressed closer, he let his eyes widen and put on his most earnest expression.
"Merlin, that face," Fabian whispered, eyes roaming over his perfectly smooth cheeks that had miraculously avoided the worst of teenage acne and the accompanying scars. He took in the eyebrows he'd plucked just this morning, and down to his perfectly moisturized lips.
Yes, he was well aware by now of why the Dark Lord sent him on this mission rather than anyone else, and only half of it was to do with the conversations they'd had before on enchanting muggle artifacts for fun, and how best to scavenge for them.
It only took him a split second to decide to press his advantage, tipping closer until his mouth brushed above Fabian's collar.
"You can tell me," he urged, finishing with a soft kiss to the pulse point. He let out a soft breath that he knew would feel chilly against the wet spot, then kept at it, licking and sucking occasionally punctuated with more breaths.
And then Fabian was spilling it all, and Quirinus was sure he was saying far more than he intended.
"This is a shady place," he panted. "Deals in dark corners, folks with arrest warrants out, you know," Fabian said.
"Oh?"
"Yeahhh," Fabian said, drawing it out into a moan. "That's what our contact said." Our, huh? The Dark Lord would be pleased at the confirmation of his place within the Order if nothing else.
"Anyways, he said something about a deal going down tonight. Greasy bloke with bad hair, dunno how much to trust the description I was given, but, he's supposed to be into super illegal stuff, buying restricted ingredients here."
"And you're here to stop him?" Quirinus asked, doing his best I'm so proud of you impression.
"Y-yeah," Fabian said. "Or at least to see what he's up to," he added.
"So brave of you," he murmured, switching to the other side of Fabian's neck. "I'm sure the aurors will be grateful."
"Au-Aurors, right," Fabian said, and Quirinus almost snorted.
Right, skirting around due process was how the Order liked to do things, as though you could just ignore whatever rules weren't convenient for you at any given moment. But then, what else would you expect from a bunch of Gryffindors?
"Do you want me to help you find him?" Quirinus asked, not that it would be of any use tonight. The Dark Lord would have sent other messages at the same time as he'd sent Quirinus his own, so any deals that might have been made here tonight had long since been rescheduled elsewhere.
Not to mention the fact that there was really only one person who came to mind when it came to skill at brewing potions these days, and the likes of Severus Snape would never be caught dead here, or anywhere in Hogsmeade really. Even he'd heard about the firm distance he'd kept from all things Hogwarts starting the moment Snape had graduated, and Quirinus had been a mere third year at the time, and in a different House to boot.
"N-no," Fabian declined, "It's hours past the meeting by now, I'll bet he's not showing tonight."
Quirinus hummed, and pulled back just enough to look Fabian in the eyes. Fabian flushed at the attention, and seemed to be gathering his Gryffindor courage before he finally said, "Come home with me?"
Quirinus gave him his most dazzling smile, and leaned in again to kiss him properly this time, full on the lips, delighting in the contrast between the scratch of the five o'clock shadow on his chin and the softness of his tongue.
"I'd love to."