Selena's music played on the radio, and the tent was thick with the smell of cigarettes. Pomona sat leaning against the table, the map of the sinkhole spread out before her.
Back when the Order of the Phoenix held meetings, the dining room used as their meeting room had always reeked of smoke, its ashtrays overflowing with cigarette butts. Every time she cleaned it, she could not help complaining about how much the people at those meetings smoked.
There was a dining table in the kitchen. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George sometimes ate there, so that area was non-smoking.
The others were tolerable, but Mundungus Fletcher always came into the kitchen to smoke. Pomona did not want to end up like him, reeking of alcohol and smoke, so she quickly stubbed out her cigarette.
Severus did not know whether the Fidelius Charm could block the connection brought by the Dark Mark, so every time he came to the Order of the Phoenix, he was always in a hurry to come and go.
His caution had indeed been necessary. Thanks to it, the location of the Order of the Phoenix headquarters had not been exposed.
War was only beautiful when it was over. Pomona had lived through two wars, after all. This little bit of pressure would not break her.
If she still dared entertain any other ideas now, Voldemort would take control of her body.
There had only been one chance, and Kreacher had ruined it. The choices before her were dwindling. Thinking blindly on her own was useless, so she left the tent to find someone else burdened with worries.
They had pitched their tents at the top of the sinkhole, near the exit. Severus sat on a real boulder with his back to her, gazing out