If Terrence was going to be bothered about taking a life, he felt he should have been bothered by killing his own parents. After that, a random Death Eater that he hardly knew -- who was certainly responsible for having taken plenty of lives, too -- hardly even registered on his moral radar. And when it did, it was more about having the blood of a Marked man on his hands to balance out the lives of all those he'd been ordered to kill and maim by a dictator who had done nothing to earn his servitude.
"True," he said thoughtfully, deciding that she was probably right. He could probably dismantle Nott's wards, assuming he had the time to do it properly. At least dismantle them enough not to show who had gotten through them, which was really the only part that mattered.
He laughed and finished his sandwich, swallowing a large bit of it before joining her again, resting mostly against her side, part of his chest resting on her hips, hands on her stomach, pressing a kiss to the soft skin between her breasts. He felt the indentations where his teeth had been against his lips. "I can ward it carefully," he said. "If wards are specific enough, no one will even realize there's a house unless they walk straight into it. And if it's in the middle of a nest of dangerous creatures, I doubt they'd be too likely to do that."
He rested his chin between the curve of her ribs, watching her. He liked it when they were like this, almost carefree, the way they had been when they'd been traveling after he'd graduated. Maybe once they were on the run, in hiding, they'd be like this more often. Wouldn't that just be a slap in the face to the people that wanted to keep them living in fear, too. "Anywhere in particular you'd like to live?"