The Black Unicorn

They had not spoken on the walk to Dumbledore’s rooms later that afternoon. Esmeralda knew now that something was seriously wrong between them; when she pressed Snape gently with questions it just resulted in the wizard’s expression growing more frozen. Finally, she decided to leave him alone, but her heart was crushed. They walked in silence up to Albus’ chambers.

Dumbledore administered the allergy test on Severus, and it produced negative results. Now he was readying the injection; the room was quiet. Esmeralda sat across from the library room couch in an overstuffed chair, trying to govern both her worry and growing despair. Had she moved too quickly with him? Was he simply too fragile to understand how she felt? She thought she had known his heart, but she could feel the walls he had retreated behind all too well. She controlled herself now, in the quiet library, and tried to concentrate on the business at hand.

Snape was too stiff on the sofa, his tunic sleeve pulled up. Albus was administering the injection now. Esmeralda held herself, her arms crossed over her chest tightly as Dumbledore finished, and moved the hypodermic away. He sat back, watching Snape very closely. The younger wizard’s eyes closed, and he relaxed into the sofa. He was very still for several minutes. Then his countenance seemed to change…his eyes opened again, but his usual expression was gone. His face seemed too slack, his eyes were not focusing on anything. Esmeralda leaned over, worried, and Albus pulled his eyelid up, checking on his pupil. She saw now that the whites of his eyes had gone dull red from the blood. It gave him an otherworldly, alien look. Her insides roiled in anxiety.

“Severus. Can you hear me.” Dumbledore continued to watch the man closely.

“I……..can hear you. But that one….is not here.” Snape grinned peculiarly, his eyes looking past Dumbledore, past them both.

“Who is there, then.”

“The one that sees.” Snape’s head lolled on the back of the couch. Esmeralda watched his arms go completely limp. His hands rested on the couch like a puppet’s. Dumbledore’s face tightened.

“I need to ask the one that sees several questions. I need to know….during the time that Voldemort had the other…the one called Snape….” The thing inside of Severus interrupted.

“Ah…the snake-faced beast. This one remembers. This one knows his evil. The other one inside has tasted the evil.” Dumbledore continued.

“Yes, the snake-faced beast. The one called Snape was being…was involved in a ritual…the two were finishing the ritual, Snape was drinking from a cup, and his world went dark. I need to see past that time, I need to know what the snake-faced beast did when Snape’s perceptions stopped. Do you see….that place? That time?”

“This one sees. This one watches always. It’s good to be…free. At last.” Snape’s face grinned widely, uncharacteristically. Esmeralda’s skin crawled. Albus continued.

“Tell me…what happened. What did the snake-faced beast do to the one called Snape? It’s very important. You must tell me.” Albus’ voice changed pitch. Severus’ head rolled on the couch.

“The one called Snape….was given a poison with a drug, a truth serum….the snake-faced beast meant to open his mind….the snake beast slapped that one…and again….he is laughing….I am there though…I see his evil, I hear his questions…” Snape paused on the couch, his breathing going faster. Dumbledore pressed on.

“What were his questions.”

“The snake asks….who is Esmeralda…….he asks again……..the one called Snape will not reply…he has been poisoned, but that one knows, he hides her in his heart……the snake hits him, hits both of us……..his eyes are….so hard, so cold…….I watch, I see….it pleases him to hurt others…..it would be best to leave, to get away, but the body is poisoned, it is stilled…the snake calls another in, we cannot see this other one…the body is given more poison, more serum….” Snape’s form curled slightly on the couch, Esmeralda was petrified in horror where she sat. “this one’s body cannot assimilate that much poison….the body begins to seize….the snake does not stop, it asks again, who is Esmeralda…….the body is now lost to the mind….the mind is separated…from the heart….the one called Snape answers Esmeralda Admantia….the snake laughs in victory…and asks where is this Esmeralda….the body is not good, the mind is separated…….I watch though, I hear….the voice says Norway…dragons…….the mind is black….the spirit is lost, it cannot find its way home…the poisons are too strong….the snake is laughing, it turns to the other and says see how easy? How fragile? We will kill her, send the Death Eaters to wipe out the woman and her people….he is…jealous of the one called Snape’s heart….what lies hidden there….the treasure within that the snake covets…..that he has stolen with poison…..the snake leaves the body, leaves the room…..time passes.”

“What…else….did he ask? Was there anything else?” Snape’s face was still.

“Time passes….the veil….is falling…...” Snape’s hand twitched on the sofa. His eyes blinked. As the thing inside of Snape spoke, rage and another emotion had begun to spiral up from her core; slow, like lava rousing from a deep, hot sleep, then like smoke, going faster, the fumes of black, swirling passion were clouding her rational thought processes …..Esmeralda was shaking in fury. Voldemort had sent the Death Eaters to murder her, and in their blood lust, had killed Fafnaulda, had almost killed her, had abused Severus horribly, preying on his own guilt. The blind fury within her spread its wings and blocked out the sun of her mind.

She stood up, and strode to the window…she had to get out, she had to clear her mind, or she would destroy the room…the cruelty he had endured, on her behalf….he had struggled to hide her, even while the venom made his struggle hopelessly impossible, and she knew then, how much her heart was involved, she could not deny what she had run from any longer. She knew she was in love with him, and the pain for him was unbearable, like a huge, pulsing wound….she could feel the other part of her clawing to get out, to rip, to shred, to roar……her skin was tingling, the backs of her legs, her elbows….the rushing feeling that proceeded the transfiguration was starting ahead of her….she heard her voice, it seemed so far away, like a part of herself caught in another place. The rage that rose up in her chest exceeded her mind, blocked out all clear thought.

“I have to go….” She could not stop shaking, her fury was beyond the core of her humanity, the dragon was roaring, thundering, stretching her from ribcage to skull, the pain was relentless, it was creeping across her skin in a prickling, unstoppable wave.

“It would not be prudent to leave, Esmeralda…he will need you now…..now, most of all……..” Dumbledore’s voice was strong with fervor, but she could not hear him. The anger rose up around her like the purest fire, the roar blocking all other sound, and she walked over to the library window and threw it open. She could not take her rage out on Dumbledore, or on Severus….she wanted with all of her heart and soul to kill, to destroy Voldemort….the urge was so overwhelming and frightening that she needed to fly, to take the rushing, black wave of violence away, dissipate it somehow, and she transformed on the balcony in a flash and soared up and over Dumbledore’s offices, out, out into the cold slap of air and the empty silence of sky, over the forest, where the other wild things were.

The wind blew through the opening, ruffling the curtains that hung in front of the window that Esmeralda had just opened. Dumbledore sat, frozeSnapSnape’s body was coming around. The man’s eyes were going to a tinge of pink. Dimly, Albus was thankful he had given the man a small, weak dosage. He roused slowly on the couch, and Albus watched as his expression returned to the regular, furrowed mask. Snape sat up gingerly on the couch, and put his hand to his head.

“How are you feeling.” Albus’ voice was dull. Snape looked around the room. The woman was gone. His stomach was roiling and his head hurt, his mouth was too dry. But where was Esmeralda? What had happened?

“Albus….what did I say? Where…did she go?” Albus got up slowly, too slowly, and paced, his arms crossed. Snape’s belly coiled in pain. The wizard put his hand on Severus’ shoulder.

“Severus.” He said, very gently.

“Albus…what happened?” His anxiety grew wildly…but he tried to keep his voice steady. .Albus would not look at him.

“He poisoned you. Gave you a truth serum. But you hid the information from him. He poisoned you further. You were right, you know. He is insane. He wanted her name. He wanted to kill her. He sent the Death Eaters….they murdered Fafnaulda. You were right, Severus. Your instincts were….correct.” Albus was whispering, not looking at Severus, but through the open window. Snape turned, feeling the soft breeze, following Albus’ gaze. He saw all too clearly what had transpired…..she was furious with him over his weakness….he had exposed her, he had murdered Fafnaulda through his inability to hide the information, and had almost murdered her. She had left and flown away. His belly turned to lead, despair grounded him; it was familiar, it was a known thing. So he had been right. All of his work, his shutting away tne pne precious gem that had meant the world to him, ripped from him. And all along, for her, it had just been attraction, just a quaint feeling, a shadow of an emotion for an old school acquaintance, not strong enough, not nearly strong enough to hold her here…..and so she was gone, just like that. Something retracted inside of him, his heart squeezed, turning thin and small. He was still on the couch, unable to speak. The wind blew threw him, and he was left once again in the empty room.




Her days were made up of slogging, dull gray minutes. He avoided her at every crossing of their junctures. Every attempt to speak with him had caused him to turn away, to pretend he didn’t hear, to be somewhere else, doing something else. She tried to stop him, she needed to tell him why she had left the room, that it hadn’t been him, it had been her, she had been too furious at Voldemort, but he had retracted behind the frozsilesilent mask completely. He used the roiling hallways, filled with students now, as a living barrier against her. His eyes looked beyond her, his face stricken.

The only thing that seemed alive inside of her was her fear of the classroom. Her spirit felt crushed, trampled…the students were sometimes lively, sometimes sullen, but the new stress of the situation, instead of exciting her, throttled some part of her, and the first 3 days she went through the motioclogclogged with fear, trying to memorize names, trying to stop the shaking inside of her, trying to not remember what they had had for just a few moments. The students’ faces looked up at her, some hopeful, others resentful…she watched the sun move in the sky, her eyes ran over the words in the textbooks, she noticed the shadows growing longer on the walls. She got their names dutifully over the first part of the week. She tried to talk to McGonagall, but the words seemed all wrong, too fey, too worthless to describe the abyss of deep hurt. She wasn’t sleeping and she didn’t see the students around her as she moved through the hallways.

On Tuesday, the fourth day, she found Dumbledore. She had gathered herself enough to speak to him. They were standing outside his doors now; it was late afternoon, classes were over. Dinner was in a couple of hours. He rdedrded her sadly, but the part of her that could sense others had pulled away, had wrapped itself in wings and lay hidden. She was cut off, lost. And what was worse, she had no desire to connect with anyone, any longer. But old instinct was strong, and she had gone to him.

“I….should have listened to you.” Her eyes glistened suddenly, but she stared at his chest. His robes, today, were a lovely crushed blue velvet. Dumbledore put one arm around her shoulder and pd hed her to him gently. She vaguely knew that she shouldn’t get the beautiful cloth wet with her tears, but she could not stop herself. Neither of them said anything for a while. She rested against him. His warmth woke something inside of her up, and she pulled away from him.

“He’s gone. He’s completely gone. I can’t believe how stupid I was.” Dumbledore smiled.

“No. He’s not gone. He just needs time. A few more days, Esmeralda. I know it seems like the end, but trust me. It’s like breathing; he will close, and he will open. Please….trust me.” He watched her gently, and his hand was soft on her shoulder. Finally she nodded.

“I didn’t listen to you the first time. I’ll listen to you now. I’m not completely thick.” She gave a small smile. “All right. Until Thursday. Albus. Thank you.” She inclined her head towards him, and moved away. His warmth retracted, she was alone again. She just wanted to go to sleep, and fall into unfeeling blackness.



Esmeralda stopped in front of Snape’s dungeon roo The The last 6 days had been the most miserable she had spent in her life. She had heeded Dumbledore’s advice, and had stayed away from him for two more days, but she could no longer maintain this awful silence and exist in this gray cloud of despair at Hogwarts. She had to know, one way or another, what his answer was. As she approached the door she knew that what she had to govern was her own grief and anger. But worst of all was the missing. She missed the warmth of him and she missed the unspoken love between them. She knew why he had left even if he didn’t, and she was sick of the guilt, the blame he was feeling. She was furious, but not furious with Severus. Voldemort was the culprit. The madman had done his work all too well, and Esmeralda was determined to get this through the closed doors of Snape’s mind tonight.

She set her jaw, and tugged on her robes. She knocked, quickly and briefly; she was so nervous she was shaking. She heard the chimes ringing faintly inside his rooms, but could hear no other sound. She waited. Then she heard someone moving about, a chair moving back, the rustling of robes, then the click of heels on the floor. The door creaked open, and one pale hand’s fingers wrapped themselves around the exterior of the door.

His face was even more gaunt and withdrawn than it had been at suppertime. His eyebrows were winched together thickly, furrowing the skin between his eyes even more deeply than usual.

“What is it. Oh.” His voice started off dull with a teacher’s bored authority, and then quickly changed into something icy and far more laden. She saw his expression flow from sudden recognition and hopeful anxiety, to the quick lock-down of absolute disinvolvement. He stopped opening the door. “You should leave.” His voice was level and worse than aloof.

“Severus. You must let me in.” The color had drained completely from his face. His eyes were black, hard rocks.

“No. You should not be here.” He was looking past her, at something else. His voice strangled, but he caught himself. “I made a mistake. I was wrong. You should leave.” Her heart shriveled inside of her chest at the finality of his judgment, but she wrapped her fingers around the door and pressed up against the edge of the opening.

“No. You’re lying. You know that I know you are lying…..Severus…” she closed her eyes. “please let me in. Just to talk to you. What can that harm?” His fingers tightened around the door.

“No. I’ll just….destroy you. As I destroyed Fafnaulda.” He looked away from her. He looked utterly fatigued and completely defeated.

“And that is exactly what we need to talk about! This is not about you! This is not about me! This is about Voldemort! Snape, don’t you understand!” She was livid. She was so angry that her face was flushed bright red. He tilted his head at her ever so slightly, but the rest of him was so still that only the rise and fall of his chest let her know that he was alive.

“Severus.” She closed her eyes again. “You….accepted me without question. You loved me. You still love me, you cannot hide that from me! You know what I am! You’ve got to understand….YOU did not kill Fafnaulda….Voldemort did! Severus, he’s just using you! It could have been me! It could have been you! It’s not you he’s singled out, it’s all of us! He is a *madman*, a lunatic, sowing evil and strife amongst us, and the longer you desist from letting me inside your room, the stronger his evil grows! Do you think I’m making this up!” She was sweating, quivering where she stood. Her fury had made her hair stand on end; it was wiping out the last vestiges of hope she had.

“But Esmeralda. That is precisely why I cannot let you in. He tried to kill you the first time. He’ll try to kill you again, because of *me*. And he missed; you’re in great danger. Even here at Hogwarts. I cannot let my love for you be the impetus for your destruction. Please leave.” His fingers began to tremble on the door. She saw his eyes start to glisten in the glimmering candlelight behind him. Her insides were convulsing.

“Severus. Nothing that you’re saying makes any sense. If he’s going to try and kill me anyway, then what difference does it make one way or another if I come in the room.” She looked beaten. Her arms gesticulated in frustration. He could see now that her eyes were deeply fatigued, as well, her own face was pinched and sunk from grief, and something inside of him was sounding a dim alarm…the sound was far away, but his insides started to knot. He had not dared to hope, and…the question slunk through his mind….why had she risked so much to come here…..

She put both hands to her temples and bowed her head. “And…if ever I needed you, it would be now. Now. When I *am* in danger.” She put one hand up to her face and her expression broke. “I think….I have made my own mistake….I should not have come.” She looked up at him again, the clarity of her beautiful green eyes muddied with loss, swimming with tears. “You’re absolutely right, Severus. I should definitely not be here. I…have made my own horrible mistake.” Her right hand pressed into her forehead, trying to control herself, but she could not; she turned and began to walk as fast as she could away from him. His heart climbed up into his throat, and he broke out into a light cold sweat.

Severus stood there, immobile, the error of what he had done sliding over his skin in heavy, icy shock. She had been a precious gift; she had left a known home and had ventured here, unsure, but hopeful…and he was turning her away, using the excuse of protecting her to hide his own fearful cowardice in the face of what was being offered. They all left, but he saw that he had a choice, he was choosing to send her away, he knew he could not bear it if his intuition was wrong but she had given him protection once, he could not lie any longer to himself; she had risked so much, the other morning could have been more than what the derisive voice insisted it wasn’t….he had to find out; he beat his fear down. Severus bolted from the door and ran after her.

She was overcome by grief; her mind tore through her intuitive powers, cataloguing, and she began to wonder if they were, at long last, failing her. She barely saw the darkened corridor in front of her. He truly was a coward, so abused and twisted inside of himself that he could not hear her…what his own heart felt was even lost to him…..the crush of her disappointment was so great that she did not hear him run up to her, but suddenly he was pulling her around to him.

“Esmeralda. Esmeralda, come back. I was wrong.” She saw the weight of his sadness in the darkness of his eyes, but she was too overwhelmed herself to respond. She kept walking.

“Why. You’ve worked so hard to keep me away from you. Maybe this is the way it should be. I shouldn’t have come.” She pulled her arm away from him forcefully. Her jaw jutted, and she strode down the hall, her legs making her robes ripple with the focus of her motion forward. She wiped the tears from her eyes but more came in their place.

“Do you…..really mean that.” His eyes glittered at her as he followed her. She was furious.

“Frankly, I don’t know what I mean anymore. You’re too selfish to understand how much I need you. You hold me at a distance with your veiled barbs. I only partially understand what you’ve been through and you won’t really talk to me long enough to explain what’s happened to you to me. I’m worn out. I’m in a new place with new people around me, trying to be a teacher to dozens of young people and petrified on top of it…..and you are nobly trying to protect me by ignoring me! I thought I knew you. Maybe I don’t. Maybe I’ve just been fantasizing about how I want you to be. How stupid I’ve been.” She shook her head and started to walk faster. Her words were drilling through his skull; his chest started to tighten as he realized that her feet were not the only thing growing farther away from him. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder, and stopped her. “What.” She turned to him, and her eyes were awful; furious, red from weeping, but worst of all, hurt.

“Please.” Was all he could manage to squeeze out of rigid vocal cords. Standing there, he realized how horribly ill-equipped he was for this. He could feel her slipping away from him and the fear that this provoked inside of his heart was dire, it was worse than dying, because he could feel all of it…it threatened to shut down everything inside of him. There was a heavy weight on his chest, pressure rose in his head alarmingly quickly…was this what drowning felt like?

“Please what. I should go, Severus; say what you want and just let me leave.” She wiped her face. He closed his eyes.

“Please….please come back. I am so sorry.” He barely managed to get the words out. She looked at him sideways, and tilted her head at him. Tears welled in her eyes.

“Why? So that you can protect me again by overlooking me? What are we going to do, make love so that we can wake up in the morning and you can discard me, because something is slightly wrong? I’m not some sort of….concoction….you can just put back in a cupboard!” She stopped in the hall, so upset she could no longer move and speak at the same time; her arms crossed and her lower lip began to tremble. Strangely, her anger made her impossibly beautiful. He reached up very tentatively and tried to wipe the wetness from her cheek. She slapped his hand away with hers. Her eyes went black with fury. “How dare you. How can you even touch me….how *dare* you treat my love like it was some kind of….thing to be ignored.” He stopped, motionless.

“What did you say.” She heard the utter incredulity in his voice, and she froze, watching him. “What do you mean, ‘what did I say’….you heard what I said.’” Her anger fumed in waves around her.

“You said….” He was rigid. His mind had disengaged from his brain. She peered at him, surprise in every line of her face. He couldn’t breathe. It was as if time had stopped. He could feel her moving farther and farther away from him, and nothing seemed to work…his feet, his mind, his heart, had all stopped motion, she was disappearing before his eyes and he could not follow her. He was suffocated by loss. She had already gone.

“Severus…what did Voldemort *do* to you?” She moved away from him, as one would with a creature whose behavior was unpredictable. His eyes, though, were utterly destroyed. And she could smell him, the huge weight of hopelessness. She was standing right there in front of him, but she could feel that to him, she was nowhere in sight. She moved closer to him carefully.

“Severus…don’t you understand why I’m so upset?” She reached up carefully, her anger at bay, on hiatus in stunned shock, and put her hand on his cheek. He breathed in sharply, his eyes focused again on her. She was still here. He concentrated hard; he was having a difficult time thinking. The acuteness of his mind, the one functioning, rational piece of him, was not functioning properly. Was this the aftermath of crucio? What had the poisoning done to him? He began a slow panic.

“You’ve….always had a quick temper, Esmeralda.” He whispered. She could not have said what she did a minute ago….a hallucination, a dream. His heart was hammering. He reached up and held his temples with his palms.

“No. No, Severus, wrong…this is different, can’t you tell?” Her eyes beseeched him. Her hand was warm on his face, and his eyes closed before he could stop himself. “Do you think I would take you to my bed, and make love to you the way I did, if I were not in love with you myself? Do you think I would be this upset if my heart were not involved?” She watched him, his eyes sprang open. He had not dared to think, or to feel, that it was possible for her to love him the way he loved her. He checked the clarity of his mind, his ears; her hand…seemed real, her voice, the timbre of her voice was resonant in his skull.

“You’re…in love with me.” He stared at her. She tilted her head, her own brow furrowing in amazement. She was absolutely dumbfounded.

“Severus. What has happened to you? What happened while I was gone?” Her face broke, and she started to cry again. His arms worked once more, his body was obeying. He instinctively moved to her and held her and she didn’t push him away.

“I’m not like you, Esmeralda. I can’t….smell you, I can’t tell how you feel by touch the way you do.” His hand held her head to his neck as she wept.

“But….there’s something wrong. I can tell; there’s something broken inside of you that can’t hear me. Don’t you feel it?” She looked at him, grief-stricken.

“I hear you now. I….just didn’t hope to think that…you could ever love me back. You…flew out the window, after the dragon’s blood. You left. I had every reason to think that you were furious with me and I thought the only way to protect you was to…..stay away from you. You left me there. I had murdered Fafnaulda through my involvement with Voldemort, and I had put you in incredible danger; what was I to think? And you didn’t come back. I had no reason to hope, Esmeralda.” He looked away from her, his eyes distant, not seeing the dark stone walls around them. “And… everyone leaves.” He gave a small smile, but his eyes were round with sadness. She pushed away from him a bit. Her eyes bored into his, her mouth was grim.

“Listen to me. I’m *not* leaving you….do you understand? Severus, people don’t leave each other! You mean too much to me….I’ve come too far, Severus. You must understand, you did not kill Fafnaulda! Voldemort’s evil is relentless!” She had wrapped her hands in his robes and was shaking him, her eyes hard on him. He put one of his own hands on hers to calm her. She looked away from him fretfully. “And, oh, God damn it. He was right.” She shook her head and looked down at her feet.

“Who?” His voice was subdued.

“Dumbledore. He specifically told me not to go, and I should have listened…I should have listened to him! But I was too upset. I obviously have made my own mistakes.” Despairing, she let her head fall against his shoulder. “God. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It wasn’t just you. My own….fear cut me off from you. Please, come back to my rooms.” He was serious. There were no barbs, no sneering, no holding her at a distance with his usual cynicism. She stilled against him. “Please.” Severus’ hand came up and he embraced her tentatively again. They were both quiet for several seconds in the empty hallway. She knew a student might happen by any minute, even here in the dank dungeons of Hogwarts. He looked around, worried. Finally, she nodded.

“All right.” She tried to wipe her face dry. They walked back to his rooms together, and he closed the door behind them both, but he could not lift his head to her. There were so many layers of emotion between them that, through her own fatigue, she waited for him to unravel himself. It was dark in his office; there was only a solitary candle burning on his desk, and a portrait laid near the center, turned over now so that the picture it held was hidden. Her heart melted. It was late, and she knew they were both utterly emotionally wrung out. He finally lifted his head to meet her eyes; they glistened in the candlelight. He was motionless, but his eyes told her how his heart had missed her, how the nights had been, how much more distant to him the gift of her hope. She moved towards him cautiously. His eyes were guarded, full of fear, but his fingers were warm in hers. She stepped towards him, and not thinking any longer about words or explanations or the week that had passed, she wrapped herself around him and buried her face in his neck. He wreaked of horrendous sadness. His arms went around her and she thought he might crush her, but she clung all the more tightly to him. His right hand held her head so gently, all she could smell was his protective scent. She sank into his warmth, all of the gentleness that she had found within him.

“Severus. You cannot…you *cannot*…do this to me again. You’re going to destroy me.” Beyond her control, the emptiness and pain of the last days rose in her, and she wept raggedly, shaking against him; her hurt was so strong that tears sprang to Severus’ own eyes. “Do you understand?” One hand clawed at his chest; her tears ran hot down his neck, against his ear. She was wrapped around him. He held her delicately. “Couldn’t you tell, you strange man, how much I love you?” She began to weep again, completely undone.

“I didn’t know. I….don’t have a great deal of experience in this area.” He ran his hand through her hair. She was here. She was real; warm, alive against him. He outlined her temple with one finger, gently, unbelievingly. This wasn’t crucio; he wasn’t hallucinating; her love…was real.

“Severus, let me just spell it out for you again…I’m in love with you!” Her voice was shaking. The week had clearly taken its toll on both of them. He did not know what else to do; he held her until she stopped shaking against him. Hssedssed her hair; the scent of her was soft musk, a warm evening that beckoned to his skin, whispering with possibilities. Sadness was breaking up like an ice floe….reality was grounding him….she was here, next to him.

“I was….trying to protect you, I didn’t know you had fallen in love with me….I thought it was just attraction. I knew how I felt about you. But I was never sure how you felt about me. I see what kind of mistake I’ve made.” Severus whispered in her ear. “I am so sorry.” He tried to kiss the wetness from her eyes. She was having a difficult time stopping her tears.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know I was in love with you. How could you seriously not know?” Her eyes searched his face for some kind of sign, some kind of explanation.

“You taught me to…hope. But hoping….” His voice trailed off.

“What?” She shook him with both hands. “What?” Her eyes and her voice were incredulous.

“It….hurt. I couldn’t bear to hope. I had lived all my life with my love for you buried, Esmeralda. It was like a dim candle that I could always warm my hands by. But….I never thought….that you would love me back. That you would even….come back.”

“Severus, you danced with me; you kissed me in the dark behind The Three Broomsticks.” She was trying hard to understand how this damaged man thought.

“It was a fantasy. Being attracted to a person, and being in love with the person, are very different, Esmeralda. I had no reason to hope for my love returned. I still….have a hard time believing it is actually true.” She tugged on his robes where thatheathered at his shoulders. All of her…was here…her hands were warm on his shoulders, her eyes were alive on his face, he could see the anxiety, he could see the love there now…he wasn’t dreaming. This was real. Real. Something else was starting to wake up within him….his heart began to pound, slowing. The insides of his legs went cold with the welling of arousal held too long at bay.

“You’d better get used to it, and quickly. If you try and push me away again, Severus, we are through.” Her voice started to shake. “Do you understand? Promise me you understand.” Her eyes swept his with great urgency. “I absolutely cannot go through this again.” Her voice cracked.

“I promise. Esmeralda, my heart…is yours. My promise is binding. Please believe me.” He pulled her to him again tightly. She could feel the fragility there as well as the well of strength. She waited, waited for his scent to change, for the sadness to dissolve. She waited for her own grief to dissipate, but meanwhile she simply existed in his arms, the pulse of his throat against her jaw, the dark, spicy scent of his hair, the underlying muskier scent of his gender.

His scent changed, slowly, it rose up against her like a developing storm. Both of his hands came up to the back of her head and he moved his lips over hers like the proceeding breeze, soft, testing. His fingers were on her throat, but the feel was light, unbelieving. He brushed her lips with his again, she felt his disbelief, and waited for him understand that she wasn’t a fantasy, a figment….she waited for him to wake up to her. He tasted like the evening’s tea, like the ocean at night. She opened her mouth to his, her sadness shifting to the drumming pull of desire. She pressed into him, and ran her hands over his hips. He responded to her and pulled her into the kiss, and the crush of his desire was beyond her, beyond anything she had felt from him before. The smell of him around her went hot and dry, like an animal deprived too long of a vital thing. His mouth moved over her throat, her lips, his tongue inside of her. Her blood turned molten; her belly went numb from the suddenness of her own arousal.

His hands were under her robes, on her clothing, her shirt; somehow he had gotten the buttons undone while they were kissing and his fingers moved over her nipples too lightly; she rolled her head against the side of his at the feel of his hands on her flesh. He palmed her breasts carefully and she was panting against his cheek. Any kind of tentativeness he had had before when they were together was gone. His hands were suddenly off of her breasts and one hand was at the small of her back, and the other was around her hip, frantic on her skirt. Her own mouth was on his throat, her hands were on the hardness at his groin, pressing and stroking him. They both pulled at each other’s clothing in a kind of mounting hysteria. She did not care anymore where they were; she wasn’t thinking rationally; the pull of his arousal was so strong and their missing so awful that she didn’t care where they joined.

His hind brain was master now; his skin, his senses, in their entirety, had gone somewhere dark and elemental and had risen up with a mindless imperative that he was powerless to control. Pressed down for too long, for too many years, the agony of desire was beyond his rational mind to command. He could not control his body; He shoved her back very forcefully against the door but some small part of his mind that still worried, that still watched heard and felt no resistance from the woman; her hands welcomed his urgency with hard joy. His hands were under her robes, then over her buttocks; she brought one leg up around his hip and he entered her, fast. She was hot and alive around him, he couldn’t believe the muscularity of her. Both of them gasped in shock at the feel of the other; Severus’ right arm wrapped around her left leg and he pushed into her like an animal in blind heat. The sound that came out of him was high pitched, a strangled groan. Esmeralda had her arms around his lower back and was urging him faster, pulling him into her with just as much aggression. He was bucking up into her too fast, but she was completely urging him on. He feltincrincredibly good, her skin was crawling in pleasure so fast, the mindlessness of it, the danger of it….he was thrusting up into her furiously, in monstrous, desperate hunger, and she realized in growing distress, through her own parched need, the peril he was in. Abruptly, unbelievably, she was pushing him away.

“Severus….Severus….” He could hear the panting, the worry in her voice, he tried to slow, but couldn’t stop. “Severus….stop, stop… Her voice was breathless and utterly upset. “You’ve got to stop.” She was pressing on his belly, gently, insistently. But he could tell she didn’t want to stop….something was wrong. He tried, hard, to rein in his skin, his shaking frame.

“Am I hurting you.” His heart was pounding, his whole body was screaming for the woman around him. But he slowed. He was clinging to her, his eyes were closed, his mouth cotton-dry.

“No, you’re not hurting me.” She swallowed, working hard to still herself against him. “My…transfiguration…the last time I took the potion….it was 24…maybe 25 hours ago…and, you didn’t make it, Severus. I did.” He went cold, and bowed his head against her.

“What should we do.” It was so difficult to stop, he was shaking so tightly against her….her breath was hot on his neck.

“Your bed. If I turn over, you won’t get hurt….I could bite you accidentally if I’m not turned away from you….it won’t feel any different to you, internally, but…the wings are a little shocking, as well as…the shape of my face. Do you think you could do it?” She bowed her head against him, trying to control herself. He felt so good. “We could….just stop.” He finally crumpled against her. He stilled.

“No. I don’t mind. I just….just give me a minute to calm down.” He felt her relax against him…..and he knew, clearly, that he was in love with her. The realization of this was like a small sun going off in a very dark place. Very reluctantly he pulled away from her. He gathered the clothing up. She looked over at him and laughed softly and low; it sounded like music to him.

“Severus. You’ve got nothing but your tunic on; I didn’t know you had such nice legs.”

“Oh. Ha.” He said tiredly. His erection had subsided somewhat in the colder air. She took his hand.

“I’m very sorry about this. I just…can’t risk you getting hurt….I didn’t know.” She whispered against him as they moved into the bedroom.

“It’s all right.” He growled, but his voice was hushed. “I’ve been a blind fool, as you pointed out. I simply….assumed you did not feel about me the way I’ve felt about you. It’s been….a bad year, Esmeralda.” His mouth was drawn. She could still see the stress in his face, and in his demeanor. She squeezed his shoulder. They got into the bedroom and he unbuttoned his tunic, and unclothed himself. She finished taking off her blouse. She admired him in the dim light of the room; there was some moonlight, but it was thin, coming into his small bedroom at an angle. He was slender, and pale; the dark hair at his groin stood out in stark contrast to the alabaster of his skin. His legs were long and evenly muscled, but the shadows of the room accentuated his gracefulness. He was quite striking in an austere, sleek way, and suddenly it took her breath away.

“My god, you’re handsome.”

“Ha!” he barked softly.

“No. No, really, Severus. You’re….absolutely beautiful.” Her voice sounded stunned.

“Really.” He reached for her and fac face stilled, realizing that she wasn’t teasing him.

“Really.” She whispered. He embraced her again gently, his hands on the velvet of her buttocks as his mouth kissed around her lips delicately. His erection returned. She steered him towards the bed as he kissed her.

“I hope this thing is the right height.” She whispered into his neck.

“I don’t know if it will be.” He answered truthfully. She stopped for a moment before she turned to the bed, abruptly curious about his past.

“Haven’t you ever had anyone with you, in your own bedroom?” She peered at him in the shadows of the room. His face stilled again, and he regarded her, and the question. His eyes were unreadable.

“No, I haven’t.” He did not elaborate. She pressed into him.

“Why?” He had gone completely still.

“There has been nobody.” He hesitated, thinking. “Well. Since the Slytherin episode of my youth, I slept with anyone that I needed to, male, female….it didn’t matter. I did…what I had to do. And then, I learned better. I made that very bad mistake….” She stroked his arm. He sighed deeply. “And also after that, I learned the difference between love and manipulation. At one point, I was thoroughly attracted to Sirius Black, but I did not recognize it for what it was. I did not have the tools to understand that the anger I felt towards him hid a deeper feeling; before I could understand that, he was dead. And there was no one here that…I loved.” His eyes were looking down at the floor. “What about you?” His eyes met hers, and Severus’ heart stilled looking at her. She was beautiful, the most beautiful person he had ever known; her eyes looked like green sea-glass, and they shone with the clear light of her spirit. Her mouth turned in a small, reminiscimilemile and she looked down shyly for a moment.

“Oh. I had affairs. With men. And two male dragons. I’ve not been attracted to women, but I don’t really care one way or the other. The men were just available, but no one that I felt deeply about. Actually, one of the dragons was my dearest friend, Dunsire. We slept together, but it was relatively casual. Severus….” Her lips tightened. “….part of me feels like….I should have been here with you. I knew who I loved. I had fallen in love with you before I left, but I was very young. I just….wanted to get out into the world, and live, and travel…and….part of me seriously regrets not being here for you. I almost feel like…..I could have….helped steer you away from all of that mess before. But…on the other hand, maybe if I’d stayed, it would have ruined our relationship. Maybe it was something you needed to learn yourself, you know? I needed to be with the dragons. Things simply were the way they were, for very specific reasons.” She sighed and ran her hands through her hair.

“Oh. You would have seriously hated me when I was 20. I was absolutely insufferable.” He sniffed. She laughed at him throatily.

“And you’re not now?” She continued to laugh easily, her eyes sparkling. He drew himself up.

“I resent that! Do I need to take points off from Gryffindor?” But his eyes were soft, and he unexpectedly kissed her neck, pulling her to him quickly. She didn’t try to get away. She laughed against him, and Severus thought his heart would burst. He grinned at her shyly, and she moved the hair out of his eyes.
He kissed her softly, enjoying the warmth of her skin, the warmth of her hands on his own flesh.

“Well, here goes nothing.” She leaned against the bed, facing away from him, and he stood behind her, and entered her again, feeling her tense up as the pulsing heat of her surrounded him once more.

“Is this all right?” he asked, and leaned against her; it felt fine to him, the angle was correct. She nodded mutely and pressed back into him. And this was very different…he ran his hands over her back, feeling her muscularity, the round velvet of her buttocks. He pushed into her gently and she arched back against him, crying. His thrusts were slow. His fingers found purchase in the flesh around her hipbones. His own sounds were soft and breathless. Esmeralda twisted against him, tensing and pushing into him as he moved inside of her regularly. They were like that for some time; their breathing became as one, and he was focused only on her, the signals of her body on his. He was so in love with her that his hands were shaking on her as they ran over the length of her back, the roundness of her hips. She began to sob under him, and he sped up as her orgasm began to build. She was twisting underneath him and crying, she was compressing around him and Esmeralda started to change. He did not stop, his thrusts became shorter. He was very close to coming, and he could feel that she was, as well.

“Severus…oh…..god……….turn your head…oh…….my god…” she was pulsing underneath him, bucking back into him, and she transformed so quickly, in a flash of flesh to gleaming black….she was right…the wings were huge, spread out to either side of the room, the color of gray sea kelp, and the shock of it stopped his orgasm, but not hers. She was contorting on the bed, but he could not close his eyes…the smell of the center of heat, the feel of the scales against his belly, the sheer difference of her….he continued to move inside of her, he felt her contract around him spasmodically with her own orgasm, and her groans turned to throttled roars. Her taloore ore at the bed’s covers…if she was muscular, the part of her that was a dragon was seething with strength….her tail, long, finely scaled, and smooth, was heavy but lithe against his belly and chest, and it wrapped quickly back and under his armpit, across his back, and the tip came to rest gently wrapped around the back of his neck. Its presence stunned him, but for her sake he did not stop. Finally the beast stopped quivering and she transformed slowly back; she was panting, her body covered in a fine sweat.

“Are you all right.” Her right hand reached behind her and grabbed his; he leaned over and took it.

“Yes. Yes. Fine.” He had stopped, and rested over her. He kissed her spine, the skin over her shoulder blade.

“Did you…finish?” He shook his head against her. Her breathing grew more regular. “Was that too much for you?” She was worried; he squeezed her hand in response.

“No, it wasn’t too much. I just…it was a bit of a shock….I’m just trying to regain my bearings.” She squeezed herself around him and he gasped.

“Do you want me to turn over.”

“No. This is fine. Esmeralda.”

“What is it, my love?” The side of her head that was turned to him moved in the darkness; he could feel her eye trying to see him.

“I’m in love with you.” She laughed.

“I know. I’m in love with you as well. You’re not in this alone, you know. Don’t forget.” She squeezed his hand hard. He moved off of her and stood up again. She groaned softly.

“Do you mind?” He stroked the small of her back, feeling the fine, velvet hairs there.

“No; you feel very good inside of me, Severus. Take your time.” He closed his eyes. His arousal returned forcefully, coiling deeply through his belly and around his groin; he pressed into her and she gasped. She closed her eyes and her mouth parted slightly. His own pace was much slower and the lack of her urgency was different; she was more relaxed around him, but she was listening to him, listening to his rhythm, and she contracted around him and squeezed him, very gently. His hands ran over her buttocks, the sides of her thighs. She was so warm and fluid, so alive around him. He was lost in the kindness of her, her love was real….the warmth of her love moved through him, through his belly, suffusing the chamber of his heart; the rime of frost there began to melt, turning to a vapor of warmth from the love in her hands, her body. He leaned over her and his eyes closed again as the pleasure, the warmth arced suddenly. His thrusts quickly grew shorter and more erratic. His body tensed against her, closer to her, and Esmeralda began to pant herself. Houndounds were choking and high; she ran one hand against his right thigh, and she pushed back and caressed him, forceful this time. She could feel his whole body halt, shaking tensely against her and his thrusts became deeply, slowly urgent as he came. His breath hitched, gasping. He slowed, stopped; his torso relaxed and covered hers and in the darkness, their hands coiled around one another. They did not move for several minutes.

Finally he stood up and gently removed himself from her. She turned over and pulled herself up on the bed, and he laid down beside her and waited for his breathing to return to normal. She ran her hand tentatively down the long muscles on either side of his spine.

“Listen. You must promise me….you must tell me that you understand how much I love you…….repeat this, Severus.” She was serious; she had put her hand on his arm firmly. He stilled on the bed.

“I understand. I promise.”

“All right.” She watched him, checking for hesitancy, but there was none. He pulled himself to her and hid his face in her hair. “I promise.” He repeated. She could feel him breathing. His sadness was gone. Instead, there grew between them a warm, warping net of shelter. She could feel it; the last vestiges of her own sadness faded and her hope for them crept back up. She could feel his heart opening, a shy, bruised rose. She held his head to hers.

“Time for bed. We have to teach tomorrow, you know.”

“Yes, yes, I am all too aware of the wolf at the door.” His voice was softer than usual, subdued. They both wormed under the covers. She kissed his shoulder, and wrapped her arm around his torso, her breath on the back of his neck.

“Oh.” He made a vastly annoyed noise, and suddenly he tossed the sheets off of him, and sprang out of bed.

“Whatever are you doing? Severus?” Her voice already sounded sleepy.

“I have to attend to something. Don’t fret; I’ll be back shortly. Just….go to sleep, will you.” He kept his voice low, a growl of a whisper. He moved off into his offices.

Esmeralda laid back in his bed, and looked at the ceiling. His rooms were quite old, but tidy, though the ceiling was cracked and lichens were growing there in the shadows. She was still very worried about him. He was damaged, but essentially kind. She wasn’t sure what kind of help she could give him, but she knew that she would help him….the poisoning had damaged him, and god knows what the abuse had done. She had already been witness to that. Worst of all, she knew she was going to have to be patient and that would be her test as well. She closed her eyes and waited for him to come back.

She woke up. Severus was shaking her gently. “What?” She was groggy. She opened her eyes a crack.

“Here. Drink this. It’s your potion.” He smiled, very smug. She took the goblet from him, and grinned sleepily.

“I should have known. You randy creature.” She laughed deeply. She raised her eyebrows and the glass to him. “Your health.” She drained the glass, grimacing. He took the glass from her, and she rolled over. She was vaguely aware of him crawling back into bed. Sleep, finally, came smoothly and the last thing she remembered was the rise and fall of his chest under her arm.


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