What Have I Done?

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter Ten

Sorry I haven't posted in a bit, real life and all that hogwash. I realize that there aren't that many lemons in my story and I thank you for reading it anyway. I promise that Larentia is going to make a decision and seeing as which area I've posted in, I think we all know who she's going with, don't we? Funny, this started as a bit of porn with slight plot and look at it now.


Larentia found herself waiting anxiously for the lunch hour the next day. Severus had promised he’d come to take her for another walk and she was looking forward to their time alone. When the doors to the Hospital opened, however, she was disappointed. Dumbledore walked to her bedside with his characteristic smile and twinkling eyes. She’d hoped for someone a little less perky. Someone in black. Someone for whom sarcasm was a vital part of the English language.

Albus kissed her cheek paternally and sat down in the chair beside the bed. “You could at least pretend to be happy to see me.” He teased.

She rolled her eyes and gave him a lopsided grin. “I am happy to see you. It’s just you’re not who I expected.”

“Ah, yes. I’m afraid he’s been a bit delayed.” Albus answered, in his all knowing way. “I trust you told them both you would need time to make a decision.”

Larentia nodded. She’d long since given up shock, surprise, or irritation at Albus seemingly unending knowledge about the happenings in Hogwarts, or the Wizarding world in general. The man could be eerie in his information, but it was just a part of who he was. She learned early on that lying wasn’t an option with him, not that she’d ever leaned toward lying anyway. No, Albus was someone with whom truth was paramount. And he’d instilled it within her. Hard to believe given her current situation, she thought.

“You’ve put yourself in a truly unenviable position, my dear. I have no doubts, however, that you’ll unstick yourself soon enough.”He looked toward her gift laden table, probably searching for something sweet.

She reached over and grabbed a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavored Beans. Tossing them to him, she grinned at his look of distaste. “That’s right, earwax, wasn’t it?”

He sat the box back on the table and withdrew a bar of chocolate. “May I?” He asked, unnecessarily. She nodded and watched as he opened the candy and took a healthy bite. “Trust me to have a goddaughter born with the smallest sweet tooth imaginable.”

“Oh, Albus, look at the bright side. What I don’t eat goes to you.” She said laughing. “I think there’s a few more chocolate frogs there too. And please, take the sugarquills.”

Dumbledore pocketed the sweets and turned back to Larentia. “I know it’s not easy, choosing between them, but in the long run it’ll be for the best.”

“I know, really I do. I just don’t think I can bear hurting one of them.” She turned her attention to her hands. “But I definitely don’t want them fighting over me. It’s difficult enough without worrying about them dueling.”

“I have faith that they are mature enough to not rely on their wands to fix this.” He said, taking one of her hands in his own. “Have faith in yourself to choose the right wizard for you.”

She was nodding her agreement when the Hospital door opened and in swirl of black Severus strode in. She sat up straighter, her smile wide. Bloody hell, she thought, I probably look quite the fool. Albus had a rather improper grin on his face too, the meddler.

Severus turned straight toward her bed as soon as he opened the door. She sat with Dumbledore, and they both looked rather giddy. What could they be up to, he wondered. He walked to the other side of her bed and, disregarding rumors or nosy interlopers, he tilted her chin up with his finger and brushed her lips with his. Her eyes had fallen closed as he descended, but as he drew up they opened and locked on his. Gods, she was beautiful. He turned and offered a nod to the Headmaster before sitting in the chair opposite him.

“Severus,” Dumbledore said, still grinning. “Larentia, I really must be off.” He stood and bent to kiss her cheek again. “I have it under good authority you’ll be leaving the ward in a day or so. I may not be back before then to visit so I insist we have tea soon.” He turned to leave, but, as though remembering something important, turned back. “And Severus, I’d like a word with you after classes today.”

Again Severus nodded. What the blazes could the old coot want now? Probably going to ask me to make it easier on all involved and drop my interest in Larentia. Think again, Headmaster, think again. He turned to face Larentia and saw her watching him. She seemed unashamed to have been caught staring and offered him a dizzying smile.

“I do believe we have a date,” he said, holding out an arm to help her from the bed. “A walk on the grounds, mediwitch orders.”

And so went her final three days in the Hospital. Severus always appeared at lunch to take her for her daily walk, which they filled with getting to know you talk. She learned that had a passion for Muggle literature, despite his position as head of a rather anti-Muggle house. He knew of her fear of ducks (“creepy creatures, all that quacking and don’t get me started on their beaks”) and how her father had tried to remedy it with a duckling gift to disastrous results. She knew his childhood wasn’t pleasant, that his parents were witch and Muggle and that his father didn’t appreciate the magical blood that flowed in either his, nor his mother’s veins.

Inevitably, however, they’d been interrupted by Remus. Each day he’d appear, just when they felt closest, as though he had radar for their conversations. They’d stop what they were talking about, deciding to turn back rather than fight against the awkwardness of the moment, but they never completely lost the feeling that they were getting closer. In spite of Remus’ interference they’d pick right back up the next day.

Severus grew bolder, as well, now kissing her goodbye as well as hello. Remus didn’t appreciate the new partings, but he held his tongue, knowing his muttering would get him nowhere with Larentia. He was doing quite a good job of masking his urge to curse Snape into oblivion every time they came across one another, even with the triumphant smirk he was wearing. Oh, Remus thought, you may think you have her, but what we have is deeper.

Larentia, throughout the walks and the return of quiet Remus, was no closer to choosing between the two wizards. Remus, she thought, would always have a piece of her heart. It was different now, she conceded, they weren’t as comfortable with one another. It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop. She’d seen him at his absolute worst, and survived, but where do they go from here? Could she just forget the murderous look in his eyes, just pretend he wouldn’t have hurt Severus if she hadn’t stepped in? More importantly, did she want to?

Severus, on the other hand, was new and he’d stood by her when he could have rushed off and played unconcerned. He was taking pains to get to know her, to learn about who she was and what she liked. Granted, Remus already knew quite a bit about her, but it seemed that they’d gotten to know each other by accident and moved from there. With Severus she was going backward. She looked at him through different eyes, knowing more about him, about what made him tick, well as much as he’d allow her to know. He wasn’t exactly the most open person, but she could understand that.

With her release came more questions than answers. Now that she was free from the confines and orders of the resident medi-witch, how would things work? Would Remus continue to live in her rooms? Did she want Remus to continue to live in her rooms? And Severus, now that there weren’t mandatory walks to take would he continue to go out of his way to see her? She didn’t have to wonder if she wanted him to, she did. And what did that mean?

“Is your head hurting, Professor?” Madame Pomfrey’s voice broke through her internal battle. “Perhaps...”

“No, no my head isn’t hurting,” she lied. “I was just thinking about everything I want to do when I get to my rooms.” Wrong answer.

“Now you’re not to overstimulate yourself just yet,” Madame Pomfrey frowned. “You want to take it easy. I’m letting you go back to your full class schedule only because the Headmaster swears to me you won’t be pushing yourself too hard.”

Larentia forced herself not to grimace. It was true, Albus had come and talked to the medi-witch and promised that she wouldn’t be doing anything too strenuous. How strenuous could teaching History of Magic get, she wondered. But this “taking things easy” talk was wearing thin. She was fine now, thanks to Madame Pomfrey, so why couldn’t she finally get back to her normal life?

“I won’t,” she promised, mentally crossing her fingers. “I just want to get to my rooms, take a long, hot bubble bath, and read until bedtime. Nothing overstimulating in that, is there?”

Madame Pomfrey looked like she didn’t quite believe her, but nodded. “Yes, if you do JUST that, you should be fine. Just remember, you’ve had quite the trauma. Your body is healed, yes, but it takes some time for your mind to catch up.”

After a few more minutes of assuring the medi-witch she wouldn’t be contemplating backflips off the Astronomy Tower, she was free. She walked up the silent hallways, past portraits that offered welcome back greetings, toward her rooms. It was early morning Sunday and she was happy not to meet any over enthusiastic students or “happy to see you” coworkers. Just a quiet end to a far too long stay in the hospital. The plans she told Madame Pomfrey of were sounding very good to her right now and she thought she’d add having lunch and dinner in her rooms to the list. She wasn’t ready yet to deal with the gossiping majority and was willing to put it off for as long as she could.

Maybe all she needed was a day without Remus or Severus around for her thoughts to clear. Then she could make her decision. The decision that would surely hurt at least one person. She groaned. There was no way to make this easier.

Larentia found herself standing in front of the portrait that guarded her rooms. A prickle on the back of her neck caused her to turn, but there was nothing there. Nothing except the wall that Severus backed her up against and kissed her. Where she’d stood naked beneath a cloak and baited him into her web as surely as a spider does his prey. She turned back to the portrait and was just about to say the password when it was offered by a voice beside her.

“I believe the password is ‘Lavender Dreams’,” Severus said, drawing closer to her. He’d seen her staring at the spot along the castle wall where he’d pressed her, kissing her before they ended up in her rooms. She had such a sad look on her face just then, like it had all been a mistake and his heart clenched. She was looking up at him now, a hint of something in her eyes, but he wasn’t sure what it was and refused to try Legilimency on her. No, her thoughts were her own and he’d wait patiently for her to tell him what she was feeling.

“Severus,” she whispered his name and his mind flashed to her writhing beneath him, offering his name to him like a prayer.

The portrait had swung open, yet they both just stood there, waiting. His head lowered, as though of it’s own accord, and she lifted her own in offering. Their lips touched, as they had frequently over the past few days, but this time it was though someone had stoked a fire. Her mouth opened under his and he sighed before tasting her. His hands cradled her head as her arms snaked around his neck. She pressed her body into his and he could swear they were both fevered from the heat he felt. He pulled back, nipping at her lower lip and kissing her nose. Her eyes opened and he found himself praying she didn’t regret him, didn’t regret what they’d done, what they’d continue to do if he had his way. He realized at that moment, if she didn’t pick him, he’d be broken again, just like all those years before.

She looked into the black depths of his eyes and wished for a moment that she could know what he was thinking. She knew he was feeling something, from the way his length was poking her through their clothes. Please, she thought, don’t let this just be a way for him to win against the Marauders. She felt his hand settle on her lower back and she let her own reach around to cup his cheek. She considered for a moment what her life would be like if she chose Severus. She let herself wonder whether she’d have to move to the dungeons (Probably, he was Head of House after all). Would the warmth fade? The urge to tear at his buttons, to rid them both of their clothes and make love until they were panting, would that dim?

“Lovely scene,” a familiar voice offered calmly from behind her. “Although I’m thinking that Professor Dumbledore did warn us about the gossip involved in this sort of thing.”

She watched Severus’ face change from slightly softer to full on glare mode. She didn’t have to turn to know that Remus had caught them, again. Honestly does he have some sort of tracing spell on me to know when I’m getting comfortable with Severus, she wondered. Reluctantly she pulled away from Severus’ embrace. He was right, Albus had warned her about the portraits’ gossip mongering, and yet here she was, giving them more to talk about.

“Welcome home,” Remus offered, widening his arms for a hug. She stepped into his embrace and cringed inside for doing this in front of Severus. “I was wondering why the portrait opened and no one stepped inside. I suppose you’ve been a bit-“ he looked toward Snape, “detained.”

Larentia watched the two men glare at each other and wondered if she was being to rash in not letting this just be finished in a duel. At least then the decision would be out of her hands. Even considering that made her feel childish and dirty. Neither deserved to be maimed for her and for some reason she felt that they’d both be aiming to do the most damage possible.

“Well as wonderful as this little homecoming has been,” she said with a false smile. “I promised Madame Pomfrey I would take it easy today and there’s a bath calling my name.” She moved toward the open portrait hole. “Severus, thank you for welcoming me home. I’ll see you tomorrow. Remus, I suppose I will see you inside.” She walked inside and closed the portrait behind her, wanting to not hear whatever the two of them would say to one another.

She walked purposely to the bath and ignored the worrying thoughts that kept invading her mind. They wouldn’t draw wands, Albus had said as much. She drew her bath and forced herself into the hot water teaming with bubbles. They’d just have to show their maturity this time. She bit her lip in worry and listened for Remus’ return.

Outside in the hallway stood two very irritated wizards. Although both were irritated for different reasons, the heart of the irritation was the same. She really needed to make a decision, they both thought, so this git can go his own way (See, Albus was right, they really were a lot alike).

“Go back to your dungeons, Snape,” Remus ordered through clenched teeth.

Severus glared back. “I think you are under the mistaken impression that you can tell me what to do in this castle. You see, I’m a PROFESSOR here and you,” he pointed, emphasizing his point. “Are a pet.”

Remus drew his wand faster than Severus would have given him credit for, but not nearly as fast as he himself did. He tsked at the werewolf condescendingly.

“Now, now, Lupin, remember what the Headmaster said.” He smirked, liking having the upper hand. “And do you really think that Larentia would appreciate your input on her decision?”

And having the last word, he turned with a swish of his robes and walked calmly away, knowing the pup wouldn’t have it in him to toss a curse at his back.

Remus watched the arrogant bastard leave and swore under his throat. Then it dawned on him, Severus had to go back to the dungeons but he was free to spend the rest of the day with Larentia in their rooms. Smirking now too, he turned back to the portrait and offered the password. He’d show that greasy bastard.