The Name in Red **COMPLETE**

Hello everyone! I apologize for the even-longer-than-usual delay in updating.

Would a LEMON be a nice treat for putting up with the delay?! I sure hope so!!

Enjoy chapter 15! Warning, Lemon ahead! ;D


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Name in Red.

Chapter 15: Making Headlines.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Sarah's mood didn't improve any over the course of the rest of the day. She spent most of it lying on her bed, staring up at the stone ceiling. She felt complete and utter disappointment. Only this morning, she had been excited, and felt like all the answers she had been looking for were right at her fingertips. Everything felt as if it had been right in her grasp. She was finally going to find out why. Failing that, she would at least find out something. She and Harry had planned carefully, and they had even pulled it off successfully. What they came out with, however, were a pair of useless files on a couple of Muggles somewhere in Surrey who had accidentally seen something they weren't supposed to. It felt as if she had been running along a hallway, with the answers at the end; before she reached it, she slammed into an impervious brick wall.

What a waste of time and effort. It had nearly gone awry, too. She didn't even want to think about what might have happened if the Decoy Detonators and darkness powder hadn't been enough to get them out of that mess. Someone definitely knew that something was going on, and they came very close to being caught. They had gotten away clean, but with nothing to show for it. Sarah resigned herself to the fact that she would never know exactly how or why she had been kept from the magical world. She would just have to come to terms with the fact that, for whatever reason, most of her life had been miserable and she was just now learning that she was years behind on the education she should have been getting all along.

Lying on her back in bed, she sighed deeply. She couldn't remember ever feeling this flat-out disappointed. Turning over onto her side, she was now facing her night stand. Sitting next to her small bottle of Amortentia were the two files that she and Harry had taken from the Ministry. Harry had instructed her to keep them somewhere in her room so they wouldn't be anywhere that Ron (and by extension, Hermione or Ginny) might happen upon them.

They were completely useless to her, but that hadn't stopped her from examining them time and time again and wistfully wondering what the file might look like if it had read "Garrend, Sarah" instead of "Garrend, Geoffrey" or "Garrend, Elizabeth". What might the file look like? What would it say? What mysteries would it explain? She thought she had only been inches away from discovering these things. Unfortunately, she had been wrong. In short order, she had both of the files completely memorized for absolutely no reason aside from a bad mix of boredom and disappointment.

To cap it all off, it was Sunday, and that meant she didn't have a lesson to look forward to in the evening. Part of her wanted to see Snape again, but another part of her was horribly embarrassed at having drunkenly wandered into his embraces the previous night. She probably made a complete fool of herself. What must he think of her? She couldn't deny that she did want to see him, but she knew that working up the courage to seek him out would probably require a great deal more alcohol, and she wasn't much feeling up to having another terrible hangover. She didn't have any of that wonderful little potion left.

It isn't like Monday is far off, she thought to herself. She sighed. Who am I kidding? With the day's disappointing events, time seemed to be crawling by, and tomorrow evening felt an eternity away. Somehow, she had managed to slow time down before.

If only she could now manage to speed it up.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Sarah did not leave her room for the rest of the afternoon, except to eat. All through supper, her mood was still grim, and Harry's wasn't much better. Their meal was relatively subdued, and no one talked much at all. Sarah poked halfheartedly at her food, and Harry would shoot her a concerned glance every so often. He was almost as disappointed as she was. He was used to all of his little risky undertakings being very successful, save for maybe the Godric's Hollow disaster. Other than that, he always seemed to have perfect luck, or seemed to get just what he was after. This time, he hadn't.

Despite this, he felt that he could have. The strange-looking file in the back of the drawer haunted his mind. Perhaps it had been another Garrend. Perhaps it had been Sarah's file, the file that they were looking for. In his haste due to the deteriorating conditions outside of the records hall, he hadn't gone for it. If only he had reached back a little further. Things might be different. If he had, maybe Sarah would not look as if she had just suffered a dementor's kiss.

Harry kept waiting on tenterhooks for Ron, Hermione, or Ginny to speak up and say something about Sarah's evident state of depression, but Ron seemed as absorbed as ever in his food, and Hermione appeared very occupied with her issue of The Evening Prophet.

Thankfully, Harry avoided the awkwardness of having someone say something, and Sarah retired from the table to go back up to her room long before the rest of them had even finished eating.

Soon after, the rest of them were headed back up to Gryffindor tower. Ginny and Ron, talking animatedly about something Quidditch-related, stepped through the portrait hole in front of Harry and Hermione. Eager to pursue their conversation, Harry was just about to step in after them when he was stopped. Hermione shot her arm out in front of him like a blockade, and the portrait hole swung closed before he could enter.

"Hey, what was that for?" he exclaimed, stepping back from her arm. She shot him a dour look and slammed something papery into his chest. She crossed her arms after he took it from her.

Harry looked down at what Hermione had given him, and then looked back up at her again. She was still glaring. Apparently, whatever he had done was supposed to be self-explanatory. He unfolded the paper.

"The Evening Prophet?" he asked, laying eyes on the top of the front page. "What's this for?"

Hermione sighed.

"Read it," she said, her tone slightly annoyed.

Harry narrowed his eyes in confusion. Looking back down at the Prophet, he read the front page. The headline jumped out at him in large, bold lettering.

MINISTRY SECURITY COMPROMISED

Earlier today, shortly before the hour of noon, Ministry officials report that security within the Ministry of Magic was briefly compromised. The disturbance occurred within the Obliviator Headquarters, where it is believed that one or more persons may have gained access to the records hall which contains detailed information about every Ministry-ordered Obliviation or Memory Modification since the department's inception. The break-in appears to have been done by means of an impostor.

"I don't know what happened to me," says the Obliviation Headquarters' Chief Archivist, Edward Skyvale. It was first reported that Edward himself was the cause of this strange security breach, but he was later found outside the Ministry without any recollection of the events whatsoever. "I was on my way into work, just like every morning, and just before I got there, I started feeling funny. Then I must have blacked out. When I came to, there were Aurors everywhere, and as soon as I came out of where I ended up, they swarmed me. Said I was the one they were looking for, oddly enough." Skyvale has been interrogated, and a Ministry-approved Legilimens has since corroborated his story.

Below this paragraph there was a photograph of the Obliviator Headquarters. Several wizards were scrambling around frantically, investigating the small explosions that had been set off within the office, and trying to clear away the mysterious dark cloud.

Without finishing the entire article, Harry looked up at Hermione. His eyes were wide, and despite his efforts to remain nonchalant, his face colored a little. She smirked at him.

"Do you really expect me to believe that you didn't have anything to do with that?" she asked him, arms still crossed. "I've never seen anyone look so glum after a trip into Hogsmeade, even after Zonko's went out."

Harry sighed. It was pointless to argue. If only they hadn't created such a stir; maybe it wouldn't have made the papers, and then Hermione might not be any the wiser.

"Alright," Harry ceded, "It was us. We went in this morning. We didn't quite mean to make it such an ordeal."

"And how did you accomplish this?" she asked, although she really already knew the answer. She just wanted to know exactly how Harry had managed to brew effective Polyjuice potion right under her nose in such a short amount of time, or where he had gotten his hands on some of it ready-made.

Before answering, Harry glanced around. The torches were still burning and corridor was mostly dark, but empty aside from them. Except for the Fat Lady, of course. Upon seeing the Fat Lady's rapt expression, Harry took Hermione by the arm and led her into an adjacent corridor which was occupied by some less-nosy portraits. Once there, he glanced around again to be sure they were still alone. Satisfied that they were, he responded.

"Polyjuice," he stated simply. "I was Polyjuiced, and Sarah was under the cloak."

"And how did you-?" Hermione pressed, but Harry cut her off.

"Professor Snape had some left over," Harry explained, "From back when Slughorn made a bunch of it in sixth year. Malfoy stole most of it, remember? But there was still a tiny bit of it left in his storeroom."

"And you managed to get into his storeroom and steal it?" she asked. It would have been optimistic to the point of foolishness to imagine that Snape had simply allowed Harry to take the item in question.

Hermione knew that getting into Snape's storeroom and stealing it successfully had probably been more of a feat than getting into the Ministry safely.

"Yes," said Harry.

"How-?"

"I had a little help," Harry said dryly, smirking to himself. His face colored a little when he recalled that particular night's events, and what he had seen. When he saw Hermione's confused expression, his next words simply slipped out without a second thought. "Sarah distracted him for me."

As soon as he realized what he said, his eyes went wide, and he clapped his hand to his mouth. Hermione gasped.

"You're making her an accessory in all this, Harry!" she scolded him. "You had her break into Snape's storeroom, and then break into the Ministry! Do you know how much trouble you could have gotten her into? It's extremely generous of Professor McGonagall to let her stay and study here! What if Professor Snape had caught her? Or, or-"

Harry snorted to himself and cut her off again.

"Professor Snape caught her alright," he said sarcastically. As soon as he had, he was mentally kicking himself and screaming inside of his head. Why had he said that? Now Hermione was sure to know something funny was going on. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, face still slightly colored.

"What do you...?" Hermione began, but she quickly noticed Harry's blush, and his facial expression of 'I wish I hadn't just said that'.

At that moment, everything fell into place inside her brilliant mind. Sarah sure acted strangely flustered when it came to discussing Snape in any capacity, and she frequently looked nervous enough to be sick before her lessons. She knew what this must mean, and from this she was able to form a rudimentary idea of how exactly Sarah had managed to distract Snape in order to allow Harry the opportunity to steal the Polyjuice from inside the storeroom. Hermione gasped again.

"You don't mean they're-?" she began loudly, sounding astonished, but Harry immediately shushed her and glanced around frantically.

"Shhh! Don't go shouting it!" he whispered loudly. He then sighed, disappointed with himself. "I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. She'll hate me. I don't know what exactly they're doing, and I certainly don't know why, but they're doing... something."

Hermione's eyes were wide. She knew that Sarah wasn't technically a Hogwarts student, but the idea of anyone having some kind of relationship with one's teacher was still extremely scandalous.

"How did you find out, then?" she asked.

"By accident, actually," Harry admitted. "I was going up to Sarah's room to tell her something, and well... there they were, snogging."

"Right in the hallway?" Hermione gasped loudly.

Harry shushed her again, eyes wide.

"Someone's got to do something," Hermione continued, "What if he's-? I mean, she's so young, compared to... It's not that I don't-," Hermione spat out rapidly, struggling to marshal her racing thoughts. Her facial expressions were shifting wildly between concern, shock, and an odd sort of amusement. A student-teacher relationship, let alone a student-Snape relationship, was mind-boggling and strange to imagine.

"It's fine, Hermione," Harry said calmly, "I've already asked her and made sure there's nothing, well, wrong about it. It's entirely her choice. She knows what we're like about him, and she was terrified that we would shun her if we found out about it."

Hermione nodded. She could definitely understand why Sarah might feel that way. She felt more than a little shocked, but wasn't about to start disliking her because of it. Ron probably wouldn't start disliking her, either, if he were to find out; but he would probably pitch quite a fit upon hearing the news. Ginny's reaction would probably be a lot more subdued.

"You can't tell anyone, Hermione," Harry pleaded, "Anyone. If Sarah wants to tell, that's up to her, but I don't want her to start mistrusting me. If she feels like she can't trust us, she really doesn't have anyone else here to trust, aside from Professor Snape, of course."

Hermione sighed and nodded again.

"Alright," she agreed. It would probably be a bit difficult to keep this particular piece of news under her hat, but she would manage. Besides, she had kept much bigger secrets for Harry before.

"So what happened? What did you find?" she asked, getting back on track.

"Well, we got in just fine, just like last time," Harry continued. "I think I must have tipped one of them off that something was wrong when I had a little trouble getting into the records hall. I had Sarah standing watch at the door, and she had to set off a couple of Decoy Detonators and use some darkness powder to get us out of there."

"They said that two files were missing," Hermione said, motioning to the copy of the Prophet which Harry was still holding. "What did you take?"

Harry sighed.

"A whole lot of nothing, I'm afraid," he said. "I saw files with 'Garrend' on them and snatched them up right away, but by then, Sarah was already setting off the Decoy Detonators. I could hear the bang from the explosions. I panicked and only took what I saw first... but I didn't bother to check what was in the back of the drawer, or if the drawer underneath started with more Garrends."

"What's wrong with the files you took?" Hermione asked.

"They're rubbish," Harry explained. "They've got nothing to do with Sarah at all. They're just about a couple Muggles in Surrey who had to be Obliviated because they saw a Patronus or something. It was a complete bust."

Hermione nodded silently. Now she could plainly see why Sarah seemed so glum. She probably had been extremely excited at the prospect of finding out more about her strange circumstances, and coming away empty-handed must have been a huge letdown. She probably felt like she would never find out now. Hermione's eyes then narrowed in thought.

"What do you mean, in the back of the drawer?" she asked.

"It was strange," Harry said, "All of the other drawers I looked inside were jam-packed, no empty spaces anywhere. In this one, though, there was a big gap between the Garrend files that I found and the back of the drawer. It looked like there was something else back there, maybe another file. It looked like there was something sticking out of the folder, like it didn't fit, but I didn't see what it was, or what was on the file."

Hermione remained silent in thought, her eyes resting on the copy of the Prophet in Harry's hand.

"It was probably nothing," Harry sighed, trying to assuage himself of his feelings of guilt for not taking a look at what else was there.

"I think you should keep reading that, if you haven't read it all," Hermione said, her tone serious. Harry looked confused for a moment, but then continued reading the article which he had stopped reading halfway through.

Ministry officials report that only two extremely non-consequential files seem to have been stolen. As a precaution, however, the entire cabinet's worth of files from which the stolen files originated has been moved to a more secure area. "We don't want the thief coming back for more," says a Ministry spokesman. "As a precaution, we have moved the entire grouping of files to a much more secure location, and strengthened security for the entire department as a whole."

Although the Ministry will not specify where it has moved the files, the Prophet believes that they have been taken to a Ministry-owned High-Security vault at Gringotts. More information will be provided if it becomes available.

Harry let out a stifled gasp, eyes wide. He slowly looked back up at Hermione. Her expression was serious.

"There's more," he said, his voice sounding slightly strangled. He felt similar to how he had felt after successfully escaping Godric's Hollow but not managing to kill the snake, which would have made it all worthwhile. "There's more. There's got to be."

"I think that's a safe guess," Hermione admitted. "I don't know what, or why, but I think there's something strange going on here."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, pleading for elaboration. Hermione could always manage to spot the answer to any problem, or explain most any mystery.

"They didn't just keep those files on lock-down with the rest of them," Hermione explained, "They took them away. Completely. And they locked them up inside Gringotts, which is even more secure than the Ministry," she said. "Arguably speaking, of course," she added as an afterthought, quickly recalling that they had successfully broken into both of the reputedly 'secure' institutions.

"But what does it mean?" Harry pressed.

"I'm not sure, precisely," said Hermione. "I'm sure they've really tightened security for the records hall. There have to be all sorts of things in there that they don't want to get out. But they didn't move the whole lot of them to Gringotts, did they?"

"Just the one cabinet," Harry said, staring blankly. The image of that mysterious back-of-the-drawer file was swimming vividly in his mind.

"Exactly," said Hermione. "Just the one. They said that the files you stole were inconsequential, and by all rights, they sound it, so they're probably not lying about that bit. But it sure sounds like there's something else inside those files that they really don't want getting out, and they might have assumed that's what the thief-- you-- were really after, but you didn't get it. And now they've moved it to Gringotts to make sure that you don't."

Harry blinked. The vivid image was still swimming in his mind. He could have kicked himself. Why hadn't he bothered to look?

"Who knows what it could mean," Hermione continued, taking note of Harry's austere expression. "It could be something completely unrelated. There's a good chance of that."

"Or it could be what we were really after," Harry argued, eyes still unfocused. "And they're just trying to cover it up, whatever it is. Just like they covered up what happened with Sarah when she was a kid."

"We don't know that for sure, Harry," said Hermione.

"I know we don't," Harry admitted, "But what else does it sound like to you? What else could it be?" Harry shook the Prophet in front of her, giving it a sharp smack with his other hand. "This just proves it. There's something else in that drawer, and I'd be willing to bet that it has something to do with Sarah."

Hermione sighed. She wasn't going to argue with him, and she didn't even want to. Even though she knew that they lacked all the facts, and that it very well could be something completely unrelated, she couldn't help but think that he was right. Everything surrounding Sarah's past was extremely mysterious. Nothing could explain any of it adequately, and now it seemed as if the Ministry knew that someone was trying to find something out. Did the Ministry's reaction prove that someone really knew the truth?

She closed her eyes, trying to quiet her thoughts. Her mind, just like Harry's always tended to, was running away with her and jumping to conclusions which may or may not be correct.

"It is strange, I'll give you that," she said at last.

"I want to see what's in there," Harry said, his tone dripping of strong resolve.

"And now what," Hermione said, "You're going to break into Gringotts again? Hardly."

Harry grunted in frustration. He knew she was right. Breaking into the bank a second time would be exponentially more difficult and dangerous than getting into the Ministry had been.

"I think you're just going to have to give it up," said Hermione sadly.

Unfortunately, Harry's stubbornness would not allow him to do that. He simply had to see what else was in there. He had to see what the Ministry might be hiding. In his mind, he was absolutely convinced that it had something to do with Sarah. He didn't know when, and he certainly didn't know how, but he would somehow get his hands on it.

"Maybe," he said at last, folding up the copy of the Prophet and stowing it inside his robes. "I'm keeping this, I want to show her."

"Do you really think she's going to want to try and break into Gringotts?" Hermione asked. "You told her what happened to us when we did it. That was crazy, even then."

"Probably not," Harry admitted, "But I at least think she should know about this. Come on, Ginny and Ron must be wondering where we've gone off to."

With a quick glance around the corner, again be sure that they were unaccompanied, Harry and Hermione headed back to the portrait hole. If it were up to him, and he had a way and a means, Harry probably would have gone straight to Gringotts that very moment.

Unfortunately for him, they barely had a way and a means the first time they did it, and they had barely escaped. He knew that Sarah had been nervous enough about breaking rules to get into the Ministry. She probably wouldn't fancy the idea of breaking into Gringotts in the least. Still, if she was as compelled as Harry was by what he read in the Prophet, she might be convinced.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


By this point, Sarah was already back in her room doing the exact same thing she had been doing the rest of the day: lying on her back in bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Fortunately, no one had said anything about her glum behavior at supper, so she and Harry hadn't been pressured to try and explain anything. She felt for sure that she would barely move from the spot until tomorrow evening.

Having another lesson with Snape would give her some slight sense of normalcy, even though her lessons were far from being 'normal' at this point. It would give her something to look forward to. She recalled just how nervous, excited, and apprehensive she had been at times over the previous week, while fretting about her upcoming lessons. Perhaps if she felt that sensation again, she would be able to push this feeling of disappointment to the back of her mind.

A short while after Sarah had arrived back in her room, there came a soft knock on the door. She sat up in bed, and the knock issued again. For a brief moment, she allowed her imagination to wildly invent that the person knocking on the other side of the door was Snape, but she knew who it most likely was.

When she got out of bed and pulled open the door, she saw that she was correct. There stood Harry, looking serious, and holding what appeared to be a newspaper of some kind.

"Sarah," he said as soon as she opened the door, "Can I come in? There's something you need to see."

Wordlessly, Sarah stepped aside to allow Harry entrance. Once he was inside, she shut the door behind him and turned to where he was standing in the middle of the room.

"What is it?" Sarah asked, eyeing the article of paper that Harry was holding. She moved back to her bed and sat down on its edge.

"Here," said Harry, tossing the copy of The Evening Prophet into her lap. "See for yourself."

Sarah curiously examined the paper, and then unfolded it. It wasn't difficult to see what Harry wanted her to see; it was plastered all across the front page. For the next couple of minutes, Sarah sat in silence, reading the entire article. When she was finished, she slowly looked up at Harry. She didn't quite understand what Harry wanted her to see.

"So?" she asked. "We made the paper."

"That's not all," said Harry. He strode over to her, taking the paper from her hands and pointing to the important section of the article. "Read this bit again, very carefully, and really think about it."

Taking the paper back from him, she did as instructed. When she was finished, she looked back up at him. Her expression was stricken.

"What does it mean?" she asked.

"I think it means that we didn't get what we were after, and someone knows that we're after it," Harry said.

"What if it's something completely different? I mean, it could be anything, it could just be a coincidence," said Sarah softly, although she wished her words weren't true.

"I don't think it is," Harry whispered. It was time to tell her what he had kept quiet about yesterday. "Listen, Sarah... yesterday, in the drawer where I found those files, there was... something else."

"What do you mean, something else?" Sarah asked, leaning forward and setting down The Evening Prophet on her bed.

"When I was getting the files, there was a big empty space in the drawer they were in," Harry explained. "There was something at the very back of it, and there were no files in between the ones I took and the thing in back. Only I didn't get a look at what was in back. You were already setting off the Decoy Detonators and I panicked. I wanted to get us out of there safely."

Sarah silently stared at him, imploring him to continue explaining.

"Well," Harry started again, his tone cautious, "Alphabetically, Sarah Garrend would have been behind Geoffrey and Elizabeth, wouldn't it?"

"You mean," Sarah started quietly, "It... it could have been mine?"

Harry nodded once.

"I didn't get a look at it," said Harry. "It could have been."

"But why would they lock it away like that?" Sarah asked, her tone incredulous.

"That's just it, isn't it?" said Harry. "Why would they lock it away like that? Probably the same reason they covered up what happened to you as a kid."

"We don't know that they-," Sarah began, but Harry cut her off.

"No, we don't know for certain, but it certainly sounds that way, doesn't it?" Harry argued. "It could be something completely different, but I don't think it is. But there's no way of knowing for sure unless we-,"

"Unless we break into Gringotts?" Sarah sounded as if she liked the idea just about as much as Hermione had. "That's crazy, Harry."

"What else can we do?" Harry implored.

"We can sit here and accept the fact that we're never going to find out anything," Sarah huffed, folding her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. It definitely didn't seem she liked the sound of that plan. Harry smirked at her.

"Come on, we can't do that," said Harry, sitting down next to her on the edge of the bed. "Then we really won't ever find anything out. I know it sounds hopeless, but where there's a will, there's a way, right?"

"A way that involves breaking into the most secure building in Wizarding society, right?" said Sarah, her tone dry.

"I've done it once before, haven't I?" Harry said.

"And you were nearly dragon food if I remember the story correctly," Sarah sighed.

If whatever they were looking for was inside Gringotts, it felt as good as gone to her. Still, she could not ignore the tiny spark of hope that ignited inside her upon hearing that there might be something more. Despite herself, she might be willing to do almost anything to banish this deep feeling of disappointment. She desperately wanted to find out more.

"Look," Harry said, "Just like with the Ministry, I'm not going to force you to do anything. It's entirely up to you. But I want you to know, if you did want to, I'm right beside you in it."

"But why, Harry?" Sarah asked, turning to him. "Why are you willing to take such crazy risks like this? Haven't you had enough of that for one lifetime?"

"I think you deserve to know whatever is out there about you," Harry said truthfully. If only he had known the entire story behind his life's events upon turning eleven so many years ago. So many questions that had plagued him for years would have been answered.

"How are we going to do this, then?" Sarah asked. She had been inside the massive bank structure herself. The idea of getting inside to steal something was extremely daunting.

"I don't know," Harry said, standing up. "It's sure to take a lot more careful planning than getting inside the Ministry. It might take a while."

Sarah nodded silently. This was fine with her. The longer she had before they tried to do anything, the more magic she would learn, and the better prepared she would be. Perhaps by then she might even be almost on par with a normal witch or wizard of her age. There was no denying that she had a lot of catching up to do. If she had felt out-of-place and under-skilled breaking into the Ministry, she would certainly feel like a complete Muggle breaking into Gringotts.

"We'll talk more about it later," Harry said, moving for the door. "For now I just wanted you to see that."

Sarah placed The Evening Prophet on her night stand, on top of the Garrend files. Before Harry left, she thanked him sincerely.

She had been feeling hopeless, but now she felt cautiously optimistic. There might still indeed be something for them to find. Even if they had come out of the Ministry empty-handed, at least their little undertaking had made the papers and allowed them to discover that there might be something more. Despite being faced with breaking into Gringotts, Sarah felt encouraged.

Courageous enough, even, to leave her room in search of the person she had been thinking about all weekend. Having the courage to do this was nothing compared to the courage she would need to pull off breaking into Gringotts with Harry. What did she have to lose?


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Down in the dungeons, Snape was sitting alone in his private quarters, as he most often did. He sat in his study, in a large armchair facing the fireplace. The room was almost completely dark except for the warm light that the fire was giving off, and completely silent outside of the fire's merry crackling. In one hand, Snape held an open copy of The Practical Potioneer, and in the other was a half-empty glass of firewhiskey.

Even though he was looking into the open magazine, the words only danced before his eyes. He wasn't really reading them. Instead, his mind was consumed with thoughts of what had happened to him yesterday around this exact time. He couldn't stop thinking about it. After all, it wasn't as if an attractive, happily intoxicated girl stumbled into his quarters every night. Sarah had surprised him by showing up on his doorstep, and had also surprised him with her forwardness. If he had wanted to, Snape didn't have many doubts in his mind that she would have let him take her.

The entire situation still seemed so absurd to him. Here was an extremely attractive young witch, his student, no less, who was practically throwing herself at him. Snape had always prided himself on his extreme self-control, yet somehow he could not resist the girl. When they were close, he felt as if he became a lustful youth again, instead of a man in control of his actions. She was like a drug. He doubted that his reactions to her would be any different if had he ingested a lust potion.

As he recalled what had happened the previous night, he tugged on his shirt collar. A few beads of sweat that had nothing to do with the warm fire formed on his brow. He kicked off his boots and socks in an effort to cool down, but it had no effect. He could not get the girl out of his mind. The more and more he thought of her, the hotter the fire in front of him seemed to get. After fanning himself a few times with his magazine, he set it down on the floor beside him.

Something about last night still troubled him. When she had come knocking, she had been completely and utterly drunk. He could not help but wonder about her alcohol-impaired mental processes, and fear that perhaps she might not have come if she had been sober.

In spite of the confident air he always tried to give off, he was hugely insecure. Perhaps the girl had come to her senses by now and was off being snogged by some young, handsome student. Probably a Gryffindor, he thought darkly to himself. They seemed to have a nasty habit of stealing his women.

Tilting his head back, he downed the rest of his firewhiskey in one swig. Setting the glass down, he winced.

He quickly poured himself another glass. Alcohol, it seemed, was the cure-all that Potioneers had never been able to come up with. He soon felt pleasantly buzzed. In recent months, he found himself drinking more frequently than he had been, simply due to a lack of activity. There was no longer any Dark Lord to worry about, no vengeance to be seeking, no secret meetings to attend, and no life-or-death situations to concern himself with. His life, in a strange way, felt empty. It was not an emptiness that he lamented, however. The Dark Lord was gone forever. He had been willing to pay any price for this, and he had nearly payed the ultimate one.

Perhaps this was why he was so fixated on the girl. He simply had nothing else. Even as he thought this, he knew it to be a lie. The girl fascinated him. Her strange attraction to him was like an interesting experiment that he could freely test the boundaries of. Sitting here alone in front of the fire, with nothing but thoughts of Sarah swimming in his mind, he could no longer deny that he was indeed strongly attracted to the girl as well. How could I not be, he thought to himself. She was so young and attractive. It was probably every man of his age's dream to have a young, attractive girl like her wanting his affections.

Maybe this girl, who had almost quite literally fallen into his arms, was giving him something new to fill his life with.

He took another long swig of his firewhiskey. Setting the glass down again, he unfastened the first few buttons of his shirt. He was extremely hot now. He closed his eyes. He greatly desired to be once again drowning in the girl's sweet scent, and to feel her soft skin under his fingertips. He let his imagination run wild, and sighed in frustration when he soon felt his trousers growing tight. He would not be reduced to doing that. He might feel like a lustful young man again, but this did not mean that he would sink entirely to that level.

As he sat silently staring into the fire and trying to calm himself down, he thought he heard a faint knock on the door out in his office. He sighed. This was probably just what his mind wanted to hear, he thought. Last night at this time he had been sitting in this very spot, drinking the very same firewhiskey, and reading the very same periodical when Sarah had come knocking. In his semi-aroused state, it was probably just his imagination playing tricks on him.

A few moments later, the knock came again. It was louder this time. Snape sat up more straightly in his chair, his brow furrowed, and he glanced at the door which lead from his study into his office. The knock came again. It sounded too real. Someone had really been knocking this time. Rising from his chair, he headed out from his study into his office.

When he reached his office, the knock sounded again.

"Stop that infernal racket, I am coming," he yelled, irritated.

As he approached the door, he would not dare to let himself imagine that it could be Sarah. Clearing his throat and putting his harsh demeanor back on, he pulled open the door roughly. He didn't open it all the way, and was sure to hide most of his slightly-disheveled and slightly-aroused state behind it.

When he saw who was standing in the darkened doorway, his eyes widened. His heart leapt. It had been a quite while since he had felt that particular sensation.

"Miss Garrend," he stated, looking down on her and still hiding most of himself behind the half-opened door. Perhaps he had fallen asleep in front of the fire, and he was now dreaming that Sarah had come again. He was pleased to see that she was dressed only in her Muggle jeans and t-shirt; she was lacking her usual Gryffindor robes that frequently covered them. This clothing revealed her form nicely.

She looked back up at him and blushed a little despite her courage in coming here. At least she now was brave enough to hold his intense gaze without looking away. For a moment or two, at least.

"I thought you agreed to start calling me Sarah," she told him softly.

"Ah, so you remember last night, then," he said. He knew the girl had been pretty drunk, but he hadn't been sure if she was intoxicated to the point of not having a memory of the events that had taken place. Apparently, she remembered.

"Of course I do," said Sarah. She then blushed a little more and looked away from him.

She did not know the reason for which Snape was partially concealing himself at the moment, and she felt discouraged that he hadn't opened the door all the way. Perhaps he was angry with her for what she had done, or tried to do, last night.

Snape tilted his head slightly at the girl. She suddenly looked hurt. What had he done? When it came to dealing with other people's emotions, he definitely wasn't very good. He suddenly felt helpless. His facial expression softened in concern, but he said nothing.

Sarah cleared her throat softly.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry," Sarah whispered. She now felt guilty for throwing herself at him while drunk. Maybe he thought she was only there because of being intoxicated, and he no longer trusted her. Whatever the reason, she was sorry.

Snape's eyes widened. Ah, he thought to himself. She must be frightened that I am upset at her for last night. He smirked, but Sarah didn't see.

She couldn't be more wrong. He would have to show her.

"Sorry for what?" Snape asked, swinging the door open the rest of the way.

Sarah looked up when she heard the door's hinges creaking, and now saw that she could see all of him. She swallowed hard when she saw his state in greater detail. He was wearing black trousers and a loose collared white shirt just as he had been last night, but he was barefoot. The first few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a few inches of his smooth, lean chest. She could not help herself when her eyes briefly flickered downward at his trousers, where she could see the definite beginnings of a bulge. It was then that she noticed that his brow, and the small portion of his chest that was exposed, seemed to have a fine sheen of sweat.

"For driving me mad?" he purred at her, stepping closer.

Sarah's pulse instantly quickened, and she stammered for words. It was difficult to concentrate with this obviously aroused, attractive man bearing down on her.

"I just thought, maybe, that you were, I mean, that you might be-- about last night, I--," she stuttered.

To silence her, Snape brought his hands to her hips and pulled her close, quickly leaning down to capture her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Tonight, she did not taste of firewhiskey. She was sober. He inhaled through his nostrils as he kissed her, taking in the sweet scent that he had been longing for. When he broke the kiss, she was looking up into his eyes. He gave her a little smirk.

"There is nothing to be sorry for," he told her, pulling her inside the door and shutting it behind them.

He quickly pushed her back up against the closed door, pressing his body into hers. Her breath was coming in shaky gasps, and he could see the pulse racing in her throat. As he leaned forward and began kissing and licking the spot where he could see her heart frantically pumping, she gave a soft sigh. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

Inside his mind, he was toying with the idea of taking her somewhere a little more comfortable. She was sober, without a doubt. She had come here of her own accord, without any impairments in her judgment. She obviously wanted him. She had become immediately flustered and lost for words when she saw his burgeoning arousal. Now they were once again getting passionate. If that wasn't consent, he didn't know what was.

"Come," he said, straightening up and turning away from her. He quickly strode away and disappeared through the other door in the room. Sarah hurried after him.

Entering his study, she could barely see. The room was completely dark except for the large fire going in the fireplace. She took several steps inside.

By the dim light of the fire, she could see a large, comfortable-looking chair resting in front of it, as well as what looked like a large sofa not far away, also facing the fire. To either side of the fireplace appeared to be large bookcases filled with countless volumes. In another part of the room there was a desk; smaller, and more ornate and personal-looking than the large desk out in his office. Near this desk stood a large glass-windowed cabinet, the light of the fire glinting off the many bottles held inside.

Even in the near total-darkness, Sarah could tell that the room was done mostly in dark coloring and deep, rich woodwork. This did not surprise her at all. The room looked extremely comfortable and cozy. The fire must have been going strong for quite a while now, as the room was very warm.

Out of the few things Sarah could see, she could not see where Snape had gone. She heard the door close softly behind her, and swallowed hard when Snape took a hold of her hips from behind, pulling her close to him. She gasped when she felt his arousal pressing into the small of her back. She knew it had felt huge before, but it felt even larger now. When she did not protest, he gripped her hips even tighter and began softly grinding against her. As he did this, she trembled. He lowered his mouth near her neck again, and she could both feel and hear his intense breathing. After giving her neck a few more kisses, he used her hips to turn her around to face him.

"Are you quite sure you know what you are getting into now? In the absence of alcohol or any other judgment-impairing substance?" he asked seriously.

Looking up at him, Sarah could barely make out his features in the dim light. She thought she could see the dancing flames reflected in his deep, black eyes.

"Yes," she whispered back. She did know what she was getting into, but she was quite nervous about it.

"Very well," he said, taking her arm and leading her around to the other side of the sofa. He gently forced her down onto it.

"If at any time you wish me to stop," he said, before lowering himself down to be on top of her, "I implore you, tell me to stop."

He knew that his control was already far gone. He could not resist the young witch, but if she were to ask him to stop, he would certainly stop. He was not the kind of man who would force anything, especially with someone so young, someone who he feared was still virginal. If things went far enough, he would soon find out if this were true.

As soon as she nodded her understanding, he gently pushed her back onto the couch, bringing himself to rest on top of her. She sighed softly when she felt his strong body pressing into hers. Most of their passion so far had taken place standing up, and both of them found it extremely welcome to be in this position once again. As soon as he was atop her, he captured her lips again and kissed her deeply. She could now feel the constant pressure of his arousal pressing into her. She could feel his heat. He felt hotter than the roaring fire burning only a couple feet away. By some reflex, she began parting her legs for him, and he soon felt himself resting in between them.

Experimentally, he began grinding against her again. He was encouraged when she did not tense or shy away; instead, she moaned softly and bit down on his bottom lip as he kissed her. She surprised him by wrapping her legs around his waist very quickly. This drew soft groans from him. The gentle friction it caused against his organ felt extremely good. Sarah gasped a little; it felt good against her, too.

Her hands went for his buttons, and she soon had his shirt opened. When she tried to push it off of him, he sat up and removed it himself, tossing it onto the nearby chair. Turnabout was fair play, and before he brought himself back down on top of her, he raised her arms up over her head and lifted her shirt off of her as well. He tossed it onto the chair along with his. When he captured her lips again, both of them gave a soft moan. Feeling skin-to-skin contact like this for the first time between them was incredible. They were quickly caressing one another. Snape's hands went to her breasts, which he could feel through the thin fabric of her bra, and Sarah's fingers quickly slipped themselves underneath his belt and inside his waistband again.

One of Snape's hands immediately went to Sarah's, pushing them away from his belt and preventing her from getting his trousers open just yet. In the same movement, he pinned both of her hands above her head by the wrists. It was evident that he liked being in control, and she did not protest. Submitting to him, her breathing intensified when he started pulling down her bra straps. As he did, he looked into her eyes again, searching for any sign of hesitancy. Instead, he saw that her eyes were just as dark with lust as his own. Gently slipping a hand behind her back, he unclasped her bra and exposed her breasts to his ravenous gaze. Her bra was quickly resting on the chair with their other shed articles of clothing.

He used this as an excuse to begin moving downward. He was soon using his lips and skillful tongue to lavish attention on her breasts. Her nipples became perfectly hard under his ministrations, and she was soon covered in the same fine sheen of sweat that adorned him as well. He kissed his way downward over the flat plane of her stomach, his smooth, lank hair brushing over her skin and causing her to tingle. When he reached the waistband of her jeans, he brought himself back up upon her, but she could still feel his right hand working to undo them.

When her jeans were open, Snape stood, holding out his hand to the half-naked girl lying on the sofa. Taking his hand, she was made to stand as well, and was wordlessly led deeper into his private chambers. With such a lack of light, Sarah could barely tell where she was. Snape pushed open another door and led her into an adjoining room.

Stepping inside, she could barely see by the light of another fireplace, but this one was burning much more lowly than the fire back out in the study. All she could make out in the darkness was a huge four-poster bed. When the door was closed behind her, she felt Snape's hands on her bare shoulders, moving her toward it. When she reached it, she was turned about to face him and gently forced backward toward the bed. When the backs of her knees hit it, she had no choice but to collapse backward onto it. As soon as she had, Snape's hands were on the waistband of her jeans again, pulling them off of her. Her plain-yet-simply-sexy black panties were bared to him, and he threw himself down on her mostly-naked form.

The simple sensation of being in his bed was enough to make Sarah swoon. It was probably the softest bed she had ever been on, and the entire bedroom smelled very strongly of his scent. Even with her heightened arousal, she was breathing in slowly and deeply. It was utterly intoxicating. This, she thought, was better than firewhiskey.

Snape was atop her once again, but this time he rolled of slightly. He was now lying on his left side, facing the girl. Still wearing his trousers, he pressed his concealed heat into her thigh. She exhaled softly, and then felt a large, warm hand begin roaming lightly over her lower stomach. When he began teasing the edge of her panties, she tensed slightly, but he was able to distract her from whatever brief anxiety she might have felt by capturing her lips in another searing kiss. She barely noticed as his hand snaked its way inside her panties. Before she knew it, she gave a soft moan when she felt his long, calloused fingers exploring her folds.

Snape could barely believe what was happening. He could hardly believe that such an attractive young witch was allowing him to do this to her. He was still having an even more difficult time accepting the reality that this young, attractive witch was attracted to him as well. With his hand caressing her most intimate of places, he pressed himself even harder against her, and deepened their kiss.

His middle finger was soon pressing down on her center of pleasure, and he was rewarded with a louder, deeper moan from her. When he slid his finger lower, his eyes widened and he was pleased to find that her opening was extremely slick with her wetness. As impossible as it may have seemed for him at the time, he felt himself grow even harder at the knowledge that he was the source of it.

When his finger teased her entrance, Sarah's hips bucked involuntarily, and she bit down hard on Snape's lower lip as they kissed. Very slowly, he pressed his finger into her. It slowly slid into her tight heat. Before he could get it all the way in, he met her barrier. His assumption had been correct; she was a virgin. For the moment, anyway. Resolving that he could still do more while keeping her virtue relatively intact, he slid a second finger into her, curling them upwards and stimulating her from within. By the time he added a third finger, she was writhing and moaning for him in sheer ecstasy. She was extremely tight.

Sarah did have some limited experience with the opposite sex. What teenager hadn't? She had grown up in America, after all. She had never before been touched like this, however. She was now completely unaware of anything but this man and the pleasure that he was giving her. His fingers brought her new sensations which she had never felt before. When he withdrew them from her, she groaned in protest. He raised himself up over her again, giving her a serious look.

She looked back up at him, her eyes pleading.

"More," she whispered, arching up into him and bringing his pelvis into contact with her own. He could not resist gasping in pleasure as he felt the friction; he was now painfully hard.

"You are a virgin," he said matter-of-factly. "Are you sure you wish to surrender your virtue to me? If you wish to stop, I will stop."

Sarah looked up at him silently. She had never been so intensely attracted to anyone in her life. She had developed a strong attraction to him as quickly as she might have dived into the deep end of a pool.

This man was teaching her new things, even outside the realm of magic and spells. He was currently teaching her a different kind of magic, one in which she was almost equally uneducated. If she allowed him to, he would educate her completely. Lying under him, she knew that she wanted it. She knew that he would stop if she told him to, but she doubted that she would be able to stop now, even if she wanted to. She was too far gone, and too far absorbed in her desire for him.

"Yes," she whispered. "I want it."

She saw as Snape nodded once, but then he rolled off of her and got out of the bed. Sarah sat up, frightened that she had done something wrong. She watched as Snape pushed open another door. Leaning to the side, she could barely see the interior of this room, but she recognized it right away. It was his bathroom, the same one he had dragged her into on the night of her very first lesson in order to rinse the potion out of her eyes. It was in there that she had discovered her mysterious change in eye color.

She could not see him, but she heard the clinking of bottles coming from inside the bathroom. Only moments later, Snape emerged, holding a small flask. As he approached the bed, he uncorked it and held it out to her. Standing before her, she could now plainly see just how tented his trousers were. She took a deep, shaky breath.

"Take it," he instructed her. When she took it from him, she only looked at him with uncertainty. "Drink it," he told her.

Sarah raised the bottle to her lips and tilted her head back. She drained the contents of the flask in a single gulp. She winced as it hit her throat; it tasted harshly. She shut her eyes tight, coughing. With her eyes closed, she did not see as Snape quickly unfastened his belt and trousers, stepping out of them. When she opened them again, he was standing before her in only boxers, which contained an enormous bulge.

She had been just about to ask what exactly it was that she just drank, but she could probably no longer remember her own name.

He saw the expression painted across her face, but could not make it what it was.

"Contraceptive potion," he explained. "Not very pleasant, I know. But more effective than Muggle contraceptives."

After taking the bottle from her and set it down on a small cabinet next to his bed, he turned back to face her. He tilted his head at her and smirked to himself when he saw that her eyes were glued to his nether regions. Last night, she had seemed eager to get her hands down there. Now, however, she looked like a hippogriff in the headlights. Deciding that now was as good a time as ever, he slipped his boxers down and stepped out of them. Sarah gave a small gasp when she saw his manhood.

He was huge.

Last night's hypothesis about where that dark trail of hair below his navel led had been correct. It led to an even darker, slightly thicker patch of hair just above his organ. It hung impressively long and thick. No doubt she had only been with boys before. Now she was with a fully grown man. He grinned wickedly at her when he heard her gasp, and brought his right hand to grip his engorged shaft and stroke downward, exposing his glans. He too was slick with his own wetness.

He climbed back on top of her and pushed her back down into the plush mattress.

"Are you still sure, Sarah?" he purred down at her.

Sarah swallowed hard. She did want it, but she had never seen anything so... big. It had felt impressive before when he would press it against her, but she had no way of knowing just how sizeable it would be. She knew losing her virginity had to happen sooner or later; it might as well be now, with this man, to whom she had such a fiercely intense attraction.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice faint.

With her consent, Snape gently slid her panties down her legs and tossed them aside. Climbing on top of her again, he used his knees to push her legs apart and lower himself down between them. Keeping himself raised up with his left hand on the mattress, he again wrapped his right hand around his shaft. Watching for the girl's reactions, he slowly brought the head of his manhood into contact with her folds. He slid it up and down firmly, combining and spreading both of their wetness.

Sarah moaned deeply and arched up into him. It felt so hard and so hot. After making sure he was sufficiently lubricated, he leaned back down over her, supporting himself on his elbow. Still using his hand, he positioned himself at her opening, only barely pressing into her.

"I warn you," he whispered to her, "This will certainly hurt."

After the girl took a deep breath in preparation, he began pushing into her. It wasn't long before she was gasping at the feel of the enormous intrusion. Inch by inch, he eased into her. His own breathing became unsteady as he felt her tight, hot walls gripping him. It was difficult to resist the urge to simply plow into her. He patiently pushed into her, and she began moaning at the sensation of being stretched so wonderfully.

This all stopped, however, when he met her barrier. He felt as she tensed, and instead of a serene expression of pleasure across her face, she was wincing. Leaning forward a little more, he distracted her with his lips, capturing hers with his own. When she was sufficiently distracted, he made the final push.

For one instant, Sarah experienced a moment of almost blinding pain. As she kissed him, she cried out into his mouth, but as soon as he was completely inside her, he did not move. The stabbing pain quickly dissipated to a strong ache. Breaking the kiss, Snape looked down into her eyes and began gently caressing the side of her face. He could see the pain there; even though it had been a necessary pain, somewhere inside he felt a great sinking feeling of regret for being the cause of it.

"I am sorry," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her neck soothingly.

Sarah responded by taking a deep, shaky breath and wrapping her legs around his waist experimentally. Both of them gasped sharply as he slid slightly deeper than before. For the next few minutes, there was no movement whatsoever. As Sarah adjusted to his size, her expression of pain quickly melted away as she became more aware of the wonderful sensation of being filled by him.

"More," she whispered, suddenly addicted to this fantastic new sensation.

Gently, he began rocking his hips into her. With even the slightest motion, both of them would moan in pleasure. Snape was quite sure that he had never felt anything so good in his life. She was so incredibly tight and hot. He feared that if he moved any faster, he would end it too soon. It had been far too long since he had known the pleasures of a woman. Sarah, on the other hand, was completely new to this, and every new sensation was wonderfully intense.

Carried away in their waves of pleasure, they quickly established a rhythm together. As he pushed forward into her, she would arch up into him. They continued on like this, building up a slow, intense heat. He kissed her deeply as he pushed into her again and again, completely unaware of anything but their mounting pleasure. She wrapped her arms around his neck tenderly and began caressing his neck and back.

"Severus...," she whispered softly into his ear, her heated breath tickling his senses and making him tingle.

Her name sounded just as tantalizing rolling off of her tongue as it had last night. Upon hearing it, he could not resist pushing into her harder, exhaling loudly in pleasure. This caused her to arch up into him even more, moaning deeply. As she did, she began feeling herself tense. Her toes curled. Some wonderful new sensation was building itself up in the pit of her stomach, a tight little coil of pleasure, and she wanted more of it. At that instant, all she wanted was for him to move faster and harder.

"More," she pleaded again, her voice a faint moan of pleasure.

Obliging her, Snape groaned and arched himself into her harder, pushing into her faster than before. Painfully hard and aroused out of his mind, he knew he probably wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. Reaching down between them as he continued making love to her, his fingers once again found the center of her pleasure, the small bundle of nerves which would send her sensations skyrocketing.

"Severus!" she gasped, feeling his touch there once again. He knew he had done something right when she moaned even louder than before, and he felt her fingernails digging sharply into his back.

The combined stimuli was too much for her. She tensed even harder, her breath coming in quick gasps and then leaving her in moans of sheer pleasure. Her world swam around her as she climaxed. She had never felt such pleasure from anything.

Snape groaned deeply in pleasure as she tightened around him even more than he thought possible. The firm, rapid contractions of her inner muscles were his undoing. Leaning forward to capture her lips again, he thrust into her a few final times. He trembled over her and then stilled, straining into her as hard as he could, pulsing his hot seed deep within her. It felt like an eternity before he was finished, his pulsing eventually fading to a dull throb. He exhaled loudly and relaxed atop her.

Coming back down to Earth, Sarah was now aware that both of them were covered in sweat and panting heavily. She felt dizzy, light-headed, and extremely tired. The man above her was gazing down at her, his black eyes deep, his expression uncharacteristically soft and tender. She felt safe. She felt warm. She felt comfortable. She felt incredibly satisfied.

She wasn't aware of much else before sleep overtook her.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Somewhere in a seedy pub in Knockturn Alley, two men were sitting across from one another at a darkened table in the corner. Both of them were wearing hooded cloaks, as was usually the custom of the establishment and of Knockturn Alley in general. They both knew who the other one was, but they could barely make out one another's features in the concealing shadows.

On the table, lying flat between them, was a copy of The Evening Prophet.

"You see," said one of the men, his voice gruff, "I told you it was only a matter of time. They're onto it already."

The other man slid the newspaper closer to himself, examining the article again.

"But they didn't even manage to get what they wanted, did they? It wouldn't be in the papers, otherwise. And now they've gone and sealed it up inside Gringotts. The Ministry must know what it is, too," said the other man.

"'Course they do," said the first man. "Well, only a few of them would. The Unspeakables. But they don't know as much as us."

"How do you expect them to find it now, if it's inside Gringotts? We're ruined," said the second man.

The first man snorted.

"It's Potter, isn't it?" the first man said, sounding impatient, and slapping his hand across the table onto the newspaper for emphasis.

"So she's definitely friends with Potter now, then?" the second man asked, sounding uneasy.

"Has to be. Isn't that what we wanted to happen? How else could she have pulled this stunt off alone?" replied the first man. "I know his style. He can't leave anything like that alone. Exactly what he did last time, to get in there." His finger was now jabbing the front page.

"I think that's what you wanted," The second man gave the first man a harsh glare from underneath his hood. Having the girl befriending Potter definitely wasn't part of his ideal version of plan. He could cause far too much trouble.

"Don't be that way," the first man argued, "Look, it could end up being even better for us in the end. Just imagine if she ends up taking out Potter, too. Besides, how else could she do all these things like getting into the Ministry or Gringotts without his help? There has to be more finesse to this plan than just turning her loose like some bloody rabid animal. She needs Potter. We need Potter."

"He's got nothing to do with it," the second man spat. "What concern is he to me?"

The first man gave a loud, arrogant laugh.

"Do you have any idea how much that would help your cause, you idiot?" he laughed, "Just imagine what that headline could read. We would be killing two birds with one stone as far as I'm concerned."

The second man's rage cooled slightly at this, and he settled back in his chair, waiting for his companion to say more. It was true that Potter's involvement now seemed absolutely necessary. She didn't have a chance of getting what she wanted without him now. Maybe his companion was right, and it would be better for the overall plan in the end. Much better, perhaps.

"At any rate, this should give you a springboard," the first man continued, his finger now jabbing the headline on the surface of the newspaper. "It might be a long while now, but when the next headline comes with something about a break-in at Gringotts, you'll know where they're headed next, and you had better be there if you want this all to keep working."

The second man nodded silently.

The plan seemed to be moving along. Patience would be a virtue in the time ahead.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


A/N: There you have chapter 15! I hope you enjoyed it! That was my first attempt/experience at writing a sex scene. I hope you all approve of it. I am dying to know what you think! Please leave a review for me, if you would be so kind :) More to come soon! Thanks for reading!