This do in Remembrance of me

The eyes were watching him again, he was aware that her gaze was tracking his form as he walked through the classroom. Trying not to notice, he continued his lecture without making direct contact with the little serpent dressed in Ravenclaw robes. Rarely did she speak in his presence, her voice wasn’t necessary to know that she was there. He could feel it the moment she entered any room, he could sense the unmistakable pull of simple gravity. Watching her turn from child to woman had been enough to convince him that she could be dangerous for him, but felt powerless against it. Occasionally he would give in to his more carnal needs and stand behind her as she stirred her potion, ever watching the slightest movement of her wrist, he found even that small part of her body to be more enticement that he could withstand. He told himself this was wrong, that she was a child and he was nothing more than a dirty old man for feeling the way he did, but even this was never enough to stop him from finding a reason to stand next to her and linger for just a moment longer than was respectable.

He did not make a habit of noticing the children in his care as anything other than wards to be seen after and making sure they didn’t permanently damage themselves or his classroom. But this one, she was different. He hated to admit it even to himself, she was special. There was something so basic in her make up that made it impossible for him to notice anything other than her, and this worried him. How long would he be able to control this burn he felt deep inside and not reach his hand towards her for the slightest touch of her ivory skin. Shaking his head, trying to clear his mind, he caught her gaze and was unable to produce the sneer, which had become his trademark. Dear Gods, he had begged and pleaded for deliverance, for an angel to find him and take him away from the madness of the existence he called life. But never, never in his life did he think it would come in the form of a beguiling seventeen year old little witch with smoldering bed room eyes that murmured his name without saying a word. He would never last, he could face the Dark Lord himself and lie to save his own skin, but her, she was beyond his realm of control.

Pinching the bridge of his nose he found his way back to his desk and seated himself where he could watch her and not be noticed by the others in the room. This had to stop he swore to himself after several minutes of his eyes never leaving her shape, but he knew there was only one antidote for this poison that consumed him so violently. He tore a small piece of parchment and his quill scribbled almost illegibly across the space of the blank sheet. Quietly he moved through the room and stopped when he was next to her, placing his hand flat against the table only inches from her own. Her head lifted, and again he was forced to fall into the depths of her eyes and found it almost unbearable to look away. He slid his hand off the table and her eyes were drawn to the parchment that remained. Turning quickly, he returned to his desk and waited for the madness that he was sure would come.

She opened the parchment when she was sure no one was watching, and read the words silently without moving her lips. Folding the paper, she placed it inside her robes, this was something that no one else ever need see. Thankful she had finished her potion, as her mind had never been further away from the task at hand as it was at this moment. She was quite certain this was the beginning, this was the moment she had waited for, the moment she had thought about for as long as should could remember being alive.

The first time she saw him, as a scared little first year she was unable to pull her gaze away from him as he sat looming over them at the Professor’s table in the great hall. She had felt like running, she knew at that precise moment her destiny would be intertwined with his and she would be powerless to prevent it otherwise, and this realization terrified her. As she grew from child to woman her hunger for the man had not lessened but only intensified, and her thoughts always turned to him.

She had tried to find comfort in the boys at the school who had sought her favor but always somewhere inside of her would scream that she already belonged to him and this would be seen as an act of betrayal. Eventually she had ceased her frivolous pursuits, and resigned herself to wait for however long it took. Over the years the loneliness had become a social prison but she had convinced herself she would be rewarded with his attention. She would prove to him that only she could satisfy him and he would eventually see that she had paid her penance and deserved his recognition. This moment was finally upon her, and now she felt tainted. Somewhere in the distance she could hear the chimes signaling that class had ended and the other students in the room quickly shot from the hell they referred to as “potions”. Lingering, she gathered her things and sat, unsure of what to do. He would have to come to her, of that much she was sure. Any movement on her part would be seen as presumption, and she would not risk mangling this chance that had finally presented its self to her.

He waited for the classroom to empty, and the only person that remained behind was her. His angel of deliverance, his constant torment, his undoing he was quite certain. Again he left his desk and trying to appear more casual than he felt, he ended up back at her side trying to find the words somewhere inside of him to say.

“Ms. Morgan, are you aware..” he stated flatly whispering the words.

“Sir, I am very aware of many things.” She cut him off before he could continue.

His lips pursed together, unsure of what to say. He also was aware of to many things that were unspoken between them, and now he had confirmation that she in fact knew of them as well.

His instincts were screaming at him to reach across the space between them and pull her inside his arms and kiss her with relished abandon, but his better sense told him to be more patient. He didn’t want to scare her away when it was finally apparent that he may actually stand a chance of finding some small piece of happiness in this world.

“Ms. Morgan,” He started slowly choosing his words carefully, “It would seem apparent that I…” He stumbled on his own words, so he rephrased, “that you..”

However she did not let him speak, she couldn’t be denied for a moment longer, she reached towards him and ran her hand over the surprising softness of his face. His eyes closed at the feel of her skin next to his own and he no longer felt the need to say another word.

She could sense him relax under her touch, his usually stiff resolve melted away as she stroked his cheek. His hand lifted and covered hers with his own. They stood for several seconds, her hand resting comfortably underneath his own before she was sure of her next move. Slowly, she leaned into him and placed her lips over his.

Her lips lingered above his and for a brief moment the world its self stopped turning. He could not imagine a more power full emotion than what he was feeling at that exact second. It was beauty in its purist form of art and we wanted to only improve the portrait.

His hands wove themselves through the hair that fell down the back of her neck and pulled her into his arms, pressing his mouth against hers in a savage display of movement. Severus was fighting for dominance of the kiss when he realized she was not struggling against him, but allowing him to have her anyway that he desired. His hands fell to her sides and he crushed her with his own strength against his needy body.

Her mind was spinning out of control, he wanted her, all this time he had felt this pull between them as well. Just the confirmation of his need for her consumed her and she was pulling at his robes, trying to gain the closeness she had been so long deprived of.

His hands found themselves back to her face and he cradled her between them, resting his forehead against her own.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, this is madness for both of us.” He shook his head, pressing further into her mind, his hands still holding her painfully still, afraid of her possible flight.

“I don’t care, madness or not, I can’t pretend what I feel is wrong. That’s it tainted and dirty,” her voice was breathy with need, “I need this, I need you. Please don’t dismiss me and tell me this is wrong.”

“No,I won’t. I haven’t the strength to do it.” He had leaned back and was staring into her eyes, “If I have to, I will travel the road to hell with you. I am as bound to this as apparently you are.” His mouth found her, preventing her from speaking. He traced the shape of her lips with his tongue, pleading she allow him to enter the warmth of her mouth and she obliged.

He played upon the softness of her skin with his hands, and fell further deep inside her mouth with his own tongue. He could hear the chimes outside in the hallway and voices were closing in around the stillness they had found in each other.

“You need to leave,” his lips now lingering above hers, not wanting to loose the sensation of connection. “They’ll be through the door any minute.”

“I know,” her chest was heaving, grasping for air as she answered him. “When will I see you again?” She wasn’t sure she could pull herself away from him.

“Tonight, after curfew, come back here.” He was peppering kisses over her eyelids and she dropped her face to bury it deep into his chest. “I’ll wait for you, now go.”

He released the hold he had on her and turned as she jerked her books from the table and quickly fled from the room. My god what have I done? His hand found the bridge of his nose and he squinted at the amount of force that he had applied. Whatever it was, it was to late to stop now. He would have to play this out, no matter how badly it was destined to end.