One wish alone have I

Chapter 21 (part 2)
A new beginning

“Antanasia?”

“It is, mmmmh, not even eleven in the morning, Severus! Are you not sleeping?”

“Antanasia… tell me, honestly. If I had indeed chosen to use a Time-Turner and stayed at your side that afternoon… would you… have… you know,” he hesitated, his breath brushing against the back of my neck like gentle waves on a shore. “Would you have consented to have a child with me?”

“Yes. Of course, I would have consented…” I whispered, pressing his arm against my chest even tighter. “It would have even been a pleasure and an honour.”

“Okay. Thank you for telling me that,” he simply replied, cuddling closer to me.

~*~

“Severus?”

“Yes… what is it? It is, mmmmh, barely a quarter past noon, Antanasia. Are you not sleeping?”

“Severus… why did you ask me that question?” I whispered, looking into his sleepy eyes through the curtain of his black hair.

“Oh… I still kept thinking over and over about what things would have been if… and your answer helped me get a clearer picture.”

“Okay. Thank you for telling me that,” I replied, letting my lips wander tenderly over his.

~*~

“Severus?” said a male voice.

“Yes! What is it?” Severus said hoarsely.

“I have been told you had company last night! You know, there is some kind of… how could I put it… idyllic contempt and masculine pride in your voice that tells me she was quite something! Do you mind sharing her with me just a little bit? I need to raise my spirits, too!”

One of Severus’ boots flew across the tent, zoomed through its opening and hit something with a muffled sound.

“Ow! Take it easy, mate! No need to be that possessive; I am just asking for a lease, here, nothing permanent! Or is it because I am interrupting yet another of Professor Snape’s private lessons?”

Taking Severus’ wand from his hand, I gave it a wave and made one of my own boots follow his. We both chuckled when we heard the same muffled sound and surprised cry again.

“What kind of soldier are you, Ivantie?” I taunted, leaning my cheek lazily against Severus’ chest. “How many hits does it take to make you move aside?”

“I think two stinky boots will be enough to teach me the lesson, thank you!” he joyfully replied, throwing the boots in question back into the tent. “I will come back later, then.”

“Wait!” intervened Severus. “Did you really need to talk to me or did you only come to play the fool?”

“I just came to check on you,” he replied, still talking through the closed panels. “It is well past ten and I was starting to wonder if you guys were still alive! I thought you would like to know that we are about to have dinner outside. You are more than welcome to join us.”

“Thank you, we will be there shortly,” Severus answered. “Though… you can begin without us; we would hate to keep you waiting,” he added, caressing the small of my back with his hot hand in answer to the sparkle he saw in my eyes.

“No problem, I will see you in a bit!” Ivantie said, with a meaningful cheerfulness. “Unless you change your mind and make a little room for me! I am very cuddly, you know, and I am sure I could be useful somehow… give a hand, or just… Ow!… Ow! Ok, ok… I will meet you there!”

We joined them an hour or so later… or was it two? Who cares? We certainly did not.

~*~

The small delegation from the Zaharia castle stayed only two more nights, long enough to organise a brief meeting between Pietr, Andrusha and Ivantie in order to make sure that the militia’s attacks would stop. Ivantie and Andrusha came back quite relaxed and satisfied from that meeting; they informed us that Pietr and the four other Russian clan leaders were definitely better disposed for negotiations. They agreed to extend the truce to the end of August, which was, of course, greeted by everybody with exclamations of relief and joy. Severus and I were particularly happy about that news; it allowed us to expect a quiet and undisturbed stay at Zaharia, away from the worries of the two wars.

Therefore, we Apparated back to the castle with lighter hearts. Valerica and the others were waiting for us with great anticipation, and I remember that night as a festive and relaxed one for all of us. It was definitely good to be among my family with the man I loved without restraint, and the impact that our reconciliation had on the general atmosphere at dinners and during casual conversations was palpable… and appreciated, I think.

One afternoon, shortly after we came back from the Ukraine, Severus made a very unexpected proposition. He greeted me with tender caresses when I woke up and took a long bath with me, a thing he usually never did. He was rubbing my back, making small circles with a soapy sea sponge, when he told me what was on his mind.

“I have been thinking about something for quite a few nights, Tasia,” he began.

“Tell me…” I purred, entranced by the care he put in what he was doing.

“I was thinking about what we did together, in the lime-tree clearing, when you learned about Catalina’s passing…. I thought it was a very nice and personal gesture to pay our last respects to her. And I have been thinking… would you like to do the same thing again with me, for our son?”

The movements of the sponge had stopped; in fact, I could barely feel its light pressure on my skin. I turned back and leaned against him on my stomach, nudging my nose in the reassuring warmth of his neck as he rinsed my back with handfuls of water.

“It is very thoughtful of you to propose such a thing,” I murmured, running my fingertips in the soft and thin hair on his chest. “Really, I am touched…”

“I felt it might help you… us… get a sense of closure about his death.”

“You are right. We should definitely do it if you are ready to share that with me,” I gravely said. “When would you prefer us to…”

“Whenever you want.”

“Tomorrow night, then?”

“Perfect. Do you have a place in mind?”

“Many, but I do not want to decide everything. I derive a lot of soothing and energy from nature in general, so I would prefer it to take place outside, but you can choose the specific setting.”

“Well… what would you think of one of the Black Sea’s shores?” he suggested, combing my wet hair delicately with his fingers. “I like the sea… I always find it to have some kind of a dormant but mighty power that has always fascinated me.”

We did not add anything and simply hugged each other in the slowly cooling water. Our friends found our eyes to have a graver expression than usual when we joined them for the meal, but other than that, we both spent an agreeable night walking the Carpathians and playing chess in the garden. When we snuggled up against each other on his bed in the morning, however, I startled at a thought just as I was dozing off.

“Severus!” I said. “There is an important detail we have not thought of about tomorrow’s ceremony.”

“The flower wreath?” he asked. “I thought we might pick flowers in the garden; I saw a few of them tonight that would be perfect.”

“Great, but what I thought of is even more crucial… have you realised that our son has no name?”

I had not realised it before that night indeed. There were no human ceremonies for babies who died that young; cainites did not do any formal funeral in those circumstances either. Therefore, the thought had never crossed my mind; that baby had ceased to be a part of my future, and the two lovely words we used to name him sounded wonderfully sweet to me already. Our son...

“Have you thought of a name?” he asked.

“No… I never thought I would have to. Do you have a name in mind?”

“Well… Severus is obviously out of the question!” he affirmed. “And I have never been a fan of naming children after their direct parents.”

“But I love Severus…” I softly said.

“Please say you are just kidding me…” he groaned.

“Not at all!” I affirmed, rising myself on one elbow. “Severus is associated with lots of sweet things in my mind…”

“Thank you for saying that, but that does not change my mind at all…”

“Fine,” I conceded, giving him a quick kiss. “I do not know many people who love their names anyway…”

“Oh, I beg your pardon!” he protested. “Antanasia is very musical!”

“And awfully long!” I chuckled, “not to mention the number of people who confuse it with Anastasia! But we are drifting from the main subject here… what about your father’s name?”

“Out of the question. Not negotiable.”

“Albus?”

“Albus Snape… somehow, the two names do not fit together…”

“Well, can you suggest anything?” I asked, while nesting my head on his shoulder as he turned on his back.

“It is difficult to say,” he said, after pondering the question for a moment. “Cainites give a lot of importance to the meaning of names… what meaning would we want for the baby’s name?”

“Oh… that is a tricky question,” I conceded. “Angel?”

“Too… Muggle-based.”

“I agree… I do not think we will find a name meaning what we see in this child, Severus… but we can try. Wait here.”

I wrapped myself carefully in his cloak and Flooed to the library. I found an enormous book with name lists and brought it back to his room. Severus and I spent over an hour flipping the pages, trying to find a name that would fit with the events, with our feelings… either the significance was not relevant, or the name did not sound agreeable to us. We finally abandoned the search and went back under the sheets. Though we were weary from the advanced time it was in the morning, our minds were still whirling with all the names we had just read; they just kept searching despite ourselves. Neither of us could fall asleep until Severus startled slightly and turned on his side to face me.

“Antanasia… my mother’s name was Cordelia, as you know. What would you think of Cordelius?”

“Cordelius Snape…” I enunciated out loud. “It sounds masculine, yet musical. And I like the link with your mother; it is as if she could take him under her wing…”

“I like that idea…” he thoughtfully said. “So we keep that one?”

“Definitely,” I replied, feeling a warm and sweet sense of relief.

It was good to fall asleep with that feeling still very present within me.

A few hours later, at sunset, Severus and I woke up before all the others and went to the garden. He picked a couple of white carnations, and I did the same with roses and lilies. I took the time to sit with him on a discreet bench and braid the wreath, adding delicate touches of green here and there with vine, which I tied around the flowers to hold them together. Somehow, I got lost in thoughts while braiding. The sunset light fell in thousands of golden shades over every of nature’s gift and beauties all around us. Severus let me check and recheck the leaves and flowers unnecessarily for a few minutes before he put a warm hand over mine and murmured that it was time for us to go.

We Apparated on a deserted shore next to the Black Sea and sat there in silence, watching the rest of the sun sink slowly into the watery horizon and for once, I felt some meditative thoughts in Severus’ whirling mind. Once the sun had completely disappeared, I removed my protective clothes while he lit up a magical fire. I put the wreath on my head and walked closer to the fire, which danced beautifully in the dark night. I stood there for barely a few seconds before my lover’s hands glided over my waist and pulled me close to him.

Without saying a word, he slid his small knife in my hand. I clenched my teeth and squeezed the blade in my palm. As I turned and handed him the knife, I noticed that he had already made a cut in his hand. He gave me a knowing glance; he was waiting for me. Together, in one sharp move, we waved our injured hands before the fire and our blood fell into the flames, which turned to a fiery red. Both our blood… in one simultaneous move… our little boy’s soul knew of our presence, intertwined as one. That thought brought me a wonderful relief and comfort.

I turned to Severus and he put his hands on my arms, stroking them reassuringly. Pulling me to him, he leaned his forehead against mine, just like we had done in the lime-tree clearing. Curiously, my thoughts did not linger over the weeks of anxious waiting, of painful longing and of bitter disappointments I had endured before my miscarriage. With my lover holding me so close, being so present with me in that painful moment, I rather thought of all the things that could have been. The beautiful things… the beautiful things that were, if only for a few weeks, the life Severus and I had created. After a while, I felt Severus’ presence even closer, as he slipped delicately into my mind to share my experience more intimately. I concentrated particularly hard on the things I had felt inside me, during the last nights when our son’s presence felt clearer and more definite to me. The grip of his fingers tightened slightly.

Without a doubt, the hardest part for me was when I had to remove the wreath from my head. When Severus’ forehead parted with mine, I knew it was time to break the one last tangible link that united me to Cordelius; it was time to acknowledge his death. I remember that I grabbed Severus’ hands as they aimed for the wreath and I broke down in tears.

“Just a few more minutes, please,” I softly sobbed. “Just a few more…”

“Fine,” he reassuringly murmured, taking me into his arms. “We are in no hurry, take your time.”

I took the wreath off myself after a while, clenching my teeth and trying to take deep breaths to give me courage. Severus did not turn to the fire; to my surprise, he put his long fingers along my jaw and made me look up at him, wiping the few tears that were still flowing down my cheeks with his thumbs. Once my breathing came back to normal, he put both his hands on the wreath I was holding.

“I, Severus Snape, recognize Cordelius Snape as my legitimate and loved son,” he declared, in a steady voice that rang with emotion nevertheless. “May his soul rejoin those of my ancestors who shall welcome him as one of theirs, and grant him their protection.”

This was an unusual speech for a burial; I had never heard it before. Yet Severus pronounced it with such natural self-confidence that I assumed it was part of a ritual he was used to; he informed me later that it was an ancient family tradition to officially recognize a child and request the family’s ancestors’ protection. I found those words beautiful and they moved me deeply, so I repeated after him and made the same speech he had just done.

In addition to being beautiful, the words that came out of my mouth brought me a lot of comfort. It became easier to let go of the wreath, as I was somehow reassured that Cordelius was not left alone in the dark. He belonged to a family… to two families. He had a place to go to…

Severus and I turned to the fire and looked at the dancing flames for a few more minutes, holding the wreath together. When we felt, in each other’s soul, that we were ready, we let it fall delicately; the fire swallowed it whole with its fiery mouth. The flames rose many feet high, aiming for the starry sky, so suddenly that Severus grabbed my arms and made me step back a little. I appreciated the way his arms lingered around me and rocked me slightly, just as his cheek leaned against my temple, until the fire came back to a normal size and colour.

“It is over,” I murmured sadly, nesting my nose in his neck.

“It only means that we will both carry him in our memory, Antanasia,” he replied, stroking my back. “Nothing can take him away from there.”

I shivered against his chest, but more from comfort than pain. That was one way to see it… and frankly, I could not have found a better one myself.

~*~

We spent peaceful nights at Zaharia after the burial ritual. My heart felt a little lighter with the steady passing of sunsets and dawns. Severus and I grew quite fond of the solitary wanderings in the Carpathians; it became a habit that gave us precious and appreciated hours alone together before dinner. We generally let our thoughts or our conversations drift in all directions, leading us to talk about a wide variety of topics. This is how I learned that Severus was an only child and he learned I had had two younger sisters and a little brother. We discussed our childhood memories; I learned more about his mother and grew even fonder of her. She had apparently brought him a lot of soothing care, and tenderness. It was obvious in his voice whenever he talked about her.

“But what about your father?” I asked one night, seeing that he was only skimming the subject once again. “You never really talk about him… why?”

“The reason is simple: I am trying to forget him the best I can. Talking about him really is not my favourite hobby,” he sneered.

“From what you told me, you and him he were not on friendly terms…” I tentatively said, hoping it would encourage him to open up more.

“Not really,” he sarcastically confirmed. “I think the only thing my father was on friendly terms with was his bottle of Firewhisky.”

“So he drank a lot?” I softly asked.

“And often,” he confirmed, as the muscles in his jaw tensed and twitched ominously. “And when it happened… well, it did not improve his nature much.”

“Which was?”

“Oh, well,” he growled, in a very low voice, “my father is a temperamental man; no need to tell you that he passed that charming trait to the next generation. He often broke into outbursts of anger, but when he was sober, it was only limited to words… insults… threats… and so on. When he was drunk, it was another story. It often came to blows… and to quite a few nasty spells as well.”

“So your mother and you were victims of this?” I asked, frowning and putting a hand on his forearm.

“My mother more than me, when I was too young to defend myself. But I eventually grew up and I am a quick learner… as I told you before. And from then, I took most of my father’s tantrums on me.”

“It must have been terrible to grow up in that atmosphere…” I commented. “Always on your guard, having to defend yourself all the time…”

“I managed to grow myself a pretty thick shell, you know,” he replied, plunging his eyes in mine and patting my hand reassuringly. “But seeing my mother suffer like she did… this is the one thing I never got used to. You can be sure that he will never have my forgiveness for what he did. I will take it to my grave.”

“Do you have any contact with him?” I asked, after a long silence.

“The last time I spoke to him was at my mother’s funeral, nine years ago. And speaking is a big word; he tried to talk to me but I mostly ignored him. If I remember well, the only things I told him were rough attempts to make him go away and leave me alone… just like he did when I was young.”

We never talked about his father again while we were in Zaharia, but though he did not say much, the things he shared with me said a lot and helped me understand him much better. Similarly, he took me by surprise one night, as we were comfortably snuggling against each other, sitting exactly where I had seen him fly above the mountains on the hippogriff. We remembered the details of that evening together and giggled at the tenseness that marked our first encounter in the sky.

“There is one very important thing I still do not know about you, Antanasia,” he said, his lips tickling my earlobe.

“Oh, that question sounds like trouble,” I teased.

“Not at all,” he assured, “but it is very personal.”

“Go ahead… I have nothing to hide from you.”

“How did you become a cainite?” he straightforwardly asked.

“That is one tricky question indeed!” I replied, faking shock. “What have you figured out?”

“There is no way for me to know,” he replied. “I read that many cainites are reborn in times of war, when new fledglings are needed… and that many are not given the choice by their Sire, that they get attacked unexpectedly…. I also heard that some Sires are more civilized and actually ask a human’s advice before performing the Embrace on them.”

“The things you heard are true, and as much as I wish Sires could act responsibly and courteously, many have abused from their powers that way, it is true. Even Valerica, whom you know as a generally mature and soft-tempered cainite, performed the Embrace a little quickly on Ivantie, who was not really given any choice. I tend to think that the widespread use of the Blood potion has calmed some of our hunting instincts, but they can resurface pretty quickly.”

“Indeed,” he purred, nibbling on my neck in a very ticklish way. “But you are not answering my question!”

“I was coming to it, Severus,” I giggled. “I was not in any of those categories, and I am afraid you will find my answer… a little disappointing.”

“Try me…” he said, more seriously, before he plunged his eyes in mine and waited for me to speak again.

“No Sire chose me… I chose my Sire, or so I like to think. I pondered the question for years before I made my decision, but the decision was still mine.”

“Are you telling me that you chose to become a cainite?” he asked, a little puzzled.

“Exactly,” I confirmed, smiling at the additional question that appeared in his dark eyes. “For reasons that might appear selfish or cowardly to you, but those were my reasons at the time.”

“And they are?” he asked with a certain eagerness.

“You do remember that night when you and I watched the stars together in the dungeons,” I began, and he nodded. “I told you that I was asking strange questions when I was a child, about death, for example. When I became an adult, the answers I had gathered here and there were still not satisfying me, and I finally came to admit to myself that I was in fact really scared of dying. Magical people lived long lives even in the 18th century, but it was not enough, for me.”

“What were you so scared of?”

“Non-existence. The process of dying per se was scary to me, of course, but the thought that one night I would cease to exist was simply terrifying. There were many, many things I did not understand at the time, like the natural cycle of life and how things never really disappear or vanish, but simply take other forms. Afterlife was a perspective that calmed that anguish greatly.”

“That is one reason; what about the second one?”

“Like any good Ravenclaw, I was interested in knowledge… and power, in a certain way. I felt there were millions of things left for me to learn and master in witchcraft, and a human lifespan did not seem long enough for me to learn it all. That was very foolish of me, you know,” I giggled, “because though the cainite powers improved my skills a lot, I was not omniscient and invincible and obviously, there are many magical skills I still have not mastered.”

“Yet,” he taunted.

“I have come to the conclusion that one cannot know or learn everything. The more you learn, the more you become aware of all the things you do not know. Ask Vlad!” I chuckled, and he smirked. “Anyway… I thought those two advantages, and many others I did not know, were worth the sacrifice of my human life. I fled my parents’ house and Apparated my way to Hungary, where I found Sebestyen.”

“Why Hungary? Wasn’t there any Clan or brood in or closer to Ireland?”

“There were some broods, but I did not want to base my choice of a Sire merely on the convenience of proximity. Choosing a Sire was no light decision to make. I was to remain linked to that man or woman for the rest of my afterlife, and that might mean a very long time. I wanted my Sire to be powerful, knowledgeable, but also to be in tune with my heart and soul. And of course, that cainite had to have belonged to the Wizarding world before his or her rebirth; I did not want to take the chance of losing my powers as a witch by being reborn by a cainite who originated from the Muggle kind. I had read about Horatiu and Sebestyen in the Ministry’s records and they were both on my list, along with a French female Sire and a Russian, Pietr, whom you have met two weeks ago.

“I met with the French Sire first and we got along well, but though we spent an agreeable time together, I did not feel connected enough to her. I did not mention the real reason for my visit, of course, and simply thanked her and left for Hungary. Sebestyen was not in his castle when I arrived, so I rented a small room in a hotel and patiently waited for him.”

“You must have drawn attention to yourself, a witch of your age, travelling alone,” he commented, frowning.

“I was twenty-six at the time, so I was not considered that young. Most witches of my age were married and with children; I was an old spinster to them, you know!” I chuckled, seeing his eyebrow knit a very spontaneous and disapproving expression. “So though I met a few curious glances on my way to my room, my age stopped much gossip that might have arisen from my arrival.

“I waited for a long week before Sebestyen came back from Zaharia, where he had gone for a short stay. Horatiu, the founder of the Zaharia Clan and castle, had become a good friend of Sebestyen in the past decades, an alliance that proved to be crucial during the Russian invasion that took place later. Sebestyen relented to see me two nights later and I was received for tea (an altered one for him, as you can imagine) in the castle’s garden that was not as big as Zaharia’s, but certainly rivalled in beauty… and still does. He was surprised when he heard my request, but despite his astonishment, he looked at me with eyes that shone with genuineness and warmth; there was never the slightest trace of condescendence in him, and that is a quality that I appreciated right from the start. He received me every night for an additional week before I was invited for a formal stay at the castle. I dined with the rest of the castle’s inhabitants and got acquainted with most of them pretty quickly. They knew of the reason that had brought me to Hungary and it earned me many cainites’ sympathy and friendliness, which helped me a great deal to feel welcome.

“Sebestyen consulted Horatiu and the Great Dragon many times before he granted me my wish. I lived in Debrecen as a human for three long months before it happened; Sebestyen was never the type of cainite who liked to rush things. I am grateful for that long wait, in a way. It allowed me to know my Sire and my future Clan brothers and sisters better before I formally chose them. As I told you, he had a vision before he performed the Embrace on me; he saw it all in the Dragon’s orb. He never shared the prophecy that he heard about me, in order to protect me, I guess… but it gave me my name.”

“How was it? How did it feel to receive the Embrace and go through rebirth?” he asked.

“Sebestyen was an experienced Sire, and most importantly, a kind and caring person. The bite did not hurt the slightest; it felt extremely sensual and made me shiver in a way I had never shivered before. I fell in love with him the second I looked back into his eyes, which were all reddened and inflamed by the delights of the Kiss he had just given me. For some reason, however, he did not allow me to explore those feelings further. He slit his wrist and gave me his blood to drink… and from sensual and strongly sexual, my love became tender and filial as I drank afterlife from him and felt his very essence flooding my mouth and creeping into my veins. He held me in his powerful embrace and rocked me, murmuring reassuring words into my ear as I clung to his clothes in excruciating pain and in fear as the transformation began.

“When at last the pitiless claws of death let go of my wrecked body and the incredibly soothing stillness of afterlife settled inside me, Sebestyen lifted me in his arms and brought me to his resting room. He wanted me to spend my first day in a coffin with him; it is usually what caring Sires do, because that first day can be extremely frightening to fledglings.”

“Being enclosed in a wooden box for the first time can be… disturbing, at the very least,” he observed.

“Indeed, but fledglings do not really feel it during the day. During your first decades as a cainite, you are very vulnerable to the cycle of night and day. As soon as the sun rises, you become very tired, almost comatose… until it settles down again and gives you the capacity to wake up. That is frightening, at the beginning. So Sebestyen simply lay down next to me and let me put my head on his large shoulder before he closed his coffin’s lid. He placed a chaste and long kiss on my forehead, gave me my name and its signification, and I fell asleep shortly afterwards.

“He was a real mentor for me, and a father, in a way. I appreciated his teachings, his patience, his sense of humour… my heart still grieves for him, when I go to his castle and revisit the places we used to go to together. I used to bombard him with questions and he often teased me, telling me that I kept nibbling on his mind as if I wanted to drink it dry, whereas most fledglings usually aimed for his neck.”

Severus let me laugh at those happy memories, and waited for the sadder ones to make my laughter fade away and die before he spoke.

“From what you said, I deduce that he passed away?”

“He died at Horatiu’s side in battle, during the Russian invasion in 1756. It was sixteen years after my rebirth, so I was still extremely young and vulnerable as a fledgling. I felt like an orphan… I met Valerica and Ivantie at his burial and the rest is history, so to speak. I first lived in Poland at Valerica’s castle, and Ivantie visited her more and more often after I settled in. We became close friends, and he eventually convinced me to come and live at Zaharia, after we came back from our long stay in Vienna. Sebestyen and Horatiu’s Clan were united after the invasion, so those two transitions went relatively smoothly. From then, however, Ivantie and I became practically inseparable.”

“Have you and Ivantie ever been married before?” he asked, surprising me once more.

“No!” I chuckled. “We certainly mused over the possibility a couple of times. You see, no matter how deeply I love Ivantie… the thought of him being my husband never really found its place in my mind. I just do not think it should be his place in my life. Anyway, after a couple of centuries of such deep and intimate friendship, the frontier between being a couple and being friends is very blurred and not really important. We did not want to demand any form of mutual exclusiveness from each other, so whenever we fell in love with someone else, seriously or not, we let the other go relatively easily. There were some episodes of jealousy here and there, but nothing lasting and we eventually got used to that kind of peculiar friendship. I think it was the best way for us to keep being there for each other and adapt to the various situations we encountered in our afterlife. We usually are able to give each other what we need and that is why things remained the way they are.”

“So when either of you is involved in a relationship…”

“We stop being intimate together. Do not worry, Severus!” I said, giving a long massaging caress on both of his inner thighs. “He should not represent any threat to you. He even behaved himself when he came to Hogwarts and all the way back to Zaharia. I was technically single again, but nothing happened. I did not wish for more and Ivantie told me he did not want to hunt on another man’s territory…”

“How very wise of him,” he purred, undoing the buttons at the back of my robes very slowly. “And just to make sure he still thinks that way, I will plant a few additional Snape flags here and there…” he added, kissing the flesh he exposed with each surrendering button.

~*~

AUTHOR\'S NOTES

As always, thanks for your patience... and comments are always welcome! And even needed! :o)