Far Too Late For Visitors

A/N: Living in the sunny UK as I do, I must pay attention to the strict Health & Safety rulings of the EU and make sure that you are fairly warned that this chapter is of the longer length. Be sure to be sitting comfortably, take regular breaks to save your eyes, make sure you remained hydrated! Comfortable hiking shoes may also be advisable.

But enough of the warnings, it is a big beefy bit of work once again but I hope I don’t get any complaints about that! I am so pleased to be posting this, my first–ever last chapter!

Thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed this story, it’s been an absolute pleasure. Please review and let me know what you think afterwards! It would me an awful lot me. Enjoy! ~ Love Marie.

Chapter Five – When you make the impossible happen.


Her head was thumping, her mind filled with a foggy blackness, she kept her eyes closed. She brought her hands up to her head, rubbing at her face and eyes, and then flinched when she felt a pain in her side. The twisting memories of the swift and dreamlike fight spun quickly back into her mind, and she sat up with a gasp, her eyes flying open and then squinting in the unaccustomed light.

“Where is he?” she cried, although she wasn’t really sure whom or what she had meant by it.

“He’s gone – personal banishment!” A deep rich voice reminded her, and she felt warm hands grabbing gently at her wrist and shoulder, trying to still the slight flailing of her limbs in her confusion. “We might have sent him to France between us.”

His reassuring words and touch alerted her fully and she blinked at him while she calmed herself, his hands pulling away then, and she spoke.

“How long was I out?” she asked.

“Mere moments,” he said quickly, again reassuredly, but his face was still creased in a frown of concerned concentration and she did not know how to react to what he did next.

He leant forward briskly, like a healer, and without a wasted word or gesture he grabbed her bloodied t-shirt at the hem and then dragged it up over her head and off. She automatically raised her arms so that he could do so but then as she lowered them she tried to cross them inconspicuously across her almost-naked torso, not really wanting to appear prudish, yet still quite taken aback by being so suddenly undressed to just her bra simply because she wasn’t at all used to it. She saw that she needn’t have worried however, since even though the past day had instilled in her a deep desire to have him rip her clothes off and ravish her, this sadly did not actually appear to be his intent. His eyes remained discretely and professionally diverted as he placed the bloody garment on the floor, and also when he turned back to her, casting a scouring spell on the sticky blood on her skin. She stared down at her fresh, clean hands as he scourgified the blood from the bed and her jeans as well, and then he picked up her t-shirt to clean and repair it with another murmured spell.

She sat quietly as he did all this, just watching on the most part, deciding that silence was probably the best course of action when she hadn’t a clue what to say. He was being so efficient, so caring in a distant sort of way, and she thought for the first time with a smile about all of the Slytherin students who must have been comforted over the years by the brisk yet gentle actions of a distant head-of-house. It was a strange thought to have, and she noticed as well that she had thought it at a strange time, and also that it changed her opinion somewhat because of that time. She had imagined him as a friend and work companion and – though it was a little embarrassing to admit – as a prospective lover over the last few hectic hours and so she did not consider his caring now as a student would appreciate the actions of a teacher, but rather as a friend admiring the work of a friend.

Another voice rose in her mind, chiding at herself sarcastically. ‘Very good analysis,’ she thought to herself. ‘I’m sure this is just the thing to be thinking at this time.’

Once he had restored her humble t-shirt to its former glory he turned to her, his eyes fixed firmly on her face with a look of grim determination on his, and his gaze did not wander downwards even for a glance. His eyebrows seemed to dip in the merest hint of sadness as his concerned eyes scanned her face, and he cast another gentle cleaning spell which washed over her like a summer breeze, and she felt the stickiness of blood she was not aware of before then vanish from her face and hair. Her own eyes glazed for a moment as she was reminded of the scene downstairs and the sickly deep inescapable red. The concern was still in his eyes as he spoke quickly but softly.

“Is it bad down there?”

She could not speak but he saw the colour drain from her face as she nodded.

“Then we’ll stay up here for now,” he continued in a slightly louder tone, sounding a bit more like a teacher, staring at his hands as he gathered the t-shirt up in them. “I’ve cast a cave inimicum on the room and that should hold him out so long as we don’t both leave and break the protection. But we must act quickly, I’ve no doubt that if I can manage to use a pointfinder to get here then he will think of it too.”

As he was speaking he gestured to her hands then grabbed them roughly in his own, shoving the crumpled shirt over their joined grasp and threading it up along her arms, she raised them again so he could tug the t-shirt down over her head. The caring gesture of concern made her laugh for a moment, thinking that roughly cleaning her up was a very mannish thing to do, reminding her of her father. But the linking of this man with her father was a taboo subject even in her mind, it seemed, since she mentally screeched and dropped the thought like an imaginary hot potato. When he mentioned the pointfinder spell however, she felt the warm bubble of relief and a little pride at her actions, forgetting her previous thought forever and saying,

“No, he won’t. I changed the anti-jinxes to include pointfinders earlier.” The sound was slightly muffled by the white cotton fabric he was forcing down over her head and mouth. He gave a tug and her head popped out the top, her hair springing about, and she puffed it away from her face as he stared at her.

“You did? When?” His surprise caught him so that he held her t-shirt gathered around her neck a moment as he stared at her still.

“While you were brewing,” she said, once more beginning to become hypnotised by the dark stare of his eyes, she slowly lowered her hands a little. “Just a few hours ago.”

“Remarkable,” he whispered, his face near hers, his dark eyes staring. He once more began to pull her t-shirt down, but this time his movements were slow and careful, the warmth of his smooth hands brushing softly against her skin here and there. Her breath was suddenly more shallow and her skin was covered in goosebumps he must have noticed, but he dragged the soft cotton across her skin slowly and sensuously still. ‘Like a lover,’ she thought, her eyes wide and staring into his as she felt his hands move on her back and body, ‘Not like a teacher or healer, but a lover.’

She lowered her arms further as he finally finished pulling her top back on, meaning to grasp at his beautiful concerned face, but as she did another sharp pain sang in her side and she flinched at the sharpness of it. He suddenly pulled away from her as if he was burning, holding his hands down at his sides as she stood up, standing tall and straight at the side of the bed. He was breathing quickly and he stared down at her from his great height for a moment longer before he started pacing and talking once more.

“We must not delay in distilling the poison. Even without the ability to travel directly to the cottage we must assume that he is at least able to apparate as near as he can to your protective radius, which means he is probably already making his way across the landscape as we speak.” Still his strides were long as he continued to pace while he once more checked the time on the watch slipped from his pocket. “It should have stood for just long enough, but if I don’t distil it soon it will be useless.”

Her head was spinning – had it only been about a quarter of an hour since they had left the laboratory together? Was that what he had implied? It felt like hours and hours, her body was aching with a deep and sudden intense tiredness, she didn’t even know if she could get out of the bed. She knew she must though, she could not stand to be left alone while she felt so weak and still sick with fear. If he needed to go back up to the lab she would go with him. He saw her steeling herself to move and was instantly at her side again, pushing her shoulder to make her lie back down.

“No, don’t try to move quite yet,” he commanded. “It will take just a bit longer still for you to heal thoroughly.” She nodded and pressed a hand gently to her side where she could still feel the slight throb of pain now and then.

“Hermione,” his voice was quieter and questioning yet still very serious. “You can make alterations on your anti-apparation jinxes? Yourself, from here inside the house?”

“Yes,” she replied while she looked into his face with confusion. “From anywhere in the cottage.”

“Then I need you to remove them,” he took her hands in his own and quickly spoke again while she shook her head violently. “Only for a moment – a few seconds only! Would I be able to apparate into the lab then?”

She nodded vaguely. “It’s safe to apparate there – I told you the space is stable. But if Murasaki tries to apparate while the jinxes are down – ”

“I can’t deny there’s a chance he might,” he interrupted her, sitting down on the edge of the bed, his black eyes searching hers as he still held her hands. “I would protect you,” he said. “But the poison is imperative, and it must be distilled.”

“We could both apparate to the lab,” she said with another nervous nibble to her lip, trying not to be distracted by the warmth of his long fingers. “It’s secret kept and he probably doesn’t know it’s there! We could wait for it to distil up there.”

It was his turn now to shake his head, the long black hair brushing against his cheeks as it swayed, he sighed. “He would find us. And I wouldn’t want to fight him in your laboratory.”

She glanced away from him while she considered this, seeing the volatile elements explode in the presence of duelling magic, years of her work and experimentations being reduced to shattered glass as the outcome of a fight there. She knew he was right, they could not possibly stay or fight safely in the lab, yet one of them needed to cast the distilling charm on the brew upstairs.

She bit at her lip again and then finally caught his gaze once more, giving him a look of resignation as she nodded.

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll take the jinxes down.” But as she said it she felt a giant wave of fear swell up inside her.

“I’ll be as fast as I can.” He stood up and walked quickly to the end of the bed, standing with his wand ready, looking directly at her. She reached for her wand, which he had placed on the bedside table, and gave him one more look of apprehension before muttering the words to remove her protective anti-jinxes. His eyes stared into hers across the distance of the room before he turned quickly, once, and was gone.

She held her breath and began counting silently in her head.

Time was like treacle again, every second lurching by at an injured pace, giving an infinite amount of opportunity for her mind to fill with abject fear. Fear that the man she might see appear in front of her, dressed in black, would not be the one that she so badly wanted. Still she counted the seconds away, but her mind was also pleading to someone, anyone. ‘Don’t let him come,’ she thought to herself. ‘Please don’t let him come to us now.’

Another second crawled past, and she suddenly had the horrible thought that maybe the assassin was already in the room, and in her fear she screeched and scrambled to the end of the bed. Her heart was thumping as she stared all around her, ignoring the roaring pain in her side as her frantic gaze swept to the corners of the room, scanning every crevice and the curtains and headboard she had previously been resting against. She felt the smallest change of atmosphere, as if the pressure had dropped, and then magic crackled as he appeared with a twist before her once more. She gave a little cry of relief as she stepped off the end of the bed, using the post to steady herself in her slight pain, and he stepped towards her and held out his hand as he whispered quickly.

“The jinxes?”

She spoke the words immediately, shocked at herself for needing his reminder as she felt the anti-jinxes settling on her home once more, and she took his offered hand as she wavered a little. She shook her head again, her tumble of hair swaying, and said, “I shouldn’t have been so afraid.”

He pushed her gently and firmly backwards so that she sat down on the end of the bed as she had done during their talk earlier, and he kneeled in front of her, his hand still holding hers. Because of his height, he was still slightly taller than her even now, and she titled her head back a little so that she could look directly at him.

“Is the potion okay?” she asked.

“It’s fine,” he replied. “Distillation might take some time, however. You shouldn’t be sorry for finding a situation tense,” he added, and she smiled at what she felt was an understatement. “I was afraid for your safety too,” he admitted, looking down.

She sat for a little while she tried to calm herself, but she had emotions tumbling about inside her and she didn’t really know what to think of the man kneeling in front of her, holding her hand so gently in his. Surely he would naturally fear for the safety of any ally when under siege, as she now felt they were, his previous life leaning him towards a certain camaraderie as hers did also. But there was such a measure of remorse about him. Now that he was close to her – so very close – she had the opportunity to go through with her promise to herself, but now the moment was upon her her nerve was lacking and she hesitated, she felt the tremble of fear inside her. She would hate to be rejected by him, she valued the friendship he had shown to her and she feared losing that more than saving face, but in the quiet and dangerous room it seemed as if he certainly would not reject her advances and in many ways the thought of this scared her even more than anything else. It had been so long since she had trusted anybody in that way.

She looked down at her hand resting in his, the way he held it so carefully, and he ran his thumb along the back of her knuckles, sending shivers running along her arm. She glanced back to his face and he was looking at her once more, lines of concern still wrinkled in his forehead, and his dark eyes still staring at her own. She let her eyes linger on his long nose, his thin but parted lips, the dark black of his stubble on his fine sharp jawline. She felt a thrill of excitement course through her as she imagined running her hands through his hair and the feel of his skin on hers. It had really been so very long.

‘Oh to hell with it,’ she thought, and then she kissed him.

Her hands were gentle as she lifted them up and ran them into his long dark hair, clutching him softly as she leant in, closing her eyes so that she thought of nothing but the glorious smell of him and the warmth of his skin under her hands and lips. He did not respond but nor did he push her away, instead he was absolutely still while her lips dragged slowly, once, across his own. She lingered just a moment longer, leant in near to his warm body, her lips no longer touching his but still being tickled by his dark stubble. She pulled back slightly, still keeping her hands in his hair as she opened her wide brown eyes and stared up into his, feeling fire burn from him when he raised his own hand and wove it into her hair at the edge of her face. She leant into his touch, still staring into his eyes as the air crackled like magic all around them, and he pulled her towards him and kissed her properly.

Long-forgotten feelings sang though each one of her nerves, her skin was tingling and the hair on her arms and neck were standing on end, she felt a wild fire burning inside her. She could hardly breathe as his hot lips moved over hers, his rough unshaven face scratching at hers in a way she had never felt before, his warm skin and his soft hair and the taste of him was exquisite. She had surrendered to him completely, entirely, she could hardly think of anything but her want for him as their lips and tongues tangled in a heady rush of desire. His right hand was still threaded in her hair, with a slight pull which only made her senses spin more, and his left arm wound round her waist and hips and pulled her to the very edge of the bed so that her whole body was flush against the heat of his. She slid her arms down to his strong shoulders and wrapped herself around him as she let out a deep moan of desire, and suddenly he pulled away from her, his hand pushing gently at her shoulder as she opened her eyes hazily and stared up at him.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing across her cheek and red lips softly, his left hand slipping from her shoulder down the cool skin of her bare arm. His touch was still so gentle, still so filled with longing, it gave her reassurance that he did want her. He wanted her as much as she wanted him, and the knowledge of this was all the reassurance she needed, whatever might come from it.

“Yes we should,” she replied softly as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her body up against him once more, sighing with pleasure as he kissed her deeply. She let her fingers run along the curve of his back, the cotton of his black shirt slightly rough under her palms, then she dragged them back to his face so she could feel the movement of his thin cheeks and jaw while his mouth slid across her own. Still cupping his face in both hands she leant back slightly, looking into the dark intense stare beneath his knitted brows as she planted two or three gentle kisses on his mouth again, and then stuck her tongue out and licked it slowly across his parted lips while watching his eyes widen in surprise.

“Dear Lord!” he said gruffly, and he sprung back from her, pulling free of her arms as he stood straight a few feet away and she felt the coldness of his sudden absence. His eyes lowered as his head drooped again, his hair hanging down, and he spoke quietly.

“I can’t do this.” He raised his head and looked at her directly for a moment. “I’m sorry – ” He stared down at the floor again. “You can’t imagine how sorry I am, but I can’t do this.”

She stood on shaking legs and walked a step or two towards him. His shoulders were rising and falling with each of his deep breaths, his tall frame still looming above her and reminding her of their complicated pasts, the problems which could so easily arise from the heated situation they were in. She knew she should be seriously considering what she was doing as he seemed to be, and she knew as well that if she really thought about it she could find many reasons why their being together now would be a very bad idea, but she didn’t care about anything then but the man before her whose dark eyes were making her ache inside. They had both of them been hurt and it was likely that they would both be hurt again, but the consequences could be damned as far as she was concerned, so long as she could feel his skin on hers now. Everything else could wait.

She reached her hand out tentatively towards him as he had done, not wanting to force him but rather waiting for him to return to her of his own accord, and he did so, his long fingers reaching across the void between them and lacing with hers. His forehead was ridged with deep furrows, his eyebrows beautifully curved in a deep frown, his eyes met hers and stared with their deep and intoxicating darkness.

“Yes you can,” she said to him, reassuring him further with a squeeze of her fingers round his own. His expression changed before her eyes, his deep frown melting away to a look of careful concentration, but with the shadows of surprise and uncertainty lingering. “It’s okay,” she said as she stepped nearer to him, touching his expressive face as her body came close to his. “You can,” she repeated, and kissed him again.

His kiss was even more passionate as he grabbed her face in his hands, craning his head down a little so that he could kiss her thoroughly, his long strong arms pulling her warm body against him. She tilted her hips so that she was near to him as she could possibly be while still clothed, moaning softly into his mouth as his hands slid down and into the back pockets of her jeans, pulling her even nearer as she wrapped her arms round his neck and drank in his taste. She felt the hardness of his arousal between them and threaded a slim hand down to stroke him through the thin fabric of his trousers, his body starting in a jolt of surprise at her actions, and a low groan of desire came from his throat and made her heart race.

“You most certainly can,” she said with a smile, peeping up at him from under her long lashes. His hand caressed her cheek as he looked down at her with the merest hint of his wry smile, his breathing still quick as his other hand threaded with hers again, but there was still a look of trepidation about him as she searched his face.

“Please don’t worry,” she brought her arm from between them and reached up, gently stroking now at his furrowed forehead until he realised her intention and relaxed it. His smile slipped further across his face.

“I don’t know what will happen later and I don’t care,” she told him with feeling, her eyes fixed on his. “It doesn’t matter. Only this matters just now. Please – ” her hand moved from his face and into the dark softness of his hair, pulling on it gently as he had done hers, unsure as to whether she could bear the aching need the view of his stretching throat sent through her as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back into her grasp with a sort of purr of desire. “I want you so badly,” she finished in a low voice.

The guarded walls around both of their hearts crumbled away into nothing as they fully accepted one another in the dim light of the quiet room, his hands gripping her wild hair as he kissed her desperately, drinking her in as she started unbuttoning his shirt at his neck. Once it was open enough for her to touch him she leant her head forward, her nose snuffling at the skin on his shoulder and throat, her fingers still undressing him. Then she tugged his shirt away and discarded it, leaving him standing topless before her, each staring at the other while they took a moment to catch their breath. He was so beautiful to her she could hardly breath, this view of him was certainly breathtaking, his dark scarred chest and stomach more enticing than she could ever find words to describe.

He stepped towards her and she noticed his shoes had been discarded, his long feet visible beneath the hem of his long black trousers, his mouth curved in the sexiest smile she had ever seen. He was kissing her once more, his hands roaming over her body, she shuddered when his large palm dragged over a breast and hardened nipple. He continued to kiss her with a hunger, his mouth was compelling and insistent as they lapped at each other, but he was gentle too and smooth and so painfully erotic. She felt as if she were melting inside, her need for him was making her shake in anticipation, she still could barely catch her breath as he shuffled them both forward so that she stumbled backwards onto the bed.

She lay back on the white cotton, staring up at the canopy above as her body sucked in cool air, and she felt him tugging her trainers and socks off. She lifted her head to look down at him and he crawled up the bed towards her, his shoulders working and his hair trailing as he did so, his wicked twist of a smile making her pull him onto her as she licked his lips once more. She planted kisses on his jaw and on his neck, making him groan when her tongue slipped around the skin at his ear, her fingers raking across his ribs and stomach. She loved the feeling of power she had over him at that moment, and that she knew he had over her too, and she knew she would never regret her actions regardless of what lay ahead in the future.

He unbuttoned her jeans and then dragged them from her body, standing up to pull them free of her legs, and she knelt up on the bed in front of him and pushed his trousers and underwear over his slim hips. He gave what could almost be described as a chuckle as he whipped her t-shirt off unceremoniously once more. His eyes were not diverted this time, however, and neither were hers as she raked her gaze across every inch of his beautiful body than she could see. He was thin, but his muscles were strong and firm beneath his pale skin, the black of his hair a dark contrast to the white beneath. Any details were lost in a whirl of touching and urgency, since he was pushing her further up the bed, until her back rested against the pillows and he slipped her knickers from her slowly. His left hand settled on her ankle and then slowly began running up her inner leg, sending a burning wave of feeling through her as he stared into her eyes and kissed her once more. His kiss was scorching as she felt him reach round her and unhook her bra, and then she was as naked as he was, pressing against his hot skin as he kissed her ear and neck. He worked his way slowly down to her collar bone, his legs tangled with hers as he leant on one elbow, the other arm still wrapped around behind her as he pulled her slightly from the bed. His tongue was licking her salty skin as he moved further down her body, and then he dragged the tip of it across her breast, making her writhe with feeling as his fingertips and lips played with her aching nipples.

He was still sucking on her, his smile wide as he moaned against her soft flesh, and his hand dragged across her skin, his fingers tracing lines of beautiful feeling across her stomach and thighs. Her hands splayed across his naked flesh as well, she tried to touch – to feel – every inch of him, so smooth – like ice – and yet it felt as if he was burning her hands he was so hot, their combined gasps of mutual feeling lingering in the quiet room as she watched his hands and his tongue and his eyes roam all over her. In time his hand made its way down between their tangled legs, his fingers playing in her damp curls a moment before he slipped them into her, sweeping across her clitoris as he leant his head against her breasts and moaned at the slickness he felt there.

“You’re so wet for me,” he gasped, his hand teasing her as he stared up at her, looking as if he was in pain he was so aroused. She could only stare open mouthed at his expression for a moment, the feeling of his fingers dragging across her wet clit making her whimper, and she dragged both hands through his dark hair as she answered him.

“I’ve told you how much I want you already,” she said in a low voice, her hands gripping slightly. “Don’t make me repeat myself,” she added with a sly grin, managing to imitate his impatient tone quite well.

He stared into her eyes as he smiled wickedly, his tongue stretching and slowly licking across her hard nipple as he slipped one of his long slim fingers deep inside her, and she gasped out before throwing her head back and covering her hands with her face, unable to take the feeling of him as well as his dark smouldering eyes. She sighed deeply as she began planting kisses between her breasts, working his way slowly down the length of her torso, her eyes rolling back as pleasure sang through her from his kiss and caress.

But as she felt the gently tickling scratch of his chin against her stomach, and the slight coolness of the tip of his nose as it pressed into her softness with each kiss, he suddenly stopped touching her entirely and she raised her head so that she could look down at his head hidden by his tangle of hair. He was looking down at her tummy, where a thin white line of a scar reached around to her side, and his hand was hovering over it without touching. His shoulders heaved as he sighed, his breath cool on her skin, and he whispered softly.

“I’m sorry.”

He did touch her then, the very tip of his finger running along the thin white line, and she reached forward and pulled him towards her. His body was warm and solid and felt so real as she lay with him between her spread legs, the dusting of black hair on his chest brushing her skin, his weight settled comfortably against her as she kissed him deeply.

“Don’t be,” she whispered quietly against his lips, her hand stroking at his temple and hairline before running along the lines of his creased forehead once more. “You saved me.”

It was almost as if she could see the wheels of his mind spinning as his brain worked, and she knew exactly how it felt to be caught up in such a long and unyielding train of thought, but she did not know what she could say to convince him to lose himself in the moment when she was barely able to convince herself. She brought his head down so that she could plant kisses along his forehead and tasted the saltiness of his sweat.

“Don’t think,” she told him as she slid her hands down his back to his bum, grinding her hips and making them both gasp as she drove against the hardness of his throbbing erection. His eyes were wide, unblinking, staring into hers as their noses and foreheads pressed against each other and their erratic breaths mingled. “Just – don’t think,” she whispered, and she felt a drop of his perspiration fall onto her face as his hands trailed down to her hips, gripping them firmly as he slowly slid into her with a strangled groan.

She moaned at the feeling of his length filling her, he was so hard and she could feel every inch of him as he buried himself deep inside, her hands clutched at the sheets beneath her as she stared still into the emotive gaze of his dark eyes. He remained still for a second, staring down at her face and nakedness as he hovered above her, panting at the feeling her body gave to him. Then he leant forward once more, cradling her face with a gentle touch as the other hand gripped her hip even tighter, and he slowly pulled out and thrust into her again. His face was almost a grimace as he moved his hips with exquisite patience, his hair growing damp and clinging slightly round his face, the line of heated red painted across the pale skin of his high cheekbones one of the most erotic things she had ever seen. His hot lips dragged deliciously across hers once to match with the slow pace of his third thrust, and he muttered a swearword against her soft mouth, making it turn into a delicious smile.

“Mmm, Severus,” she sighed, and the look that he gave her made him appear suddenly years younger. For just a moment she thought he looked as young and as vulnerable as a teenager, his gasping mouth and arched brows showing a raw wonder at the feeling between them, confused awe written across his whole face apart from the dark eyes staring into her own with the inescapable weight of years of sorrow. Then his teeth gritted and his eyes flickered shut now and then as he began to increase his pace, her breath leaving her as a moan as he thrust into her, and she thew her head back as felt his large splayed hand drag down her neck to her firm breast.

Sweat ran down his temples and trickled down to the end of his beautiful nose as he held her body close to his, pulling her hips forward to meet each one of his deep strokes into her, the sound of his voice making her scream as he moaned out his approval of her tight wetness. Her nails scrabbled at his skin as she groaned, feeling like a teenager too as the unfamiliar fire of their movement flared through her and made her shudder, the long years since she had been touched this way making it feel all the sweeter now.

His hand let go of her hip then, leaving the white marks of his grip behind, and he pressed his hand flat against the wall above the headboard and strained his arm and shoulder as he sped up even more. Sweat was trickling along her skin as well as she panted at the burning feeling inside, the wave of pleasure building up as she stared captivated by the lithe arm anchored above her, and she reached out and grabbed it to stable herself as she kissed him hungrily and wantonly. ‘How could anyone think he looked old?’ she thought to herself as she pulled back to watched the flex of his shoulders, the heaving of his lean chest as he groaned, the ripple of his stomach muscles as his hips thrust smoothly and deeply into her. She cried out at the beauty of his glistening skin, the sweat dripping from the hair clumped at his forehead, the incredible feeling of him moving frantically in and out of her as his eyes burned down on her.

He kept his hand pushed against the wall still as his other arm pulled her up against him, lifting her off the bed as he pounded against her, her face twisting as she moaned into his mouth and writhed her hips against him.

He swore once more and whispered her name, his breath hot and harsh in her ear before his tongue licked out at her sweaty sensitive skin, and she came hard with a moan and a shudder against him. Her eyes rolled back and her head tipped backwards as her body shook, his arm nestled along her spine and his hand was spread wide at her shoulders, holding her to him and supporting her as her clenching muscles wrapped around him and make him quiver.

“You’re beautiful, incredible,” he groaned as he lowered her to the mattress while her shuddering subsided, and he brought both hands down to support himself as he began to thrust quickly into her again with gritted teeth. She stared at him through heavy-lidded eyes and grabbed his face in her hands.

“Come for me,” she whispered against him, then kissed his parted lips slowly, erotically. “I want to watch you come for me.”

His face twisted into a beautiful portrait of painful ecstasy as his breath caught in his throat, one hand barely touching her face as groaned out her name, pushing deep into her one more time as his orgasm shook his body. She watched his face, his intense eyes staring into hers, biting her lip as the pleasure lined his face and continued to sing along her nerves, and she gasped aloud with him as she felt his liquid heat spurt inside her. She moaned once more and he leant down and kissed her lazily, and then he leant his weight against her and dipped his face into the nook of her shoulder, their bodies still heaving for air.

“Thank you,” he whispered against her skin.

“Thank you,” she replied, laying quietly under the safe warmth of his body.

==============================

She wasn’t sure if they had slept in the time that passed as they lay wound together in a tangle of limbs. Her eyes were heavy and she couldn’t remember the euphoric minutes which passed by directly after their frantic union, she just accepted the weight of feeling which settled around her as she lay against his firm chest, listening to the beat of his heart as his fingers ran lightly along her back and arm. She tried to remember every detail, every part of every second rushing by, making the most of the brief amount of time they were sharing together. Her leg snaked up and threaded over him, and his other hand caressed it lovingly, the rough skin of his palm still sending a tingle through her.

More time slipped by.

Her eyes were staring down at his long legs and feet when she felt him sigh, her head rising and falling gently with the movement of his body, and her fingers wound in the hair on his chest as she spoke.

“He’ll be here by now, won’t he?”

“Probably,” he replied.

She listen again to the soft thump of his heart beating under her cheek and ear, feeling the life and warmth radiate from his body, a chill of fear running down her spine.

“Will the poison be ready soon?” she asked quietly.

His hands stilled then but be seemed to pull her nearer to him. “Yes, it will have distilled completely by now,” he said quietly, his voice rumbling through his chest. “But it is up there, and we are down here.” He spoke with another slight sigh and a pondering tone as if he were considering a puzzle or conundrum.

“And he is here?” she confirmed, still looking down at his long toes.

“He is probably just outside the door.” They were whispering in the quiet room.

“Can he hear us?”

“No,” he told her, but still he spoke gently. “He’ll know that we’re here, but he can’t hear us, or get to us with the spells we put round the room.”

She lay quietly with her body stretched along and across his, feeling as much of his warm skin as she could against her own, the sickening fear building insider her at just what would happen once they had to leave the small moment in time they had taken for themselves. Genuine terror clutched at her heart when she remembered the hooded figure streaking across the room faster than she could glance, the gleam of his twin short blades, the way he had resisted their attack. Searing crimson burned in her mind and she clutched her lover nearer as she tried not to think of the cut and seeping flesh she had seen downstairs.

“I thought you would kill him,” she said into the dim room. “I wanted you to kill him.”

“I will never kill another person with magic,” his deep voice rumbled in a whisper. “I don’t think my soul could take it another time. But my fight with Murasaki is one to the death. It is why we need the poison.”

“You can apparate and get it?”

“He would be able to tell that the jinxes had been removed, and he would come for you if not for me.” His hands still clutched her to him as they lay quietly together.

“We could stay here until Harry and his force of aurors come and leave Murasaki to them?” She suggested with a smile, and she lifted her head then so that she could see him, and he grinned widely with a slight burst of laughter.

“I’m afraid that Potter might act irrationally if he stumbled across you is this position,” he said through his wicked smile, his eyes drifting down to linger for a moment on her beautiful smooth body draped over his.

In an instant her mind was playing the possible outcomes of the scene he had described, her best friend would certainly have many things to say at her decision to share her bed with the man next to her, his Gryffindor haste would make his temper rise before she could even begin to explain. She studied the professor’s relaxed face and closed eyes as she thought about what the members of the Order would say if they could see her now, and his colleagues at Hogwarts, and Ron and his parents and family. The terror of the black assassin filled her with nothing but dread, yet this was nothing compared to the empty feeling of absolute fear she felt at the realisation that if they made it through tonight, a much harder path would lie ahead of them before they could both be truly happy. A path that he perhaps would not want to walk at all. Desperate to think of something else, she changed the subject entirely.

“You have beautiful teeth,” she said, and laughed as he raised an eyebrow and opened his eyes to peer at her. He chuckled again and brought his hand up to cover his mouth.

“I told you not to hide your face from me!” She laughed again as she pulled his hand away, her heart nearly bursting at the sight of his grin of smile hidden behind it, and his beautiful teeth. He closed his eyes and she smiled as she lay her head back down onto the warmth of his firm chest, drinking in his smell with every breath.

“You have beautiful everything,” he murmured quietly as he held her tightly, and a dull heavy pain ached in her chest.

After a few more minutes alone together in the stillness of her bedroom the impossible could be delayed no longer, and they slowly moved apart through the white sheets, both of them strangely shy and withdrawn as they gather their clothes up. She pulled on her underwear, trying to ignore the painful tangle of emotions in her mind, and searched the room a moment for her t-shirt.

His hand was warm as it settled on her shoulder, sliding softly along her skin and down her arm as he turned her round to face him, her eyes hovering over his trousers and naked torso before looking up into the gaze of his deep brown eyes. He smiled at her once more, and she smiled up at him, and he slowly raised her hands into the air. He pulled her t-shirt down her arms for the second time that night, his eyes burning into hers as his hands swept across her arms and back, making the tiny hairs on her skin stand on end. The drag of the cotton and his warm skin across her body filled her once more with the memory of their stolen moment, and she felt like crying as he leant down and kissed her once more, his hands grabbing at her shoulders as he pulled her towards him.

‘If we can be together – If I’m ever lucky enough to be with him – it’ll be this I’ll love most. Not when he rips my clothes off,’ she thought to herself. ‘But when he put them back on me again.’

The kiss was sweet and gentle as well as passionate and meaningful, and then it was over, and they were dressed and standing a few feet away from each other with a nervous distance between them.

“You need to go up to the lab,” she said matter-of-factly, and he nodded slowly.

“And the only way is across the landing,” she added, and he nodded again and then met her eyes.

“You’re just going to make a run for it?” she asked as she stared at him and she felt she could throttle him when he just silently nodded once more.

“Well we can at least find out if he’s outside the door,” she said with a bit more anger than she meant, but her fears were ringing in her mind. She turned the handle and slowly opened the door a tiny crack, and then aimed her wand at the gap near the ground, the rose light of the spell spreading out in a fan from the spot where she had aimed. It hovered as a nondescript mist for a moment or two, and then she saw it form into the shape of her hallway with a dark shadow gathered in the corner, the mist darkening to show a presence outside.

“There is someone out there,” she whispered with a dry mouth, fear swirling in the pit of her stomach.

He was by her side in a moment, clutching at his wand as they both stared down into the shimmering glow of the mist, watching as the cluster of light began to slowly move.

“They’re coming towards the door,” his low voice whispered, and she watched the rose mist with eyes widened in fear.

Suddenly the door burst open and what looked like a trail of flame streaked into the room, dissipating the smoky image as it flew threw it, making them step back in alarm. Severus aimed his wand as it disappeared under the bed but Hermione slammed the door shut and chased after it, crying out.

“No, don’t!” She knelt on the floor as he cautiously approached. “It’s Crookshanks,” she said as she reached under the bed and then fished out the large ginger tabby cat, who looked up at him from her arms with an unknown look on his smug-like, catty face. She wondered for a moment how he could have found them with the protection they had forged around the room, but then she reasoned that cats always saw things that humans didn’t.

“Where have you been, hmm?” Hermione crooned as she went to snuggle into his deep fur, and then she saw that he had the sticky glistening red of blood all over him, and she cleaned him and herself while she tried not to think. Severus stared at the cat for a moment longer and then sat down on the end of the bed, his hand pressed against his heart for a moment, and then reaching up to cradle his head. She put Crookshanks down and he looked around for a moment before padding over to the tired man and rubbing against his thin legs. He sat frozen for a moment, and then he reached down and tickled the tomcat behind his ears, the thin smile curving on his lips making her smile too. He petted Crookshanks for a while more, the ginger tabby purring as contentedly as she had done, and then the cat leapt up onto the crumpled bed and curled up as he lay down to sleep.

“Yes, you stay here Crookshanks,” she said, and the fear settled on her once more. She opened the door slightly and cast the rose mist again, and they looked down at if for a few minutes, but no other shapes moved in the sketched outline of the landing outside.

“Will it show him if he’s not moving?” the wizard asked her.

“It should do, unless he is really still.” He raised an eyebrow and she nibble her lip before elaborating. “I mean really, unimaginably still.”

They both stared down at the empty box of rose light glowing eerily.

“I want to go with you,” she said, looking up at him.

He shook his head again and his shoulders drooped as his head shook again. “Not to the lab,” he reminded her.

“I’ll wait in the hallway then,” she replied, willing her to look at him. When he did she said, “Please?”

“Alright,” he answered as their eyes stared the other’s, a burning heat of feeling stretching between them but now – once again – they did not act on it. They simply stood for a second and looked at each other. “Do you have a badge or brooch handy?” he asked. She nodded and walked over to her small desk, picking something out of a small china dish on top, and then came back to him and put it into his outstretched hand.

“Ah,” he said with another slight smile as he looked down at her prefect badge. “I never had one of these.”

“You weren’t a prefect?” she asked in surprise.

“Of course I was,” he replied, looking slightly affronted. “We just didn’t have badges like this back in my day.” He added gruffly.

“What, back when there was no legal currency and everybody traded with chickens?” she joked as she pinned the badge onto the black cotton of his shirt for him. He looked down at her with his warm dark eyes and then narrowed them at her with a smirk.

“I think they had managed to get the concept of money working – just about,” he said as she smiled at him. “Just not badges,” he continued, and she laughed.

“Well you can have that one,” she said, and his hand reached up and settled slowly over it as his head swayed quickly in disagreement. “I want you to have it,” she insisted. “My ‘Head Girl’ badge is the important one, anyway!” she laughed again and he smiled down at her.

He tapped at the badge with his wand and it shone with a bight turquoise light before fading back to normal.

“It detects when a jinx has been altered, and from where,” he explained at her silent question. “Even if I’m upstairs it will glow again if you deactivate the apparation anti-jinxes, and also let me know where you are, and I’ll be able to apparate to you immediately.” They looked at each other still across the gap between them. “Deactivate the anti-jinxes the moment you see him,” he said deeply, and she nodded at him.

They stood and looked at the glow of the rose mist a moment longer, and then he turned it into wisps of nothing as he dragged the door open, and he stepped out into the empty darkness of the landing with her following quietly after.


==============================

It seemed as if she actually couldn’t breathe, she was so afraid. Every inch of her skin tingled as she stepped out into the blackness of the dark hallway. The silence drummed in her ears, so did her loud heartbeat, she walked on shaking legs. He turned to her as he reached the bathroom and stopped still, hand held palm out towards her, and she stopped next to him. He pointed a long finger down at the floor, indicating for her to stay, and she nodded up at him quickly. His eyes stared into hers through the inky darkness as his warm fingers cupped her face briefly once more, and then he was gone, leaving the warmth of his touch lingering on her skin.

Her body trembled as she drew in a sharp breath, pushing her back up against the wall, her head swinging from side to side as she stared around her. Her eyes were slowly getting used to the dark, but even so the black shapes and shadows were confusing in the night, everything seeming to be shifting just outside the line of her vision. The bookcases and cupboards which she knew intimately by day were toying with her mind now, throwing out lines shadows where she thought they oughtn’t, moonlight shining with a gleam through the window into corners she thought should be dark. Panic rose inside her.

A sliver of light cut across the darkened floor a few feet away to her right, slanting away from the smallest of gaps in bedroom door standing ajar, it trailed along the carpet like a piece of golden string towards the dark pit of the descending stairs. To the other side of her, further away at the end of the landing, the large window stood bare and empty with the milky white light of the moon shining in through its thin glass. Lines of shadows hatched across the floor and walls, too many to see in one glance, a mess of dark and light which flashed across her eyes again when she blinked. He could approach from either way, he could even be hiding now in the shadows at either end of the hallway, and she would not be able to see him. She could taste the fear in her mouth, bitter and vile, her throat seemed like it was constricting.

‘Oh, hurry!’ She thought. ‘Please hurry!’

The thin line of golden light was like a line between the shadows she could see and the shadows that she couldn’t. Beyond the light was only a deep blackness which she could not define. At first she tried not to stare for too long into this black void but, more than the clattering lines of light at the window, this vapid space of murky nothingness drew her wide brown eyes. The more she looked the more she thought she could see the faint outline of a person crouched in the dark space above the stairwell. She tried to disregard it as she did her other flights of optic fancy, but when she glanced along to her right again she began to think her paranoia might have some substance. But a man couldn’t possibly be crouched up there near the ceiling.

She continued to glance around her and then a vision came to her mind, a thought which settled with chilling terror in the very depths of her inside, the jarring memory of him scuttling up the wall of her bedroom like a deadly spider. A tingle ran down her neck as she spun back round to her right, stepping away from the wall. She stared at the lines which could be arms and fingers, the curving shadows which might be a calf or a back, not knowing if she could see any movement at all in the dark and wondering if she should cast a bright light all around her. The only thing stopping her was the heart-thumping fear she imagined would clash through if she did light the hallway, only to see his dark swift figure hanging in crouch and ready to strike, but she didn’t know if this would really be worse than the spine-chilling horror of seeing him slowly creep out of the shadows.

Hermione’s shoulders heaved in erratic sweeps of frantic breathing, her sweaty hand shaking as she held her wand out in front of her, and she almost fainted away into nothing when she felt the hands snake round her from behind.

They were gloved, and they were strong, and they definitely did not belong to Severus. The choking cry she uttered did not escape her, partly because of the painful grip of the hand clamping down over surprised mouth, but mostly because it was stifled by her body’s sweeping wave of fear-riddled paralysation.

In the very first second she did nothing but tense the muscles in her back as her only protection against the shattering stab to her spine she felt sure was coming, but it did not happen in the next indeterminable moment – another tiny shard of precious slow time – enough time for her to desperately think of the words to alter the anti-jinxes. She screaming them with all the power she could muster in her shock-filled mind as she tried to drag her mouth away from the iron grip of the black gloved hand, and a bright blue light like the spell Severus had cast on her badge flared around her, a blinding flash in the dark.

Hermione twisted desperately in that second, her frantic urge to escape mingling with the thoughts of apparation in her mind, but even as she acted it felt wrong - she knew it was wrong. She had not focused on a place to apparate to, and so in a moment of preservation she forced herself to concentrate fully on the empty spot in front of her before she disappeared, as her apparation instructor had told her to do long ago to prevent panic becoming splicing.

But this was only part of what was wrong. It was all just a fumbled moment, but she knew the assassin would not hesitate again, now that she had evaded him he would strike at her.

She twisted slowly through time and space, knowing that in less than even a fraction of a second she would reapparate into the dark hallway and his short steel blade would sing through her flesh, and a million possible actions flew through her head.

Had she said it aloud or had it only rang out in her mind?

She would never be certain of how her second full body bind came to be, she only knew she had cast it at all when she saw it snaking through the air from her wand as she faded into reality again, watching it capture the ninja as she spun to face him.

Long afterwards her memory of this moment reminded acutely of how much can happen in just one second.

Her hair spun across her face as she whirled round and as it fell from her eyes she saw the bright red light of her spell twisting up around the steel blade, freezing it in position as it rattled and shook with the wizard’s effort to fight against the binding magic, the tip of the sword hovering an inch from her wide eyes. Her face was drawn in open-mouthed shock as she focused beyond the sword, and in the red light of her spell she saw his eyes through the thin slit in his masked hood, and he looked back at her before she took both a breath in and step back. The air behind the hooded man became denser.

His black hair flicked about his face as he apparated, his tall frame becoming solidly black against the blue window as he twirled once, and she focused past both the sword and the ninja to watch him. The twist from the apparation became a stride forward, he raised his arm as he twisted a little more, and then his hand dropped to his side again, leaving a glass-headed pin sticking straight out from the silk-wrapped neck. He had apparated just a second after her.

She took another step back, her mind still trying to process everything that she saw, the silk covered man bound in red light still with his short blade frozen mid-attack, his body shaking as he still tried to fight against the magic. Severus stepped back too, only a step, and whispered the counter-curse.

She opened her mouth to protest but he caught her gaze over the shoulder of the smaller man, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he shook his head once, and she saw then that the assassin did not swiftly move to strike again but instead dropped his sword with a clatter. He was still shaking violently all over, his body almost a blur and he looked as if he could hardly stand, and he reached up a shuddering hand and plucked the pin from his neck. He studied the tip of it for a moment and seemed to sniff it, and he turned with an effort towards the professor, and Severus moved too so that they were facing each other.

“Gomen nasai,” Severus said with feeling, his long hands pressing palm to palm at his chest, and he bowed deeply at his waist.

“Arigatou gozaimashita,” the masked man muttered back solemnly, bowing with his hands pressed together also.

Then the smaller man brought his hands to his neck, pulling frantically as he dragged his black silk hood and mask off, his face and short black hair sweaty underneath. He continued to spasm wildly, hardly able to move because of his shaking, and he dropped down onto his knees on the floor as he attempted to turn to her.

“Dozo” the wizard gasped up at her, his mouth working as his struggled to breathe, his shaking hands holding something out to her.

“Take it,” Severus said quickly, seeing the confusion on her face.

She reached out to take the small object from the gloved hands, looking into the face of the man grimacing with pain before her, surprised at how young he looked. He seemed not much older than herself or Harry. She dragged in a deep breath as he clutched at her hand to press the small piece of cold metal into it, and then he fell panting on his hands and knees as she thanked him, not knowing if he would understand her.

“Suki,” he whispered as his clutched one hand to the black silk at his heart, and then he collapsed onto the floor, twitching once before he finally laid sprawled and still.

Hermione stared down at the lifeless body for a second longer, and then rushed through the slightly open door beside her, squinting at the contrast of the bright light in the bedroom. Her head was spinning and she sat on the end of the bed, holding her head low between her legs, her hand tightly gripped around the thing he had given to her. Then, once she had cleared the thumping in her mind a little and caught her breath, she sat up and looked down at the small object.

It was a miniature portrait, mounted in a tiny, simple gold frame. The girl in the picture was stunningly beautiful, with large black eyes and slick straight black hair which was arranged on her head with exotic flowers and long ivory pins, her lips red painted petals against the white make-up of her porcelain skin. Blossoms seemed to be raining down behind her and she stared out of the picture for a moment longer before lowering her eyes and drooping her head sadly.

Murasaki Suki. Hermione stared down at the beautiful young wife of the Japanese assassin, her mind a whirl of emotions as she tried to piece everything together, and she jerked her head up quickly when his hand rested on her shoulder.

“Help me move him,” she said firmly as she looked into the eyes of her lover, a crashing feeling of guilt raining down on her as she stood and freshly made the bed with a wave of her wand.

“Hermione – we shouldn’t move him.” But he spoke quietly and without any conviction. “You know we shouldn’t.”

“Just help me!” She cried, and she hurried back out onto the landing, lifting his body slowly with her wand. He aimed his wand also, helping to steady the corpse of the young wizard as they floated him slowly into the quiet room and onto the fresh white sheets, and she placed his hands together on his chest and laid the tiny portrait tenderly on top of them.

Crookshanks had been disrupted from his sleep somewhat by her hasty cleaning and their careful placing of the body of Murasaki, but once all was still again he jumped back up onto the bed, curling up against the assassin’s leg. Hermione moved to shoo him away but once more Severus’ hand rested on her shoulder.

“His is a welcomed presence,” he said quietly as he looked down at the sleeping ball of orange fur.

Her breaths were painful in her chest, a lump rose in her throat, and then silent tears began to roll down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook and she could not stop, but she made hardly a sound as she cried at the clash of emotions inside her, the extreme highs and lows of the last few hours catching up with her. His hand slid down to her wrist, pulling her firmly into his embrace without giving her time to hesitate, and as his long arms crushed her to him she thought he probably needed it as much as she did. They held each other tightly as she still could not keep herself from crying, and he buried his nose and face into her wild hair, speaking against her neck.

“Forgive me,” he said, his voice breaking.

“Of course!” She sobbed as she pulled back slightly to look up into his face. His beautiful, wondrous, expressive face. “It’s not your fault!” His expression was so full of grief she could barely stand it. “None of this was your fault. It shouldn’t have happened this way but it just did. Believe me!” She begged him as she held his face in her hands. He opened his mouth to speak when they heard the rumbling of many people shouting and running through the house and up the stairs.

In a fit of panic Hermione sprang back from his arms, dragging a hand through her hair as he stood straight and raised his chin, an impassive look falling across on his face. The next second Harry and several other aurors exploded into the room, filling the place with shouts and frantic commands, but her best friend still saw her red face and embarrassed glance towards their old professor.

==============================

Her body felt as if she had been awake for weeks. There were so many questions and so much repetition, Harry and his supervisor and his supervisor all wanting to hear it for themselves, and Hermione and Severus told it again and again as they sat side by side at the kitchen table avoiding each other’s eyes. Through some sort of silent agreement neither of them mentioned just how they had spent their time alone together in the bedroom as they waited for the poison to distil. People in the room had their suspicions, however, as they watched them both fidget awkwardly and the light blush which rose on her face.

Forms had to be written and signed, official statements had to made, the small kitchen was a hive of activity as people moved through the house assessing the scenes in the living room and bedroom. Hermione was reprimanded slightly for moving Murasaki’s body, but she was not really punished for it, her friendship with Harry adding to her cause once again as he stood up for her sympathetic actions. Japanese representatives from the ministry came eventually to take the ninja with them, and Dan, Ben, Stewart and Old Mac were moved reverendly through the fireplace as well. A troop of ministry workers cleaned her cottage around her as the hours wore on and the talking continued.

Then, eventually, they had finished. Severus’ protection as a war-time spy was deemed more than efficient to cover his actions during this long-standing feud. Sympathy for the Japanese wizard was dulled somewhat by the anger the aurors felt at the loss of their own, and it was deemed that no further questioning would continue on the case – once their memories had been officially obtained as they had both agreed to – and that Snape’s actions were really exactly what one would expect from a true ex-soldier of the Order.

Harry remained close to Hermione’s side as her scar was examined and her well-being efficiently taken care of. She was ordered to go to bed then, and it was only now that she had space to think that she realised that once more they had stayed up through the night, it was nearer to midday than she would have liked. She stood from the table then and brushed herself off with nervous hands, looking down at the man who was leaning with his head in his hands once more, but Harry was following behind her and she did not have the opportunity to talk to him before she began to walk upstairs. The chief auror addressed him as she left and she just managed to make out his deep reply.

“I must sleep now,” he said. “But I will be leaving this afternoon.”

==============================

She slept and slept and slept. Every time she woke it seemed impossible for her to pull herself together and drag herself from the bed. She ended up returning to her dreams time and again, getting lost in whirling images of corpses and fights, and of her body moving together as one with another. All of a sudden she did wake properly, her eyes snapping wide open, and she thought about how he had said he would be leaving and she knew she had to speak with him before he did. She sat up and found that she didn’t need to worry about finding him, he was stood staring out of the window once again, his hands clasped behind him.

She climbed out of the bed, fiddling with a piece of cotton at the cuff of her pyjama sleeve, walking barefoot across to him. She wanted to reach out and touch him but he spoke as she approached and she hesitated.

“Potter is still downstairs, with a few others. He wants to see you.”

“I’m sure he does,” she said, and she turned and stared out at the hills which were being lashed with rain once again.

“You’re leaving?” She asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “Soon.”

“I thought we could talk – ” she said haltingly, glancing up at him as she blushed. “I thought maybe we could talk about working together,” she said on her second attempt.

His neck craned forward as his shoulders sagged, and he shook his head, hiding behind his long hair.

“I don’t think I could work with you – opposite you – ” he was stumbling his words as badly as she had done, and it seemed to unlike him somehow, it unsettled her. “Not with you now, after – ” he hesitated again and glanced down at her. “ – Everything. ” He finished lamely.

“You don’t want to work with me now?” The hurt was in her voice, she couldn’t help it.

“Of course I do,” he told her, and he looked down at her then, looking into her eyes. “But I wouldn’t be able to trust myself – around you.” He looked away again.

“What does that matter?” She asked desperately, reaching out and grabbing at his arm. “You wouldn’t need to have to ‘trust yourself’,” she told him. “Why does it matter when I want you too?” She said, admitting her true feelings to him, and to herself.

“It would not be so easy for everyone else to accept,” he said smoothly, and she remembered her thoughts about what the Order and the Weasleys would say, and the knowing smug grins on the faces of the aurors downstairs earlier.

“I don’t care.” She decided firmly. “I wouldn’t care what they said about us.”

“You might think that now,” he said, speaking to her gently. “But it’s a very different matter in reality. The facts of the past we have shared cannot be denied. I was your teacher, your protector. There are many people who still question my true motives during the war and now, and though your time at Hogwarts might now seem far away,” he stared into her eyes but did not try to touch her. “ – to both of us,” he continued. “It would not seem like long enough to a lot of the parents there. A relationship between us could even now end with me losing my position. Not that I would care – ” he added hurriedly, “but I could not bear for you to have to live with the stains of my past.”

“What has happened in the past shouldn’t matter to us or to anyone, now after everything that’s happened the last two days.” She was shaking inside but she tried to keep calm, to reason with him the logic of the situation. “I know your motives and I trust you. What’s behind us doesn’t matter to me.”

“Are you sure about that?” He asked her. “I saw how you acted when Potter arrived. Do you not think there is some part of you that would be uncomfortable with me dragging you down to the dungeons? I have to admit the idea of it makes me a little – uneasy. I very much doubt it was something you imagined during your lessons with me.”

She wanted to argue with him but he was right, she had never had any sort of schoolgirl crush on him although she knew that others had, and despite her deep feelings for him now there was a part of her which recoiled at the idea of seeing him stalking in his teaching robes once more. It wasn’t a strong feeling, but if was enough for her to know that she would find it harder to ignore the complications than she first admitted, or wanted.

“But it wouldn’t matter,” she said firmly to herself and to him as an answer. “Not when there’s a chance we could be happy together.”

“Talking about chances again,” he said softly, with a slow shake of his head. “I don’t trust your acute judgement in this area,” and he smiled a faint smile, which she couldn’t help but return despite her pain. “I fear you might have miscalculated again,” he spoke more seriously. “I don’t think I could be the one to make you happy.”

“You don’t think there’s a chance I could be happy with someone I trust like I do you?” She was beginning to be a scathing tone in her voice, but she was angry with how he was acting. “That I wouldn’t be content with someone with your intellect alone?”

“I’ve no doubt that there is a very good chance of a brilliant young wizard making you very happy, but I’m afraid there is little chance of that being me. I am too old, too jaded.”

“Don’t make this about age,” she said in a low and dangerous tone. “You’re not old.”

“I’m not young,” he retorted, “and only getting older, but that is not what I meant or how I feel about my not making you happy. Although I have been able to live somewhat with the actions of my past I have in no way forgotten them, my search for self-redemption is ever ongoing, and they are yet other dark marks I would not have contaminating your goodness. You are like an angel,” he said, talking over her attempt to object. “And I feel blessed by this time that we’ve shared, but a person like me could not possibly be the right match for a such a talented, unique being as you.”

“This is insane!” She cried angrily. “You and your chances and possibilities or impossibilities! I want you and you want me and together we could do brilliant things. You have been like an angel to me also. You are talented and unique too! We aren’t so different, and there would be no limit to the things we could discover between us. Nothing would be impossible! Don’t you see?”

“I do see, I have always been able to see what powerful magic you could weave from your fingers, and I could only wonder at the things you will discover. Little did I know I would become tied up in you tightly,” he added, and he touched her then, reaching out and taking her hands in his. “But Hermione, you must know that life is not like brewing potions. You can do everything exactly as you ought and it can still all go awry. And, sometimes, working to achieve the impossible is not always worthwhile. Sometimes, in life, you can fight for the impossible and even if you manage to get it, it is actually a hollow shell of its former self, worn away by the grating of effort and time and opposition you have to battle through to obtain it.”

Her eyes were wide and stared into his but she did not say anything. He continued.

“As much as my heart aches at the thought of working with you, of sharing my life with you, the many obstacles we would need to fight would wear us down, and I would become bitter and angry and I suspect the same would be similar with you.” He squeezed her hands gently. “It’s like my wand, I could spend time trying to find it again and I might eventually be successful, but the strain of the effort would far outweigh the pleasure of having it again. Sometimes, in life, you need to just let some things go.”

“And sometimes fighting for the impossible is how it should be,” she said to him, quietly but secure in her thinking. “Sometimes things are just meant to happen.”

“But do you really think we were meant to happen?” He said almost as a whisper.

“The last two days happened, didn’t they?” She asked him, but the fire in her belly was dying leaving a dull aching pain again. “It was my door that you chose to come to.”

“And I’ll be grateful I did for as long as I live,” his thumbs ran over the skin on her hands. “And that you answered me. You saved me, and I could believe that that may have meant to happen – you are such a angel,” he repeated, and she blushed. “But I would not dream of hoping it could be more than that.”

“Perhaps I will be able to prove you otherwise?” She asked him. “Proof that some impossible things are really meant to happen.”

“I would want to be the first person you came to with that proof,” he told her, reaching up a hand to cup her face.

“Maybe I’ll visit at an unsociable hour,” she said with a slight smile.

“I can’t tell you I wouldn’t long for it, but you shouldn’t think that way. I’ll never regret these few hours, but I am sorry that it has hurt you, that my – ” he hesitated a moment “ – taking advantage of our situation will leave more than just one scar. But we should try to see if for what it was, and no more.” A single tear rolled down her cheek, but she did not try to argue. “You can try to press your insufferable Gryffindor optimism on the situation,” he repeated gently with a smile as his thumb swept her tear away. “But in the end it will do neither you nor me any good. You’ll not find a reason to visit me, I’m afraid.”

She did not know what to think, but she knew there was nothing she could say to make him change his mind, not right now. She would think things through once he had left, and she might find that he was right, but she felt now as if it wasn’t over – it couldn’t be over – just as it had begun. She would try to make him see differently, but she was patient, and she would take her time about it as she always did.

“I’ll never regret inviting you in,” was what she told him, and she kissed him one more time before he left her again.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back, and although it was not as deep or as wild as it had been the night before, she nearly cried at the emotion she felt burning in his kiss and in her heart. Then it was over, and they stood apart for a moment or two, and then he turned and walked towards the door. She spoke as he opened it.

“I will be visiting you, Professor,” she said, and he was still for just a moment before he walked through the door and closed it behind him, gently.

==============================

The rainy days of spring had made way for the roaring long days of summer, and the hills around Hermione’s cottage were bathed in blazing sun. She paused from her note-taking as she gazed out of the large windows into the glorious light, and she decided to head outside into the beautiful weather and take a break from the long hours in her laboratory, reasoning that she probably wouldn’t get much work done anyway.

It was three months to the day since he had arrived dripping wet on her doorstep, and for some reason this day, today, she could not stop thinking about it all, and about him.

Her mind was still pondering over it all as she strode up a steep path on the rocky peaks, wearing a large straw hat to keep off the glaring sun, pausing now and then to look down at her tiny cottage nestled far below. Once she reached the summit she did not go down the path towards the lake as she usually would, but for no reason she could think of she decided to go a different way instead, walking towards a small wood which grew densely to the south.

It had only been three months, yet at times it all felt like a dream, the only proof of it she had at all was the thin white scar on her stomach and a new carpet in the sitting room to cover up the red staining on the floorboards which she could not clean or magic away. She strode across the lush grass, looking up into the bright, clear blue sky.

It had been painful. It had been painful when he had left, and when she had missed him, and when she thought about him while alone in the middle of the night. It had hurt meeting with Mrs. Crampiddle to convey the last loving message from her husband, and the widow’s tears had hurt her, and the memory of the time she had spent lying in Severus’ strong arms hurt her when Mrs. Crampiddle told her she should make sure to hang on to what she loved.

It had hurt too when Harry had accosted her in her moment of self-pity, demanding to know every detail which she had withheld, and acting as shocked and appalled as she imagined he would when she told him. It has confirmed part of his logic, that the judgement of her peers would be hard to take, and she managed to convince Harry that it was over with and to keep it a secret.

She walked a little way into the wood, and then was drawn to an old oak tree, and she sat down beneath its spreading branches.

The rumours had spread anyway, muted shock and indignation mixed with admiration for the two war veterans, still fighting against dark wizards of all creeds. There was actually very little fuss made about the whispered accusations at Hogwarts, and then during a visit Ginny had told her that Harry had said that the Headmistress had spoken to him about how low and withdrawn the potions professor had been since Murasaki’s attack, and people she knew had commented on the significantly less amount of time she was spending in her lab. Hermione had noticed the tone of the whispers and rumours begin to change. Perhaps they could be happy together, their mutual acquaintances whispered when they were alone, the age difference shouldn’t matter when considering two such brilliant minds.

She lay back, resting her head on her arms, and stared up into the long branches and the wide green leaves above as the sunlight shone through them.

Time had shown both his and her worries about their acceptance to be exaggerated, people whose opinion she had previously feared had practically instructed her to go find him in the last few weeks, but this did not help her to solve the problem of his own insecurities. He had said he could not make her happy, and although she felt it was is self-esteem which was his real problem, she could not go against his expressed wishes. She could not ask him for more than just a night without the proof, the proof which she had offered to find, that could some show him that some things – that they – were meant to be.

But where could she find such a thing? What could she possibly find which would prove such a pivotal and elusive belief of hers? She had been thinking about this for the last three months, and she still did not have an answer.

She continued to stare up into emerald leaves above her, trying to empty her hectic mind, taking in the sounds and sights and smells of the unfamiliar and beautiful place. The first time she saw it she disregarded it as nothing, and she did this the second time she glanced at it too, refusing to believe that it was anything more than her obsessed eyes playing tricks on her.

The third time she looked at it however, she studied it intently, hardly daring to believe her senses. Her heart was pounding as she reached up and slowly nudged it from its resting place in the low branches of the oak tree above her, and it thundered even faster as she caught it, staring down at her hands with her mouth and eyes wide in disbelief.

Once she had cast a spell over it, the only spell she needed, she felt like she could scream and shout and throw her arms in the air and sing. She didn’t though, but just stood staring down at her hands, thanking whoever was listening for giving her what she needed.

Her proof.

==============================

It was sunny again the next day both at her cottage and in the merry village of Hogsmeade when she apparated outside the Three Broomsticks. Her heart was racing to be back in the wizarding community again, but she quickly to her arranged meeting, since she had a plan for how she wanted the day to go and she didn’t want it ruined by anybody spotting her. She walked quickly through the large gates into the grounds of Hogwarts and made her way to Hagrid’s hut, laughing as he threw open the door and lifted her up into a bone-crushing hug. He thanked her for the owl, making her tea as he told her how glad he was to see her, but the sedateness of the welcome without Fang’s frantic capering still saddened her a little after all this time.

She didn’t know whether to be honest at first, wondering how her old friend would take her revelations, but he second guessed her anyway and insisted on hearing the whole story. He listened intently to her rendition of the two dreamlike days, and he clapped her on the back when she told him just why she had come to the school that night, and he shook his head in wonder when she showed him her proof.

They talked late into the night, and finally Hermione looked across at her dear friend, and a thrill of fear and excitement ran through her as she spoke.

“It’s time,” she said.

He walked her to the castle and let her inside, making sure she knew where she was going before he kissed her on the cheek and wished her goodnight and good luck, then he left her alone in the entrance hall.

It was so late that it was actually becoming early, and the castle was completely quiet, the students and teachers all sleeping far away. She took a moment to look around the place, to take in the familiar feel and smell, and then with another wave of excited fear she headed down towards the dungeon rooms. The colour of the stone and the coldness of the place, even during a balmy summer night, reminded her of the things he had said about her returning here and brought hovering uncertainties to her mind.

‘Perhaps it will be better if he’s not in his teacher’s robes,’ she thought, and she really hoped then that he wouldn’t be. Still she walked along the corridors, heading for the door to his private chambers, far beyond the OWL and NEWT classrooms.

‘Please let him believe me,’ she thought as she turned the last corner, her breath catching as she neared his door. She stood and tried to pull herself together for a moment, then she took out her proof and held it out in one hand.

‘Please don’t let him push me away,’ she thought to herself as a final wave of terror washed over her, and she thumped on the door loudly to make sure that he heard her. He obviously had done because he quickly answered her, hurriedly opening the door, and then freezing in his surprise at seeing her there.

He was not in his long robes, instead wearing a white shirt and black waistcoat over his trousers, his hair was tied back but stands of it fell loose about his face. His expression was startled but pleased as well and she smiled at him, her heart singing in delight at seeing him again.

“I’m sorry to bother you at such an hour, Professor,” she said through her grin. “But I would be much obliged if I might step inside a moment?”

His eyes were staring at his wand in her outstretched hand, and then flicked to her face in wonder, before staring back at his lost treasure.

“I know what you might be thinking, but I didn’t search for it,” she told him honestly and earnestly. “I just found it. Would you believe me if I told you that some impossible things are just meant to happen?”

His smile broke wide across his face and she could see all of his beautiful teeth as reached out and took her hand.

“Of course,” he murmured as he pulled her against him. “I have never thought it hard – to trust you,” he finished, kissing her gently as the seconds drifted past.

~ The End ~

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A/N: Tada! *takes a bow* Thank you very much for your support. I don’t speak a word of Japanese but I hope these are accurate:

‘Gomen nasai’ means ‘I’m sorry,’

‘Arigatou gozaimashita’ is the *formal* variant of thank you, which I thought a bit more fitting.

‘Dozo’ means ‘please take this’ thought it might be ‘douzo’, I’m not sure.

Mmm Severus speaking Japanese *dribble*

Some review replies for lovely people who supported me during this fic:

RedWritingHood: Nasty ninja got his comeuppance! But sorry for not having a super good fight. It all turned out a bit stealthy and underhand. Maybe next time! Thank for your reviews, hope you like the last of it.

CB13: *blushblushgrinblush* Oh hush! I am shrinking with embarrassment at your praise :D I’m glad you liked the sciencey-stuff, I’m not really a science person but I wanted to try something different and it’s always good when someone picks up on it. Thanks for reviewing!

ApollinaV: It stayed at five – a really long five! Haha I hope it was a good bit of writing for you to get your teeth into and I hope it all played out to your satisfaction! Thank you again for your recs and reviews and continued support. *big hugs* Did it work well? :)

Laura Dunstan: Thank you for reviewing! Sorry there was only this chapter and not another four, but I am really glad that you like my story and I hope you enjoyed the end of it.

Narcissas Sister: I was sad at killing Crampiddle etc too! I had written them in just to kill them really but when it came to it I was really quite upset! Haha boyfriend was making fun of me for being so sensitive but I’m glad others feel the same!

Neelix: More than a kiss this time! Hope it was jolly good fun reading as it was writing it, my first ever smut! *pins on smut-writer badge proudly* Thank you so much for your repeat reviews :)

Nmos: Glad you liked it! :D Thanks for reviewing.

Heidi191976: Thank you for your reviews, I hope you liked the last chapter :)

Melankali: *grins* I’m so pleased you really liked my fic, thanks for such a great review. I hope I answered all your questions :/ And that you liked the last instalment!

Maddie50: Thank you for reviewing, I hope you enjoyed the rest of it.

Very sincere thanks again to everyone who rated and reviewed and to everyone who just took the time to read it! =D This was a lot of fun and I’m so glad I could share it with you guys.

I will be adding to my other fic soon. Also I am now on LiveJournal: marieengland.livejournal.com please feel free to find me there I would love to hear from you.

Thanks again, and please let me know what you thought now it’s done, I will be checking reviews :D ~ Love Marie x