To Know Who I Am

Acknowledgements: A thousand thanks to my amazing beta ubiquirk who has helped to make this much better than it was when it started. Any remaining errors are entirely my fault.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize and I'm not making any money from this. If you think otherwise, there's this nice room in St. Mungo's for you.

Chapter 6

The next several weeks passed in relative peace, and eventually the Splinching of an unlucky sixth-year boy took over the rumor mill. Celia anxiously watched over her precious hybrid herbs, silently willing them to mature more quickly but knowing they really couldn’t. She was also worried that her charge hadn’t yet been identified. While she wanted the potion to be ready for her, it would not be the end of the world if it weren’t, and she would feel much more comfortable if she at least knew who the young witch was.

The days began to grow almost imperceptibly longer, though the weather seemed to grow much, much colder. Apparently February was still February, even at Hogwarts, and they were, after all, pretty far North. There was, at least, an insulating coat of snow on the ground. The first of it had fallen just in time for Christmas – Celia had no doubt that had been carefully planned – and it had just continued to accumulate ever since. There were well-worn paths to her greenhouses that were cleared amazingly quickly after each new layer had fallen, and the students seemed quite happy to be in class, even those she expected would drop Herbology as soon as they were able. It was understandable enough. The greenhouses were much warmer than the castle.

Almost before she realized it, even February was nearly half gone, and it was time for the Valentine’s Dance. Valentine’s Day itself fell on a Monday this year, so the dance was held on the preceding Saturday. This time, Celia felt much more confident getting ready. She Transfigured her gown to red with gold trim and smiled at the memory of her conversation with Severus about it at the last dance. It was too bad there weren’t four dances in the year so that she could rotate through all of the House colors. Or not. There just really wasn’t any way that Hufflepuff yellow and black wouldn’t come out looking like a bumblebee.

Checking herself in the mirror one last time, she added an extra holding charm to her hair, then carefully put on her cloak and exited her cottage, walking swiftly to the castle. On her way, she noted that even the snow off the paths appeared to be fairly well packed with a thin glaze of ice over it. She wondered if it had actually started to thaw a little today and then refrozen. It glinted prettily where it caught the lights from the castle.

When she entered the Great Hall, she felt a distinct sense of déjà vu: some of the wintery decorations from the Christmas Dance had made a return appearance, but instead of boughs of holly there were vines of roses that she had provided (not over-nitrogenated, thank you very much) with faeries perched along them here and there. She took a closer look at one, to see if it had been dressed as a Cupid, but fortunately not. No, the decorations were certainly breathtaking but also undeniably tasteful.

No giant lamé hearts, no heart-shaped confetti everywhere. Nothing like Cleveland Heights at all. Also? This chaperone business is way easier the second time.

That still did not stop her from losing her breath for a moment when Slytherin House arrived. When Severus stepped onto the dais, he scowled at her, presumably due to the colors she was wearing. She smirked in reply and, when he turned to face the students again, focused on breathing.

Just like at Christmas, Hagrid was the first to ask her to dance. This time, they’d practiced a bit, and it went much more smoothly. Surprisingly, Harry asked her for the next song.

“Don’t tell me, let me guess,” she teased. “It’s the colors.”

Harry laughed. “That and I was reminded I have a responsibility to show a good example to the students.” He punctuated this by stepping on her toe.

“Not a huge fan of the dancing, then,” she said sympathetically.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“No worries.”

A few bars later she was hoping it would be a very short song. She wasn’t sure if she was more embarrassed for herself or for him. There was plenty of embarrassment to go around.

After they parted, she remained at her chaperoning station watching the staff and students dance. She nabbed a couple of students who had tried to duck out of the Hall, but so far that was about the most excitement she’d had.

That’s okay. That’s good, even. Boring is good. Also good that it’s way too cold for necking or snogging or whatever you want to call it outside. Short night, uneventful patrol, it’ll all be good.

Quite a bit later, she was startled to hear some very familiar, haunting chords echo across the Great Hall. This must be the start of the kids’ music. Kind of a golden oldie, though, even if it is rock and roll. She looked with interest at the handful of young couples moving onto the floor, trying to discern who must have made this request.

“Something amusing?” asked Severus, a silky tone to his voice sending an odd shiver down her spine.

“I’m just trying to figure out who requested this. It’s a little unusual for a Valentine’s dance.”

“I see. Perhaps I should leave you to it and wait for another song to ask you to dance in that case.”

Celia turned and looked at him oddly. “Severus, do you have any idea how long this song is?”

“As a matter of fact, I do, though it is growing shorter as we speak.”

“There’s also the slight problem of me having no idea how to dance to it. At least,” she amended, “not in any kind of ballroom style.”

“I had thought, at Christmas, that you were reasonably competent at following a partner’s lead. However, if you do not feel up to the challenge …”

“Following a waltz is one thing,” she started.

“Surely, with your many … talents, you should be able to predict my steps with ease. That is, if you are as good as you think you are.” She raised her eyebrows at the implications of this. His eyes flashed with challenge and, it appeared, amusement, as he added, “Then again, things did not appear to go very well when you were dancing with Professor Potter earlier.”

“Fine, you’re on,” she said, taking his elbow. She couldn’t imagine why he was doing this, but if he gave her carte blanche like that, she certainly couldn’t resist.

He led her onto the dance floor just as the music picked up and quite deliberately looked her in the eye. She checked her own mental shields and wordlessly cast Legilimens a split second before he made his first move. To her relief, he began with a sort of rolling waltz that cycled through the four-beat measures before the music shifted to something a bit more complex, requiring steps to match. She began to relax. It was easy enough to follow even completely unknown steps when she could read his intentions a second or two in advance, but the concentration needed to look past his eyes and into his mind allowed her to ignore just how compelling she found those eyes.

But why is he doing this? If he were trying to get into my head, that would make loads more sense. He shouldn’t want me anywhere near his!

She caught a flicker of something at the edge of his mind and almost missed his next step. For a moment, she wondered what it had been, but then the music became almost frantic, pulling her full attention to where he, and therefore she, was going to step next. Several trickier combinations ensued, requiring her to break and resume eye contact, and she barely had time to wonder whether he was doing this on purpose.

Of course he is.

When the music slowed, violins trilling softly, he spoke again. “So, what theories were you developing about whomever requested this song?”

“Well,” she replied, “I didn’t get that far, but whoever it is, they’re into Led Zeppelin, but for some reason took a pass on ‘Stairway.’ And you’ve got to admit – ‘Kashmir’? Not so much what you think of when you cross-reference ‘Zeppelin’ and ‘Valentine’s Day.’”

The pace of the music picked up again, and the conversation was put on hold.

When the song ended and he led her from the dance floor, she asked, “Where in the world did you learn to dance like that?”

“It was a necessary skill in my former line of work,” he replied.

She gave him an incredulous look. “Um, right. I can believe that dancing in general may have been a necessary skill for schmoozing with the ritzier Death Eaters, but I’m not buying that Muggle music would have been high on their hit list.” Well, except maybe for Wagner.

He didn’t answer, so she pressed on with another question. “You’re the one who requested that song, aren’t you?”

He smirked. “It took you long enough to work that out. Apparently you are not as good as you think you are.”

“I didn’t go poking around for anything other than what you chose to broadcast at me,” she pointed out, feeling a bit defensive. Great Goddess, could anybody else have me practically apologizing for not invading their mind when handed an all-but-open invitation? “And anyway, I was good enough to keep up with you.”

“I suppose,” he allowed.

She rolled her eyes. “So, let me guess, your objective was, what, to show off this talent that has gone unneeded for several years? And so you chose me, despite the colors I’m wearing, because either I’m the only Legilimens among the female faculty, or at least I’m the only one likely to strike at the bait you presented.”

He smirked again as they arrived at the spot where she had been standing when he first approached her.

Of course. What did you think he was up to?

“Congratulations. I’m not sure whether the students are horrified or impressed, but it looks like several are going to need to see Poppy to have their jaws relocated.”

“Then it seems my work here is done.”

She shook her head as he gave her a small, mocking bow and turned to walk over to Minerva. On the other side of the room, she saw Harry scowling at him. Ah, that’d be the rest of the puzzle, then. Not just to show off but to show up Harry. Better still. She stopped herself from rolling her eyes again. Barely. As her gaze returned to Severus, she pointedly ignored the electric current that had been flowing between her shoulder blades and down her arms since somewhere in the middle of the song.

~ ~ ~

He had finished his patrol of the dungeons and issued more detentions than even he cared to supervise by the time he was ready to go check the Quidditch Pitch. Minerva was right, of course, that it was largely pointless in such weather. He had only caught one couple there in the winter in all his years as a teacher, but if it happened once it could happen again. Really, it should have been added to Celia’s patrol, as she covered the grounds in general and left the castle to the rest of the staff, but it was rather hard to delegate a task that Minerva saw as pointless.

As if his thoughts had conjured her, Celia came into view as he reached the Entrance Hall, swearing under her breath.

“Such language is really not appropriate for a teacher, Celia,” he said with a smirk.

“It’s not like there are any students around to hear me,” she retorted. “With any luck, those two I just delivered upstairs will be the last I run into tonight.”

“Ah, so that’s what you are doing indoors.”

She merely nodded in reply.

“If you are done with your patrol and are going back outside, would you care to accompany me in checking the Quidditch Pitch?” he asked.

She narrowed her eyes at him, and for a moment he thought she was going to decline. Then she shrugged and turned to walk toward the large doors.

“Sure, why not? It was my next stop anyway.”

He stared at her.

“Why?” he asked.

She stopped and turned to look at him as if he had asked an utterly stupid question. He found it most disconcerting.

“Probably the same reason you’re headed there: it might not be on the official patrols, but that’s all the more reason to think some kids might be there trying to get frostbite or worse.”

He allowed himself a moment of self-castigation for not simply delegating this to her in the first place. She had probably patrolled the pitch in December, as well.

At least it will be faster work with two of us.

He cast a Warming Charm on himself and followed her through the main doors, taking a well-worn path toward the pitch. Several times she looked as though she were about to speak but then did not. It was quite unusual that she had nothing to say really. Something of a relief.

The crescent moon had set several hours ago, and many of the castle’s lights were now darkened as most of its occupants slept. So when he chose a path that edged toward the Forbidden Forest and grew substantially darker, they had to light their wands.

Severus turned to her and was about to explain why he preferred this route to the pitch when she held up a hand for him to be quiet. Nothing. He began again, “Celia ...”

“Wait,” she hissed. “Something’s not right.”

They both looked around warily, Severus growing impatient. What was wrong with the chit, behaving as if she were afraid of the dark? He spoke again. “I’d hardly expect you to be so skittish, all things considered.”

She glared at him, but when he turned to resume their journey, she joined him.

Suddenly, a shape broke from the tree line and raced toward them across the snow. In a fluid movement, Celia pushed him behind her with her free arm, nearly knocking him over, then withdrew something from a pocket in her cloak. When the figure came in range of the glow from their wands, she hurled it at the intruder. It found its mark, and what had to have been a vampire disappeared in a billow of dust. She continued to scan the tree line and surrounding area. He put his back against hers, similarly searching for others. They did not often hunt in packs, it was true, but then they should not be able to get on the grounds at all.

After several minutes, she relaxed slightly. “I think that was it,” she said, “but stay alert anyway while I see if that one left any clues.” He nodded and continued to cover her back as she went to examine the vampire’s remains.

Once they reached the pile of dust on the snow, she brightened her wand-light and bent close. What in Merlin’s name is a witch doing carrying a stake? He looked over his shoulder briefly to see what she was examining. Glints of blue light reflected from the snow, but there was nothing to be seen besides the dust.

“Damn,” she murmured. “Couldn’t leave some clue what you were doing here, could you? Talisman to get you in, maybe?”

She stood and turned to face him. Not letting his guard down for a second, he glanced over at her before returning to his survey of the area. All of the clues finally fell into place.

“You’re the Slayer.”

“I’m one of them,” she corrected. “Look, I don’t trust that there aren’t more, and someone had to invite it in. That means someone could invite another into the castle. You need to get back to the school, and I need to patrol the grounds. Preferably a bit faster than we can do on foot. Accio two brooms!” she cast, pointing her wand toward the pitch and walking back toward the more solid path. A cracking noise could be heard as the brooms broke through the storage shed at the pitch and zoomed toward them.

“Check the Quidditch pitch first,” he said, attempting to regain some of his authority.

She just rolled her eyes at him, catching both brooms and tossing one to him.

“Get going,” she said. “I’ll feel better when y- … when we’re not on the ground.” She nearly mounted her broom, then apparently realized she was still wearing a long gown and cloak. Impatiently, she scanned her wand along its length, transfiguring it into a more practical turtleneck, trousers, and jacket, all black, then climbed aboard the broom.

“Too bad you did not simply restrain it,” he pointed out. “You can’t question a pile of dust.”

She nodded, a chagrined look flashing across her features. “I should have. Not my first instinct.” She kicked off somewhat unsteadily. “All right, let’s go.”

He kicked off as well and urged as much speed as he could out of the broom, sending a Patronus message ahead of him to Minerva as he rode.

~ ~ ~

By the time the sky began to lighten, she had been through the Quidditch Pitch three times and covered the rest of the grounds twice. The Forbidden Forest was the one area she felt the least confident about, but she had hesitated to enlist Hagrid’s aid there. He was strong and an excellent shot – but slow. If he was going to be hunting vampires in the Forest, she’d rather he did it by daylight and not alone. She expected he wouldn’t agree and decided not to mention that she had checked on him during her first sweep of the grounds to be sure he was sleeping safely.

It was a relief to get off the broom and back onto solid ground. There was no doubt it was faster and gave her a better range of vision, but it would never be her favorite mode of travel. At least she had stopped wobbling after the first hour or so. She set it against the wall of Hagrid’s hut and knocked at the door.

It took him awhile to answer and, when he did, he was bleary eyed and disheveled.

“Wha’ is it, Celia?” he asked. “It’s … five in the bleedin’ mornin’! An’ it’s Sunday!”

“There was a vampire attack,” she said simply. “It’s been dealt with, the grounds are clear, and the rest of the teachers are looking after the students in the castle. I need your expertise on the Forbidden Forest, and we need to go see the Headmistress.”

The half-giant was now completely awake and seemed to take all this in without missing a beat.

“When di’ this all happen?”

“About two.”

“An’ yer jes’ tellin’ me now?”

“I didn’t want another person on the grounds,” she improvised, realizing there was actually some truth to that. “Now there’s a little light, there’s less chance of confusion.”

“Hmph.”

“Besides,” she added, “I want your input, not your hunting skills just yet. That’ll be up to Minerva, and it’s high time I checked in with her.”

“Jes’ lemme grab my things then,” he said, turning back into the hut. He returned in a few moments, dressed and gripping his crossbow.

“You might want to grab your umbrella, too,” she advised. When he reached back inside the door to grab the pink umbrella that hid his wand, she continued, “I doubt we’ll run into any at this point, but if we do, and you’re in imminent danger, use the bow or Incendio. If you can, though, use Incarcerous. We need some answers, and unfortunately I dusted the one earlier.”

“Righ’ then, let’s go,” said Hagrid.

~ ~ ~

When they arrived, Celia was unsurprised to find the main doors locked and unresponsive to her attempts to open them. She was more surprised when Hagrid’s key also failed to work.

“McGonagall’ll know we’re here,” he said.

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than a silvery cat came through the door and ran straight to Hagrid. He reached down and petted the small Patronus, nodding as it dissolved.

“We’re to go ‘round to the North Entrance,” he declared. “Then go straigh’ t’ her office.”

Unfamiliar with the North Entrance, Celia followed him around the perimeter of the castle until they reached a small door, barely visible in the castle wall.

“Um, Hagrid,” she asked, “how are you going through there?”

He just winked at her as he inserted one of his many keys into the lock. The door instantly tripled in size and opened. Celia blinked in amazement as Hagrid bowed her through. She stepped into a dim but large corridor and lit her wand as Hagrid closed the door behind them.

“Does it shrink back?” she asked.

“O’ course,” he replied. “Now, blimey, it’s been awhile since I’ve come this way. I think once we get t’ the end o’ this corridor it’ll be a left. I think.” He looked her over in the dim light as if seeing her for the first time that day. “Yer goin’ in like tha’?”

She looked down and realized her “practical patrolling outfit” would probably raise a few eyebrows including Minerva’s. She scanned her wand along her body as she had done before and reversed the transfiguration, so that she was once again wearing her gown and cloak.

On second thought, best add a cleansing charm or two. No point stinking the place up.

“Tha’s better,” Hagrid said, turning to lead the way.

~ ~ ~

Severus and Minerva were in deep discussion when Celia and Hagrid arrived, but they stopped speaking as soon as the new arrivals entered. Celia had, somewhat surprisingly, changed her clothing back to what it had been earlier. Severus surmised that Hagrid must have found her more practical attire … embarrassing. It had been rather closely fitted.

Celia nodded to them both, but her attention was immediately drawn to the large map that now covered most of one wall in the Headmistress’ office. It was a map of Hogwarts covered in little colored dots that had names beneath them. Most were stationary and collected in the dormitories of the four Houses, but a few were moving along the hallways. Minerva noticed her interest.

“It’s an improved version of a map Harry owns,” she said. “This map shows everyone who is in the castle, including ghosts and vampires, if any. Ghosts are in blue. Vampires would show in red.”

Celia’s eyes opened wide. “That’s useful.”

“Unfortunately and unlike the original, it only works within the castle walls. Filius will be attempting to generate a similar map for the grounds.”

“Most of the grounds are easy enough to patrol by air,” Celia pointed out. “What would be really helpful would be a map like this for the Forbidden Forest. Also probably the most difficult to create.”

Not even the original map’s creators were foolish enough to do the necessary explorations to accomplish such a thing, Severus thought. Even Hagrid most likely does not know all of the Forest well enough to leave literally no stone or stump unturned.

“Indeed,” Minerva agreed. “I gather that you found nothing further?”

“No, I didn’t. The grounds and as much of the Forest as I could cover are clear of vampires, students, and suspects. All the students have been accounted for?”

“Yes.” Minerva took a breath. “As much as it pains me to ask, who were the two Gryffindors you found outdoors?”

“Mr. Helling and Miss Lowsley,” Celia replied. “I get that they’ll have to be questioned, since they were the last students known to be outside the castle, but I really doubt that if either of them had just invited a vampire onto the grounds, they’d have been looking for a romantic hideaway in Greenhouse Five.”

“You are probably correct, but we must be thorough.”

Celia nodded.

“Obviously this changes things quite a bit.”

Minerva’s ability to state the obvious has just reached new and previously unattained heights.

“Do you have any idea why this may have happened?” she continued.

“No, I don’t.” Celia shook her head. “While it’s true that vampires and demons will often seem to home in on a Slayer, there’s been exactly zero demonic activity in Hogsmeade up till now. All I’ve seen on my patrols there have been a few drunks. Having a vamp show now could mean that the new Slayer is close to being activated, but that would just draw them close, not allow them to enter the grounds without an invitation by someone who lives here. Everything you’ve said and I’ve read about the enchantments protecting these grounds is pretty clear about that: when it comes to vampires, the entire grounds fall under the same rules as a private home.”

“That is correct. So, then, our problem is who would have done such a thing?”

“My first guess would be an extremely naïve and adventure-seeking student. Problem is, issuing that invitation would have been the last thing they did.”

“Thank Merlin it wasn’t.”

Severus felt compelled to speak up. “Why would a vampire pass up an easy meal, whoever it was that invited them in, and then attack us?”

“It wouldn’t,” Celia agreed. “That was insanely stupid and demonstrably suicidal. I could believe that a vampire sensed me and/or the new Slayer and tricked someone into inviting it onto the grounds. I can’t believe that if it was smart enough to do that, it would then charge us – or, really, any adult at Hogwarts – across an expanse of snow rather than lure us into the Forest where it could attack from cover. I’ve been thinking about it while patrolling, and my best guess is that someone was pulling its strings a la Imperius, which leads to the obvious question of why.”

He spread his hands and lifted his shoulders. “Assassination, perhaps?” he said, in a snide tone.

“Not likely,” she replied. “Anyone competent enough to get it onto the grounds should have been competent enough to pull off a more convincing attempt. On either of us.”

“So, you think you were intended to kill it?” Minerva asked.

“Or someone was. I wasn’t supposed to be on that part of the grounds, after all.”

“Indeed. Severus, why did you ask Celia to accompany you on your usual futile search of the Quidditch pitch?”

Of course. Let’s worry about the fact that I have only found students snogging there once. Pass over the fact that if at least one of us had not been there, the vampire would have gone undetected until someone was killed.

“I had thought to split the task in half, Minerva,” he replied, in a tone that said this should be obvious. “Also, apparently Celia already intended to check the area, despite not being required to do so.”

“I see,” Minerva said, infuriatingly refusing to ask why that was.

Well, and why would she? From the sound of it, she’s been patrolling the entire grounds and Hogsmeade since she arrived, apparently with Minerva’s blessing.

“You were not, then, conducting further ‘research’ into her abilities?” the Headmistress continued.

He scowled darkly. “I gave you my word I would not,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. “And if I had been inclined to break it, I would never have done so in a manner that would endanger anyone in this school.”

“Minerva, Severus was as surprised as I was,” Celia said. “Actually, more surprised than I was since I’d heard its movements just before it charged us.” She closed her eyes and appeared to think for a moment. She opened her eyes and said, “Besides, I was between him and the vampire much of the time. If he had been holding it under the Imperius, I’d have felt the energy flow.”

Minerva’s lips were pressed tight, forming a thin line. “I’m sorry, Severus,” she said at last, “but if someone brought a vampire onto Hogwarts grounds, placed it under the Imperius curse, and had it attack Celia so that she would reveal her identity by killing it, then it had to be someone who at least suspected her.”

“We don’t know any of that,” Snape retorted. “It could simply have been an incredibly stupid vampire. And in case you have forgotten, there was that impressive display with the staircase a few weeks ago. It may not have been explained away as effectively as you thought.”

“Um, Professor McGonagall,” Hagrid said. “Beggin’ yer pardon, but – would it have to be someone who lived in the castle wha’ invited it in?”

“No,” she replied. “To invite it into the castle itself, they would have to live in it, but not for the grounds. What are you suggesting?”

“Well,” he said, “wha’ ’bout someone livin’ in the Forbidden Forest?”

Severus regarded him with interest. An excellent point.

“The centaurs?” she asked.

“I don’ think tha’s likely, but it’s at leas’ possible, innit?”

“Yes.” The Headmistress sank down into her chair and rested her head in her hands. “And that opens up a world of unpleasant possibilities that I cannot even begin to consider yet.”

“We all need sleep,” Celia said. “The sun’s not actually up yet, but so long as none have gotten into the castle, and you’ve got this map to warn you if any do, the students should be safe for now.” Now that she’d said the words, she was beginning to register just how tired she was, not that she expected to be able to sleep.

“Yes, you’re right. I’ll have the elves keep an eye on the map and sound the alarm if anything shows up. Hagrid, would you please go relieve Harry from his patrol?”

Hagrid nodded and left the office.

“The Main Entrance will remain locked for now. Severus, would you please show Celia to the South Entrance? That will bring you out close to your cottage, Celia, unless you would prefer to remain in the castle?”

“No, thank you, I’d rather go there. It’s safer than the castle, really. I’m the only one who can invite a vamp in there. Besides, I’ll need to Floo Giles and update him.”

“Of course. I’ve already informed the rest of the staff that there will be a meeting at eight-thirty to discuss what we will be telling the students at breakfast. I dismissed most of them to bed once Filius finished this map.”

It was now almost five-thirty. “A couple of hours sleep will do us all good, I think,” Celia said.

“This way, then,” said Severus, gesturing toward the office door.

~ ~ ~

The South Entrance was at the end of a corridor much like she’d seen at the North Entrance, but the door was entirely normal in size, and once they had passed through, it could not be seen at all from the outside. Celia was surprised that Severus had not simply turned around and gone to his own quarters once he’d opened the spelled lock for her, instead walking with her toward the greenhouses and her cottage. She decided to take advantage of the situation.

“So, what was the real reason you invited me to join you?” she asked.

He glared at her.

“I don’t think you had anything to do with that vamp,” she added, holding her hands up in mock-surrender. “It’s just that the reason you gave Minerva was an absolute lie.”

“I suppose I just wanted company,” he answered at last.

She looked at him. That was true as far as it went. She returned her gaze to their path. It’s not like that thought hadn’t crossed my mind before, she thought. Is that why he’s walking with me now? She didn’t quite want to ask that, so she just said, “I see.”

As they approached the cottage, she wondered about him walking back alone. He would probably be fine. He would probably be insulted if she suggested he use her Floo. He was a perfectly capable wizard who had survived a brutal war while pretending to be loyal to a lunatic. He could certainly handle any vampires that might still be prowling about in the pre-dawn twilight. How upset would he be if she suggested he take the Floo?

“I’m sure this will come up in the meeting,” he was saying, “but may I ask why, exactly, are you here?”

She sighed before answering. “What Minerva told you before was true. I’m here because of a student. We’re expecting one of the female students to be activated as a Slayer sometime soon.”

“And the story about the nightmares?”

“That’s often one of the first signs of a new Slayer. We’re prone to prescient dreams about all sorts of … interesting things as well as memories from other Slayers. If you don’t know what’s happening, it’s terrifying. Actually, it can be pretty terrifying even if you do.”

“I see.” He paused a moment, then continued. “Why are there more than one of you?”

“There are a couple hundred of us. I’ll give you the short version: a spell was cast several years ago to activate every potential Slayer. It is still in effect, and every potential Slayer still becomes active, usually when she hits puberty.”

“And yet you are also a witch.”

“There are nine of us who are. There’ve been a couple in the past, though the last one was in the 1500s.”

By now they had reached the cottage, and the conversation died as Celia once again tried to figure out how to make sure he returned the castle safely, preferably without insulting him. She turned to face him.

“Severus,” she began.

“Celia,” he started at the same time.

Both fell silent again.

“I’ll see you at the meeting, then,” she said at last, turning to open her door. As she did, her foot slipped on an icy patch that had formed overnight, and he caught her right arm to steady her. She turned back to him and found her hand was now gripping his shoulder, even as he was grasping her arm.

“Thanks,” she said softly. She really ought to remove her hand. She wasn’t going to fall now. But it felt glued in place, and that same electric current she had felt earlier as they danced was back – and stronger. It seemed to pulse back and forth between them along the bridge formed by their arms. He was not moving to release her, either.

“You are welcome,” he replied, equally softly, and her breath caught at the sound.

Slowly, the space between them shrank, and then he was lowering his face to hers and brushing her lips with his. Her hand released his shoulder and slid behind his neck as his arm slid around her shoulders. The kiss was soft, gentle, tentative at first. Then he pulled her closer and parted his lips, probing at hers with his tongue. After the briefest hesitation, she allowed her mouth to open and relaxed into his embrace as he explored her mouth thoroughly.

When they broke for breath, she realized they were still outside and could be seen if anyone looked out of the castle. She opened the door with her left hand and drew him inside.

This time, she initiated the kiss, drawing his face down to her with the hand that had never moved far from his shoulder and neck. She pressed into his mouth, learning the patterns of his crooked teeth, dancing with his tongue, and then pulling back to nip gently at his lips.

Oh, Goddess, it’s been so long, she thought, as his hands caressed her hair and back. This can’t be a good idea. She brushed his lank hair out of his face, less bothered by its slight oiliness than she might have expected. Vampires, staff meetings, and Hogwarts itself fled her mind entirely as she lost herself in their embrace. When one of his hands slipped under her cloak to her waist, then slid up to cup a breast, she gasped softly against his lips. Immediately he pulled away and took a step back, as if suddenly realizing what they had been doing.

“I should go,” he said, his gaze sharp and his expression unreadable.

That’s probably best, she thought. Maybe someday, but this is too soon, too fast. What she said, however, was, “Please don’t.”

He hesitated, and even as she thought again that it was just too sudden to be asking him to stay with her, she reached for his hand and grasped his fingers gently. He looked as though he was going to say something, then suddenly stepped toward her again, sliding both arms around her waist and lowering his face to hers.

She kissed him fiercely this time, hungrily, and he responded in kind. Freeing her mouth from his, she trailed kisses along his neck so that she could see to undo the complicated silver clasp of his cloak at his throat. She returned her lips to his as she removed the cloak and tossed it on a nearby chair before adding her own on top of it. His hands now wandered freely over her while hers traced the lines of his face and jaw, neck and chest. A small corner of her mind kept insisting this was probably a bad idea. She mentally slammed a door on it, but it continued a muffled running commentary with which she argued.

This is too sudden … I don’t care … He’ll turn from you. They always do. … No, he’s different …

They had moved through the small, darkened kitchen and into the sitting room and were approaching the door to her bedroom. For a moment, it seemed as though he sensed her inner struggle because he grabbed her wrists and raised them over her head, pressing her against the wall next to the door.

“Are you sure you want this?” he growled, his face inches from hers.

She leaned forward and reclaimed his lips as an answer while the inner voice continued. See? He’s giving you a chance to back out. Take it! It’ll hurt less now than tomorrow. … No, he has no reason to …

In a lightning fast movement, she broke his hold on her wrists, spun him around so that he was now the one against the wall, with his arms pinned behind him, and she pressed downward on his entrapped wrists so that he had to bend his knees, putting his eyes just below level with hers.

“Are you?” she asked.

For a long moment, he said nothing, did nothing. She swallowed. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. See, they never want you, not all of you. She released his wrists and took a step back.

Slowly, he straightened his legs, his eyes never leaving her face. She started to take another step back, and he reached out to her, took a step toward her, and cradled her face in his hands, kissing her first lightly, then more deeply. She reached around him to open the door to her room.

~ ~ ~

They moved into the bedroom and closed the door, never breaking their increasingly fierce kiss. The candles in the wall sconces lit, but dimly. He barely noticed that she had not used her wand, as her hands were busy, frantically unlacing his robes and Banishing them to the chair by her window even as she began to unbutton his frock coat and the shirt he wore underneath. The fastenings on her gown frustrated him, and finally he tore at them and allowed the gown to slide down and pool around her feet.

She leaned into him, pinning him against the wall once again. He relished the sensation of her breasts pressing against him, the way she was devouring his mouth, the feel of her hair as he tangled his fingers in it. As she slid his shirt and coat off his shoulders, he removed his hands from her briefly, allowing her to Banish them to join his robes. He stiffened as she traced the scars on his chest. A small groan escaped him as she passed her thumbs over his nipples. He felt her fingertips on his shoulder, exploring the last souvenir Lucius had left him. Was she obsessed with scars? It was no worse than many of the others, a silvered black starburst on his left shoulder. At least she did not appear repulsed, though her own skin was surprisingly smooth. He traced a finger along a pale pink line on her arm. Not completely unmarked, then. Her lips brushed over the curse scar on his shoulder before trailing kisses along his collarbone and back to reclaim his mouth, encircling him in her arms.

He allowed her to pull him toward the bed, then watched as she bent to fish her wand out of her gown and place it on the nightstand before they could step on it. The sight of her wand reminded him of something. He pulled back a few inches and asked, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Obviously perplexed, she replied, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Contraceptive Charm?” he pressed.

“Oh.” She smiled. “No need, I take a monthly potion.”

He was surprised but accepted her reply. He removed his wand from his trouser pocket and laid it beside hers.

She unbuckled his belt and backed toward the bed until she had removed it, then Banished it and her gown to join the rest of his clothes. Leaning against the heavily-laden chair, he quickly removed his trousers, boots, and socks as she sat down on the edge of the bed and removed her own delicate-looking ankle boots. Her eyes raked over him, sending a thrill through him that sharpened the ache in his groin. A range of emotions played across her face, finally settling back into lust. She shifted, tucked her legs under her briefly, and knelt up on the bed.

In two strides he was upon her, devouring her mouth and then ducking his head to taste and suckle her breasts. Her fingers dug into his arse as he grazed a nipple with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. She leaned back onto the bed, pulling him with her until he lay over her and the only things stopping him from plunging into her were his pants and her knickers. She moaned as he continued to play with her breasts and buried her fingers in his hair, clearly intent upon keeping him right where he was. He stopped and pulled back to look up at her, and she released her hold immediately. Then she grinned at him wickedly, and suddenly he was the one on his back.

She stroked, kissed, and suckled his nipples and feathered her fingers through the sparse hair of his chest but soon became as distracted as he was by the way his erection was pressing into her belly. She slid a hand between them and caressed him gently through the soft fabric that covered him, taking his breath away, then climbed off him and quickly removed his pants. Feather-light, her fingers caressed his balls and stroked slowly up along his length, making him wild with need. Then he felt her spread the bead of moisture around the tip of his cock with her thumb, almost ending things before they had truly started. He pulled her hand away and drew her face up to his, kissing her thoroughly before rolling her back onto her back.

He tore her knickers and stockings off and cast them onto the floor, then traced his hands up her thighs, forcing himself to slow down. When he nudged her legs apart, she complied eagerly and gasped softly into his mouth when his fingers begin to explore her more intimately. She closed her eyes as he traced her folds, circling but never quite touching her clit, dipping into her and then spreading her moisture over her. He brought his hand up to anoint one of her nipples, then licked the sweet fluid from it. The musky scent threatened to overwhelm him and suddenly she was wrapping her legs around him, lifting her hips to meet him as he pressed into her, nearly undone by the tightness of her body.

His eyes flew open. “You can’t be …”

“No,” she cut him off, “just … out of practice.”

He stayed utterly still for a moment, and she pulled his face back down to hers, pressing her lips to his in a searing kiss. Gradually, he felt her walls relax slightly around him. When he began to move again, she released his mouth to cry out in pleasure. He barely managed to remove one hand from her hip so that he could press against her clit as he thrust into her again and again.

She gasped and dug her short nails into his back, and the pain helped him hold back just a bit as he felt pleasure, pressure, and a strange energy building in him. Sooner than he would have expected, she came undone, calling out his name in three long syllables, and he felt her climax like a physical wave crashing over him as her walls clamped down on him and she fastened her mouth to his shoulder, sucking fiercely at it.

His thrusts became more erratic as her climax subsided. Her tongue darted out to soothe the sore spot on his shoulder, then her head fell back onto the bed. His back arched sharply, and he growled wordlessly as his orgasm overtook him, and he felt magic explode from him as he exploded inside her.

He collapsed onto her, boneless with satiation. After a few moments, he lifted his head and claimed her mouth yet again with a kiss utterly different than any other they had shared so far, though how he could not say. Slowly, he slipped out of her and rolled them both onto their sides. She whimpered at the loss of contact, and he chuckled softly against her lips, pleased by her dismay.

“You seem very pleased with yourself,” she said. He smirked at her, and she added, “Well, you should be,” and then kissed him again.

Swimming in the softness of her kiss, he slowly became aware once again of the slight chill of February air leaking into the room and defeating her Warming Charm and fire. The events leading up to this very pleasant moment began to clamor for his attention, and he groaned as he remembered they had very little time before they had to return to Minerva’s office. Her answering hum vibrated against his lips and sent an aftershock of pleasure through him.

After a few moments, he pulled back and said, “We should set an alarm.”

She nodded with obvious reluctance, sighed, and Summoned her Muggle alarm clock. He could see that it read nearly six-thirty. She set it for quarter to eight and Banished it to the nightstand, still not bothering to retrieve her wand from the table behind him.

When she turned back to him, he kissed her again, then surprised himself by gathering her to him, tucking her head under his chin, and stretching a leg across her hip and hooking it behind her. Nuzzling his neck, she seemed to drift off.

Fast approaching sleep himself, he wondered briefly if this had been a mistake. He could not bring himself to regret it even if it were, at least not yet. He fingered a lock of her hair. Briefly, he considered conjuring something to cover them as it seemed too much trouble to get under the duvet, but the strange energy he felt still swirling in the room lulled him to sleep before he could muster the will to do so.

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A/N: The giant, color-coded Marauder’s Map is a variation on the one used in selened’s Love and Parenthood and is borrowed with permission.