Authors Note: - I don't own Potterverse; it all belongs to JK Rowling and others too numerous to mention. I make no money, nor is any required.
He'd been on the run for many years. His hair was long, with grey highlights. His face showed his age; the lines were deeper, although the skin was not as sallow as it once had been.
She had first detected his brand of magic six months ago. She should really have alerted a superior. However, she was in awe of his tenacity; it had been six years since Riddle had been felled. Six years since she had watched him 'die' on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. Six long years she had been searching for him, hoping that she would find him before any of the other Aurors did. He had fooled the Aurors on many occasions, but was becoming a little reckless covering his tracks.
He was becoming complacent, and he knew it. He had caught snippets of news from the wizarding world over the years. Potter was lauded as the saviour - he remembered how the bile rose as he read all the reports by the simpering idiots who fell to their knees to worship the boy. He had felt violated when Potter shared his memories with the Wizengamot. He felt sick when he realised he had surrendered more memories than he thought. He never wanted Potter to know that Lily' death had been the reason he turned to the Light. He felt a degree of amusement when he read there had been a trial in his absence; that he had been acquitted of the murder of Dumbledore, and that he had been awarded the Order of Merlin First Class. He had shouted to the sky, "What do you think of that Old Man? They've rewarded me for my part in the boy's success. I bet that wasn't part of your plan, was it?"
She longed to find him; to whisk him away. She didn't think he would wish to be lauded, and paraded about as she, Harry and Ron had been. She was tired of the unending celebrations. She needed to get away, disappear, and return to being the bookworm. She had saved diligently, living on a meagre portion of her Auror salary. She had found a perfect little cottage; not one with roses around the door, he wouldn't stand for that, but one isolated from immediate conurbation yet not so isolated that she would have to travel far for provisions.
He dreamt of her some nights. Not the girl with the beautiful smile and the lustrous red hair. No, the memory of Lily had diminished over the years. No, he dreamt of the bushy haired know-it-all. She had sought his help with the Horcruxes. She knew that Dumbledore had secreted the book that Riddle had originally read in his own library, deep in the dungeons, in a vain attempt to thwart Riddle's plans.
He longed to caress those curves, taste those lips of hers. He had seen the odd picture of her with the youngest Weasley and Potter over the years. He knew she'd gone back to school and surpassed his NEWT score, of course she would. He had seen the picture of her at Potter's wedding and Weasley's wedding to the Brown chit. He wondered why she had never married.
She was getting closer to him, she could feel him. She was only a couple of days behind him now. She looked at her map, looked at her notes. She knew he was getting by collecting rare potions ingredients and selling them at local apothecaries for a slightly lower price than the main dealers. Checking the date once more, she wondered if he would be there. She was aware that the Moonbeam Flower was due to bloom within days, deep within the Amazonian rain forest. No one else had discovered how he was managing to survive: she had started to cover his tracks once she had realised he was becoming careless.
He had felt her drawing closer over the preceding six months. A growing attraction, she had slowly replaced Lily in his dreams, almost as thought she was calling out to him. He wondered if she was feeling the attraction, if she was being drawn irresistibly to him too. He had read about soul mates being drawn to one another, but like most vague sciences he had discarded the idea to the same pile as Divination.
She found him three days later. He was, as she had expected, at the site of the flowers next appearance, deep in the rain forest. She hid behind a rocky outcropping at one end of a lake. At the other end she could clearly see him as he stood beneath a waterfall, washing his hair and upper torso. Her heart began to pound within her chest.
He was relieved to have found the waterfall. It had been so long since he had felt water pound against his bare skin. He didn't mind that the water was freezing, it was heaven.
She smiled to herself as she watched him, then sat and removed her boots. As she stepped into the shallows of the lake, she let out a gasp. The water was freezing! Focusing her mind, she muttered a spell and immediately felt the water surrounding her exposed ankles warm slightly. Taking care not to slip, she slowly skirted around the lake using the shadows to hide her presence. She halted for a moment and looked over to where he stood. She watched as he dived under the water. She cursed.
He had felt her presence, and smiled to himself. He was tired of running. He longed to settle; to no longer have to worry about covering his tracks, to have her accept him for who he was, scars and all. They didn't have to live in the wizarding world if she didn't wish to. He surveyed the lake for any sign of where she was. Smirking to himself, he caught a glimpse of her frizzy hair to the left of where he stood. He dived under the surface of the water and glided to her.
When he surfaced, his long hair clung to his face; treading water, he flicked it back and turned to face her.
"Come here," he held his arms open to her.
"I can't swim," she muttered as she slowly shook her head.
Swimming a little closer, he rolled onto his back. "You can't swim, I can't believe that. I used to swim in the lake at Hogwarts to relax."
She tried to picture him, swimming in the lake, and failed. "Mum tried to teach me to swim when I was younger, but I was terrified."
He chuckled before turning and swimming once more towards the waterfall. As he reached it, his shoulders rose up out of the water and he stood looking directly at the fall of water. He raised a hand, which disappeared, and then he too disappeared.
Overcome with curiosity, she made her way around the rest of the lake. What had he found behind the waterfall? As she drew closer to the waterfall the water steadily grew deeper until she was waist deep.
She slowly ran her hand through the falling water. She gasped as the water flowed down her arm, over her chest. Her nipples hardened as the cold water soaked her shirt. Bracing herself, she passed through the curtain of water.
Beyond the waterfall she found a ledge at shoulder height. He was sitting with his back against the wall. His long legs crossed before him. His lips quirked into a half smile as he looked at her. She hoisted herself up onto the ledge to join him. Slowly she turned to face the fall of water.
"It's quite private in here," he shouted above the noise of the falling water. She smiled as she sat down next to him.
"It's beautiful."
"Yes, just like you."
His fingers leisurely wrapped around hers and she sighed.
"You're freezing," she muttered.
Slowly he lifted her hand and surrounded it with both of his own sending a warm shiver down her spine. She looked at him, smiling at the stubble that adorned his face. She noted how his wet clothes clung to his body leaving little to the imagination.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" He muttered, slowly lifting one eyebrow as he cocked his head slightly.
She shrugged slightly. He laughed, and then his gaze fell from hers as he slowly appraised her body. She felt herself blush as she realised how her own clothes were clung to her. She tried to cover her chest with her arms, but his hands tightened around her as he pulled her towards him.
All rational thought evaded her. She focused on more important matters: the thought of bare skin against skin, the rhythmical sound of his breath, arousal flaring in her body like never before, and how safe she felt, wrapped in his arms.
She felt his arms relax as she turned to face him. Her breath caught slightly as she witnessed the barely concealed desire in his dark eyes. She gently brushed her lips against his, moaning as his stubble grazed her delicate skin.
His hands wound in her hair pulling her in for a deeper, more passionate kiss, teeth nibbled lips, tongues fought for dominance. He pulled away slightly, gently unwinding a hand to gently brush aside a portion of her damp hair which clung to the side of her neck.
"You, my dear, are a goddess," he whispered before nipping the outer shell of her ear. "Tell me, what did Slughorn teach you about the Moonbeam flower during your sixth year?"
She whimpered as he moved slightly away from her. "The Moonbeam flower is a native of the rainforest of South America." She recited. "It has a delicate blue flower, and its scent is sweet and intoxicating. This is one of the reasons it is highly prized by Potion masters as it forms a basis for lust potions more subtle than Amortentia. It blooms during the two equinoxes, and its potency can be improved by... Oh gods... their potency is increased by sex magic!"
"Well remembered. So, tell me, do you still possess that unflinching Gryffindor bravado?" His hands moved to cup both of her breasts, his thumbs glided over her pert nipples.
"Don't stop."
"Don't stop what, this?" his thumb glided across her left nipple. "Or, is it my voice that is driving you wild?"
"Don't stop anything," she groaned as his hip rubbed against hers. "Oh, Merlin, that feels so good."
"As delightful as this is, we should go harvest the flowers." He dropped his hands abruptly.
"What?" She spluttered. "You get me all worked up, then..."
"Shush my dear," he soothed. "All in good time, we have rare and expensive flowers to find."
She grumbled as they descended from the ledge and once more passed through the cold, heavy water that concealed the cave. He took her hand and led her through the trees to a small clearing not more than fifty paces from the waterfall. The moon hung high in the sky. The trees cast dappled shadow across the small clearing.
She gasped as the clearing sprang to life. Wherever the bright moonbeams landed, small green shoots began to emerge from the light drenched earth. He chuckled lightly as she leaned against him.
He was mesmerised by her. She had filled out since the end of the war. She was most definitely a young woman now, with luscious curves begging to be kissed and explored. Her lips were a deep red, swollen and bruised from the kisses they had shared, her eyes sparkled and her scent bewitched him.
She turned from watching the clearing to face him, with a smile on her luscious lips. Gently she trailed her fingers down the front of his body, stopping at his barely clothed nipples to tweak them gently. She moved lower still appreciating his toned body. She sucked her lower lip, suddenly unsure. His hips bucked forward as a small smile played across his lips. Taking a deep breath, she trailed her fingers lower, grazing against his hardened erection.
"Merlin woman," he whispered.
Once more he pushed the damp hair away from her neck; he gently nibbled the juncture of neck and shoulder. His talented fingers eased open the buttons on the front of her shirt; gently he pulled the shirt from her trousers. Smirking he took in the sight of the green bra she wore. His fingers made short work of unclasping her bra, and with a smile on his lips he slipped it off her shoulders, his fingers gently trailing down her arms sending shockwaves of desire through her.
"Beautiful," he murmured in appreciation.
She blushed, previous lovers and rarely complimented her. Desire wound tighter within her belly; his words had a direct affect upon her quim. Rolling her hips against his, she brushed against his erection.
His tongue slowly caressed her nipple, alternating with nibbles and suckling. Hands swept up and down her sides creating sensations none of her previous lovers had provoked.
"I think it's time we removed all barriers," he whispered.
Eager fingers fought to remove clothing. She ripped the shirt from his body, trailing her fingers over his firm, solid chest covered by a whisper of dark hair. Her fingers moved lower, finding the placket of his trousers. Divesting him of his trousers, she groaned in appreciation of the realisation that he wore no underwear.
Wordlessly he vanquished her remaining clothing. He gently lowered her to the ground. His tongue returned to her pert nipple, and he suckled once more on her breast. His hands once more caressed her sides until they brushed against her hips.
She bit her bottom lip as a single finger slipped inside her and his thumb strummed her clit. Her head fell backwards, revelling in the building sensation between her tighs. Arching her back, she pushed her body down on his finger, suddenly needing more. All thought left her as her quim tightened around his finger.
She opened her eyes, unaware of exactly when they had closed. He was once more level with her, licking the delicate skin of her neck. He press against her entrance, lightly nibbling her ear lobe, and pushed against her. She groaned in appreciation as she was lost to the sensation of him.
He drew back slightly, his mouth stifling her disapproving groan. His thumb found her clit again and flicked it. The jolt distracted her momentarily as he moved deeper burying himself within her. His kisses deepened and the continued strumming befuddled her mind until she held him completely.
His eyes took in her whole body, drinking in her nakedness like a man deprived of water. Seeing only desire in her eyes he slowly withdrew, and then pushed against her with equally slow movement until his groin met hers once more. His tongue flicked at her other nipple as he continued to move slowly within her.
With a moan he buried himself completely within her tight quim, and rolled them over, she straddled his hips. Placing his hands upon her he lifted her, she pushed back against him, rocking instinctively.
Neither was aware of the magic which built around them. Slowly at first, matching their movements, tiny tendrils of energy and light began to grow, winding around one other. Silver wound around red, whilst green around gold. The magic expanded with each movement, drifting over the clearing, raining upon the ground below.
Her breathing became laboured as she rocked against his erection. Her head fell backwards, her mind focused on nothing but the feel of him sheathed within her. She was aware of nothing but the sensations which built between her thighs.
He tightened his hold on her hips, as he started to thrust in and out of her with a feral need. She cried out as her orgasm exploded, waves rippled through her as she melted. Every muscle in her body seemed to give in to the sensations that swept through her, supported only by his hold. He quickened the pace once more as his own yearning for release built. He lost himself to the sensations coursing through his body as he dissolved with his own completion.
The Moonbeam flowers emerged as the tendrils of magic sparked and shimmered brilliantly with the orgasmic release of the lovers in the glade.
As their breathing slowly calmed, the lovers gazed at one another in their bliss. His dark penetrating eyes fixed her clear amber ones.
"Stay with me?" she murmured.
"Always," he replied, holding her to him. He would never let her go.
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Many thanks to my terrific beta, Scoffy. Who worked her magic with my appalling grammar, and held my hand when the plot bunny was less than helpful.