In the Darkness, a Farewell

"Pride can stand a thousand trials, the strong will never fall, but watching stars without you, my soul cries. Heaving heart is full of pain, Oh, oh, the aching."

–Kissing You

The warmth radiating from the fireplace was such a sharp contrast to the cold outside and the bitterness in her heart that Hermione couldn't help but be drawn to it. She watched as the golden hues reflected across his skin and disappeared into his raven hair. He was looking into her eyes longingly, like he did so often now.

"Stop," she said after a moment, her voice dangerously close to breaking.

"What?" His own voice was harsh and rough. It broke her heart at the same time that it excited her blood. Her stomach tightened and she swallowed thickly. Under different circumstances, in a different life, would they be able to do this forever? Would they be able to enjoy a life of love and pleasure in each other every day?

"Stop thinking what you're thinking."

"What do you think I'm thinking?" He looked down at his loosely clasped hands resting between his legs. She didn't answer, knowing that it wasn't necessary.

For the past two months, they had known that night would come. And for the past two months, Regulus Black had been terribly, irrevocably torn. There was a side of him that had been sold to the devil himself. That was the side that dominated before he met her. Before his life would be changed forever.

It was with reluctance that he'd fallen for her, although if he was honest, he'd known the minute he first saw her that she was a spectacular sort of person. She wasn't from his own time, but rather a woman of the future that had fallen into his possession when she was nearly killed by the Dark Lord. She was brought back to destroy Voldemort himself and when she taught Regulus of his horcruxes, he was determined to help her defeat him.

But with the sting of the dark mark still burning on his forearm, it proved much harder than they thought possible. Tonight would be the hardest night of his life; it would prove his strength … if he had any at all.

Hermione walked over to the man in agony before her. She took his hand in hers and kissed his wrist softly. He closed his eyes. She traced her fingers across the snake on his arm, knowing how it affected him, how the mere touch of her lips to his mark could start a raging fire within him. She touched her nose to the skull-like figure which trembled slightly now, and inhaled his masculine scent. She wanted it burned into her nostrils so that she'd never forget it, even if she was propelled trillions of miles away from earth into some kind of other world, she wanted to know his scent and remember his touch.

"Love," he groaned, sadness in his eyes. She smiled softly; she knew how he was struggling. He was fighting her, because he wanted her to stay.

Voldemort wanted her because of her intellect. He was sure she, along with Regulus, could be his greatest followers. He was sure they could help him take over the world. Tonight, he planned on initiating her into the Death Eaters. Regulus had begged her to accept, seeing as how she'd die if she didn't, but she wasn't sure she could sell her soul like that. They were here now, in a room only three halls away from the Dark Lord who was preparing a feast in their honor. He was completely happy to oblige them, to let them live together and love each other so long as they served him first. Everything seemed like it could be okay. Maybe not great, but okay.

Hermione couldn't do it though; she couldn't become an enemy of the people who would be the parents of her two best friends. She couldn't become a creature of the dark, no matter how much she wanted to live forever with Regulus. She also knew she couldn't run, since Regulus' dark mark would lead Voldemort to them in a second. It was all so terribly unfortunate. She had no one in this time period but Regulus, so she could find no haven with anyone else while they tried to think of a way to be together. And she had given up trying to go back to her own time. There was really no hope for them, there was really nothing for them in the future. Nothing but this night, and she planned to give him everything.

She continued her ministrations, touching her lips to his skin. She rose and straddled him so that her legs came over the arms of the chair he was sitting in. He placed his wide, strong hands on her hips possessively and hugged her tight to him, like he would never let her go. She needed to stop wishing that was the case.

He kissed her gently, sucking her bottom lip softly. She groaned and shifted on his lap, causing her leg to brush his erection. He growled deeply.

Their minds were so intertwined now that they both thought of the same thing; their first kiss.

Hermione grumbled, angry that she wasn't finding anything useful or anything that could possibly lead her to end Voldemort's life before he could kill Harry's parents.

Regulus leaned into the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, a frown gracing his features. Why did the witch have to be so pretty? She was bent over a large book, hair falling in ringlets around her face. Her cheeks were pink and she was chewing on her fingernails out of frustration. Her long legs were tucked underneath her, while her button-down t-shirt exposed her creamy flesh. Something stirred within him, something that had been dormant for a long time.

He wanted her. He needed her. His arousal was growing as he stared at the beautiful brown-eyed goddess before him. What would he do? Could he walk up to her, right now, and kiss her? Would she think him a fool? He was older than she, by eight years. Was that so big a difference that she couldn't be attracted to him?

She whimpered, bringing him from his thoughts. What happened? Was she okay? She did it again, eyes closed, brows slanted in confusion or anger he couldn't tell. That sound, which was so innocent and feminine, caused his groin to stir excitedly.

In three silent strides, he was in front of her. In two quick movements, he pulled her up by her shoulders and crushed her lips to his in a bruising kiss. Someone groaned, neither could tell if it was the other or not, only that it was a sound of utter need.

That thought, that memory which they shared at the same moment, heightened their desire. She reached down to fondle him through the fabric separating them. He closed his eyes and kissed down her neck, sucking the pulse point above her collarbone.

His hands caressed all parts of her skin as she squeezed his bulging erection. He pulled her dress over her head slowly and replaced the material with his hands. The roughness of his fingers drew goose bumps across her skin and his dark, thick hair was soft against her cheek. The contrast reminded her of the contrast within him; the darkness that loved the light, her light. A tear fell down her cheek and fell into his hair as he nuzzled her breast with his nose. How could she ever bear lose him?

She pushed the thought aside as he took her nipple into his mouth and nibbled on it lovingly. She moaned deeply and grinded against clothed cock. He groaned quietly.

The fire crackled in the background, it's burning matched the intensity of their passion in a way that completely terrified Hermione. Wouldn't it, too, be extinguished?

"Please," her voice was thick and throaty with desire. He shuddered; the desperation in his eyes matched the need in her. He unzipped his pants and pulled out the thick, long member. He stroked it twice, placing his other hand on her lower back to support her. She kissed his shoulders delicately as he entered her in a daze of desire. She gasped and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing them as close together as possible. This would be the last time they made love, the last time they would share this intimacy. She cried and rose up slowly, plunging back down as far as she could go.

She stayed there a minute, tears wetting her cheeks and chin, falling down his chest. He groaned and she moved again, slowly so that it would last. Their breathing became heavy. Their cries of pain and pleasure rose in the warm air. Her slow, steady movement on his cock was bringing them to the edge again and again, but they could never fully attain the release they were searching for.

She sighed desperately after what seemed like forever, increasing the pace. He kissed her, caressing her tongue gently with his. He brought his hands up to cup her face and he looked into her eyes deeply. She continued riding him as fast as she could. She rotated her hips and the guttural sound in the back of his throat suggested that he enjoyed that very much. She did it again and again, but still couldn't accomplish what she wanted so badly. She needed release so much, but the fire in her stomach seemed unquenchable. She wondered if he felt the same way, she knew he probably did.

"Regulus," she moaned, "feels…so… good…" He brought his thick finger down to her clit and rubbed circles in the sensitive flesh. She gasped and came violently, shuddering deeply on top of him. She milked him, bringing him along with her in the throes of ecstasy.

She groaned and laid her damp forehead against his also damp shoulder. They breathed in unison, their heartbeats were simultaneous. He wrapped his strong arms around her and hugged her as close as he could. They were one.

*~*~

"Regulus," Hermione whispered after they'd fallen asleep, "Regulus, are you awake?" He smiled at the childlike innocence in her voice. He nodded, caressing her cheek with his fingertips.

"Regulus," she kissed his chest softly, "I love you." He smiled sadly, if only she had any idea how much he loved her. If only she had any idea how much she was going to kill him tonight, when she would choose the light over the darkness, over him.

"Ahh," Regulus winced. Hermione looked up, worry on her face, a question in her eyes.

"What is it?" She breathed. He looked down at the mark on his forearm, which was becoming darker. It moved, slithered, on his arm and Hermione's throat closed up; Voldemort was summoning him. That meant he had to go. She shook her head.

"No," she kept shaking it, "no, not yet." He looked into her eyes and she saw all the agony there. He tightened his arms around her in protest to the Dark Lord's summoning. How could he walk out of there, when he might never see her again?

It burned still, it would until he was in the presence of his master. He groaned, a frown slanting his eyebrows. He looked like a man in the deepest kind of torment imaginable. He slowly rose, pulling her by the waist with him. Her eyes were wide. Her pleas were silent, but deafening. The look in her eyes was suffocating his heart.

He dressed himself silently and pulled her wrinkled dress over her head for her since he was fairly sure she couldn't move. He placed his hands on either side of her face, holding her gently. He smiled sadly and kissed her once, tenderly. She made a sound of protest as he stepped back from her and apparated away.

Hermione dropped down to the ground and wrapped her arms around her legs. She took a deep breath to calm her breaking heart. At least she was doing the right thing…

*~*~

Hermione straightened and raised her chin in defiance. She would never give him the benefit of seeing her weak. This evil, awful man who stood before her and asked her the question that would end her life would not see her cry.

He had calmed the crowd of excited party guests so that they could witness the initiation of their newest member, or so they thought. There were always huge parties at any initiation, with all the Death Eaters and lowly servants of Voldemort present. It was disgusting; they were all dressed up, drunk on wine and dark humor and they were ready and willing to let another into their foul midst. Hermione scowled at them all. Regulus was the only decent one among them and he was standing quietly in the corner, a grim expression on his handsome face. Her eyes softened a moment when they touched his, but her harsh demeanor didn't wane for long.

"My fellow friends," the Dark Lord said, an evil smirk on his white face, "Lord Voldemort welcomes you here today in the celebration of a new beginning for one fortunate young woman. Hermione Granger!" The room applauded. Hermione glared at him. Where did he even get the idea that she wanted to be a Death Eater? He hadn't ever actually asked her. He'd hinted to Regulus that it was his wish, but he'd never actually asked her.

"Would my dear friend, Regulus Black please come up to ease his lover into the process of becoming my follower?" Regulus emerged from the shadows and slowly, gracefully made his way up the staircase where Hermione and Voldemort were standing at the top. Hermione noticed his tensed jaw, and how he seemed to be fighting his every step.

Regulus looked up into the deep, brown eyes he'd come to love and tried to communicate his love to her. There was still a deep hope inside of him. It was that she would say yes, even if it meant going against her beliefs. He wanted her to say yes, for him.

"Do you," the Dark Lord turned to Hermione, "solemnly swear to uphold my wishes and commands above all else? Do you swear to answer to me before anyone else?" Regulus looked at the determination in her eyes and knew he was going to lose her forever. He closed his eyes, afraid that tears would fall and convey the depths of his feelings for her. She didn't say anything for a long moment and Regulus could tell the Dark Lord was growing impatient. No one ever kept him waiting.

She shook her head once, gasps flowing through the room full of people. "I cannot." She spoke it with such conviction, as if she'd always known, as if she'd never doubted for even a minute that she would always choose good over evil.

"How dare you!" Voldemort shouted with the most rage Hermione had ever seen before. She was briefly terrified of his fury. She was more terrified of leaving Regulus though. Nothing was more terrifying than that.

He rose his wand arm and opened his mouth, Hermione closed her eyes, waiting for death.

"No!" Regulus bellowed. Hermione opened her eyes to see Regulus' wand shoved at Voldemort threateningly. She wanted to whisper no, to tell him to stop so that he could go on living, but she couldn't form the words. She couldn't even speak to attempt to save her lover's life. She whimpered when the green light flashed; she knew what that meant.

She ran over, throwing herself onto his still warm body. "No," she whimpered, wishing they could be back in his library, discussing horcruxes or making love. She kissed his dead face and suddenly felt more alone than she ever had in the world.

She was furious. Anger surged through her at her lover's death. She screamed and whipped around to face the ugly, inhuman man before her.

She kept screaming like some lunatic she was sure. It was a good distraction though. For when she raised her wand and muttered Avada Kedavra, he never even saw it coming.