Whispers in the Wind

When he left the castle the night before the Golden Trio set foot in Hogsmeade it was to her arms that he fled. He needed refuge, solace, time. They were things he knew he was unlikely to get but that he needed to try to find.

She was right where he knew she would be – deep in the forest, sitting beside the tree they had shared their first kiss under. At the sound of leaves crunching underfoot she looked up, saw him. They locked gazes and he stopped moving, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his cloak. Her gaze was magnetizing and frightening, and he was almost tempted to just turn and go back the way he had come. But he wasn't the type of person to do that, and she wasn't the type to let him. He had learned that the hard way last year.

There was tension in the air, a result of the war and of the eminent battle that was going to be erupting back at the castle. Soon, it would be too late for anything. Soon, lives would be changed further than they had already been changed in this war. It wasn't fair to either side, but it was the way things had to be.

And he wasn't sure he was totally okay with that.

He looked away from her, down at the ground, pretending to look at a leaf he overturned. She got up in one swift motion and came to stand in front of him. Her hands flashed out to grab his wrists and he withdrew his hands from the cloak so they could hold each other. Their fingers locked without second thought, as if it were natural as breathing. Her right thumb stroked over a scar on his left hand, a reminder of opening a wine bottle one night. He looked up at her with a half-smile.

"Something's bothering you." She continued to stroke his skin as she murmured the words.

"I could say the same of you."

His quip earned him a slight smile. "You could, but you didn't." She shifted her weight backwards, met his gaze once again. "What's wrong?"

This time he didn't bother trying to avoid her eyes. "Nothing."

She scoffed. "Liar."

He frowned. "The teapot calls the kettle black."

Her eyes flashed. "Dammit, Severus. I only meant to try to help."

And he sighed, knowing she was right. Knowing that he was taking his disgust with the world out on her, the person who deserved it least. He pulled her forward to give her a gentle kiss, and sighed again, more softly this time. "I know. I apologize."

She closed her eyes and nodded, but didn't speak again.

"You truly want to know?" He waited until she nodded once more. "The war is coming to a head, as you must very well know. The Dark Lord and Potter cannot avoid each other for much longer."

She gave him a look of slight puzzlement. "But that's a good thing. Everything will be settled; we won't have to wonder how much longer we can hope to live." And then the realization dawned on her face. "No. You can't even think that!" Her tone turned to one of slight panic.

"I have no choice." His own tone was flat, but she could see in his eyes that he hated telling her this.

"But you promised! You promised!"

"I promised that I will do what I can to stay alive. But people die in wars, Cissa…"

"What makes you think that you will?" Tremors.

"There have been comments. Hints, if you will."

"He could be meaning it of anyone.."

"He isn't."

The witch squeezed her eyes shut. The tears weren't to be suppressed, regardless; they slipped down her cheeks, shone against her skin. Severus pulled her against his chest and in his embrace her body was a leaf trembling in the wind. He tightened his hold, crushing her to him. When she calmed, he tilted her chin up and kissed her softly, stroked her cheek.

She leaned into his touch as she kissed him back, kept her eyes closed for a few moments longer. The instant they flew open she met his gaze and something in the air crackled. It was as if they were on one wavelength as a sense of urgency crept into their kiss, and each felt an overpowering need to rid themselves of all barriers between the other.

Neither bothered taking their time, instead just got their clothing off as soon as possible. Lips moving down her jaw, Snape slid his left hand down Narcissa's right side and came to rest on her thigh. There her holster for her wand was fastened, and there his hand teased. He drew her wand first, transferred it to his right hand, behind her. And then his fingers danced along the tender skin on the inside of her thigh, playing. She squirmed, wanting his touch higher. He let out a soft chuckle and unfastened the holster, tossed it onto her clothes.

As he gave in he flicked her wand, felt the ebon respond to him almost as naturally as his own did. A pile of leaves rose into the air and began to knit themselves together. When the mass settled down a blanket lay on the ground, and Severus settled the wand with the rest of their belongings. He drew his hand away from her warmth and gently lowered her to the ground, clenching his teeth to keep in a hiss as he pressed against her tighter.

"Why do you have to make me want you so bad, witch?"

She just winked and linked her arms around his neck, then rolled them over. He watched her raise her hips and then she was settling herself over his cock. She bent forward to kiss him and then started moving her hips slowly. The pace didn't last long, nor did the position. Severus rolled them over again so that he was above Cissa and sped up some. And within a matter of seconds his lover was begging for him to be both harder and faster. He complied eagerly, and all too soon felt her seizing up around him. He pushed further in the middle of her orgasm, made her cry out his name. She dug her nails into his back and raked down, pulling blood.

His balls contracted with his hardest thrust and he emptied himself into her, biting down on her shoulder as he did so. When he felt like he could move again he rolled over onto his side and felt her curl into him. Lazily he drew designs on her pale, slick skin, marveling at the wonder that she was. "You should return to the Manor soon. Your absence has probably already been noticed." His tone showed his dissatisfaction with that.

"Even so, I don't want to go." She curled into him more.

"I would rather you stay, but the punishment for leaving should our master come by is one I would rather you not suffer." He toyed with her hair, twining blonde around his fingers. It was so soft…

"I would take it gladly, if it meant more time for us now." She looked over her shoulder at him.

He sighed. "Your son wouldn't appreciate it."

She stiffened. "He… Something would be done to him?"

"You know as well as I do that the Dark Lord will use any means he can to get what he wants, and Draco is – to him – no more than a pawn by which to operate you. So go. Keep the boy safe." He got to his feet and held his hand out to her. She took it and then stood, watching him dress. He looked over, caught her. "Your clothes…"

She smiled slightly and turned to them, then felt him watching her. As she slipped on her shoes she gave him a mocking look. "Your clothes…" He scowled briefly, finished adjusting his cravat and buttons.

He held out a hand to her and she took it, let him pull her flush against him. He tangled a hand in her hair and bent his head to crush her lips in a kiss more passionate than any he had ever given her. After a few moments they had to breathe, and then he sought her again. The second time he began intensely and then shifted gentle and sweet.

When he pulled back, she smiled softly. Her eyes showed nothing but warmth, but he could see the smile waver slightly. 'Every heart has a pain,' he thought. 'Only the way of expressing it is different. Fools hide it in eyes, while the brilliant hide it in their smile.' And that made him a fool.

"Severus?" Her voice was so very quiet. "What am I going to do if you…are killed?"

He sucked in a breath and looked away for a moment. "Remember."

[-][-][-]

When she picked up the Daily Prophet on May third, she had no intention of going through the obituaries. It was a habit, one she couldn't break, that had formed during the first war. She always wanted to know who died. Now, she didn't have to guess. She already knew, and she didn't want to read. But when she saw his picture, she couldn't tear herself away.

SEVERUS TOBIAS SNAPE, a halfblood wizard whose ancestry included the Prince line, died in Hogsmeade`s Shrieking Shack shortly before dawn on the first of May, 1998, at the age of thirty-eight.

The son of Tobias and Eileen Snape, he was an only child.

He attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry from 1971 - 1978, where he was Sorted into Slytherin. Quickly, he became friends with a group who made it no secret that they planned to become followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Sources tell the Prophet that Snape was very much interested in the Dark Arts, and that he "knew more curses when he arrived at school than half the kids in the seventh year."

When he completed his schooling, Snape joined the Death Eaters. It is not known to what extent he participated in their activities. After the tragic deaths of Lily and James Potter, Snape took up the post as Potions Master (which he held from 1980 to 1996). It is believed that he renounced the ways of the Death Eaters, seeing as the late Albus Dumbledore accepted him and vouched for Snape`s loyalty when fellow Death Eater Igor Karkaroff denounced him at trial.

With the return of You-Know-Who, he took up a position as a supposed spy for the Order of the Phoenix. It is not known whose orders he was acting upon. Sources from within the Order are quoted as saying: "Snape was a survivor. I really don`t know anything about him other than what I observed when he reported to us, and from the words from students about his teaching, but he did what he had to do. He found a way to thrive no matter what, until the very end."

In 1996, Snape was made professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Toward the end of the second term, Snape killed the Headmaster and fled the school. According to sources, Snape participated in an attack during the summer holidays that resulted in George Weasley`s ear being cursed off.

In 1997, he was made Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Witnesses say that You-Know-Who himself was responsible for the murder. He reportedly set his snake upon Snape, who died of exsanguination.

He is survived by none.

Private memorial and funeral services will occur on the fifth of May, at 10 am and 11 am, respectively.

As tears began to streak down her cheeks for the fourth time that morning (and all had been over this man), all she did was remember. She remembered how he had come to the Dark Lord after the Triwizard Tournament, knowing he could very well be killed. How he had agreed to spy for the Dark Lord in the Order of the Phoenix. How he hadn't tried to start a relationship with her when Lucius went to Azkaban after the Ministry fiasco, but how he had instead been surprised when she came on to him. How he had taken an Unforgivable Vow to help and to protect Draco, just because it was something that she asked him to do.

She remember how he had killed Dumbledore, and then come back to Malfoy Manor in a state that she had never seen him in before, how he had been so distraught after talking to Voldemort. How he hadn't been thrilled about being headmaster, and leaving her. How they had snuck to the Forbidden Forest to celebrate Samhain together. How he had fooled everyone, played his role as a double agent perfectly.

She remembered what he tasted like, how he liked to read. She remembered his skill with spells and developing potions.

She remembered what his voice sounded like when he was angry, upset, content, happy. She remembered his smile and what it was like to actually hear him laugh.

She remembered what it was like when she saw him and felt her pulse quicken, how he could drive her wild, and how it must have pained him to tell her that he wasn't going to see her again.

She knew what it was like to lose and she remembered what it was like to love.

A/N: This piece was written for the lola's "Last Kiss Competition #2." :) And it is also a gift to my great friend, mrs. milfoy! Reviews are much appreciated, as usual. I love feedback!