Why?

The word swirled memories into the question; how the hell had she found herself in the situation?

And why?

The corner of the library was always reserved for those who skipped the clangor of the Great Hall and sought solace in the thousands of tombs that lined the dusty shelves. Various house members basked in the late afternoon glow, the lake reflecting liquid gold across the late summer grass and halls of the ancient castle. It was the curious part of dusk, when light leaves its lingering warmth on the Scottish hills and before the soft curtain of night descends. The in-between time where light slowly fades, stretching hours and minutes…seconds into days, eternities, eons.

The melancholy absence of time lies oddly with the tedious and busy nature of the students, like hibernating creatures stuffing themselves with knowledge before the soft blanket of true summer can envelop their senses. People worked franticly to taste the freedom of summer, for the hard earned grade, forthe touch of the one they love.

Sitting in the plush leather arm chair, she wondered why the past few months had led her to this sun-drenched and secluded part of the library. The letter lay clutched in the sweaty palm of her hand, unread and unwanted. Why now?

The torrent of memories bubbled and surged under the layer if her subconscious, breaking and eroding the barrier until the answer arose. The letter remained in her fist as she thought back.

Time is imperative. Yes that's the right word. Quick, fleeting, memorable. How much is left? When is my research paper due? Have I forgotten an assignment? She checks the clock –an hour and a half before Charms begins. She twists her hands, fiddles with the pleats of her skirt. Why meet here, of all places? She stands at the entrance to the Great Hall, waiting patiently with paranoia she hadn't felt in so long. The excitement in so long.

It had been months since they had made love, under the impression that it would, I promise, be the last time. A quickie to satisfy his hunger, to take her that one last time. And every time he had made that confession he would be back every Wednesday to ask for more. "I promise… really," he'd murmur as he slipped his calloused hands under her skirt and pinch her clit. His arms would then pull her closer and embrace her with his intoxicating presence once more.

Back to reality, her breath hitching ever-so-noticeably with the relapse into daydreams. Or nightmares. Or fantasies…whichever her mind would choose. The sun was warm on her face, encouraging sleep and once more fell into the painful memory.

The last love-filled moment had been months ago, across the eternity that was the summer holidays. An owl at midnight in the second week of term had confirmed her greatest fear and hope. He wished to meet; to talk, to catch up, go over everything that had plagued her mind after they had separated. To rehash the pain that cost her 15 pounds, which tinged her complexion with a paleness the sun could no longer brighten. Only he could do that now; bring the color high in her checks as she screamed his name into the empty night.

Checks watch, watches door, check again. Feelings were mixed, emotions torn asunder by his smirk and lively laugh. And there he was, casually making his way to her. No one knew why she would lust over someone of his demeanor, why anyone would consider him worth the sorrow she endured at his loss. No one knew, but then again none of that was their business. They were to speak and nothing more.

Yet the thumping, frantic heart in her chest spoke of a longing so bittersweet it would fling common sense out the window. His presence alone was enthralling. Dominance and power oozed from his pores into the grace and ease in which he broke all the rules. Some called him a dick, an ass, or a womanizing bastard man-whore. He was all those things and more. Liar, manipulator came to mind. But when sinking into the light blue eyes of his tan face she was never safe from his grasp.

He's up close. Too close. He holds her face in his large hands. Lost in the black holes of his pupils, all thoughts of regret and choice were pushed from her brain.

All that existed was two yearning souls viewing each other as if years and leagues separated them.

In the instant they lock eyes he turns her, guiding her to the autumn-lite grounds and the glittering lake.

She follows obediently. She needed resolution.

The sheltered grove of trees held a magnificent view of the afternoon sun, warm and clear of pine needles. Settling down onto the soft grass they continue to search and scour one another's expression. The confusion of longing was clear and apparent. Words could be said later. Now was time for action.

As though possessed by the savage lust of dying animals, they found lips on lips, hands in hair, caresses of forgotten memories. They held on with such joy their hearts that they fluttered and soared into unthinkable heights by the heated caress. He sent hands into her shirt, lifting it up as she undid his buttons one by one, savoring the boundless time she had to do so.

Naked and panting they stared with renewed wonder at the slight changes in one another. Her weight-loss set her curves in the right places and accentuating her petite figure; mahogany hair and sapphire eyes gleaming with purpose. Quidditch had hardened his muscles, yet his skin remained smooth and cool to the touch. The light in his eyes burned with an iridescent beauty that could never be tamed. Unquenchable lust griped them, and they embraced as lovers again.

She never thought of her boyfriend as she gave herself to his power. The idea of fidelity didn't cross her mind. She fell fully into his grasp; she had truly missed this.

She returned back to herself, to the present.

That afternoon of love-making was six months ago. And every week since the fateful afternoon she sunk deeper and deeper into an unsolvable puzzle of lies and deception. He forced her to end her relationship, openly gloating to her ex of his exploits in her supple form. She hated him for that, for the loss of a boy she had so tediously constructed feelings for in an effort to rid herself of the horrendous manipulation.

He had moved on with several girls…but always came back. Always the side bitch to the rest of his harem. Always sweetened the deal with soft promises and rough caresses.

She never did move on, until she sought the courage to find happiness less than two weeks ago. It had been startlingly easy to redirect her fire towards another. The new boy pleased her and gave her someone she could openly walk with to the grounds. This spark acted as a new beginning, one she desperately craved and loathed.

Could she handle the words still clenched in her hands? With sadness in her heart she broke the sloppy wax seal and read:

Tonight. 10pm. Room of Requirement. You're mine tonight.

She pondered the letter in the fading light for another half hour, battling with urges and rationality until her mind was fit to burst.

But, in the end, she finally knew why.

She sagged her shoulders, burdened with the guilt and sorrow that would be replaced with a stolen sense of happiness.

She wrote back with care:

Yes Master.

End