Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations written by J.K.Rowling they are owned by her. My imagination however is my own.
While researching Valentine traditions for this story I came across the festival that is believed to be the origin of the lovers celebration day. I found it was very appropriate to one member of our favourite pairing. So I will start with a little history lesson. It makes today's Valentine celebrations seem a little tame in comparison.
The feast of Lupercallia was celebrated on the 15th of February and originated in Ancient Rome. One unusual aspect of this festival was that it was not associated with a temple of a god. First of all, the Romans themselves were a bit confused about which god this holiday honoured. Was it Lupercus, or Inuus, or Faunus? No one was absolutely certain, but that did not prevent this popular festival from being celebrated.
The focal point was a site on the Palatine hill: the Lupercal, the cave in which, according to legend, the wolf suckled Romulus and Remus. It seems probable that the name of the festival was derived from lupus ("wolf"). The ancients viewed the Lupercalia as a purification and fertility rite. The ritual involved the sacrifice of goats and a dog in the Lupercal by priests called Luperci, who smeared the foreheads of two noble young men with the blood of the sacrificed animals and then wiped it off. At this point, the youths were required to laugh.
One ritual had two young priests running almost naked (this is in mid-February, remember!) around the old city walls, slapping any bystanders they met with thongs cut from animals that had been sacrificed earlier. A smack from one of these thongs was supposed to cure sterility. Another rite was a purification ceremony held during the Lupercalia at which the priests of Pan Lyceus purified Roman women. Please refrain from asking for the details of how this happened! Suffice it to say it should not be repeated in mixed company! These ceremonies were accompanied by much revelry and drinking, with heavy emphasis on revelry.
Also during Lupercalia, but in honour of the goddess Juno Februata, it was traditional to have boys and girls pick names from an urn and become partners to the festival, playing and dancing together. The Lupercalia was so popular that it survived the onset of Christianity, but in a different form. In 494 AD, the Pope made February 15 the feast of the Purification of the Virgin Mary.
The Feast of St. Valentine and the saint lottery lasted for a couple hundred years, but the church just couldn't rid the people's memory of Lupercalia. In time, the church gave up on Valentine all together. Protestant churches don't recognize saints at all, and very few Catholic churches choose to celebrate or observe the life of St. Valentine on a 'Valentine's Sunday'. The lottery finally returned to coupling eligible singles in the 15th century. The church attempted to revive the saint lottery once again in the 16th century, but it never caught on. Not that suprising considering they had to try to follow the virtues of their chosen saints. And now on with the story.
Time Stood Still: Reckonings.
Time stood still, the only
sound now was the air that escaped their lips;
no one could quite believe what they had just witnessed. Professor Sinistra had
never been known to stand up at any time before a meal, let alone make a
speech. This evening, however, instead of sleepily sitting through the evening
meal she had shocked us all by rising from her seat next to Filius Flitwick and
calling everyone to attention.
"The headmaster has allowed me to prepare a special celebration this year for Valentine's Day. So I have decided to use a tradition that has been practised in my home town for over one thousand years; the Feast of Lupercalia."
Some in the hall, mainly the Slytherins gave a very deep groan and only after a very fierce stare from their head of house were they forced to quieten down. Everyone else seemed to be quite interested to hear about something that could well mean a party. Looking across at the long lengths of faces I smiled and easily remembered the times I had sat at those very same tables. It had been silly, but I always waited expectantly at Valentine's. Wistfully hoping to hear the soft slap on the wood as a little red, pink or any coloured envelope winged its way out of the post pouch. There had only been a few, the most colourful coming in my last year at Hogwarts, offerings which still to this day I believe came from my two best friends.
From her place next to me I could hear Farfalla, recounting the age-old custom from her home in Italy. I liked Farfalla, and one lazy afternoon last summer watching Irma dominate Albus, Minerva, Poppy, Pomona, and Emma Vector at magical croquet I had asked her if her name had any special meaning. I had got an answer after a lot of arm twisting and cajoling of the statuesque, middle-aged witch. Farfalla meant butterfly. Her temperament, however, was more reminiscent of a moth, elusive and generally not seen about much during the daylight hours.
"The lives of young boys and girls when I was young were kept separate. However, one of the customs we had was that on the eve of the festival of Lupercalia the boys would get to draw the names of girls from a glass bowl." She paused to allow a hush to fall again "They would then be partnered for the duration of the festival." Whispers whistled quickly around the hall again after this statement.
"Quiet, QUIET PLEASE. Now all girls must write their names on a slip of paper and place it in the glass bowl on the dais. Then in turn the boys will come up to the front and pick their valentine from the bowl"
Some of the pairings were to say the least controversial, and at the worst highly inflammatory. This didn't, however, prevent everyone from exiting after dinner with a sound reminiscent of the belch bibbed toads in the lake at mating season.
What none of us were expecting, not even Sinistra herself was the little addition Dumbledore had planned for the staff. It caused a great deal of argument and exclamations from some quarters but to no avail, the headmaster would brook no opposition.
"This is my last word on the matter, you will all participate with no exceptions" With a sharp look at the most vocal protestor- Severus, Albus Dumbledore returned to his second helping of dragonsberry crumble. A dish that even when cold emitted tendrils of smoking flames, in its heated state it had been seen to singe the headmaster's beard more than once.
I had at one time considered that we all might have misjudged Snape. That perhaps after the war he would soften slightly and become less grisly and unapproachable; I had been wrong. Adding evidence to this fact he stomped off with a comment that was up to his usual standards.
"Well, if that's the only way some of you can get anyone to go out with you then do persist in this.tradition. I however will not lower myself to such measures" With a sharp look at me and the other single members of staff he exited the hall. An action that provoked a discordant eruption of laughter even from the normally silent and stoical Enoch Engleby the Muggle Studies teacher.
"Well, who'd want to lower themselves onto that anyway!" Minerva's more ripe comments were something that had shocked me when I first came to teach at my old school. "I wonder sometimes if he realises how predictable he is becoming? Okay all you single ladies put your names in the hat." Minerva replied once the giggles had petered off.
"Minnie such filth coming from your mouth who would have thought it. Now don't go spoiling all the fun, lets all put our names in and spice it up a bit. No-one is taking this seriously; except for our dearest dark- darling Sevvie" Rolanda could never resist a jibe at Snape's expense and I can only imagine the mileage she will extract from this turn of events.
After another few minutes of raucous debate it was decided all the staff got to have a surprise partner for the following days celebrations. Everyone seemed content with his or her potluck choices with a few exceptions; Sybil had baulked at the idea of having Hagrid as a date, protesting that a crick in her neck would prevent her from crystal gazing for a number of days. I couldn't really see that it would make that much of a difference, in fact I whole- heartedly supported the idea. Emma had not unsurprisingly agreed to swap with her; she had after all been partnered with Severus. Her wicked and sometimes devious sense of humour had gotten the better of her again, I could see her winking at Rolanda; they both knew how much Snape would hate this turn of events.
It was a bit of an anti-climax when the last victim was recovered from the pink, opaque glazed bowl, there were after all only two of us left. I admit it would seem a little strange, us spending the day together in romantic pursuits. Although we had been at the school at the same time it wouldn't have been acceptable to see each other in a non- platonic way.
"This is a most unusual decision even for the headmaster" Emma said after Albus had retired to play wizards chess with Irma. The librarian it seemed was something of a chess champion. I had learnt just a month ago that her father had produced some of the best wizard chess sets of the past hundred years.
"Unusual, yes. But not out of character for Albus, though he does seems to have a reason for most of his actions even the more extraordinary ones. I have realized from experience it's probably best, however, not to ask him about them" smiling and taking a sip of her wine before continuing "You will either leave his office confused, or with an answer that includes a rather vacant smile and a lemon drop"
"Yes M, your probably right I'm sure all his machiavellian plans will be revealed by twelve O clock midnight tomorrow." Emma retrieved the last vestiges of liquid from her glass "Well I've got homework to mark before I go to bed so if you'll all excuse me" she pushed her chair back and made towards the door that led to the staff room.
That action brought the evening to a close and everyone drifted back to their quarters or offices to re-organise schedules for the next day. It would prove to be a very interesting one I imagine; I was certainly expecting nothing less than emotional fireworks. I wouldn't put it past certain individuals to employ the use of a particular potion that is a banned substance at this school. The Weasley twins were not the last jokers to attend Hogwarts.
Hour Six.
Hermione.
I woke up a little before the alarm sounded and with only a short groan slowly roused myself from the last fingers of sleep. Sweeping my fiercely protesting hair from my face I decide today I would give in to temptation and use my still full bottle of Lockhart's Luscious Locks. As usual I would breakfast early in the kitchens, Ella the castle's stove didn't mind. She was an amiable old lady and had provided food for many thousands of students and staff.
Noticing an envelope on my bedside table I sneeze at the fine dust that is awakened as I slip my fingers under the red wax seal.
Good morning to you, Valentine;
Redress your Curls to meet with mine.
Two before and straight behind,
Good morning to you Valentine.
That was the very cryptic but sweet rhyme that greeted my still sleep weary eyes. If only every morning could start so charmingly, even though I liked to hide it there was still a secret romantic inside me.
Hour Seven.
Even after the new improved rinse and fixer had been applied to my hair it still didn't look like the witch's on the bottle; I don't know why I wasted my money. I had wanted to make a bit of an effort today not only for him, of course not. That would be weird I mean he had been my teacher after all. I could just hear the reactions from Harry and Ron trying to explain that one to them! They still persisted in teasing me over my second year crush on the aforementioned figurehead of a prosperous beauty range!
Hour Seven
Remus.
I didn't know what Albus thought the results of his experiment would be, but I have known him long enough to realise that even if I questioned him I would get an evasive and positively perplexing answer. He had given me chances when no one else would and I respected and trusted him, that didn't mean I always agreed with him though. When he is in a mischievous mind I often think it's probably best to go and take the nearest floo connection to America. He had always been a secret matchmaker for as long as I had known him, said it was something to do with him being an old romantic. Aline had been his friend, lover and companion for many years and I know since her corporeal absence the pain had only slightly lessoned. Prejudice or the tip of Voldemort's wand had terminated any attempt I had made at a long-term relationship, and I had begrudgingly resigned myself to bachelorhood. It wasn't the fact I was a werewolf that stopped me pursuing anyone, I just don't think I have the emotional strength anymore to survive loosing anyone that close to me again. It was only two years since the end of the war and the mental healing of the wizarding world and to some extent myself was very much alive.
Hour Eight.
Hermione.
Approaching the Great Hall I noticed all the magical banners that had been hung for the occasion, although I think the pink staining to the castle's corridors was carrying things a little too far.
"I sometimes think this castle is alive you know, I saw the walls changing this morning." The unexpected voice caused me to stop and turn in its direction "I know it wasn't Flitwick and Minerva's wands because they conjured up their festive decorations last night."
I hadn't noticed him approaching because I had been taken aback by the decorations festooning the main meeting room. So his breath tickling my ear had made me start for a second. Fairy dust hung in the air like cobwebs above our heads; gentle swathes of roses, violets and sweet-smelling honeysuckle cushioned the stone borders of the hall. Certain Muggle flowers have magical contemporaries and those three in particular were among the most potent. Neville after the war had taken to cultivating these beautiful and rare species, so I imagine he had played his own part in yet another of Dumbledore's schemes. Valentia's Violets were most effective in the morning where their scent is caught in the early breeze. It seemed to coat the dew that now rested crystal like before us, parting like stage curtains to allow admittance to the theatre within.
"She's got a sly romantic side to her our transfiguration professor, but then she did marry a man who Sirius used as his role model for charm and technique with the ladies"
"What about you, do you follow his example, plundering his secrets to sweep a lady off her feet Professor?" I said half teasingly.
"That's for me to know and you to find out Miss Granger" Yes I envision him being a lot more subtle than Sirius when it comes to charming the fairer sex, but then the mysterious types always were.
"Well I never would have taken old Severus as a romantic," Rolanda said as she hurried past us wearing rather too much red for anybody's eyes to take.
It seemed someone had managed to charm a red rose to appear in the Potion Masters button-hole; and as many times as he furiously tore it out another would return in its place, slightly larger than the one before.
"Looks like Russell, Blake and their better halves haven't been resting on their laurels. I know the four of us would never have let an opportunity like this go to waste", This caused him to smile "Well Sirius certainly wouldn't have, he and James would come up with an idea and let Peter and I work out how to pull it off"
It was good to hear Remus talking about his friends without a noticeable catch to his voice and touch of sorrow in his eye.
"Well, let's go and see what the rest of the day has in store for us then, if we can manage to get past the floating dewdrops without injury that is" taking his arm unconsciously as I speak I let him lead me to the top table.
Hour nine
Remus.
Hermione had received the obligatory cards. Two red, and a rather lurid pink one that she had said was probably best left unopened until it had been properly decontaminated. Fred and George and their antics hadn't seemed to lesson with their heavy workload, and they could always be expected to test new products on now highly suspicious friends and family. Lessons were to stop at lunch and the afternoon's alternative timetable was being kept a secret, only Sinistra, and Dumbledore knew the complete itinerary. Hermione and I generally walked to class together and today was no acceptation, though I had for some reason this morning taken special notice of her fine features.
Yesterday I had overheard her talking with Emma, she had said that no one would ever describe her as pretty and had dismissed Emma's protests with a gesture of her hand. She was right she wasn't pretty, a fact that was not as bad as she thought. Physically she was beautiful internally she was much more. Hermione tended to put herself down, even as an intelligent woman she never realised the simple fact that she radiated the qualities that all the pretty girls never would.
Hour thirteen
Hermione.
The afternoon's activities it seemed were going to prove lively; various areas had been prepared for the celebrations and everyone would get the chance to participate in most of them. I say most because some were for, how shall I put it the more mature members amongst the crowd, namely us -the staff.
Poppy and Pomona were busy brewing something in the nurse's office. I had seen the herbology professor from my bedroom window scuttling from the greenhouses with a very large basketful of mandrakes leading the way to the hospital wing. I always get suspicious when those two start plotting, as I had been the victim of an initiation ritual of their devising. Who would have thought of them as a pair of mischief-makers? Certainly not me well not until afterwards anyway.
Lunch had been taken outside into the surprisingly temperate February weather. The pupils and staff were sitting in groups of two's below what may well be the first sunny day of the year.
"Do you know where the phrase wearing your heart on your sleeve comes from?" Remus's voice caused my head to turn away from the slouching Slytherin boy to my right.
"Is it something to do with why all the men are wearing their partners names on their sleeves today?"
"Yes, it's a medieval tradition, for a year the lady would be protected and cherished by her knight" He said as he placed a plump strawberry in my hand.
"That's where chivalry came from isn't it?" The juice dribbled down my chin as I suck the sweetness from the fruit "Obviously though all of you only have to do it for a day, can you imagine Severus following Sybill around for a whole year!"
Hour Fourteen
Remus.
Strangely that thought brought a slight quiver to my heart, the fact that tomorrow all this would be gone and our lives would go back to normal. Our interaction would range once again from morning conversations over tea and toast to late night debates over hot chocolate and hobnobs in the kitchen. I don't know why be it seemed as if now that wouldn't be enough; the wolf wanted to claim his mate. Perhaps I had denied that part of myself for too long, I had to some degree accepted that the wolf was part of me, but I had knowingly denied the one thing that could make us whole. First, however, I needed to stop talking as if the wolf were a separate entity inside me; that was something that had become a very bad habit -one I needed to break.
When had my feelings for this young woman who had once been my pupil shifted from away from just friendship? It had crept up on me as if cloaked in invisibility and that was probably why I hadn't noticed it immediately. While working together and being around one another as we had been for the past two years it seemed the respect, loyalty and friendship had matured beyond the relationship we had developed during the war. But into what, Love? Maybe today was the accelerant and excuse we needed to explore these previously clandestine emotions.
"Are you sure its only just for today?" Perhaps I should begin by dipping our toes in the water, though preferably not that particular body of water in front of us.
"Farfalla only meant for it to be a Valentines celebration?" she teased.
"Some records show that the pairings made on this day were held fast throughout the following year." I told her remembering the passion my mother had had for medieval literature.
"Remus Lupin you never told me you are a romantic".
"There are lots of things you don't know about me Hermione, but you're a clever witch I'm sure with the right motivation you'll be able to figure them out"
Hour Fifteen.
Hermione.
With that rather enigmatic statement he slid my drink from my hand, and gave me a sexy smile as he rattled the ice cubes that were half melted in the now empty glass. As he walked away from me I re-examined the conversation we had just had, or rather the words that had crept quietly within the letters and syllables. With a sigh of frustration and uncaring of who saw me I tore off my thick winter robes and tossed them precipitously to the side. A quick movement lowered my back to the green earthen slope behind me. I would just have to accept that no positive conclusions could be drawn about anything, yet.
This afternoon the pupils would take part in amongst other things musically accompanied poetry readings, cupids' catch, and the wizarding language of flowers; Farfalla had obviously been organising this for many weeks. The entertainments tonight were, however, going to prove a lot more interesting as the Astronomy teacher had invited some friends from her hometown to help with the 'magical rituals'. Her words not mine, and ones that didn't sound at all as innocent as she protested they were. The adult's party was to continue after the eleven O' clock pupil's watershed, and would most likely prove to be enlightening if Sinistra and Dumbledore's smiles were anything to go by.
What had Remus meant by 'are you sure its only for today'? Clearly he was just teasing me, wasn't he? My own response had been tempered to match his own and had been knowingly playful and beguiling. Maybe they were more of a reflex action brought on by the atmosphere of the day. Or were they something that I wanted to participate in willingly with full self- awareness and knowledge? No, he had been my teacher and now he was my colleague and friend that was all, that was all I wanted; wasn't it?
Hour Sixteen.
Remus.
The allure of the headmaster in a pink set of robes with red piping had brought many of the pupils into the great hall, were afternoon tea was being served from large steaming bowls at the centre of the room. If my sense of smell was correct and there was no reason it should prove me false, the concoction was suffused with hellebore and rose essence. In this quantity, however, the strongest reaction it would provoke was a peaceful and indulgent calm to rest on the students. It was still probably best the parents weren't informed about this particular ritual.
Surprisingly Hermione had echoed my gentle flirting with a few comments of her own, she had a quick wit and dry sense of humour that some took the wrong way. I loved the way she put a slant on seemingly mundane situations, she had changed after the war, physically and emotionally relaxing. I enjoyed the feeling of liberty being around her rouse up inside me, it was the knowledge that she accepted me as I was, not what I might have or should have been.
Sitting under the canopy of the oaks that skirted the forbidden forest we let the mood of the day seep into their bones. The mellow, passionate and often amusing romance of the poems and music had under the warm sun reflected the requisite emotions onto their audience. I had heard about the magical entertainers who had the ability to transmit emotions through their music, voice and words. Their talent however had been one that I had experienced only a number of times.
Hour Sixteen and Seventeen.
Hermione.
"Oft have I heard both youth and virgin say
Birds choose their mates, and couples too, this day;
But by their flight I never can divine,
When I shall couple with my Valentine
"It's a Muggle poem I've forgotten who wrote it though. There are many non-migratory English birds that nest and mate early in the year. The raven pairs, mates, and nests in mid - February, it sounds quite romantic". Leaning into him I took my whisper close to his ear, recognising the smell of fresh air that still clung to his skin, lingering from our al-fresco lunch.
With a simple turn of his head his eye's met mine, I could see the music and words of the performers had brought a different type of alertness to them. I saw that the intellectual and friendly light had taken a backseat to an awareness of attraction and unspoken questions. His own response had as much double meaning as my earlier one.
"Doves were the favourite birds of Venus and stay with their mates for the whole of their lives. Did you know that when wolves mate they do so for life?"
"Your not a wolf Remus" I whispered.
"Part of me is, it may be less violent now but don't think that it only comes out for a few nights a month." After resting one of the enchanted flutterfly's on my hand he continued. "The wolf is part of me and after a struggle I have learnt to accept that from certain perspectives it doesn't always need to be considered a curse"
Maybe the music had blunted my natural reserve; perhaps the flutterfly's wings that had now harmonized themselves to the rhythm within my body were the cause? There was, however, some reason I decided not to tame my words, as I normally would have done. Without reserve, I intuitively matched his openness with my own.
"Are you saying that by accepting the wolf it aroused certain instinctual impulses?" Discarding the last vestiges of inhibitions like a spent match I speak even more boldly "If you're allowing the predator inside you to awaken what exactly is your prey?"
His soft voice closely caught my ear and answered with a breath on its curve. "Perhaps that would be better phrased as who exactly is my prey?"
Hour Seventeen and Eighteen.
Remus.
Afternoon as it often does slipped silently into evening and taking Hermione's hand I led her to the great hall to share the spectacle of the sunset, Which when it felt inclined to would transfigure itself onto the ceiling. It was a rare occurrence and not many got the chance to witness it. I had the feeling that today we would be lucky; it was Valentine's after all. We were pleasantly surprised when we found that the room was only sparsely adorned with other celebrants. Having opted to either remain with the music, or if they were so inclined start sprucing and charming themselves for the evening festivities.
"I remember the only other time I saw the sunset in here, it was Valentine's then as well. I was feeling a bit down because I hadn't received any cards." She spoke wistfully as we sat in the corner of the large room hidden from the eye's of any who might enter the now almost silent room.
Not looking at her I touch upon a subject that I had wondered about for a while.
"Not even from Harry or Ron?" Almost as soon as I speak the words I recognise her hand moving against mine and feel the light chuckle that ripples through her body.
"No. I did think that perhaps they both might have at some time thought they liked me more than just as a friend. I realised, afterwards that it was purely pubescent hormones, something all three of us had despite the fact we were fighting a war" Shifting slightly on the hard stone seat she continues.
"Any romantic liaison would have affected our dynamic as friends and would most probably have ended badly. I needed them as friends and allies much more than as potential dates" she finished.
"I always wondered about that. Harry's happy now isn't he? Well as happy as he allows himself to be that is," I said.
I love to hear her laughter; it had a very refreshing quality that made me want to smile every time I experienced it. In the past few years there has been little chance for any us of to feel comfortable with frivolity; no one felt at liberty to express amusement or happiness out loud. The hand of war had not left anyone untouched and only now was its grip beginning to slacken. It would never release us completely though; its stale stench would always be hiding somewhere.
She seemed to be sensing my thoughts if her next words were anything to go by. "Do you know what? I think its time we stopped worrying about Harry, the aftermath of the war and other people." I turn to face her and see the firm determination evident in her eyes. "Today is about love, happiness, and.. us."
The last word was spoken in a flush of heat against my lips; she had imperceptibly moved very close to me. Hermione Granger was more forward than I gave her credit for; then again she was a Gryffindor and a survivor of that cataclysmic final battle. What else could I have expected?
Hours Eighteen and Nineteen.
Hermione.
I don't know if Remus realised his thumb was slowly stroking the back of mine, or that the caress was disturbing me in a very pleasant way. When I first started to call him Remus it had seemed a little awkward and strange but now it came naturally.
"Today is about love, happiness, couples and..us" my thoughts and words hadn't failed me.
There had been an appreciable alteration today in the way we perceived each other. It was as if these hours were the impetuous we needed to bring our budding passion to full bloom. The words in my head were spoken from his lips, my skin recognised the presence of his own and my lips craved the touch of those so near to mine. My dearest wish was that this would continue past midnight, I didn't want to wake up and find it was all a fragile enchantment conjured by imagination or fancy.
I had always imagined what that feeling would be like. You know the one where you finally become aware of what all those teenage conversations had been trying to guess at. In my own mind that sounds corny, like a phrase from one of my Mother's slushy romance novels. But this is the simple truth; that instant has arrived this was the pausing second of realisation, acceptance and submission.
Dissolving on impact the arrow had just narrowly missed my arm and had caused Remus and I to spring back physically from each other.
"Loony, loopy Lupin" Peeves sang "Loony, loopy Lupin kissed the girls and made them cry, loony, loopy Lupin"
As rude as usual but so very unusually dressed Peeves the poltergeist had decided to dress .erm, down for the occasion. Cupid it seemed was dead, and firing out arrows around Hogwarts, albeit spectral ones!
"I see you are both maintaining your normal adolescent standards of behaviour, I wouldn't want to think that todays.. festivities would cause you to act out of character". It seemed Snape had emerged from his hole in the bowls of the castle.
" Beauty and the beast, without the beauty" he sniped.
I felt Remus stiffen beside me, but I knew him well enough to understand that his weapon towards Severus's verbal attacks would be polite indifference; a trick that I needed to learn. Before I could respond, however, Sybill made a rare entrance into the dining hall and her very determined destination seemed to be Snape. It made me wonder if someone had managed to sneak something past her inner-eye and into her drink. A love potion wouldn't be beyond the talents of at least two of the pranksters, they weren't exactly sticklers for the rules or fans of either of the professors.
Remus and I were left with the sight of Severus making a hasty retreat on all fronts, followed by the slightly dishevelled looking Divination teacher.
"Well, that wasn't exactly what I had hoped would happen next but it was something that I'm glad I had the chance to witness" I said through my unsuccessfully suppressed giggles.
"If Rolanda hears about this our dear old Sevvie will never be able to live it down. The man who can put a stopper in death is being chased like a mouse around Hogwarts by a magically intoxicated seer" I add.
Just at that point another arrow hurtled towards us, the shock of its obvious collision course made Remus pull me towards his side. This violent action had a favourable result in my opinion, until another missile manoeuvred itself and this time hit its bull's-eye- us. I felt no sharp piercing of the skin just a wet sensation as the bolt exploded across our backs.
"Peeves, I wouldn't do that again if I were you" Remus said shaking the water from his hands.
The Poltergeist ignored his warning and proceeded to take aim for a second volley.
"It's a good job wands have waterproof charming because I get the feeling that this would be a bit defunct otherwise." Sighing Remus recovered his waterlogged wand and directed the point towards the cheeky cherub.
A quick gesture and a lone word later the phantom cupid was impaled on his own arrow and cursing loudly as his whizzed off through the nearest wall. I don't know how cupid would regard Peeve's plagiarism of his routine though. Considering the god's own retroactive transformation from virile man to a cute cherub it made me curious. Cupid had over the years been re-modelled to include an attitude change and a dumping of his deification. It had, however, left his artillery and powers intact and this child like image was more comforting to both the magical and muggle worlds. I'd much rather have a little Tinkerbell with a toy arrow (or in Peeve's case a ghostly one) zap me into passionate palpitations, than be stalked by a nefarious nude man with a questionable carnal imagination and a high - powered crossbow!
Hour twenty-one and twenty-two.
Remus.
In my school days at Hogwarts parties had been very similar to this one, the only thing that had changed were the people appreciating it. Sirius, James, Peter and myself had lived through much revelry filled Halloween celebrations, until that particular fateful one. It was times like this when I missed my friends most, even Peter, he had been our friend before he was our traitor a fact that made the pain worse. His defection was something we had never expected, his transformation had been absolute and when I had met him that last night he was unrecognisable as the schoolboy chum I had once known.
The nights' celebrations had started with a buffet style banquet set to the side of the hall, proceeded by an interesting festival dance that after the initial showcase everybody had been coaxed into participating in. Hermione and myself had discreetly avoided most of the amorous couples that had ventured out into the wind-chilled air outside. There had been a few that had progressed a bit further than even the most liberal of parents would permit, unfortunately Peeves had cooled the situation down a little more drastically than any of us would have liked.
By the smile on his face and jovial expression Dumbledore's favourite ingredient of the students' party had been the muggle party games. Blind mans bluff or as Rolanda had nicknamed it afterwards -Kissing mans butt had ended the night on a boldly boisterous note. The pupils were ushered to their beds and the corridors surrounding them and the hall were warded against any planned incursions. We all agreed that the pupil's branch of jokers had climbed their last length of rope for today. I don't remember any wild staff parties during either my schooling or first teaching years at Hogwarts. Things had progressed and tonight was not the first stage of that.
Change was the theme of the moment it seemed. My relationship with Hermione had made a very positive and definite adjustment to my life, our growing awareness of each other had increased tenfold today. I was determined, however, that tonight would be the reckoning.
Hours twenty-two and twenty-three.
Hermione.
The romantic mood of the day didn't seem to have had any influence on Severus's demeanour or dress code. He had been standing watching the proceedings of the previous hours with all the enthusiasm and frivolity of a stone gargoyle. Overhearing Minerva's comment I laugh, Sybill certainly wouldn't agree with her that he was a randy old goat. It seemed the Divination teacher had finally abandoned her stalking. She had diverted her attentions to prophesising the under-age pregnancies of illicit unions and the resulting offspring's mortality rates. Sometimes I think she did it all for the attention.
Sinistra was having a very enjoyable evening with Enoch, Emma had been cornered by Hagrid who's topic of the moment was the acromantula spiders he had obtained for the third years class. Thankfully Ron wouldn't be anywhere near Hogwarts, because with a legspan of fifteen feet and the capability of speech it wasn't going to be his idea of a nice pet. The experience with Aragog was not one he had forgotten easily.
"I'm not quite sure what additions the two 'P's put in the punch but I will categorically say its defiantly not suitable for the students." Remus said as he handed me my third glass of the pink and red concoction.
"Mandrake root and a lot of other purely medicinal ingredients" Poppy said as she held Pomona's hand and came to a stop on our left.
"The Mandrake root in its muggle form often resembles male genitals, it was prized as an aphrodisiac - so much so that it was called 'Circe's plant,' after the infamous sorceress." With that rather random statement Pomona chuckled and the pair of them started walking towards the drinks table.
"Those two shouldn't be let out together, can you imagine what they were like when they were younger!" Their path to the punch leads them past the headmaster who seems to have obtained a rather glazed expression."
"It seems to be a particular favourite of Albus's," I said pointing towards the man now resting in the corner.
Turning in the direction of my hand he smiled at the sight before our eyes. Albus Dumbledore sat slouching in the corner near the indoor rose bushes. Discarded and empty tumblers surrounded him and two bright red lip prints graced his cheeks. With a wink he acknowledged our gazes and seemed to be attempting to make kissing gestures with his lips. Clearly he was inebriated.
"Not something you see everyday is it" Emma said as she brushed past on the arm of one of Farfalla's Italian friends looking like she had just had a very good time. About time someone got a sex life I though. My mind is going to the gutter, perhaps my alcohol tolerance is not as high as I had imagined?
"Neither are those male dancers that Rolanda seems to be draping herself over" Remus had once more decided to torture me by whispering into my ear.
My head follows my body and I soon find myself staring up into his eyes, his hand is in mine and I can feel the callus caused by the quill he grips too hard. I know if I look down I will see the ink stain on the middle finger of his right hand. But I don't want to pull my eyes away from his for a second.
I don't want the little fairies in the air to flitter around me distractingly.
I don't want Snape's leer to affect the self-confidence I have in this moment.
I don't want Rolanda's honking laugh to make me giggle and close my eyes.
I don't want the inhibitions that have dissolved in the alcohol to return.
I want to continue to feel the sharp sensation of his skin on mine.
I want to capture this moment for all the years ahead.
I want to know that today is more than an effect of the magical music playing in the background.
I want to recognize that I do have the courage to take the next step.
So I do just that.
"Did you notice Minerva leave on the arm of one of the poets?" stepping so close that my robes now touch his I echo his whisper, "I even think I saw Mrytle leave with one of the visiting ghosts," I said smoothing my hand over his chest.
A warm palm moved to stop my slow gesture. I feel the quickening pace of a pulse on my wrist and a resonant beat of his heart beneath my fingers. A bubble of silence surrounds us and I no longer hear the other diversions in the room, my whole self is focused on him. The sound is my ear is passions rush, I now recognise it for the first time and the fact that its pulse reflects those on my hand. We are existing in rhythm; like a composer and his opus.
Not resisting the urge I brush aside the fairy dust that glinted in his hair and once again the pounding inside my chest rises and sends a wave through my body, stretching itself over my skin. My lips begin to move and listening to my words I finally understand what I had been waiting for, a chance to let all my barriers down and open myself to someone completely.
"Is there something you would like to see more of everyday?" I said knowing my meaning will be understood. " I think that the predator doesn't have to go hunting for his prey tonight, his prey is ready and waiting to be taken." Lips almost meld as the last words are spoken and I find the contours of his face have blurred.
"Not just for tonight I hope?"
Ignoring the wolf whistle that comes from Albus's general direction we slip out of the hall into the empty corridor beyond. Without words we walk towards an inevitable destination.
Hour twenty-three and twenty-four.
Remus.
I lead her over to the window and wait until the moons lustre catches her features, the pale hue of her cheeks are set into relief against high cheekbones. That hoary orb may govern the tides but its gaze no longer has such a fierce grip over me, for the first time since I was bitten I appreciate it as a nightly illumination rather than a curse. It has become benign and that's partly due to the woman who in its light is rendered beautiful. Slipping my hand from hers I trace the brow bones and let my thumb come to rest on her cheek. Goose bumps form across her skin their texture evident against mine. My free hand captures her waist further concentrating the physical distance between us. We stand still in the moment unfolding the seconds separately, until finally I bring about our reckoning.
Hermione.
The first touch was soft but in no way could it be described as hesitant. It seemed as if all my nerve endings were now centred on my lips and the growing wildness of our kiss. I hadn't imagined that a touch could be so intense and intimate. His tongue learnt the contours of mine and in that instant I set my fingers free from rational thought. Thinking was redundant, feeling was awake and all I needed now.
Remus.
I was glad of the simple fastenings on her robe as I watched the fabric skim the shadowy silhouette that was translated onto the wall behind her form. There was nothing concealed and the gentle blush had dissipated as her own gaze took in mine. Unreservedly she slides her eyes over the scars that I usually allow no one to see even in intimacy. Offering no sympathy or comfort she just accepts them, and that almost stops my heart. For the first time someone realises that I don't seek either of those things. For the first time they are not seen in their individually, but as part of me.
Smiling her footsteps brush against the rug as she takes the final step. The reckoning.
Hour twenty-four.
Hermione.
His face that I had thought so familiar I am now seeing as if for the first time through different eyes; a lover's eyes. All that we were had been revealed and laid bare, physically and emotionally explored and finally fused. I could certainly say that the wolf was defiantly within him, but not controlling him a truth I discovered he had struggled with for a long time.
The chill in the room wasn't the reason for our closeness, the heat of passion still held an imprint on us both. Slow caressing along the indent in my back tended the glowing embers, and his unguarded thoughts were freely given to me in his eyes. A musky and almost feral scent lingers even against the gentle pressure of the current in the air. Neither of us sought separation, our bodies lying temporarily sated as we watch twelve O' clock midnight pass away into another day.
"I don't know if that could be classed as a ritual of purification? It definitely fulfilled the fertility element of the tradition though". My hands echoed the boldness of my words, and I saw the desire rise as his pupils adjusted to the faint light, fresh from the window.
Brushing back the curls that had escaped from behind my ear he lazily spoke. "Hmm, the twin wolves of Rome who started this festival would certainly be pleased. That's no reason to rest on our laurels though. You know what they say about practise, don't you?"
"Of course. But I don't think we should worry too much about perfection" I replied
"You don't?"
"No, practise is definitely underrated" I said as I proceeded to indicate exactly what I meant without words.
The day had been a beginning and a conclusion. It was the start of 'us' and our life together, and a full stop for our discontented souls. We both realised that this was no fairytale ending, we weren't living within the pages of a book, but we were as near as anyone can be to contentment, and completeness.
The day hadn't exactly gone to plan, but
all things considered they were
twenty-four little hours that would remain seared into both of our memories.
The poetry used I was adapted from some anonymous pieces I found and are not wholly my words.