Warning: Major spoilers for Goblet of Fire, as this fic is set during that year.
Disclaimer: All references to the world of Harry Potter belong to the woman we all love, JK Rowling. I just like to play around in that world a bit.
Night had descended quite peacefully – on the outside, at least. The inside, in this bedroom that was not my own, had welcomed night in a somewhat explosive manner, and please note the fact that I had enjoyed it quite thoroughly. Explosive is the only way I can possibly describe how the later half of this summer had turned out.
I grinned at the thought, worming my way closer into the embrace of the one who held me in his slumber. He unconsciously tightened his hold on me, pulling me flush against his warm body. I sighed contentedly. Yes, I would be perfectly happy to simply stay in this exact position with this man until I died.
Hm, that's a bit morbid. I mentally shrugged. Death happened. All the better for me if I happened to be wrapped in his arms.
An insistent tapping caused me to lift my head; I glanced toward the window of the bedroom that seemed to exist merely for the convenience of owls. Gods know that he wouldn't have tolerated such a frivolity otherwise.
Through the opaque glass I could see the blurry outline of a prim bird, now continuing its assault on the windowpane. I groaned softly and extracted myself from the circle of his arm (most reluctantly) as subtly as I could. The stone floor was cold against my feet as I padded across to the window and quietly allowed the owl to deposit its letter in my outstretched hand. He flew away, wings flapping erratically.
I looked down to the folded parchment, seriously considering leaving it until the morning. But the scrawl of his name, as though written hurriedly, and the added blaze of the blood-red 'Urgent' deterred me from that particular plan of action; I sighed heavily and returned to the bed.
Leaning over the mattress, I kissed his mouth softly, playing absentmindedly with the hair spread about his face. I coaxed him into wakefulness rather quickly, able to tell the difference from the way he responded to my kiss with a burning intensity that made me want nothing more than to join myself to him once more.
I eased back unwillingly, staring down into his dark eyes. He looked up with a definite smirk, but those eyes betrayed the slight confusion at my lack of enthusiasm. I smiled gently.
"I'm sorry to wake you, but a letter arrived for you. It looks serious."
He sat up immediately, all traces of sleep gone. I would never understand how he did it, but I assumed it came from the abrupt calls of his former Master, oh so long ago. Perhaps it was a trait that did not fade, even after lack of use.
I handed him the letter silently, pulling a pillow to my body after he had taken it. I watched him rip it open and saw his eyes scan quickly, narrowing near the end. His mouth pressed into a hard line and he unexpectedly rose from the bed, striding toward the wardrobe on the other side of the room. I admired the lines of his naked body, sighing softly when he covered himself with black robes that swirled about. We both remained silent; he delicately ignored my gaze as my eyes, the color of summer grass, followed his movements around the room.
At last he returned to my side, fully dressed, to retrieve his wand from the table next to the bed. He stashed it somewhere in the folds of his robe and focused his attention on me.
"I must leave," his deep, silky voice seemed loud in the still air.
"I figured."
His gaze softened slightly as he looked at me. "I wouldn't go if it weren't important, Aislin."
"What's going on?"
He sighed, reverberating with the weight of his role in life. "It appears that some Death Eaters have taken it upon themselves to remind the Wizarding world why we were feared in the first place." I noticed his use of pronoun, but chose not to comment on it. I knew who he was before I went to his bed. "The Dark Mark was conjured over the site of the Quiddich World Cup. My presence is requested there."
I nodded unhappily. "Probably accounting for your whereabouts when the riot occurred," I muttered scathingly under my breath.
His lips twitched in the merest glimmer of a smirk. "As if I would attend such a pointless event in the first place." One of the reasons we had decided to spend the night together. I had significantly less enthusiasm for the 'sport,' and he was more than willing to explore alternate activities with me. His tone became serious. "Go home, Aislin. I want you gone by the time I return. I don't want you integrated into all of this."
I managed to produce a small smile. "Yes, sir," I replied softly.
He leaned down and touched his mouth to mine for the briefest of moments, and then he was striding out the door. I flopped back onto the bed, biting my lip. If the Ministry wanted his alibi, they weren't going to get it. I was of age, yes, and although our coupling wasn't all-out illegal, it was severely frowned upon. We both knew the consequences of our relationship, but – for me, at least – he was too addicting to let go.
Into the darkness of the room, I whispered my plea, "Be careful, Severus."
A/N: Welcome! This is going to be my first multi-chaptered fic of the Harry Potter variety, so hopefully I get some followers along the way. I am currently in the process of another fanfic, of the Heroes variety (watch for the shameless self-promotion), Shadows of the Heart. I'll probably be shooting myself soon for taking on two full-length stories, especially since I'm falling behind on Shadows, but this idea won't leave my head. So let's just see how it works out, all right?
See the button in the pretty Slytherin colors? It's there for a reason! Let me know if you want to find out where this goes . . . Review, please!