A/N: I'm tickled pink so many people enjoyed the first chapter! Thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and follows. Many thanks to my betas: krazyredhead0317, dragoon811, Gemini Sister. I don't know where this story would be without all of your help, so thank you. xx

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Language, Mild Violence, Mentions of Character Death, Light Sexual Content

Disclaimer: The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story.


Chapter Two — Cinderella

Hermione groggily opened her eyes. "Severus?" she murmured, her voice hoarse from sleeping so long. She cleared her throat and tried to orient herself. Looking around, she saw she was in a cellar of some sort. Glancing down at herself, she saw she was wearing sooty clothing. "What in Merlin's name?" She looked around. "Hello?"

She searched for her wand, but it was nowhere to be found. Her wandless magic was severely limited, but even a simple Lumos eluded her. She could not feel the familiar pulse of her magic. It was gone.

"Cinderella!" a voice screeched.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Cinderella? What?"

"Come, Cinderella, breakfast should have been ready minutes ago. I've been calling you and ringing for you. My mother is already quite cross with you for taking so long. In fact, you may have just lost your chance of eating today." A sneering girl appeared in the doorway. She resembled Lavender, pretty and blonde and perfect apart from the snaggletooth she had. Her voice was screechy, making Hermione cringe. "You're so lazy and incompetent, Cinderella."

"Me?" Hermione asked. "What? Why can't you cook your breakfast yourself?" she snapped angrily. How dare she insult me! Hermione wanted nothing more than to curse the girl, but she knew it would be pointless without a wand. And what use is a wand if I can't do magic?

"You are Cinderella, aren't you?" Lavender asked snootily. "Goodness, I don't even know why we keep you here. Well, get up!" She pointed her finger at Hermione and waved it. "We don't have time for this."

Hermione stood, her mind racing. Was it possible that she had ended up in the book? That was the only logical explanation as to why she was being referred to as Cinderella.


Later that night, Hermione lay down in front of the fireplace, utterly exhausted. She had spent the day running around the manor, acting as Cinderella. All she wanted to do was sleep, but by the time she had finished the chores, there wasn't much time for it. She needed to be up early to tend to the fires and start breakfast.

A lone tear escaped from the corner of her eye and slid down her face. She just wanted to go home.


Severus opened his eyes, his head was aching. Looking around, he saw he was in a large, four-poster bed that was surrounded by velvet curtains. "Where in Merlin's name am I?" Thoughts of what had happened with Granger immediately put him on alert. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the opulent, brightly lit room. He paused when he realised he didn't know where his wand was.

"Accio wand!" Severus said, holding out his hand. When nothing happened, he tried once more. Becoming increasingly frustrated, he growled, "Lumos."

Nothing happened.

Being adept at wandless magic, Severus was shocked that neither his wand nor any light appeared. What had happened? He needed to find Granger and get some answers from her.

Suddenly, the gilded oak double doors swung open and three men entered. The corner of his mouth twitched, a smirk briefly appearing as he realised they were dressed as servants from the eighteenth century or so.

"Your highness, your father wishes to speak with you." One of the servants bowed low.

Severus looked around. Where was the prince?

"Your highness?" another asked. "Are you in need of anything? You've gone quite pale. I can fetch the king's physician...?"

They couldn't possibly be talking about him, could they? His eyes narrowed in realisation. There was no one else in the room. But how could he be royalty? His mother was indeed a Prince, but that was only in name, not status.

That damned book!

Severus's scowl deepened. Did Granger plan this? Was she in the book as well? He wanted nothing more than to find the chit and strangle her for getting him into this mess.

"Leave me," Severus said, his voice so low and chilling that it would have sent first and seventh years alike running for the hills.

"Your father insists, your highness. He needs to speak with you about an urgent matter."

"What about?" Severus snapped, wanting nothing more than them to leave him be. He needed to find Granger and figure out what was going on. How were they going to get out of the book? He had never even heard of this being possible. This was dark magic.

"You choosing a bride, of course."

Severus didn't think his day could get any worse. Apparently, he was wrong. He dropped his head to his hands and groaned.


"Cinderella!"

Hermione cringed at the sound of Lavender's shrill voice. It had been four days since she had entered the book. Four very long and tiresome days.

Lavender's voice echoed around the house as she shouted Cinderella's name once more. Footsteps followed and Hermione frowned. She absolutely loathed when Lavender or Parvati came into the cellar looking for her. This was her safe haven. They weren't allowed to come here and talk down to her.

"I've come to fetch you. Make yourself somewhat presentable." Lavender sneered at her.

"For what?" Hermione asked, standing at her spot by the fireplace.

"We're going into town. There's going to be a festival at the palace! Can you imagine?" Lavender snorted. "Probably not. A simple girl like you never has, nor probably ever will, see the palace." She smiled, a dreamy expression appearing on her face. "Well, wash up quickly. I simply must look my best for this festival, and we need to get to town before all the good gowns are gone!"

Hermione bit her lip to keep from making a snide comment. She wasn't a simple girl, not that this Lavender would know that. Still, no dress could ever make her look her best. Lavender may have a pretty face, but that wouldn't hide her ugly soul. Her cruelty and selfishness surrounded her like an aura… Anyone could see it.

After washing her face and making herself presentable, she made her way into town with her step-mother and step-sisters.


Severus closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. He was used to a life of seclusion; being the centre of attention was not his thing. The more time he spent as this 'princely character,' the more he grew to loathe it.

"Your highness, the invitations for the ball have been sent out. The royal tailor will be here shortly to fit you," a servant spoke before bowing and leaving.

"Why can't they leave me alone?" Severus growled out loud. Someone wanted something from him every second of the day. Every move he made was being watched by the public, and he couldn't stand it.

Not even his infamous scowl could prevent people from approaching him.

All the fame and expectations were too much. He honestly couldn't bear it another minute.

A spark of discomfort flared within his chest. He wondered if this was how Potter and Granger felt. How did they deal with the fame? Minerva had mentioned that Granger never went into public because it always caused too much of a scene. That's why she constantly stayed inside the castle. He frowned, suddenly feeling sympathetic towards her. He had always been rude and teased her and Potter for their fame - it had never occurred to him that it was unwanted.

I suspect I owe the chit an apology, Severus thought to himself, If I ever find her.

When Severus heard a set of footsteps, he took off at a brisk walk. He didn't want to speak with anyone else. He wasn't used to these expectations. During his past, his expectations were to live as a spy and then die. Hell, even Albus had expected him to die. The expectations of him having to live, rule a kingdom, and find a bride were truly overwhelming for him, which was saying a lot.

Severus decided to head into town. Maybe there he could be anonymous for some time.


Hermione trailed after her step-sisters, carrying their bundle of dresses. When she had asked her step-mother if she could get something, the woman had laughed cruelly in her face, saying that 'a lowly servant girl could never capture the attention of the prince.'

She knew that this was how the story went, but she couldn't help the small twinge of anger and sadness at her role. She didn't want to do this any more. Serving so many people while hiding how she truly felt was difficult. In fact, it was exhausting.

Frowning, it dawned on her that this was how Severus must have felt during the war. She had always known it must have been difficult to serve two masters and keep his mind private from others, but she had never truly realized how hard it must have been. Feeling how he must have helped to opened her eyes to how much he had gone through.

No wonder he's angry that I saved his life, she thought to herself sadly. If I had to spend years doing this, I doubt I would want to live much longer either. It was a depressing thought, but Hermione knew there was something to it.

However, she was still conflicted as she believed she made the right choice in saving Severus's life. She decided that once they got out of this book— if they ever did— she would make it up to him.

"Hurry up, Cinderella!" Parvati shouted, glaring at her.

Biting her lip once more to keep from retorting, Hermione quickly rolled her eyes. Stupid bint.

As they walked down the street, Hermione glanced down a side alley. Her eyes widened. That man looks like Severus! She turned to go towards him for a better look, but her step-mother grasped her wrist and roughly pulled her forward.

"Hurry up!"


Severus's eyes widened. He'd recognize that annoying mop of curls anywhere. He ran after her, but a gust of wind caught the hood of his cape, revealing his face. "Shite," he cursed.

"Your highness!"

"Look, there's the prince!"

Severus found himself suddenly swarmed by a mob and unable to go after Hermione. He had come so close to finding her, only to lose her.


"How dare you serve me cold porridge!" her step-mother shouted, slapping her hand across Hermione's face.

Tears welled in her eyes but she didn't respond. She knew doing so would only result in her being hit once more or worse.

Hermione had no choice but to obey. She hid her true feelings, not knowing how in Merlin's name she was supposed to get out of this mess. What was she supposed to do? Where was Severus? She had sworn she had caught a glimpse of him in the town, but couldn't be certain. It had all happened so fast.

If it was Severus, why hadn't he come to save her? Or at least attempt to find her? Did he truly care for her so little that she was doomed to be stuck here forever?

How in Merlin's name did the two of them get stuck in that book in the first? Would they be trapped here forever? She was at a loss for once, having not ever read of this happening before.

What type of magic could do this? A spell that trapped someone in a book? It was practically unthinkable.

She hated this. She hated not knowing. She hated feeling so helpless. She hated that she had to wear the same foul-smelling clothes every day, while Parvati and Lavender paraded around in the 'latest fashions from Paris.' No one here cared for her, and that fact weighed heavy on her heart.

Would this nightmare ever end?


Severus stormed about the castle. He had come so close to finding Granger, only to fail. It would be impossible for him to escape the palace again as the King had placed guards on duty to follow him. His only chance of seeing Granger would be if she came to the festival.

Merlin, give me the strength not to throttle her when I see her.


"Step-mother," Hermione began timidly, playing her role perfectly. "May I attend the festival?"

The older woman laughed. "You? You're dusty and dirty and you don't have any clothes or shoes. You'd be a disgrace."

Feeling utterly exhausted after cleaning the dining area and sitting room, Hermione dragged herself up the stairs to her step-sisters' bedroom, where Parvati and Lavender were waiting to get ready for the festival that was beginning tonight.

"Comb our hair for us, brush our shoes, and fasten our buckles, for we are going to the festival at the King's palace!" Parvati said excitedly, dabbing make-up on. "Come on, Cinderella, we don't have all night!"

After finishing with Parvati and Lavender, Hermione turned and quickly headed up to her lonely room in the tower. Over the past few nights she had begun to make a dress out of an old one of her "mother's". It wasn't perfect, but she thought it was at least presentable. It was difficult to sew clothing without magic. Changing into her mother's old dress, she made her way down the stairs.

Her step-mother and father laughed cruelly when they saw her.

"Oh, no!" her step-mother cried. "You cannot show yourself like that." Reaching forward, she tugged the sleeve down, ripping the fabric.

"A stunted kitchen-wench has no place at a festival," her father said cruelly, his eyes hard as he glared at her. "Stay here where you belong. The fire better be burning brightly when we get back or else you'll feel the sting of my belt."

Her step-mother turned and left with her two proud daughters.

Hermione, knowing how the tale went, went and found her mother's grave beneath the hazel tree. "Shiver and quiver, little tree, silver and gold throw down on me," she chanted the old words. A bird appeared with a gold and silver dress, which Hermione quickly put on. There were also slippers embroidered with silk and silver and a mask to match. After washing up, she pulled her hair back into a loose bun and ran to the festival, where she hoped that Severus was (would be).


Severus was at the festival. He was the king's son! Hermione couldn't believe that the book had given him the role of her love interest. Her heart beat wildly in her chest as their eyes met from across the room. She bit her lower lip as his eyes raked over her. She could see the relief in them.

As he approached her, she took a moment to look him over. He looked very handsome in his dark blue royal jacket and trousers, golden belt, and black boots. He wore a pair of white gloves on his hands, and Hermione found she wanted nothing more than for him to touch her with those gloves on.

He seemed uncomfortable, though, and she imagined it was because the entire room had their eyes on him. Severus was a recluse; there was no way he was enjoying all this attention.

He approached her immediately when he recognised her. "We need to talk."

"Dance with me," she said quickly. "Don't argue, just do it." They could talk in peace if they were dancing, and it would also stop other women from fawning over him. He wasn't theirs to fawn over.

But he's not yours either, her conscious cruelly reminded her.

The two of them headed to the dance floor, where they began to move slowly. "What is going on?" he growled, holding her close to him. "Do you have your wand?"

Hermione's stomach filled with butterflies from their close proximity. She shook her head. "I…I don't know, Severus. My wand is gone, and I can't feel the hum of my magic. I woke up at the house being called Cinderella. I think we're trapped in the book."

"Well deduced," Severus snapped angrily. "How do we get out?"

"I have no idea!" Hermione hissed, resisting the urge to shout at him. It wouldn't do for them to cause a scene. "If I knew how to get us out, I would have by now, Severus."

"This is Dark magic," Severus said, his eyes darting around. "Whomever sent you that book meant us ill will."

"Severus, I don't think that's true. There's no guarantee that I would have taken the book to you to begin with. We don't know why someone sent me the book," she argued with him.

He gave her a withering look, making her feel as if she was a first year all over again.

"You've heard of this type of magic before?" she asked to change the subject, intrigued about it. When - or if - they ever got out, she would need to read up on it.

"A long time ago," Severus responded. The music changed and he switched their dancing style. His movements were fluid, and Hermione swooned slightly on the inside. Severus was a well-versed dancer.

"I didn't know you could dance," Hermione commented, a smile tugging on the corner of her lips. Her dress swished around her ankles as Severus twirled her. If they weren't trapped in such a perilous situation, she would have enjoyed this much more.

"May I cut in?" a count asked, offering Hermione his hand.

"This is my partner," Severus growled, tightening his grip on Hermione and pulling her closer. "I will dance with no other."

The count walked away, defeated.

The protectiveness in Severus's voice sent pleasant thrills through Hermione. "We need to figure this out."

"What if we can't?" Hermione asked, her voice quiet. The thought was constantly in the back of her mind, never leaving her be.

Severus didn't respond. Instead, he dipped her low before bringing her close once more. She wondered if his heart was beating as fast as hers.

"Do we just follow along with the tale and play our roles?" she asked, curious as to what he thought.

He nodded curtly. "As much as it pains me, Granger, I suspect we'll spend the next few nights dancing with each other."

She smiled at him. "Why, Severus, don't sound too excited! It doesn't pain me at all."

They danced in silence until it was late evening, and Hermione knew it was time for her to depart. "Goodbye, Severus." She leant forward, kissing his cheek before pulling herself away from him. She ran along the dirt road to her home, where she laid her magical dress and shoes on the grave before falling asleep in front of the fireplace, utterly exhausted.


The next morning, once everyone had left, Hermione headed towards the grave. She spoke the magical words once more, and the bird threw down a much more beautiful dress than the one she had worn the previous day. After getting dressed, she wrestled her hair into a plait. It was difficult without some Sleekeazy's, but she had managed. Feeling beautiful, she headed towards the festival.

Her heart fluttered when she saw that Severus had waited for her at the gates. He took her hand and led her towards the dance floor once more.

"Any thoughts?" she asked.

"No, but I have no desire to chase you this evening," Severus said, rolling his eyes. He stared at the young witch in front of him, wondering how he had gotten tangled in this mess. Out of everyone he could have been stuck with, it just had to be her, didn't it? She was the one person he didn't want to be around. She was loud and pushy… A total pain in his arse.

Hermione pretended to pout. "Come now, Severus, you can't tell me you're not enjoying yourself at all."

"I'm not. In fact, I'd rather be grading first years' essays."

"Party pooper," Hermione replied, closing her eyes and allowing herself to fully enjoy the music. Her hand that rested on his shoulder reached upwards and gently touched the strands of his hair. She let out a small "oh" of surprise when Severus pulled her close. He leant forward, his breath tickling her neck.

"Miss Granger, you are taking far too many liberties with me here," Severus breathed, his voice low and seductive.

She bit her lip to keep from moaning. While this was probably his worst nightmare, it was turning out to be a dream for her. She was getting a chance to be with him – a chance that she was denied in the real world.

"My apologies," she whispered, blushing. "It won't happen again."

Severus noticed the flush creeping up her neck and resisted the urge to scowl. Was she embarrassed? Disgusted? Why else would she turn that shade?

She loosened her grip on him and touched him more lightly. Severus frowned as she did so. Why did she do that? Why did he even care?

The fact that he missed her firm touch was surprising to him. Something stirred within him, an emotion that he had not quite felt in some time.

He closed his mind and pushed those thoughts away. It wasn't time to explore his own thoughts. He could do that later when the two of them were out of the bloody book.

The two of them danced for the rest of the evening. Every time someone else came to invite her to dance, he claimed her as his sole partner, scaring them away with a menacing glare.

She pulled herself out of his arms at the clock's chime, not bothering to say goodbye. She was still slightly hurt by his earlier words.

"Her – Princess!" Severus shouted. "Wait!" He chased after her. "Let me at least say goodnight!"

Hermione ran home, her heart racing in her chest. When he had shouted the word Princess, it was missing his usual sneer. In fact, she could have sworn he had almost said her real name. Her first name. He had never said it before.

She felt tears in her eyes as Severus chased after her. She knew he was supposed to tonight, but it felt real. She slipped into the manor unnoticed and changed into her rags before lying down by the fireplace.


The next morning as Hermione served her family breakfast, she overheard them talk about the mysterious princess that had captured the prince's attention. She smiled to herself, glad that they did not realise it was her. However, it also saddened her because she knew that she would never truly capture Severus's attention.

After her step-sisters, step-mother and father went to the festival, Hermione went and got her gown from the hazel tree. This one was far prettier than the previous two. It was a lovely shade of blue with lace trim, and it accentuated her body perfectly. She got dressed, astounded that the slippers were solid gold but very comfortable, like all the others had been. She headed towards the festival, conflicted about seeing Severus.

He found her immediately, dancing with her and no one else. "You didn't stop last night."

"I wasn't supposed to, sir," she replied quietly, not meeting his gaze. "That's not how this story goes."

Severus let out a low growl. "Don't do this, not now."

"I'm sorry, sir," she replied, her tone flat. She closed her eyes, focusing on the music. If he didn't want her to take liberties, she wouldn't.

"Hermione, open your eyes." He sounded fatigued.

She did so; astounded that he had used her first name. He had never used it before, and the sound of her name falling from his lips made a jolt of excitement pass through her. His dark eyes were focused intently on her brown ones.

He looked at her and grudgingly said, "You may as well call me Severus."

Her heart skipped a beat at his permission. It was a small step forward, but she'd take it. "Severus," she whispered. "All right. Call me Hermione, then."

The corners of his mouth turned upwards into a smirk. "Very well, Hermione."

They danced the rest of the day away. Soon, it was once again time for Hermione to leave. She escaped from Severus, hurrying away.

So focused on running in heels, Hermione had forgotten that the stairs would be covered in pitch. She cursed when she got stuck.

Severus appeared at the top of the steps, barking out a laugh. "You look a right sight there, Hermione!" he called down to her. "I'm surprised that you made it so far down without getting stuck."

Fuelled by his taunting, Hermione pulled her foot free. She left her slipper in the pitch and took off running, carrying the other shoe in her hand. Feeling bold, she lifted her hand and flipped him the bird. She heard Severus shouting at her, but she ignored him.


As she headed down to the cellar, clad once again in her filthy rags, she froze when she saw her step-mother waiting for her.

"Did you have a good time?"

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked quietly, lowering her gaze to the floor.

"I know you're the mysterious maiden. The one who's captured the heart of the prince."

Hermione felt her heart race. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Her step-mother produced the golden shoe. "I found this in the back garden near your mother's grave. The same shoe that the 'supposed' princess wore. You can't fool me, Cinderella!" She stood, her eyes blazing with fury. "You will never see the prince again."

"Yes, I will!" Hermione shouted, her fury from the past time bubbling up. "You can't stop me!" She turned to run from the room, but her step-mother grasped her before she could get away. She was dragged up the stairs and into the tower, where her step-mother locked her in despite her attempts to fight.

A scream of fury escaped her lips before she looked around the room. She needed to find a way to escape. There had to be something she could use in the old boxes and trunks in the room.


Severus looked at the king, trying not to lose his patience with the old man. "I'm telling you, the mystery maiden is who I want. She is somewhere in this kingdom, and I will find her," he said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

The old king sighed. "My dear boy, wouldn't it be easier to simply pick another maiden? I know the Duchess of —"

"I will have no other, Father. It is her or no one." Severus narrowed his eyes.

"How will you find this maiden of yours?" he asked, sounding somewhat defeated.

Severus smirked on the inside. He held up the golden slipper. "The one who fits this slipper is my true bride."

"Any girl could fit that shoe," the king countered.

Severus, however, knew the tale. He knew that the shoe would truly only fit Hermione. "We shall go house to house and have every young maiden try on the golden slipper." He paused, tilting his head to the side. "I believe we should start with the manors on the outskirts of the land and move closer to the castle."

"Is that truly what you wish, my son?"

What I wish is to get out of this book, and I believe that will only happen once I find Hermione.

"Yes," Severus said.

The king waved his hand, dismissing Severus. "You may begin your search for the mystery maiden."


The next morning, Hermione was awoken by the sounds of trumpets and knew that the King and Severus had arrived so everyone could try on the slipper. As she listened, she wondered what Severus would think of Lavender and Parvati's appearance as the step-sisters.

She waited, knowing what was most likely going on downstairs. Making her way towards the door, she quickly began to pick the lock with a small pin. It took a few tries, but she eventually got it. When the door sprung open, she rushed down the stairs.


Severus looked at Lavender and Parvati with disdain. He had been amused when he saw that those two had been cast as the evil step-sisters, but he was now disgusted with their bloody feet. Were they truly that desperate to rule that they would cut off part of their feet? Apparently so.

"Where is your third daughter?" Severus asked, looking towards Cinderella's father.

He stuttered. "I have a girl from my previous marriage, but she is not worthy of you, your highness."

"Where is she?" Severus demanded to know. His hand went to the hilt of his sword, knowing that it would frighten them into revealing her location.

"Through the kitchen, upstairs," Lavender cried out, tears streaming down her face. "Mother locked her up there."

Severus took off running towards the kitchen. He saw a stone staircase in the corner and began to climb it, prepared to save Hermione. As he rounded a corner, he came to a stop, nearly crashing into someone. "Hermione?" he asked, his eyes wide with disbelief. "I thought you were trapped."

She pursed her lips. "Yes, well, I escaped. Took a few tries, but I was able to pick the lock."

He smirked, a chuckle threatening to fall from his lips. "I should have known you'd escape with your proclivity for getting yourself out of difficult situations."

Hermione made a sour face, knowing that he was making fun of her. "Come on, let's get this over with. I want to go home." Together, they walked back to the living room where a guard member was waiting with the golden shoe.

There was a collective gasp when everyone saw Hermione's unclean appearance.

"How dare you come out here looking so filthy," her step-mother said, fanning herself as if she would faint from embarrassment.

"Get out of here, Cinderella!" her father shouted angrily. "You're not presentable enough to be in the prince's presence." He reached forward to grasp her wrist.

"Wait!" Severus quickly said, his voice firm. "Do not touch her. She is to try on the slipper." He knew they would not dare oppose him. He was the Prince, after all.

Her father released her and Hermione slowly walked towards him. She looked over at Lavender and Parvati and saw that their feet were bloody. Hermione cringed.

Severus held the gold shoe, a scowl on his face. Smirking, Hermione sat herself on the stool and removed her clog. She held her foot out to him, unable to resist wiggling her toes at him.

Severus slipped the slipper on her foot, which fit her like a glove. He helped Hermione to her feet. "My true bride," he murmured, lowering his lips to kiss the back of her hand but stopping just before. Hermione's stomach churned with disappointment. She had wanted to feel his lips on her skin.

The two of them got onto his horse and headed towards the church. Severus sat behind her, his arms around her tightly as they rode. Every bump cause Severus to rub against her a little more and if Hermione had been more aware, she would have noticed that Severus's member became a little more firm after every jostle. Severus, however, was indeed aware of what was happening, and cursed himself for limiting his human contact the past few months. Think of Minerva in a swimsuit… He needed to think of anything to get his mind off of how good it felt to have Hermione's small frame pressed up against him.

As they trotted along the road, they both remained silent, unsure of what would happen when this tale ended. Hermione resisted crying as they stepped into the church.

"It will be all right," Severus whispered as he led her towards the front of the church. The priest immediately began to speak.

Hermione tried to steady her breathing, her eyes never leaving Severus's. She didn't know what would happen next, but she hoped they would wake. She wanted to go home. She wanted to curl up in her bed with Crookshanks, a glass of wine in one hand and a different book in another.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Severus leant forward, his lips brushing hers.

Once more, the world went dark.