A/N: To anyone confused: "Loch"is an Irish and Scottish Gaelic word that is used to describe sea inlets and/or lakes. I believe it is most commonly used in Scotland (think Loch Ness Monster), but I could be wrong. Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

Ron awoke with a start, feeling Gemma stir beside him. Their bodies were tangled in a mixture of bed sheets and limbs. It was a challenge and a half, rising from bed without waking her, but he managed to do so, having five solid years of practice under his belt.

The young man made his way to the door, carefully turning it open before proceeding into the corridor. There was something tugging at his chest muscles. It wasn't panic or dread. It was more physical than that. He entered the loo and stood directly in front of the sink, turning the tap on to splash his face with cold water.

His temperature had risen. There were aches all over his body. The feeling in his chest worsened.

There was only one cause for this, something Ron had managed to overlook since Cissy Malfoy's kidnapping.

His attention drifted to the mirror above the sink, and with one look he was able to distinguish the source of his problems. His werewolf cycle had begun. It had always sounded cool and somewhat intriguing to him, as a child, to be a werewolf. But it was nothing of the sort. He'd learned this from Remus Lupin, and again through his own recent experiences.

Wolfsbane, as foul as it was to ingest, helped him immensely during full moons, providing him with enough control to keep his human mind during transformation. Those nights were not an issue, not in the way they used to be. It was the nights before and after transformation that plagued him most. He couldn't control his temper. He couldn't control his mood, his aggression.

Gemma, being the excellent person she was, understood his condition and did what she could to help, but her hovering did nothing in the face of something as irreversible as lycanthropy.

It was during times like these, when he turned to the Gods he didn't believe in and prayed for the impossible.

Six years had come and gone since his best friend was murdered, but the wounds were still fresh and the screams were still ear-splitting. He remembered that battle. He remembered it second-to-second.

He needed Harry.


Hermione could hear footsteps coming from the corridor, having retreated to Cissy's room for some last minute rest about twenty minutes ago, leaving the balcony and all its possibilities. She closed her eyes and imagined everything, as though living through it for the first time.

The brunette inhaled, filling her lungs with oxygen. His hands went through her hair, down her back and along her waist. She could not breathe without breathing in his scent. It was musky and delicious. It made the fever in her chest rise to unfound heights. She had to have been shaking. Every word. Every moment, had been a precursor to this one. Her eyes fluttered shut. Her heart raced like a Firebolt. Her lips parted, quaking against his as he kissed her.

It was different from their earlier kiss. It was not clouded with danger or urgency. It was slow, sensual and divine. She kissed him back, feeling his deep-seeded longing transfer through their kiss in the shape of a moan. It was no secret, that he wanted her all this time. She could see it in his eyes. She could feel it in his touch. She could practically taste it in the air, whenever he happened to be in the same room.

She responded to his sounds with some of her own, draping her hands along his neck and strong, solid shoulders. From this kiss, it was hard to tell they had ever spent time apart. Their lips were perfectly in tune with one another. Their hands. Their bodies. Their souls.

The night was theirs, and as he trailed his kiss from her lips to the inner curve of her neck, it was clear that he had every intention to satiate the fire burning in her core.

Her body quivered.

The memories sent her thoughts into a frenzy. Nothing had happened beyond that kiss, but even the smallest kiss with Draco eclipsed all else. She rolled to her side, forcing her eyes shut and praying the feeling of his lips on hers — and all along her neck — would vanish long enough for her to rest. There was a lot at stake. She needed to be in the best possible shape for the morning. Sharing some wine hadn't helped. It usually calmed her to have a glass, but drinking the bottle from their wedding only made the thoughts running through her mind run faster.

She breathed out, overcome with longing.

It was no mystery that the pair of them proved to be an incompatible couple. She couldn't fool herself into thinking one kiss meant they should give their relationship another go. The weight of the divorce still rested evenly on both shoulders. She wasn't sure if she could handle another.

But there was one thing about Draco that set him apart from other men.

Every year on the anniversary of the day she had risen from her magically induced slumber, there was a single lavender flower delivered to her doorstep. She recognized these flowers, seeing as they grew wild in the land surrounding one particular villa.

Draco may have been a headache waiting to happen, but he was also a romantic, and she could not fault him for that.


The day burned brightly through Gemma's eyes. She could hear the group discussing their plans, which involved taking a Port Key to a wizarding settlement in Edinburgh and then attacking the Forbes castle. In her opinion, they were walking into a death trap but her opinion didn't carry much weight. She was, after all, just a Muggle.

The young woman turned to Ron, noticing something different about him. "How are you feeling?"

Her husband forced a smile and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. "Just a little tired," he lied. "Did you sleep well?"

Gemma frowned, folding her arms across her chest. "It's almost full moon," she told him. "I know you're hurting."

"I'm fine," he assured her, looking anything but. "If anything, it'll give me the edge I need on the battlefield."

"I don't think you should go," she said, frankly.

Ron breathed in, softening the strain in his facial muscles. "I have to go," he spoke, combing her hair back. "Beyond that, I want to go. Our Goddaughter is on the line."

"I know, and I do want her back but —"

"Trust me," he interjected, holding her hands in his. "I'll have Draco and Hermione with me. I'm sure you trust them as much as I do. There's no reason to worry."

"If anything happens to you —"

The red-haired wizard smiled, kissing her directly on the lips. "I'm coming back to you," he whispered, so the others couldn't hear. "Whether you like it or not."

Gemma closed her eyes and then nodded. There was no convincing him out of it. If there was one thing she learned about this group, it was their addiction to danger. None of them would confess to anything so ludicrous, but it was written in their history and strung through their DNA. She knew all about Ron and Hermione, and their best friend Harry Potter. She knew all about their adventures at the legendary school of witchcraft and wizardry.

Part of her wondered what Harry Potter had been like. She heard only good things about him. He was courageous and compassionate. It was no wonder Ron had grown so fond of him, during their time together at school. Then there was Hermione — without whom they would never have made it through any of their adventures. Gemma admired Hermione Granger. Gemma was also aware of Hermione's past with Ron. The pair had harboured feelings for one another during their later teenaged years. But the death of their best friend — and simultaneous victory of Tom — separated them and in that separation, the romance between Draco and Hermione came to be.

Personally, she loved the story between Draco and Hermione.

But their story was not finished, as they were not yet back together. She looked to the lounge and saw them standing on opposite sides of the room, gearing up and throwing subtle glances at each other when they thought nobody was looking. It was beyond adorable, and she hoped with all her heart that they would find their precious girl.

The group was incomplete without its star player — without Cissy.

Severus cleared his throat, bringing everyone to the centre of the lounge to discuss their plans. Through rest and care, he'd recovered immensely overnight and managed to convince the others he was fine to fight, much to the dismay of his worried girlfriend.

"All right," Severus broke through, gaining their full attention. "Here's the plan," he started. "The Forbes castle is rumoured to be hidden underwater, in a loch as dark as the night sky —"

"Underwater?" Ron repeated, perplexed. "How is that possible?"

Louise stifled the chuckles that tickled her throat. "Until you hit the trigger."

The redheaded wizard's mouth formed an 'o' shape, and he retreated. "I'm guessing the castle rises from the water once you hit this so-called trigger."

Severus nodded. "The castle is sealed under numerous protective spells, making it impossible for water to penetrate the barriers."

"Do we know where to find the loch?" Hermione asked, taking notes on a sheet of parchment.

"In the archives, I found several journal entries belonging to Geraldine Forbes, and in those entries she wrote about a loch in the eastern side of the wizarding settlement in Edinburgh," Draco offered. "It's not the loch that's hard to find. It's the trigger."

"Is it guarded by a password?" Ron ventured, speaking quietly this time around.

Hermione scrunched her mouth to the side, in thought. "I'm thinking it's more of physical trigger — a tree or perhaps a landmark of some sort."

"There's no way to know, until we get there," Severus continued, withdrawing something from his cloak. It was a single vial of Polyjuice Potion. "We'll need to disguise ourselves as soon as we arrive."

The team nodded in unison.

"Wait —" Gemma stepped forth, looking more nervous than she sounded. "If you activate the trigger, you'll lose the element of surprise."

"She's right," Draco affirmed.

Hermione showed support, as well. "There must be another way to do this."

"There is," Ron spoke up, suddenly. "We swim."

There was a moment of bewilderment amongst the others. It appeared none of them had thought to simply swim to the castle. It was clearly a far way down, but they had magic on their side. Plus, all of them could swim. Ron himself was a fantastic swimmer. There was only one problem in his otherwise sound suggestion.

"How do we penetrate the underwater barriers without flooding the castle?" Draco asked.

Louise was the first to speak up. "I'm sure there's some sort of underwater airlock for emergencies."

Ron arched an eyebrow. "And you know this…how?"

"The school I attended had an underwater facility to observe merpeople," she explained, quite casually at that.

Severus didn't look half surprised as the others. "It's decided then," he announced, looking to each of them. "Gear up, and prepare for one hell of a swim."

A/N: Thanks for reading! I'm excited to post the next chapter. It's going to be a long one.

Cheers

xo.