Hello, ladies and gents. Again, I apologize profusely for the lateness of this update, but hopefully it's worth it. As for the title of this chapter, I almost wanted to call it The Trap, but I decided to be in keeping with my little pun pattern. So, one can fall in love, fall into a trap, or...fall off a building. Or all three, depending on whether or not your name is Aurora Sinistra. I do know that you all want to know what the deal is with "Larry"...but I can't reveal all the secrets yet, now can I?
It's also worth mentioning that Aurora steps up her game in this one, or at least I like to think so. Thanks to everyone still reading, especially as we're getting so close to the end; you can't imagine how awesome that is. It really surprises me that people are still reading this. Shall I get down on my knees and worship? You guys are pure amazing, simple as that. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh, and reviews are nice too. ;)
11: Aquarius: Falling
Her head was swimming.
Once he had finished trying to thoroughly pry her lips off of her face in those first clumsy moments of frantic breathing and searching, his rough (and extremely rude, she might have added) advancements slowed to a gentler pace. It was less like they were haphazardly thrown together, knocked into each other like two glasses celebrating a hasty toast, and more like they were molded together, fitted like a worn pair of jeans.
And he was worn. Worn and chipped. Worn and chipped in all the right ways, pieces broken off by others before her, and it was perfect. A perfect fit.
Merlin, it was like fate or some preposterous notion like that.
Their lips were barely touching, and she didn't dare open her eyes for fear of what she might see in his. She could've sworn she heard him sigh a little bit, too, but she couldn't really tell.
That was where the moment ended, though. As soon as he moved away her thoughts snapped into place, surging with confusion and insult and disgust.
Was it too much to ask that he warned her before he tried to snog her face off?
…then again, what would he have said? Pardon me, but I'm about to smash my face into yours and suck on it for awhile?
Like he was a leech. Or, even better: a dementor. Yes. A dementor. A giant, disgusting, clammy dead-looking thing that sucked out people's souls.
Maybe he was trying to replace the once he was born without.
…maybe hers would be a perfect fit.
Ugh. No. Goblin. Goblin that was now half-sprinting down the hallway without her.
"Hey, where are you going?" she demanded of him, jogging to catch up.
Almost imperceptibly, he shook his head. "It is unlikely that Tasha would, at this point, give up. I must caution you not to waste our time on mere folly, as your brother has the misfortune of being promoted to the position of bait. He is, as we are, very much in danger."
Mere folly? Is that what he thought about it? Ouch.
"So…where are we going?"
"Because the point would be to—" he stopped as they passed a group of chattering guests, slowed to a brisk walk, and lowered his voice. "…would be to lure us into her trap, I suspect that she would not leave without bringing to our awareness a hint of sorts."
No matter how she tried to keep up, it seemed he was always still one step ahead of her.
It bothered her. …need she remind him that she was in heels? It also bothered her that he didn't look at her when he spoke, not that he usually made much of an attempt to do so, but she didn't even get a sneer or a belittling Aurora, please glance.
"So then what type of hint are you expecting? Where are you planning on looking?"
"People normally finance their 'vacations,' do they not?"
"Well, yes, but…Severus, do not tell me you are going through my brother's mail, because that is just—"
"Did he happen to mention to you any location of interest…perhaps a—"
"No, he did not. If he had, I assure you I wouldn't be following the likes of you around."
"Welcome news."
The tone of his voice, or rather the lack of tone, was like ice-water to her veins, chilling to the core. She had to get a hold of herself. Honestly. A grown woman, falling apart over a kiss.
A kiss. So what?
But how had he done it? God, how had he regained his composure so quickly?
Unless…maybe he didn't really care at all. Maybe it was just that simple.
"Severus." She lunged to grab at him, pulling him around a corner until she was in front of him, blocking his path. "Severus, would you look at me?"
He didn't.
He tried to brush past her, but she refused to let him escape.
"Are we just not gonna talk about it?" insisted Aurora. "Were you just hoping I'd just, y'know, forget about it?"
A flash. She almost caught that look in his eyes, but she was foiled by a very adept brush of hair and glance to the side. His adam's apple moved when he swallowed, but he stood his ground. So he was uncomfortable.
Well that was just too bad, wasn't it?
"We have other, more pressing, matters to attend to, Aurora. That is, unless you prefer your immediate family to be killed and the responsibilities of my career to be left at stake. If that be the case, then by all means, Aurora, do feel free to chat away about the constant emotional struggle that surely defines our…relationship."
"As if you have emotions." Relationship?
"Nitpick away, I implore you. Time certainly is not of the essence."
"Severus, please. Sylvester knows how to take care of himself. And she won't kill him unless she has us."
"Forgive me, but you might find it prudent to consider that she does not need your brother alive in order to draw us to her, so long as we think he lives. If you wish for him to retain his life, I suggest we act quickly."
"But that makes no sense! Why would she kill him? She has no reason to—"
"Believe me, Aurora, when I say she doesn't need reason. Death Eaters rarely do."
That struck in her a chord of well-measured fear. "Really, why couldn't this lady just have stayed in your room when she let that ghoul in and tell you off there, save us the trouble? What's the point?"
"For reasons obvious to anyone aside from yourself, she could not confront me inside the school. Therefore, in a manner of inviting me away from that safeguard, she needed leverage. Becoming clear?"
"Uh…no. She used Sylvester to get to me to get to you, sure, but if you knew about it then why, why did you take the bait and let yourself get led into this stupid trap? This is my brother's life we're talking about, here."
"Because, Aurora, when a follower of the Dark Lord wishes to confront me I do not have the luxury of politely requesting the assistance of Albus Dumbledore and hoping they do not realize the shift in loyalty. Now, as you so aptly pointed out, the life of your brother is surely at stake. Or would you care to have me answer any more of your seemingly endless reserve of questions?"
He ducked away from her and stalked proudly around the corner, sharp-fitting dress robes and all. As much as she wanted to argue his loyalty was already in question, he was (and she couldn't believe she was actually thinking this) right. Biting her tongue, she ran doggedly after his sweeping gait in an attempt to catch his sleeve.
The goblin was doing his very best to drive her insane.
"Severus, I hate to say it, but this is crazy. We don't even know what we're looking for, and this place is huge."
"In which case, you might attempt to make yourself…useful."
Merlin, even now? Was there no end to his snark, even in life or death situations?
"Seriously, I don't like this any more than you do, but this just can't be it, you know? We've got to be missing something. I mean, we don't even know where he keeps his mail."
He didn't stop, not even for a second.
Around the same time that Aurora decided that it was impossible, that they were going to get nowhere, and that Snape was a crazy git with a death wish, something hit her.
Literally.
Out of the periphery of her vision, something came flying at her that smacked her dead in the face.
Needless to say, Aurora did what any sensible, logical, and rationalizing person would do in the given situation: give an earth-shattering shriek, stumble, and barrel into Snape.
The thing that had smacked her in the face went sailing off down the hallway; she knew because she had a great vantage point from where her cheek was crushed into the Potion Master's shoulder. Whatever it was, it looked oddly like a fluffy bludger.
Reminded her of one, too.
Now, it wasn't every day she had something round and fluffy propelled into her face at high speeds, and it was even more impressive to find something that had hit her in the face that didn't then end up at her feet.
Provided that what she'd just witnessed was ridiculous at best even from wizarding standards, she was rather proud of herself for not shrieking a second time.
"Uh…please tell me you saw that, too." At least a second opinion would prove whether or not she was delirious.
Naturally, Snape chose not to provide her with an answer to this fairly important question. Instead, he did the only sensible, logical, and rational thing given the circumstance: shove her away and take off at a dead sprint after whatever object had so kindly smashed into her.
After she was finished falling all over the wall, Aurora could only laugh, albeit hysterically. Mostly, because she'd never seen Snape run so fast in her entire life.
But also because he was racing after the world's largest, fluffiest snitch…or bludger, she couldn't decide after that.
Punctuating this thought, a crash sounded down the hall that suggested the breaking of glass, and she decided that it might be a good idea to see if Snape hadn't actually been beaten to death by a large ball of fluff.
"Sev…?"
She found him propped halfway out a jagged hole in a narrow window at the end of the corridor, peering upwards. From the looks of it, whatever had taken it upon itself to knock her over had also arrived at the conclusion that propelling itself through a glass window was a splendid idea.
They had to be at least a good twenty stories up, and the way Snape was leaning out over all that distance made her uneasy. Was he nuts? That was a long way down. As in, no chance of survival should he somehow lose his footing or…something like that.
Even if the prospect of his potential death didn't inspire any real agitation, the height itself was enough to make her jumpy.
"Uh…could you not hang out of a window like that? Not sure what I'd tell the Headmaster if you fell out a building at my brother's wedding."
"You might take solace in saying you pushed me," he droned, maneuvering himself back through the sharp opening.
"No, thanks. Azkaban: not exactly my cup of tea."
As he righted himself, straightening his cloak with a brisk tug downwards, he began surveying the window with what she liked to think was a little too much interest. "To the task at hand, we now have what seems to be a…tentative…location."
"We…do? How?" She really hoped it had nothing to do with the window he was now hauling upwards. "Okay, seriously, you gotta tell me—what the bloody hell was that…whatever that was?"
"A puffskein." It was all he said.
She was pretty sure her jaw dropped. It made sense, taking the fluff-factor into account, but…
"You know puffskeins can't fly, right? You're sure that's what it was?"
"The pink one."
"Vladimir?" Sylvester had it perched on his shoulder when they'd arrived—it was his favorite, though at the moment Aurora had a particularly difficult time seeing why.
At the name, Snape pulled what was his equivalent of a face. "The same."
"Look, what's with you and not telling me things? Can I get an explanation? I mean, is that really too much to ask?"
Sighing laboriously, like it actually took physical labor, he turned to face her. He still wouldn't look her in the eye, though, the goblin. "Your powers of perception are of precious little benefit to you, assuming you possess any such capability. Shocking as it must be to you, you are right. Your brother's pet does not have in it the aptitude for flight. Rather, it was summoned."
"…summoned?" Like a Death Eater? So, now Voldemort was recruiting cute, pink fluffy things? Although she might have been wrong about this, world domination via the cute and fluffy just didn't seem like the right (or evil) way to go about it.
"Yes, Aurora. Perhaps you've heard of an accio charm?"
Git.
"Don't think I have, actually. Mind giving a demonstration, maybe on tact? You seem to have lost yours."
Score one for Aurora. Not surprisingly, Snape seemed none too pleased.
Stepping back from the open window, he gestured her towards it with the palm of his hand. "After you."
"Er…" What an awful joke. "I'd prefer to take the stairs, thanks."
"There isn't time for that. From the origin of the charm they appear to be on the roof."
"The…Oh, dear Merlin, you're serious." The roof…? It was convenient. But there was no way he was getting her through that window. No way in hell.
"Quite."
"Severus," she warned. "Don't."
He quirked an eyebrow, dropping his hand to step towards the window. It was when he stepped out of it that she started screaming. The man was insane. He was absolutely certifiable. He was officially a psychotic lunatic. He was demented, crazed, mad, a maniac.
…and alive.
On opening her eyes from having screwed them shut, she was astounded to find him very much intact outside the window, kind of floating there like it was every day he did this sort of thing.
"Wait, hang on…how are you not dead?"
With an amused little almost-smirk at her reaction, he offered her an insistent hand. "My status as a follower of the Dark Lord does provide me with…select advantages."
Such as flying? Merlin, he really was an overgrown bat—she'd known it all along.
"Don't suppose that includes x-ray vision or the ability to shoot spiderwebs from your wrists?"
His eyes narrowed. "Make your choice in a timely manner; I will not hesitate to leave you here."
"No. Severus…Sev, don't make me do this. I can't…I…no. This is crazy. No."
Without having to move his shoulders an inch, he shrugged. His floating away, upwards, sparked in her the courage she needed.
"Wait!" He waited. "I…" There was no way she'd make it up there in time, even if she found an elevator. This was her brother. Annoying and neurotic, yes, but very worth saving. Not to mention Snape. Letting him face that creepy cat veela on his own…without proper supervision and cheerleading…seemed wrong.
Oh, but he was so going to drop her. She could just see it in his eyes.
"Aurora, I do not plan on dropping you."
…okay, that was seriously creepy.
"Are you using legilimency or something? Does your position on You-Know-Who's team of merry men also grant you the power to read people's minds without their knowledge?"
A simple sneer awarded her the answer. "It takes no form of prowess to ascertain the thoughts of someone so very transparent."
Making quite sure he saw her exuberant eye-roll, Aurora decided to take her chances in accepting his offer. Though she was none too thrilled about what this meant for her and heights—incredibly terrified, actually—she figured that she at least owed it to him to have a tiny, small, little modicum of trust when he was going so far as to try to rescue her brother.
"Go slowly, okay? No…backflips, or…barrel rolls…or anything like that."
She was sure she saw him give her a look. Not a look, exactly, but a look.
That look.
They were increasing in frequency, she realized. But then again, maybe she was just seeing things. She was already unnerved enough by the thought of nothing between her and death by unsightly squish but one Severus Snape. Who, for the record, was not her biggest fan.
Ignoring the fact that he'd kissed her, anyway. She was still convinced he was one sandwich short of a picnic, for that.
By the time she was out of the window, she was regretting her decision with something nearing steadfast devotion. As it turned out, the act of not plummeting to her death required her to hold onto him. Who knew?
There was nothing really wrong about this, exactly, except that…everything was wrong about it.
With her arms around his neck in fear for her life, she had no place for her head other than his shoulder, and the rough scratch of the wool in his cloak tickled at her nose. For very well-thought-out reasons, she didn't dare reach up to relieve the itch.
His arms were tight around her waist, too, and she had to concede that at least he was true to his word; with a grip like that, he wouldn't be dropping her any time soon.
If she wasn't so busy being nauseous, she might have noticed the point of heat provided by the flesh of his neck of the way their bodies pressed together so closely as rows of windows rushed downwards at her back.
The moment scattered when they reached the top of the grand building and Snape practically threw her down.
"Ow! Hey, what gi—" Abruptly, Aurora was stopped when Snape shot her a nasty look detailing for her to kindly shut up before he nodded towards the far side of the rooftop.
What met her sight was enough to make her forget how much of a goblin Snape was for the moment. Because between goblins and evil cat veelas, she had to say that goblins were the better choice.
"Larry!" squeaked an overly-excited Sylvester. "And Larry's companion! Oh, marvelous. Just marvelous! Now it really is a party…isn't it my darling wife?"
He was squeezing Vladimir in his arms as he stood at his wife's side, beaming for all the world like nothing was even remotely the matter with this situation. Couldn't live without his favorite pet, could he? He probably thought he was in Burma, too.
Sweet Merlin.
"A confundus charm?" she whispered to Snape, who gave a slight nod.
"It certainly is," Tasha proclaimed in answer to Sylvester. "So glad our guests could make it."
At that, Aurora had to snort. The woman was directly from a D-list supervillain movie.
"He sent you to investigate my loyalty," Snape said. It was a statement.
"He sent me to eliminate loose ends."
Loose ends? Surely Voldemort wouldn't compromise such a valuable asset with…well, death? Death was kind of a huge deal. Death was…a bit of a setback as far as "double" agents were concerned.
Then again, this was Voldemort. He could kill whoever he bloody well pleased. Aurora was starting to think that coming here was a very bad idea.
"I must regretfully inform you that you have been deceived."
"Decieved…?" For a fraction, the cat veela faultered. "No."
"Indeed. If He intended to put me to death it would be done. As should be apparent, his Lordship does not squander his time in games of chase. Your blindness, I'm afraid, had put you at a…disadvantage. He means to judge my reaction and not, I should think, my life."
In an attempt to look suave, calm, and otherwise capable as long as they planned on verbally sparring, Aurora propped herself against the nearest metal contraption of muggle make and made herself comfortable. It didn't exactly help the way she felt, which was rattled and painfully nervous, but she liked to think it made her look more badass.
Snape had a point, but the Astronomy professor didn't much like the smile creeping up his opponent's face.
"Your blindness puts you at a disadvantage," parroted Tasha coolly. "I was not referring to you." Her eyes flicked to Aurora.
Wait…loose ends meant her? Voldemort wanted her dead? Merlin's beard, what had she ever done to him? Besides maybe just teach at a school run by his enemy. But really, there was no way she was that important. She was just Aurora Sinistra, that dorky spinster of a professor that spent her nights pining over Gilderoy Lockhart and her days offending Severus Snape. She could hardly be considered a threat, at least to anyone but herself.
Unless…something Snape had said clicked in her mind. His reaction.
…to her death. Or, the prospect of. …good luck with getting a rise out of him, then.
Holy stars above, they'd had it all wrong. Tasha hadn't tried to get to Sylvester to get to her to get to Snape; she had tried to get to Sylvester to get to her to get to Snape to get to her to get to Snape!
This wasn't about what he'd done—it was about what he would do. …which wasn't much, she knew from experience.
In an instant, Snape was in front of her, his wand drawn. "I would advise you to leave those not concerned in this matter unharmed."
It was flattering, in a way. They actually thought they could do him one better through her. Little did they know, he couldn't have cared less. He was just the nasty goblin that took pleasure in insulting he rand occasionally snogging her in broom closets…it wasn't like he cared for her or anything.
"I," announced Tasha, "will not be harming her."
There was a flash of recognition between them, and Aurora gawped. So that's how it was?
Poking her wand in his direction, the cat veela smiled smugly. "Do it."
"I will not."
Aurora didn't know whether to be confused or relieved.
"Do it, or face the consequences. The Dark Lord is not forgiving."
In hesitation, Snape turned to her, and she could see he meant to follow his instructions. The git. The tip of his want raised to her throat, and his expression was tight. She swallowed. His lips were on her ear.
"Defend yourself, Aurora," he whispered, so quietly she could barely make out the words despite his proximity.
She could have laughed. Fend him off? Engage in a duel with Severus Snape? That was rich. It wasn't like he was making any promises to go easy on her; he was being scrutinized for Merlin's sake. She would be out-dueled, no questions asked. What was he playing at?
Giving no other indication that he was even aware of what he'd just done, he leaned in, his face unnaturally blank. Though she couldn't believe what she was doing, Aurora slipped her wand from its place and felt its smoothness in her palm, tightening her grip as he jabbed at her carotid. The man was barking mad.
His lips parted. She shut her eyes, hard.
"Avada—"
"Expelliarmus!"
Before he'd even finished there was a white flash that sent him sprawling backwards, and it took a moment of blinking and breathing for her to realize that that flash had come from her. She'd just attacked a colleague. She'd just send a colleague flying across a rooftop, defenseless.
Judging by the fact that said colleague was Severus Snape and that she'd actually wanted to do that for a very, very, incredibly long time, it almost felt good.
But good God, he'd actually been about to do it. He'd said avada. Only a fool didn't know what came after that, and contrary to popular belief, she was not. What if she hadn't obeyed him? What if she hadn't readied her wand in time? What if she'd frozen up? He would've killed her.
That atrocious, arrogant, awful bugger had meant to kill her!
"Oh, goodie, fireworks!" piped Sylvester, squeezing his wriggling puffskein tighter, and it grounded her in time to realize that Snape was tangled painfully aroud some kind of metal object and Tasha was stalking towards her.
"Oh, geez, Sev, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"
He glared across at her as he rolled to scoop up his wand, but Tasha reached her first. Something jumped from her stomach to her throat, and before anything could be said she was surprised to find two zaps of magic shimmering out of existence, nullified in collision. Realizing that one of those had been hers, she had to grin.
There was something to be said for remembering third year Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Before she had time to gloat, though, Snape was on his feet, and she had no clue whether he was on her side or not.
As it turned out, she didn't need to worry. Tasha spun and struck at him with something he only barely countered, sending it bouncing back until its potency faded.
What was this, musical sides?
"Nice trick," purred the cat veela. "But you're not one to overlook disarming an opponent, Severus. I gave you your chance. You've signed your death warrant."
Curses danced and glanced between them in a magical hurricane lasting only a few seconds before there was a pause, and Aurora had to roll her eyes. They did realize they were in a muggle district, right?
The Ministry was going to have lots of clean-up duty after this was overwith—they'd be so thrilled.
Conveniently, Tasha knew all about the crazy bat-flight thing; as interesting as it was to watch a couple of blurs blurrily bat each other around, Aurora had to wonder whether the cat veela actually thought that using one of Snape's own tricks against him was going to get her anywhere.
Because, from first-hand experience, she could say it wasn't.
Well, until Tasha proceeded with the most evil of her schemes, anyway, meaning grabbing Aurora and tipping her off the side of the building mid-flight.
As dirty and underhanded as it was, the Astronomy professor wasn't too keen on thinking such thoughts, as she was much too preoccupied in shrieking herself silly and plummeting towards the ground. Honestly, how in Merlin's name did she get herself into situations like these?
It was simple, really. All she had to do was stay away from Snape, and her propensity to attract massive amounts of danger would decrease ten-fold. Was that really so hard?
Apparently, it was.
She was still screeching unintelligibly by the time she realized that she was no longer falling. Black wool tickled at her numb cheecks through the wind shear, and she threw her arms around him before she could remember enough of herself to be embarrassed.
"God, I love you."
It just sort of…came out, and she had the good sense to clamp her mouth shut afterwards. Hopefully, he hadn't heard her. When she felt him tense under her, she knew she had on such luck.
Maybe she could play it off like a joke, something about her falling and him catching?
Almost disappointingly, he didn't have very much to say to the matter.
Of course, that could also have been because the moment he landed, dropping her onto the solid rooftop, Tasha took advantage of his distraction and the fact that his arms were full to send him crashing across metal and brick onto the other side of the building. Sweet of her. She'd planned the whole thing.
Well of course she had.
A couple more of her spells reached him before Aurora could even so much as locate her wand, and they hit him without resistance. He wasn't moving.
What hit her then was a sinking feeling like it was somehow her fault, but before she could take another step towards him Tasha stopped her with a look, making it very clear that if she moved, she died.
What now?
Instantaneously, a twist of the woman's wand had the unconscious Snape dragging upwards into the air by an ankle. It was painful to watch, but even worse to anticipate.
Sweeping the rooftop with a hurried glance, she found her wand lying where she'd dropped it not two feet away and made a note of it. This was going to get worse.
Naturally. What did the woman do then, of course, but fling him off the roof. Really, it should have been expected. How redundant could a person get? It was like her signature move or something, like she'd rather throw someone off a building than deal with pronouncing a few syllables.
How creative.
And Sylvester just sat there, petting his puffskein in wonder like it was a bloody film.
The second the woman looked away to do her bit of flinging business, Aurora dove for her wand. She already knew what she had to do because, to be honest, she'd thought of it the second Tasha had Snape in the air. Call her paranoid, but she had a feeling this was going to happen.
There was only one way to catch something that was falling through the air. She'd seen enough Quidditch to know about it, and it wasn't just as simple as spongifying the ground, because…try explaining to the muggles why their thoroughfare was turned into jelly for three weeks before Joe from the Ministry came to fix it. It wouldn't go over well.
It had to be the adrenaline, because there was no way she would have even just barely entertained the thought of doing this an hour ago.
Thoroughly cursing her brother's wife every which was from Sunday in every language she knew for making her do this—had she mentioned how much she despised heights?—Aurora clambered for her wand, shot a vague "expelliarmus!" in the direction of where she thought Tasha would be, pictured the broomcloset she'd so recently been snogged in, and took a running jump yelling "Accio broomstick!"
Not her brightest idea, she had to admit, but she was a bit short on time at the moment and it wasn't like she could just sit down and think it all out.
For the second time that night, she was falling fast—as if she hadn't enjoyed the first enough. There was an instant of doubt where she wasn't sure that what she'd done was going to work, but then there was the crash of glass somewhere below her (the already abused window, no doubt) and something, a hilt, caught in her hand that she kicked into a solid dive.
There was no knees bent, elbows out, weight on palms. There was no snarky Potions Master to hold onto the handle as she mounted and kicked off. There was only the thought that if she didn't do this, the one thing she hated most in all of the world, then that same snarky Potions Master that had held the shaft and chastised her for not paying attention was going to die.
The irony was not lost on her.
In fact, by now she was convinced that she was just as mad as he was. Willingly jumping off a building proved that brilliantly.
With the velocity that she was pitching downwards, she couldn't tell if the wetness creeping into her hairline was the wind or the emotion. Frankly, she didn't really think it mattered.
For making her do this, she was going to kill him. She was going to save him, and then she was going to kill him.
Somehow, Aurora found the dexterity to catch up to him and buck her flying death contraption into a straight and stable ascent; she had no idea what she would have done had he not already been half-awake, but she had to thank her lucky stars that he was able to kind of loop himself around her back before she started upwards again because having five arms was just shy of her qualifications.
"Guess I do pay attention in class," she hummed over her shoulder, too relieved not to rub his face in it. She was not above bravado when the situation called for it. "Oh, and I have heard of an accio charm, by the way."
Sweet, sweet revenge.
Behind her, he groaned. That, coupled with his hold on her hips, was a feeling she couldn't deny. Okay, so what if Snape was a nasty goblin, she was past denying what he did to her. It had reached the point where he was required to fess up as well; he'd kissed her, and Merlin willing she'd be speaking to him about that later.
Unfortunately, Tasha didn't wait for them to reach the roof to join them. A ragged flapping and a flash that blazed past their heads gave her away, and Aurora passed her wand back to Snape in the time it took them to arrive across from a still dazed-looking Sylvester.
Finding Snape's wand amid the fray meant resorting to her hands and knees, but as soon as she recovered it he took her cue to switch (before he broke hers: the poor thing had probably never endured such heavy magic) and performed a simultaneous tossing event that had her scattering to find where hers rolled off to as he caught his with grace.
Without fail, he was infuriating even when he wasn't trying.
On finally procuring the pesky thing, she was just in time to see them standing stiffly and, if she didn't know any better, staring into each other's eyes.
Okay. Weird.
What, was he planning on frivolously throwing himself at her, too? Was that his idea of a well-thought-out attack?
Except, that didn't make sense. Even for Snape.
Legilimency seemed like her best-bet answer, but…well, that didn't make sense, either. Considering it was what had gotten them into this whole mess, anyway.
"Larry," proposed Sylvester as she rounded on him, "my wife seems to be in a spot of trouble."
No, really?
"I'd say she's given us the trouble."
"Come now, don't be rude. There's no need for that. Don't you love the view?"
…there was no helping him. He really was up there with the clouds.
Another voice startled her, and she briefly contemplated tackling her brother's wife before she turned in time to see the woman nodding civilly at Snape.
"It seems I was wrong about you, Severus."
…um, wait, what? Where was this absurdity coming from? A trick?
"Indeed," was all he said.
It was rubbish. There was no way. As in, beyond insanity. Pure poppycock. Of all the brainless ideas…
Except, well, maybe it wasn't.
The woman slid her wedding ring right off her finger, glanced around as if to say sorry about the mess, and vanished on the spot when she apparated.
…alright, what in Merlin's beard had she missed?
"Sev—" she started, but he stopped her with a look. A look that quickly faded into exhaustion as he sank down near where Sylvester was kneeling and sighed.
She tried again. "Is it—?"
"Yes."
"But…how—"
"My talent extends beyond the ability to sustain your constant torment."
"You mean temptation?"
"Nonsense."
She smiled at his brashness, taking comfort in the fact that she now knew, or suspected, what was behind it. "Right. You know, you're so telling me later. I mean, about what happened."
He quirked an eyebrow, but when he looked her in the eye she could tell he was amused. "Undoubtedly."