40
Terror rooted itself deeply in her stomach as she stared at Ollie out of the corner of her peripherals.
Norah took a puff of her cigarette, wishing the simple act would be enough to quell her racing heart, though to no avail.
Her hands trembled so badly, it was a wonder she could hold it steady. She didn't smoke often, just enough to steady her nerves after a particularly harsh full moon cycle most times.
Norah was trying to quit, she really was, the bad habit that it was, but her full moons made it increasingly difficult.
The two walked in silence after a while, until Ollie spoke up quizzically.
"Is this something I'm going to have to be concerned about? How long have you smoked like this, Norah?" he questioned in a seemingly casual voice, though Norah detected the hint of anger and sadness in his tone.
It didn't take a genius like Dumbledore around to tell Norah that Ollie vehemently disapproved of her smoking habit.
She let out a tired-sounding sigh as she chucked the last of her cigarette butt in a nearby trash can, turning her head to the side to blow out the last remnants of smoke so she wouldn't catch Ollie's face.
Nevertheless, Ollie couldn't veil his sniff of disgust and looked away as she breathed out smoke, repulsed.
She noticed and hurried to finish in order to cause her partner no further distress as she shifted their box of leftover Italian food, at least a few days' worths of chicken parm and spaghetti followed with a couple of breadsticks under her arm.
"I know, I know, you don't have to tell me, Brennan," she sighed in a disgruntled voice. "I'm trying to quit, I know it's a gross habit. I just…needed one, Ollie. I'm sorry, it—it helps me to relax, you know? And I didn't really start it until last year when my…" she paused, not sure how much of her home life she could reveal.
The truth was, she'd turned to smoking cigarettes as a stress relief whenever Greyback's physical and mental abuse got to be too much. She swallowed past a lump in her throat and continued.
"When my home life got to be too rough, it's the only thing that helps take my mind off the edge, things I'd rather not think about," Norah apologized, shooting him a pained look.
She smiled, hoping to lighten his burden, though his face fell.
She swallowed, not wanting to talk about Greyback, and immediately steered their conversation in a new direction.
"You weren't kidding about their food portions, Ollie. Between the two of us, I think this is dinner for the next three nights at least during night duty," Norah teased, turning her head back around to look at Ollie playfully and froze, not sure she liked the way Ollie was looking at her just now, his blue eyes burning in intensity. "Wh—what?" she stammered, her tongue suddenly feeling thick in her throat. "Did I say something wrong?" Norah squeaked in a breathless voice. "I ruined it for you, didn't I?" she growled in a bitter voice, turning her head away sharply, hot shame marring its way onto her face.
"No, y—you didn't, it's not that, it's just…I'm happy you said yes to letting me take you to dinner tonight, Norah. More than…more than you know," he quickly responded, a light pink blush speckling along his cheeks.
Before he could stop himself, Ollie lifted a finger and ghosted the appendage just barely along the surface of her cheek, not stopping until he reached her slightly exposed collarbones, thinking his new partner and date for the night was a vision of loveliness in her new pink short-sleeved maxi dress that he knew Tonks had picked out for her.
Her makeup was simple and natural, her lips coated in a light clear gloss that gave them a healthy sheen and emphasized their fulness.
He was briefly tempted to trace his finger along her lips, to see if they were as soft as they looked, but he managed to restrain himself from doing it.
Recognizing his gaze was fixed on her lips for longer than was perhaps necessary, Ollie lowered his eyes and took one of Norah's hands in his own.
Their fingers slotted together snugly, perfectly, like missing pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, and Norah sucked in a cold breath of autumnal air at the unimaginable warmth of his rough, calloused palm.
Ollie stepped closer, waiting for Norah's reaction, unable to tell if his new partner enjoyed holding his hand.
But Norah couldn't even decide.
Couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think about anything else except how nice it felt to have Ollie hold onto her hand like this, so tightly yet gentle at the same time.
So…so…warm.
Norah opened her mouth to argue, to say that she didn't think this was a good idea for the two of them to hold hands in public as they walked down Shaftesbury Avenue towards a park that was sure to be closed after hours.
For his safety, she told herself. Just in case another witch or wizard recognized what she was and tried to give Ollie a hard time about keeping company with a disgusting, wretched werewolf like herself, but the words never left her lips. Her tongue refused the words' release as she gaped.
Ollie took this as a good sign and stepped even closer, his somber expression turning into a soft and hopeful smile.
"See? A little hand-holding won't do you any harm," he protested lightly as Norah tried desperately to pull her hand out of his grasp, not wanting anyone to see them. "Just hold my hand, and I promise I won't kiss you at the end of this date if you don't want me to. I won't touch you if you don't want me to, Norah. I swear it."
His words were solemn, but his lip stuck out almost pleadingly as he looked towards Norah, awaiting her answer.
Ollie drew in a deep breath, growing seemingly visibly frustrated now that their date was almost reaching its end.
Norah felt a surge of guilt start to seep through her stomach.
It wasn't that she didn't want to kiss Ollie; she actually wanted to do that so much that it felt like a physical need.
"Well, maybe we should just—" she started to say, though her Order partner immediately shushed her by pressing a finger to her lips, and immediately she fell quiet.
As Ollie lowered his finger, she took in the sight of her partner in his black woolen sweater and khaki trousers that showed off his broad but lean form, his short thick jet-black hair recently trimmed.
He'd shaved too, his beard close-cropped, framing his strong, angular jawline, though it was his piercing blue eyes that were the man's best feature aside from his hair, she thought.
She didn't admittedly know what she expected from Ollie, but it definitely wasn't to feel the former Slytherin tighten his hold on her hand as he dragged her away towards the park and say, "My parents ignored me too. Too busy being drunk and bastards to care about their sons. I wonder what's worse. Caring too much or not giving a shit at all?"
Norah blinked hearing Ollie's bitter words as she stared up at the tall pale man in amazement.
How anybody could ignore Ollie Brennan was beyond Norah's ability to comprehend it, and not just because he was a handsome man, if not a little bit intimidating.
Norah squeezed his hand back. If they really were meant to be together, Norah made a silent vow that she would never let Ollie feel like he was being ignored, and even if nothing came of this, then they were gonna have—
"Wait, where are you taking me, Ollie? Where are we going? This isn't the way back to Headquarters!" Norah squeaked as she realized they were heading towards an old, abandoned park once they Disapparated once they were a safe distance away from any prying eyes or curious Muggles.
She blinked as her dizziness slowly melted off her. She'd never liked Apparition, it always made her sick.
"What the hell's going on, Brennan?" Norah begged, sticking out her lip in a pleading and adorable little pout. "Tell me!"
He turned, half of his face bathed in shadow, allowing for Norah to get only a brief glimpse of his pale features in the dim light of the late evening.
"I hope you don't mind if we make a pit stop before we head back. There's an old homeless lady wandering at the far end of the canal in this part of the country. Tonks's department has had a couple of complaints about it. I figured since it's on our way back, we could stop and check it out. A witch, the local kids here are calling her. I want to see if the rumors are true. If I know how these things work, it's probably my grandma stirring up trouble. Nevertheless, I want to check it out for myself."
Ollie snorted and rolled his eyes in jest, turning his head away in time to miss his date's face paling in anger and shock at the mention of that hag.
Norah inwardly cringed at the mention of the old Russian bitch Baba Yaga, still hardly daring to believe the Slavic legend was Ollie's grandmother.
She shuddered as a chill went down her spine, though had no time to dwell on these feelings as the vivid and disgusting images of Ollie's grandmother soured the remnants of her chicken parm and breadsticks inside her stomach.
"Ollie, I—I don't think this is a good idea," Norah murmured frantically as a stab of terror pricked at her heartstrings, yanking out of his hand.
As reluctant and irritated as she was becoming at the sudden break in their date night, Norah couldn't bring herself to Disapparate without him.
Something deeper inside of her than the chicken parmesan she'd just consumed told Norah that she couldn't leave the man out here alone. It was something sudden, primal, and howling.
It took Norah a moment to realize it was the she-wolf within her mind, her wolfish instinct to protect her partner.
She couldn't leave without Ollie. Besides, Tonks would probably kill her if she came back to Grimmauld Place without Brennan.
Out near the thicket of the canal, further away from the water, Norah squinted her eyes, allowing her heightened wolfish senses to take over. She smelled her.
This newcomer smelled of biscuits, strangely, and then Norah spotted her.
A swaying, tall, stooped figure in black. Norah let out a yelp as she skidded to a halt to avoid barreling over Ollie, running into his back.
Norah jumped back, apologizing with a bright pink blush coloring her entire face, and waited for Ollie to speak.
His burning blue eyes looked at the coloring of Norah's cheeks with a strange interest, but he looked away soon enough for it not to be too weird, and back to the witch.
But Ollie, Merlin damn the man, showed no signs of wanting to leave, instead approached the old woman who was now lowering her veil. Puffy, pasty features that gave the crone a pallid appearance.
Older than Ollie's grandmother. Greying, dead wispy hair, and a mole on her cheek.
Norah's heart leaped up into her throat, and for a moment, she thought she might just vomit.
"Oh, hell, this cannot be happening right now. Ugh, why me? Isn't this a job for Tonks?" Norah murmured darkly under her breath in disbelief, wide-eyed as Ollie spoke in too low a tone for her to make out what was being said, the words exchanged between the two, his back to Norah.
Ollie's hoarse voice carried underneath the billowing water of the canal as he spoke to her. And then, he turned at the waist and motioned wildly for Norah to join them where they stood.
Don't be a wimp, Norah inwardly complained. She blew out a deep breath and steeled her nerves, walking forward slowly in a guarded manner with her head held high and posture stiff.
The old witch clad in black lace was not as tall or ugly as Norah had first assumed her to be.
Sure, she had plenty of wrinkles, whoever this stranger was, and a rather bulbous nose, but no scars or disgusting warts or anything like that.
The young werewolf was too mesmerized by the sheer sight of her to take in the sight of the sewing needle in the crone's hand, up until it pricked her fingertips, drawing droplets of blood.
"HEY! WHAT THE HELL, LADY?!" Norah shrieked as she jerked out of the unnamed witch's iron-clad grasp, very nearly sending her mind and body into a hyperventilated panic attack as a droplet of bright red blood welled from her thumb.
She immediately brought it to her lips and sucked at it, squeezing her blue eyes tightly shut.
"Norah, relax!" Ollie shouted over her, but it sounded as though he were fighting against the urge to laugh at her, cradling his own bleeding thumb. "It's her payment. She's a fortune teller!"
"B—but you didn't say she was gonna TAKE OUR BLOOD, OLLIE!" Norah bellowed.
She swallowed thickly down at the sight of the blood welling from her finger, feeling bile rise in her throat. She gagged and tried not to puke. "Ugh, Ollie, I—I think I'm going to puke…"
Her vision swirled at the edges of her eyelids for a moment, as Norah panted and shut her eyes, doubling over, and trying not to vomit.
Norah let out a low, wolfish whine from the back of her throat when Ollie's hand cupped the back of her neck, squeezing down gently as she slowly but surely straightened her gait, glowering at Ollie as she lifted her gaze to meet her partner's.
Seething with rage, her temper flared, and the words poured out of her lips before she could stop it.
Her previously good mood at how well their date had gone up to this point plummeted.
"You're so dead. If this is your idea of a good time on a date, Ollie, this is bullshit, and we aren't going out on a second date if you pull something like this again," she snapped as she narrowed her eyes, though the older witch's raspy voice interjected what she'd been about to say next.
"Three questions, you two." To everyone's immense relief, Norah's eyes were still closed as the crone hungrily licked at the blood from the needle or she would have puked. "Ask."
Ollie furrowed his dark eyebrows over to the older witch, confused.
It wasn't Baba, he knew that much, but what was she doing down here?
"For her and me? Three for each of us, then?"
"Three." The witch raised an almost non-existent greying brow in a challenging manner Ollie's way. "You may ask only three questions."
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, this is bullshit," Norah growled, her teeth grinding as she felt the wolf within her mind growl and restlessly pace, agitated.
She glowered outright at both Ollie and the homeless witch and then to her bleeding thumb. It wasn't her thumb's fault she was ticked.
"Will either one of us be known in the wizarding world? Famous?" Ollie blurted out in an amused tone, sounding like he wasn't taking this at all seriously as he shoved his hands in his pockets.
"She will," the hag said in a reedy-sounding voice, her gaze fixated directly on a still-glowering Norah, whose face paled and lost its color in shock. "By those that she associates herself with, dear."
Ollie frowned, his frown creating a deep groove near his mouth as it tugged his lips down.
"What the hell does that mean?" he barked.
"It means what it means, boy. Two left," the witch retorted in a clipped and curt-sounding voice.
Norah shot Ollie a withering look that would have had the ability to wilt a fully-bloomed rose, her upper lip curling to reveal her sharpened incisors.
"Merlin's Beard, Ollie! Will you please just stop asking this old lady dumb questions already and let's just get out of here! I—I'm ready to leave," Norah mumbled in a shaking little voice, running a sweat-slicked and trembling hand over her chin as Norah actively tried to avert her gaze from Ollie.
But, as he was quickly proving to Norah, her new partner in the Order didn't seem to want to listen to good sense, even when it came from her.
He turned back towards the heavily veiled witch with a sarcastic, smug smirk on his features.
"Who am I getting married to?" he demanded in his rough and grating tone, letting out a snort through his nose as he heard Norah's audible gasp of surprise as he queried the witch.
The old crone examined the Legilimens' pale countenance for a long time in silence before finally providing an answer.
"You will not marry, boy," she responded coldly in the same apathetic tone, breaking the awkward silence that had settled between the three of them underneath the canal.
Norah's blue eyes widened as her ears perked up upon hearing Ollie's gasp of anger.
She went between watching Ollie and this other witch, a fraud though she probably was, as she clutched onto her dark lacey shawl for warmth, tightening it around herself to protect her failing body from the bitter autumnal October breeze that wafted through the air.
And for some reason that Norah couldn't understand, they still hadn't left here yet!
"Why not?" Ollie insisted in a low and dangerously quiet voice, his fists bunching up at his sides, his body starting to tremble in agitation.
Oh, god, oh, no, not this again, Norah thought pleadingly to herself. Just calm down, Ollie. Please…
"Ollie, let's just go!" Norah pleaded, having to raise her voice to be heard over the gust of wind as she futilely tugged on the man's sweater sleeve, but it was no use.
The wizard didn't budge an inch.
"Because she does not want you, boy," the hag interrupted, her clouded green eyes squinting until they were mere slits in malicious intent. "She does not want you in the way you want her."
Norah blinked owlishly at the old crone, her lips twisting upward and her thin eyebrows furrowing together in confusion as she tilted her head to look at Ollie.
"Ollie, what the hell is this old hag talking about?" Norah snapped meanly.
But the witch spoke up in her raspy tone before Ollie could say anything as his burning blue eyes, lit with a smoldering, fathomless rage, rested on Norah. she couldn't be sure, but she swore something in his gaze softened as he looked at her.
"I speak of the one from an unfinished drawing, pretty little witch. The light and love in his life," she sneered, erupting in a cackling bout of laughter.
What little color was left in Ollie's face drained out of his cheeks as a muscle in his jaw jumped in anger.
Norah watched, a stab of fear pricking at her heartstrings, as he went from infuriated and into shock, his lips ebbing into an obviously pained grimace that was a faux smile.
"This is stupid," Ollie gruffly announced, much to Norah's growing confusion, keeping his blue eyes fixated solely on her. "You're right, Norah. Come on, let's get the hell out of here…"
He turned his back on the witch and called for Norah to follow him in his hoarse voice, though before Norah could follow after him in alarm and surprise and no small amount of confusion, the hag's voice called after her, dangerously quiet.
"One left," she hissed, pointing towards Norah with a blackened fingernail that made Norah shiver, the hairs on her neck standing up.
Ollie stalked his way back up towards the street, climbing up the hill and repeating Norah's name, stopping halfway when he realized she wasn't following him.
He froze and fell silent.
Norah wracked her brain for something to ask the witch. She didn't believe in fortune-telling unless the witch was an actual Seer, and she wasn't getting that sort of vibe from this witch, but nevertheless, the words left her lips without her permission, her mouth no longer listening to her brain.
"I want to leave London. I don't…I don't want to see my father anymore and I don't want to come back," Norah explained breathlessly in a shaking voice, transfixed by the slow and winding circle her gnarled, arthritic finger was making. "I want to know when that happens," she whispered.
"Soon." It was the only thing the hag said.
Norah breathed out a sigh of relief as the emotion overcame her, the tension in her shoulders slowly leaving her. Norah snapped out of her haze, blinking.
"But not forever," the old crone continued speaking, seemingly oblivious to Norah's discomfort. "You were born in Great Britain and so you shall die here, protecting that which you love, that which vexes all women like us, dear."
Norah blinked, her brain feeling like it was shutting down, no longer able to form a coherent thought.
Her eyes leaked hot, gushing tears that stung and marred at the edges of her blurred vision.
"You shall die in the arms of your lover, cold and mangled, bleeding out." The witch's pale and spindly fingers wrung towards the column of Norah's throat. "Left to rot, little pretty she-wolf!"
Quicker than Norah thought possible, the old crone who had taken her and Ollie's blood covered the distance between them, roughly six feet, and backhanded the werewolf across her face.
The razor-sharp edges of her rings on her fingers cut cleanly into Norah's soft flesh as they made contact.
Norah cried out in both pain and surprise, staggering backward, raising a shaky hand to the right side of her face, already feeling where one of her rings had cut her, leaving a welt.
The sticky wetness dripped down her cheek, a substance that smelled coppery. Her blood.
Norah was unable to stifle the reflexive gag that left her lips as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she forced them not to fall from her lids.
She would not allow Ollie to see her shed tears. Norah squeezed her eyes shut as she heard Ollie splutter and stammer in his own shock and surprise at what he had just seen with his own eyes.
"HOW DARE YOU! WHY, YOU FILTHY BITCH! LET GO OF HER, YOU BITCH!"
A huge rock sailed in the air, hitting the veiled witch squarely at the front of her temple.
She let out a shrill, high-pitched shriek, unable to dodge the second and much bigger rock that hit her left cheek, causing a bleeding gash to form, blood slowly trickling down her dirty cheek.
Norah could faintly hear Ollie's voice and felt warm, clammy hands on her, tugging her back up the hill and away from the homeless old witch.
Miraculously, somehow by a miracle of Merlin, Norah's legs began working again, albeit rather shakily, and she allowed Ollie to escort her to the top of the hill, not stopping or even protesting as his hand wound tightly around her waist as they Disapparated to an abandoned park.
Ollie glanced around frantically, his eyes darting to the left and right, seeing only the emptied playground, praying they hadn't been followed.
"What the hell was that?" he screamed.
Pain throbbed and pounded within Norah's throat as she frantically gulped in breaths of air, her breathing erratic in her chest as she doubled over and tried not to vomit or look at the blood.
"Norah? Nor?"
Norah flinched at the use of her mother's nickname for her, though coming from Ollie it sounded…nice, and it was even more of comfort as his calloused hands wound tightly around her shoulders, getting Norah's attention.
He talked in a softer and more steady tone to his partner, holding up his pallid face to hers and never once cracking some smart-ass joke meant to tease.
"Norah, look at me. I'm right here by your side. It's over. It's all over, you understand?"
As if to prove his point, he pulled his wand from the back pocket of his khakis and wordlessly summoned his Patronus, a huge black mamba snake, slithered its way through the air, seemingly in the direction of the Ministry of Magic, no doubt intending to send a message to whichever Auror was still on night duty.
"The Aurors are coming to pick this woman up. I—I don't know what her deal is, but she's done tormenting people and taking their blood," he growled angrily through gritted teeth.
But it wasn't over. It wasn't.
Norah knew it, and she would know it deep down in her chest as this encounter eventually faded and howled irately.
"A—are you alright?" he stammered, still speaking to Norah in a soft, non-judgmental tone.
"Yeah," Norah replied in a nonchalant voice, though her light tone suggested otherwise to him.
She lightly shrugged out of his grasp and collapsed onto the grass as the strength left her legs, rolling over onto her back and stared up at the stars.
If Ollie was startled, the man hid it well.
"I—I just…need a minute before we go back," she gasped, stiffening as she felt Ollie set down their box of leftovers on the ground beside her as he joined her on the grass in the empty park.
"I'm sorry, this—this is all my fault, I should never have brought you here, Norah, I—I don't know what I was thinking," he apologized, propping himself up by using his elbows to hover over Norah, and the intense heat she found his gaze made Norah's heart speed up and her breaths catch in her throat.
The way her date was looking at her just now was more overwhelming than Norah could have ever imagined. She swallowed down past a lump in her throat and nodded.
"It's fine, it's not your fault, Ollie," she whispered in a hoarse voice, unable to look away.
"You always hurt the ones you love," he growled, collapsing his head back down onto the ground, not noticing Norah's look of surprise.
Love. Love.
The word plastered like a quiet vibration underneath her skin and made it crawl, though not out of revulsion, but of pleasure.
He was glaring up at the sky like it had offended him.
"I knew this was a stupid idea…" he snarled through gritted teeth, turning his head back to the side to look at Norah. She shivered.
Something about the way Ollie was looking at her had her stomach in twisting knots and loops. Norah could hardly breathe.
Ollie's piercing pale blue eyes were fixated and focused solely on her, just her, that Norah had no idea what to do.
But then, his eyes flickered down momentarily, settling, and lingering on her lips, and suddenly, it hit her square in the chest. He might as well have pointed his wand at her and hit her with a well-aimed Knockback Jinx for all she felt.
What this was all really about.
Her heart raced even faster, almost painfully, but a wonderful pain.
The kind of pain Norah wanted to feel for years, knowing that a man was the cause behind it.
"I…still think you should go for it," Norah whispered, raising a hand to rest on Ollie's shoulder, knowing damn well what she was talking about.
Her gentle touch seemed to jolt the tall man out of his reverie of whatever self-deprecating thoughts were swirling in his mind like a tempest.
A breath passed between the werewolf and the Legilimens as Ollie merely stared at Norah, stricken, his expression an unusual combination of fear coupled with just a twinge of uncertainty.
She wasn't sure since meeting the older man if she had ever seen an expression on his face quite like the one he wore now, but if he had, he hid it well.
Ollie drew in a sharp breath, his nerves falling away like water over rocks in a split second.
"Maybe I will," he whispered, his voice heavy with desire for the celestial-like creature he was hovering over on the ground. "Just remember you said it, Norah Jameson, not me," Ollie teased.
"What are you—"
But the words died on her lips, silenced by Ollie's mouth slowly as if in a trance, descended and pressed against Norah's lips.
For a moment, the only thing Norah could think of was her father's damning plan of revenge against the man who was now kissing her, and her part in all of this.
But all those fears bled away the moment Jameson realized she didn't give a damn.
The only thing she could think of was kissing him back. She hoped he didn't care that she probably tasted like cigarettes, but it was intoxicating.
Norah wrapped her arms around Ollie's neck to pull the man down even closer, her slender fingers digging into his short black hair, comfortable with Ollie's weight pinning her down to the ground as he shifted himself on top of her.
His knee slipped in between her own, a hand found its way to her waist, his fingers gripping painfully tight onto the waistband of her dress for support, and Norah's only thought that mattered at the moment was she never wanted this moment to end.
"Took you damn long enough to make a move, Brennan," Norah teased huskily, unable to keep from smiling happily as Ollie bent to press gentle kisses all along the edge of her throat, even lowering his lips to graze against the mangled red, jagged pink lines of her scars on her collarbones and near her chest. "What kept you?"
"Hey, I never heard you say anything either, Jameson," Ollie reminded, feigning hurt feelings as he nuzzled Norah's slender nose with his own.
Norah could only laugh, having no response prepared. The only thing she could do at the moment was to pull Ollie down for another demanding and hard kiss that was more teeth and tongue and just as deliciously sweet as their first.
Norah couldn't be sure, but she could almost taste the question burning on the edge of his tongue, an invitation, an unspoken desire so strong that words weren't even needed to ask it.
Now she knew the reason behind Ollie's surly mood the last couple of nights, what had been bothering Brennan now.
She could feel it in the almost possessive way his fingers wound their way around her waist and drifted up to press into the back of her short blonde hair, pressing in softly.
She felt it in the way Ollie trailed tender but demanding kisses down her throat before bringing her knuckles to his lips for a chaste kiss. Ollie Brennan was a man who never half-assed anything.
So, when he whispered in a barely audible voice, "Be mine, Norah? Will you be my girlfriend?" against her skin, causing it to break out into goosebumps, Norah could only nod as her eyelids fluttered closed.
Separating in this day and age with Lord Voldemort on the rise to power was dangerous, to say nothing of her own father would surely kill her if she refused, this was all part of his plan, after all.
But more to the point besides, Norah knew she wanted it, and there was nobody she would rather have as a boyfriend than her Order partner.
Ollie laughed, feeling a wave of relief, lowering his lips to hers and kissing her fervently. He released his ironclad grip on her only when Norah pulled back slightly to pant for breath.
Ollie playfully regarded Norah then, blue eyes twinkling in the starlight, his face flushed high with color, his black hair wild and disheveled.
He bent to kiss along the edge of Norah's jawline, humming thoughtfully as he did so. Norah furrowed her brows in slight suspicion as she stared at him, letting her fingers sift through his hair before pulling her hand back and resting it against his hair.
"What? What's that look for?" And she was instantly rewarded with a soft smile that she knew was meant for her and her alone, a look that she would cherish for all eternity.
"I can't be happy that you're my girlfriend?" he teased, shooting her a blindingly white smile that sent her heart careening against her chest, her heart pounding so damned audibly loud, Norah was surprised the Legilimens didn't hear it for himself.
"Sure took you long enough to ask," Norah breathed as she propped herself up on her elbows, and then she was kissing Ollie.
It was rushed, hot, desperate, and clingy, but Norah could feel the heat and care and love and knew without a shadow of doubt in her mind despite greyback's plan, what was happening between her and her new mate was right.
That Tonks had been right when she said she would know when she'd been helping Norah get ready earlier if Ollie would kiss her tonight.
And as Ollie reached down and wound his arms around her middle with slightly trembling hands as they rose to their feet, still kissing, she couldn't believe she hadn't realized it from the start.
A few stragglers out for late-night walks were staring and pointing as Norah pulled her partner down for a searing kiss that Ollie melted into immediately, but she couldn't bring herself to care.
Let them talk, she thought angrily, keeping her eyes squeezed tightly shut.
It was back again. This sense of rightness, that feeling she had gotten in St. Mungo's when she'd held Ollie's hand.
That this was how things were supposed to be, that feeling she'd gotten right from the start, as volatile as their partnership in the Order had become, she decided she wouldn't change it for anything.
She broke apart and rested her forehead against his, smiling shyly up at the Legilimens.
My new boyfriend, she thought wildly.
"Don't you dare kiss another witch, no matter what the reason is? Only me from now on, Brennan, you hear?" Norah growled.
Norah tried to sound firm, but her shaking words came out more like a plea as she swallowed down past a lump in her throat.
"Wouldn't dream of it, Nor," Ollie promised in a husky whisper, his forehead pressed against Norah's so their hot breaths could mingle. Neither were quite ready to Disapparate back to Headquarters just yet.
Ollie smiled gently at Norah, her fingertips slotting perfectly with hers as he leaned in slowly for another kiss, this one gentle.
He did not feel alone or unwanted anymore and never would again. He had Norah in his life. He would always have Norah.
Finally, everything felt right.
The new couple was so engrossed in one another as Norah wound her arm around Ollie's bicep, allowing him to escort her back, that they failed to look to the left.
For if they had, they would have noticed both Fenrir Greyback and Baba Yaga step out from the shadows, watching their daughter and grandson respectively as they Disapparated from the park.
Sure took them long enough to make it official XD. Coming up, Norah realizes Ollie is her mate and asks to mark him as hers, & Norah helps Tonks shop for a wedding dress.