"So yesterday was interesting." Antonin began in a very deliberate conversational tone. He didn't wish to insult her intelligence by trying to ply information with roundabout questions and hinting. Being covert would only make her suspicious and she'd never trust him enough to leave her training in his hands. And so he went straight for the jugular, he was much more comfortable in that capacity anyway.

"Mmmm, not so much as you might think." Lilith replied slowly with a pre-made lie. She'd anticipated that he would broach the subject on behalf of the DeathEaters and so had saved Dolohov for her last patient. The headache wouldn't last as long that way. "Just sat home and read all night."

Not to be trusted, she told herself again, though the reminder wasn't truly necessary. Briefly the witch wondered what he'd been like on the outside before prison had run him down. One had only to meet his eyes to see how intelligent he was, well nourished and kept he must have been quite a force to be reckoned with.

In reality she'd spent half the night working with her new wand, testing out how well it worked with her tried and true spells and trying several new ones out as well. Lilith had been so exhilarated by how the vine wood melded perfectly to her palm and seemed to respond to every subtle movement and sound she made with an almost innate desire to please her that she hadn't been able to rest.

"A woman after my own heart, what were you reading?"

Lilith returned the stethoscope to her neck and sighed knowing a ploy when she met one. Their visit had been extended nearly ten minutes longer than the usual amount of time.

"Your lungs sound perfectly fine and you don't seem to be having any trouble talking." the witch gave him a knowing frown.

"I'm telling you they hurt, little one." he argued plaintively.

The witch was much less cooperative than he'd hoped, perhaps he should have used a less measurable ailment.

Lilith shook her head and smiled but still stood to leave. She couldn't encourage this behavior, even as childishly amusing as it was. Antonin was tenacious if nothing else, she'd give him that.

"Why do you use those muggle contraptions when you have a wand?" he wanted to know, hand hovering near her wrist but not quite touching it.

The witch nodded as if she'd expected the question.

"Wouldn't want to lose it at work should I get distracted." Or should someone distract me, Lilith thought to herself. She didn't believe that any prisoner on any floor was above that.

The corners of the DeathEater's mouth curved up into a devious smile, affirming that he himself had thought about trying it.

"So, the book?" he tried to close his hand around her delicate wrist but missed.

"It was just a muggle book." the witch told him as she stepped through the door, which Longbottom quickly closed in his face. "You probably wouldn't be interested."

Dolohov grinned in earnest, today it was Lilith's eyes that glittered with mischief and the promise of secrets untold and it made her glow in a way he found most appealing. She without a doubt knew that he badly wanted to know, that they all did, but wasn't about to reveal anything. He did wonder how much of it was her actually hiding a known secret as opposed to something she didn't want to talk about because she didn't know. The medi-witch had looked to be the most bewildered of them all.

"I may know it." Antonin offered, stalling as best he knew how. "Try me."

"Edgar Allen Poe, do you know him?" Lilith relented, knowing she shouldn't allow herself to be to suckered in but curious to see if he was truly familiar with muggle authors. He lent an air of being above anything muggle.

"I don't." he admitted reluctantly.

He had considered lying but had the distinct feeling that the witch was ready to test him.

"Who's your favorite muggle author?"

"Ralph Waldo Emerson." Dolohov blurted the very first name that popped into his head, he was quickly losing credibility. His mother, to his father's immense dismay, loved Emerson.

"A good read." Lilith lied, she'd never read a fucking word of his, though she'd heard it was good. More than anything she impishly wanted to see how far the DeathEater would take the little charade.

"Must you take up all of Mrs. Rowle's time?" Thorfinn growled from across the way.

He recognized the rarely seen look of cluelessness in his friend's eyes and sprang into action. Giving up on their game, Lilith turned to favor him with an eye roll and strolled a bit closer to his cage, leaving behind a very relieved Dolohov.

"I see my title has been upgraded from future Mrs. to just Mrs."

Rowle was handsome and charming with the thick blonde hair that reached his muscled shoulders and bright blue eyes but that didn't mean the witch had missed the obvious save. He'd been described as what women might call a dog in america and what Granger described as a git in her smart accent.

Longbottom cleared his throat, very anxious to be out of the DeathEaters' presence.

"Are you all done in here Lilith?"

"Yes, thank you. I'm due for my rounds on the fourth floor soon."

The guard nodded and padded off back to the reclusiveness of his office where for the moment it was just him. Since Erons' departure was so abrupt they of course hadn't found a replacement yet.

"You're breaking my heart." Thorfinn insisted, giving Lilith the puppy dog eyes, hands folded over the afflicted area.

"If you're trying to get conjugal visits it won't work." she shook her head at the act and turned towards the exit.

Rowle frowned after her, disappointed that it had been Lilith who'd thought of it and not himself.

"How about you take me into the visitation room for a stern talking to?!" he called after the witch but she was already bidding them goodbye and disappeared into the stairwell.

She was there before him, curled up beneath the large fur blanket and he felt an immediate and distinct longing for her. He could see barely any of her beautiful face, in sleep she was all dark curls, milky white skin and a plump red bottom lip. The wolf knelt down beside her and allowed his hand to gently sweep some of the curls away from her face and smiled his first real smile in an immemorable amount of time. She was the most beautiful witch he'd ever seen and Fenrir didn't know how she'd come to be lying in his bed of all places. Seeing her there though, naked and vulnerable completely at his mercy yet unafraid to sleep in his lair, he knew without a doubt that this was his mate.

In all his years, everything he'd done, everywhere he'd gone Fenrir had never found a woman that invoked such feelings in him. For so long something had always been missing no matter how much he had or what he took. Without her there had been no bonding, no life mate and no cubs, only anger and incompleteness. The human in him had refused to acknowledge it, Fenrir Greyback didn't need anyone but the wolf had been the half that really felt the pain. Looking at her now however neither of them could deny it. He knew without a doubt that he would do whatever it took to protect her and no one would get in his way. The realization made him feel both weak and like unbreakable steel at the same time.

Unable to tolerate being so close yet so far from the warmth of her skin, Fenrir stripped off his clothes and slipped beneath the furs. His rough hand tenderly traced the outline of her face and her soft, parted lips. He wanted to touch her and taste her, to claim her but for the time being he settled for a soft kiss. Fenrir wiggled until he was on his back and pulled a sleeping Lilith against his chest, wrapping both arms protectively around her.