Hello, my lovely readers.

So much has happened since the last time I updated. Good, and bad. College has been a whirlwind, that's for sure. I'll elaborate at the bottom. :)

Chapter 41 is done, and this story has officially broke 500 pages. Whoohoo!

Thank you to everyone who reviewed; I adore you all. Thanks to the people who PM'd me (it's now open guys!) to ask me questions and to give me encouragement to keep writing and to give me advice.

So: sorry for the cliffie. Here's the resolution to that!

Chapter 38

Something was wrong, something tangible that Hermione could almost feel. Someone was coming through the wards on the Safe House, someone impatient and in a hurry. What was confusing was that the person felt like Severus, but a Severus drenched in fear. She had never felt him this way, and it concerned her.

It's probably Draco, she thought, not noticing the throb of pain in her lip from her teeth. He's scared for him. I never knew that he cared about Draco so much. There was a wistfulness to the thought, that awkward envy of her classmate.

There was a slight knock at her door, and Hermione rose to answer it, mentally steeling herself. This was the time to be professional, to not let emotion get in the way of taking Severus' report and analyzing Death Eater movements and plans and the Dark Lord.

"Come in-" Hermione began to say, opening the door, but her words were immediately cut off by Severus' mouth slanting over hers roughly. The door slammed and she was up against it in a moment, her hair barely cushioning the force of his body pushing against hers. Well I guess this just means to fuck professionalism, Hermione thought hazily.

The knobs of her spine flared with pain from the impact as they struck the door, pinned by Severus against her, pressing her down. Her legs were wrapped around his thin waist, her anchor in the storm of his kiss. There was no room to breathe, only the feel of calloused hands around her waist, pushing under her shirt, cupping the back of her neck. Severus was rough, demanding, his hips sharp against hers.

It was surprising, not unwelcome, Hermione decided, curling her fingers into the hairs at the nape of his neck. It was hard to ignore that the smell of blood still lingered, barely covered by the shower soap he had used, or that she suspected he would be shaking if he wasn't pressing her so hard into the door.

Just when she thought she would have to pull away to breathe, his mouth moved off of hers, sucking and kissing her jaw, the line of her neck, behind her ear. The feeling of blood being pulled to the top of her skin stung, a pain that echoed possession and want, a method of marking that was primal and agonizing and sharp. There was nothing gentle about his hungry mouth, just consuming desire- or the desire to consume.

His hands though- his hands at least were gentler. The hand that had slid up the smooth softness of her belly to her ribs was behind her back now, and the hand that had been holding her hair had tilted her head back so her neck was exposed, so that Severus could drag his mouth from her neck to her collarbone unimpeded. "Severus- what-" she tried to say, but then her mouth was covered once more and the kiss had turned desperate, as if he was begging her not to speak.

Slowly Hermione unwound her legs from around his waist, placing her hands on his face instead of around his neck. She gentled the kiss, stroking his cheeks as she pulled away carefully. Her lips felt heavy and bruised, her back painful. Her discomfort was cataloged and put away in a moment, for his seemed greater and more disturbing.

"What is it, Severus?" she asked again, letting her arms come down so that she could embrace him. "What happened?"

He was clutching her tight, and this close and this still she could feel his trembling. Hermione clutched at his back, bunching the cloth of his robes in her fist. His heart was beating fast. She could hear it with her head pressed to his chest.

"I just want to keep you safe," he whispered harshly against her hair. "The Dark Lord wants you dead and he wants Draco to do it."

To her own surprise and certainly to Severus', Hermione felt a light flooding of relief. "That's all?" she asked, letting out a shaky breath. "We knew there would be consequences to the Ministry."

He pulled away from her to look down, his eyes full of anger. "Consequences? This falls beyond consequences, Hermione. Now you are in just as much danger as Potter is-"

"Wrong," Hermione said, patting him on the arm. "It depends how much the Dark Lords wants Draco to be the one to kill me. If it has to be Draco, then I only have one person to watch out for. If not, I'm in even more danger than Harry. However, I am considerably better at defending myself so-"

"This is no a joke, Hermione!" Severus snapped. "Do you know what would happen if I lost you? If the Order lost you? If Potter lost you?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I'd expect they'd get along just fine," she said slowly. "But no one is losing me, Severus. It's just Draco. I can deflect his attacks."

"Which would lead to his death," Severus snapped.

"He is a Death Eater," Hermione said quietly. "And I am an Order member. A high ranking Order member at that, Severus. For this war, for the Order, it is better that he dies than I. We can try to stop that from happening, since you do care about him, but I will not sacrifice myself for Malfoy."

Severus stepped back from her, going to sit in the chair in front of her desk, hunching over and hiding his face with his hands. "I wouldn't ask you to, Hermione," he said roughly.

From where she was, he looked so weary. So terribly, terribly weary. Hermione approached him slowly, going to stand behind him. She put her hands on his shoulders, pushing down on the tight muscles lightly, then harder when he relaxed under her hands.

"I can't imagine how hard tonight has had to be for you, Severus," she said, her voice sad yet steady. "Having to go up before the Dark Lord, risking your life once again. Seeing your godson, whom you care for, being forced to become a murder before he is even a man. Seeing the boy you are supposed to have protected taking a side in a war in which you are fighting for the other side. And then hearing him being given a task that hurts another person you-" her voice stumbled, then stopped.

"Another person I love," Severus said quietly.

Hermione fought to speak past the overwhelming emotion that rose in her throat, filling her lungs. "Another person you love," she repeated. "You've had it rough tonight. So let's give you a break."

Severus twisted in his chair to look at her. "What kind of break?"

"There is nothing absolutely pressing right this instant, right?" Hermione asked. "It's barely six. Let's go somewhere far, far away from here and have dinner. We can talk about anything but the war and enjoy ourselves for a night before we can't any longer."

When he didn't respond, a sinking feeling took over Hermione's belly. Maybe she had moved too fast? "Or we could stay here," she proposed. "I could cook and we could just eat together and then- I dunno. Read. Talk. The bathtub here is brilliant- you could use that to relax a bit."

His dark eyes closed, and he turned back around, leaning back until his head was pressed against her belly. "Actually... dinner would sound wonderful if we didn't have to worry about that Diggory boy."

Hermione laughed softly. "True. What if I cooked and brought it up to my room?"

"Absolutely not," Severus said, his voice not as sharp as his words suggested. "We can go to my chambers in Hogwarts and I can cook properly there. I fear that the most you can make, my dear, is pasta."

A light flush of heat rose in Hermione's cheeks. She had been planning on making pasta- he knew her too well, or had been inside her mind too much. "You need carbohydrates," she protested weakly.

"I need good food," corrected Severus. "Fish. Fish would be good. I could ask the house elves to bring up a nice filet of salmon-"

"If you can ask the house elves for raw fish you can just as well asked them for cooked," Hermione said tartly.

"But when's the last time you've had a Potions Master cook for you?" Severus asked, tilted his head back so he could look at her. "I am a fantastic cook."

Hermione had to stop herself from pouting. "Fine," she said, giving in with a sigh. "But I thought the purpose of this was to get your mind off work. To relax. And your chambers are kind of where we usually work."

Severus made an ironic gesture toward her desk. "And you don't mix room and workplace?"

"I'm not the one who needs to get my mind off things," Hermione retorted. "Come on."

Severus stood, accompanied by a series of pops. "I'm getting old," he muttered. "You know, the castle is empty. All the teachers are on holiday. We could cook in my rooms and take the food anywhere we like."

"The Astronomy Tower?" Hermione suggested. When Severus gave her a withering glare, she flapped a hand at him. "Oh, stop."

"The number of randy young wizard's trying to get under some equally randy witch's robes that I've found up there-"

"Doesn't matter," Hermione said firmly. "We could look at the stars."

He opened his mouth again, but Hermione beat him to talking. "Please?"

For a moment he didn't reply, his jaw working. "Fine," he snapped. "But we're having fish."

Watching Severus make potions was a joy; his hands flew faster than Hermione had known was possible, cutting, grinding, peeling, mashing, stirring, all in swift and elegant movements that used precision and eloquence of movement.

Watching him cook was much the same. The intense expression was nearly identical: the tight line of his mouth, the slight furrow of his brow, the fierce gaze of his eyes. Except... rather than unpalatable potions ingredients, he was staring down at an array of vegetables and a dead fish. Nevertheless, Hermione was quite alright with watching him cook with absolute concentration, occasionally sipping at the glass of elf made wine he had poured her shortly before to order the ingredients he needed from a terrified house elf.

The wine had a heady taste that sank down into her belly with a warmth Hermione enjoyed in the cold of the dungeons. It was rich, with the slightly acrid taste of alcohol and faint flowers. The small amount she had already consumed made her head feel just a touch lighter, as if the lights in Severus' rooms glowed stronger. Perched as she was on his counter, the floor seemed just the slightest bit farther away.

"And that is that," said Severus, a small and satisfied smile gracing his face. "Half an hour to finish cooking and then we can eat."

Hermione smiled up at him, feeling emotion welling up as she did. He looked a bit taken aback at her smile, throwing a quick glance at her wine glass.

"Don't fret," she told him. "I'm just happy."

He raised one eyebrow. "And why one earth would you be happy right now?'

"Because I'm here and because you're here too," said Hermione. "And that is a good thing. Because you just cooked me dinner and we're going to eat it together and have a perfectly lovely evening."

Severus scowled at her, then picked up his own glass of untouched wine. "I'm assuming that if something happens you would have warned me or yourself already?"

"Nothing's appeared to make you unable to have a little wine," Hermione said, checking her watch. "It would be perfectly fine."

With that he swirled the wine once in his glass then drank deeply. She watched intently as his throat moved and half the dark liquid in the glass disappeared. The line of his throat was long and elegant, more than worthy of her intense interest, Hermione thought.

Severus, apparently, didn't. "Why are you staring at me?" he demanded.

"Because you're a strange kind of beautiful," Hermione told him plainly. "Harshly beautiful. Your neck, your hands, your nose..."

The furrow in his forehead deepened. "Perhaps this wine was stronger than I had thought," he murmured.

"It isn't," Hermione said, setting down her long-stemmed glass. "I think things like this normally, but I just don't say them."

He scowled at her. "Then why say them now? If you're not drunk, that is, which I am suspecting-"

"Because you asked me the question!" Hermione protested. "And I'm giving you an honest answer. If you react like this every time I give you an honest answer I might just have to start lying through my teeth." She returned his scowl.

Severus was quiet for a moment, considering. "Fair enough," he said finally. "I do prefer the truth. Although what you told me was far from it."

"What I told you?" Hermione asked. Her scowl had lifted a bit, but now it was back in full force. "What do you mean what I told you was far from the truth?"

She was making him uncomfortable, that Hermione could tell from the hunch of his shoulders and the sudden stillness of his face. "That I'm any kind of beautiful, let alone strangely," he told her tartly. "You of all people should know what is beautiful and what is not, myself being an example of the latter." He paused, then made a small joke in a faint attempt to lighten the bitterness in his voice. "But then again you love that cat of yours and it's the ugliest thing I've ever seen."

Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm not lying to you, Severus," she said quietly, her scowl gone. "I wouldn't do that. And I also know what is beauty and what isn't. I know my cat is an example of the later and you of the former." She sighed again and shifted in her seat, reluctantly raising her eyes to his face. "You don't know what I see in you, Severus."

There was a sudden frailty to his flat expression as pieces of his emotions started to break through. Hermione could read them in his eyes, dark eyes that begged tell me.

"If I just go by the physical, I'll start with your grace," she said, her voice perfectly serious. "Lithe as a cat, elegant, powerful. Your hands move so fast, your fingers are so long." Hermione was unaware that her voice was drifting into dreaminess, losing the serious cast. "I dream about those hands more often that I'd like to admit. And your arms- Severus, I've never felt safer than in your arms. They're strong, they're like iron, and they've carried me to safety so many times."

Hermione had to stop for a moment to compose herself. "Sorry."

"Continue," Severus said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please."

Hermione gave him a weak smile. "And your voice. So expressive. It's low and deep and sometimes when you speak to me I can hear it in my bones, Severus. That voice is in my dreams too, except it's saying words I've never heard you say... I know the tone of it isn't right but as soon as I hear you say those things it'll be in my mind forever. And speaking of minds- your mind is so quick. Faster than mine, full of knowledge, full of sarcasm and tenderness and the farthest thing from gentle- except maybe when you're with me."

"Those aren't things that make a person beautiful," Severus murmured. He was closer to her now. Where she was seated on his counter, he was standing directly in front of her, just about filling the entirety of her vision. She could feel his warmth, could feel the brush of his breath on her skin when he spoke.

Hermione closed her eyes. "Yes, they are," she told him firmly. She could be more definite about it when her eyes were shut, so she kept them closed. "They give reason to your features. You are a harsh, cold person to the rest of the world, you know that and I do to. To them, you are frightening. Your nose, your eyes, the strength of your features. But to someone who has seen the warmth, who notes the elegance, there is pride and strength and courage in your face. I don't care what anyone else thinks, but to me you are the most physically attractive man I've ever had the absolute pleasure of kissing." She opened her eyes and smirked at him.

"I'm the only man you've kissed," Severus told her, tapping her lightly on the forehead.

Hermione's smirk changed into an innocent smile. "And the only one I want to kiss, which is why I'm hoping you'll oblige me."

Slowly he moved closer to the counter. Hermione spread her legs before she had realized it, just wanting him to move closer to her. Severus noticed and smirked; Hermione blushed. Then, quickly, before she could say something, he was there between her thighs and kissing her gently, one hand cupping the back of her head carefully, as if he knew that it was tender from where it had struck the door earlier.

Severus' mouth was soft, his body warm as she arched against him, wrapping her legs around his narrow hips and pulling him closer. With the height of the counter she was barely shorter than him, making it easier to tilt her head and kiss him as properly as she knew how.

He moved slowly and kindly enough that she didn't lose her head in the fierceness of the kiss; rather, she was brought low by the flood of tender emotion and the echo of pain as his hand trailed up and down her spine, brushing the newly forming bruises. There was a thank you and an apology in his kiss, in the way his tongue brushed hers ever so softly, in the way his teeth came down on her lower lip with the faintest of pressures and he spent the next moments soothing the bite.

Hermione tried to kiss him just as sweetly, grateful for the steady stone of the counter and the strength of the man she was wound around. Just was she was starting to regain some clarity in her head, he moved to her neck, kissing softly and with just a small flick of his tongue.

She arched into it and the hand on her back followed, pressing a bit too hard just as she started to speak. "Fu- Fuck!"

Severus instantly froze, his lips leaving her neck and his hands her body as he took a step back. "That wasn't a good 'fuck,'" he said warily.

Hermione grimaced, then bent her arm to try to cautiously touch her lower back. "It was supposed to be," she said regretfully. "I'm just a bit bruised, is all."

It took a split second for the connection to be made in Severus' mind- the way she had moved when walking earlier, gingerly as if something was hurting, the slight rip in the back of her shirt that his fingers had explored briefly.

"Fuck," he swore lightly.

"That wasn't a good 'fuck' either," Hermione pointed out, biting her lip. Her attempt at making the mood lighter failed miserably as he glowered at her.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Severus said formally, moving toward the stove and avoiding her eyes. "My deepest apologies."

With a low sigh, Hermione slid off the counter and onto her feet. "I'm fine," she said, a slight emphasis on the word. "Really, Severus. You didn't mean it, it didn't hurt that much, and I've had worse. It'll be gone in a week." She shrugged, moving out of the way as he removed a tray with a fish surrounded by vegetables from the oven.

He set it down on the stove top too hard and some of the juices sloshed over the sides. "You are not fine," Severus snarled, his back to her. The line of his shoulders was harsh, tense. If she had tried to massage the tension from those muscles, Hermione would have found them hard like stone. "I hurt you badly enough to make you say a word I don't believe I've heard you say before-"

"Bullshit," Hermione said calmly, planting her hands on her hips. "I called you a bloody fuck-wanker when you burned me." Too late, she realized it was a bad example. Severus' face tightened and he began to manually pack the food in a container that would keep it warm on the trek to the Astronomy tower, his mouth a hard line.

"Look," Hermione said with a sigh. "I'm a big girl. I can make my own decisions about whether or not I'm fine. And I have decided that I am fine, based on several things. First, I thoroughly enjoyed getting those bruises. To be honest, I found it a bit exciting. Second, it is true that I've had worse and some of those have been from stupid things like tripping over air. Third, it's not like I lost a finger, Severus. I have some bruises on my back. That hurt just a tiny little bit when I'm getting the living daylights very enjoyably snogged out of me. So I think I'm fine. It's not up to you to decided whether or not I'm okay. That's up to me. Got it?"

Their eyes met like a battle of wills, his desire to be upset with himself fighting against Hermione's utter lack of anger. If she wasn't angry then there wasn't really any reason for him to be angry at himself- so he looked away and nodded once, sharply.

"Good," Hermione said, stretching experimentally. "But if you want to be helpful about it, you can help me rub some bruise balm on them."

Severus shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose sharply, the gesture Hermione had picked up from him. "You are going to be the death of me, woman," he said under his breath. "I've got some bruise balm that I've brewed extra strong. With that they should be gone by the time you eat dinner tomorrow."

Hermione walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing the side of her head to his chest. "Thank you, Severus," she said, keeping her voice low. "That would be lovely."

He cleared his throat and stepped out of her embrace. "Let me go get it," he said, rushing over his words. Even so, none of his flustered speech appeared in the smooth way he left the kitchen, disappearing further into his rooms.

Hermione wandered into the sitting room, looking at her chair, then sighing and going to sit on the sofa. Her chair wasn't big enough for two.

Severus reappeared in an instant, crossing the room to reach the sofa. Hermione turned her back to him, reaching behind her and pulling her shirt up to reveal her back.

"What do you think you're doing?" Severus asked sharply. "But that back on!"

"It's still on," Hermione said, feeling a shred of her patience slip away. "And I can't reach my back! You put the bruises there, you help take them away. I didn't ask you to get the balm just so I can waste half of it trying to put it on my own back."

She couldn't see him, but Hermione knew the exact exasperated and fond expression that crossed Severus' face. However, she could feel the dip as he sank onto the couch behind her. "Thank you," she said, her smile leaking into her voice.

"Don't thank me yet," Severus said, leaning forward so that his voice was low and in her ear. The other hand trailed up her back until it reached her bra. "You have some under here, too." As he spoke, he undid the clasp of her bra, leaving her entire back bare before him.

Severus gazed down at it, a number of feelings roiling in his stomach. The sight of the darkening bruises had quenched the faint ardor that had risen when her back, long and gently curved, had been revealed him.

Reaching into the pot of balm, Severus scooped out two fingertips worth of greenish substance and began to spread it liberally on the darkening areas. Hermione shivered as it touched her skin, letting out a soft noise of happiness as the healing cool sank through her skin and into the bruise.

"I am sorry," Severus said again, frowning even as he rubbed the balm in, taking great care to keep his touch light. "You have to tell me if I hurt you, instead of having me find out when I hurt you worse."

"You didn't exactly hurt me-" Hermione said.

Severus let out an angry huff. "So I'm sitting here rubbing medicine on your back because I like wasting the hours of hot and sweaty cauldron work it takes to make bruise balm?"

She was quiet. "Sorry."

"You'd better be," Severus told her, his voice sharp even as his hands were gentle. "I told you that I'm clumsy with this, Hermione. I don't want to hurt you. Help me learn from it- don't deny it happens. What do you think would happen if I ignored Longbottom blowing up his cauldron in class to spare him the embarrassment? Soon we'd all be dead and smoking."

He finished smoothing on the last dollop of bruise balm, then refastened her bra and lowered her shirt. "Alright, then," he said. "Let's eat before the food gets cold."

"It's cold up here," Severus said, frowning as he examined the Astronomy Tower. Apparently, everything about it disturbed him- the grey stones, the clear view of the sky, and the summer wind that moved Hermione's hair lightly.

Hermione shushed him, throwing a blanket over the cold stones. "I thought you knew how to do heating spells?"

Her answer was a scowl, and an immediate feeling of warmth emanating from the stones surrounding them. Hermione smirked and sat, then patted the ground next to her. "It's much nicer down here," she told him. "Come on!"

Severus handed her the basket and sat beside Hermione, only lessening his frown when she handed him a plate full of food. "Thank you," he said, his voice only just barely on the good side of terse.

Hermione smiled at him. "You're welcome. And you're the one who cooked, after all."

"And?" Severus asked. "Is it good?"

Hermione made a show of finding her fork, then slowly cutting and spearing the fish, lifting it her mouth and eating with far less speed than was believable. He scowled at her again, and she laughed- she was the only person who laughed when Severus Snape scowled at them.

"It's delicious," Hermione told him finally, her smile teasing. "Better than any fish I've ever eaten, actually." At his incredulous eyebrow, Hermione continued. "No, really! My parents never cooked anything fancy, and I usually don't choose the fish here at Hogwarts. This is really, really good."

Impulsively, Hermione leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I'll have to have you cook for me more often."

Warmth blossomed in Severus' belly, warmth that had nothing to do with the sip or wine he had just taken or the spell he had cast on the stones.

To quell it, he took a bite of fish.

It was quite good, if he did admit it to himself. Spiced to perfection, cooked just the right amount of time, and not dry as some baked fish sometimes was. It was losing its heat, yes, but that was just because of the amount of time it had taken to get from the oven to their mouths.

"We need to plan for-" he began to say, but he was cut off by Hermione's stern look and a fork that was perilously close to his face.

"None of that," Hermione commanded, her voice stern enough to brook no discussion. "None. We are not going to talk about work. Anything else, but what we normally do. That's why we're here, on this tower instead of in your rooms."

They were silent for a moment, listening to the quiet that wasn't-quite quiet at all. The wind made odd sounds against the walls of the castle; the Owlery was not far away and the hooting of owls and the sounds of them flapping their wings to defy gravity and soar into the night reached the couple with the wind.

"Do we know how to talk about something other than work?" Severus asked after a moment.

Hermione laughed. "Of course we do. We're just badly out of practice. I'll start. What's your favorite color?" She paused, then looked directly at him and waved her fork at him again. "And don't say black, because I know that's not true."

He cracked a small smile. "I've always liked grey-blue. The kind that's dark and you aren't sure which color it is. And yours?"

"I find I'm fond of green," Hermione said after a moment. "Not light green or the very dark shades, the ones that are in the middle and just look like growing things."

They were both quiet again, enjoying the food and the wine. "The stars are nice tonight," said Hermione, tilting her head to look up at the sky. "Look. Do you know any of the constellations?"

"I took Astronomy, same as you," Severus said, humor in his voice. "The plough, there. Cassiopeia, if I'm correct is just there- below Polaris." He pointed out each star with a long finger, watching Hermione following his hand with her eyes.

"I've always liked that story," Hermione said, looking up at the stars again. "Cassiopeia."

"The vain queen who thought her daughter was more beautiful than the nymphs," Severus murmured. "Why like that one?"

Hermione laughed, but it didn't sound right to Hermione. "At least there was a mother that loved her daughter," Hermione explained. "That thought she was beautiful, that bragged about her because she was so proud of being that child's parent. Unlike other mothers in mythology. Take my namesake for example- Hermione. Helen's daughter. Helen of Troy just left her children for no reason. She didn't love them, didn't care about them. When I explain that I was named after Helen of Troy's daughter, hardly anyone even knew that Helen of Troy had a daughter. The only reason anyone knows who Cassiopeia is was because Cassiopeia loved Andromeda."

Hermione set down her empty plate, picking up her glass of wine, holding it in front of her with one hand as she drew up her knees and wrapped her free arm around them. She looked vulnerable in that instant, Severus noticed, her face drawn and almost angry.

"Your mother loved you," Severus said after a moment of debating with himself. He didn't know if it was the right thing to say, or if she would burst into tears.

The look Hermione gave him wasn't a glare, but it wasn't particularly friendly either. "And you would know...?"

"Because I went through her mind and removed every trace of you from it," he told her, half tartly. "And it was bloody difficult."

Hermione took in the information quietly, taking a large gulp of wine as Severus finished his plate and packed it away with hers. He packed up the small basket, putting it on the stone floor so that he could use the blanket to stretch out. Diagonally was the only way to keep his entire body on the blanket and away from the cold stone, and even then he had to concentrate and elongate the blanket.

He had just finished the spell when Hermione's warm body moved to his side, her head resting on his bicep. "Sorry," she whispered, then pressed a kiss to his jaw.

Severus turned his head quickly, catching her close enough to kiss her swiftly. "She loved you," he said again, caressing her cheek with his hand. "Your father too. They just didn't know how to love a child and a magical one at that."

"Thank you," she said, whispering once more. Hermione shifted, laying next to him so that she could see the stars.

The rest of the night passed quietly in conversation that was barely audible, conducted in soft voices, then whispers, and then kisses. It was only when deep night began to fall and the air grew too cold, that Severus and and Hermione descended, leaving the tower for the warmth of the castle.

"Hermione, dear? Are you home?" The familiar voice called from the entrance to the Safe House, startling Cedric Diggory from his half-doze in front of the fire.

He stood and stretched, calling back, "Sorry, Mrs. Weasley! She isn't here right now."

The slowly fading head of red curls, bustled into the sitting room. "Cedric Diggory! Didn't I tell you that you call me Molly now? How are you, dear? Are the house elves feeding you alright?" She pulled him down, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Cedric smiled at her, following the woman into the kitchen,where she had already placed a large bag full of food. "Yes, they are. When Hermione isn't here, any how. She always gets a little frown on her face when I ask them to do something, so when she's here I've been trying my hand at cooking." He gave Molly a charming grin. "I'm not good at it. Yet."

Molly planted her hands on her hips. "Poor thing! You know you are always welcome at the Burrow, right? You can have dinner with us all. Fleur is still home- you could keep her company while Bill's working!"

"I know," Cedric said, still smiling widely. "Bill wouldn't mind?"

Giving him a sweet smile and a pat on the cheek, Molly shook her head. "Oh no, of course not. And we need to get some food into you. Have you eaten tonight?"

"Yeah," Cedric said, nodding at the sink, where a pile of gleaming dishes were drying. "Hermione's been out for most of the day so Dobby made me some lunch and dinner."

Clucking her tongue, Molly continued to put away food in the cupboards and cold box, far more than what would have ordinarily fit into a bag the size of the one on the table. "Humph. That girl. Always worried about the house elves. I tell you, if I had a house elf I'd be putting it to proper work. Any word on why she was out today? And would you like some cake, dear?"

"Yes, please. A meeting with Dumbledore, or Professor Snape," Cedric answered, accepting a piece of cake happily. "I don't know which. But Snape normally comes here, so I'm guessing Dumbledore."

"Oh?" Molly asked. "Tea, dear?"

"I'll start it," Cedric offered generously. "I can do that, at least, in the kitchen. Or... not."

Molly had taken the kettle from him. "Of course not," she chided. "Sit. I'll take care of it. It's been alright, living here with just you and Hermione?"

It would have taken an idiot to not hear the pointedness of her last question. Cedric turned red, then coughed. "I swear I wouldn't dare touch her," Cedric said, then coughed again. "Sorry."

Molly seemed to relax a bit. "I do say, it isn't proper," she said, frowning down at Cedric. She sat down and handed the boy a cup of tea. "I only found out this morning that it was just the two of you in this house. What Dumbledore was thinking I don't know- a young man and a young lady all alone in such a big house? I thought that Andromeda was here again as a chaperone, but when I Floo'd to see how Nymphadora Tonks was doing she was home! Apparently she's been home and visiting her daughter in the hospital- the proper place, I admit- but I thought you'd at least have a chaperone!"

Cedric took a swallow of tea. "Excellent, Mrs- Molly, sorry. I think Hermione and I are old enough to not need a chaperone, Molly. And besides, I think that if I even thought of touching her the wrong way I'd end up with a hand missing."

This didn't seem to register correctly with Molly; by the way she laughed it was clear that she thought Cedric was joking. "Now, I don't think that Hermione would be so adverse to a little attention from a handsome young man. Although-"

"I'm not kidding," Cedric said seriously. "I wouldn't risk it. And anyway, she doesn't seem to be interested in anything but talking with Professor Snape, reading, and practicing." At Molly's questioning look, he clarified. "With knives. She's a bit too deadly for me."

Molly laughed again. "Hermione wouldn't hurt a fly- she just knows these things in case something was to happen to Harry- Severus went a bit overboard with teaching her, from what I heard."

Cedric shook his head, seriousness still etched on his features. "She's killed people, Molly. You weren't at the Order meeting right after what happened at the Ministry, were you? Remus told me about it- how someone asked Hermione why she killed those Death Eaters and then Snape almost blew up at him."

A fluttering hand went to Molly's mouth. "Oh, Merlin," she breathed. "What? She killed Death Eaters?"

"It's not exactly rare for her to do," Cedric continued. "After the last Order meeting she and Snape went out and got more of them. And in the graveyard."

Now the Weasley matron was pale, and the hand over her mouth pressed down as if she was trying to keep herself from throwing up. "I didn't know! I thought there had just been an accident in the graveyard- and the Ministry of Magic is full of dangerous things-"

"Like scorpions commanded to fatally sting two unconscious men?" asked Cedric. "And the other night wasn't an accident. I heard them talking. It was like a joke for them."

Molly's hand went down, finally, her mouth in a hard line. "How many other people know about this?" she asked.

Cedric shrugged. "Just me, I think. Dumbledore, maybe."

Molly finished up her cup of tea, then stood. "Don't say anything, just yet," she ordered. "I'm going to talk to a few people. And not a word to Hermione."

Cedric nodded shakily. "Al-Alright. Of course."

And so ends Chapter 38.

Well. Y'all might be interested to know I finally gained some experience. And I feel lied to by every description of kissing I've ever read. It was gross and slimy and really, really awkward. He went for it tongue and teeth and everything... despite knowing it was my first kiss. Looking back at how I have perpetuated the stereotype that it all works out perfectly the first time, I cringe. But at the time I thought it was ok and that he was really sweet and something would happen. I was in a happiness bubble Monday night. But...

a) he lives on my hall

b) he didn't text me the entire next two days

c) yesterday morning at breakfast I was eating with hall mates and I found out from everyone laughing about it that he had brought a girl home and kicked his roommate out of the room to have sex with her

d) he still thought it would be ok to text me good morning

So. Yeah. Kissed me on Monday and by Wednesday was already hooking up with someone else. Sometimes, life sucks. Really, really badly.

But other than that, things are going well. My roommate is still amazing and we are pretty much best friends. I don't know if I've described to you how amazing this girl is, but she's the most caring and kind person I've ever met. My classes are going well- my school has a reputation for being very tough and I haven't gotten anything less than an A- yet. It's fall and the school is beautiful.

The next chapter will be up whenever I finish 42. I'll post on my tumblr when I finish it. Your excerpt:

He gave her a wicked smirk. "Want me to kiss it better?"

Hermione's eyebrows shot up to the top of her forehead. "And if I said yes?" She walked toward him, sheathing her knives in one smooth motion.

Thanks for reading! Reviews would be lovely. And send some good vibes my way because I'm pretty miserable right now. And a reminder that I wrote another oneshot that I'm quite proud of called, We Were Ghosts and another one called The One Who Knew which was the prize for the 1,000th reviewer. We're getting to close to this being my most-reviewed story, which makes me happy because it's my favorite of the things I've written!

Ok: Thanks for reading, please review, and I'll see y'all before November's over, I promise.