Author's note: Thanks for reviewing go to harryforeva and OtherHiccup. *huggles*

Chapter 35: No Regrets at All

Yes, I've done my evil
I've done my good
…And there's no regrets at all

—HIM: You are the One

Three days later, Sariss felt much stronger again, meaning she could already walk into the study and slump into an armchair by the fireplace alone—not that it wasn't nice to be carried by Severus where she wanted to be taken to—or for that matter, not wanted to be taken to. One of the places she'd rather not see again in the following years was—among others—the hospital wing where, during the time of her recovery, she was supposed to show up every day in the evening.

Madam Pomfrey had requested that Sariss come to the infirmary at regular intervals so she could be given another potion if necessary. She had taken one look at the expression on Sariss's face and then she'd asked, "Getting bored, are you? That's a good sign. Only people who are perfectly healthy get bored when they are pampered like you are." That remark had earned her a smirk from her patient.

"So I can tell Severus now that it's not necessary to spoon-feed me any longer?" Sariss asked in a perfectly serious voice.

Madam Pomfrey had a look on her face that couldn't quite be defined. It hovered somewhere between astonishment and horror. "Tell me you're kidding. Tell me she's kidding, Severus." She pleadingly looked at the Potions master who only shrugged and smirked.

"Okay. I'm kidding," Sariss said.

"Seriously," said Madam Pomfrey.

"I am serious."

"You are obviously not. I always thought you were Sariss," Severus said, a tinge of horror in his voice. "What have I gotten myself into?"

"Come on, that joke is so old, it has a beard longer than Dumbledore's," Sariss muttered.

"Couldn't resist. A joke about Black's always worth the time."

"You're such a child sometimes."

"Why, you're a baby."

"Am not."

"I remember an occasion when you admitted it very freely."

"That was just on the whim of the moment."

"Now, now, children," Madam Pomfrey good-naturedly put a stop to this not so very eloquent conversation. "You're as good as new, my dear. I'd say a few more days of a little rest and a bit of fresh air will make sure you're fit as a fiddle when the celebrations are on."

"Celebrations?" Severus and Sariss asked as one.

"Yes, the headmaster announced it at breakfast. He might not have found the time to inform you about it yet since he's been quite busy lately. On Saturday, there will be a huge feast celebrating the fall of the Dark Lord. It will also be the graduation party that couldn't take place earlier for… um… quite obvious reasons… Many people will come to congratulate you and—."

"I don't want to be congratulated. I don't even want to think about any of this. I'm just glad it's over."

"My dear, what you did was something incredibly brave and—."

"What I did was something incredibly stupid! Only I was too blind or too thick to realize that! I don't know what came over me."

"Two out of three, love," Severus said. "It was stupid and you didn't exactly care if it was or wasn't. But as to what came over you… I'd say the fates came over you." He rolled his eyes. "I sound like Trelawney, that old bat…"

Sariss sighed. "Remember the conversation we once had?"

"Which one?"

"The one about locking ourselves up in a nice and comfortable room and never ever come out again. I'm all for it."

"It won't be that bad," Madam Pomfrey tried to reassure her.

"It will. I just hope it doesn't get as bad as it went with Harry Potter, everyone wanting to shake my hand and all."

"Oh, I think you'll be mentioned in the same sentence. The only advantage you have is that you don't have a scar on your forehead—and that you have a 'scowling and sneering Potions master' with you," Severus muttered dryly. "I could put the sneer back on for you…"

"That could indeed prove an advantage. With your scowl firmly in place it's unlikely for anyone to ever dare come near me," Sariss said in a tone of voice that equalled Severus's. "I just hope they realize that it wasn't me alone. You and Harry could draw a bit of attention to yourselves."

"I can almost hear Moody, 'So, Snape, gotten lucky again. Escaped Azkaban for a second time, have you?'" Severus gave a quite accurate impression of Mad-Eye Moody's growling and rasping voice.

"Would you do me a favour?"

"Anything."

"Shout 'Constant vigilance!' in that voice."

Severus rolled his eyes. "What is it with you? Always looking for a good laugh, are you?"

"Part of my charm."

"As entertaining as it is, my dear Professors…"

"Yes, yes, it's alright. I can hear Dumbledore already telling me that it's got to be and the whole wizarding society will be present and thus demands the presence of everyone who only had a tiny little bit to do with Voldemort's downfall—Sorry, Poppy."

"Nothing to be sorry for. He's gone and he won't come back, no matter if you say his name or not." The nurse smiled. "And now go and see to it that you're up and about when the celebrations are scheduled to take place."

"Up and about, huh? This is going to be one hell of a party."

"Why, of course, it will be! Everyone will be in high spirits—and don't look at me that way. You'll see it's going to be fun as soon as the official part is over."

"The official part?" Severus and Sariss asked in unison.

"Some Ministry stuff, I think. Dumbledore wouldn't tell any details yet. There has still some planning to be done. Poor Professor Flitwick will be quite busy with the decorations. But, gods bless him, he enjoys those things so much."

Sariss got up, gesturing for Severus to assist her since it would involve a—in Sariss's condition—long walk and an all too steep staircase (with trickstep!) if she wanted to reach her rooms, and that was her intention.

"Good night, Poppy," Sariss said.

"See me again tomorrow," the nurse answered.

"Yes, yes, yes," Sariss muttered. Every day. Again and again. Over and over, she was told that. 'See me again tomorrow.' She'd heard it for the third time now—or was it the fourth? It seemed that she was being pampered like a china doll. With Severus, it wasn't any better. He touched her as if she'd go up in a wisp of smoke or shatter into pieces. And that when all Sariss wanted was a crushing embrace. He was too gentle, his kisses too tentative, his touch unbearably tender… Hopefully, it would get better as time progressed and Severus realized that he didn't have to be excessively careful.

The good thing about her current state however was that, if he chose to carry her—and he did—he would have to hold her tight, for Sariss didn't have the strength to hold onto him when she had all but used up her slowly returning strength by walking only a few yards.

So it had been the previous days, so it would be the following days.

~*~*~

Sariss woke up. She felt instinctively, even before she'd opened her eyes, that something was missing, or rather someone.

Had Severus gotten up and hadn't wanted to wake her, let her rest? "I don't need rest," Sariss muttered and swung her legs out of the bed. With a soft groan, she heaved herself to her feet and chanced a look at the clock. Nine forty-five. Of course, Severus would let her sleep; especially when one considered that it was Saturday already and the celebrations would be taking place in the early evening.

Sariss decided to take a shower. She went into the bathroom, showered quickly, wrapped a large fluffy towel around herself, washed her face, brushed her teeth and released her hair from the bun she'd had it in so it wouldn't get wet during the shower. She had already washed it the day before. It had taken all afternoon to dry properly. Now that she couldn't dry it with a snap of her fingers anymore, but needed her wand and a spell to do it, she found it a terribly trying task. But it looked so pretty as it fell down on either side of her face in long dark ripplets that she just couldn't bring herself to cut it. Not an inch if it wasn't strictly necessary. She hadn't forgiven herself the last time she'd cut off a foot of its length. It had of course grown back but nonetheless, it would be a sacrilege if Sariss made the same mistake again. She also had a feeling that Severus wouldn't forgive her. He'd always made a point of how much he liked to brush her hair for her if it was too much of a bother (which in fact it wasn't, thanks to the charmed brush).

Sariss applied a bit of make-up to her face. Only a bit. She'd have to do it again before the party or whatever one was supposed to call the spectacle that would be taking place later. So it was no use to do more than usually. Especially when one considered the fact that Severus insisted she take her meals in her rooms, pointing out that she'd be bombarded with questions if she went to the Great Hall at mealtimes—or, for that matter, at any time ("And that when you're supposed to recover.").

When they had left the castle for a walk or so, they had done that at nighttimes. It was June and thus quite warm. More than once, Sariss had fallen asleep with her head resting on Severus's shoulder when they'd been sitting at the lakeshore in mutual silence. He'd then carried her back inside the castle. She'd woken once when a door had fallen shut and he'd had a hard time opening it with her on his hands.

Sariss left the bathroom, went for the wardrobe, and got dressed, blowing a little kiss in direction of where Oberon was sitting.

As she was of the opinion that she'd mourned everything she'd lost long enough and as the school year was over too, she thought she might as well wear something that was not black for a change. She chose a very dark red dress with transparent long sleeves. The mirror told her that the colour went well with her eyes. Oberon, too, seemed to croak his approval.

But hadn't that particular dress been quite tight when she'd put in on the last time? That had been long ago. She could hardly remember. If so, her clothes, particularly the dresses she'd always liked to wear underneath her robe, would be loose-fitting now or at least not as tight-fitting as they had been once. But it was all right. Because of the way they were cut and made, they'd still be clinging to her body in the right places.

"I've become quite vain since I've been with Severus, don't you think?" she asked her reflection.

"I should receive some payment for reflecting you," it replied dryly.

"No comment."

Sariss stepped into her shoes. They were black and rather velvety.

The sound of the door being opened and closed.

Muffled footsteps.

Someone's trying to be very quiet here…

Guess who?

The footsteps stopped. Sariss listened. Nothing.

She changed a sideways glance at the mirror and saw Severus leaning in the doorframe, quite casually, watching her.

Sariss smiled. "Why are you just standing there?"

"Is that a crime? If so, I'm afraid I'll have to plead guilty as charged."

"Then your sentence will be to stop just staring at me," Sariss said, ambling towards him.

"I take it you're feeling fine."

"Master of the obvious." She snaked her arms around his neck and brushed her lips over his.

Wasn't he supposed to draw her closer now?

Sariss drew back. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"What's that behind your back?" she asked sternly.

He smirked. "Curiosity killed the cat, my love."

"I'm not curious what it is. I just want to know why it's so important that it keeps you from sweeping me off the ground and drown me in a kiss…" She pouted. "You haven't kissed me senseless for almost a week."

"That's because Madam Pomfrey ordered rest. You know where those kisses tend to end…"

"And it isn't just that you don't want to be watched by my friend Oberon anymore?"

"As long as he doesn't tell anybody any details… Who would believe him, anyway?" The hint of a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Well, one of us must display some self-control."

"Exactly." She crossed her arms and then muttered. "As if I had no self-control…"

That was so frustrating!

"Listen, I'm perfectly fine. I won't break if you put your arms around me. I assure you."

She cupped his face in her hands. "I didn't even break when you almost crushed me out of desperation up in the infirmary. Put away whatever it is you're holding there. I don't care. Drop it. And then…"

She began to kiss him in earnest. Let's see if his self-control can withstand that…

A small thudding noise indicated that he had dropped something of not very great weight. Sariss sighed when he finally did as she had requested. Blessed drowsiness began to envelop her…

Severus drew back. "Not fair," he complained.

"But very effective," Sariss answered. "Do I look any worse for wear because of that all too small interlude?"

"Absolutely not." He bent to retrieve the dropped object. It was a parcel. A quite unobtrusive parcel.

"Oh, please. It can't be that important."

Never judge a book by its cover…

"You're right. It's not that important. But…" He picked up again what he had been holding behind his back.

He nervously shuffled his feet. Severus Snape actually shuffled his feet!

"Um… This is for you. A present for you."

Sariss suppressed a grin. He looked like a schoolboy, all of a sudden.

"Severus, you shouldn't have," she said as he held it out for her to take. "I don't think—."

"Don't you dare refuse to accept it. It was really hard to acquire," he said severely. "I'd feel most insulted if you did," he added. "It arrived just this morning. Just in time for 'the gallows'. A nice coincidence."

Among themselves, they had taken to calling the party that would be taking place later that day 'the gallows'. They thought it quite appropriate a term.

"What is it?" Sariss asked. He had managed to arouse her curiosity.

"Well, open it." His black eyes glinted expectantly. "I so want to know if you like it."

"This is like Christmas," she said.

"You could regard it as a belated Christmas present, of course. Or as a very large and unconventional get-well card…" he said. "Hurry up," Severus prompted. "The tension's killing me."

She smiled and deliberately slowly—just to annoy him—unwrapped whatever it would be that was sitting inside…

It was a smaller package, wearing the label of Gladrags, Paris, London, Hogsmeade.

Sariss held her breath and opened it. A sea of dark purple silk and satin was inside. She carefully eased it out of the flat box and held it before herself. It was a dream of a dress; in the light, it rippled in all shades of purple, like water made solid. It was simple and elegant. And so soft and smooth…

"I don't know what to say…" Sariss began. "You really listened to my ramblings about trivialities such as this… It's as if you'd plucked it out of my mind. For years, I've been looking for one just like it. Transfigured clothes are simply not the same. How did you—?"

"That will be my secret," he said. "As to what you could say—."

"Thank you," Sariss said, letting the dress fall onto the bed, and threw herself into Severus's arms and kissed him long and sweet until he pushed her back a little. "It's beautiful—Do you want me to try it on now?"

"If you want to show it to me… Although I must say that you do look very lovely already. You could charm the scales off a dragon."

I'd rather charm something else off somebody else…

"I think I can wait until tonight to see it on you."

"Coward. You just don't want to take the risk that I might start undressing right before your eyes. It might exceed your resolve…"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

Sariss had to admit that he had appeared much too level-headed all the time. Pity, she couldn't read his emotions anymore.

But fact was that every fibre of her body ached to be touched by him, curious as to what it would feel like, perhaps even a bit afraid. Why was he pushing her away with the feeble excuse that Madam Pomfrey had ordered her to rest? Shouldn't Sariss herself be the one to decide when she was all right again?

As if I were a child and couldn't tell myself.

What if he didn't want her anymore? What if—?

"You do love me, don't you?" she stuttered. "Don't you want me anymore?"

He took her face firmly between his hands; his burning eyes bore into hers. "I love you so much that it hurts all over me," he said and kissed her much longer and harder than he had for days, crushing her between his body and the wardrobe door. In fact, the last time he'd kissed her like that had been in the infirmary just after she'd woken from her unintended time-out.

Oh by Merlin, how she wanted to be touched! How could he ever have displayed such an air of indifference when they'd spent their nights in the same room, in the same bed, even—or so it seemed—occupying the same spot on the mattress, as they had slept with their arms around each other, legs entangled?

The memory of his emotions, ever-present as they had seemed, was fading all too quickly. It was a nuisance, as much as it had been when she'd sensed simply everything. It had always felt so good to let herself be enveloped by his want and need and love. It had always been mostly his desire she'd felt—or so she had thought. Now she felt her own naked emotions—now that her mind had grown accustomed to the fact that it didn't receive anything from outside anymore—the multitude of her own emotions was overwhelming.

When he broke the kiss, it felt like a bucket of cold water.

"Don't stop," Sariss said, as Severus ran his thumb over her tingling lips, keeping her eyes closed, waiting for him to resume where he'd left off.

"Kiss me again…"

She almost wished she had her former strength back. But no. It was better that she'd left all that behind. She had received a life instead. A normal life with all the inconveniences that came with it—and the advantages.

It was a life she could feel; and it was full of warmth and love. And both were her own. They were hers to give with or without taking.

If only he'd waver in his resolve not to—how had Poppy put it? Ah, yes. His resolve not to 'bully her into any exhausting activities she would most likely not object to'…

"I'm supposed to see Madam Pomfrey in the afternoon, so she can officially declare that I'm perfectly fine and in perfect shape to attend 'the gallows'," Sariss whispered. "I think I'll see if I can fly the distance between here and the hospital wing."

"If you do that she'll either have your head or shove you out for the simple reason that the infirmary is for the infirm which she'll not count you among anymore," he answered. He smiled slightly, seeming to be drinking her in with his eyes instead of his mouth. "And if she gives you clearance to jump and run as you like…"

"She will, believe me. She will."

As if you needed to jump and run anyway…

Quite the opposite, I daresay.

~*~*~

The Great Hall was decked out as if it were Easter and Christmas on the very same day. The House Colours and Symbols were blazing in bright colours; the enchanted ceiling displayed an orange and red cloudless summer evening sky.

Many people who were usually not there were present. Parents, brothers, sisters, friends. Sariss could make out Mundungus Fletcher, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black who was sitting by his godson's side.

Probably he's telling him to stop looking for trouble—as if that boy needed to go looking for it. Ever since he had been a year old, trouble in the shape of Voldemort and his followers had been after him.

What was usually the Gryffindor table was now occupied by the Gryffindors as well as many other people of whom not possibly all could have been Gryffindors. So it was with the other tables too.

Sariss perceived that quite a few seats over at the Slytherin table were unoccupied. The reasons for that were fairly obvious. Death Eater offspring. Either to be questioned by the Ministry or ordered home precipitately by their parents who—or so Sariss thought at least—didn't think it appropriate for their children to celebrate the recent events.

The chatter of the assembled students gradually subsided when Dumbledore stood up.

"Three weeks have passed since this school was attacked from the inside and the outside," he began. "Three weeks since three among us unknowingly joined forces to end the Dark Lord's existence, the fear, the terror. Together they made another prophecy come true. And again, the Boy Who Lived walked away. Not many people can boast with such a thing. The few that could would rather not. And they're all here in this very room and, as I perceive it, they're all equally reluctant… which is something that in a certain case leaves me mildly astounded," he added softly, throwing a glance at Severus that couldn't have been noticed by any other people. But Sariss did. As well as Severus. He shook his head ever so slightly and groaned softly. Sariss had to bend her head to let her hair fall into her face so that it wasn't all too obvious that—despite the fact that she'd rather be anywhere else at this very moment—she had to suppress a laugh at Severus's expression.

"As I was planning this festivity, I was all the time fully aware that we had an actual end of term feast already," Dumbledore continued. "But there's so much more to be celebrated. Dark shadows were lifted off the wizarding world and its people. The Dark Lord couldn't conquer death this time. Past evil was made undone by the people who hardly a year ago had never even dreamt of finding themselves allies, Harry Potter, Severus Snape and Sariss Ravon. I award the three of you with the Order of the Phoenix—unfortunately, there is no such thing as of yet, but I wish it to be regarded as an honour equalling the Order of Merlin First Class."

Dumbledore had to ask for silence several times, before the shouting and clapping subsided again.

Sariss changed a look at Severus. He'd actually blushed a bit. Cute. Well, Sariss herself must have blushed considerably, since her cheeks were fairly hot. But not nearly as hot and pink as Harry Potter's were. The poor boy had his hair mussed up by a woman who, judging by her fiery hair, could only be Mrs Weasley—and, of course, his godfather.

"But the recent events mean even more to this school, our small community," Dumbledore continued. "The Houses can stand together as one when needed to do so. It proves quite clearly that—as suggested by quite a few respectable people during the last decades—that Slytherin is just as important a house here than the others. Where would the Sorting Hat put those who are simply destined to be Slytherins? Where would it put those who choose to be Slytherins if it weren't for the existence of this very house? Hogwarts would not be complete without you, Slytherin House. Just because some trees are befallen by illness, one must not burn the whole forest. But now enough of all those philosophical chitchat and in some cases perhaps even slightly meaningless phrases…" he trailed off, scanning the attentive audience.

"Let the celebrations begin!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "Merlin knows we have waited long enough," he muttered and sat down again.

"See? Wasn't so bad, was it? I daresay young Mr Potter will be just as glad that we didn't make all of this too big a fuss about."

"It's not over yet," Severus murmured.

"Come on. Let's go over to the buffet. I've just discovered that I'm quite hungry," Sariss said. "And if I'm not mistaken there's a heap of strawberries—of which I want my share."

"Not to mention that you'd like to play the social butterfly, don't you?" Severus smirked.

"Social butterfly?" Sariss rolled her eyes but laughed. "Me?"

"Alright, let's show off then," he replied and got up.

"Show off with what?"

"Well, I fully intend to show off with you, my beauty," Severus said, took Sariss's hand and pulled her up to face him before he kissed her knuckles, his dark smouldering gaze seemingly penetrating her as his lips and breath seared over her skin.

She smiled at him and bit her lip for a second.

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Bite your lip like that. It makes me… nervous."

"Really?"

"Very."

"Good."

"Wench."

"Your fault alone."

"My fault?"

"Totally."

"Why's that?"

"Because—," Sariss drew nearer to his ear not only because of the music that had started playing, "because it was you who introduced me to the world of sinful pleasures. So you'll have to bear with me being that way."

"Introduce you. Did I now?"

"And quite spectacularly too." Yes, Sariss thought, I made him blush. At that, she snatched herself a plate and loaded it with strawberries, topping them with whipped cream and setting a small lonely strawberry on top.

"Do you really intend to eat all that? I must admire your ambition," Severus teased, having recovered from her free way of speaking.

Instead of answering, Sariss shoved the lonely strawberry into his mouth, experiencing that faint tinge of electricity again when her fingertips brushed his lips.

"Mmm," he said. "I could get used to that."

"Don't count on it."

"How about on special occasions?"

"You mean when I want to make you shut up?"

"Well… not exactly. You already have a very well-working Plan A for that. You need no Plan B. You never did."

"Indeed," Sariss said, her mouth now full with strawberries and whipped cream. "Mmm. My favourite," she added.

"Give me one more and I'll make them my favourite too."

"Take them yourself." At that, he caught her hand when she wanted to shove a particularly dark red strawberry into her mouth and guided it to his mouth instead. Sariss let him, quite enjoying all this teasing. "So this is your revenge on me for having had to spoon-feed me all those days?"

"Not quite. Come to think of it, not at all, although this now is much more satisfying and inspiring." He raised his eyebrows and kissed a bit of whipped cream from her fingertips.

"I believe I know exactly what you mean."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"One hundred percent." Sariss smiled and raised her eyebrows just as he had done only a few moments ago. "Of course, to prove it I could do this," she said and bit her lip again, slowly and deliberately.

Severus smiled. "Wench," he said again teasingly. "But such a lovely one." The smile disappeared. "Oh no."

"What is it?" Sariss asked.

~*~*~

"Snape! How are you, old chap?"

"Don't, Black. Just don't," the Potions master mumbled.

"I believe your question was unnecessary, Padfoot," Lupin said. "If my eyes haven't betrayed me—and I think they haven't—I actually saw a smile creep over this usually sneering face of our old friend here—."

"Don't push it, Lupin."

"And that when he has such a nice smile…" Sariss grinned.

"Oh, no. Not you, too."

"It's something all of us will have to grow accustomed to, Padfoot," Lupin said.

"I believe so. With such a gorgeous young lady by my side—," Sirius reached for Sariss's hand and brought it to his lips, "—I'd be smiling constantly." The man had the nerve to look at Sariss as though she were a piece of cake—and that when he was as good as married with Elizabeth (who happened to be Severus's goddaughter). Not that Severus could really blame him for staring at Sariss. If anything, Sariss had become even more beautiful. But that didn't give him the right to—.

"What, Snape, not going to tell me to stay away from your girl?"

"If I had to do that she wouldn't be my girl," Severus stated dryly and quickly extricated Sariss's hand from Sirius Black's.

"Why don't you just try your luck with Nora Sinistra over there? She seems very interested if you ask me…" Sariss said with a wink.

"Sorry, I was just having a bit of fun with Severus here. Actually I'm very much taken. Unfortunately, she seems to be late…" That would be the first time, Black turned down the opportunity to flirt and get laid. Everyone knew that Sinistra was desperately looking for a dashing young wizard. Good for him. Severus had threatened him with all but disembowelment if he ever hurt Elizabeth. "And Sinistra seems more interested in Remus, I might think," Black said, winking at his old friend.

"What? Me?" Lupin looked a bit startled. "But I'm already—"

"Now there's a challenge… Must be animal magnetism," Severus drawled.

Sariss nudged him in the ribs. "Be nice," she hissed.

"What? I didn't even say the 'W'-word."

"Insensitive git," she smirked.

"So I am insensitive now, aren't I? Hmm… I shall have to prove the opposite," Severus replied, grabbed her and planted a kiss to her throat in such a dramatic and exaggerated way that it would have made any Muggle movie director of the nineteen forties proud.

Sariss giggled, as did everyone else, but Severus ignored the others. "Very convincing, but that was not what I meant," she breathed.

"I know. I just wanted to show off," Severus drawled and smirked as he drew her upright again. "Like I said."

"Show off later, Snape. Would you grant me this dance, Miss Ravon?" Sirius bowed and offered his hand.

Sariss quite obviously suppressed a grin, took Black's hand and said, "Of course." Then she raised her eyebrows at Severus and smirked again.

She's trying to make me jealous.

That's quite obvious. Does she succeed?

Not really.

Really?

A bit, perhaps…

Only a bit?

Perhaps a bit more than a bit.

"Hey, Black! Stay away from my girl!" Severus scowled slightly and Sariss sniggered.

"Your girl seems very well capable of deciding on her own. Not that that would be of much help for me. Besides—."

"I'll be back for the tango, Severus," she called from the dance floor. "It's all yours. Don't you dare go away in the meantime."

Severus bowed slightly to signal that he had understood.

"Already taking orders from her?" a voice behind him said.

"Headmaster, is there anything that escapes you?"

"Not really, Severus."

"At least now I know where Sariss got this 'Not really' thing from."

"I'm not so sure. I might have gotten it from her. Seems to be infectious, doesn't it?"

"Not really," Severus said with a smile as he chanced a look at Sariss who was enjoying herself greatly, as Black whirled her over the dance floor; occasionally they were dancing at the spot to be able to talk to some other people. There was Potter dancing with Weasley, the girl, that is. And Sinistra had actually managed to drag a Lupin out there, who kept looking in direction of a woman who was speaking to Mundungus Fletcher at the moment. It was Black's sister.

"There's something that I've seen much too rarely. Actually there are quite a few things that I've seem much too rarely," Dumbledore mused.

"What do you mean?" Severus asked, turning back towards Dumbledore. Black and Lupin had just swapped their dance partners.

"You're smiling, Severus. In fact, it has been lingering on your face for quite a few days by now. But it seems to fully show itself only when you look at Sariss. Especially now. And it's the same with her. She's happy, really happy. I've been hoping for this day to come ever since I looked into the large eyes of the little scared girl who sometimes acted and talked much too grown up for someone her age. You make her happy."

"She makes me happy."

"That's something you don't have to tell me," the old man smiled. "Would you mind if I borrowed Sariss from you for a dance?"

"If you want her to step on your feet you have my blessing and my pity," Severus said.

Dumbledore laughed. "The way I remember it, it has always been vice versa. She's much more talented at dancing than I am. I'm finally getting old."

"You're no older to me than you were when I was a student here. You haven't changed at all. Time seems to stand still when it concerns you."

"Ah, Severus, hidden beneath all this beard and hair are very old bones. However, they're not yet as old and fragile that they couldn't be persuaded to do a little dancing. So if you'll excuse me now? I'll have to cut in before someone else claims the next dance and snatches her away before my very eyes…"

"Certainly, headmaster."

And Dumbledore made his way across the dance floor, nodding here and there and exchanging a few words with the people he came across, until he reached Sariss who accepted his hand with a curtsy towards Dumbledore and a nod towards Lupin who was pulled away by Black's sister. He'd been ogling her all the time—and he seemed much more comfortable with her. Was there something Severus had—in spite of their collaboration in the Order—overlooked before?

Black, however, had to find another victim, unless he wanted an eager Sinistra to steer him over the dance floor, as the headmaster interfered when he wanted another dance with a Sariss who enjoyed all this attention very much.

Apparently, Elizabeth had arrived, since he was spared another dance with Sinistra and instead could be seen hurrying towards the entrance where Elizabeth had arrived. She threw herself into Black's arms, kissed him and then smiled a brilliant smile when he drew her across the dance floor towards Potter who immediately shot a glance at Snape.

Severus had the urge to glare back—old habits die hard—but didn't.

~*~*~

"May I cut in?" Dumbledore asked. "Sirius? Sariss?"

"What a pity. I'd love to make Snape really jealous."

"Nice try," Sariss said, "but quite in vain. You'll have to find yourself another dance partner. The girls are mooning over you."

"You still sense that?" Dumbledore enquired.

"No. Female intuition." Sariss grinned. "You seem to have your fans, Mr Black."

"So do you."

"If you'd leave her to one of her oldest fans right now, Sirius? I'd really appreciate that."

"Of course. Watch your feet, Albus."

Sariss looked scandalised. "His feet? Are you implying—? Hey, you stepped on mine! He stepped on mine, Professor."

"That's your version of the events."

"Black," she growled teasingly. "I'm growing to understand Severus's immense dislike towards you."

Sirius feigned a heart attack. "That hurt. You just broke my heart. Happy now?"

"As a matter of fact…"

"She's all yours, Albus," Sirius said as he scanned the room for a familiar face. "But do watch your feet. She might get ideas."

Dumbledore looked at Sariss.

"I have no idea what he meant and I don't even want to ponder what he might have meant," she said dryly.

"Probably nothing," Dumbledore said, fairly amused. "May I have this dance?"

"Of course. We already settled that," Sariss answered. "What is it that you really want?"

"I'm beginning to suspect that you haven't lost that emotion-sensing-ability of yours after all."

"But I have. It's just that I'm used to you never making small talk. Every word you said to me was important. You've never been the type for idle chit-chat."

"You're right. I wanted to speak about something with you."

"And what is that?"

"The Death Eater trials. I've been informed that it's not necessary for you to attend and be questioned on those matters. The verdict is quite clear already. The only thing that has to be discussed is their sentences. But if you want to, you see, if you think it necessary, I'd inform the Ministry…"

"I don't think I have to be there. I simply don't feel the urge to do that. I don't care what happens to them. Send them to Azkaban for ten years or a lifetime, sentence them to the Kiss. I don't care as long as they won't walk out of there as free men." She sounded stunned as though she'd only just realized that she didn't need to see them being tried and found guilty, which they would be.

Dumbledore nodded.

"You know, not such a long time ago," she continued, "I saw myself walk past a row of them, each one of them manacled to his or her seat. I saw myself look into each of their faces while I told the world what none of them had prevented from happening. I saw myself turn my back on those stony faces and walk away in some sort of triumph. Like a scene in a Muggle film or so. In slow motion. But I just realized that I don't need it. It's finished. The end. No sequel."

"It's good to hear you're over it. I just wanted to make sure that my impression hasn't deceived me."

"When was I ever able to deceive you?" she smiled, and so did her eyes. "I could never pretend anything to you without you noticing, could I?"

"Not really, child, not really," Dumbledore said kindly.

"I want to thank you, sir, for everything."

"My motives weren't as altruistic as they're made up to be."

"Anyway, I thank you."

Dumbledore waved her thanks aside. It wasn't necessary. He owed her much more than a mere 'thanks'. The whole wizarding world was in her debt—and she didn't care.

Because she was too happy to care.

"I see you're being happy, that's enough thanks."

~*~*~

Severus couldn't tear his eyes away from her. He felt a smile creep to the corners of his mouth and spread over his face as he busied himself with some strawberries—they reminded him of her—and other delicious things from the buffet—none of which was nearly as delicious to him as the sight of her and the thoughts it provoked.

After a while, during which he had watched Sariss dancing, smiling and laughing and simply being her gorgeous self—and she was indeed gorgeous tonight; the new dress was simply perfect on her, making her look like a purple whirlwind—she ambled back to Severus, flushed and a bit out of breath, a happy smile on her face.

"What's a man like you doing in a place like this—alone?" she said, putting her arms around his waist.

"Waiting for a woman like you to save him from his misery?" Severus offered and kissed the tip of her nose.

Sariss giggled and wrinkled her nose. "In a playful mood today, are we?"

"Not as playful as impatient. Apparently you've been declared fully recovered, so…"

"Always with your mind in the gutter, are you?" she teased.

"My thoughts revolve around you. I would hardly call that 'in the gutter'."

"Some people regard patience as a virtue…" she said. "Not me though."

"I'm afraid all I can offer you are vices…" he smirked.

"I'm all for exploring every single one of your vices."

"Say… Would it be all too bad behaviour if we fled the stage now and continued this conversation in a bit more private manner?"

"Conversation? So that's what it's called nowadays…"

"Can you blame me? Only looking, never being allowed to thoroughly… ahem… exhaust you because all the world thinks you too weak and ill for it. And always having Madam Pomfrey breathing down my neck."

"I most certainly wouldn't have minded—." She looked mildly scandalized.

"I know." Goodness, how well he knew that! "And that's the worst part of it—," he stooped slightly to growl into her ear, "—with you little wench being not very helpful when it concerns this unintended celibacy."

"Do I look like someone who needs any more rest to you?"

"You certainly need anything in the world more than rest." He kissed her earlobe.

"Would you like to make me need some rest again?" she whispered huskily. Her breasts were pressed against his chest.

"It would be my profoundest pleasure," Severus said. "But there's something else. You have a promise to fulfil."

You can wait a bit longer, my love. We have all the time in the world, and you know it too—although I wouldn't want to wait too long myself either…

"A promise?"

"If I'm not mistaken those are the first few times of a tango. You promised."

"Ah, I remember," she breathed. "Then let's show them what a real tango is supposed to look like—and afterwards we flee this hullabaloo in here and 'continue our conversation' in private."

"Fine with me."

More than just fine.

In fact, it wasn't immediately afterwards that they left the celebration, but quite some time later, as Sariss was whisked away several times by several different people.

Severus couldn't help feeling a bit jealous, since she did seem to enjoy it very much that she got that much attention from the 'male half of the population' as she'd phrased it once. But wherever she went, whoever stole her from Severus—may it be Black (again!), Dumbledore (again, again), Fletcher, or at one point even Harry Potter—she came back to him for the slow dances. With flaming cheeks, she told him that she'd always regarded them as some sort of 'extended foreplay' and chuckled softly as she placed his hands on her waist and hers around his neck and drew him near.

Did she have any idea how cruel she was? Her breath just below his ear, her body pressed against his, her arms around him, her hands stroking his neck so lightly that it couldn't even have been visible for others. And the scent of her hair and skin, rising all around him, worming its way discreetly into his mind, was intoxicating as always.

She's a drug.

And you're very much addicted.

Whatever powers responsible for her choosing to be with me instead of someone else whom she'd have no difficulty to get now, I am grateful.

Well, an overdose is certainly in order in your case.

"Let's leave here," she whispered finally, in mid-dance, and Severus was only too happy to oblige. And as it was already well past midnight, they didn't even have to bid many people goodnight; most of them were occupied with dancing anyway.

When they'd reached Sariss's chambers, they scarcely made it into the bedroom.

Next chapter:

The epilogue. Sariss feels loved, Severus calls her a wench, Harry says good-bye to Hogwarts castle—and I'll thank everyone who reviewed profusely…