Pansy lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She didn't see a thing, though, as it was pitch black in her bedroom.
She couldn't sleep. And frankly, she didn't want to. Damn Dumbledore! He brought her to this… this… it wasn't even a real life! It was far better to hate him than to think about his reasons or intentions. And it was better than to sleep. Everything was better than sleep.
But at some point, she couldn't avoid it any more. Her body was gaunt from too many sleepless nights and too little to eat. Not that she didn't get food, no, she got plenty of it. But most of the time she just didn't feel like eating. Dark circles under her eyes and a pale skin were the striking characteristics of her features nowadays and her once shiny blonde hair was greasy and tousled. To put it short: She was a mess. She didn't care for herself.
She'd even wished for Dumbledore to send her to Azkaban, but he would have none of it. He'd just smiled mildly and patted her head. 'As if I was some kind of animal!' she reminded herself angrily.
Instead of Azkaban, he'd send her to that place. It was the worst she could imagine. Well, maybe not really the worst she could come up with, but it was bad. Bad enough to hate him even more. 'Mudblood-lover,' she thought. She was tempted to spit but this was her bedroom. She didn't want to be forced to clean up in the morning. And mind you, she had enough of that business already.
A cold laugh escaped her lips. She had given up hope that Lucius would find her. This was the least place he'd expect her to be. And where could he search for her anyways? He was a criminal on the run. He had to hide all the time.
No, if she wanted out, she had to help herself. But she didn't see a way without her wand. Dumbledore had snapped it. Hate dwelled up again. She wouldn't rest until she could escape this place and somehow acquire a wand. She would go back to Hogwarts and show them who was really worth being a magician.
Thinking of various ways to kill that old fool – and his oh so loved mudlood Granger right away – she spend the rest of the night.
Even before dawn, her… host came to wake her. Cursing inwardly, she dressed in her plain white shirt and black trousers and went outside. Her first duty for the day was to milk the cows. It had taken her a few days to get accustomed to that, as well as to everything here. By early noon, she had finished her tasks for now and returned from the stables to the main house, her gaze shortly lingering on the mountains far away at the horizon. She had no idea into which direction Hogwarts, let alone Europe, lay. As far as she knew, she was somewhere in middle Asia and had to help on this farm or whatever it was. She only understood half of what her new… employer asked her to do and she was under the impression that most of his comments on her weren't as friendly as they might sound.
She sighed and averted her eyes, wishing despite better knowledge that Lucius would come and get her out of this hell.
+~*#
At the other end of the world, it was still night.
Hermione couldn't sleep. She was worried about Ron and she missed Severus. She hadn't been able to talk to him in the last few days – except for classes – and she desperately wanted to hear his voice. Ignoring her inner voice (telling her that she would be in trouble should she be caught) she threw her robes over her nightgown and made her way through her door into the Common Room.
She had to smile at the sight of Harry, asleep on the sofa. It was so typical of him to tell them not to worry and then stay up to make sure everything was all right. She frowned. But meant his being still down here that Ron hadn't come back yet? She checked her watch. Almost three in the morning. Maybe Ron had just let Harry sleep.
She shrugged and quickly went through the portrait hole leading into the Common Room. The fat lady was sound asleep and Hermione was thankful for it. She really had other things on her mind than to think of an excuse for the ever-curious portrait.
She hurried down the corridor and came to a halt in front of a suit of armour. Severus had told her that hidden behind it was a secret passage that lead into the Entrance Hall. And from there it was only a short way into the dungeons.
Once inside the Entrance Hall, Hermione cast an Invisibility Spell on herself – she'd looked it up in the library, and it didn't affect the baby in any way – and made her way to the dungeons.
Hermione shortly stopped at Severus' office to check if he was in there – he was often grading papers till late at night or working on a potion – but went on to his private rooms after making sure he wasn't somewhere in his office rooms.
Giving the password (it was still 'Hermione') and ignoring Bravado's rather unpleasant comment about her late-night visit, she ended the spell once inside and went into the living room, the magical torches enlightening her way.
She found Severus in his library, asleep on the floor, a book in his lap. She smiled. She had awoken often enough with a sore neck after a night like this. She eyed the amount of books spread on the floor all around him. Protection Wards, Undetectable Passwords and Anti-Apparition Spells were only a few titles she could see. However, the book in his lap was of a completely different topic. A Guide to Parenthood or How To Raise My Child. Her smile broadened. This was the Severus Snape she fell in love with. The caring and gentle man. The man who put others always first and never asked what risks he had to take for their safety. Even if he wouldn't admit it, he cared. He cared for his students and for his colleagues, he even cared for Harry. But most of all he cared for her.
She didn't know how or when, but some time in the last few months she had fallen in love with him. After what had happened under the influence of the potion, she'd had far more insight into the complex and confusing being that was Severus Snape than anyone else. They had shared so much, and she'd seen a side of him that he hadn't even known himself. She'd seen him in a way he hadn't even allowed Dumbledore to see. She had seen the vulnerable and insecure boy still living inside of him. She had seen his fears and she knew things about his past he had shared with no one. She knew who he was – and what he had done – and she still loved him. She had even kissed his left forearm, right where the Dark Mark was still visible, if only faintly.
She knelt down beside him and lightly touched his shoulder. His eyes shot open at once, his arm already reaching for his wand, when he recognized her.
He sat up, rubbing his sore neck. "Is something wrong?" he asked, surprised to see her in the middle of the night. "You are all right, aren't you?" he was suddenly very nervous. He couldn't stand the thought that she probably wasn't okay.
"I'm fine," she assured him, rolling her eyes. "I just wanted to be near you."
He smiled, relieved, and also a bit uneasy. He wasn't used to this. He wasn't used to anyone care for him, or even wanting to be near him longer than they had to. But it felt good.
He pulled her closer, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. He closed his eyes. It felt so good. She lay her head on his shoulder and hugged him closely. "I missed you," she whispered. Her voice sounded awfully thick, as if she was trying not to cry.
"Shh," he said, gently picking her up. He carried her over to his living room and sat down on the sofa, with Hermione on his lap. He silently rocked her like a little child and whispered calming nonsense.
After a while, she seemed to calm down.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I guess I'm a little hormonal."
He laughed. "Really? How did you know?" he asked mockingly. She poked him in the ribs, but smiled. "That's not funny, you know," she said, trying to stifle a giggle. "I'm breaking into tears over the most minor things. It's really annoying."
They were silent for a few more minutes, until Hermione spoke again. "I hate it," she said.
"What?" he asked sleepy. After all, it was very late.
"That I can't tell everyone I see how happy I am. I can't tell anyone that I love you and I can't tell anyone that I carry your child, okay, I understand that. But I can't even tell them how happy I am because I'd have to explain and I couldn't. I already used the 'I got one hundred and twelve per cent in my last test'-excuse twice in the last two weeks."
He was feeling light. She was happy with him. She loved him. She wanted to tell the world. Inside he had still asked himself if she would stand by his side in public, if she could handle the whispers and rumours still following him. Even if he was no longer officially a Death Eater, he wasn't the nicest person to be around, and most still thought of him as the evil bastard Snape.
He didn't trust his voice enough to reply. He merely held her closer and wondered how her body seemed to fit to his almost perfectly. He then and there promised himself to find a way for them to be together. There just had to be a way to bend the rules or find a way around them. After all, he was a Slytherin. If there was anyone who could find a solution to their problem, he was a very good choice.
+~*#
Lucius narrowed his eyes. Scanning the crowd once more, he finally turned his back on the girls and headed towards his hiding place for the night.
She wasn't there. In fact, he doubted she was anywhere in England at all. Dumbledore would not allow him to find her, for she was a valuable ally against him. He was quite sure that Dumbledore had send her somewhere far away, maybe somewhere at the other end of the world. He laughed. She probably was in Nepal, mucking out stables and cultivating rice fields. She must hate that. And there was no chance for him to find her. He'd tried to Apparate just by giving "near Pansy Parkinson" as the place where he wanted to go, but she seemed to be somewhere unplottable. He supposed he couldn't Apparate there, just like he couldn't Apparate into Dumbledore's bedroom at Hogwarts to kill the mudblood-loving idiot.
It wasn't as if he loved Pansy, but she was good company, and most of the time she was eager to learn from him. She was nearly as devious as he himself. He smiled at the thought of that. Oh, yes, she definitely was a devilish person. He only knew few women who didn't run off, screaming, at the mere sight of a bit blood if it had been taken by force. She was the first to try a new torturing method, he'd learned that over the past half year. The more he got to know her, the more he wondered why Draco despised her so much. She was perfect for him. But then again, she was a good actor, and directly under Dumbledore's nose she hadn't wanted to risk her head. And he hadn't wanted her to blow her cover. As long as everyone had thought of her as the foolish girl that was hopelessly in love with Draco, they had dismissed her as harmless – well, as harmless as a Slytherin can be. She had always done a good job in sneaking information to him.
He yawned. It was awfully late. Trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in (which is rather hard on the cold forest ground with only a thin robe and a small patch of moss to lie on), he thought once again of Pansy, wishing to feel her body next to his.
+~*#
Harry woke with a start.
There was a sound he couldn't quite place and his bed felt odd, too. He only took a second to realize that he was still lying on the Common Room sofa. He checked his watch, still half-asleep. 3:27. 'Great,' he thought. 'Where are you, Ron?'
There was the sound again. A scratching noise from the portrait hole. Harry yawned. He didn't know if he was up to face whoever was standing outside the entrance, but he was too tired to think properly. He walked over and opened the portrait.
But it was only Crookshanks, Hermione's reddish brown cat. "Why, Crookshanks, where do you come from?" Harry wondered, picking the cat up and carrying him into the Common Room. "And how did you get out?"
He frowned, but due to the early hour his mind wasn't working at all. He yawned again.
Crookshanks just looked up at him, meowed and settled down in one of the armchairs. "Good thinking," Harry agreed and lay back down, closing his eyes.
He tried to remember the dream he'd had earlier. It had been about Ginny. And it had been a good one.
Once more he condemned the person who had invented the spell that stopped the boys from entering the girls' dormitory.
+~*#
Ginny smiled in her dreams.
She was dreaming about Harry. He'd won the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor and asked her to marry him at the victory party, in front of everyone.
+~*#
Neither of them moved for a long time, except for his occasional sobs and Colin's hand soothingly caressing Ron's back.
Ron wasn't sure how he felt. He was still raging mad at Malfoy and Pansy, and wanted to hex them with everything he could, but then again he was afraid he'd have to meet either of them again. But being petrified at the mere thought of it wasn't a good qualification for the job, so he dismissed the idea of cursing them himself.
He sighed. Unless someone got Malfoy securely locked away in Azkaban, he doubted he would ever be completely relaxed. He could just hope that time would heal his wounds.
After what seemed like hours, Ron noticed that he was still in Colin's tight embrace. It was a bit odd for him; he'd only been this close to his family, and perhaps Harry and Hermione, but never for such a long time. He felt confused; but he liked it in a strange sort of way. Colin was warm and comfortable (he blushed a little at the thought) and his shoulder had just the right height to place his head upon. Odder still, he didn't want to pull away, but broke the contact nevertheless, not able to meet Colin's eyes. He surely was fierce red in the face.
Colin seemed surprised and Ron had the impression that he only pulled away reluctantly.
"I-" Ron started, but got cut off by Colin.
"Do you know why I followed you around in my first years here all the time?" he asked.
"To take photos of famous Harry Potter?" Ron guessed. Well, he didn't have to guess. He knew.
But he was curious why Colin wanted to talk about that right now. He knew he certainly had other things on his mind.
Colin nodded slowly. "At first, yes." Colin seemed to be fighting with himself. Ron could almost see the good and the bad Colin on each shoulder, arguing about whatever was behind all this. He raised his eyebrows questioningly, trying to encourage Colin to say something. Of course, he didn't know if it worked. Hermione always said he was better at looking sceptical than at looking encouraging.
"At first I followed you because of Harry. But after a time, I got to know you better, too. And I actually enjoyed your company," Colin said, his gaze wandering through the room, avoiding Ron's. Suddenly, he straightened his composure and their eyes met. "I started to take photos of you as well, maybe even more than of Harry. You never noticed because the two of you were together almost all of the time. I admired you since my first year, I think. I mean, sure, Harry met with You-know-who and all that, but he's the Boy who Lived. You just went through all of this because you are his friend and I always wanted to have a friend like that. Someone who would think me more valuable than a few school rules or risk his own health for me." He laughed harshly. "I probably should ruin your day any further by doing this, but I just have to."
He took a step towards Ron and lightly kissed him on the lips.
Ron was dumbstruck at first. Thousands and thousands of thoughts seemed to swirl in his head, all wanting to be thought at once. And then there were his emotions. He'd thought after what he had witnessed that night he could never have intimate contact with anyone, or at least not for a long time. Part of him wanted to run away and hide somewhere where no one would find him, and the other part only wanted to pull Colin closer and feel the same warmth as before.
When Colin pulled away after a few moments, in Ron's head his emotions were still battling with the intellectual and rational side of his brain. Colin interpreted that as a dismissal and muttered a quick "Sorry" before turning to leave.
Ron couldn't think anymore. Maybe he'd lost his ability to think rational in that damn basement of Malfoy, but that didn't matter right now. His raw emotions – the need to be with someone, the need for closeness and contact just to be able to forget – took over. He almost saw himself from out of his body, crossing the room and pulling Colin back into his arms, kissing him greedily.
After a while, he let go and said, seriously, "I can't promise you anything, Colin. I don't know how I feel. I'm just too confused by everything that has happened. And I don't know what I will think of this tomorrow…"
Colin nodded. "It's okay with me," he said, smiling a bit. "Even if this is just a one night's thing, it's better than nothing at all, huh?"
But instead of saying another word, Ron leaned down and kissed Colin again.
A/N: Okay, so flame me for setting Ron up with Colin but it wasn't my idea. Originally, my friend Jaqueline complained about my abandoning Ron all the time and she asked me to find someone for him. We were thinking about it for some time, and suddenly she said: "He's gay!" And I said: "Huh?" And she said: "He's gay! Ron's gay! And he only thought he was in love with Hermione because he didn't want to see it. Gay people often can't believe their feelings and thus hide them or deny having them. Let's see, who's there he can fall in love with?" And I (busy driving as we were having this conversation on our way back home after my registering for university): "Huh?" (Okay, I was a bit tired – no wonder after a total of ca. seven hours of driving – and didn't really listen.) And she: "That strange boy with the camera? Harry's biggest fan, whatshisname? That boy taking all the photos?" And I: "Colin Creevey?"
She gives me a look as if to say "That's what I said!". And I simply agreed.
Come to think of it, I couldn't really do anything after I agreed with her. I mean, she knows where I live and could come to me while I'm sleeping and do horribly things for ignoring her. And most of you don't even live on the same continent, and you don't know my real name. So I decided to stay safe and risk it (Wow, what a contradiction in one sentence: a safe risk?).
Besides, I think I made it plausible. Now tell me: Should I leave it as a one-night-stand or do you want it to get more serious?(And I so hope that you think of this the same way as I do, or I'll have to disappoint you really badly… I know, why ask if she's already decided what to do with Ron? Well, maybe one of you has a better idea… ;-))
Damn it! I nearly always forget to add the Disclaimers.
So, HP and everything around it belongs to J.K. Rowling.
The title is – surprise, surprise! – a song title. It does not belong to me but to Dido (from her Album No Angel). I wanted this chapter to concentrate on the emotional side of things, that's why it's lacking real action but there's much sweetness. And this time it has nothing to do with the lyrics, but only the title because everyone has someone they can think of or go to (or wish to).
God, and I can't even wish you a happy Valentine's Day in September (except if I wait to post this until February, but I won't risk being skinned alive by wrathful readers J).
However, keep reading, and review, please!
donotsrock
PS: Talking about Valentine's Day… in the story it's early February ;-)