Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize (i.e. the Call of the Blood) is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.
Warning: This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.

Cloak of Courage

WendyNat

Chapter 13

~~~~~~~~

"How?"

The single word seemed to echo in the near-darkness of the bedroom. Hermione curled up closer to her husband, burrowing underneath the bedcovers as she willed her hands to stop trembling. To occupy them, she began to play with some of the sparse hairs on his chest. He shifted slightly but did not stop her. Recalling his reaction the previous morning when she had traced the thin scar crossing his breastbone, she made sure to avoid it.

"Pardon?" He sounded tired and she felt a flash of guilt... but she had to know. Ever since she saw the ring, something had worried at the back of her mind, something other than the obvious. And it had suddenly burst into her mind with a rare clarity.

She had assumed that Avada Kedavra was used to kill her parents.

But then, there would have been no blood.

So, not the quick and easy death she had been led to believe. She shuddered, thinking of what had been done to Ron… was it like that? Had there been that much… malice… behind the act? Her throat dry, she managed, "How did they die?"

Silence answered her. Hermione couldn't see his face from her current position, and lifted her head. His eyes were open, staring blankly into the darkness… but when she looked up he flicked his eyes to hers. "I am not certain, Hermione. We only had… reports. No specifics."

"What did the reports say? Dumbledore led me to believe it was Avada Kedavra. But it couldn't have been."

The chest below her heaved with a deep sigh. She knew he was reluctant to tell her, but she had to know. She waited patiently and he finally said, "The final blow was the Killing Curse. Lucius…" his voice trailed off. "Hermione, you don't need to know this."

Her fingers went still. "But I want to," she said, her voice cold even in her ears. I have to know if it was like Ron…

Severus shook his head. "I have no specifics, other than the final curse thrown."

Hermione let out a breath, putting her head back down on his chest and staring at her fingers as they resumed their previous occupation. "But before… before the curse, were the Blood Rites..."

"No." The answer was immediate and definite. "Lucius would not… perform the Blood Rites on a Muggle. Few wizards would… if any." The arm that was coiled around her began to rub small circles on her back, and she felt herself relax into him as the motion lulled her.

She remained silent, working up the nerve to ask the next question. Not because she was afraid of his reaction, but because she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know the answer. Finally, when she heard him stifle a yawn, she whispered, "The Blood Rites were performed on Ron, weren't they?"

His hand stilled its motions on her back and she tensed. His other hand lifted her chin so that she was staring into his eyes… eyes that were now darker than even the shadowed corners of the room. He looked at her gravely and nodded once before pulling her into a tight embrace, both hands rubbing her back soothingly. She buried her face against his chest and breathed deeply, relaxing as his scent filled her nostrils. "Thank you. Thank you for telling me."

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

The next morning, she discovered that along with the ring and her new knowledge, the dreams had returned. After Severus left her side to perform his morning ablutions, her sleeping mind was assaulted by vivid memories, snatches of conversation…

"Will I get one, too, Mummy?"

"One day you will, I'm sure. But no time soon, dearest."

"But I want one now!" A stamping foot.

"Here – why don't you just wear mine right now until I finish these dishes."

And then the sound of her mother's laughter as a five year old Hermione slipped the wedding ring on her thumb – it was too big for even that appendage, and slipped off. The clinking as it hit the tile floor reverberated in her mind, the sound melting and changing… the clear tones become jagged, sharp… painful…

She whimpered, tossing her head on the pillow, still trapped in her own mind…

And then something that was not a memory, but vivid nonetheless… her mother's voice, screaming as Death Eaters broke into the Granger house. The house she grew up in.

And then she woke, heart pounding… a red haze forming at the edges of her vision…

They will pay. I will make them pay.

Her hands shook… the draw that had been quelled when she moved the books was back. Full strength. Her blood pulsed in her veins, and she could feel the yearning like a physical presence… like hands pulling at her… she could learn. She could pay Draco – and his father – back for the pain she felt. For the pain her mother had felt. She pushed her hair from her face and was startled when she felt dampness on her trembling fingers. She pulled her hand away and stared blankly at it… tears.

You cannot bring back the dead.

No, she thought resolutely. But I can make them pay.

Each step seems but a small one.

She curled up and pulled the bedcovers over her, gripping a pillow in her arms. She had to get out of the rooms for a while… she had planned on staying there for the morning, having a lie-in and then reading more in her new Transfiguration books. Professor McGonagall had requested her presence the next day to begin her formal apprenticeship. But now…

She would attend breakfast. And then go to the library, perhaps. Anything to get out of the rooms, to get away from the lure, the draw… A distraction… I need a distraction…

And then a reasonable voice sounded in her mind. But would it be such a bad thing, really? They aren't Books of the Blood, after all.

"No!" she said aloud, throwing the bedcovers off. As she crawled out of the bed and stood, she realized that the water had cut off in the shower. She congratulated herself on her timing and went to her wardrobe, practically slamming the door shut after pulling out her robes for the day.

Tossing them on the bed, she sat at the vanity and began to attack her hair.

"I didn't expect to see you awake," Severus commented. She jumped slightly, not having noticed him leaving the bathroom.

"I thought I would go up for breakfast today, and then do some research in the Restricted Section," she said, turning to watch as he strode to the wardrobe. He was just wearing his bathrobe, the thin green cloth doing little to conceal his body. Well, there's a distraction, she thought, forcing herself to turn back around and continue to work on her hair. Putting Lavender's advice into play would certainly prove to be a distraction, she mused, but there wasn't enough time before his classes. Maybe that night…

"I see," he said, a suspicious tone in his voice. She frowned and turned, her mouth going dry as she caught sight of his bare-chested form buttoning up his trousers. He caught her eye and gave her a small smirk. She still felt slightly embarrassed when he did things like that, but she was beginning to get used to it. And to welcome it, actually… she couldn't help but see how sexy the arrogant, smirking bastard was… She smirked back, flirtatiously raking his body with her eyes and smothering a grin when she saw the surprise on his face – it was quickly suppressed, but she saw it.

He turned back to retrieve a shirt from his wardrobe, and she once again noticed the line of parallel scars running down his right side.

There are many blood rituals. Many blood magics.

What were those scars from? What other rituals had he performed… or had been performed on him? The questions burned in her mind, but she didn't bother to ask. She doubted he would be any more willing to answer now than when she had asked the first time.

Not turning his head, he stated, "If you have need of it, there is Dreamless Sleep potion in the office. I spelled the cabinet to open to you." She stared at him, dumbstruck, and he faced her with an air of annoyance. "If you wish to take a nap, for instance, and I am not… present. I am well aware of why you are not currently in Morpheus' care."

"Oh. Thanks," she said in a low voice, still staring at him as he pulled on his shirt and frock coat. "I… I hadn't been having them, until this morning. The dreams. I mean, they had stopped. But then-"

"Malfoy's little prank, no doubt, has affected you." He shook his hair back irritably and cut a glance at her, adjusting his cuffs. "Remember that the ring changes nothing, Hermione. What has occurred still occurred, and it is neither worse nor better for Malfoy's little present."

She nodded mutely. How could he be so matter-of-fact about something like this? Immediately, she chastised herself. Because he went through it, too… but worse, since it was his own father that did it…Clearing her throat, she said, "I know." She put down the brush. "That's another reason I want to go to breakfast… I don't want Malfoy to know he had an effect on me." Severus gave her a satisfied nod and pulled his teacher's robes on. Suddenly, something else occurred to her. "Severus?"

"Yes?" he asked distractedly.

"Should I… how should I write it in the journal? What's better – am I supposed to be upset and hate the Malfoys more, or condescending…"

"What do you think?" Severus faced her fully, then, in his full Professor regalia, and unconsciously she sat up straighter in her chair… immediately feeling foolish. "You know the goal as well as I do; what is the most appropriate response?"

A test. She had always been good at tests. She thought a moment, then said, "Well, it actually helps with the stalling, doesn't it? I can put on a brave face in public, but inside I'm in turmoil… I'm even more reluctant now to see the Death Eaters, afraid of how I'd react… and I hate Malfoy more than ever."

He gave her an approving nod. Well, that just ruined the Professor image… I can't remember him ever looking at a Gryffindor so approvingly, she thought wryly.

"Very good. And, as you are putting forward the brave public façade, do not mention it in your letters to Viktor."

Hermione nodded, and then asked, "When will we start the Occlumency lessons, Professor?" He shot her a strange look before answering.

"I had planned on this evening, but unfortunately I was obliged to assign a detention so I will be otherwise occupied. So, tomorrow evening, immediately after dinner, we will begin."

Hermione cocked her head, curious. "Must have been something good to warrant a personal detention with the Potions Master. You usually shove those off on Filch. Who is it?"

Severus' face twisted with aggravation. "Young Dennis Creevey felt that his attendance at our nuptials afforded him a more… familiar… association with me. I was forced to dissuade him of that notion."

"Oh, my…" Hermione bit her lip. Poor Dennis…

"Indeed. Cleaning several dozen cauldrons by hand should assist him in seeing the truth of the matter," Severus said coldly.

Hermione felt a wave of sympathy for Dennis. "Several dozen? That's… that's quite a lot, isn't it?"

"That is the idea."

"Maybe you should…" Hermione paused and took a breath. "Well, he's young, you know, he doesn't really-"

He cut her off with a dark look. In a cold voice, he said, "Maybe you should save your helpful advice for Minerva. You are, as you will note, my wife – not my assistant. I assure you I am quite capable of handling my classes, Hermione."

She knew he was right. Her cheeks burning, she muttered, "Fine. I'm sorry." She coiled her hair on the top of her hair, fastening it with a clip. "I'll see you later, then."

When he didn't respond, she glanced up and saw him watching her strangely in the mirror. "What?" Noticing that he was staring at her head, she laughed. "It's just to keep it out of the way in the shower. I can't wash it every day – it becomes a complete frizzball if I do."

"Ah. I do – we do – have a bathtub, Hermione." She looked at him hopefully and he chuckled. "Come." Taking his hand, she allowed him to lead her into the bathroom, where he lifted his wand and waved it in front of the side wall. She watched in delight as the wall melted away, revealing a large sunken tub with dozens of taps. She could see why he had separated it from the rest of the room – it was just a large hole in the floor with nothing surrounding it. She could imagine a late-night visit to the loo ending rather dramatically if one wasn't paying attention.

"This is bigger than the one in the Prefect's bathroom!" she exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me before now?"

He shrugged. "It rarely crosses my mind. I prefer showers."

Hermione shook her head, staring at the tub. "There's nothing like a long hot soak after a bad day. You don't know what you're missing." She turned to look at him, a smile on her face, and their gazes locked for a long moment. Her throat went dry when she saw the intense look in his eyes, and then went even drier when his eyes flicked down her body appraisingly.

His eyes met hers again and he raised an eyebrow slightly. "Perhaps you can… demonstrate… what I am missing sometime."

She felt her cheeks grow warm at the image that snapped into her mind. Not trusting her voice, she simply nodded, a shy smile tugging at her lips. He held her gaze a moment more before nodding and stating, "Well, I will see you at breakfast. Enjoy your… soak."  With that, he swept out of the room.

She drew in an unsteady breath and shook her head to clear it. It was hard to believe that just two weeks ago she had never considered him as a man before, and now when he was around it was all that she was aware of. With a rueful grin she leaned over and waved her hand in front of some of the taps, smiling in earnest when she found the cinnamon and vanilla scented foam.

As she slid into the water she let out a grateful sigh and closed her eyes. Ginny and the girls are going to be so jealous when I tell them about this…

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

She was on her way to breakfast, feeling amazingly relaxed, when she heard her name being called. "Wait, Hermione!" She turned her head and saw Harry approaching. She paused, moving to the side and out of the main traffic. As he walked up to her, she could see that his green eyes were troubled. "Is everything all right?"

She looked at him quizzically. "Of course it is, Harry, I told you – he's been fine. For Severus Snape, he's been downright nice, actually."

Harry shook his head. "Not him, I mean… whatever it was that Malfoy gave you."

"Oh!" Hermione said, her stomach twisting. She had been able to push it from her mind during her bath, particularly as she was distracted by other - more pleasant – thoughts, but now… she averted her gaze, watching the stream of students entering the Great Hall. "It… it was my mother's wedding band. His father must have given it to him. And it had…" Her voice caught and she shook her head mutely.

Harry laid a comforting hand on her arm. "'Mione… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up-"

"It's all right, Harry. You have a right to know… you were there when he… gave it to me. And… it's… I'm fine." She took a deep breath and looked her friend in the eyes. "The ring doesn't change anything, really. What happened still happened, the ring doesn't make it any better or worse than before."

Harry shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. "Hermione, you're amazing, you know that?"

With a mischievous grin, she leaned over and said, "Severus is the one that said it, actually. Well, something like it… I think he worded it a little better."

"Snape?" Harry's face grew shuttered. "What does he know about what you're going through?"

Hermione frowned. "More than you'll ever realize, Harry. And no – I can't tell you any more. Just… trust me, he understands, all right?" Better than anyone, my friend. Better than anyone, she added silently.

Harry looked away uncomfortably. "So… um…" He stopped and ran a hand through his hair, glancing at her before averting his eyes once again. "So he's different when you two are alone, then?"

Hermione smiled slightly. "Not completely. I mean, the whole snappy, snarky thing is him, you know? But I'm getting used to it, and he is different in a lot of ways when we're alone, I guess. We talk more than I thought we would. Well, when he's not in a mood."

Harry winced. "Talking to Snape… I just can't see it."

She couldn't resist – Harry was so obviously uncomfortable about the subject. "Of course we talk, Harry. Did you think we spent all the time snogging?" she asked in an innocent voice.

Harry looked at her with horror in his eyes, blatantly sickened by the very thought. "Merlin, Hermione – don't put that kind of image in my head!"

She bit back a wicked grin and commented airily, "Well, he is quite good at it, really."

"Hermione!" Harry yelped, clapping his hands over his ears. "Don't say things like that without warning a man first!" Hermione couldn't hold back her laughter anymore and eventually Harry joined in, taking her arm and leading her into the Great Hall.

Still laughing, Hermione looked up at the Head Table and gave her husband a wink, receiving an approving nod in return. Then she let her gaze drift over to the Slytherin table and catch Draco's eye for a moment, gleefully noting the expression on his face: mingled shock and disappointment. I'll bet he was hoping that I'd be in tears, she thought smugly. Well, too bad, Draco Malfoy – I'm not going to give you the satisfaction.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

The day passed quickly. She listened with amusement to the Quidditch talk surrounding her – Gryffindor was playing Slytherin that Saturday, and the entire House seemed able to speak of nothing else. Even Lavender and Parvati were hanging on Harry and Ginny's every word at dinner as they described new maneuvers they had studied over the past week in preparation. Hearing the excited chatter coming from the Slytherin table, she surmised that both Houses were consumed by the coming match.

Bidding her friends farewell, she returned to her rooms and changed into her pajamas, making a mental note to pick up a few other sets in Hogsmeade that weekend with Ginny. Perhaps something a little more… intriguing… than the basic shirt-and-trousers set that she currently owned.

She smiled to herself. Poor Dennis. Severus had appeared to be in a foul mood when she glanced up at the Head Table and it didn't take Professor Trelawney to see many dozens of dirty cauldrons in the younger Creevey's future. Yes, it would be rather late before Severus returned from the detention, if the permanent scowl on his face through dinner was any indication. At least I don't have to deal with his mood this time, she thought with a satisfied sigh.

Curling up in one of the armchairs, she opened one of her new Transfiguration books and quickly became engrossed. She didn't notice the hours pass by as she read, until she reached a section of the book that caused her to freeze.

Transfiguring polished gold, such as a ring, requires a certain amount of skill…

Blinking, she shook her head. Such as a ring… slamming the book shut, she stood and walked over to the journal that was sitting on the desk. With a heavy sigh she grabbed a quill and began to write.

Viktor will never know how handy this journal is… so much is going on, and while I can talk to Severus about some of it, other things… well, I don't want to bother him. Especially something like this. Is he still friends with the Malfoys? What if he is? I trust him, but I don't trust them one bit… especially after the prank Draco played last night.

My mother's wedding ring? With her blood still on it? What kind of low-life bastard would do that, besides a Malfoy? I can't even imagine being in the same room as Draco, much less Lucius… and while I don't think Draco was there when my parents were murdered, I would bet my two front teeth that Lucius was. I don't know what I would do if I saw him in front of me right now… I put up a brave front but the ring really did get to me, more than I want to admit to anyone.

Gods, what if Severus is friends with Lucius, for real? What am I to do?

I hate Malfoy more than ever. Both of them. Hell, all three of them… I can't imagine Narcissa is an innocent, with a husband and son like those two. What if I have to see them? What if Severus makes me? What if he has to make me go near them? Can I stop myself from hexing them?

Slowly, she shut the journal and put her head in her hands.

Could she stop herself from hexing them? Or… worse? But she didn't know any worse, not really… she had read some things that seemed promising in those books that Viktor had sent her…

maybe she should take a quick look again, to see if she remembered correctly…

maybe some of the simpler spells would be safe enough to try…

maybe-

Each step seems but a small one.

With shock, she realized that she now stood in front of her wardrobe. "Oh, Gods," she moaned, falling to her knees and hugging her arms around herself. How could she feel all of these things? How was it possible to want, more than anything, to open those books, to read what they could teach her, to use it, if need be… to be prepared… And yet, at the same time to want, more than anything, to close them forever, to cast them into the deepest pit imaginable, to shield her mind and soul from the horrors that awaited her if she should fall down that slippery slope… if she should go so deep into the pit that she could never see the light again… to embrace the Call…

But she was safe from the Call. Wasn't she? She hadn't read the Book of the Blood, not really. Not enough to matter… that's what Severus had said. And Severus would know.

The blood rushed in her ears and she rocked back and forth, shaking her head to clear it. It was almost as if there were two voices in her head – hers and something else… something that wanted more than anything for her to pick up the books, to read…

They will pay. I will make them pay.

She stood and opened the wardrobe.

You cannot bring back the dead.

Shaking her head violently she slammed the door shut. No, she screamed silently. If I do this it's of my own choice, my own decision, no outside interference, do you understand me?

She froze then and began to laugh at her own absurdity. Outside interference? Was she going mad? She moved to the vanity and sank down on the bench, running her hands through her hair and frowning when she encountered snarls. Then she began to laugh again, laughter with an edge of hysteria. Some things in life are constant… no matter what else is going on. Like bushy, unmanageable, tangled hair.

A distraction… I need a distraction… Picking up her brush, she tried to tear through her hair in preparation for sleep. Her frustration grew quickly as she was unable to get more than a few inches of motion in before the brush was caught up in the unruly mess. She groaned, loudly, and began the litany that she had said many times before. "I hate my hair! I hate it! I hate it! I'm going to cut it all off, this time. I really am." She continued to brush and continued to grow more frustrated. She was making very little headway, and suddenly the half-hearted litany became more insistent.

"Argh! I hate this hair! This time I'm going to do it – I'm chopping it off. I'm tired of fighting with it!"

"Don't."

Turning, she saw her husband standing against the doorframe and her heart lurched. A distraction…

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

"Don't."

Severus wasn't aware that he had spoken the word aloud until she turned to look at him, poorly concealed surprise in her eyes. Surprise… and maybe a little more?

"Severus! I didn't know you were there…"

He debated inwardly for a moment before he decided to continue. He hadn't meant to say the word aloud, but it could only further his own agenda. He pushed away from the doorway and walked over to her. "Don't," he repeated silkily. "Don't cut it." She stared at him, lips parted as she obviously tried to work out his intentions.

Gently, he took the brush from her hands and pulled her over to the bed. "Sit," he said smoothly and with a questioning look she settled where he indicated, near the head of the bed. "This is much more comfortable than that bench." With a slight shrug she pulled her legs up on the bed and watched as he pulled off his teaching robes and frock coat before bending down to remove his boots and socks. Motioning her forward slightly, he slid behind her and picked up the brush.  

Settling himself with one leg on either side of her hips, he leaned back against the headboard and pulled the brush through the locks, working out the tangles. She sighed, her neck arching as the motion of the brush massaged her scalp. Once he had brushed all of her hair, he dropped the brush and began to run his fingers through it, once again fascinated by various textures and colors… she made a purring noise when he touched the back of her neck, and the sound caused a most interesting reaction in his body. His hand paused and he went still, hardly daring to breathe as she leaned back against his chest. He closed his eyes as he felt her lean into him, continuing to caress her hair as she snuggled against him. 

Turning her face into his neck, she whispered, "That feels lovely."

He made an affirmative noise, and she wriggled against him, maximizing the contact between their bodies while she turned more to the side, allowing her to see his face clearly. Her hand ran along his arm, lightly caressing, and his body continued to respond. Did the woman have any idea what she was doing?

"Severus…" The surprisingly tentative tone intrigued him.

"Yes?"

She remained silent for a moment, nervously toying with one of the buttons on his shirt. "Do… do we have to wait until Saturday?"

He felt a burst of triumph at her question, and rather than risk answering aloud he shifted and lowered his mouth to hers in a lingering kiss, allowing his fingers to run along her cheek and down to her neck… the skin was amazingly soft, and warm… She opened her mouth under his and he deepened the kiss, tasting… Gods, but he wanted to taste her… When she pulled away, they were both breathless, and he sat still, waiting for her to take the lead.

Turning to face him, she kneeled between his legs and he saw a note of shyness enter her eyes. Encouragingly he ran his hands slowly up her sides, enjoying the feel of the silky material against his skin. She leaned forward, kissing him again as her arms twined around his neck, her chest pressing against his.

He slid his hands up underneath her shirt and at the touch of his skin on her bare back he felt her moan into his mouth. She was so responsive… At the sound his erection twitched and he had to firmly steel himself against his desires… he had the overwhelming urge to rip the thin cloth from her body and introduce her to the many carnal pleasures that awaited her… to throw her down, pin her hips with his body, and pound into her as she writhed beneath him…

He urged her to sit back slightly so that he could run his hands up the front of her body, cupping her breasts, circling the hard nipples with his thumbs. Her top impeded his progress and he impatiently unbuttoned it and pushed it off, not noticing as her hands began to work at his buttons. His mouth left hers to trail kisses down her neck, and he licked at the sensitive spot under her ear, smiling to himself as she arched against him.

And then her fingers finished unbuttoning his shirt, and her warm hands explored his chest… he lightly ran his tongue along her collarbone, reaching the center notch just as her fingers trailed across the scar over his breastbone, and the Call rose with a swiftness that almost couldn't be denied.

Bind her to you.

Mark her.

Red formed at the corners of his vision and he opened his mouth over her neck, teeth just pressing against the skin… her gasp, dimly heard, caused him to pause and he trembled, resisting with all of his will…

BIND HER TO YOU.

…strength of will…

No!

He pulled his head back suddenly, breathing heavily, and grabbed her hands before they could graze the scar again… before they could awaken the Call again…

He leaned his forehead against her shoulder as he gathered his control about him once more.

"Severus?"

He lifted his head and stared at her, seeing the uncertainty in her eyes. "Just… regaining my control, my dear," he said in a low voice. She smiled shyly and he leaned in to kiss her, smoothly flipping them so that she lay beneath him. He kissed her slowly and thoroughly, aware of her shifting restlessly beneath him. He pulled back and smirked at her, lifting one eyebrow in a carefully calculated move. "Impatient, are we?"

They were no longer Hermione and Severus, brilliant Muggleborn and Death Eater spy – they were woman and man, skin and gasps, sweat and slickness, motion and heat… they were one body, undulating together, spiraling out of control…

Panting, he rolled to the side and brought her with him, twining his fingers in her hair, bringing bunches of it up to his face and inhaling deeply… Sleepily he grabbed his wand from the bedside table and whispered a cleaning charm before extinguishing the lights.

And they slept.

__________________________________________________________________

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please read and review, either way!! I know it's not as long as the previous monster chapters, but it accomplished what I needed it to, and it's still a relatively long chapter. I hope I didn't raise the bar too high for myself with the last couple ;). Anyhoo – PLEASE review – this chapter was up earlier than a week… it does make a difference!! And it makes me all fuzzy and happy…

Note: This is one of those chapters that is quite a bit longer on lordandladysnape.net and adultfanfiction.net – but it's just lengthened lemons. If you're interested, please go check out the "director's cut" on the other sites!

Influenza – The vanilla and cinnamon scented bath was JUST for you… now both me *and* Hermione smell like a Starbucks! :)

TheFluffyMuffinBunny – I'm glad you liked that scene!

Serpens Potio – More Dark Arts soon, yes. I won't promise what chapter, though. And keep your eyes peeled for clues…

Taysa – Hmm. Not answering those kinds of questions… sorry ;). Thanks for reviewing!

Mistress Nymphadora – (grin). Again, not answering… But thanks for the review. Lucius and Severus mix… yum.

Athena Linborn – Sorry, can't answer that question. I seem to be saying that a lot right now ;). But anything that's possibly plot related …whether it is or not, if it could be I'm not answering. Don't want to ruin the story!

Melwasul – Keep reading. ;)

Smothered Light – Thanks! I'm trying to avoid the clichés, but some are too delicious to not include…

Arafel2, DeniseRuth, Witch of Darkness, Dakota, Jinxd n cursed, The great and masterful Yoda – THANKS for the reviews!!!