The Romanticism of Simplicity
Chapter Twelve
The man on the other end of the wand was about Ty's height and around Gemma's age. His touseled brown hair stood up in every direction and his brilliant purple eyes sparkled despite his drastic frown.
"Adonia told me everything," he croaked, keeping his eyes locked on Gemma's.
"Did she now?" Ty smirked, taking a step closer to Gemma who had impulsively raised her wand and locked her elbow so tightly that her fingers were turning purple.
"Dullison knows as well," the boy continued. "He sent for you both."
"Oh, don't look so pleased with yourself Breckin," Sheridan sighed. "Just because Addy came blabbing to you doesn't mean she's finally gone soft for you. It just mean that all the other people worth telling already knew."
"Bugger off bitch!" he barked, the tips of his ears going pink.
"Oooh! Testy, testy!" Ruggle taunted.
Gemma could feel the moisture accumulating at her hair line. The guy didn't look stable and their mockery only seemed to be pushing him closer to the edge.
"So, what's with the wand?" Ty asked, slicing through the tension.
"I'm to make sure you get there." His mouth twitched into a sideways grin. "One way or the other."
"I see. And where IS he exactly?"
"Romania." He flicked his hand, adjusting his aim to Ty. "You know where to go."
He nodded and took hold of Gemma's wrist.
"What are you doing?" she questioned, looking up at him.
"We'll apparate together," he explained. "It's safer this way."
With that, he took one last look at Breckin and then there was a loud 'CRACK' and they were standing in the entryway of a very large home. She took a moment to scrutinize her surroundings. The framed paintings, the marble floors, the chandelier...it was...breathtaking.
After a few moments of unrestrained gawking, an abused looking house elf appeared in front of them.
"M-Mr. Dullison will s-see you now," it choked out. "In the s-sitting room."
"Thankyou Tilly," Ty replied.
"I didn't know people still kept house elves," Gemma pointed out, watching the tiny creature turn on it's heel and dissappear down the lavish corridor to the right of the equally splendid spiral staircase.
"OW!" Gemma yelped, feeling the tip of a pointed object puncture the soft spot between her shoulder blades.
"Get a move on then!" Breckin instructed.
She battled with the urge to curse the git right then and there and probably would have if it weren't for Ty's tight hold on her waist, guiding her forward. She allowed him to lead her down an airy hallway, adorned with what appeared to be family portraits, to yet another emmaculate room.
On either side of a glowing fireplace were two, dark brown leather couches and in the center between them lay a beautiful persian rug and oversized coffee table. The walls were lined with rows and rows of old books and scrolls and for a moment, it occured to her that they might have entered the wrong room. That thought quickly vanished though when she spotted the dark figure to their right, pouring himself a glass of an amber liquid she didn't recognize.
"Ah, Ty," he cooed. "How nice to see you again."
Ty didn't reciprocate the smile. It was never good when Dullison was in a cheery mood.
"And this must be the young lady Adonia was telling me about." In one swift, silky movement, almost as if he had glided, he closed the space between he and Gemma and outstretched his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you Ms. Herrin."
Reluctantly she gave him her hand and watched in disgust as he raised it to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles.
"And you are?"
"Dullison. Seth Dullison." He paused to examine her. "You're even more stunning than in the pictures."
"Pictures?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.
He tilted his head towards a bureau in the corner that was covered in newspapers and magazines and she quicly recognized them as the articles that had been written about her.
"Doing your history I see," she retorted, withdrawing her hand.
"I've been watching you for quite some time," he replied.
She didn't like the sound of that. "What for?"
"Ever since you and your friends took out our league here in Romania, I've been fascinated by you."
"I hadn't realized I was all that fascinating," she huffed.
He laughed, taking a seat on one of the couches. "Quite the contrary. I've found learning about you extremely engaging."
Ty listened on in horror. If he had known that Dullison had been researching Gemma he would have never brought her to him. This meant that he was planning something.
"Why would you want to learn about me?"
"Several reasons."
"Well indulge me would you?" She urged, following his finger to the couch opposite him. Ty did the same.
"One, because you're ravishing."
Gemma cringed inwardly. "I'm flattered."
"Two, because I know what an outstanding addition you would make to our team."
"Were you planning on approaching me or was all this just wishful thinking?" she questioned, watching him closely.
"I didn't need to. I knew that one way or the other you'd wind up here."
"So you're not surprised to see me then?"
"Not in the least."
"Well tell me Mr. Dullison," she prodded, leaning forward inquisitively. "Now that I'm here - now that you have me at your fingertips so to speak - what do you plan on doing with me?"
"I plan on making you a member," he grinned, an evil glint in his eyes.
"And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"
He snapped his fingers and the house elf reappeared, a wand in hand.
Dullison snatched it up and waved the poor thing off again.
"Not very smart," Gemma commented. "Walking around unarmed."
"Really?" he sneered. "I happen to see it as a sign of bravery."
"Mr. Dullison," Ty chirped, feeling ansy at the sight of the wand. "Is it really necessary..."
"Are you questioning me?" he snapped dangerously.
"Of course not. It's just that..."
"Is what necessary?" Gemma queried, moving to the edge of her seat.
Dullison turned his attention back to her. "You're an intelligent woman Ms. Herrin. I take it you've heard of the Dark Mark?"
She nodded, swallowing hard.
"Then you must also know that the Death Eaters wore that mark on their arm?"
She nodded again.
"Not only was it a useful tool, it was a sign of their loyalty."
Her hands had begun to sweat profusely. "What are you getting at?"
"As the second string of Death Eaters we too carry the mark."
"So you ARE followers of Voldemort!" she gasped.
"Our purpose is to defend his legacy," Ty explained, avoiding her eyes.
Gemma glanced over at him and then back to Dullison. "But how can the mark work if Voldemort is dead?"
"Simple spell my dear," he answered. "You'll see."
He reached over and grasped her wrist, pulling it towards him.
"What are you doing?" she fretted, working hard to keep her composure. He was much stronger than she would have guessed. 'Don't let him know you're scared' she told herself. 'You won't stand a chance.'
"You'll wear the mark well," he grinned, steadying his wand in his hand.
Before Gemma could protest, he had uttered the spell and she was suddenly enveloped in a fiery sensation. The heat spread throughout her body, flooding her limbs and settling behind her eyes. She wanted to cry out in agony, to scream for help but she couldn't move. It was as though her arm was being ripped off peice by peice - slowly, tactfully. She could feel her skin breaking, hear the pop of her blood bubbling over...it was the worst pain she had ever felt. Her arm began to shake violently from the pressure and she closed her eyes, coaxing herself to breath. After a few seconds...or was it hours...she heard a shrill scream and knew at once that it had escaped her lips. Everything was spinning...she was going to pass out...the pain was too much.
But just as she felt herself giving out, he drew back his wand and she found herself in someone's arms. She couldn't open her eyes to see who though.
"Take her home," Dullison ordered. "Make sure she rests. She's no good to me ill."
Ty picked her up, squeezing her close to his chest and without hesitation, apparated them both back into his flat.
"Gemma," he spoke, laying her on his bed and brushing the hair from her face.
Her eyes fluttered open and she groaned loudly.
He examined her arm. Blood was oozing from the deep valleys of the wound, seeping into his sheets. He thought back to the night he had recieved the same mark and how he'd tried to soothe it with ointments and potions. Nothing had helped. The only thing he could do was wait. Wait for the unbearable pain to cease.
"I'm sorry," he sighed.
There was an incredible pounding behind her ears. "How bad is it?"
"Bad."
"Will it heal?" she asked, big tears now welling up in her eyes.
"Eventually."
"Why haven't I seen yours?"
"It fades. The only time it's visible is when I'm needed."
She took in a shallow breath. "Does the pain go away?"
He nodded. "Yes."
He bent down and kissed away a tear trickling down her temple.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered.
"I chose to go there Ty," Gemma reasoned.
"I should have told you what would happen."
Somehow, she conjured up enough strength to sit up.
"It's over now," she assured him, brushing her fingertips across his flushed cheek.
"No," he shook. "It's just beginning."
That night, despite Ty's dissapproval, Gemma went back to her flat. She told him it was for more clothes, which was partially true, but in actuallity, she had promised to come back with a report.
She apparated into her living room, stumbling a bit and falling into something hard. She heard a chorus of gasps and felt two strong arms wrap around her waist.
"Bloody hell!"
She looked up and met Ron's troubled eyes.
"She's bleeding!" he cried, taking her over to the couch.
"I-I'm fine," she managed to choke out. "Just a scratch."
"Just a scratch my arse!" Harry retorted, leaning over her to get a better look.
Out of nowhere it seemed, Molly appeared, gauze and potion at the ready and as Ron held Gemma up, she began rolling up her sleeve.
"Dear, dear, dear," she tisked, about to put her two cents in. But once the sleeve was up and the wound was revealed, all she could do was stare. "T-this, this is the D-Dark Mark."
Everyone quickly crowded around, shocked.
Something between anger and outrage was welling up in Ron's gut, causing the tiny hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.
"What happened?" he questioned, holding her face as his mom worked.
"Dullison," she answered. "They're D-Death Eaters."
"Who's Dullison?" James asked.
"Seth Dullison," Gemma groaned.
"Seth Dullison?" Arthur exclaimed, thinking hard. "Of course! He dissappeared the year before Voldemort's death! We never found him!"
"HE did this to you?" Ron questioned.
Gemma could feel the heat iminating from his hands and knew that he was on the verge of a rampage.
"I'm okay Ron," she persisted, grinning half-heartedly. "I've had worse. Really I have."
The potion was turning out to be useless so Molly unraveled the gauze and began wrapping the arm. If she couldn't heal it, at least she could stop the bleeding.
"Does it hurt much?" Hermioned whinced.
"It's nothing I can't handle," Gemma pledged, looking anywhere but at the revolting injury.
Once the gauze was secure and the finishing touches had been put on, Molly stood up and glanced around at the small group of people around her.
"Well..." she began. "I for one am no longer in support of this little escapade!"
"Now really, Molly," Arthur breathed.
"Don't you 'now really, Molly' ME Arthur Weasley! This isn't right! If they can do something as horrid as THIS what's to stop them from finishing her off!? It's just too dangerous!"
"I understand that dear, but we can't just pull out. It's not that simple."
"Would you rather we sit back and watch her suffer!?"
He let out a an exasperated breath. "Of course not..."
"Molly," Gemma said, rising to her feet and pausing for a moment to steady herself. "I'll be all right. I can do this."
"It's not your abilities I'm questioning Gemma. It's the risk I'm worried about. It's just so...so..."
"I know," she sighed. "But we knew it would be going into it."
"We should have never asked you to do this."
Gemma took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "If it gets to be too much I won't hesitate to tell you."
Molly smiled weakly and hugged her tightly. "You're as much a part of this family as any of my own children and it tears me up inside to see you hurt."
They pulled apart and Gemma gathered her thoughts.
"I should probably hurry," she stated, running her hands through her hair tiredly.
"You're going back?" Ron asked, standing up next to her.
"I have to," she frowned. "I shouldn't even be here right now."
Dissapointed, he followed her into the bedroom.
"I miss you Gemma," he declared, leaning against the wall and stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"I miss you too."
"So make up an excuse. Tell him something came up."
"You know I can't do that Ron," she exclaimed, pulling a fresh pair of jeans from the top drawer of her dresser and tossing them haphazerdly onto the bed.
He hated not having her home at night, safe and sound in his arms - not having her there to snuggle up to when it got a little chilly or when the bed suddenly felt a little too large. But most of all, he hated knowing that she was with someone else. The thought of her body curled around Ty's...his hands in her hair...his lips on her neck...it was insufferable. He still hadn't been able to wipe his mind clean of the images of his arm around her waist that night in Hogsmeade and he practically drove himself mad picturing all the other places that he might be touching her. He'd never be able to kiss her again without wondering if that bastard had kissed her in the same spot in the same way.
"It'll all be over soon," Gemma said, tearing him from his thoughts. "It'll be over and we'll be able to move on."
"I hope so," he groaned.
It was awful putting him through this and the more involved her and Ty got the harder it became to stick with it. The stress of it all was taking it's toll on Ron, becoming more and more obvious with each passing day. His dark eyes, his mussed up hair, his shaky hands, they were all clear signs.
She watched as he studied a spot on the floor and felt a cold 'plop' in the pit of her stomach which could only be her heart.
"C'mere," she breathed, sitting down on the foot of the bed and motioning for him to join her.
"I hate him," he growled. "I hate that he gets to hold you and care for you while I'm stuck here...waiting."
"I know."
"I hate that I'm not out there with you. I hate that I can't protect you. I hate..."
She placed a warm hand on his cheek, stroking it with her thumb. "I know."
They sat for a while, staring into eachother's eyes, feeding off the other's energy until Ron laid back and pulled her on top of him.
"What are you doing?" she smiled sadly.
Carefully, not wanting to injure her arm any more than it already was, he rolled her over. "Give me an hour."
The look in his eyes was pleading and desperate and she wanted nothing more than to soothe his ache. But...she just couldn't.
"I can't," she expressed.
"One hour Gemma," he begged. "Stay with me for one hour."
"I have to get back. Ty's waiting."
"Let him wait," he retorted. "Right now you're with me."
He bent down and captured her lips gently with his own, savouring every second of her skin against his. She didn't resist - it was too wonderful to resist. Instead, she let herself sink further into the matress, pulling him closer as he deepend the embrace.
She parted her lips, inviting him in and sighed as their tongues met. He had a way of tangling them so that after a few seconds, she wasn't able to tell where she ended and he began.
"Ron," she moaned when he began tracing her jawline.
"Stay with me," he repeated in a low whisper.
The vibration of his voice on her neck sent shivers down her body.
He worked his way down to the collar of her shirt and his fingers in turn found the hem, easing it abover her head. Her bra was next, one strap at a time, trailing kisses along the way until his tongue met her nipple. As he flicked and teased, his free hand cupping her other breast, his hot breath was as pleasant as sunshine on a cold day.
It was such an incredible sensation that she had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying out when he sat up to pull off her jeans and panties and remove his own clothes.
Before he came back down, he took time to lock the door and mutter a silencing charm. The last thing they needed was one of his parents walking in on them.
While they kissed and stroked one another, she could feel him growing steadily against her belly and enjoyed the soft pressure. It wouldn't be long now...
"I love you," he said, positioning his hips over hers and taking her into his mouth once more.
She shuddered as he entered her and moaned when he slid back again, almost leaving her. Urgently, she took hold of his shoulders, pulling him back down to her.
"Stay close," she begged. "Please."
"Whatever you want," he replied, kissing her chin. "Whatever you want."
Chapter Twelve
The man on the other end of the wand was about Ty's height and around Gemma's age. His touseled brown hair stood up in every direction and his brilliant purple eyes sparkled despite his drastic frown.
"Adonia told me everything," he croaked, keeping his eyes locked on Gemma's.
"Did she now?" Ty smirked, taking a step closer to Gemma who had impulsively raised her wand and locked her elbow so tightly that her fingers were turning purple.
"Dullison knows as well," the boy continued. "He sent for you both."
"Oh, don't look so pleased with yourself Breckin," Sheridan sighed. "Just because Addy came blabbing to you doesn't mean she's finally gone soft for you. It just mean that all the other people worth telling already knew."
"Bugger off bitch!" he barked, the tips of his ears going pink.
"Oooh! Testy, testy!" Ruggle taunted.
Gemma could feel the moisture accumulating at her hair line. The guy didn't look stable and their mockery only seemed to be pushing him closer to the edge.
"So, what's with the wand?" Ty asked, slicing through the tension.
"I'm to make sure you get there." His mouth twitched into a sideways grin. "One way or the other."
"I see. And where IS he exactly?"
"Romania." He flicked his hand, adjusting his aim to Ty. "You know where to go."
He nodded and took hold of Gemma's wrist.
"What are you doing?" she questioned, looking up at him.
"We'll apparate together," he explained. "It's safer this way."
With that, he took one last look at Breckin and then there was a loud 'CRACK' and they were standing in the entryway of a very large home. She took a moment to scrutinize her surroundings. The framed paintings, the marble floors, the chandelier...it was...breathtaking.
After a few moments of unrestrained gawking, an abused looking house elf appeared in front of them.
"M-Mr. Dullison will s-see you now," it choked out. "In the s-sitting room."
"Thankyou Tilly," Ty replied.
"I didn't know people still kept house elves," Gemma pointed out, watching the tiny creature turn on it's heel and dissappear down the lavish corridor to the right of the equally splendid spiral staircase.
"OW!" Gemma yelped, feeling the tip of a pointed object puncture the soft spot between her shoulder blades.
"Get a move on then!" Breckin instructed.
She battled with the urge to curse the git right then and there and probably would have if it weren't for Ty's tight hold on her waist, guiding her forward. She allowed him to lead her down an airy hallway, adorned with what appeared to be family portraits, to yet another emmaculate room.
On either side of a glowing fireplace were two, dark brown leather couches and in the center between them lay a beautiful persian rug and oversized coffee table. The walls were lined with rows and rows of old books and scrolls and for a moment, it occured to her that they might have entered the wrong room. That thought quickly vanished though when she spotted the dark figure to their right, pouring himself a glass of an amber liquid she didn't recognize.
"Ah, Ty," he cooed. "How nice to see you again."
Ty didn't reciprocate the smile. It was never good when Dullison was in a cheery mood.
"And this must be the young lady Adonia was telling me about." In one swift, silky movement, almost as if he had glided, he closed the space between he and Gemma and outstretched his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you Ms. Herrin."
Reluctantly she gave him her hand and watched in disgust as he raised it to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles.
"And you are?"
"Dullison. Seth Dullison." He paused to examine her. "You're even more stunning than in the pictures."
"Pictures?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.
He tilted his head towards a bureau in the corner that was covered in newspapers and magazines and she quicly recognized them as the articles that had been written about her.
"Doing your history I see," she retorted, withdrawing her hand.
"I've been watching you for quite some time," he replied.
She didn't like the sound of that. "What for?"
"Ever since you and your friends took out our league here in Romania, I've been fascinated by you."
"I hadn't realized I was all that fascinating," she huffed.
He laughed, taking a seat on one of the couches. "Quite the contrary. I've found learning about you extremely engaging."
Ty listened on in horror. If he had known that Dullison had been researching Gemma he would have never brought her to him. This meant that he was planning something.
"Why would you want to learn about me?"
"Several reasons."
"Well indulge me would you?" She urged, following his finger to the couch opposite him. Ty did the same.
"One, because you're ravishing."
Gemma cringed inwardly. "I'm flattered."
"Two, because I know what an outstanding addition you would make to our team."
"Were you planning on approaching me or was all this just wishful thinking?" she questioned, watching him closely.
"I didn't need to. I knew that one way or the other you'd wind up here."
"So you're not surprised to see me then?"
"Not in the least."
"Well tell me Mr. Dullison," she prodded, leaning forward inquisitively. "Now that I'm here - now that you have me at your fingertips so to speak - what do you plan on doing with me?"
"I plan on making you a member," he grinned, an evil glint in his eyes.
"And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"
He snapped his fingers and the house elf reappeared, a wand in hand.
Dullison snatched it up and waved the poor thing off again.
"Not very smart," Gemma commented. "Walking around unarmed."
"Really?" he sneered. "I happen to see it as a sign of bravery."
"Mr. Dullison," Ty chirped, feeling ansy at the sight of the wand. "Is it really necessary..."
"Are you questioning me?" he snapped dangerously.
"Of course not. It's just that..."
"Is what necessary?" Gemma queried, moving to the edge of her seat.
Dullison turned his attention back to her. "You're an intelligent woman Ms. Herrin. I take it you've heard of the Dark Mark?"
She nodded, swallowing hard.
"Then you must also know that the Death Eaters wore that mark on their arm?"
She nodded again.
"Not only was it a useful tool, it was a sign of their loyalty."
Her hands had begun to sweat profusely. "What are you getting at?"
"As the second string of Death Eaters we too carry the mark."
"So you ARE followers of Voldemort!" she gasped.
"Our purpose is to defend his legacy," Ty explained, avoiding her eyes.
Gemma glanced over at him and then back to Dullison. "But how can the mark work if Voldemort is dead?"
"Simple spell my dear," he answered. "You'll see."
He reached over and grasped her wrist, pulling it towards him.
"What are you doing?" she fretted, working hard to keep her composure. He was much stronger than she would have guessed. 'Don't let him know you're scared' she told herself. 'You won't stand a chance.'
"You'll wear the mark well," he grinned, steadying his wand in his hand.
Before Gemma could protest, he had uttered the spell and she was suddenly enveloped in a fiery sensation. The heat spread throughout her body, flooding her limbs and settling behind her eyes. She wanted to cry out in agony, to scream for help but she couldn't move. It was as though her arm was being ripped off peice by peice - slowly, tactfully. She could feel her skin breaking, hear the pop of her blood bubbling over...it was the worst pain she had ever felt. Her arm began to shake violently from the pressure and she closed her eyes, coaxing herself to breath. After a few seconds...or was it hours...she heard a shrill scream and knew at once that it had escaped her lips. Everything was spinning...she was going to pass out...the pain was too much.
But just as she felt herself giving out, he drew back his wand and she found herself in someone's arms. She couldn't open her eyes to see who though.
"Take her home," Dullison ordered. "Make sure she rests. She's no good to me ill."
Ty picked her up, squeezing her close to his chest and without hesitation, apparated them both back into his flat.
"Gemma," he spoke, laying her on his bed and brushing the hair from her face.
Her eyes fluttered open and she groaned loudly.
He examined her arm. Blood was oozing from the deep valleys of the wound, seeping into his sheets. He thought back to the night he had recieved the same mark and how he'd tried to soothe it with ointments and potions. Nothing had helped. The only thing he could do was wait. Wait for the unbearable pain to cease.
"I'm sorry," he sighed.
There was an incredible pounding behind her ears. "How bad is it?"
"Bad."
"Will it heal?" she asked, big tears now welling up in her eyes.
"Eventually."
"Why haven't I seen yours?"
"It fades. The only time it's visible is when I'm needed."
She took in a shallow breath. "Does the pain go away?"
He nodded. "Yes."
He bent down and kissed away a tear trickling down her temple.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered.
"I chose to go there Ty," Gemma reasoned.
"I should have told you what would happen."
Somehow, she conjured up enough strength to sit up.
"It's over now," she assured him, brushing her fingertips across his flushed cheek.
"No," he shook. "It's just beginning."
That night, despite Ty's dissapproval, Gemma went back to her flat. She told him it was for more clothes, which was partially true, but in actuallity, she had promised to come back with a report.
She apparated into her living room, stumbling a bit and falling into something hard. She heard a chorus of gasps and felt two strong arms wrap around her waist.
"Bloody hell!"
She looked up and met Ron's troubled eyes.
"She's bleeding!" he cried, taking her over to the couch.
"I-I'm fine," she managed to choke out. "Just a scratch."
"Just a scratch my arse!" Harry retorted, leaning over her to get a better look.
Out of nowhere it seemed, Molly appeared, gauze and potion at the ready and as Ron held Gemma up, she began rolling up her sleeve.
"Dear, dear, dear," she tisked, about to put her two cents in. But once the sleeve was up and the wound was revealed, all she could do was stare. "T-this, this is the D-Dark Mark."
Everyone quickly crowded around, shocked.
Something between anger and outrage was welling up in Ron's gut, causing the tiny hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.
"What happened?" he questioned, holding her face as his mom worked.
"Dullison," she answered. "They're D-Death Eaters."
"Who's Dullison?" James asked.
"Seth Dullison," Gemma groaned.
"Seth Dullison?" Arthur exclaimed, thinking hard. "Of course! He dissappeared the year before Voldemort's death! We never found him!"
"HE did this to you?" Ron questioned.
Gemma could feel the heat iminating from his hands and knew that he was on the verge of a rampage.
"I'm okay Ron," she persisted, grinning half-heartedly. "I've had worse. Really I have."
The potion was turning out to be useless so Molly unraveled the gauze and began wrapping the arm. If she couldn't heal it, at least she could stop the bleeding.
"Does it hurt much?" Hermioned whinced.
"It's nothing I can't handle," Gemma pledged, looking anywhere but at the revolting injury.
Once the gauze was secure and the finishing touches had been put on, Molly stood up and glanced around at the small group of people around her.
"Well..." she began. "I for one am no longer in support of this little escapade!"
"Now really, Molly," Arthur breathed.
"Don't you 'now really, Molly' ME Arthur Weasley! This isn't right! If they can do something as horrid as THIS what's to stop them from finishing her off!? It's just too dangerous!"
"I understand that dear, but we can't just pull out. It's not that simple."
"Would you rather we sit back and watch her suffer!?"
He let out a an exasperated breath. "Of course not..."
"Molly," Gemma said, rising to her feet and pausing for a moment to steady herself. "I'll be all right. I can do this."
"It's not your abilities I'm questioning Gemma. It's the risk I'm worried about. It's just so...so..."
"I know," she sighed. "But we knew it would be going into it."
"We should have never asked you to do this."
Gemma took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "If it gets to be too much I won't hesitate to tell you."
Molly smiled weakly and hugged her tightly. "You're as much a part of this family as any of my own children and it tears me up inside to see you hurt."
They pulled apart and Gemma gathered her thoughts.
"I should probably hurry," she stated, running her hands through her hair tiredly.
"You're going back?" Ron asked, standing up next to her.
"I have to," she frowned. "I shouldn't even be here right now."
Dissapointed, he followed her into the bedroom.
"I miss you Gemma," he declared, leaning against the wall and stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"I miss you too."
"So make up an excuse. Tell him something came up."
"You know I can't do that Ron," she exclaimed, pulling a fresh pair of jeans from the top drawer of her dresser and tossing them haphazerdly onto the bed.
He hated not having her home at night, safe and sound in his arms - not having her there to snuggle up to when it got a little chilly or when the bed suddenly felt a little too large. But most of all, he hated knowing that she was with someone else. The thought of her body curled around Ty's...his hands in her hair...his lips on her neck...it was insufferable. He still hadn't been able to wipe his mind clean of the images of his arm around her waist that night in Hogsmeade and he practically drove himself mad picturing all the other places that he might be touching her. He'd never be able to kiss her again without wondering if that bastard had kissed her in the same spot in the same way.
"It'll all be over soon," Gemma said, tearing him from his thoughts. "It'll be over and we'll be able to move on."
"I hope so," he groaned.
It was awful putting him through this and the more involved her and Ty got the harder it became to stick with it. The stress of it all was taking it's toll on Ron, becoming more and more obvious with each passing day. His dark eyes, his mussed up hair, his shaky hands, they were all clear signs.
She watched as he studied a spot on the floor and felt a cold 'plop' in the pit of her stomach which could only be her heart.
"C'mere," she breathed, sitting down on the foot of the bed and motioning for him to join her.
"I hate him," he growled. "I hate that he gets to hold you and care for you while I'm stuck here...waiting."
"I know."
"I hate that I'm not out there with you. I hate that I can't protect you. I hate..."
She placed a warm hand on his cheek, stroking it with her thumb. "I know."
They sat for a while, staring into eachother's eyes, feeding off the other's energy until Ron laid back and pulled her on top of him.
"What are you doing?" she smiled sadly.
Carefully, not wanting to injure her arm any more than it already was, he rolled her over. "Give me an hour."
The look in his eyes was pleading and desperate and she wanted nothing more than to soothe his ache. But...she just couldn't.
"I can't," she expressed.
"One hour Gemma," he begged. "Stay with me for one hour."
"I have to get back. Ty's waiting."
"Let him wait," he retorted. "Right now you're with me."
He bent down and captured her lips gently with his own, savouring every second of her skin against his. She didn't resist - it was too wonderful to resist. Instead, she let herself sink further into the matress, pulling him closer as he deepend the embrace.
She parted her lips, inviting him in and sighed as their tongues met. He had a way of tangling them so that after a few seconds, she wasn't able to tell where she ended and he began.
"Ron," she moaned when he began tracing her jawline.
"Stay with me," he repeated in a low whisper.
The vibration of his voice on her neck sent shivers down her body.
He worked his way down to the collar of her shirt and his fingers in turn found the hem, easing it abover her head. Her bra was next, one strap at a time, trailing kisses along the way until his tongue met her nipple. As he flicked and teased, his free hand cupping her other breast, his hot breath was as pleasant as sunshine on a cold day.
It was such an incredible sensation that she had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying out when he sat up to pull off her jeans and panties and remove his own clothes.
Before he came back down, he took time to lock the door and mutter a silencing charm. The last thing they needed was one of his parents walking in on them.
While they kissed and stroked one another, she could feel him growing steadily against her belly and enjoyed the soft pressure. It wouldn't be long now...
"I love you," he said, positioning his hips over hers and taking her into his mouth once more.
She shuddered as he entered her and moaned when he slid back again, almost leaving her. Urgently, she took hold of his shoulders, pulling him back down to her.
"Stay close," she begged. "Please."
"Whatever you want," he replied, kissing her chin. "Whatever you want."