Disclaimer: Mon aeroglisseur e pleinne d'enguilles.
A/N: To answer the many questions in the reviews of the former chapter- the chapter title was from Sting's 'Russians,' a song written in the eighties about the cold war, which I hear was pretty scary, with such excellent lines as 'We share the same biology regardless of ideology,' 'there is no monopoly of common sense on either side of the political fence,' 'there's no such thing as a winnable war' (one that I take particularly to heart) and, of course, 'how can I save my little boy from Oppenheimer's deadly toy,' which refers to the fact that he has no hope of protecting his child should the world go mad and people start lobbing Mr Oppenheimer's invention, the nuclear bomb, at each other. I used the title I did because I've been listening to Sting, and also I felt it had a lot of connection to how Hermione was feeling. If you haven't heard this song it's a damn shame, as it's great, and if you haven't heard of Sting- he's the former lead singer of The Police, whose song 'Don't Stand So Close To Me' people seem fond of using as a plot bunny for SS/HG stories (because it appeals to all us sick little girls who had sick little fantasies about seducing a teacher- which were wrong, WRONG, but we still had them). If you haven't heard of them, either, then I'm sorry, I can't help ya.
Chapter Thirty-One Les Musee Rodin
''Mione, you knew this might happen,' Ailie said sympathetically, sitting next to her friend on the couch by the fire. 'It's a good thing! I get to go home!'
'I know,' Hermione said, looking down for a moment. She smiled thinly, and attempted to brighten up. 'I'm happy for you. It's such good news, your coven being okay.'
Ailie sighed inwardly, cursing Under for his usual tactlessness. She had been friends with him for nearly all her life, but it didn't mean he didn't annoy her sometimes.
'Herm, I'm sorry you had to find out about this so quickly,' she said, patting her friend's hand. 'I wanted to break it to you gently. But I have to go- they're the only family I've got.'
'I know,' Hermione repeated, sitting up straighter. 'You should go. They're where you belong, and it's wonderful that you *can* go back. It's just... it's a bit of a shock. I didn't think you'd be leaving so soon.'
Ailie sighed again as she thought of the second less than tactful thing her beloved friend had done, announcing at breakfast that they'd be leaving the next day. Not used to wizarding ways, Under wanted to be rid of them all as soon as possible.
'I'm sorry about that,' Ailie said. 'I tried to talk to Under, but he's pretty determined about it.' She watched as Hermione looked down again, and melted slightly.
'Tell you what,' she said. 'I'll try and talk Under into staying a few more days. Okay?' She was rewarded with a small, sad smile.
**
In the end, it was agreed that Ailie and Under would stay until after the summer solstice ball. After all the preparation to celebrate something so important to the Wiccan, it was a little strange that she would be leaving only a few days beforehand. Also, it seemed an appropriate way to send her off.
The danger for Ailie and Under, however, was not considered to be entirely over. It was possible that if Ailie was suddenly revealed as a member of a mysterious hermit coven from the wilds of Scotland, suspicions would be aroused, putting not only her and her coven in danger, but revealing Snape as a spy. Under's arrival, therefore, was explained away as the visit of a pining boyfriend, and Ailie's imminent departure was mentioned to no-one who didn't already know.
Fortunately the final preparations for the ball kept Hermione busy, and therefore kept her mind off Ailie's leaving. It was easier, somehow, that she didn't have to talk about it, almost as though it wasn't really happening. Ailie spent most of her time, understandably, with Under, re- forming the bond that had existed between them for most of their lives, which meant the goodbyes were put off.
The day of the ball was all too soon upon them. Hermione spent the morning helping the house elves with last-minute preparations and avoiding thinking about how badly the ball was going to go. At four o'clock, however, Ailie walked into the great hall and grabbed Hermione's arm.
'It's time for you to get ready,' she said, ignoring Hermione's shocked look as she began to drag her from the hall.
'Ailie, I can't possibly-' she began, but was interrupted.
'You can, actually,' Madam Hooch called from the doorway, on her way in. She was accompanied by Poppy who was loaded down with lengths of ivy.
'Freya and I will take over from here, Hermione,' Poppy said, dumping the foliage on a table and blowing a stray hair from her face. 'Minerva and Esme will be along as soon as their last classes are over.'
'So you don't have to worry about it,' concluded Hooch, firmly pushing Hermione toward the door. Ailie grinned up at her.
Knowing a defeat when she saw one, Hermione let herself be dragged up to Ailie's rooms, seeing with surprise that an afternoon tea awaited them, spread out daintily on the table by the window. Their preparations for the evening were also set out, dresses neatly laid out on the couch, pressed and starched, and their various other preparations for the evening set out on the coffee table.
Ailie stood and waited by the tea table, looking a little nervous.
'Minerva told me about the tradition of afternoon tea,' she said shyly. 'I wanted to give it a try before I left.'
With a soft smile Hermione sat down. She looked at the delicacies set out for them, and blinked.
'Sugared rose petals,' she said, reaching out to pick one up. 'I remember my grandmother used to make these.'
'Minerva said that it was something her mother used to serve,' Ailie shrugged. 'There's sugared violets, too. And petit four.' She looked at the food anxiously, then up at Hermione. 'Is it all right?'
'Perfect,' Hermione said. After a second's contemplation, she popped the rose petal into her mouth, savouring the delicate sweetness of it. Following her lead, Ailie took one as well.
'Hmm,' she said, chewing with a look of contemplation. 'It's... interesting.' She caught Hermione's eye, and grimaced. 'The sugar smothers it.'
Hermione chuckled, enjoying Ailie's honesty, and reached over to pour out the tea.
They spent a quiet hour sipping and supping, and talking gently of nothing much. Hermione suspected that Ailie was giving her her last piece of wizardness, summing up all she had been in the time she had been with them so that she could move on. Though she was quiet, there was an energy in her that Hermione had never seen before.
As the last of the tea disappeared, Ailie's expression became serious.
'I am sorry to be leaving you, Hermione. You have been a very good friend to me.'
Hermione blinked back the sudden wetness in her eyes. The words seemed to sweep away a wall in her mind, all the grief for her friend's departure coming suddenly rushing forth.
'You have been a good friend to me, too,' she answered after a moment, giving the other girl a sad smile. Ailie's expression didn't alter.
'I shan't be able to come back, you know,' she said, looking down. Hermione bit her lip. It was strange, she reflected, how the childhood hope for a happy ending never really went away, regardless of logic or reason. Now that Ailie had said it, her disappearance was irrefutable, real.
She looked down at her cup, realising somehow that her friend was asking her to make it okay.
'You belong with your people,' she said, and felt Ailie relax slightly.
The tension of the previous moment gone, Ailie leant over and hugged her tightly.
'Come on,' she said, pulling away. 'If I don't have you ready by eight the girls will have my head.'
The next two hours were spent in furious primping, preening and adjusting. Ailie had obviously been spending some time in the study of beauty spells, flicking her wand here and there to alter Hermione's hair, or fit her dress more elegantly. By the time it was over, Hermione felt somewhat like a live doll.
Ailie stepped back to admire her work.
'Beautiful,' she said with a broad smile. 'Even if I do say so myself.'
Ailie turned Hermione around to look in the mirror, and Hermione contemplated herself. For once, she wasn't ashamed to agree with the compliment. The teachers had decided to fully participate in this ball, not acting solely as chaperones as they usually would. Hermione had at first been trepidatious of wearing a ball gown, but the two young girls had gone with professors Sprout and McGonagall the previous weekend to choose something to wear, and Minerva had assured Hermione that her choice was appropriate.
She was certainly looking better than her everyday self, she decided, with her hair sleek, in big brown curls that trailed from a loose bun at the top of her head. Her brown eyes looked even darker than normal with the light amount of eye shadow Ailie had applied, her lips a healthy red tint without being smothered in lipstick. Her dress was a light blue, an unusual choice for her, but one that set off her creamy white skin admirably, the strapless gown closing gracefully on her waist and flowing gently into a full skirt at her ankles. A single, hair-thin wire of silver held a tiny diamond at her neck, which caught and flared the colours of the rainbow in the light. The ensemble was attractive, while still affirming her place as an adult and a teacher, should any students decide to question her authority.
With a smile, Hermione picked up her soft wrap and settled it over her shoulders while Ailie made her final preparations. Her friend had taken the unusual route of selecting a pantsuit for the occasion, in forest green silk. The way it fitted her made her look like even more like an elf than usual, and set off the impish look in her eyes.
Soon the two were ready. Though many wizardly conventions had been kept up for the ball on the most part, it was necessary to have some physical bond with the earth to achieve the purpose of the evening, and so everyone was required to go barefoot. The connection with the stones of the castle would highlight the natural movements of the earth.
Hermione was uncertain about why they were leaving so early, as dinner would not be served until nine, but as Ailie led her to the staff lounge she found that several teachers had decided to meet for pre-prandial drinks. Professor Flitwick handed her a small glass of wine as she walked in, and with the knowledge that the ball could now virtually run itself, Hermione settled in to enjoy the evening.
Across the room, several female professors watched her ensuing conversation with Filibus Flitwick with interest.
'It's good to see her finally relaxing,' Hooch said, a tinge of concern in her voice.
'She does look beautiful tonight,' Poppy sighed next to her. 'I remember when I was that young...'
'I don't,' McGonagall said. 'It's almost sixty years ago for me.'
'Don't act all senile, Minerva,' Professor Sprout said with a leer. 'You just can't remember what you did because of all the mead that was involved.'
'You were no angel yourself, Esmerelda Sprout,' McGonagall retorted. 'I remember some of the things you got up to. Riding naked through Oxford at three in the morning, tattooing the words 'I love Haggis' on Argus Filch's dog-'
'And generally raising Cain, I know,' Sprout replied. 'That's what I get for having you as a cousin. Is there anything you don't remember?'
'I think she forgot the fact that she has a tattoo of a newt on her thigh,' Hooch chuckled. The other three were silent for a moment.
'How did you-' McGonagall began.
'I have my ways,' Hooch drawled. She raised an eyebrow at McGonagall. 'I had a rather interesting conversation with Antonius Black one afternoon.'
Poppy gaped at McGonagall. 'You- with Sirius Black's uncle?'
'So, does it run in the family?' Sprout asked shrewdly.
'I don't know what you're talking about,' Minerva said, putting her nose in the air. 'Besides, that was thirty years ago!'
'Twenty,' Hooch countered. McGonagall pressed her lips together and gave Hooch a glare.
'I wonder if Hermione has any tattoos?' Sprout asked. Poppy gave her a strange look, and she shrugged. 'Well, so many people have them. I've got one, Freya's got one, I've seen one on Ailie's ankle-'
'Harry Potter's got one,' Hooch interrupted. 'Weasley twins gave it to him his sixth year, when they came down for the quiddich final and he inhaled the snitch again in the first three seconds. Three centimetre snitch, on his left buttock.'
The other three gaped at her.
Sprout's eyes narrowed. 'Freya, how did you-'
Hooch's eyes widened and she held up her hands in supplication. 'I was at the party-'
'I think someone has a tattoo fetish,' Poppy said, looking slyly at the sports teacher.
'There is nothing wrong with a healthy interest in epidermal embellishment,' Hooch said, holding her head high.
'Certainly,' McGonagall said, glancing away to hide her grin.
On the other side of the room, the headmaster moved to join in the conversation with Hermione and Flitwick.
'I was just discussing the potential for preservative charms on delicate potions with our young colleague here,' Flitwick said. 'I really do think she's been spending too much time in the dungeons with Severus,' he added with a twinkle to Dumbledore. 'She's using the same argument he usually does.'
'Although hopefully more politely,' Hermione answered with a small smile. 'But it is true, I'm afraid the magical flux in the charm zone would damage the unstable elements of a sensitive potion.'
Flitwick sighed good-naturedly, and spread his hands. 'I believe we will have to agree to disagree, for the moment.' Hermione inclined her head in agreement, and Dumbledore smiled at his two staff. Near the door, a house elf coughed politely for attention and announced that students were entering the hall for dinner. Hermione excused herself and followed the house elf from the room.
'Our young Miss Granger certainly seems to have settled in at last,' Flitwick said to his headmaster. 'It is so nice to see her in her element.'
'Yes, old friend,' Dumbledore replied.
***
The dinner prepared for the evening had been designed to enhance the children's connection with the solstice. Bread, baked with untreated flour, strawberries, potato pancakes, and various other foods were arranged to improve the tactile sensation of eating the bounties of the earth. Hermione walked past the tables on her way to her seat, observing the various fashions the children had donned for the occasion, and was surprised not to hear too many complaints about the food. After the delights of the Hallowe'en feast every year, she had expected a less than enthusiastic reception of such simple fare, but the students appeared to be eating happily. Perhaps the novelty of a small amount of wine, spiked with the connection potion, given to every student was enough to amuse them.
Hermione reached the table and took her seat next to Ailie, who, in her role as 'cousin reunited with boyfriend' was sitting close to Under and whispering in his ear. Hermione observed the mischievous glance Ailie sent her way as she sat down, and smiled. Next to her, Madam Hooch greeted her cheerily, remarking on her dress and commenting on the success of the feast.
Not at all hungry, Hermione took only a few strawberries from their punnet as the food was handed around. Madam Hooch soon became involved in a conversation with her other dinner partner and Hermione was free to look around, suiting her mood perfectly. She looked up at the hall's roof, showing the perfect sky that had yet to darken. She hadn't yet tasted her wine, and so hadn't been affected by the potion it contained, but she could see the effect of it slowly taking place around the hall. The students who had rushed their wine were easily recognisable by their silent faces; many had their hands spread on the wooden tables in front of them, their expressions willed with awe. Hermione smiled, pleased with her work. The thought drew her gaze to Severus, who also sat quietly observing the goings on in the hall. His expression was characteristically unreadable, his hands folded on the table in front of him as his gaze swept the hall. As Hermione watched, his gaze swept to her, and she inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment before he looked away.
She was frankly surprised that he hadn't managed to find an excuse to get out of the event, though he probably would take his usual relish in patrolling the grounds, she supposed. She remembered Ron's fury after he was caught by Snape with Sarah Henderson, approximately thirty seconds away from Ron's breaching that Ravenclaw maiden's defences, or so Ron claimed. Personally, she doubted it- the boys of the school seemed to have the impression that a girl, once taken to the slightly smelly, damp patch of grass at the edge of the lake, and enticed to strain their neck looking up at the stars for half an hour, would suddenly develop an undeniable urge to rip their clothes off and have rampant sex on the cold hard ground, in almost full view of the castle.
The thought made her smile, and she looked up to see that Snape was looking at her again. His gaze passed over her, and, deciding it was time to join the party, Hermione lifted her wine to her lips.
The meal moved on at an easy pace, the chatter that usually filled the great hall gradually toning down to a hushed murmur. As the light in the sky slowly faded into darkness, more and more students and staff began to look upwards, planting their bare feet firmly on the ground. Hermione began to feel a pulse around her, as though the stones of the castle were breathing with her, and she wriggled her feet along the ground to feel it. She stroked the table in front of her, feeling the old life force of the tree it used to be, still resting in the wood. Her eye caught sight of Ailie watching her doings intently, a broad grin on her face. Obviously, the Wiccan was enjoying the fact that everybody was in her world, for once.
The moon was nearing its zenith when Dumbledore stood, indicating that everyone follow his example. Everyone did, in a silence that was eerie in the great hall. Dumbledore reached his arm out and clicked his fingers, and the furnishings of the hall disappeared. He preceded the rest of the staff from their platform down to the main part of the hall, where he motioned for the students and staff to make a circle.
Having prepared for the ball, Hermione knew that the moon's zenith was the most powerful part of the evening, and knew what incantations they would perform. The power of the feeling she had as she stood between Ailie and Freya Hooch, however, still startled her. Looking around, she had another surprise; not only had Filch joined them, but the house elves were making their way into the room, joining the circle here and there. Dobby stepped in between Ailie and herself, and Hermione felt a surge of pride that the little house elf had chosen to participate in this next to her. Dobby looked up at her and smiled, nodding in greeting.
Dumbledore looked around once everyone had stopped moving, then produced a chalice which Hermione knew would be filled with water. Turning to Minerva McGonagall, who was standing by his side, Dumbledore closed both of their hands over the cup, murmuring the beginning of the incantation. The spell had to be begun by the heads of the coven, usually two sisters, a mother and daughter, or lifepartners; Dumbledore and McGonagall were an obvious choice for this function, being the metaphorical parents of the students in their care. Dumbledore spoke the first words, and McGonagall spoke after him, their two voices weaving an incantation that was almost visible around the cup. After the spell was complete, Dumbledore would take the chalice to the youngest member of the school as a sign of the strength of their coven, valuing old and new members alike.
The spell became much more interesting once the first parts were complete. The purpose of the incantation was to link the coven more strongly together, as well as linking them more strongly with the earth. The chalice would pull whoever held it to the person they had a weak connection to, both members getting down on their knees facing each other as the original holder of the chalice drank, then passed it on to the other to drink.
Of course, a lot of people failed to connect with numerous members of the school; almost the entirety of the Slytherin and Gryffindor houses would have to toast to every member of the other house if the idea was to connect to every individual you didn't gel with. But the purpose of the ceremony wasn't wrapped up in personality; the chalice would simply lead the person to one of the people they didn't completely connect with, meaning that everyone in the circle would hold it only once. The quirk of the spell would simply prevent soulmates wasting the unity of the solstice by connecting superfluously.
A little Ravenclaw happened to be the youngest member of the school, and Hermione watched as the headmaster knelt in front of the child and as they both drank. The headmaster walked back to his place in the circle, and the young Ravenclaw tremblingly followed the cup across the circle to where a towering Slytherin stood, kneeling before him only slightly less reluctantly than the Slytherin himself kneeled. The two drank, and the cup moved on.
Various other unsurprising pairings took place. Hermione was amused to see that Freya Hooch looked very grim as the cup led her across the circle to a seventh-year Hufflepuff that Hermione knew was worse than even herself at sport. The cup also got a surprising way through the group before it finally led someone to Snape; when it did, it was a third-year Slytherin who was led across. Hermione sensed Hooch raise her eyebrows beside her, but was quickly intrigued as Snape drank from the cup, stood, drank from the cup again, and simply passed it to Professor Flitwick on his right. She risked a small glance at Dumbledore, whose expression was momentarily sad before he returned his attention to the ceremony. The others watched as Flitwick knelt before a particularly bulky Slytherin sixth-year, who Hermione knew was on their quiddich team, but Hermione looked back at Snape. He was no longer watching the ritual; his eyes were trained on the ground below him, his hands loosely crossed in front of him. Looking at him, Hermione felt a wave of sadness that only dispelled slightly when she observed Lionel Highbury, the young teacher of Practical Magic, approaching her with the cup.
Hermione drank, not really surprised that Highbury didn't connect with her. She was again startled by the unexpected rush of feelings as her hands closed around the cup; feeling the life energy of her colleague imprinted on the warm silver, she had a sudden flash of understanding for him, and for the ceremony. Obviously, the sharing of drink wasn't just symbolic.
She waited as the cup began to tug at her, and was even more surprised when it led her to her left, to Ailie. Her friend's eyes were filled with understanding as they knelt, and as Hermione sipped, the sudden rush of earth energy gave her a better insight of what the Wiccan was about, something she hadn't realised she was missing.
The chalice made its way from person to person, never emptying. It was eventually passed back to Dumbledore by a moody-looking fifth year Ravenclaw boy, and the Headmaster waited for the boy to return to his place before walking to the middle of the circle. He extended his arm and slowly poured the remaining water out of the cup, a small stream of it falling to the ground with a splash and being absorbed into the stone of the floor. As it disappeared, first Minerva, then the staff, then everyone in the hall walked forward, reaching out to touch the back of whomever was in front of them. Hermione followed the tug, closing her eyes briefly as she walked forward to enjoy the feel of the stones beneath her feet. As her hand brushed some cloth, she opened her eyes to see her hand resting on the dark black material of Snape's dress robe two people in front of her. Knowing he could never know who was touching him anyway, she allowed herself to experience it, to participate in the unconscious flow of energies the crowd was celebrating.
Eventually, everyone dropped to their knees, letting their arms fall as they sat on the ground. Hermione slowly blinked, then looked around, feeling as though she was just waking up. The entire school sat on the floor around her, strangely together though spread out. It was as if everyone had been able to achieve their own personal space while still connecting with the group, no hurried need for some cliched group hug or uncomfortable social invasion.
She took in a deep breath. Dobby, sitting near her, smiled, standing up and brushing himself off. Behind him, Ailie and Under were on their feet already, hugging each other. Everyone else began to get to their feet, and Hermione stood, smiling affectionately at Dobby and squeezing his outstretched hand before he moved away. Around her, people were quietly greeting each other, occasionally giving one another a hug or a touch. Freya Hooch, quite near her, reached out and touched Hermione's hand with a smile before hugging Flitwick and Poppy. Hermione looked around the crowd, looking for a dark head, sensing there was something important she needed to do. Receiving hugs and touches, she moved forward until she found Snape, trapped in the crowd of people and looking slightly uncomfortable. Swiftly, she reached out and touched his hand, drawing his startled look to her. Following her instinct before she could think herself out of it, Hermione stepped forward and gave him a tight hug, feeling his arms close briefly around her before she stood back. She moved on before he could react.
Maybe, she thought, as she made her way out of the crowd, she wasn't the only person who wanted to hug Severus Snape tonight. But she had been the only one he had let do it.
***
Ten minutes later, Hermione watched as several of the more bold students led the way on the dance floor. The official part of the ball was over, the fellowship their ritual had created slowly fading as the moon began to wane, but it had sufficed to bring some unusual pairings on the dance floor as students finally breached the house boundaries.
Soft music, provided by the ghosts who had thoughtfully organised a phantom orchestra, floated on the air as the more timid students crowded around the tables to snack. Hermione watched the various other teachers patrol the room; their party would not really begin for another hour, after the younger students were sent to bed and it would be safe to throw off some of their teacherly solemnity.
Watching the students as they participated in a game that was so familiar to her, yet one she was no longer a part of, Hermione pondered the worth of growing up. In most ways, she had hated being stuck as a teenager, forever removed from actually being a friend of most of the people she admired because of her age- or lack thereof. Growing older had given her a better perspective on that, giving her an understanding of the boundaries of social interaction, and, most importantly, the surprising lack of them. These students would grow and see that the things they worried about now simply disappeared- or gained a menacing overtone that they could not prevent.
Two students exiting via the balcony doors reminded Hermione that she was a teacher, and she followed after them. They seemed to behave themselves, and so she made her way down to the garden, finding one or two couples to caution along the way- one unfortunate outcome of the ceremony they had performed was that many teenagers were not capable of discerning between the unity produced in the ritual and affection, and used the moonlight to explore their new feelings. Hermione even came across one or two couples paired up by the ritual, obviously mistaking it for a love spell. She met a few teachers along the way- most of the staff had realised the outcome of the ritual also.
She had wandered into a slightly more open part of the gardens when she almost stumbled across a more adult couple. Hermione had seen Ailie and Under sneak outside ten minutes or so before, but she was still startled to see them out here together. Their heads were close together, hands joined as they stood in the moonlight.
Hermione tilted her head to the side in amusement; somehow, she hadn't pictured Ailie and Under in a romantic way. She was just about to chuckle over Ailie's hidden romantic side when Ailie pulled Under's hand up and sliced it open with a dagger in her hand. Hermione gasped, as Under took the dagger and repeated the act on Ailie, joining their bleeding palms together in the air, leaning his forehead against hers as they both appeared to mutter something.
A feeling lit the air, so intimate that Hermione had to look away from them. Her eyes lit on a dark figure making his way toward the pair to her right, and, sensing that this was not a ritual that should be disturbed, Hermione quietly moved around so that she could sneak up behind Snape. She reached out and touched his hand before he could round a tree, startling both him and her when he jumped in reaction. He spun to face her, and Hermione could appreciate his skill when his defensive pose, preparation for an attack, changed smoothly to his usual impenetrable calm upon seeing her.
He raised an eyebrow in irritated enquiry, and Hermione silently moved him so he could see who the pair in the clearing really were. His eyes lit on the two Wiccans, their hands still raised in the moonlight, a soft glow between them as they muttered some sort of incantation. Nodding silently, he moved away, and Hermione followed him to the main path.
'Much luck student-baiting?' she asked, earning only a sarcastic glance in reply. Mentally, she shrugged it off, and sought for another topic. 'That new potion we tried on you and Ailie might be working if you didn't sense her,' she said, feeling the shift of gravel as they walked down the path together. Unconsciously, she copied his own pose, clasping her hands behind her back as she walked.
'Perhaps,' he answered. His tone wasn't exactly encouraging to conversation, but it didn't contain his usual 'leave-me-alone' bite, so Hermione ventured another comment.
'The potion worked quite well tonight, I thought,' she said. 'I didn't expect the effects to be so... strong.'
'Indeed,' he said. Hermione looked down, struck by the strangeness of seeing his bare feet keeping pace beside hers. He had nice feet, she thought; quite thin, with long, well-defined toes. She shook her head, wondering why she had noticed that.
'Dumbledore may expect us to have the cure for the common cold soon, I am certain,' Snape added, causing Hermione to look up in surprise. That almost sounded like a joke, but his face was perfectly still. She shook her head, feeling she must be mistaken.
'Well, I would prefer to find a better defence potion for you,' she answered, frowning in contemplation. 'You know, I think if we just altered- '
'Hermione!' A call came down the path ahead of them, and Freya Hooch and Poppy Pomfrey emerged into a patch of light. 'We were wondering where you'd got to.'
'Yes, we were just- Oh, hello, Severus.' Poppy looked at Hermione's walking partner, then back to Hermione, a trace of a smile in her eye that Hermione prayed Snape didn't catch.
'I will leave you ladies to your business,' Snape said abruptly, leaving them with a short bow. The three of them watched as he walked back into the darkness.
'You know,' said Hooch with a slight sigh, 'I know Severus is a complete prat, but occasionally he just does something chivalrous and olde- worlde on you.' She turned to look at Hermione. 'When you have him, can I borrow him once in a while?'
Hermione blushed into the darkness.
'Now, that's enough, Freya,' Poppy said, laying a hand on Hermione's arm and guiding her back toward the castle. 'Remember what happened last time we were teasing Hermione about Severus.'
'Yes, he pretended he had slept with her, if I recall,' Hooch muttered as they made their way along the path. 'Wishful thinking, I'd say.' Next to her, Hermione saw Poppy smile quietly.
They entered the hall to find that the younger students had left, leaving only sixth and seventh years- or at least those who hadn't been tired out- and teachers behind. The absence of the young students had allowed the teachers to let their hair down a little, and many were on the dance floor.
'Minerva's at it again,' Professor Sprout said, as they neared the near-empty teacher's table. She indicated the dance floor with a nod, and the other three looked to see McGonagall dancing with Hagrid.
'You're mean-spirited, Esmerelda,' Hermione said, taking a seat with the others. 'Minerva's just having a pleasant dance with him.'
'Bollocks- she's trying to cop a feel,' Hooch said, making Hermione laugh. She felt a tap at her shoulder, and looked up to see little Professor Flitwick holding out his hand to her.
'May I have this dance?' he asked, with a shy smile.
'Of course,' Hermione answered, smiling also. She had a soft spot for the friendly charms professor.
They entered the dance floor and Hermione was just finding out the difficulties of dancing with a man who was three feet shorter than her when Hagrid tapped Flitwick's shoulder.
''M cuttin' in, professor,' Hagrid said, grinning cheekily. Flitwick gracefully bowed out, and Hagrid grabbed Hermione's hand, swirling her around the room with little regard for the actual beat of the music.
'An' how's my little 'Mione,' he said, looking down gently at her. 'Only the prettiest girl at the ball,' he added.
Hermione blushed, and looked down. 'I'm glad you're here, Hagrid,' was her only answer, and she leant her head against his chest.
At the table, four witches watched the two dance.
'He cut short my dance,' grumbled Minerva.
Poppy clicked her tongue and looked at her friend. 'Come, now, Minerva. You have had three with him already.'
'He's the only male member of staff that can waltz,' Minerva complained, blatantly ignoring the evidence before her.
The dance finished, and Hermione made her way back to the table. The other four chatted for a while, but Hermione became conscious of a gaze on her. Looking up she saw Lionel Highbury eyeing her from the other end of the table and inwardly cringed. She hoped he didn't have any ideas about dancing with her.
Quickly, she leant forward to Hooch.
'Act like you're saying something deep and intriguing,' she whispered. Hooch looked at her in surprise, and the other three leant in closer.
'Why? What's the matter?' Poppy asked, also leaning forward.
Hermione sighed. 'Discreet' was certainly not the best word to describe this group. 'Lionel Highbury is watching me and I don't want to dance with him,' she explained.
Sprout leant back, nodding. 'Ah. Another victim of the evening's ceremony.'
'Well, I don't want to be one as well, so could you please pretend I'm deeply involved in conversation?'
'You are,' Hooch pointed out, but Minerva reached forward and patted Hermione's hand.
'Don't worry, dear,' she said. 'He seems to have got the message. He's turned away now.' Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, and sat back. She caught the mischievous look in Sprout's eye.
'You know,' Sprout said, looking at her. 'You say you weren't a victim of tonight's ceremony, but is that completely true?' Hermione frowned, puzzled, and Sprout raised her eyebrows. 'I noticed you in the embrace of a certain dark potions professor earlier this evening,' she said.
Hermione frowned even more until she remembered the hug she had given Snape, when she blushed.
'I didn't- it wasn't,' she said, cursing the heat she could feel on her cheeks. 'I was just- well, everybody was hugging, weren't they?' The four older women merely looked expectantly, and she shook her head and stood.
'You four are hopeless,' she said, adding a smile to show them she wasn't entirely serious. 'I'm going on patrol.' The others watched as she walked off, then looked knowingly at each other. As she left the room, Professor Snape entered through the balcony doors.
'We should send him after her,' Hooch said stoutly.
Poppy gave her a glance. 'And why is that, considering how successful our last attempts at matchmaking were? We almost made them stop talking to each other!'
'They got locked in a bottle together, didn't they?' Hooch replied. 'Quality time. Besides, you give up too easily, Pops- haven't you heard, "If at first you don't succeed-"'
""Give up before you make a complete fool of yourself, you stupid biddy,"' Poppy finished for her, and Sprout laughed.
'Well,' Minerva said, watching as Snape stalked to the edge of the room and stood against a wall, 'Hermione hugged Severus at the end of the ceremony.'
Esmerelda raised her eyebrows and nodded. 'And,' she said, '*he* didn't seem to mind.'
'Well, that's progress, at least, though I wish they'd get on with it.' Hooch rubbed her jaw, her eyes following Snape as he stalked back out of the room. 'There's nothing worse than two people frittering about for ages instead of just getting on with it like reasonable human beings.'
'You're such a- a *man* sometimes, Freya,' Poppy said. 'Don't you ever enjoy the anticipation? The excitement?' Hooch glared at her, and, crossing her arms, slumped back against her chair.
'I am not a man,' she grumbled. Silence reigned over the table for a few moments, while the others continued to watch the activity in the room.
'Besides,' Hooch began again, sitting up, 'if Severus doesn't do something soon, we'll have to wait the entire summer before we get any action.'
'Have you never heard of foreplay, Freya?' Sprout asked, laughing. Hooch sent her a hard look.
'Foreplay is all well and good,' she said, 'but I am a believer in the Big Bang theory. Especially when I'm participating vicariously.'
The others looked at her in amused disgust as Dumbledore approached the table.
'I don't suppose I might have a dance with the most charming Deputy Headmistress in the room?' he asked, extending his hand to McGonagall. Minerva rolled her eyes and stood.
'Yes, but only because it's too late for her to expect more charm from an old coot like you,' she said as she allowed him to leave her from the table.
The two began to dance to the soft music piping from an enchanted stereo, the band having packed up an hour before.
'So, still plotting over Severus, I see,' Dumbledore said, twinkling down at his friend.
Minerva looked at him. 'Really, Albus,' she said, shaking her head. 'You are a dear friend and I love you greatly, but sometimes you annoy the dickens out of me.' He shrugged.
'What more could a man ask for,' he said.
***
'I could cry salty tears...'
The music travelled up from the great hall, carried on the still night air. Hermione was infinitely glad she had been able to magick a muggle stereo system for the last half of the ball. There was something about Sarah Vaughan's sultry voice echoing through the halls of the castle that was more than magical. It brought back memories of her childhood; watching her parents as they washed the dinner dishes, her father singing softly in her mother's ear. They hadn't known she was watching, but that was part of the beauty of it.
She leant against the stone windowsill, watching the full moon glide over a mass of cloud. No wonder Ailie worshipped nature so, she thought. There was something beautiful in every part of it.
Weariness crept up her limbs as she stood, and silently Hermione stretched first one calf, then the other, watching the landscape outside. The ball was over; she probably should be helping the other teachers with the last of the clear-up, but the scene before her was just too peaceful.
A small noise in the corridor behind her made her turn, only to see Snape standing at the end of the hall. She straightened, and inclined her head in greeting. She was surprised when Snape not only returned the greeting, but stepped forward.
'Given up on your duties as teacher?' he asked, coming to stand beside her at the window. 'I'm certain many students are taking advantage of the moonlight and breaking rules.' The comment was harsh, but the voice that delivered it was low and silky. Against her will, Hermione felt a shiver shimmer down her spine.
Hermione looked up at him. 'I wouldn't dream of depriving you of your favourite occupation, Professor Snape,' she answered. Looking out at the lawn below, she continued, 'For years I've been certain that's the only reason you attend Hogwarts functions; for the pleasure of finding out trysts and delivering detentions.'
'It does have its advantages,' he answered, surprising Hermione yet again with his gentle tone. He leant against the casement and joined her in looking out across the landscape. 'Alas, students escape over summer.' His tone was wry; she could only guess how much he looked forward to student- free time.
'Ailie's gone,' Hermione said, eventually. Her voice was quiet.
'I know,' Snape answered, just as quietly.
'But how.?' Hermione asked, puzzled. Ailie had left in utmost secrecy; Hermione figured it was to prevent any sort of attack. She had only discovered Ailie's absence when she had visited their rooms a while ago, and found the small package of Ailie's things gone, along with any personal touches to her rooms.
Snape raised an eyebrow, and Hermione remembered the link between the two. 'Oh,' she said. 'Well, I'm sure she'll be happy,' she added, more for her own benefit than anything.
'The school shall certainly be quieter,' said Snape, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. After a pause, he added, 'I am sure you will be sorry to see her go. I know you and she were... friends.'
Hermione smiled at his reluctance to use the word. 'You were her friend too.'
'Yes. I'm certain I will hardly cope for the loneliness,' Snape remarked dryly. 'Having my potions stores in some sense of order will never be the same.' Hermione smiled into the moonlight.
Silence stretched out between them once more, though it was only Hermione's awareness that made her uncomfortable. The chill of the stone worked its way up her arms, and she stretched again. Looking up, she saw Snape's sidelong look of enquiry.
'I never knew how tiring running a ball was for you teachers,' she explained. 'I can almost see why you get so grumpy about them.' Snape inclined his head.
'I am sure you will get used to it,' he said. Hermione blinked. That was as close to admitting that she was a permanent fixture at Hogwarts as Snape had ever come. Looking up, she saw that he was looking at her, a contemplative expression on his face. Strangely, his gaze didn't make her feel uncomfortable as it usually did; Hermione wondered if it was because she was so tired.
With a feeling of timeless sleepiness she contemplated him in return. For once, Snape seemed relaxed, probably the first time she had ever seen him as such. He didn't seem inclined to be snarky, either, which was close to a miracle. He leant casually against the window-ledge only inches away from her, his hand resting on his knee, seemingly comfortable with the situation. It was almost a moment out of time.
She was never certain whether one leant, or the other, but somehow she found her face inches from his, with one of his beautiful, graceful hands curled gently in her hair. She almost sighed as his lips touched hers. Without any premeditation, their kiss felt as though it was the natural state of things to be. She closed her eyes and leant into it, feeling his lips glide gently on hers, feeling his thumb stroke the softness of her cheek. Her hand came up to touch his arm, then to rest on his chest, where she could feel the slow warm thump of his heartbeat. As her lips parted and she felt the tentatively tantalising flick of his tongue, she slid her hand up to touch the soft skin at his collar, gliding her thumb over the sandpapery stubble at the base of his throat. This, she reflected, was how a beard was supposed to feel.
They remained like that, enraptured in gentle kisses, for a while. Somewhere in her brain, Hermione knew that thoughts were in overdrive, but she pushed them aside for now. She just wanted to stay here, with his hand in her hair and his lips slowly lifting her to heaven, for as long as she possibly could. It felt nice. It felt like coming home.
Eventually, their kisses ebbed, and the sweet pleasure of his thumb stroking her cheek was removed. Hermione sat back and opened her eyes, letting him extricate his hand from her knot of curls. His dark eyes consumed her for moments that felt like forever.
She let him leave without a look or word, because she knew he wanted to.
A/N: To reviewers- PhoenixFeather7: thanks for the numerous reviews. Yes, it was that David Wenham. He's an Australian actor and I've always thought he was a bit of a sweetie, so I put him in.
RedStrawberry900: I'm really sorry to hear about your keyboard! I'm familiar with the star-in-circle Wiccan thing, but I actually wanted my Wiccans to be different from real ones, just because I didn't want to trivialise the real religion. Anyway, I hope you like the solstice ritual. As for your quote about the chainsaw thing: there was a Darwin Award (comic awards given to people who prevent their stupid genes getting into the gene pool either by killing themselves in a stupid way or injuring their genitals) for a guy who actually used a belt sander to, er, pleasure himself. I won't go into details, because it's quite gross.
farwing: I can't believe the Waifs are going overseas. I love 'Fisherman's Daughter' especially.
Uberscully: Aah, it's nice to know another fan is reading my work! Here's something to blow your mind: I've met Gillian Anderson.
To everyone else: Marston Chicklet, Redone, Matraeia, Juno, MadAboutHarry (no, it's always been under this title, sorry), HeavenStone, Goddessnmb1, beatrice 2005, Angel of the North, KET, Canadian Wierdo, pineapplehead (is that a Crowded House reference?), HunnySnowBunny, angel-g2001 and anyone else I've forgotten- I love you all madly and you are bright, shining human beings. Oh, and thanks for the reviews.
I have a question for anyone in America or Canada, more specifically Canada. I'm currently writing a plot in which the main character, a foreigner living in Toronto, really loves tea. Just plain, black-leaf tea, with milk and sugar. I'd imagined that tea would be a little difficult to get in Toronto, but now that I think about it I don't actually know. Can anyone tell me the sort of hot beverages someone might drink over there, and whether tea would be easy to obtain (and also whether it would come loose leaf, or in tea bags, or whatever)?
A/N: To answer the many questions in the reviews of the former chapter- the chapter title was from Sting's 'Russians,' a song written in the eighties about the cold war, which I hear was pretty scary, with such excellent lines as 'We share the same biology regardless of ideology,' 'there is no monopoly of common sense on either side of the political fence,' 'there's no such thing as a winnable war' (one that I take particularly to heart) and, of course, 'how can I save my little boy from Oppenheimer's deadly toy,' which refers to the fact that he has no hope of protecting his child should the world go mad and people start lobbing Mr Oppenheimer's invention, the nuclear bomb, at each other. I used the title I did because I've been listening to Sting, and also I felt it had a lot of connection to how Hermione was feeling. If you haven't heard this song it's a damn shame, as it's great, and if you haven't heard of Sting- he's the former lead singer of The Police, whose song 'Don't Stand So Close To Me' people seem fond of using as a plot bunny for SS/HG stories (because it appeals to all us sick little girls who had sick little fantasies about seducing a teacher- which were wrong, WRONG, but we still had them). If you haven't heard of them, either, then I'm sorry, I can't help ya.
Chapter Thirty-One Les Musee Rodin
''Mione, you knew this might happen,' Ailie said sympathetically, sitting next to her friend on the couch by the fire. 'It's a good thing! I get to go home!'
'I know,' Hermione said, looking down for a moment. She smiled thinly, and attempted to brighten up. 'I'm happy for you. It's such good news, your coven being okay.'
Ailie sighed inwardly, cursing Under for his usual tactlessness. She had been friends with him for nearly all her life, but it didn't mean he didn't annoy her sometimes.
'Herm, I'm sorry you had to find out about this so quickly,' she said, patting her friend's hand. 'I wanted to break it to you gently. But I have to go- they're the only family I've got.'
'I know,' Hermione repeated, sitting up straighter. 'You should go. They're where you belong, and it's wonderful that you *can* go back. It's just... it's a bit of a shock. I didn't think you'd be leaving so soon.'
Ailie sighed again as she thought of the second less than tactful thing her beloved friend had done, announcing at breakfast that they'd be leaving the next day. Not used to wizarding ways, Under wanted to be rid of them all as soon as possible.
'I'm sorry about that,' Ailie said. 'I tried to talk to Under, but he's pretty determined about it.' She watched as Hermione looked down again, and melted slightly.
'Tell you what,' she said. 'I'll try and talk Under into staying a few more days. Okay?' She was rewarded with a small, sad smile.
**
In the end, it was agreed that Ailie and Under would stay until after the summer solstice ball. After all the preparation to celebrate something so important to the Wiccan, it was a little strange that she would be leaving only a few days beforehand. Also, it seemed an appropriate way to send her off.
The danger for Ailie and Under, however, was not considered to be entirely over. It was possible that if Ailie was suddenly revealed as a member of a mysterious hermit coven from the wilds of Scotland, suspicions would be aroused, putting not only her and her coven in danger, but revealing Snape as a spy. Under's arrival, therefore, was explained away as the visit of a pining boyfriend, and Ailie's imminent departure was mentioned to no-one who didn't already know.
Fortunately the final preparations for the ball kept Hermione busy, and therefore kept her mind off Ailie's leaving. It was easier, somehow, that she didn't have to talk about it, almost as though it wasn't really happening. Ailie spent most of her time, understandably, with Under, re- forming the bond that had existed between them for most of their lives, which meant the goodbyes were put off.
The day of the ball was all too soon upon them. Hermione spent the morning helping the house elves with last-minute preparations and avoiding thinking about how badly the ball was going to go. At four o'clock, however, Ailie walked into the great hall and grabbed Hermione's arm.
'It's time for you to get ready,' she said, ignoring Hermione's shocked look as she began to drag her from the hall.
'Ailie, I can't possibly-' she began, but was interrupted.
'You can, actually,' Madam Hooch called from the doorway, on her way in. She was accompanied by Poppy who was loaded down with lengths of ivy.
'Freya and I will take over from here, Hermione,' Poppy said, dumping the foliage on a table and blowing a stray hair from her face. 'Minerva and Esme will be along as soon as their last classes are over.'
'So you don't have to worry about it,' concluded Hooch, firmly pushing Hermione toward the door. Ailie grinned up at her.
Knowing a defeat when she saw one, Hermione let herself be dragged up to Ailie's rooms, seeing with surprise that an afternoon tea awaited them, spread out daintily on the table by the window. Their preparations for the evening were also set out, dresses neatly laid out on the couch, pressed and starched, and their various other preparations for the evening set out on the coffee table.
Ailie stood and waited by the tea table, looking a little nervous.
'Minerva told me about the tradition of afternoon tea,' she said shyly. 'I wanted to give it a try before I left.'
With a soft smile Hermione sat down. She looked at the delicacies set out for them, and blinked.
'Sugared rose petals,' she said, reaching out to pick one up. 'I remember my grandmother used to make these.'
'Minerva said that it was something her mother used to serve,' Ailie shrugged. 'There's sugared violets, too. And petit four.' She looked at the food anxiously, then up at Hermione. 'Is it all right?'
'Perfect,' Hermione said. After a second's contemplation, she popped the rose petal into her mouth, savouring the delicate sweetness of it. Following her lead, Ailie took one as well.
'Hmm,' she said, chewing with a look of contemplation. 'It's... interesting.' She caught Hermione's eye, and grimaced. 'The sugar smothers it.'
Hermione chuckled, enjoying Ailie's honesty, and reached over to pour out the tea.
They spent a quiet hour sipping and supping, and talking gently of nothing much. Hermione suspected that Ailie was giving her her last piece of wizardness, summing up all she had been in the time she had been with them so that she could move on. Though she was quiet, there was an energy in her that Hermione had never seen before.
As the last of the tea disappeared, Ailie's expression became serious.
'I am sorry to be leaving you, Hermione. You have been a very good friend to me.'
Hermione blinked back the sudden wetness in her eyes. The words seemed to sweep away a wall in her mind, all the grief for her friend's departure coming suddenly rushing forth.
'You have been a good friend to me, too,' she answered after a moment, giving the other girl a sad smile. Ailie's expression didn't alter.
'I shan't be able to come back, you know,' she said, looking down. Hermione bit her lip. It was strange, she reflected, how the childhood hope for a happy ending never really went away, regardless of logic or reason. Now that Ailie had said it, her disappearance was irrefutable, real.
She looked down at her cup, realising somehow that her friend was asking her to make it okay.
'You belong with your people,' she said, and felt Ailie relax slightly.
The tension of the previous moment gone, Ailie leant over and hugged her tightly.
'Come on,' she said, pulling away. 'If I don't have you ready by eight the girls will have my head.'
The next two hours were spent in furious primping, preening and adjusting. Ailie had obviously been spending some time in the study of beauty spells, flicking her wand here and there to alter Hermione's hair, or fit her dress more elegantly. By the time it was over, Hermione felt somewhat like a live doll.
Ailie stepped back to admire her work.
'Beautiful,' she said with a broad smile. 'Even if I do say so myself.'
Ailie turned Hermione around to look in the mirror, and Hermione contemplated herself. For once, she wasn't ashamed to agree with the compliment. The teachers had decided to fully participate in this ball, not acting solely as chaperones as they usually would. Hermione had at first been trepidatious of wearing a ball gown, but the two young girls had gone with professors Sprout and McGonagall the previous weekend to choose something to wear, and Minerva had assured Hermione that her choice was appropriate.
She was certainly looking better than her everyday self, she decided, with her hair sleek, in big brown curls that trailed from a loose bun at the top of her head. Her brown eyes looked even darker than normal with the light amount of eye shadow Ailie had applied, her lips a healthy red tint without being smothered in lipstick. Her dress was a light blue, an unusual choice for her, but one that set off her creamy white skin admirably, the strapless gown closing gracefully on her waist and flowing gently into a full skirt at her ankles. A single, hair-thin wire of silver held a tiny diamond at her neck, which caught and flared the colours of the rainbow in the light. The ensemble was attractive, while still affirming her place as an adult and a teacher, should any students decide to question her authority.
With a smile, Hermione picked up her soft wrap and settled it over her shoulders while Ailie made her final preparations. Her friend had taken the unusual route of selecting a pantsuit for the occasion, in forest green silk. The way it fitted her made her look like even more like an elf than usual, and set off the impish look in her eyes.
Soon the two were ready. Though many wizardly conventions had been kept up for the ball on the most part, it was necessary to have some physical bond with the earth to achieve the purpose of the evening, and so everyone was required to go barefoot. The connection with the stones of the castle would highlight the natural movements of the earth.
Hermione was uncertain about why they were leaving so early, as dinner would not be served until nine, but as Ailie led her to the staff lounge she found that several teachers had decided to meet for pre-prandial drinks. Professor Flitwick handed her a small glass of wine as she walked in, and with the knowledge that the ball could now virtually run itself, Hermione settled in to enjoy the evening.
Across the room, several female professors watched her ensuing conversation with Filibus Flitwick with interest.
'It's good to see her finally relaxing,' Hooch said, a tinge of concern in her voice.
'She does look beautiful tonight,' Poppy sighed next to her. 'I remember when I was that young...'
'I don't,' McGonagall said. 'It's almost sixty years ago for me.'
'Don't act all senile, Minerva,' Professor Sprout said with a leer. 'You just can't remember what you did because of all the mead that was involved.'
'You were no angel yourself, Esmerelda Sprout,' McGonagall retorted. 'I remember some of the things you got up to. Riding naked through Oxford at three in the morning, tattooing the words 'I love Haggis' on Argus Filch's dog-'
'And generally raising Cain, I know,' Sprout replied. 'That's what I get for having you as a cousin. Is there anything you don't remember?'
'I think she forgot the fact that she has a tattoo of a newt on her thigh,' Hooch chuckled. The other three were silent for a moment.
'How did you-' McGonagall began.
'I have my ways,' Hooch drawled. She raised an eyebrow at McGonagall. 'I had a rather interesting conversation with Antonius Black one afternoon.'
Poppy gaped at McGonagall. 'You- with Sirius Black's uncle?'
'So, does it run in the family?' Sprout asked shrewdly.
'I don't know what you're talking about,' Minerva said, putting her nose in the air. 'Besides, that was thirty years ago!'
'Twenty,' Hooch countered. McGonagall pressed her lips together and gave Hooch a glare.
'I wonder if Hermione has any tattoos?' Sprout asked. Poppy gave her a strange look, and she shrugged. 'Well, so many people have them. I've got one, Freya's got one, I've seen one on Ailie's ankle-'
'Harry Potter's got one,' Hooch interrupted. 'Weasley twins gave it to him his sixth year, when they came down for the quiddich final and he inhaled the snitch again in the first three seconds. Three centimetre snitch, on his left buttock.'
The other three gaped at her.
Sprout's eyes narrowed. 'Freya, how did you-'
Hooch's eyes widened and she held up her hands in supplication. 'I was at the party-'
'I think someone has a tattoo fetish,' Poppy said, looking slyly at the sports teacher.
'There is nothing wrong with a healthy interest in epidermal embellishment,' Hooch said, holding her head high.
'Certainly,' McGonagall said, glancing away to hide her grin.
On the other side of the room, the headmaster moved to join in the conversation with Hermione and Flitwick.
'I was just discussing the potential for preservative charms on delicate potions with our young colleague here,' Flitwick said. 'I really do think she's been spending too much time in the dungeons with Severus,' he added with a twinkle to Dumbledore. 'She's using the same argument he usually does.'
'Although hopefully more politely,' Hermione answered with a small smile. 'But it is true, I'm afraid the magical flux in the charm zone would damage the unstable elements of a sensitive potion.'
Flitwick sighed good-naturedly, and spread his hands. 'I believe we will have to agree to disagree, for the moment.' Hermione inclined her head in agreement, and Dumbledore smiled at his two staff. Near the door, a house elf coughed politely for attention and announced that students were entering the hall for dinner. Hermione excused herself and followed the house elf from the room.
'Our young Miss Granger certainly seems to have settled in at last,' Flitwick said to his headmaster. 'It is so nice to see her in her element.'
'Yes, old friend,' Dumbledore replied.
***
The dinner prepared for the evening had been designed to enhance the children's connection with the solstice. Bread, baked with untreated flour, strawberries, potato pancakes, and various other foods were arranged to improve the tactile sensation of eating the bounties of the earth. Hermione walked past the tables on her way to her seat, observing the various fashions the children had donned for the occasion, and was surprised not to hear too many complaints about the food. After the delights of the Hallowe'en feast every year, she had expected a less than enthusiastic reception of such simple fare, but the students appeared to be eating happily. Perhaps the novelty of a small amount of wine, spiked with the connection potion, given to every student was enough to amuse them.
Hermione reached the table and took her seat next to Ailie, who, in her role as 'cousin reunited with boyfriend' was sitting close to Under and whispering in his ear. Hermione observed the mischievous glance Ailie sent her way as she sat down, and smiled. Next to her, Madam Hooch greeted her cheerily, remarking on her dress and commenting on the success of the feast.
Not at all hungry, Hermione took only a few strawberries from their punnet as the food was handed around. Madam Hooch soon became involved in a conversation with her other dinner partner and Hermione was free to look around, suiting her mood perfectly. She looked up at the hall's roof, showing the perfect sky that had yet to darken. She hadn't yet tasted her wine, and so hadn't been affected by the potion it contained, but she could see the effect of it slowly taking place around the hall. The students who had rushed their wine were easily recognisable by their silent faces; many had their hands spread on the wooden tables in front of them, their expressions willed with awe. Hermione smiled, pleased with her work. The thought drew her gaze to Severus, who also sat quietly observing the goings on in the hall. His expression was characteristically unreadable, his hands folded on the table in front of him as his gaze swept the hall. As Hermione watched, his gaze swept to her, and she inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment before he looked away.
She was frankly surprised that he hadn't managed to find an excuse to get out of the event, though he probably would take his usual relish in patrolling the grounds, she supposed. She remembered Ron's fury after he was caught by Snape with Sarah Henderson, approximately thirty seconds away from Ron's breaching that Ravenclaw maiden's defences, or so Ron claimed. Personally, she doubted it- the boys of the school seemed to have the impression that a girl, once taken to the slightly smelly, damp patch of grass at the edge of the lake, and enticed to strain their neck looking up at the stars for half an hour, would suddenly develop an undeniable urge to rip their clothes off and have rampant sex on the cold hard ground, in almost full view of the castle.
The thought made her smile, and she looked up to see that Snape was looking at her again. His gaze passed over her, and, deciding it was time to join the party, Hermione lifted her wine to her lips.
The meal moved on at an easy pace, the chatter that usually filled the great hall gradually toning down to a hushed murmur. As the light in the sky slowly faded into darkness, more and more students and staff began to look upwards, planting their bare feet firmly on the ground. Hermione began to feel a pulse around her, as though the stones of the castle were breathing with her, and she wriggled her feet along the ground to feel it. She stroked the table in front of her, feeling the old life force of the tree it used to be, still resting in the wood. Her eye caught sight of Ailie watching her doings intently, a broad grin on her face. Obviously, the Wiccan was enjoying the fact that everybody was in her world, for once.
The moon was nearing its zenith when Dumbledore stood, indicating that everyone follow his example. Everyone did, in a silence that was eerie in the great hall. Dumbledore reached his arm out and clicked his fingers, and the furnishings of the hall disappeared. He preceded the rest of the staff from their platform down to the main part of the hall, where he motioned for the students and staff to make a circle.
Having prepared for the ball, Hermione knew that the moon's zenith was the most powerful part of the evening, and knew what incantations they would perform. The power of the feeling she had as she stood between Ailie and Freya Hooch, however, still startled her. Looking around, she had another surprise; not only had Filch joined them, but the house elves were making their way into the room, joining the circle here and there. Dobby stepped in between Ailie and herself, and Hermione felt a surge of pride that the little house elf had chosen to participate in this next to her. Dobby looked up at her and smiled, nodding in greeting.
Dumbledore looked around once everyone had stopped moving, then produced a chalice which Hermione knew would be filled with water. Turning to Minerva McGonagall, who was standing by his side, Dumbledore closed both of their hands over the cup, murmuring the beginning of the incantation. The spell had to be begun by the heads of the coven, usually two sisters, a mother and daughter, or lifepartners; Dumbledore and McGonagall were an obvious choice for this function, being the metaphorical parents of the students in their care. Dumbledore spoke the first words, and McGonagall spoke after him, their two voices weaving an incantation that was almost visible around the cup. After the spell was complete, Dumbledore would take the chalice to the youngest member of the school as a sign of the strength of their coven, valuing old and new members alike.
The spell became much more interesting once the first parts were complete. The purpose of the incantation was to link the coven more strongly together, as well as linking them more strongly with the earth. The chalice would pull whoever held it to the person they had a weak connection to, both members getting down on their knees facing each other as the original holder of the chalice drank, then passed it on to the other to drink.
Of course, a lot of people failed to connect with numerous members of the school; almost the entirety of the Slytherin and Gryffindor houses would have to toast to every member of the other house if the idea was to connect to every individual you didn't gel with. But the purpose of the ceremony wasn't wrapped up in personality; the chalice would simply lead the person to one of the people they didn't completely connect with, meaning that everyone in the circle would hold it only once. The quirk of the spell would simply prevent soulmates wasting the unity of the solstice by connecting superfluously.
A little Ravenclaw happened to be the youngest member of the school, and Hermione watched as the headmaster knelt in front of the child and as they both drank. The headmaster walked back to his place in the circle, and the young Ravenclaw tremblingly followed the cup across the circle to where a towering Slytherin stood, kneeling before him only slightly less reluctantly than the Slytherin himself kneeled. The two drank, and the cup moved on.
Various other unsurprising pairings took place. Hermione was amused to see that Freya Hooch looked very grim as the cup led her across the circle to a seventh-year Hufflepuff that Hermione knew was worse than even herself at sport. The cup also got a surprising way through the group before it finally led someone to Snape; when it did, it was a third-year Slytherin who was led across. Hermione sensed Hooch raise her eyebrows beside her, but was quickly intrigued as Snape drank from the cup, stood, drank from the cup again, and simply passed it to Professor Flitwick on his right. She risked a small glance at Dumbledore, whose expression was momentarily sad before he returned his attention to the ceremony. The others watched as Flitwick knelt before a particularly bulky Slytherin sixth-year, who Hermione knew was on their quiddich team, but Hermione looked back at Snape. He was no longer watching the ritual; his eyes were trained on the ground below him, his hands loosely crossed in front of him. Looking at him, Hermione felt a wave of sadness that only dispelled slightly when she observed Lionel Highbury, the young teacher of Practical Magic, approaching her with the cup.
Hermione drank, not really surprised that Highbury didn't connect with her. She was again startled by the unexpected rush of feelings as her hands closed around the cup; feeling the life energy of her colleague imprinted on the warm silver, she had a sudden flash of understanding for him, and for the ceremony. Obviously, the sharing of drink wasn't just symbolic.
She waited as the cup began to tug at her, and was even more surprised when it led her to her left, to Ailie. Her friend's eyes were filled with understanding as they knelt, and as Hermione sipped, the sudden rush of earth energy gave her a better insight of what the Wiccan was about, something she hadn't realised she was missing.
The chalice made its way from person to person, never emptying. It was eventually passed back to Dumbledore by a moody-looking fifth year Ravenclaw boy, and the Headmaster waited for the boy to return to his place before walking to the middle of the circle. He extended his arm and slowly poured the remaining water out of the cup, a small stream of it falling to the ground with a splash and being absorbed into the stone of the floor. As it disappeared, first Minerva, then the staff, then everyone in the hall walked forward, reaching out to touch the back of whomever was in front of them. Hermione followed the tug, closing her eyes briefly as she walked forward to enjoy the feel of the stones beneath her feet. As her hand brushed some cloth, she opened her eyes to see her hand resting on the dark black material of Snape's dress robe two people in front of her. Knowing he could never know who was touching him anyway, she allowed herself to experience it, to participate in the unconscious flow of energies the crowd was celebrating.
Eventually, everyone dropped to their knees, letting their arms fall as they sat on the ground. Hermione slowly blinked, then looked around, feeling as though she was just waking up. The entire school sat on the floor around her, strangely together though spread out. It was as if everyone had been able to achieve their own personal space while still connecting with the group, no hurried need for some cliched group hug or uncomfortable social invasion.
She took in a deep breath. Dobby, sitting near her, smiled, standing up and brushing himself off. Behind him, Ailie and Under were on their feet already, hugging each other. Everyone else began to get to their feet, and Hermione stood, smiling affectionately at Dobby and squeezing his outstretched hand before he moved away. Around her, people were quietly greeting each other, occasionally giving one another a hug or a touch. Freya Hooch, quite near her, reached out and touched Hermione's hand with a smile before hugging Flitwick and Poppy. Hermione looked around the crowd, looking for a dark head, sensing there was something important she needed to do. Receiving hugs and touches, she moved forward until she found Snape, trapped in the crowd of people and looking slightly uncomfortable. Swiftly, she reached out and touched his hand, drawing his startled look to her. Following her instinct before she could think herself out of it, Hermione stepped forward and gave him a tight hug, feeling his arms close briefly around her before she stood back. She moved on before he could react.
Maybe, she thought, as she made her way out of the crowd, she wasn't the only person who wanted to hug Severus Snape tonight. But she had been the only one he had let do it.
***
Ten minutes later, Hermione watched as several of the more bold students led the way on the dance floor. The official part of the ball was over, the fellowship their ritual had created slowly fading as the moon began to wane, but it had sufficed to bring some unusual pairings on the dance floor as students finally breached the house boundaries.
Soft music, provided by the ghosts who had thoughtfully organised a phantom orchestra, floated on the air as the more timid students crowded around the tables to snack. Hermione watched the various other teachers patrol the room; their party would not really begin for another hour, after the younger students were sent to bed and it would be safe to throw off some of their teacherly solemnity.
Watching the students as they participated in a game that was so familiar to her, yet one she was no longer a part of, Hermione pondered the worth of growing up. In most ways, she had hated being stuck as a teenager, forever removed from actually being a friend of most of the people she admired because of her age- or lack thereof. Growing older had given her a better perspective on that, giving her an understanding of the boundaries of social interaction, and, most importantly, the surprising lack of them. These students would grow and see that the things they worried about now simply disappeared- or gained a menacing overtone that they could not prevent.
Two students exiting via the balcony doors reminded Hermione that she was a teacher, and she followed after them. They seemed to behave themselves, and so she made her way down to the garden, finding one or two couples to caution along the way- one unfortunate outcome of the ceremony they had performed was that many teenagers were not capable of discerning between the unity produced in the ritual and affection, and used the moonlight to explore their new feelings. Hermione even came across one or two couples paired up by the ritual, obviously mistaking it for a love spell. She met a few teachers along the way- most of the staff had realised the outcome of the ritual also.
She had wandered into a slightly more open part of the gardens when she almost stumbled across a more adult couple. Hermione had seen Ailie and Under sneak outside ten minutes or so before, but she was still startled to see them out here together. Their heads were close together, hands joined as they stood in the moonlight.
Hermione tilted her head to the side in amusement; somehow, she hadn't pictured Ailie and Under in a romantic way. She was just about to chuckle over Ailie's hidden romantic side when Ailie pulled Under's hand up and sliced it open with a dagger in her hand. Hermione gasped, as Under took the dagger and repeated the act on Ailie, joining their bleeding palms together in the air, leaning his forehead against hers as they both appeared to mutter something.
A feeling lit the air, so intimate that Hermione had to look away from them. Her eyes lit on a dark figure making his way toward the pair to her right, and, sensing that this was not a ritual that should be disturbed, Hermione quietly moved around so that she could sneak up behind Snape. She reached out and touched his hand before he could round a tree, startling both him and her when he jumped in reaction. He spun to face her, and Hermione could appreciate his skill when his defensive pose, preparation for an attack, changed smoothly to his usual impenetrable calm upon seeing her.
He raised an eyebrow in irritated enquiry, and Hermione silently moved him so he could see who the pair in the clearing really were. His eyes lit on the two Wiccans, their hands still raised in the moonlight, a soft glow between them as they muttered some sort of incantation. Nodding silently, he moved away, and Hermione followed him to the main path.
'Much luck student-baiting?' she asked, earning only a sarcastic glance in reply. Mentally, she shrugged it off, and sought for another topic. 'That new potion we tried on you and Ailie might be working if you didn't sense her,' she said, feeling the shift of gravel as they walked down the path together. Unconsciously, she copied his own pose, clasping her hands behind her back as she walked.
'Perhaps,' he answered. His tone wasn't exactly encouraging to conversation, but it didn't contain his usual 'leave-me-alone' bite, so Hermione ventured another comment.
'The potion worked quite well tonight, I thought,' she said. 'I didn't expect the effects to be so... strong.'
'Indeed,' he said. Hermione looked down, struck by the strangeness of seeing his bare feet keeping pace beside hers. He had nice feet, she thought; quite thin, with long, well-defined toes. She shook her head, wondering why she had noticed that.
'Dumbledore may expect us to have the cure for the common cold soon, I am certain,' Snape added, causing Hermione to look up in surprise. That almost sounded like a joke, but his face was perfectly still. She shook her head, feeling she must be mistaken.
'Well, I would prefer to find a better defence potion for you,' she answered, frowning in contemplation. 'You know, I think if we just altered- '
'Hermione!' A call came down the path ahead of them, and Freya Hooch and Poppy Pomfrey emerged into a patch of light. 'We were wondering where you'd got to.'
'Yes, we were just- Oh, hello, Severus.' Poppy looked at Hermione's walking partner, then back to Hermione, a trace of a smile in her eye that Hermione prayed Snape didn't catch.
'I will leave you ladies to your business,' Snape said abruptly, leaving them with a short bow. The three of them watched as he walked back into the darkness.
'You know,' said Hooch with a slight sigh, 'I know Severus is a complete prat, but occasionally he just does something chivalrous and olde- worlde on you.' She turned to look at Hermione. 'When you have him, can I borrow him once in a while?'
Hermione blushed into the darkness.
'Now, that's enough, Freya,' Poppy said, laying a hand on Hermione's arm and guiding her back toward the castle. 'Remember what happened last time we were teasing Hermione about Severus.'
'Yes, he pretended he had slept with her, if I recall,' Hooch muttered as they made their way along the path. 'Wishful thinking, I'd say.' Next to her, Hermione saw Poppy smile quietly.
They entered the hall to find that the younger students had left, leaving only sixth and seventh years- or at least those who hadn't been tired out- and teachers behind. The absence of the young students had allowed the teachers to let their hair down a little, and many were on the dance floor.
'Minerva's at it again,' Professor Sprout said, as they neared the near-empty teacher's table. She indicated the dance floor with a nod, and the other three looked to see McGonagall dancing with Hagrid.
'You're mean-spirited, Esmerelda,' Hermione said, taking a seat with the others. 'Minerva's just having a pleasant dance with him.'
'Bollocks- she's trying to cop a feel,' Hooch said, making Hermione laugh. She felt a tap at her shoulder, and looked up to see little Professor Flitwick holding out his hand to her.
'May I have this dance?' he asked, with a shy smile.
'Of course,' Hermione answered, smiling also. She had a soft spot for the friendly charms professor.
They entered the dance floor and Hermione was just finding out the difficulties of dancing with a man who was three feet shorter than her when Hagrid tapped Flitwick's shoulder.
''M cuttin' in, professor,' Hagrid said, grinning cheekily. Flitwick gracefully bowed out, and Hagrid grabbed Hermione's hand, swirling her around the room with little regard for the actual beat of the music.
'An' how's my little 'Mione,' he said, looking down gently at her. 'Only the prettiest girl at the ball,' he added.
Hermione blushed, and looked down. 'I'm glad you're here, Hagrid,' was her only answer, and she leant her head against his chest.
At the table, four witches watched the two dance.
'He cut short my dance,' grumbled Minerva.
Poppy clicked her tongue and looked at her friend. 'Come, now, Minerva. You have had three with him already.'
'He's the only male member of staff that can waltz,' Minerva complained, blatantly ignoring the evidence before her.
The dance finished, and Hermione made her way back to the table. The other four chatted for a while, but Hermione became conscious of a gaze on her. Looking up she saw Lionel Highbury eyeing her from the other end of the table and inwardly cringed. She hoped he didn't have any ideas about dancing with her.
Quickly, she leant forward to Hooch.
'Act like you're saying something deep and intriguing,' she whispered. Hooch looked at her in surprise, and the other three leant in closer.
'Why? What's the matter?' Poppy asked, also leaning forward.
Hermione sighed. 'Discreet' was certainly not the best word to describe this group. 'Lionel Highbury is watching me and I don't want to dance with him,' she explained.
Sprout leant back, nodding. 'Ah. Another victim of the evening's ceremony.'
'Well, I don't want to be one as well, so could you please pretend I'm deeply involved in conversation?'
'You are,' Hooch pointed out, but Minerva reached forward and patted Hermione's hand.
'Don't worry, dear,' she said. 'He seems to have got the message. He's turned away now.' Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, and sat back. She caught the mischievous look in Sprout's eye.
'You know,' Sprout said, looking at her. 'You say you weren't a victim of tonight's ceremony, but is that completely true?' Hermione frowned, puzzled, and Sprout raised her eyebrows. 'I noticed you in the embrace of a certain dark potions professor earlier this evening,' she said.
Hermione frowned even more until she remembered the hug she had given Snape, when she blushed.
'I didn't- it wasn't,' she said, cursing the heat she could feel on her cheeks. 'I was just- well, everybody was hugging, weren't they?' The four older women merely looked expectantly, and she shook her head and stood.
'You four are hopeless,' she said, adding a smile to show them she wasn't entirely serious. 'I'm going on patrol.' The others watched as she walked off, then looked knowingly at each other. As she left the room, Professor Snape entered through the balcony doors.
'We should send him after her,' Hooch said stoutly.
Poppy gave her a glance. 'And why is that, considering how successful our last attempts at matchmaking were? We almost made them stop talking to each other!'
'They got locked in a bottle together, didn't they?' Hooch replied. 'Quality time. Besides, you give up too easily, Pops- haven't you heard, "If at first you don't succeed-"'
""Give up before you make a complete fool of yourself, you stupid biddy,"' Poppy finished for her, and Sprout laughed.
'Well,' Minerva said, watching as Snape stalked to the edge of the room and stood against a wall, 'Hermione hugged Severus at the end of the ceremony.'
Esmerelda raised her eyebrows and nodded. 'And,' she said, '*he* didn't seem to mind.'
'Well, that's progress, at least, though I wish they'd get on with it.' Hooch rubbed her jaw, her eyes following Snape as he stalked back out of the room. 'There's nothing worse than two people frittering about for ages instead of just getting on with it like reasonable human beings.'
'You're such a- a *man* sometimes, Freya,' Poppy said. 'Don't you ever enjoy the anticipation? The excitement?' Hooch glared at her, and, crossing her arms, slumped back against her chair.
'I am not a man,' she grumbled. Silence reigned over the table for a few moments, while the others continued to watch the activity in the room.
'Besides,' Hooch began again, sitting up, 'if Severus doesn't do something soon, we'll have to wait the entire summer before we get any action.'
'Have you never heard of foreplay, Freya?' Sprout asked, laughing. Hooch sent her a hard look.
'Foreplay is all well and good,' she said, 'but I am a believer in the Big Bang theory. Especially when I'm participating vicariously.'
The others looked at her in amused disgust as Dumbledore approached the table.
'I don't suppose I might have a dance with the most charming Deputy Headmistress in the room?' he asked, extending his hand to McGonagall. Minerva rolled her eyes and stood.
'Yes, but only because it's too late for her to expect more charm from an old coot like you,' she said as she allowed him to leave her from the table.
The two began to dance to the soft music piping from an enchanted stereo, the band having packed up an hour before.
'So, still plotting over Severus, I see,' Dumbledore said, twinkling down at his friend.
Minerva looked at him. 'Really, Albus,' she said, shaking her head. 'You are a dear friend and I love you greatly, but sometimes you annoy the dickens out of me.' He shrugged.
'What more could a man ask for,' he said.
***
'I could cry salty tears...'
The music travelled up from the great hall, carried on the still night air. Hermione was infinitely glad she had been able to magick a muggle stereo system for the last half of the ball. There was something about Sarah Vaughan's sultry voice echoing through the halls of the castle that was more than magical. It brought back memories of her childhood; watching her parents as they washed the dinner dishes, her father singing softly in her mother's ear. They hadn't known she was watching, but that was part of the beauty of it.
She leant against the stone windowsill, watching the full moon glide over a mass of cloud. No wonder Ailie worshipped nature so, she thought. There was something beautiful in every part of it.
Weariness crept up her limbs as she stood, and silently Hermione stretched first one calf, then the other, watching the landscape outside. The ball was over; she probably should be helping the other teachers with the last of the clear-up, but the scene before her was just too peaceful.
A small noise in the corridor behind her made her turn, only to see Snape standing at the end of the hall. She straightened, and inclined her head in greeting. She was surprised when Snape not only returned the greeting, but stepped forward.
'Given up on your duties as teacher?' he asked, coming to stand beside her at the window. 'I'm certain many students are taking advantage of the moonlight and breaking rules.' The comment was harsh, but the voice that delivered it was low and silky. Against her will, Hermione felt a shiver shimmer down her spine.
Hermione looked up at him. 'I wouldn't dream of depriving you of your favourite occupation, Professor Snape,' she answered. Looking out at the lawn below, she continued, 'For years I've been certain that's the only reason you attend Hogwarts functions; for the pleasure of finding out trysts and delivering detentions.'
'It does have its advantages,' he answered, surprising Hermione yet again with his gentle tone. He leant against the casement and joined her in looking out across the landscape. 'Alas, students escape over summer.' His tone was wry; she could only guess how much he looked forward to student- free time.
'Ailie's gone,' Hermione said, eventually. Her voice was quiet.
'I know,' Snape answered, just as quietly.
'But how.?' Hermione asked, puzzled. Ailie had left in utmost secrecy; Hermione figured it was to prevent any sort of attack. She had only discovered Ailie's absence when she had visited their rooms a while ago, and found the small package of Ailie's things gone, along with any personal touches to her rooms.
Snape raised an eyebrow, and Hermione remembered the link between the two. 'Oh,' she said. 'Well, I'm sure she'll be happy,' she added, more for her own benefit than anything.
'The school shall certainly be quieter,' said Snape, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. After a pause, he added, 'I am sure you will be sorry to see her go. I know you and she were... friends.'
Hermione smiled at his reluctance to use the word. 'You were her friend too.'
'Yes. I'm certain I will hardly cope for the loneliness,' Snape remarked dryly. 'Having my potions stores in some sense of order will never be the same.' Hermione smiled into the moonlight.
Silence stretched out between them once more, though it was only Hermione's awareness that made her uncomfortable. The chill of the stone worked its way up her arms, and she stretched again. Looking up, she saw Snape's sidelong look of enquiry.
'I never knew how tiring running a ball was for you teachers,' she explained. 'I can almost see why you get so grumpy about them.' Snape inclined his head.
'I am sure you will get used to it,' he said. Hermione blinked. That was as close to admitting that she was a permanent fixture at Hogwarts as Snape had ever come. Looking up, she saw that he was looking at her, a contemplative expression on his face. Strangely, his gaze didn't make her feel uncomfortable as it usually did; Hermione wondered if it was because she was so tired.
With a feeling of timeless sleepiness she contemplated him in return. For once, Snape seemed relaxed, probably the first time she had ever seen him as such. He didn't seem inclined to be snarky, either, which was close to a miracle. He leant casually against the window-ledge only inches away from her, his hand resting on his knee, seemingly comfortable with the situation. It was almost a moment out of time.
She was never certain whether one leant, or the other, but somehow she found her face inches from his, with one of his beautiful, graceful hands curled gently in her hair. She almost sighed as his lips touched hers. Without any premeditation, their kiss felt as though it was the natural state of things to be. She closed her eyes and leant into it, feeling his lips glide gently on hers, feeling his thumb stroke the softness of her cheek. Her hand came up to touch his arm, then to rest on his chest, where she could feel the slow warm thump of his heartbeat. As her lips parted and she felt the tentatively tantalising flick of his tongue, she slid her hand up to touch the soft skin at his collar, gliding her thumb over the sandpapery stubble at the base of his throat. This, she reflected, was how a beard was supposed to feel.
They remained like that, enraptured in gentle kisses, for a while. Somewhere in her brain, Hermione knew that thoughts were in overdrive, but she pushed them aside for now. She just wanted to stay here, with his hand in her hair and his lips slowly lifting her to heaven, for as long as she possibly could. It felt nice. It felt like coming home.
Eventually, their kisses ebbed, and the sweet pleasure of his thumb stroking her cheek was removed. Hermione sat back and opened her eyes, letting him extricate his hand from her knot of curls. His dark eyes consumed her for moments that felt like forever.
She let him leave without a look or word, because she knew he wanted to.
A/N: To reviewers- PhoenixFeather7: thanks for the numerous reviews. Yes, it was that David Wenham. He's an Australian actor and I've always thought he was a bit of a sweetie, so I put him in.
RedStrawberry900: I'm really sorry to hear about your keyboard! I'm familiar with the star-in-circle Wiccan thing, but I actually wanted my Wiccans to be different from real ones, just because I didn't want to trivialise the real religion. Anyway, I hope you like the solstice ritual. As for your quote about the chainsaw thing: there was a Darwin Award (comic awards given to people who prevent their stupid genes getting into the gene pool either by killing themselves in a stupid way or injuring their genitals) for a guy who actually used a belt sander to, er, pleasure himself. I won't go into details, because it's quite gross.
farwing: I can't believe the Waifs are going overseas. I love 'Fisherman's Daughter' especially.
Uberscully: Aah, it's nice to know another fan is reading my work! Here's something to blow your mind: I've met Gillian Anderson.
To everyone else: Marston Chicklet, Redone, Matraeia, Juno, MadAboutHarry (no, it's always been under this title, sorry), HeavenStone, Goddessnmb1, beatrice 2005, Angel of the North, KET, Canadian Wierdo, pineapplehead (is that a Crowded House reference?), HunnySnowBunny, angel-g2001 and anyone else I've forgotten- I love you all madly and you are bright, shining human beings. Oh, and thanks for the reviews.
I have a question for anyone in America or Canada, more specifically Canada. I'm currently writing a plot in which the main character, a foreigner living in Toronto, really loves tea. Just plain, black-leaf tea, with milk and sugar. I'd imagined that tea would be a little difficult to get in Toronto, but now that I think about it I don't actually know. Can anyone tell me the sort of hot beverages someone might drink over there, and whether tea would be easy to obtain (and also whether it would come loose leaf, or in tea bags, or whatever)?