Author's Notes: Romance! For those who wanted to see some real romance,
and not just sex, this chapter is for you. Forgive me for taking Professor
Snape hopelessly "Out of Character". It wasn't me, honest.. It was the
Loreena McKennitt CD I was listening to! Yeah, that's it, Loreena made me
do it!
Of course, there's sex too. Not as bodice-rippy as in past chapters though. (Well, it kinda has to be bodice rippy to not blast completely through R and out of the bounds of fanfiction.net) But you get your lemon- fix at the end of the chapter. And it's a pretty smutty little lemon drop at that. So, if such things disturb your gentle sensibilities, proceed with caution.
(Once the story's complete and finished, I'll re-write the sex scenes, no holds barred, and post them on an adult appropriate forum.)
No violence, no angst. A little humor here and there. Mostly holiday fluff and romance and sex! (I owe it to you for what's going to happen in the chapter where the Malfoys wreak their havoc.)
Disclaimers: Nothing from the books or movies belongs to me. Although I freely lay claim to all the liberties I have taken with it.
Chapter 47: To Drive the Cold Winter Away
In her quarters, Mira found her clothing already hanging in the armoire and her personal items laid out on the dressing table. She changed into her fur-trimmed robe; and tucked the gold mesh scarf around her neck and under the neckline of the robe, like a partlet, for modesty. She pinned her hair back in a loose twist, catching several sprigs of the holly in the arrangement, letting a few curls hang freely around her face. She dabbed on a bit of perfume, and transferred a few of her necessities into a little matching fur trimmed pouch. For a festive touch, she hooked the little belled anklets from Tricia around her ankles before putting on her slippers. She had just sat down to wait for the professor, when she heard a knock at the front door.
She rose and answered the door. It was the professor; he had taken the "long way" up from his dungeon quarters to escort her to the feast.
"There were students and staff about in the corridors, I didn't think it would be proper for us to be seen leaving the same room. Even though Dumbledore made it easier for us to spend time together this weekend, we still must maintain a façade of propriety when around the students and staff."
"I understand."
"Then let us make our way to the feast, shall we?"
The professor held his arm out for Mira, and escorted her down the main corridor to the great hall. Only a dozen or so students had stayed on during the holidays, and several members of the faculty were away visiting family. The large house tables were pushed away against the walls, and the head tables had been rearranged to accommodate the roughly two dozen people in attendance. There were several enormous Christmas trees, bedecked with beautiful ornaments, situated around the room. What seemed like miles of garland was strung just below the enchanted ceiling which showed the illusion of a clear, starry winter night. Hundreds of floating candles bobbed along in the air, illuminating the hall.
Headmaster Dumbledore was seated in the center of the faculty side of the table, the students were taking their seats on the opposite side. Professor Snape directed Mira to a pair of empty seats, between Mr. Filch the caretaker, and Professor Sprout, the herbology teacher. He pushed in Mira's chair for her, before taking his own seat beside her. The students, and a few of the faculty members stole curious glances at the professor and his guest. Mira recognized Hagrid, the deputy headmistress, and the school nurse. The students and staff assembled, Dumbedore said a few words, and the feast began. Mira was amazed with the manner in which the food was served. Professor Snape had to explain to her that the house elves could magically transport the food up from the kitchens directly onto the tables. There were all manner of special holiday foods to choose from. Pitchers of spiced mead circulated among the faculty side of the table, the students had a choice between pitchers of pumpkin juice and bottles of butterbeer. The professor showed Mira how to cross her knife and fork across her plate when she was finished, and she watched in fascination as the dirty plate simply disappeared; a smaller one with clean utensils taking its place.
When everybody had finished their meal, the platters, serving bowls, and tureens all disappeared. New platters with cakes, pies, and puddings appeared in their place, along with baskets of large colorful Christmas crackers. There was a cracker for everybody at the table, and through some unknown method, they all contained gifts appropriate for the receiver. Professor Snape and Mr. Filch were the only ones not getting into the spirit of pulling their crackers apart and enjoying the contents. Mira was seated next to Professor Sprout, and they helped open each other's crackers. Mira had a fancy little paper tiara, and Sprout had a bonnet shaped like a rosebud. They both had a selection of candies and other small trinkets as well as their hats. Mira found a pretty little compact mirror and a pomander that smelled of roses and violets among the tissue and streamers. The students and faculty remained at the table for some time, conversing and sharing holiday cheer. Mira had a pleasant conversation with Professor Sprout, who was enthralled with Mira's description of her tenant's rooftop herb garden back in New Orleans.
As the night drew on, a few of the students started to yawn, feeling the effects of all the rich food and sugary desserts. A few of the adults started to yawn, feeling the effects of the pitchers of spiced mead. Dumbledore called the table to attention, and held a toast for both the house-elves who had provided such a fine meal, and the students and faculty who had decorated the hall. Following the toasts, he bid everybody a Happy Christmas, and a good night. The students and faculty slowly rose and made their way back down the corridor to their respective quarters. Professor Snape made a big show of walking Mira to her door to say good night. He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek and whispered in her ear that he would see her shortly.
Mira deposited the trinkets from her Christmas cracker on the little table, next to the Christmas tree. She went into the bedroom, sat at the dressing table, and took the paper tiara and holly out of her hair. She undid the little ankle bracelets, and set them on the table next to the tiara. Mira was just getting ready to unpin and brush her hair when she heard a soft knock on the door to the secret passageway.
"Come in! I left it unlocked."
Mira rose to meet the professor, who had just closed the door behind him. He had already taken off his heavy formal robe, and was in his usual suit of clothes. He crossed the floor to the dressing table, and stood close behind her, his hands on her shoulders.
"You've no idea how distracted I was by that robe you're wearing. If you think that scarf was modest, you're very much mistaken; all it did was serve to remind me of what was hidden beneath it."
He grasped the edge of the scarf and gently pulled it free and tossed it onto the dressing table. He then leaned in very close to Mira to whisper in her ear. His breath on her neck caused an involuntary shiver.
"And all I could do was pretend to be listening to Filch prattle on about that damned cat of his."
He abruptly pulled away from her, and took her by the hand.
"Come, let me show you how things work in here. I'm afraid I've been dispatched by Dumbledore to deliver hangover potions to a few of the faculty members who overindulged a little during the evening's festivities. Pomfrey doesn't keep any on hand in the infirmary; students aren't allowed anything stronger than butterbeer, and faculty members are expected to keep their indulgences in check. I have the only supply on the school grounds, in my private stores."
He led her into the sitting area, and showed her the bell to ring for a house-elf. He explained that the house-elves could deliver food and drink at any hour to her chambers, as well as draw her bath for her, lay out her clothes for her, take her clothes to the laundry facilities, and deliver messages for her. He also showed her how to use the floo powder for fire- talking in the fireplace. And he explained that the only fireplace one could access the floo network from was in the headmaster's office, the fireplaces in faculty and guest chambers only allowed for fire-talking as a security measure. He took her back through the bedchamber and explained the bathtub taps to her. The first three were cool, warm, and hot water. The last three would deliver different types of bubbles and fragrant oils into the water.
"Now, I trust you can manage on your own for a little while? I shan't be gone long, I don't intend to make these deliveries into social calls."
He kissed her on the cheek before turning to leave.
Mira shut the door to the little corridor between their chambers, and finished taking her hair down and brushing it out. She walked around the guest chamber, admiring the fine textiles and rich gilded decorations on the walls and furnishings. She pulled the rich velvet panels enclosing the bed aside, tying them open against the posts with thick tasseled satin ropes, and climbed up onto the large high bed. She noticed that the top panel of the heavy canopy frame was enchanted like the ceiling in the great hall; it gave the illusion of looking straight up to the stars. There was a plush velvet coverlet, a fluffy down duvet underneath, and a silky cream colored fur throw across the bottom half of the bed.
"So, that's where the idea for the fur throw came from. They must be commonplace in a cold drafty place like this." She thought, remembering her amusement at the Persian rug's transfiguration into a fur throw.
She climbed off the bed, fluffed the pillows, and walked into the bathroom. She noticed that there was a stack of fluffy white towels on a little table, as well as a small chair in one corner of the room. A large wall cabinet revealed stacks of different soaps, a stack of rolled up washcloths, and other assorted grooming and hygiene necessities. She closed the cabinet and walked over to the little fireplace. On the hearthstone was an ornate brass urn. She lifted the lid to find that it contained small pearls of a fragrant resinous substance. Mira took a handful and tossed them into the fire. The fire sparkled with red flame and started to emit a very exotic and pleasant fragrance. She inhaled deeply and sat in the comfortable little chair near the stack of towels. Curiosity got the better of her, so she knelt down in front of the bathtub, and tried the taps, one at a time. The first three were ordinary, delivering cool, warm, and hot water. The fourth delivered a stream of opalescent white bubbles that smelled sweet, like vanilla or coconut. The fifth delivered a stream of fragrant golden oil that smelled vaguely of a spice market. The sixth and final tap delivered a stream of large thick bubbles, that didn't really have a smell, but which seemed solid enough to support a person's body weight. She had to press one between her hands with a good amount of force to burst it.
She heard a noise and looked over her shoulder. The professor was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, watching her with a curiously amused expression on his face.
"Playing with the plumbing Mira? If you think this bathroom is fancy, then you'd be amazed by the one used by the class prefects up on the fifth floor. That bathtub has a hundred taps. But then again; it's shared by eight students who all have their own preferences."
Mira rose and dried her hands on one of the large fluffy towels.
"So, are you through delivering hangover potions?"
"Yes, anybody else who was too proud to request a preventative can just deal with the consequences come morning."
She crossed the floor to where he was standing, and brushed past him into the bedchamber. On the bedside table sat a crystal pitcher and a pair of goblets. Mira picked up the pitcher and sniffed at the contents.
"Spiced mead?"
"Yes, I confiscated it from my two Slytherin students who are staying on at the school through the holidays. Somehow, the boys had managed to liberate it from the kitchens without getting caught by the house-elves. And of course I couldn't let it go to waste, now could I?"
Mira poured a goblet full of the wine and handed it to the professor, and then poured another for herself.
"Waste not, want not; that's what my grandmother always says."
The professor took a drink and sat on the edge of the bed. He took Mira by the hand and pulled her closer to him.
"Why don't you sit down beside me, I have something I want to give you."
Mira set the goblet of wine back down on the little table.
"Hold on, I've brought something for you as well, let me go get it from the sitting room"
She retrieved the parcel from the sitting room, and handed it to the professor.
"I hope you like it, I really didn't know what to get you, but I knew you could use this."
He looked at the large box with a quizzical expression on his face, and opened it. He removed the cloak and held it up to take a closer look. A genuine smile worked its way onto his face as he stood up to try it on.
"This is very nice, Mira. How did you know what size and how long it should be?"
"Remember, your faculty robe came from the shop I work at, your measurements were on file."
He clasped and unclasped the snake-shaped pewter fastener.
"Very clever. I must say; I've never had a cloak this nice. Thank you."
Mira watched him turn and admire it in the dressing table mirror. It did suit him very well. The cloak was fitted to his shoulders, and then flared out into a dramatic sweeping circular hemline, which touched the tops of his shoes in front and just barely skimmed over the floor in the back.
He took the cloak off, and draped it across the bench at the foot of the bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and motioned for Mira to sit beside him. He pulled the little black velvet box out of his jacket pocket. Before he handed it to Mira, he turned to her and took her hand.
"I just want you to know that not a day goes by that I don't thank The Fates for bringing you into my life. Without you, I wouldn't be here. And it's more than just a wizarding life-debt I owe you. You saved my body, my mind, and my spirit; when I was ready to let go of all three."
Mira took the box, untied the silky green ribbon, and opened it carefully. Cradled in a plush velvet nest, was a large gold brooch. It was oval shaped, with an enormous and completely flawless diamond set in the center. Encircling the stone was a band of gold, carved with a phrase in Cyrillic letters.
"It belonged to my mother. It was one of the few pieces of her jewelry that wasn't lost during or after the battle at my home. She had it and a handful of her other favorite pieces safely tucked away in the vault at Gringott's. It goes back well over a hundred years to my great, great grandmother. Her family found their fortune in the gem mines of Siberia. When her daughter married my great grandfather in England, this finest diamond of their mines was presented to him as her dowry. On their first anniversary, he presented it back to his bride, set in this brooch. It's been passed down through the family ever since. It was supposed to go to my sister in law, but that wasn't to be. I remembered it was in the vault, and I wanted you to have it."
"What's the translation of the inscription? I'm afraid that I can't read the Cyrillic alphabet."
"Not the Gift is Dear, Love is Dear."
He took brooch out of its box, pinned it onto the green ribbon, and handed it to Mira. She noticed that there was an inscription on the back as well. The back mounting was inscribed with four words in Cyrillic letters.
"What does it say on the back?"
"Those are the names of the women who have owned it. My great grandmother, Cyzerine. My grandmother, Thasha. My mother, Sabina. And now you, Mirabelle."
Mira climbed further onto the bed, and rested her head on his chest, the brooch in her hand.
"I don't know what to say. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Are you sure you want me to have this? It's an important piece of your family history."
"I'm sure. My family is my past. You're my present and future."
He took the brooch from her and tied the ribbon around her neck, like a choker.
"You do it complete justice, you should go look."
Mira reached up and felt the heavy stone around her neck. She climbed off the bed and went to the dressing table to see it in the mirror. The light of the lamps caught the facets of the stone, and it shone with the brilliance and fire only seen in flawless or near flawless diamonds. It seemed to shine from within with an ethereal glow. Mentally, she calculated the worth of the stone. It was as large as her thumbprint, and in muggle terms, was probably worth more than the building she owned in New Orleans. She thought of the inscription on the gold bezel that held the stone: Not The Gift is Dear, Love is Dear.
She stood in front of the mirror; her eyes transfixed on the reflection of the stone, her mind reeling with the significance of it. "What were the other women who wore this brooch like? Is this how they felt when they were presented with it?" Mira inwardly pondered.
Professor Snape rose from the edge of the bed, and walked to the dressing table. He stood behind her, and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. He bowed his head and brushed his cheek over the soft fur trimming the neckline of Mira's robe. He slid his cheek up the side of her face, until his lips were even with the back of her ear.
"I promised you that night after we went flying that if there were any other way, it would be a beginning for us. I meant every word of it then, I mean every word of it now."
He kissed her on the side of the neck, causing Mira's body to tense up. He lifted her hair with one hand, and traced his lips around to the nape of her neck, following her hairline. She shuddered and inhaled sharply. He started to unzip the back of her robe with his free hand, while working his way back around to her ear with his lips. He let go of her hair, and pushed the robe forward, off her shoulders, and down her arms. Mira freed her arms from the sleeves of the robe, and turned to face him. She took his face in her hands, and kissed him gently. He pushed the robe down over her hips, and it fell in heavy folds on the floor. Mira wore a corset and pair of old fashioned petti-shorts under her robe
She stepped out from the robe and her slippers. Taking him by the hand, she led the professor back over to the bed. Mira sat on the edge of the bed, and slowly unbuttoned the closures on his jacket, one at a time. The jacket undone and on the floor, Mira drew her legs up, and peeled off her stockings; tossing them in the pile of clothes, along with her garters. The professor stepped forward between her knees, and started undoing the laces on the front of her corset. The corset unlaced, he set it on the ground next to the bed. Mira turned and threw the covers back, and leaned back against the pile of pillows at the headboard.
The professor used his wand to extinguish all the lamps, and quickly removed the rest of his clothes before crawling onto the bed above her. He leaned in her and kissed her passionately, hands roaming across her body. He kissed her throat and worked his way down to her breasts, while backing down towards the foot of the bed. Mira moaned softly and slid down farther into the nest of downy pillows. She wrapped her thighs around his waist, twisted her torso to meet his lips. He slid farther down the bed, trailing gentle bites and kisses from between her breasts to the waistband of her lacy little shorts.
He untied the bow at the waistband of the shorts and slowly pulled them off of her. He felt her body tense as he kissed her stomach, tongue darting into her navel, and tracing a tight circle around it. He continued working his way over and past the rounded swell of her stomach. She arched her hips up to meet his mouth, and gasped loudly as his tongue found the nexus of her pleasure. She threw her head back on the pillows and lost herself in the illusion of stars twinkling in the inky black sky above her. The tense build-up of pleasure and the maddening sensation of his long hair brushing her thighs had her gripping the sheets, white-knuckled, her entire being straining towards release.
Just as she reached the first waves of climax, he pulled himself up and entered her forcefully. Mira's mind and body exploded in white-hot sensory overload as she cried out. Every thrust brought her another wave of pleasure until she was in a state of complete ecstasy. With a low growling noise, he reached his own climax and collapsed, panting, onto her chest.
After catching his breath, he moved next to her, and pulled her into his arms. She brushed a stray lock of hair off of his face, and kissed him softly, tasting a hint of her own salty musk on his lips. Mira pulled the blanket up over them and rested her head against his chest. They lay together silently, watching the stars through the enchanted canopy, until they drifted off to sleep.
Of course, there's sex too. Not as bodice-rippy as in past chapters though. (Well, it kinda has to be bodice rippy to not blast completely through R and out of the bounds of fanfiction.net) But you get your lemon- fix at the end of the chapter. And it's a pretty smutty little lemon drop at that. So, if such things disturb your gentle sensibilities, proceed with caution.
(Once the story's complete and finished, I'll re-write the sex scenes, no holds barred, and post them on an adult appropriate forum.)
No violence, no angst. A little humor here and there. Mostly holiday fluff and romance and sex! (I owe it to you for what's going to happen in the chapter where the Malfoys wreak their havoc.)
Disclaimers: Nothing from the books or movies belongs to me. Although I freely lay claim to all the liberties I have taken with it.
Chapter 47: To Drive the Cold Winter Away
In her quarters, Mira found her clothing already hanging in the armoire and her personal items laid out on the dressing table. She changed into her fur-trimmed robe; and tucked the gold mesh scarf around her neck and under the neckline of the robe, like a partlet, for modesty. She pinned her hair back in a loose twist, catching several sprigs of the holly in the arrangement, letting a few curls hang freely around her face. She dabbed on a bit of perfume, and transferred a few of her necessities into a little matching fur trimmed pouch. For a festive touch, she hooked the little belled anklets from Tricia around her ankles before putting on her slippers. She had just sat down to wait for the professor, when she heard a knock at the front door.
She rose and answered the door. It was the professor; he had taken the "long way" up from his dungeon quarters to escort her to the feast.
"There were students and staff about in the corridors, I didn't think it would be proper for us to be seen leaving the same room. Even though Dumbledore made it easier for us to spend time together this weekend, we still must maintain a façade of propriety when around the students and staff."
"I understand."
"Then let us make our way to the feast, shall we?"
The professor held his arm out for Mira, and escorted her down the main corridor to the great hall. Only a dozen or so students had stayed on during the holidays, and several members of the faculty were away visiting family. The large house tables were pushed away against the walls, and the head tables had been rearranged to accommodate the roughly two dozen people in attendance. There were several enormous Christmas trees, bedecked with beautiful ornaments, situated around the room. What seemed like miles of garland was strung just below the enchanted ceiling which showed the illusion of a clear, starry winter night. Hundreds of floating candles bobbed along in the air, illuminating the hall.
Headmaster Dumbledore was seated in the center of the faculty side of the table, the students were taking their seats on the opposite side. Professor Snape directed Mira to a pair of empty seats, between Mr. Filch the caretaker, and Professor Sprout, the herbology teacher. He pushed in Mira's chair for her, before taking his own seat beside her. The students, and a few of the faculty members stole curious glances at the professor and his guest. Mira recognized Hagrid, the deputy headmistress, and the school nurse. The students and staff assembled, Dumbedore said a few words, and the feast began. Mira was amazed with the manner in which the food was served. Professor Snape had to explain to her that the house elves could magically transport the food up from the kitchens directly onto the tables. There were all manner of special holiday foods to choose from. Pitchers of spiced mead circulated among the faculty side of the table, the students had a choice between pitchers of pumpkin juice and bottles of butterbeer. The professor showed Mira how to cross her knife and fork across her plate when she was finished, and she watched in fascination as the dirty plate simply disappeared; a smaller one with clean utensils taking its place.
When everybody had finished their meal, the platters, serving bowls, and tureens all disappeared. New platters with cakes, pies, and puddings appeared in their place, along with baskets of large colorful Christmas crackers. There was a cracker for everybody at the table, and through some unknown method, they all contained gifts appropriate for the receiver. Professor Snape and Mr. Filch were the only ones not getting into the spirit of pulling their crackers apart and enjoying the contents. Mira was seated next to Professor Sprout, and they helped open each other's crackers. Mira had a fancy little paper tiara, and Sprout had a bonnet shaped like a rosebud. They both had a selection of candies and other small trinkets as well as their hats. Mira found a pretty little compact mirror and a pomander that smelled of roses and violets among the tissue and streamers. The students and faculty remained at the table for some time, conversing and sharing holiday cheer. Mira had a pleasant conversation with Professor Sprout, who was enthralled with Mira's description of her tenant's rooftop herb garden back in New Orleans.
As the night drew on, a few of the students started to yawn, feeling the effects of all the rich food and sugary desserts. A few of the adults started to yawn, feeling the effects of the pitchers of spiced mead. Dumbledore called the table to attention, and held a toast for both the house-elves who had provided such a fine meal, and the students and faculty who had decorated the hall. Following the toasts, he bid everybody a Happy Christmas, and a good night. The students and faculty slowly rose and made their way back down the corridor to their respective quarters. Professor Snape made a big show of walking Mira to her door to say good night. He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek and whispered in her ear that he would see her shortly.
Mira deposited the trinkets from her Christmas cracker on the little table, next to the Christmas tree. She went into the bedroom, sat at the dressing table, and took the paper tiara and holly out of her hair. She undid the little ankle bracelets, and set them on the table next to the tiara. Mira was just getting ready to unpin and brush her hair when she heard a soft knock on the door to the secret passageway.
"Come in! I left it unlocked."
Mira rose to meet the professor, who had just closed the door behind him. He had already taken off his heavy formal robe, and was in his usual suit of clothes. He crossed the floor to the dressing table, and stood close behind her, his hands on her shoulders.
"You've no idea how distracted I was by that robe you're wearing. If you think that scarf was modest, you're very much mistaken; all it did was serve to remind me of what was hidden beneath it."
He grasped the edge of the scarf and gently pulled it free and tossed it onto the dressing table. He then leaned in very close to Mira to whisper in her ear. His breath on her neck caused an involuntary shiver.
"And all I could do was pretend to be listening to Filch prattle on about that damned cat of his."
He abruptly pulled away from her, and took her by the hand.
"Come, let me show you how things work in here. I'm afraid I've been dispatched by Dumbledore to deliver hangover potions to a few of the faculty members who overindulged a little during the evening's festivities. Pomfrey doesn't keep any on hand in the infirmary; students aren't allowed anything stronger than butterbeer, and faculty members are expected to keep their indulgences in check. I have the only supply on the school grounds, in my private stores."
He led her into the sitting area, and showed her the bell to ring for a house-elf. He explained that the house-elves could deliver food and drink at any hour to her chambers, as well as draw her bath for her, lay out her clothes for her, take her clothes to the laundry facilities, and deliver messages for her. He also showed her how to use the floo powder for fire- talking in the fireplace. And he explained that the only fireplace one could access the floo network from was in the headmaster's office, the fireplaces in faculty and guest chambers only allowed for fire-talking as a security measure. He took her back through the bedchamber and explained the bathtub taps to her. The first three were cool, warm, and hot water. The last three would deliver different types of bubbles and fragrant oils into the water.
"Now, I trust you can manage on your own for a little while? I shan't be gone long, I don't intend to make these deliveries into social calls."
He kissed her on the cheek before turning to leave.
Mira shut the door to the little corridor between their chambers, and finished taking her hair down and brushing it out. She walked around the guest chamber, admiring the fine textiles and rich gilded decorations on the walls and furnishings. She pulled the rich velvet panels enclosing the bed aside, tying them open against the posts with thick tasseled satin ropes, and climbed up onto the large high bed. She noticed that the top panel of the heavy canopy frame was enchanted like the ceiling in the great hall; it gave the illusion of looking straight up to the stars. There was a plush velvet coverlet, a fluffy down duvet underneath, and a silky cream colored fur throw across the bottom half of the bed.
"So, that's where the idea for the fur throw came from. They must be commonplace in a cold drafty place like this." She thought, remembering her amusement at the Persian rug's transfiguration into a fur throw.
She climbed off the bed, fluffed the pillows, and walked into the bathroom. She noticed that there was a stack of fluffy white towels on a little table, as well as a small chair in one corner of the room. A large wall cabinet revealed stacks of different soaps, a stack of rolled up washcloths, and other assorted grooming and hygiene necessities. She closed the cabinet and walked over to the little fireplace. On the hearthstone was an ornate brass urn. She lifted the lid to find that it contained small pearls of a fragrant resinous substance. Mira took a handful and tossed them into the fire. The fire sparkled with red flame and started to emit a very exotic and pleasant fragrance. She inhaled deeply and sat in the comfortable little chair near the stack of towels. Curiosity got the better of her, so she knelt down in front of the bathtub, and tried the taps, one at a time. The first three were ordinary, delivering cool, warm, and hot water. The fourth delivered a stream of opalescent white bubbles that smelled sweet, like vanilla or coconut. The fifth delivered a stream of fragrant golden oil that smelled vaguely of a spice market. The sixth and final tap delivered a stream of large thick bubbles, that didn't really have a smell, but which seemed solid enough to support a person's body weight. She had to press one between her hands with a good amount of force to burst it.
She heard a noise and looked over her shoulder. The professor was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, watching her with a curiously amused expression on his face.
"Playing with the plumbing Mira? If you think this bathroom is fancy, then you'd be amazed by the one used by the class prefects up on the fifth floor. That bathtub has a hundred taps. But then again; it's shared by eight students who all have their own preferences."
Mira rose and dried her hands on one of the large fluffy towels.
"So, are you through delivering hangover potions?"
"Yes, anybody else who was too proud to request a preventative can just deal with the consequences come morning."
She crossed the floor to where he was standing, and brushed past him into the bedchamber. On the bedside table sat a crystal pitcher and a pair of goblets. Mira picked up the pitcher and sniffed at the contents.
"Spiced mead?"
"Yes, I confiscated it from my two Slytherin students who are staying on at the school through the holidays. Somehow, the boys had managed to liberate it from the kitchens without getting caught by the house-elves. And of course I couldn't let it go to waste, now could I?"
Mira poured a goblet full of the wine and handed it to the professor, and then poured another for herself.
"Waste not, want not; that's what my grandmother always says."
The professor took a drink and sat on the edge of the bed. He took Mira by the hand and pulled her closer to him.
"Why don't you sit down beside me, I have something I want to give you."
Mira set the goblet of wine back down on the little table.
"Hold on, I've brought something for you as well, let me go get it from the sitting room"
She retrieved the parcel from the sitting room, and handed it to the professor.
"I hope you like it, I really didn't know what to get you, but I knew you could use this."
He looked at the large box with a quizzical expression on his face, and opened it. He removed the cloak and held it up to take a closer look. A genuine smile worked its way onto his face as he stood up to try it on.
"This is very nice, Mira. How did you know what size and how long it should be?"
"Remember, your faculty robe came from the shop I work at, your measurements were on file."
He clasped and unclasped the snake-shaped pewter fastener.
"Very clever. I must say; I've never had a cloak this nice. Thank you."
Mira watched him turn and admire it in the dressing table mirror. It did suit him very well. The cloak was fitted to his shoulders, and then flared out into a dramatic sweeping circular hemline, which touched the tops of his shoes in front and just barely skimmed over the floor in the back.
He took the cloak off, and draped it across the bench at the foot of the bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and motioned for Mira to sit beside him. He pulled the little black velvet box out of his jacket pocket. Before he handed it to Mira, he turned to her and took her hand.
"I just want you to know that not a day goes by that I don't thank The Fates for bringing you into my life. Without you, I wouldn't be here. And it's more than just a wizarding life-debt I owe you. You saved my body, my mind, and my spirit; when I was ready to let go of all three."
Mira took the box, untied the silky green ribbon, and opened it carefully. Cradled in a plush velvet nest, was a large gold brooch. It was oval shaped, with an enormous and completely flawless diamond set in the center. Encircling the stone was a band of gold, carved with a phrase in Cyrillic letters.
"It belonged to my mother. It was one of the few pieces of her jewelry that wasn't lost during or after the battle at my home. She had it and a handful of her other favorite pieces safely tucked away in the vault at Gringott's. It goes back well over a hundred years to my great, great grandmother. Her family found their fortune in the gem mines of Siberia. When her daughter married my great grandfather in England, this finest diamond of their mines was presented to him as her dowry. On their first anniversary, he presented it back to his bride, set in this brooch. It's been passed down through the family ever since. It was supposed to go to my sister in law, but that wasn't to be. I remembered it was in the vault, and I wanted you to have it."
"What's the translation of the inscription? I'm afraid that I can't read the Cyrillic alphabet."
"Not the Gift is Dear, Love is Dear."
He took brooch out of its box, pinned it onto the green ribbon, and handed it to Mira. She noticed that there was an inscription on the back as well. The back mounting was inscribed with four words in Cyrillic letters.
"What does it say on the back?"
"Those are the names of the women who have owned it. My great grandmother, Cyzerine. My grandmother, Thasha. My mother, Sabina. And now you, Mirabelle."
Mira climbed further onto the bed, and rested her head on his chest, the brooch in her hand.
"I don't know what to say. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Are you sure you want me to have this? It's an important piece of your family history."
"I'm sure. My family is my past. You're my present and future."
He took the brooch from her and tied the ribbon around her neck, like a choker.
"You do it complete justice, you should go look."
Mira reached up and felt the heavy stone around her neck. She climbed off the bed and went to the dressing table to see it in the mirror. The light of the lamps caught the facets of the stone, and it shone with the brilliance and fire only seen in flawless or near flawless diamonds. It seemed to shine from within with an ethereal glow. Mentally, she calculated the worth of the stone. It was as large as her thumbprint, and in muggle terms, was probably worth more than the building she owned in New Orleans. She thought of the inscription on the gold bezel that held the stone: Not The Gift is Dear, Love is Dear.
She stood in front of the mirror; her eyes transfixed on the reflection of the stone, her mind reeling with the significance of it. "What were the other women who wore this brooch like? Is this how they felt when they were presented with it?" Mira inwardly pondered.
Professor Snape rose from the edge of the bed, and walked to the dressing table. He stood behind her, and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. He bowed his head and brushed his cheek over the soft fur trimming the neckline of Mira's robe. He slid his cheek up the side of her face, until his lips were even with the back of her ear.
"I promised you that night after we went flying that if there were any other way, it would be a beginning for us. I meant every word of it then, I mean every word of it now."
He kissed her on the side of the neck, causing Mira's body to tense up. He lifted her hair with one hand, and traced his lips around to the nape of her neck, following her hairline. She shuddered and inhaled sharply. He started to unzip the back of her robe with his free hand, while working his way back around to her ear with his lips. He let go of her hair, and pushed the robe forward, off her shoulders, and down her arms. Mira freed her arms from the sleeves of the robe, and turned to face him. She took his face in her hands, and kissed him gently. He pushed the robe down over her hips, and it fell in heavy folds on the floor. Mira wore a corset and pair of old fashioned petti-shorts under her robe
She stepped out from the robe and her slippers. Taking him by the hand, she led the professor back over to the bed. Mira sat on the edge of the bed, and slowly unbuttoned the closures on his jacket, one at a time. The jacket undone and on the floor, Mira drew her legs up, and peeled off her stockings; tossing them in the pile of clothes, along with her garters. The professor stepped forward between her knees, and started undoing the laces on the front of her corset. The corset unlaced, he set it on the ground next to the bed. Mira turned and threw the covers back, and leaned back against the pile of pillows at the headboard.
The professor used his wand to extinguish all the lamps, and quickly removed the rest of his clothes before crawling onto the bed above her. He leaned in her and kissed her passionately, hands roaming across her body. He kissed her throat and worked his way down to her breasts, while backing down towards the foot of the bed. Mira moaned softly and slid down farther into the nest of downy pillows. She wrapped her thighs around his waist, twisted her torso to meet his lips. He slid farther down the bed, trailing gentle bites and kisses from between her breasts to the waistband of her lacy little shorts.
He untied the bow at the waistband of the shorts and slowly pulled them off of her. He felt her body tense as he kissed her stomach, tongue darting into her navel, and tracing a tight circle around it. He continued working his way over and past the rounded swell of her stomach. She arched her hips up to meet his mouth, and gasped loudly as his tongue found the nexus of her pleasure. She threw her head back on the pillows and lost herself in the illusion of stars twinkling in the inky black sky above her. The tense build-up of pleasure and the maddening sensation of his long hair brushing her thighs had her gripping the sheets, white-knuckled, her entire being straining towards release.
Just as she reached the first waves of climax, he pulled himself up and entered her forcefully. Mira's mind and body exploded in white-hot sensory overload as she cried out. Every thrust brought her another wave of pleasure until she was in a state of complete ecstasy. With a low growling noise, he reached his own climax and collapsed, panting, onto her chest.
After catching his breath, he moved next to her, and pulled her into his arms. She brushed a stray lock of hair off of his face, and kissed him softly, tasting a hint of her own salty musk on his lips. Mira pulled the blanket up over them and rested her head against his chest. They lay together silently, watching the stars through the enchanted canopy, until they drifted off to sleep.