Disclaimer: None of the recognizable characters and settings belong to me. They are all the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling. I'm just playing around with them for the fun of it…no monetary gain is sought.

This story is dedicated to scattered logic for her cherished friendship and all her invaluable help. :

Chapter Twenty Six: A Truth that Can't Be Denied

This chapter has been altered to better comply with stringent guidelines concerning sexual content. The unaltered chapter can be found on my homepage, which can be found via a link on my profile page here on fanfiction. Thank you. shadowycat

"It may not be easy. The truth of this situation has been buried for a very long time." Snape's dark eyes regarded her somberly.

"I know," whispered Minerva softly. "I know."

Thoughtfully, Snape turned his eyes back to the stone box that stood as silent sentry to this mystery. He got to his feet and retrieved it from the mantel. Then he turned back to the woman on the couch.

"May I look at this again?" he asked.

Surprised, she nodded. "Yes, I suppose so, but why?"

He shook his head slightly and frowned down at it. "I'm not sure. Something about it bothered me. I…I just think it might be helpful," he finished awkwardly. He hated feeling so uncertain.

Lifting her shoulders in a helpless shrug, she gazed at the hated thing and spoke softly, "I've watched it and watched it until it plays in my mind whenever I close my eyes. Nothing about it seems helpful to me, but if you can see anything at all in it that might help…I'd be grateful." She doubted that he'd want her gratitude, but if he could shed any useful light on this situation, he'd have it all the same.

With a nod, Snape took the copy over to a nearby table, set it down and then activated the memories once more. He leaned over the bowl and watched it straight through without comment two more times, pausing only to reactivate it when it stopped, while Minerva rose and stood nearby, watching him with anxious eyes.

His intense concentration etched itself deeply into the lines of his thin face, giving it strength and determination. Her fingers itched with the desire to reach out and brush the dark locks of falling hair back behind his ear so that she could more easily see the movement of his eyes as he followed the actions playing out in the stone bowl. The dance of firelight across his sharp cheekbones gave color to his pale face, and she found herself trying desperately to commit the picture he presented to memory, for when she could no longer see him or touch him or hear his voice.

Finally, he straightened up and turned to her. His face still looked puzzled and uncertain.

"Well? Anything?" she asked, though it seemed that the answer was obvious.

"There is something that bothers me, but I can't seem to put my finger on just what it is," he admitted reluctantly. "Hopefully, it will come to me soon."

"Yes, I hope so. The sooner the better," she whispered. It could hardly be soon enough. Time was running out. It felt very much as if she was living within an hourglass, and the falling sand was about to sweep her down through the point of no return and smother her forever.

Snape gazed at her somewhat forlorn figure and took a step closer. "I should go and talk to Albus. He needs to see this."

She caught hold of his arm and shook her head vehemently. "No. You can't do that. Albus can't know. Not until after I'm arrested. The school can't get involved in this. It will just lend credence to Ian's poor report of things here. I won't be responsible for dragging the reputation of Hogwarts through the mud. Everyone here has been through enough over the last few years. I won't make it worse. I won't!"

Snape shook his head impatiently. "Don't be a fool, Minerva. Albus could help. You know he could. If he intervened now, he might even be able to prevent you from being arrested. You need to think about yourself here."

"Nonsense," she scoffed lightly. "Once the Aurors see this evidence of murder, they'll have no choice but to arrest me. No matter how influential Albus is, he won't be able to prevent that. A man was murdered!" she exclaimed. How could he possibly think that the authorities would just ignore something like that?

"Perhaps, but it's not as if there's a body to be found to prove it," Snape scoffed.

"And who's fault is that?" she asked angrily. "Apparently mine. You watched me dispose of that man's body. Should its lack now be somehow twisted around to count in my favor? That's wrong."

Snape disagreed. "I watched someone dispose of the body. It might've been you; it might not. I saw no absolute proof one way or the other. At any rate, no one has missed Mr. Henry Grant for fifty years. Obviously, he wasn't anyone of importance. You have a sterling reputation in the community, and Albus has a lot of influence. Why shouldn't he use it in your favor? You need to protect yourself, Minerva. There should be a way out of this without you having to go to prison."

Minerva simply stared at Snape in shock. "It almost seems as if you think I was wrong not to give in to Ian's blackmail."

"No, of course not." He frowned impatiently. "Giving in to blackmail is never a smart move, but perhaps a compromise could've been worked out. Ian Standish hasn't exactly led a blameless life, himself. Surely there must be a rock or two that he wouldn't want turned over and exposed to the light of day. At the very least, if you'd told Albus or myself what was going on, we might've been able to find one of those rocks and perhaps then we'd have been able to twist this around so that that overstuffed bully didn't end up holding all the cards. If we'd intervened and been able to exert some pressure on Standish the moment he made his threats, then things might not look so grim now. As I said, Grant wasn't anyone of importance. No one should really care all that much what happened to him after fifty years."

"I care!" she exclaimed hotly. "If I murdered this man, then I need to learn the truth. I can't spend the rest of my life wondering if I committed this crime. I can't just bargain his life away as if it was nothing. It wouldn't be right."

Snape's low voice was edged with sarcasm. "Oh, no, perish the thought that you'd be practical. That you'd try to help yourself, for once. Why do you Gryffindors have to be so noble and self-sacrificing? There's no need for you to give up your life because of this man and what might or might not have happened to him. He's obviously not worth it."

Aghast at his callousness, she gasped, "How can you say that? He was an innocent human being."

"You don't know how innocent he was. You barely remember anything about him. Someone killed him. Whether it was you or not, there must have been a reason. Odds are that whatever it was, that reason wasn't very nice. No, Minerva. This is not worth losing your life over. He's not worth it, and we've got to find some way to prevent it. Albus can help. Let me go and talk to him…show him this." Snape gestured firmly towards the stone bowl.

"No! I've made up my mind about this. I'm leaving tomorrow, and Albus isn't to know anything about it until after I'm gone. He needs deniability for the school's sake, and I'm going to give it to him," Minerva exclaimed firmly.

"This is a mistake. You're being irrational." His voice rose in angry frustration.

"If so, it's my mistake to make. What difference does it make to you, anyway?"

What difference indeed? They stood frozen in place glaring hotly at each other for what seemed like an eternity, then all the anger in Snape's face suddenly drained away to be replaced with something almost like pain. "I…I don't want anything to happen to you," he admitted reluctantly.

Her heart twisted inside of her at this unexpected admission, and tears once more dimmed her sight.

"Oh," she gasped brokenly.

Moving with one mind, they were in each other's arms in an instant. The flames they'd banked with mistrust and misunderstanding burst forth again at the barest hint of their shared passion for each other.

Snape didn't simply kiss her; he consumed her. Pulling her slight form against him with hungry desperation, he held her mouth imprisoned by his own as he plundered its depths mercilessly, then finally released it, allowing her to gasp for breath as he moved on to kiss her cheeks and then shower more hot kisses down her slender throat, leaving a trail of small red marks in his wake. His hands tore her robe open impatiently so that he could continue to feast upon her delicate flesh without restraint. The garment fell unheeded to the floor with a shrug of her shoulders to send it on its way as she grasped at him with a fervor equal to his own, sliding possessive hands up the long line of his black clad back.

They followed the robe down onto the thick carpet as one, and Minerva gasped to feel his long fingers impatiently pull the straps of her thin gown off her shoulders and down the length of her body, stripping the garment off of her in a single stroke and leaving her naked beneath him. His body loomed over hers, black material draping fragile milk white skin, as his greedy eyes took in the sight that he'd waited weeks to see once more spread before him.

"Yes," he murmured in satisfaction. Carefully, he reached out and plucked the glasses from her face, softening the edges of her vision as he set them out of harm's way. Then he cradled her head gently against his shoulder with one hand as the other began to move slowly down over her body reacquainting itself with its familiar and much desired contours. Long, strong fingers gently caressed her breasts, kneading the soft, warm flesh possessively. Then slowly, his hand slid down over her stomach with a wispy touch that made her shiver.

With an air of desperation, she clung to him. Only now fully realizing just how much she'd missed his touch these last weeks. Sliding her fingers deeply into his hair, she pulled his face back to her own, where her lips could capture his once more for another deeply satisfying kiss.

"Oh, yes," she whispered softly as his lips finally left hers to burn a trail of desire down the length of her body. His mouth slid across her tingling skin to capture first one erect nipple then the other, to tease and suckle them and nip gently at the tender flesh, causing her to arch her back and press herself up against him.

The sensations that were bursting through her mind and body at his touch were almost overwhelming. The fabric of his robe felt so welcomingly cool and slick against her naked flesh, contrasting sharply with the moist warmth of his questing mouth. She'd waited for so long to feel like this again…to have this man touch her in a way that no other ever really had.

"Oh, Severus," she murmured with a soft sigh as she lay beneath him, reveling in the feeling of release that he'd given her and the weight of his body on hers. "Severus…" Gods, she'd missed this so much…missed him so much. Her fingers lovingly stroked his hair and the curve of his cheek. How she'd longed to be able to touch him again…every part of him. How was she ever going to be able to leave him now?

A satisfied smile graced his face as he raised his dark head from her body. Hearing her whisper his name once more, full of satisfaction and desire, as if only he could possibly make her feel this way, was music to his ears. He should be the only one to touch her, the only one to satisfy her, always. He'd denied that reality to himself for weeks and had only succeeded in frustrating both of them. She was his, whether she admitted that or not, and somehow he had to find a way to keep her safe, to keep her with him. Slowly, he ran a possessive hand up the length of her torso while he moved to look down into her lightly flushed face.

As he loomed over her, she reached up and pulled his body down, full length against her own. The touch of his robes felt so delicious against her moist skin, the long row of buttons pressed their imprints into her body. With a mischievous smile, she pushed against him, turning him over onto his back so that she could straddle his body and look down at him smugly. It simply wasn't fair that she should lie here naked while he remained fully clothed. She really had to do something about that.

Without ever breaking eye contact, she slid his thin academic robe off of his shoulders to lay spread beneath them like a ground cover for an afternoon idle. Then slowly, one by one, she began to undo the buttons of his frock coat, caressing each one as she slowly pushed it back through its hole and reached for the next while at the same time, rubbing her body rhythmically against his, inflaming his desire and his impatience. His long fingers gripped her thighs tightly in response to her movements, and his breath began to come in shallow, harsh gasps.

Finally, she finished unbuttoning the coat, and with his assistance, discarded it as well. Then she did the same with the buttons of his shirt, one by one, in a smooth mesmerizing rhythm, leaning down to place soft kisses along the flesh of his chest as soon as each button gave way, revealing a new spot for her eager mouth. Once the shirt joined the coat to one side, she lowered her head again to kiss, suck, and tease the flat nipples of his chest with her teeth as her hands caressed him gently to his accompanying moans.

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Much later, Minerva lay quietly in her bed and listened to the regular easy rhythm of his breathing, marveling to herself that he'd wanted to stay. Throughout the course of their arrangement, that had been the one unspoken rule. Sex, whenever and wherever it was mutually desired, but when they retired for the night, they'd each do so in the privacy of their own rooms. Somehow, the intimacy of actually sleeping in the same bed together had perhaps seemed too close to the relationship that neither of them professed to want.

Now, as she lay there in the silent darkness and watched the sliver of moonlight that had snuck through the heavy draperies as it outlined his quiet form in silver, she knew for certain that all that had changed for her.

The mirror had shown her the truth, though deep within her she'd still harbored a shred of doubt, but now as she lay beside his warm body and watched him sleep, she could deny it no longer. She'd come to care for him far, far too much.

Perhaps, in a way, it was fortunate that she'd be forced to leave him tomorrow. This way she wouldn't be required to spend the next endless span of time pretending that she had no deep feelings, where in truth she loved, for perhaps the first time in her life.

There was no future in it, though. No miracle that would make him love her in return, and it hardly mattered anyway, since it appeared that she had no real future anymore. It was best to keep silent and take what pleasure she could from his presence here with her now. She had to make the strongest memories that she could to take with her into hell. With luck, they'd help to carry her through what would undoubtedly be the worst ordeal of her life.

With a sad smile on her face, she shifted subtly closer to his body. Not quite close enough to touch and possibly disturb, but well within his sphere of warmth. Then she closed her eyes and vowed that whatever the morning brought, it would include one more coupling, one more embrace within his arms. Somehow, she'd make certain of that if nothing else.

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Next Chapter: Though Severus tries his best to change her mind, Minerva is determined to leave Hogwarts as soon as possible.