Note: Partial nudity and adult situations later on. If you think that might bother you, consider this your warning.

Chapter Twenty-Six: In which Indira stakes her claim

- April 15, 1945 -

The small house was perched on the edge of cliff on the outskirts of the Muggle city of Tarragona, Spain. Two hundred feet below its modest deck, the blue-green waves of the Mediterranean Sea broke against the rocks lining the base of the cliff. A cool breeze ran through the air, carrying the sea-scent on its wings and filling the lungs of the two individuals standing next to the house's front door.

Indira Nay inhaled the rich sea air and let it out slowly. "It's beautiful."

Leaning heavily on his cane, Armando Dippet tapped out a pattern on the door with his wand. "Yes, I know," he said. He finished the pattern and placed his hand on the doorknob. It turned, and he pushed the door open. "After my father died, I didn't take too kindly to the idea of coming here, but the land quickly won me over."

They went inside, and Indira's eyes performed a quick assessment of their surroundings. The large main room served as both a kitchen and living area, with half being devoted to each. There were two doors on the wall to the left as one came inside, leading, Dippet told her, to the bathroom and bedroom. A large glass door opposite the main entrance led to the deck.

"This is it?" Indira asked.

Dippet nodded. "This is it." He motioned for her to go in and sit down.

Indira walked over to a green couch in the living area in front of a large fireplace and sat down, still gazing around at the room in wonder. "It's perfect." She found the small house strangely comforting. Michael and Catherine Nay were very well-to-do and lived in a house far too large for just two people, and the Rahmini mansion was comparable to a royal palace. Her only other home, Hogwarts, was substantially larger than the other two put together. She liked the feeling of closeness and security here. It would be impossible for an enemy to hide in here, and if she needed him for any reason, her companion would not be far away.

Dippet wobbled over to an armchair next to the couch and sat down, taking a few minutes to catch his breath before saying anything. "It could get a little small for two people, but I only lived here during holidays, so it was hardly ever anything but just right for us." He ran his finger along the surface of the armchair. It was clean. "Excellent; Raquel told me they would send people to make the cottage inhabitable again," he said, mostly to himself.

Indira stiffened. "Who?"

"The woman who has been assigned to my case," Dippet explained. "You'll see her when we go to San Cliodne tomorrow. She is an excellent caretaker; very skilled in the healing arts, and a kind person as well."

"I am glad to hear that," Indira said coolly.

He recognized the tone, and he didn't like it. "What?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," she innocently replied.

He didn't believe her, but didn't press the subject. "You may take the bedroom; I will sleep out here on the couch."

"Oh no you will not," she insisted. "You are in no fit state to be sleeping on couches."

"I'll be fine, Indira," he said. "I always slept out here when I lived here."

"You are not a teenager anymore, Armando Dippet," she reminded him. "You are an eighty-year-old man who was severely injured while saving the life of a woman who is far more trouble than she's worth. You will sleep in the bedroom or I will jinx you."

He stared at her for a few moments, dazed. "As you wish."

Indira gave a quick, precise nod, and then suddenly became very interested in her hands, which were resting in her lap. "So… this hospital… they take care of people with injuries magic cannot cure?"

"Exactly," Dippet said. "For cases like mine, they may use magic to aid in the process, but the affliction cannot be solely cured with magic. There are few of them in the world; there is only one other in western Europe – in France – but I chose to come here because San Cliodne has the finest reputation, and it is so close to my home."

"And what is it they are having you do?"

"Physical therapy."

"It sounds painful."

"It is."

Her expression darkened, and before she could say anything in reply, Dippet quickly added, "But it's worth it. Raquel sent me a letter a few days ago saying I was progressing better than they anticipated, and I should be able to walk without the use of a cane in as little as two months. In one year, it will be as though it never happened."

"It shouldn't have happened," Indira said. "The next time you are faced with a situation like that, just let me die."

Dippet reached over and gripped her hands. "Indira," he said, and she looked at him, "do you honestly believe he would have stopped at you? He figured you were as good as dead after he blew up the wall, and then he continued to fight Minerva McGonagall. And when Albus arrived – the brother of his old enemy – he became Grindelwald's sole concern. Let it go. The past cannot be changed, and there has already been too much suffering on his account."

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's just… it's been so long since I've genuinely cared about someone. He killed my family and destroyed the one who took me in. He penetrated my only sanctuary, endangered my students and colleagues – people I respected – and then nearly killed you. If he had…"

She couldn't finish the thought and looked away from him. Dippet, however, had other ideas. He leaned in toward her, touched the side of her face with one of his hands, and turned her gaze back to him. "And he is not here to hurt us any more."

The corners of her lips twitched upward into a fleeting smile. It would still be many, many years before she could put last month's horrific events behind her – if she ever did – but she knew he would be there to aid her every step of the way.

- April 16, 1945 -

Indira Nay had met two people in her entire life whom she disliked from the moment she set eyes on them. The first was Erich Rainier. The second was Raquel Ramirez.

Indira didn't know exactly what it was about the Spanish woman waiting in the lobby of the Hospital de San Cliodne that triggered the negative feelings. There was nothing bloodthirsty and psychotic about her, as there had been with Grindelwald, but something told Indira that this woman was dangerous to her. There was just something about her kind smile, the confidence in her stance, the way her thick accent gave her voice a delightfully melodious tone, and how her eyes seemed to shine more when she laid them on Armando Dippet that made Indira feel threatened. Indira hated feeling threatened, and she immediately hated Raquel for triggering it.

"Buenos dias, Armando," she said as she crossed the lobby toward them.

"Buenos dias, Raquel," he returned with a smile. Indicating Indira, he added in English, "This is Indira Nay, a colleague of mine at Hogwarts."

Indira suddenly felt uncomfortably tall. Dippet was in his wheelchair again, and Raquel was on the short side to begin with; it felt as though her height compared to the two of them was drawing all eyes to her.

"Indira, this is Raquel Ramirez, my caretaker," said Dippet.

"Good morning, Professor Nay," said Raquel, and held out her hand.

Indira acknowledged Raquel with a curt nod and looked away.

Raquel looked mildly surprised, but expressed no desire to investigate Indira's behavior. She instead focused all of her attention on Dippet. "We'd better get started, Armando," she said. "We have a full schedule ahead of us."

"When will we be finished?" he asked.

"We should be done at four o'clock," Raquel answered.

Indira wished she had a Time Turner.

"Excellent," said Dippet. He smiled at Indira. "Then I suppose we shall see you then."

"Yes." Indira avoided meeting his gaze and glared at Raquel out of the corner of her eye. "Yes, we shall."

Four o'clock came and went, and Dippet and Raquel did not return to the lobby. At six minutes past four, Indira could no longer concentrate on the book she was reading, so she put it down and glared at the large clock in the corner of the room. Seven past four. Eight past four. And still they did not come.

At nine minutes and thirty-four seconds past four, a beaming Dippet walked into the lobby, leaning heavily on both his cane and Raquel for support. Raquel looked very happy as well; happier, Indira felt, than she should. As a teacher, Indira could understand being proud when a student did well, but Raquel and Dippet reminded her more of the day she walked in on Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall embracing each other after Minerva's first Animagus transformation. Raquel acted as though she and Dippet were old friends, and judging from what Dippet told her before, it seemed he returned at least some of these friendly feelings. What really got to Indira, though, were the obviously more than friendly feelings harbored by Raquel Ramirez.

Indira was well acquainted with the look on Raquel's face. It was the same look worn by Kiura Kadish whenever Halo Pokeli was in the room for the three years leading up to their eventual marriage. Dippet was not giving Raquel the look Halo gave to Kiura, but then again, it was almost a year before Halo noticed – and both he and Dippet were both of the supposedly astute house of Ravenclaw. Indira scowled. Who did that woman think she was? Raquel was obviously quite taken with Dippet, and Indira, who had not felt jealousy in years, knew she had to do something. It was time to remind Dippet where – she hoped – his heart truly lied.

Indira stood up, leaving her book on the chair beside hers, and glided over to Raquel and Dippet. She felt a small surge of satisfaction when Dippet's face lit up at the sight of her. "I take it this means good news?" she asked, plastering on a sickeningly sweet smile that was meant mostly for Raquel.

"It means very good news," the beaming Dippet answered. "It means that within a few days, I may not need the wheelchair anymore."

"He's been progressing remarkably well," said Raquel. "My guess is that Laura Tyburski used some sort of potion that stopped the progression of the brain damage, perhaps even began to reverse it."

"Here, lean on me," Indira said, and situated herself between Dippet and Raquel. Raquel stepped away quickly, looking mildly taken aback. Indira was a good six inches taller than Raquel, and she didn't hesitate to look down on her competition and narrow her eyes menacingly. The more uneasy Raquel looked, the more pleased Indira felt.

"Hector should be along in a moment with your wheelchair, Armando," Raquel said.

Indira allowed Dippet only enough time to thank her before commanding his full attention. "Will we be going back to Tarragona now?"

"Yes, if you like," was Dippet's reply. He had no desire to stay in Barcelona; he wasn't fond of large cities.

"I do," said Indira. In a softer voice, she added, "I don't like this place." Her response was completely true, and it had very little to do with Raquel Ramirez. Hospitals reminded her of her youth and all the time she spent in them during the months following her escape from Grindelwald.

Dippet realized what she must be thinking and immediately felt bad for asking her to come to the hospital with him in the first place. "I won't ask you to come tomorrow."

"No," she said firmly, and cast a quick glance at Raquel before making eye contact with Dippet and continuing. "I want to." She touched her hand to his cheek and then let it fall to his shoulder. "For you."

Dippet sensed a hidden motive for her actions, but felt it would be better to question her alone. At least part of her seemed genuinely interested in his well-being at the moment, so he went along with it. Giving Raquel his attention, he said, "We shall see you tomorrow, then. Thank you, Raquel."

"Good-bye," Raquel said, looking straight at Indira.

Indira responded by shooting Raquel her infamous glare of death, a look that had sent many a weaker soul in the opposite direction as quickly as possible. It worked, but not quite like Indira hoped it would: before leaving, Raquel threw an I'm-on-to-you look her way and then vanished without another word.

Dippet didn't get around to approaching Indira about her behavior at the hospital until much later that night. Upon returning to Tarragona, she'd taken out some papers that needed grading, and he helped her. When that was done, she helped him walk outside onto the deck, and they stood and watched the stars come out over the sea as the sun set behind them. Every once in a while, such as when she was shifting her weight from one foot to the other, her hand would brush against his. He suspected she was doing it by accident, but regardless, it made him very aware of how close together they were standing.

This whole ordeal was very frustrating for Dippet – not his injury and the subsequent treatment, but Indira's actions. Had they not established the fact that they both wanted to pursue a relationship ten days ago? Why hadn't they taken any more action? Until yesterday, it had almost seemed like she was no longer interested… and then he mentioned Raquel Ramirez. What in the world could prompt Indira to act like she had? As soon as the thought entered his head, Dippet thought of a possible answer. Could Indira perhaps be… jealous?

The notion was laughable. What reason would Indira have to be jealous of Raquel, or of anyone for that matter? Surely she must know that he only had eyes for her, and even if he didn't, Raquel certainly wasn't interested. Just in case, though, he should probably make sure. Hopefully, they would be able to figure out where they stood as well.

He waited for the right moment to begin his interrogation, a moment where she seemed to be relaxed and comfortable. The moment arrived just before twilight. They were standing very close now; the back of her left hand was touching the back of his right, and she was starting to rest her head on his shoulder. It was now or never – or, in other words, before he lost his nerve. "Indira?" he whispered.

She angled her head toward him. "Yes? Are you all right? Can you still stand?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," he insisted. "It's you I'm concerned about."

"Me?" she said incredulously. Some strands of hair had come loose from the low bun she had it pinned in and were now being whipped around her face by the wind. She put on her most innocent expression as she smoothed back the offending strands. "Whatever for?"

"You seemed to be acting strangely at the hospital," Dippet explained.

"I don't like hospitals," she said matter-of-factly and turned her head back toward the horizon. "I thought – I'd hoped – that I would have been able to handle it, but I was wrong."

She wasn't biting. He'd have to try a more direct approach. "You seemed to be acting strangely last night, when I first mentioned Raquel Ramirez."

Indira looked like she'd just been stung, and she shot her companion a sharp look. "What are you implying, Armando Dippet?"

"I am merely wondering if your unusual behavior is in any way linked to Raquel."

"Of course it's not," Indira said hotly. "What on earth would make me uncomfortable around such a kind, charming, clever woman, whom you speak so highly of and who clearly fancies you? I don't know, Armando, I just don't know." She turned away from him and stormed back inside the house.

Well, THAT was the wrong way to do it, Dippet said, feeling no satisfaction from being right on his hunch. He still had one more card to play, though, and he hoped this time he'd be lucky.

"I don't know, Indira," he called loudly. He knew she could hear him. "Why would you?"

She reappeared in the doorway and walked straight up to him. "I can't stand it, knowing that woman is with you and helping you and trying to take you away from me."

"Raquel is not trying to-"

"Yes, she is," Indira interrupted, "and I will not let her come between us."

Dippet took her hand and stroked her fingers with his thumb. "Is there an 'us', Indira?"

"That would depend on you," she said firmly. "Am I the woman you want, or is she?"

He let go of her hand, took her face in both of his hands, and pulled it toward him. Their lips met, and he kissed her deeply. When they pulled apart, he said, "I hope to never hear you say something like that again."

Now that things had been cleared up, the remainder of the night went well, at least by his definition. They went back inside, where she made tea and he started a fire the Muggle way, with matches, and then they rested in each others' arms on the couch, drinking tea and watching the flames as they grew and engulfed the wood. After a time, they decided it would be in their best interest to go to bed, as Dippet had another long day of physical therapy ahead of him.

Indira helped him walk into the bedroom, and they sat down on the bed together. She didn't seem too keen on leaving just yet, and he certainly didn't mind; he could easily keep his arms around her all night. She'd been strangely silent for most of the time they were in the living area, and he guessed there was something on her mind. He knew she knew he would listen if she wanted to talk about it, so he waited for her to make the first move.

"I've always thought you were very handsome," she said suddenly.

"Thank you," he said, smiling awkwardly. This must be his lucky day for guessing; her comment sounded like a lead-in to a more serious topic.

She nodded. "I've always looked up to you, too. This whole thing between us… it feels so overwhelming."

"You're overwhelmed?" he asked with a grin. "Here I am, an eighty-year-old man who had all but given up on finding someone, and here you are, a young, strong, beautiful woman who could have any man she wishes. I don't know why you chose me, Indira, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad you did."

She stood up and walked a few feet away, her back to him. "I need to show you something," she said quietly, briefly glancing at him over her shoulder. "This isn't easy for me to do, but… you need to see."

She unpinned her hair and shook it loose as she let it fall down. It was long, reaching to her hips, and very thick. She divided it into two sections and pulled it in front of her. The next thing he knew, her robes had dropped to her waist, and she was standing there with her back to him completely nude from the waist up.

There was, however (to his slight displeasure), nothing erotic about seeing Indira Nay half naked. He could instantly see what it was she was talking about, and that was scars. Her back was covered with them. They were faded with age, but still clearly visible, and no doubt she had endured great pain receiving them. There was no doubt in his mind as to who could have done it.

"Grindelwald?" he said. It was more of a statement than a question.

She nodded and sat down again, still keeping her back to him. "I've never shown anyone this, not even the Nays. Somehow I think they always knew there must be visible scars, but they never saw them with their own eyes."

"My God, Indira, what did he do to you?" Dippet whispered, mostly to himself. He began tracing the faded disfigurements with his fingertips, and as he did so, found himself studying her body more closely. Her back would have been quite lovely if not for the heavy scarring; her skin was a few shades lighter than her face and arms, and her muscles and bone structure were well-defined.

"Last Christmas, Halo asked me why I kept my hair so long if it hurts like it does," Indira said. Dippet had often wondered that himself; not only was her hair long, it was quite thick, and consequently very heavy. "This is why; so if I ever found myself wearing something that might show my back, I could let my hair down and hide it."

She half-twisted her torso so she could look at him, and it took a great deal of control for him to keep his eyes from going places they shouldn't. She was a very beautiful woman. He'd always known that, but now, with her before him as she was, he became more aware of it than ever.

"Thank you for showing me," Dippet said.

"No," she said, "thank you. You're the only man I could ever truly…"

Is she going to say it? he wondered. His heartbeat accelerated with the anticipation.

"… trust," she finished.

Close enough.

And then he was kissing her. He had no idea how it happened – for all he knew, it could have been her that started it – but it was happening, and neither one of them showed any desire to stop. He leaned back and took her along with him, though it almost seemed like she was the one doing the guiding, and their kissing grew more intense. He could sense her desires, for they were the same as his own, but, considering her history, he didn't think it would be the wisest idea to rush into anything. His physical condition could be easily overcome, but her emotional scarring was much deeper than the ones on her back.

He stopped kissing her, and she lifted her face a few inches away from his. "Indira," he said, caressing her face, "are you sure about this?"

"Quite sure," she said, and resumed kissing him.

They made love for hours: the first time for him, the first consensual for her. And it would not be the last.