She has barely stepped a foot into Hogsmeade when it starts. Bells. Ringing from all directions. All out of sync. She slams her hands over her ears and continues on. She stays close to the buildings. She's aware no one should be able to see her, but she's still cautious. The bells are still ringing as she gets closer to her target. The disorientating sounds soon prove to be a distraction.
With a flick of the wrist, the cloak is pulled off her, and she is left face to face with someone she hoped wouldn't be here. He's grinning as he pushes her up against the nearest building. Her gaze flicks to the end of the alley before gliding back to him. Ugh, he is still handsome. This would be easier if he wasn't.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" He's grinning down at her with her arms tightly held in his hands. He's got a wild glint in his eyes that tells her he's gone a little crazier since the last time she saw him. "It's been a while, darling." The soft caress of his words are so at odds with the rest of him. "Are you the one that has caused all this ruckus?" His whole body is now covering her, shielding her. She hates how much she wants to sink into him. A minute ago she was ready to take down half the village. Now she can't pull herself away from him.
"Lestrange." She hates how breathless she sounds. He hears it too. She feels the smirk before his lips press below her ear. She has to bite her lip to keep from making any sound. She hates how well he knows her. The smirk is still present as he makes his way down the length of her neck. He stops at the spot he knows will turn her to liquid. She knows what he wants, but she won't give it to him. He's playing a dangerous game. "Fancy meeting you here." She tries for nonchalance but knows she falls flat. She wants to push him away. Really, she does, but once she puts her hands on him, they'll be done for.
She can practically feel his pout as he drags the tip of his nose back up the length of her neck.
"Come now, is that any way to greet your husband?" The last word is whispered like a dirty secret. Because it is one. No one knows except for Andromeda Tonks. The only other person who knows Rabastan Lestrange's true allegiance.
"Bash." Her sharp tone loses most of its effect. While now is not the time or place of a reunion, she has missed him. Five months. Five months of nothing but vague impersonal notes passed hand to hand. Five months of worrying one of her friends would kill her husband or vice versa. Five months of craving him pressed up against her like he is now.
He's pouting now. She would have thought it cute if the sharp lines didn't cut away all traces of her Bash. He huffs out a sigh before pulling away from her neck.
"Yes, yes, I know, wife." One side of his mouth quirks up after the last word. She desperately wants to pull him back to her. "What have you got for me?" She thinks about it for a second. He wasn't supposed to be here. She was to sneak in, mix the potions, and sneak out. The expulsion would give cover to apparate without a soul knowing.
"I've got it. Just get back to whatever you have to do here." She'd rather not know exactly what that entails. One day, hopefully soon, they will have the time and the courage to share all the sins they have committed to be together, to keep each other safe. But today isn't that day. Today she has to blow up Voldemort's stash of potion supplies. And now make sure they both get out alive.
His hands finally loosen from her arms. She is so distracted from the feel of his hands caressing her that she notices a moment too late where they're headed. He's got the jar in his hands faster than should be possible. The jar, about the size of a kettle, is filled with a blue iridescent liquid. The liquid sloshes back and forth as he brings it between their faces. She would be worried about his careless handling if she didn't have the key ingredient in a vial hanging from her neck. If the jar was the gasoline, the vial is the match. He shoves the jar in his robes and then looks at her expectantly.
"Hand it over, darling." The words come out hard, leaving no room for argument. She wants to fight him on this. This was her job. She can handle it. "Whatever you are thinking right now, stop." She pushes away from the wall, ready to fight him on this. "Those bells are going off because someone without one of these-" He pulls up his sleeve, revealing the mark that looks like death itself attached to his skin. She tries not to cringe. "-is wandering around. You won't even make it into the building." He's back in front of her again. Running his finger along her neckline.
"The potions shop, I'm guessing." He's already got the thin thread wrapped around his finger. "He's had Severus working on something for the past few weeks." She hadn't known that. The thought distracts her enough she barely feels the sting of the vial being ripped from her neck. "I've got this, darling. You take yourself back to the boundary line, wait for the boom, and then get your pretty little arse out of here."
He picks up the discarded cloak and wraps it around her shoulders. He gently grips her before pushing away from her. It's the closest they've been in months, and she wants to hold on to it for a minute longer.
She knows every time they leave each other could be the last. She pulls him back to her, grabs his neck, and sinks her fingers into the curls at the base of his neck. Finally, finally, his lips touch hers. Their tamest kiss by far, just the press of her lips against his. But when they pull apart, that maniacal grin he's been wearing is gone. And for a second she sees the man she fell in love with. She can still see him there. Under the walls and facades, he's had to put up to survive in the snake's den. And again she dreams of the day they'll both be able to strip themselves of the personas they have created.
His fingers ghost along her jaw, holding her as if she was the most fragile thing. For a second, everything is quiet. The bells vanish. Death eaters no longer prowl the streets. It is just the two of them as he presses his head to hers. He nudges his nose against hers and she thinks he is going to kiss her. But his lips just ghost against hers.
"I love you, darling." The whispered confession leaves her weak. She is so weak for this man she can hardly bear it. He pulls back, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, before taking a step back and pushing her away. "Time to go now." The mask is back on, but she can still see the emotion lingering in his eyes.
"Bash," she starts, but he quickly shakes his head, cutting off her reply. He knows what the next words out of her mouth would have been, and he can't bear to hear them right now. She gives him a tight nod instead. She swallows down the rest of her emotions and turns away from him. She can feel his eyes on her entire way down the alley. She lets herself have one last look at him as she turns the corner and quickly pulls the cloak over her head.
He works fast. She has barely made it to the line when she hears the explosion. She runs the last few feet, holding the cloak tight against her. The crack of apparition is lost in the chaos. She lands in the safe house with a loud thud. He's thrown her off-kilter. He always does. Bill is grilling her about the mission, and she has to make up details on the fly. She tells him about the boundary and the bells, and she hopes it's enough.
