Sunday morning

Spinner's End and Malfoy Manor

Severus woke with a start way too early in the morning the next day. They'd been snogging in the Shafiq gardens until she started to shiver and yawn simultaneously. He'd half hoped and half feared they would continue when arriving back home but she'd kissed him on his cheek and gone for a shower, saying she didn't want to rush anything. It made sense, just not to his aching dick, or well to any of his body parts really. He wanted to hold her, enfold her and never let go, devour her and snuggle up in her lap, all at the same time. It was terrifying.

Groaning he pulled himself up and downed a Hangover potion from the stash he kept in his drawer. He wasn't sure what had woken him up but with the way his thoughts had immediately started racing there was no way he could fall back to sleep. Perched on the rickety chair by the window, Menace lifted his head from his wing and muttered something undeniably rude when Severus moved to the bathroom for a shower.

He needed to talk to someone, but this time Reg was out of the question. Hermione was still asleep when he snuck downstairs with Menace hitching a ride on his arm. Once outside he Apparated to Wiltshire, telling Menace to wake Lucius up by any means necessary as long as Narcissa wasn't disturbed. The bird stared at him for a moment before cackling in agreement, almost as if he was laughing.

Perhaps fifteen minutes later the gates opened with a clang. Severus stepped through, and was immediately kidnapped by an elf who deposited him in Lucius' study. Another elf deposited tea and a full English breakfast on the dining table just as Lucius appeared from his private dressing room, clad rather informally in what must have passed for house robes in the Malfoy world, a rich silk set in blue and silver.

"That bird is a bloody menace," Lucius said sourly and sat down at the table, gesturing at Severus to do the same. "Figured he had to be yours, fits your temper and black looks. What's his name by the way?"

"Menace," Severus said blandly and picked up a fork, his stomach rumbling audibly already. Food at the Manor was always excellent, better than Hogwarts food which had been his gold standard ever since he first set foot there.

Lucius snorted and drained half his teacup in one go. "What are you up to this early? I was planning on sleeping in this morning. What's the hurry?"

Severus shrugged. "I was hungry."

Lucius levelled a glare at him over his teacup and started preparing his plate, heaping it high with bacon, beans and scrambled eggs. "Come now, even I can tell that's a load of bollocks. What gives?"

With a sigh Severus gave in. "I… it's a girl."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Ah, I see. This girl of yours… she's the one who helped with the twins?"

Severus nodded.

"But Regulus Black took her to the ball?"

"As friends."

Lucius snorted. "Friends? Not from his side, at least, maybe she thought so. But Regulus wouldn't have brought her if he didn't mean it."

"He may have taken her here, but I left with her," Severus said. "Didn't you hear Black Senior shouting at Reg?"

Lucius inclined his head and drained the rest of his tea.

"True. He was quite put out, I could hear that much. She's not from the Pure families? No, how could she be, she admitted to being… Muggle-raised, at least. I presume she's Half-blood at least? Has she told Reg about the unfortunate side of her heritage?"

Severus shrugged. "Reg doesn't know that much about her, but yes I think he knows. Haven't talked to him."

"Whatever," Lucius sniffed. "I still think you could do better. Parkinson's daughter is of age, isn't she?"

Parkinson's daughter was an annoying witch who lived for drama and gossip. She had just graduated Hogwarts and had been one of the loudest Slytherins to grace the common room during their shared years there.

"Cut it out, Lucius." At the blond wizard's half sincere apology he continued. "This is important. She's important. I want… I don't want to lose her."

Lucius fell silent and watched the teapot refill his cup. Severus took the opportunity to continue clearing his plate. For some reason he was ravenous now that his nerves had calmed enough to allow him to eat. More toast arrived, delivered by the efficient elves.

"How long do you think you can keep her, until she understands what you are?"

"She knows a lot already but she would never accept… the ideology. She's… not exactly fine with it but she understand my position." At least he hoped so. She could never learn the full extent of the things he'd been forced to do, especially during his initiation and his first few months as a Death Eater.

Lucius hummed and hid a yawn behind his hand. "So you're not going to ditch her and you think she probably won't ditch you, which is frankly a miracle already. What made you come here?"

Severus took a deep breath. "So… how do you, you know, please a witch?"

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

Spinner's End and Gringotts

Mid July

She hadn't seen Severus since the night of the ball. He'd been gone that morning when she woke up, which was both a relief and a disappointment, and he'd sent a note with Menace saying he was terribly busy at the workshop. She hoped he wasn't starting to regret it, what they'd done. Part of her mind kept screaming "You Kissed Professor Snape" on repeat, which didn't exactly help her mental state, but there was something about it that just felt right.

That Sunday she'd gone for a walk in the neighbourhood, using a Notice-Me-Not charm to keep the local thugs from approaching her. While she walked along one of the nicer streets in the shabby town she saw someone that looked familiar, but couldn't quite place her. A dark blonde young woman with a pinched frown accompanied by someone who might be her husband, pushing a pram with a small baby in it. On a hunch Hermione turned to follow them at a safe distance, and when they rang the bell of one of the houses Hermione understood the connection. The older woman opening the door had called into the house for someone else, saying that Petunia and Vernon had arrived. Hermione stifled a gasp. It was the Evans' household. The couple and baby disappeared inside, but Hermione lingered. Lily Evans had grown up there, in a small semi-detached brick house with a well-kept yard. An apple tree stood in the corner, the grass was cut, and the flower beds around the house looked well tended.

She couldn't detect any wards around the house or yard, however. Hermione bit her lip and frowned, considering her options. In the end she added a couple of simple wards that would send off an alarm and confuse anyone coming at the house with Dark intent, but she didn't want to do too much without asking Professor Dumbledore about it. It wasn't her place, and hopefully the Evans family would never make it to the Dark Lord's notice anyway.

That was a few days prior, but she kept returning to thoughts of the Evans family. She hadn't written to Severus about it either as everything between them was still too raw, too charged. She'd never been kissed like that in her life. Setting her whole soul aflame.

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

To her surprise, Hermione found that she liked working at Gringotts. She was expected to learn things and to take initiative on her own by asking for information or providing input where she could. No one coddled her as "the Brightest Witch of her Age" or "a member of the Golden Trio", no one looked down on her heritage, and no one had tried to kill her yet. It had taken her a while to realise that the human employees had offices at the top floors because the goblins preferred working underground, and she was starting to understand a little of the basics of Gobbledegook. Not enough to hold a conversation but enough to follow simple directions, at least. She'd made a note to try to find some books on Goblin society, to avoid insulting someone because she used the wrong verb forms or greeted someone the wrong way, something which was practically inevitable without proper guidance.

She felt energised but had a hard time focusing on her equations. She'd set them up in an empty room adjacent to the office she shared, and let the swirling matrices and lines fill the whole space. The goblins apparently approved. A stack of Arithmancy books appeared in a corner, and scrolls with information about certain people landed on her desk at irregular intervals.

She'd added the latest Order meeting, wanting to see if she could save any of the people she'd met and also needing to figure out what the next step might be. So far it had been inconclusive, however, but she was leaning towards showing them the Horcruxes.

At the moment, however, she was headed to meet with Elder Gargnak to discuss another question of hers. It was rather late Wednesday afternoon but the goblins appeared to work irregular hours. Come to think of it, she had no idea where they lived. Did they have living quarters connected to the bank, somehow? It was very rare to see goblins out and about in the Wizarding world, and those that did appear were usually obviously there on a business errand.

"Enter," Gargnak snapped and the door opened silently on its own.

Hermione stepped inside the elder goblin's office, pushing down all thoughts of Severus and kissing behind her mental shields. She needed to focus.

"Yes, Granger?" He was half buried behind a couple of large ledgers. A stack of leather-bound books took up the far corner of the desk, a couple of scrolls balancing precariously on top.

"I need to ask something about the vaults, Elder Gargnak."

He made an impatient gesture with his hand but didn't stop working.

Hermione wasn't sure how to phrase it. "Is it possible to open someone else's vaults if, for example, there is reason to believe they're storing something dangerous?"

Gargnak shook his head sharply, looking up at her over the edge of the ledgers. "Not possible, Granger. Goblins may only open vaults at the direct request of the vault owner, including withdrawal of fees and wand payments."

"So there are no rules against storing Dark artefacts in vaults…?" Hermione trailed off. Damn, she'd hoped there would be, although it had been a long shot.

Gargnak snorted. "Nay, that would clear out all vaults immediately and Gringotts would implode. No, only the owner or someone of the owner's bloodline if the owner is incapacitated may open a vault."

That was a problem, indeed. If there weren't any rules against harbouring pieces of a Dark megalomaniac, they wouldn't be able to get it. If it was even there.

"But…"

Gargnak didn't look too pleased although with a goblin it was hard to tell. "This is the very foundation of the Bank, Granger. The vaults are sacred. How else would we uphold our reputation?"

"Oh. I'm sorry, Elder Gargnak." She couldn't argue with that, not if she wanted to keep her job.

The goblin nodded and looked at her for a while. "Granger. This is related to the Riddle boy? Have you set up your equations already?"

Hermione sighed. "This is not from the equations, not exactly. I'm not sure where the item is but we need to get it destroyed. It was here in my original timeline but I'm not sure when it was moved here."

Gargnak tilted his head sideways as he thought. "I see. I think you will find a way, without compromising the Bank. Or our dragon, for that matter."

"Thank you for your time, Elder Gargnak."

The goblin snorted. "Don't call me Elder all the time, Granger. I feel all my years in my knees anyway."

Hermione nodded, bared her teeth in the customary Goblin gesture of respect and backed out of the room.

She fetched a cup of tea from the staff room and went back to her equations, nodding at Bagrok and Ragnak in the corridor. A couple of young goblins ran past, tossing a couple of crystals between them. It was as if everything was slowly moving towards a point of no return, when something would cause the whole mess to explode in an extremely messy way. She needed something, a lever of some kind, to push the tide in the right direction. It was clear already that she'd influenced the current timeline but her equations still pointed at an extremely bloody period starting some time during next year, and still had a final confrontation in October well over a year away.

Now that they had secured the locket Hermione wanted to involve her other allies a bit more. They still needed to secure the ring before the Headmaster could traipse off after it and get cursed and die, but once that was sorted they would definitely need some ideas for the missing two. She was still holding out hope for the Malfoys, but the one that had been in Bellatrix' vault might be trickier to locate, especially considering Gargnak's response. If it weren't in the vaults it would be even worse, she didn't have a clue where to look.

The network was growing, at any rate, and she felt immensely proud about it. Her former Hufflepuff dormmates were settling in, finding work and places to live. So far most of them liked her idea of calling themselves the Augurey Association, but she had needed to rein in Hestia and Evie a little when they started talking about making AA badges, explaining the Muggle connotations. She hoped to be able to work more closely with the Order but hadn't quite worked out how yet, and she hadn't had the chance to talk to Amelia or Kingsley properly. The Hogwarts professors were mostly away from the Castle during summer, making communication a bit easier in some ways.

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

A few days later Hermione fingered the vial in her pocket, feeling nervous for more than one reason. After setting up the Arithmancy web again and working through all angles she could think of it had seemed like a good idea to propose a meeting, but she just wasn't sure. What if she'd missed something? Severus had agreed to accompany her, luckily. She wasn't sure she could have done it alone. He'd been oddly silent since their garden rendezvous. He had sent a couple of messages in the notebook, asking for time and patience, but there hadn't been time to meet up. Hermione was busy too but she'd missed him terribly during the week and he hadn't shown up until they were almost due to leave, having worked through the night at the workshop. She wanted to talk to him, to kiss him again.

She had dressed in her best professional-looking robes, trying not to look like an awkward, out-of-place, out-of-time young witch who was terrified of entering a building. Severus wore his Apprentice robes, even though they were a bit shabby, with marks that didn't respond to a Scourgify. Together they Apparated to the wrought-iron gates which swung silently open upon their arrival.

Unlike the decked-out manors she'd visited for the balls, clearly the Malfoys didn't need to bother with Transfigurations. The lawn was immaculate, the rose bushes well tended and the flowers in the beds almost sparkled, as did the fountains that stood as centrepieces at regular intervals along the path.

An elf opened the Manor doors for them, leading them through the main hallway into another room to wait for their hosts. The room. Was it… No. Yes. It was. The drawing room. It looked a little different than she remembered from the height of war, but not enough. The cream drapes by the windows were whole, the floor wasn't scuffed or scorched, and the walls looked cleaner. The purple carpet was the same, though, and the chandelier. She shut her eyes tight, wishing for the memories to go away, already regretting her decision to go.

Narcissa arrived, Lucius in tow. While she looked every part the immaculate Pure-blood host, a slight smile on her lips, elegantly coiffed in pale blue robes and with her hair in an elaborate updo, he didn't seem as pleased.

"Severus. And Hermione. What brings you to our humble abode on a day like this?" Lucius raised an eyebrow at her.

Severus wasn't much help, he merely nodded her way and raised an eyebrow at Lucius in return, leaving her on her own. Plastering a smile on her face for Lucius, she instead turned to Narcissa.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me, I understand we aren't exactly friends but there are some things I would want to discuss with you both. Would that be agreeable to you?"

"Is it related to my children?" Narcissa asked immediately, the polite mask slipping a little.

Hermione hesitated. "Not as such."

Narcissa gestured at her to follow, leading the way through the enormous manor to the wing Hermione had been in when they visited the babies. She kept up a soft commentary along the way about the various rooms, the Malfoy portraits that lined some of the walls and the state of the gardens, with Hermione humming in agreement wherever it seemed appropriate. She felt a bit wrong-footed still, but Grandma Granger had been rather posh, instilling in young Hermione a certain sense of manners that seemed similar to the Pure-bloods. Her discussions with Amelia had helped too for some of the nuances of Wizarding culture. Severus and Lucius followed silently behind, their proximity making the back of her neck prickle.

They ended up in a different drawing room, brightly lit by the July sunlight through the large bay windows. An elegant camelback sofa in light green velvet stood between the windows. The table and chairs near the fireplace appeared to be Chippendale or some Wizarding equivalent, with elegant curves and light colours. Hermione guessed it was Narcissa's domain rather than Lucius', but couldn't begin to make sense of what that might indicate for her chances at convincing them.

She had no idea where to start, how to do this, but perhaps the answer would be Gryffindor brashness rather than Slytherin guile. All she had read on Pure-blood etiquette wouldn't be of much use if they threw her out before she was finished.

Narcissa seated herself on the sofa while Lucius remained standing behind her. Severus moved a little closer to Hermione who had stopped in front of the window, facing the others.

"Narcissa Black Malfoy and Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, I invoke the debt you owe me when I saved your babies. Do you recognise this debt?"

Narcissa sat up straighter while Lucius froze, glaring at Hermione. She didn't dare to move or speak while waiting for their answers.

"I recognise this debt, Hermione Granger," Narcissa finally said. She looked straight at Hermione, almost eagerly.

A long moment later, Lucius followed suit. "I recognise this debt, Hermione Granger," he practically growled. "What do you want?"

"One simple thing from both of you. I have something to show you, and I wish for you not to use this information against me. Do not tell anyone not in this room what you have seen without my permission. That is all." Holding her breath, she hoped it was enough. It would have to be.

Narcissa was the first to speak up. "I accept your terms, Hermione Granger."

Lucius followed suit, if a bit reluctantly. It would have to be enough.

Some of the butterflies in her stomach stilled, but not all of them. They still had to get through the next part intact. Pulling up her beaded bag, she Summoned the object she wanted with a silent Accio. A tap of her wand enlarged the Pensieve which she put down carefully on the sofa table. From a pocket in her robes she pulled out the vial she had prepared, setting it next to the Pensieve.

"These are my memories. I understand if they seem strange to you. I was born in September 1979 and started at Hogwarts in 1991. I knew Draco Malfoy, but as far as I knew he was an only child."

Narcissa gasped but neither Malfoy said anything.

Concentrating, she pulled a wispy strand from her head, depositing it in the Pensieve. "Let's start out easy with my first few memories of Lucius Malfoy. The first is from Flourish and Blotts, I was twelve, about to start my second year. We were buying our books for the year. The Dark Lord has been defeated by now, but no one quite understands how." It was a short memory, from the bookstore where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books.

The two Malfoys dipped their heads in the Pensieve, and Hermione held her breath.

"That was the Weasley family? So many children," Narcissa said once they had viewed the memory. "I saw the date on a few articles, they all said 1992. This is so confusing."

Lucius didn't say anything, merely nodding at his wife. He had been at the cusp of his career at this point, secure in his position and wealth, the Malfoy name one to be reckoned with.

"Yes, time travel is terribly confusing."

Hermione showed them a few memories of Draco from the intervening years. It had been a bit difficult to select memories that didn't just portray him as a bigoted little brat. She added a few of those anyway but also had some Quidditch games and some lessons where he usually had the right answer if called upon. No Potions classes, though. She didn't want to give them that information, of who Severus had been in her time.

The next memory was from the Department of Mysteries. She included the scene from Umbridge's office, where Draco appeared again with his Inquisitor Squad, but then skipped to the part where they entered the department and were cornered by Lucius who very clearly wasn't pulling his punches. It was cut short when Dolohov cursed her, for obvious reasons.

"Bellatrix… She…" Narcissa whispered. "You were just teenagers?"

Even Lucius looked a bit pale after that.

Hermione nodded. "The Dark Lord made an appearance after I was cursed, forcing the Minister to believe in Professor Dumbledore who had tried to warn everyone of his return. Lucius and the others were caught after this battle and thrown in Azkaban. They were there for half a year before other Death Eaters broke them out. The… You-Know-Who moved into the Manor here and from what I heard of it, he basically took over the house, took Lucius' wand and used the Malfoy funds for his raids. Draco was forcibly Marked before starting his sixth year as punishment for Lucius' failure and told if he didn't kill Headmaster Dumbledore, that You-Know-Who would kill his parents instead. He was… that year, he was definitely miserable."

She gave them a few snippets from sixth year, of what she recalled of Draco. It wasn't a lot but she had some of memories from classes and meals. She'd spent most of the year obsessing over Ron and trying, somewhat ironically, to tell Harry that Draco wasn't a Death Eater. The Malfoys didn't comment on them, even if Narcissa was frowning.

Hermione hoped she wasn't about to make a massive mistake. Taking out the vial from her pocket she hesitated for a moment and then poured it into the shallow bowl, followed by another wispy strand from her mind.

"There are two memories left and I should warn you, they're quite long. The first is from Easter of what should have been my seventh Hogwarts year. Instead, we had been on the run from Death Eaters for half a year, living in a tent and trying to do something completely impossible. We were caught and brought here, to Malfoy Manor. Bellatrix thought we had stolen something from her, but the thing she had was a fake copy although she didn't know that. It was pure luck that let us… me… escape. The next after that is from the Final Battle. We won, we defeated You-Know-Who, but the cost was immense. It was partly thanks to you, Narcissa. You lied to him in exchange for information about Draco."

Lucius raised an eyebrow at her again before plunging in, followed by Narcissa. It would take them a while to go through the memory. Hermione wasn't sure how time worked in a Pensieve compared to outside of it. The memories spanned several hours — it had certainly felt like an age and a half when living through them — but when she'd let Severus view them it had taken him about an hour.

She retreated to the bay windows, looking out over the grounds but not really seeing anything. The memories hurt a lot less when they weren't in her mind, but the residual imprint of them was bad enough.

"Are you sure about this?" Severus asked her quietly. He had moved to her side, touching her upper arm almost hesitantly. "You know what he is. He's clever, he'll find a way to use anything you say even with the vow."

"I can't be certain of course," Hermione said, equally quietly. "I did the Arithmancy which showed that the Malfoys might be swayed to our side, especially her, and that if they did join us we'd have a significantly better chance."

An elf popped in with a tea set and scones, startling them a little. There were only two cups and plates as obviously the Malfoys would be busy a while. Severus shrugged and started preparing a scone for himself, making Hermione realise she was actually hungry.

They had finished their scones and two cups of tea each before the Malfoys returned. Lucius was the first to leave the Pensieve, looking paler than usual, his hair in disarray. He rose quickly and went over to the bay windows, flinging them open to get some fresh air. Narcissa, on the other hand, positively scowled at them and turned away from them, looking at something Hermione couldn't pinpoint.

To Hermione's surprise, Narcissa was the first to speak when the couple had arranged themselves on the couches again. "No. This cannot happen. I will not allow my son to grow up like that."

"Narcissa — " Lucius began but his wife held up her hand.

"I may be Malfoy but I'm also a Black. I'm not bound by Abraxas' wishes."

Narcissa looked elegant as always, but there was a strength to her that Hermione hadn't seen before, in the gaze that met hers straight on. Or perhaps it had always been there, but she hadn't noticed? She'd thought that Lucius would be the one to make decisions for the two of them but that was clearly not the case.

"You will help me bring… You-Know-Who down?"

"No."

Hermione frowned. "But…"

"I will not help you, Hermione Granger, but I will work to secure a better future for my children. One not ruled by the Dark Lord." Narcissa eyed her steadily, clearly having made up her mind.

That was probably the best she could hope for, at the moment. It was far more than she'd expected, even so. "I see. Well, it seems we have a common goal, in that case."

"Indeed. Let us be in touch."

With that, Narcissa rose from her seat. Hermione and Severus followed suit automatically, and soon found themselves hustled out the door without really understanding how that happened.

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

Spinner's End

Saturday Afternoon

Severus heaved a sigh of relief when they made it back to Spinner's End intact. The whole business had been insane right from the start, but he couldn't tell her that. It had worked, though. Gryffindor witches. They'd be the death of him, that much was certain. She'd asked him to join her for the visit but they hadn't had time to talk about her plans before going to the Manor. He probably would have tried to stop her otherwise, so perhaps she'd done that on purpose.

Crookshanks sauntered up to them, tail puffed up high. He meowed and looked rather pointedly at his empty food bowl. He seemed to have his witch well trained as she immediately went to refill it. The half-Kneazle flicked his tail at them and started eating, no longer caring about the two humans. Severus didn't see Menace anywhere but the bird enjoyed being outdoors during the days. He hadn't admitted it out loud yet but the animals were good companions, both of them.

"I didn't expect Narcissa to be the one to speak up." She dumped her bag on the sofa table before pulling off her outer robes.

He shrugged. "In public, Pure-blood witches don't talk much. In private, however, they're often running the show. After Narcissa's made her choice Lucius will follow."

"Oh, really. Well I guess that shouldn't be a surprise."

She muttered something under her breath about Patriarchy and Victorian ages that he didn't quite catch. Severus did agree with her, but her ire made him want to kiss her senseless instead. There had been too little kissing during this excursion. It made him a bit uncertain, had the events in the Shafiq gardens been a mistake? He certainly didn't think so but he hadn't asked her what she thought about it, either. Hopefully there would be more chances at kissing, and perhaps more although he didn't want to presume too much and get disappointed, as usual.

"There's still the matter of the diary, another Horcrux." Hermione pulled out her notebooks from the bag and started going through them again. "I'll have to talk to them again about that."

He was quite certain she knew all those words by heart by now. "Yes, but not now. You did it, Hermione."

She smiled at him, finally putting the books and bag down. "We did, didn't we? This calls for pizza or something, to celebrate."

"Good plan."

There was a pizza place in the posher part of Cokeworth. He'd seen it before but his mother had only let him try it a few times, when his father had received a bonus at work and was in an unusually good mood. They walked there and back, Hermione taking hold of his arm as if it was a completely natural thing to do, talking about the goblins and Gringotts and how she was trying to figure out the rules of their society, sometimes with rather amusing results. He listened with half an ear, a part of his mind still stuck on the fact that they'd somehow survived blackmailing the Malfoys, and another — and growing — part much more interested in cataloguing the way she felt against his side, how her scent filled his nose, and the way her smile felt when it was directed at him.

They brought the food back with them, bickering about pizza toppings. Hermione had ordered ham and pineapple and that simply couldn't be an acceptable combination. He had gone for the sensible choice of pepperoni, which was obviously superior, but she had adamantly insisted on her choice and made him carry both boxes back.

Pizza on the sofa turned out to be a most excellent idea, anyway. They talked about anything and everything not related to Death Eaters or Malfoy, or at least Hermione did while Severus mostly listened. She talked about her upbringing in a much more affluent part of the country than Cokeworth. Her father was apparently also appalled by pineapple on pizza while her mother had insisted on it being a perfectly acceptable topping. Severus hadn't really thought about her in those terms, as someone who used to have a family, but she was effectively an orphan in this time. The whole concept of family felt foreign to him. His own had never been much of one.

"Hermione, do you want to go back home? I mean, to where you grew up. Your parents are still there, I could join you if you want to go see them."

She stilled, biting her lower lip, eyes growing large as she looked directly at him.

"You would do that? You'd go with me?"

"Of course? If you'd want my company."

"Oh! Thank you!"

She flung herself at him, arms wound tightly around his neck. He'd barely managed to put his pizza slice down, one of hers which wasn't as horrible as he'd expected although he'd never admit it out loud.

His arms went around her shoulders. Her tits were pressed most distractingly against his upper chest, and her hair was about to suffocate him.

He kissed her then, hesitantly touching his lips to hers, expecting her to pull away and slap him. She didn't. Instead she moaned and shifted closer to him, moving her lips under his. Tentatively he let his tongue out to taste her lips. When she opened her mouth to him he inhaled sharply through his nose, the sensations threatening to overwhelm him. It was like in the gardens but better, she wanted him, to do this again, not just in some sort of odd retaliation against Reg and his father.

"Severus…"

His name had never sounded like that, ever. It gave him goosebumps to hear it from her lips. "Gods, witch, you're intoxicating."

His heart was beating a mile a minute and he could hardly believe it was actually happening, that she was willingly in his arms. She placed a hand on his cheek before tilting her head to kiss him and he was lost again. One of his hands rubbed circles over her back before pulling up her top a little. Her skin was silken to the touch, warm and smooth. He just had to — needed to touch, to fondle, to feel her. She moaned against his mouth when he cupped her breast over her bra. It fit perfectly in his hand, the nipple hard through the thin fabric.

"I'm not… I haven't…" She blushed, looked down and bit her lower lip. "This is all new to me. Take it slow?"

He nodded sharply, not trusting his voice, and forced his hands to still. Slow, he could do slow. Certainly. Although his body was screaming for more, for release, his mind was getting drunk on the closeness, her hand in his hair, the weight of her on his lap, her scent in his nostrils. Somehow that felt more, more everything. Raw, intimate, intoxicating. She reached up to kiss him again and he let her take the lead but couldn't help but to groan when her nails scratched the back of his head. Her neck was so inviting right in front of his face, he couldn't resist the urge to kiss the junction of her neck and shoulder. She moaned again, making his dick twitch.

Slow was difficult, nigh on impossible. Slow was savouring her scent, of jasmine and vanilla and witch, mapping her clavicle with his lips. Slow was her hands running up and down his spine, causing a trail of goosebumps to appear. Slow was nipping the corner of her mouth, causing her to turn her head to kiss him properly again, all tongues and lips and breath and moans. She tasted just right. Slow was letting her kiss his nose, his forehead, his eyelids.

A yawn escaped without notice. It had been a long week working day and night at the workshop for Pyrites, and a stressful day not knowing if they'd make it out of Malfoy Manor alive or be thrown in the dungeons when Lucius got too upset with them. Perhaps not, on second thought, but Severus definitely felt things could have gone much, much worse.

"It's late."

"Oh! Oh, yes." She hopped off his lap and would have fled upstairs if he hadn't held onto her hand.

"No, I mean… would you, that is, would you sleep… in my bed? Only to sleep, promise? I wouldn't… I've never…" He felt his cheeks heat up and was grateful for the dim light in the room or she'd have seen him blushing.

"Oh, yes I'd like that too." She beamed a smile at him. "I need a quick shower though."

He nodded and let her go, listening to her quick steps up the steep stairs and then as the shower turned on, before he shook himself and quickly set the kitchen and sitting room back in order. On the way upstairs he was suddenly struck by a need to clean the bedroom, worried that she'd be disgusted by him before whatever this was even got started. A quick Scourgify would have to do for the sheets since he didn't have any extra. He cast another couple of cleaning spells over the room too, just in case.

Once it was his turn to shower he didn't need much encouragement to spill his own release down the drain. It didn't help much with the feverish arousal but at least the physical ache lessened some. Meanwhile she'd gone to her room to change and do whatever witches did to get ready for the night.

He lay stiffly on his back, feeling uncomfortable in a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms when he usually slept just in his underpants, and listened as she shuffled around the bed. It creaked when she sat down next to him, dressed similarly in a grey t-shirt and some kind of soft shorts. She scooted closer, laying on her side next to him with his arm under her neck.

"Is this okay?"

Her warm breath on his neck made the hairs on his leg stand on end. Not trusting his voice, he nodded and pulled her closer so that her head rested on both the pillow and his shoulder. She was warm, as was her hand when she put it on his chest. His heart felt full to bursting, so many feelings wanting to emerge, he wasn't sure what to do with them all.

"I could get used to this." She yawned, her breath puffing against his neck again.

He nodded against her hair, and fervently hoped they'd have reason to get used to it.

Sleep came quicker than he'd expected, her soft breathing enticing him to close his eyes and discard all his worries.

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

The sound of retching woke him up the next morning. The bed felt oddly empty and it took him a moment to catch up. Hermione emerged from the bathroom, wiping her mouth with a towel. He rose from the bed to go check on her, wondering if the pizza had been bad. Pineapple couldn't be trusted, after all.

She was holding a vial, one he clearly remember putting on his bedside table, one that had been filled with the memory of the worst day of his life.

"I'm sorry but how could you, Severus?"

"Oh no…"

He staggered backwards, clumsily avoiding the doorframe until he hit the edge of the bed they'd just shared, and sat down, feeling his heart shatter into a million sharp little pieces inside his chest.