Chapter 20

I know that each one of us travels to love alone,
alone to faith and to death.
I know it. I've tried it. It doesn't help.
Let me come with you.

- Yannis Ritsos [Moonlight Sonata]

Rose awoke having slept all the way through the night for the first time in weeks. Yawning, she blinked hazily, snuggling closer into the warm arms that held her. She felt safe here. The fingers that cupped her breast twitched in his sleep, and Rose could feel his breath on the back of her neck. She smiled when Remus pulled her tighter against his chest in his sleep. Blinking against the morning light, Rose realized with a sudden start that she had spent the night.

Sitting up quickly, she glanced around the room for a clock and let out a slow breath when she saw that the hands pointed to 7:30. She might be cutting it close, but she'd still be able to make it to work on time. Remus stretched and yawned behind her, causing Rose to glance down at the man. He blinked sleepily up at her, his blue eyes looking not quite awake yet, his hair sticking out at messy angles. She couldn't help the grin that crossed her face at the sight. Bending down, she kissed him softly. When she pulled away, he looked much more alert.

"It wasn't a dream then," he said, letting one of his hands run down her back, enjoying the feel of her bare skin.

"Nope," she agreed with a contented smile. "I do have to go though. I'm going to be late for work."

She laughed when Remus wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against his chest, and buried his face in her hair. Snuggling into his embrace, she allowed herself a few more minutes of cuddling. When she felt him beginning to grow hard beneath her, Rose decided it was time to get up otherwise she really was going to be late for work.

"Remus," she protested in mock grumpiness when he didn't loosen his grip on her. He silenced her with a long kiss before finally allowing her to draw away. Rose began looking around for her clothes that had been flung haphazardly around the room.

"Where is my sweater," she asked, sliding into her pants.

"I seem to remember us getting rid of that in the hallway," he answered, and Rose didn't miss that satisfaction in his voice at the memory. A grin tugged at her lips again.

"Do you mind if I use your bathroom," she asked, heading to the bedroom door.

"Not at all," he answered through another yawn.

Stealing one last glance at him, Rose exited the room, grabbing her sweater off the ground, and walked into the bathroom across the hallway. She quickly detangled her hair, washed her face, and used her wand to reapply makeup and get rid of her morning breath. By the time she was done, she felt like she at least no longer looked like a complete mess. Exiting, she heard noise from the kitchen and realized Remus must have gotten up.

She smiled when she saw him looking through one of the upper cabinets. A pair of pajama bottoms was slung low around his hips, and Rose leaned against the doorframe, letting her eyes wander appreciatively around his bare torso.

"I don't know if I have anything I can offer for breakfast," he said, running his hand through his messy hair in irritation.

"Don't worry about it, I need to head out anyways," she replied.

"Maybe we can do breakfast next time," he said, closing the cabinet and turning to look at her. Rose couldn't help the thrill in her stomach at the words.

"Next time?" she asked hopefully, looking up at him while he walked around the kitchen island.

"Assuming you want there to be a next time," he said with a grin, letting his arms wrap around her waist.

"Very, very much," Rose answered. Remus stared down at her for a long moment before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, her cheek, her nose, and finally her lips.

"I love you, Rose," he said, holding her tightly against his chest. Rose allowed her eyes to flicker shut, taking a long deep breath and etching the feel of his embrace into her mind.

"I love you too, Remus," she answered. With a final squeeze he reluctantly released her, his fingertips sliding slowly from her waist.

Remus watched Rose until she disappeared out the front door before moving into the kitchen and sinking into a seat at the table. Running a hand through his hair, he felt inexplicably jittery. The events of the previous night continued to replay over and over in his mind, bringing with them feelings of desire, adoration, and anxiety. He had told Rose he loved her. Even though he'd promised himself not to burden the young woman with his love months ago. But her unflinching resolve in her own feelings for him had made it impossible to keep silent any longer. She loved him. She loved him, and he loved her, and their relationship had once more turned into a giant fucking mess.

'What are you doing, Remus,' he asked himself sternly, closing his eyes and sighing deeply.

'Trying to be happy,' he answered, looking out of the window at the snowy winter morning.

And he was happy. He couldn't keep a goofy smile from spreading across his face every time the thought of her body beneath his own or remembered her profession of love. He knew that this relationship—was it even a relationship? Affair, more like—was just as doomed as when they had been teacher and student. But was it worth the eventual heartache to experience the kind of happiness he was currently feeling? Remus didn't know—not really. But it had been worth it last night, and it was worth it today. They'd have to see what the future would bring. For now, it was enough. It was more than enough. Touching his fingers to his lips where Rose had kissed him goodbye, he smiled.

The pair didn't have many opportunities for a next meeting over the holidays. The full moon was once again approaching, and Rose had commitments with both her family and with Mariko's approaching wedding. Rose wondered if dreading the Malfoy's annual Christmas party was going to become a new tradition. This year, the dread was not due to an engagement party but in part because neither Draco nor Severus were going to be there—they had remained at Hogwarts for the Yule Ball—and also because she was certain that Cyrus Smythe would be there.

"You look beautiful," Stefan told her with a tired smile, offering his arm for her to take while they walked across the manor grounds.

"Thank you, you look nice too," she responded, slipping a gloved arm through his.

She felt a bit awkward around him since the night she'd spent with Remus. When he'd asked her where she'd been the next day, Rose had continued to follow Severus' recommendation for secrecy and told him she'd been at Sam's. She was certain Stefan suspected she'd lied and was hurt that she hadn't confided in him when he'd always been honest with her. But with the rising stakes, Rose was unwilling to feel guilty about it.

"I know I've been… gloomy lately," Stefan said while they walked. "And I'm sorry for that—"

"You don't have to be—" Rose began, but Stefan lifted a hand, cutting her off.

"I am though. I know you've been struggling these past months too, and I've been unfair to you. Let's just relax tonight and enjoy each other's company," he said with a smile. Rose felt her heart clench in her chest at these words, and she leaned into him, resting her head momentarily on his shoulder.

"I'd like that," she responded, and Stefan briefly squeezed her hand before they joined the party.

For the first few hours, the pair did a good job of this. They drank and danced and laughed with one another. As Stefan spun her around the dancefloor, Rose realized how much he had come to mean to her over the past year. It was strange to find that this man who had so abruptly entered her life had quickly become one of her closest friends. Even though their marriage had caused so many difficulties in both of their lives, she couldn't imagine having gone through the past few months without his support and compassion. Rose let her head fall on his shoulder while they spun in slow circles together. Because of this, she felt when his body tensed. Lifting her head, she looked at him in confusion.

"What is it," she asked.

"Nothing," he said quickly, but turning her head, Rose saw Damien walking through the crowd toward the drink table.

"What is he doing here? He's got a lot of nerve—" Rose asked quietly.

"I imagine your parents invited him," Stefan said placatingly. "It would have been rude for him not to come."

"Stefan… I like Damien, he's a great boss. But why are you defending him after how he treated you," she whispered back into his ear.

"Let's not talk about this right now," he said, his eyes not meeting hers.

"Stefan—"

"Please, Rose," he said, his voice gravely with emotion. "I just… I can't."

Rose dropped his hands and stepped away.

"Fine," she said irritably, walking away from him.

"Rose," he called after her, but she knew he wouldn't follow. She walked straight over to the drink table, grabbed another glass of wine, tossed her long red hair over her shoulder and smiled at her boss.

"Hello Damien," she greeted with a forced sweetness. His blue eyes glanced over her calculatingly and he took three large gulps of wine before answering.

"Rose… lovely to see you."

"What are you doing here," she whispered.

"Straight to the point… unexpected," he drawled irritably. Rose put a hand on her hip and sipped her own drink with raised eyebrows. "Your parents sent me an invitation. Believe me, if I thought I could have stayed home without offending them, I would have."

"You can be such an ass sometimes," she hissed at him. Damien's eyes narrowed at her.

"And you can be such a fucking sweetheart," he responded. "How much have you had to drink anyways, it's not even ten o'clock."

Rose's cheeks colored at this question.

"Not… much," she said cagily, Damien's annoyed look softened into an amused smile.

"Look," he said. "I'm not here to give him or you a hard time. I didn't want to start drama with your parents. I know they were hesitant about you working with me to begin with."

Rose sipped her drink quietly at this, feeling a bit guilty at how fast she'd jumped to conclusions about him.

"I'm sorry… he's just really been struggling," Rose said and didn't miss the flash of pain that passed over his face. "I know you still love him. Can't you just—"

"No," he said firmly.

"Damien."

"No," he said again before dropping her gaze.

Rose downed the rest of her glass and spun away from him.

"Fine," she said irritably, glancing around for Stefan. Scanning the ballroom, she thought she saw his midnight blue dress robes disappearing down a side hallway and hurried after him. Stepping out of the ballroom, Rose made her way down the hallway, glancing around cautiously. Where had he gone?

"There you are Roselin," a voice interrupted her search. Rose's eyes closed momentarily as she took in the voice before turning with a smile.

"Margot," she greeted tightly. Her mother-in-law was wearing a midnight blue dress in almost the same color as Stefan's. The serious woman smiled thinly at her, and there was an excited gleam in her eyes that set Rose on guard.

"Walk with me Roselin," Margot commanded.

"Of course," she replied, trying to keep the hesitation from her voice. Margot had never sought out her company before, and it put her instantly on guard. Following in her mother-in-law's wake, Rose took deep breaths and tried to empty her mind of various emotions. This was easier said than done given her inebriated state, and Rose cursed herself for letting her guard down when she'd known Margot was going to be here.

"Where are we going," Rose asked cautiously, as Margot led her down to the first floor and out of the manor towards the gardens.

"Never you mind. Take this time to compose yourself. I will not be forgiving if you embarrass me," she snapped. Rose could feel an icy sweat breaking out across her body.

'This is it,' she thought, as they made their way through the ornate hedge maze in the center of the gardens. 'This has to be it.'

The center of the maze opened into a small courtyard with a beautiful gazebo in the center. Rose had always loved playing here as a child. In this moment, all she felt was fear. Her whole body had begun to shake, and it wasn't just because of the cold winter air. She could see the silhouette of a man standing in the gazebo but couldn't make out the figure seated in one of the chairs from this distance.

"My lord," Margot stopped and bowed at the steps to the gazebo. "I've brought the girl as you instructed."

"Well done," a thin high voice came from the small bundle on the chair. Rose's mind snapped out of its frozen state in time for her to copy Margot and bow low, her red hair slipping forward to obscure her face.

"Come," the voice instructed. Rose hesitated before her body moved forward as if of its own accord. She stared down at the steps while she walked up them, before stopping in front of the chair and sinking to her knees. When she finally looked up, Rose knew she'd made the right choice in kneeling as she was sure she would have collapsed regardless. Red slitted eyes stared down at her out of a pale scaled face. A sudden wave of nausea flooded her body as she looked at the deformed serpentine creature staring out at her from a bundle of blankets.

"The elder Potter. I have been longing to meet you," Voldemort hissed.

"M—my lord," Rose stammered out, bowing so low that her face was almost pressed into the ground, her entire body trembling.

"We will see about that," he mused. "Look at me."

Very slowly, Rose lifted her face from the ground and looked into his crimson eyes. She resisted the temptation to slam down her mental defenses, knowing that it would be a massive mistake to do so.

"You are right to fear Lord Voldemort," he said, not dropping her gaze. "Give me your hand."

Rose's face creased in confusion at this instruction, but extended her hand nevertheless. It took all of her willpower not to recoil when the deformed infant body reached out and grasped her hand in his own. She heard a sharp intake of breath from both Peter and Margot as their hands touched. She shivered at the cold scaly skin against her own. A hiss escaped the Dark Lord's lips, and he dropped her hand.

"My lord?" Pettigrew questioned timidly from his side.

"It is as I suspected, her mother's protection no longer flows through her veins," he hissed. Both Margot and Pettigrew let out sighs of disappointment. "It is no matter. We shall simply continue as planned."

"Couldn't—my Lord, forgive me, but couldn't we use her anyways—"

"Silence, Wormtail. We have already discussed this," Voldemort snapped at the man, and he bowed low in submission.

Voldemort observed her silently for a few long moments while Rose's mind filled with questions. They had thought the Dark Lord might have been able to use her in some way. But why and for what purpose? What protection had Lily given her and why was it now gone?

"Tell me, Potter, what is it like to look into the eyes of the one who murdered your parents," he sneered at her, and Rose swallowed dryly.

"Lucius and Narcissa are my parents, my lord," Rose answered as clearly as she could manage. She was at least relieved to find that at the moment she was too overwhelmed by fear to feel much of anything else.

"So I have been informed," he said. "Margot here has assured me that you are a loyal daughter and daughter-in-law. Tell me, girl, is she right?"

"Y-yes, my lord. I am as loyal to my parents as they are to you," she said quickly, mustering all the sincerity she could.

"And yet their loyalty is not without question either," he replied. "But all will be made clear in time. One cannot lie to Lord Voldemort."

Rose felt cold at this statement. She had known that the Dark Lord would have concerns about her, but she hadn't thought he would question Lucius' loyalty. Were her father and mother in danger as well? Is this why Voldemort had not confided in them? But how had Margot's loyalty not been questioned if her parents' had?

"You did not seem surprised to see me tonight."

"No, my lord. D-Dumbledore told me that you would seek me out, and I saw Margot speaking to Peter Pettigrew on Halloween," she said honestly. She heard Margot hiss quietly at Dumbledore's name.

"You do well not to lie," he said. "But did Dumbledore not seek to prepare you further? Is a warning all he gave you?"

Rose felt a flicker of irritation at the memory of Dumbledore instructing her to continue occlumency lessons with Severus Snape. She remembered how angry she'd been with him to the point that she had wholeheartedly ignored Dumbledore's advice.

"Ah… Severus," he replied, and Rose felt a jolt of unease course through her body at his words. "And what has my faithless servant done to earn the ire of Roselin Malfoy?"

This time Rose could feel the pressure of his mind against her own as he sought for an answer. She felt her cheeks redden as a memory floated unbidden to her mind.

Rose was laying in dark sheets, eyes closed while she drifted somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. The room was hot from the fire, so she'd pushed the comforter down to her thighs. The glow of the firelight turned her creamy skin to a warm golden color. Long pale fingers traced up her thigh and across her side making her squirm beneath his touch.

"Ticklish are we," his velvety voice inquired, fingers lingering on her side where they made another lazy trail back down to her hip. Rose swatted at his hand, cracking her eye open, her lips drawing back in a smile. She looked at the dark-haired man laying beside her, his normally impassive onyx eyes unexpectedly warm in the semi-darkness. Her heart fluttered at the unfamiliar expression on his face.

"S—staahp it," she said sleepily, trying to stifle a yawn.

"You have it backwards, Roselin. I'm the one who tells you what to do, not the other way around," he replied sardonically, tracing his finger back up her side. Rose giggled and squirmed, catching his hand in her own and yanking it away, flipping onto her back. Severus was pulled toward her by the sudden motion, his dark hair falling into his face as he leaned over her.

Rose's heart beat rapidly in her chest at the closeness of his body to her own, his face mere inches from hers. His eyes moved to her hair, and he disentangled his hand from hers, gently plucking a red curl from her face. Dropping his head, he pressed the lock of hair to his lips. Pushing herself up onto her elbows, she captured his lips in her own.

High cold laughter brought her out of the memory, red eyes staring down at her with an appraising look.

"How very, very interesting."