Severus wasn't sure when he realized he was in water. Well, it was fluid. He was hesitant to try and identify it. There were so many unpleasant possibilities. The fluid moved around him, and it moved him. His legs bumped against the soft flesh of another's. He seemed tethered to another body beneath him. Long tendrils of hair floated around his face blocking any ability to see his surroundings.

He didn't need to breathe. A good thing considering his location. He floated. Another damned soul in the river Styx, no doubt. He deserved it. Wanting to be alone, he tried to push away the body beneath him.

The body shifted, but he couldn't move away from it. Perhaps this was part of his punishment. There could be no sense of solitude and no freedom. He was settling into dark thoughts when the arm of his partner reached awkwardly up and caressed his face.

There was affection in the hand's gentle exploration. How was he supposed to respond? Did the being to which he was connected expect reciprocation?

He'd tried to push the body away, but, perhaps, he needed to find a way to bring it closer. He moved his arms down and wrapped them around the body beneath him. It was decidedly feminine. He slid his palms along her sides from the soft flesh under her breasts to the flare of her gently rounded hips and back again.

She had a nice form. He felt strangely possessive of her. Now that he had touched her, he wanted more. He wanted to cup her breasts in his hands, to feel her nipples press into his palms. He wanted to sink his teeth into the shoulder tucked beneath his chin.

Perhaps this was damnation in truth to be tied to temptation through all eternity, to never slake his desire. He wanted air around him. He wanted to take a deep breath and fill his lungs. The water nudged his body closer to hers. He felt the round curves of her derrière brush against him.

His body responded to the casual brushing of their flesh. Was it casual or was it some trick? Give into temptation and never reach the shore? Was there a shore? He'd never studied the death legends for all of his being a death eater. Was she some bit of peace in this odd world? Was he meant to couple with her?

There were times being a Gryffindor would be a relief. He wanted just once to be bold and to act without analyzing every detail. How very droll. In death, he longed to break free and live.

Her hand pulled his up and pressed his palm between her breasts. He could feel a heart beating slowly against his palm. His logical mind started toward another round of questions when something stopped it. His rational thoughts drifted away like the steam from a cauldron. All he could do was feel.

The glide of her skin under his fingers was entrancing. Her skin was not rubbery or waterlogged. He cupped her breasts and stroked her nipples with his thumbs. He could feel the ripples of tightened skin that formed her areola. Her body arched into his and he felt warmth bloom where her back settled against his chest.

Warmth had been lost to him, but he felt it now. It twisted through his body giving him new flexibility and power in his muscles. His cock hardened further and he felt it pressing against the flower of his partner's femininity.

The turn of phrase wrinkled his nose even as he enjoyed the image it created in his mind.

He shoved his legs down and felt thin, silty mud and pebbles under his feet.

His mind fired even as he slid his hands down to her hips. He felt his heart beat, felt his lungs burn, and felt his cock align against her. There was water. There was land. There was air. He dig his toes deep into the mud and thrust up, imp along his partner and screaming his triumph into the first light of dawn.

He heard her sputter as he pulled her up into the sun. The tattoo of some flower on her back flickered in the light. He registered all of this, but none of it was as stunning as the membrane he'd ruptured.

"Don't stop." She gasped. "You can't stop."

He blinked. Her long hair obscured her face, but there was something very familiar about her voice.

"So help me, if we fail this close to shore, just fuck me. Stop thinking." That voice pushed at him. "You have to do this and you have to get us to shore. I'm sorry, but if you want to live..."

He saw the length of cotton on shore. He could do this. Where ever he was, this was a chance.

He thrust into her again and took a step forward. The shallow water gave him better purchase and allowed her to help. She rammed back into him.

Gods, he wanted to stop and revel in her tight heat. He yanked her back against him. The slap of their skin and the splash of the water distracted him. How was he supposed to get them to shore?

"You can finish on land, but you have to do it before the sun breaks the horizon." She panted and managed to press up onto him. "Carry me."

He found himself awkwardly wading to shore with her impaled on him. Sex magic was never as sexy as it sounded. Awkward pauses and timing issues were the least of it, but this woman he could almost place seemed to know what was needed.

He pushed up onto the cotton fabric and pulled every bit of his flesh fee of the water. He collapsed against her back and pushed further into her. Gods, she was tight. He shuddered and pulled her hips up as he gained his knees. He closed his eyes and set a fast pace. He let his body work while his mind focused. Her small breathy moans and grunts were distracting, but he had to piece this puzzle together.

Her fingers fumbled at their joined flesh, and he heard her chanting in a language he didn't know. The mystery would wait. Being alive was enough.

He dragged a wonderful breath deep into his lungs. With each snap of his hips, he felt more real, more present in the world. He reached out and pressed his hand to the center of her tattoo. Blue leaves emerged and wrapped around his fingers, holding him tight.

Energy flooded into him through the connection. Something warmer than the sunlight pushed up into his body and took root. Life flowed into him. He felt it settling into his cells, renewing him.

"Oh, goodness." The woman shuddered and he felt her body contract around him. He lost his steady rhythm and roared as his body broke into bliss.

A blue light flared around them. He felt warmed and welcomed. The magical light faded and he looked to the horizon to see the sun fully risen.

He slid down to the sheet, pulling the witch to his chest and holding her close. Gratitude filled him. This remarkable being had pulled him back to the living.

"Welcome back, Professor." She whispered, and he knew her.

He was flooded with images of the girl she had been. His stomach roiled, and he pulled free of her. He saw her flinch and felt a flash of guilt.

"What have you done, Miss Granger?"

She turned over, and he saw the scars decorating her body. This was not the school girl he remembered. She was older and settled into herself.

"Disturbed the natural order of things." She blushed lightly as he examined her, but she made no effort to hide her body from his perusal. "You gave everything to see us safe, to help us win. You deserved a second chance."

"Dark magic? I never imagined you would turn into a necromancer." Severus sneered at her.

"Not every resurrection spell is dark." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Any spell that pulls a life from beyond forges a bond between the castor and the victim. What am I supposed to do while I stand in your service?" He crossed his arms over his chest.

"I didn't want you forced or controlled." Miss Granger sighed. "It took some work, but I came up with a solution."

She opened her hand to reveal a small river rock with a natural hole in it. He could see runes etched into the surface.

"A bit of rock will free me from your service?" He raised one brow.

"I'm not your student anymore." She conjured a cord and made a necklace of the stone. "I'm a curse breaker, and I know what I'm doing. The stone will allow you to walk free. I didn't bring you back to serve me. I did it because you deserve a chance."

She grabbed his hand and shoved the stone into it. He watched the runes light as it came in contact with his flesh. When they faded, she pulled her hands away from him.

"Are there any caveats?" Severus rubbed the stone with his fingers.

"Don't lose it." She stood and winced as her flesh shifted. "I can not make another. Your dark Mark is gone. Your debts are cleared. I arranged for your vault to be preserved, so you've money. All you have to do is live as you see fit."

"It's that simple?" He watched her grab a bag from the grass next to the sheet. Her body was toned but still feminine. The image of the hand waving girl was gone. This was a witch in her prime.

"It is." She pulled out a bundle of clothes and handed them to him. "Andromeda Tonks will be here in a few minutes. She said an hour or two after dawn."

"That gives us at best forty five minutes." Severus sighed. "Why did you involve her?"

"She was your friend, and I needed her to get your things from Malfoy Manor. I didn't look at them. I needed something bearing your magical signature. Draco might have helped, but Andromeda was willing." Hermione smiled wryly. "I thought you might appreciate the aid of a fellow Slytherin over a hoard of Weasleys. The clothes are muggle. I can adjust them for you if I got the sizes wrong. I'm not sure what happened to your wand. I'm sorry."

"I think you have done quite enough. You need not apologize to me." He watched her dress in jeans and a long sleeved shirt before scrambling into his own similar clothes. He slipped the necklace over his head and tucked it under his shirt, enjoying the warmth of it against his skin.

"I need to clean this up." Hermione flicked her fingers and his things floated to him. He clutched the blanket and the pictures to his chest.

He stepped off the sheet and felt the grass beneath his feet. It was damp with dew. He took a deep breath and watched as the witch pulverized her tools to dust and burned the sheet in a quick blast of blue flame. She was thorough and precise. When nothing was left but ash and dust she scattered it on the winds.

"Do you want me to stay?" She smiled up at him. "Just until Andromeda gets here. I'm not trying to crowd you."

He wanted her to stay, of course he wanted her to stay, but he couldn't form the words. She was standing there with sunlight pulling gold and copper highlights from her wild hair. She looked more goddess than human.

"I forgot your shoes." She shook her head and set her curls dancing. "I'm sorry."

She reached deeply into her bag and held out a pair of dragon hide boots with socks sticking out of one. He frowned and tried to figure out how to keep his things dry.

She flicked her wand and there was a table and two chairs next to him. He fought the urge to smile. She was one step ahead. Always.

"I've got some tea in a thermos and some light options." She reached into her bag once more pulling out various items and setting them on the table. "Heavy food sounded like a poor choice after a rebirth."

He nodded and put his bundle down. He didn't want to put on his boots yet, but he set them beside the closest chair for later.

There weren't words for the gift she had given him. How was he supposed to thank her?

Andromeda apparated in with a sharp crack. She was early. He looked at the woman and raised a brow. It was fun to watch her glower back.

He turned back toward Hermione, but she was gone.

"She's gone to reassure Bill Weasley." Andromeda sat in the chair across the table. "He figured out what she was doing recently. He was less than happy with her taking such a risk."

He nodded. Andromeda had always loved to prattle on. It had seemed an odd behavior for a housemate in his school days, but it was a comfort now. He let her words wash over him as he sat.

Alive and whole and free.

Merlin, the whole world was out there waiting to be explored.