The field around was bathed in star-lit darkness. Tall flowers breaking through the thawing earth to reach towards the heavens stretched in all directions. A wood surrounded the clearing, giving the center the feeling of safety in seclusion. The full moon overhead gave it a silvery glow.
"A beautiful graveyard is it not?"
Hermione's jaw twitched to the sound of a voice she'd never wanted to commit to memory, "I never cared much for flowers."
The man who approached grinned at her catty response, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. Almost instantly, Hermione could feel as though something was wrong, that the man despite his resemblance seemed to be missing something. Her eyes narrowed as he drew closer, a small stone pedestal coming to form between them. The line in the sand.
"I'm surprised you've come alone, so eager to meet me without your Master?" Marxan raised his hand and as if summoned from elsewhere, the cup appeared just waiting to be taken.
"He's not my master and I don't need help disposing of you." Hermione's senses were in overdrive. All the instincts she'd picked up over her time with Severus kicking into gear. It wasn't until a small breeze blew across her face did she realize what had been bothering her.
Even from a distance, she should have been able to smell him. He always smelled strong, like smoke and death. It wasn't something that could be washed off with water, it was his essence. Her brain went into overdrive when a memory suddenly gave her the answer she needed. The man before her was not real, that his actual body was somewhere else. He was astral projecting. A coward, to the end.
Not wanting to show her hand, she took a small step forward, "What's to stop you from running off once I give you the dragon?"
Marxan grinned slowly, his tongue coming out to lick his bottom lip, "What's to stop me from killing you now and taking it for myself?"
Hermione's jaw twitched, "How do you know I even have it on me?"
"I suppose I could just..." Marxan's head tilted, his hands folding behind his back, "Strip you down until I find it?"
A cold shiver ran down her spine and despite how tightly she held herself, her arms trembled. She didn't want his hands on her, she didn't want to smell his breath on her lips. It made her stomach churn at the thought of it and pushed up memories she had so valiantly pushed down deep into the darkness of her mind.
"You promised me a battle, are you that afraid to die?"
"Afraid of you? Hardly. Replace the cup, and you'll get your battle."
Hermione had begged for Severus to allow her to fight him one on one. He had relented reluctantly but he had insisted that he would be nearby. She'd taken her ear cuff but she hadn't heard a single sound since she'd been taken by the portkey inside of Marxan's return missive. She wasn't sure how far she'd gone, though she knew that Severus' skill as a spy surely enabled him to follow her undetected.
A thick swallow moved her forward, but her instincts were screaming out at her. While she tried to keep her head forward so as not to let on that she knew something was amiss, her body was winding up for a fight. She kept her eyes on the 'man' displayed before her before slowly pulling out an enchanted cloth. If he had done something to the cup, or the cup itself was protected, the cloth would help to keep her safe.
When her fingers wrapped around the cup's brim she could feel a pulse of energy through the protections. So cocky was he, to have brought the real cup. Severus had told her what to feel for, and she recalled what it had felt like when she'd taken it from the Goblin. Yes, he'd actually brought the Horocrux.
Putting the cup into her expanded pocket, she looked away for only a moment. It was in the following seconds, where she'd begun to pull out the Dragon from her cloak that the call of an Eagle—flying low—raised her head.
"Got you."
Hermione turned sharply, the feeling of a large arm wrapping around her waist just as she turned to avoid it made her stomach churn. That was the smell she'd come to know, the aura that filled the air with danger and enforced submission. Her hand curled tight into a fist and her body took control. Turning on her heel, she ripped herself free of the man's grip only to send a punch directly into his exposed side; the force of it aided by her wandless magic.
Shock painted Marxan's face as he found himself flying back at least three feet, a heavy crack vibrating up his side from the whore's punch. He had used his skill with Astral projection to search the outer laying forest. Trying to find where her guardian was hiding. He was certain she would never have been allowed to come on her own, she was hardly a person in his eyes. Merely a pet, a tool.
"Fucking wench!" Landing on his back made his slurr come out on a heavily knocked breath. Though he wasn't so easily felled. He'd only restrained himself to ensure that she had indeed brought his prize. Now that he knew she was carrying it. There was no more reason to keep her alive, "Avada Kedavra!"
Hermione let out a sharp squeak, having taken a small bit of pride in her punch, she'd almost lost her life. Thankfully, his aim was just a little too far to the right to have hit her center and her body was able to rock back just enough to allow the spell to ghost over her chest, leaving it feeling cold. Another sharp spin put the pedestal between them and put her wand into her palm.
Marxan snarled, pushing himself up to his feet, his wounded side pulsed from the movement but it was easy to push it aside. His next three spells made the field tremble. His sharp eyes easily tracked her through the smoke left behind by his attack, his own shield keeping her pathetic attempts at reprisal from slowing him down.
Hermione had taken notice of the anti-apparation wards coming down around them, though she couldn't be sure if they were of his doing or of Severus'. She would have thought he would have revealed himself by now but didn't have the luxury of waiting around for him to do so. Her own spells were making a direct hit though they didn't seem to be having much of an impact.
"Time to put you back in your place!" The loud rattle of a conjured chain rang through the air, Marxan's eyes gleaming when it took hold. A sharp pull elicited a most wonderful sound that brought him pleasure all the way to his loins.
A sharp cry brought Hermione's hands up to the chain that had wrapped tightly around her neck. Her body pitched forward but she refused to be brought to her knees, "Fuck you!" Her fingers tightened around the chain even though she could feel the muscles in her neck becoming bruised. Her eyes flared red when the fire she'd conjured forward raced down the chain.
Her spell released the chain from his grip but not from around her neck. Staggering forward she slashed hard through the air, a bright green cutting curse nearly taking off one of his arms. His cry of pain was like a victory anthem and her heart began to beat faster. Her vision tunneled as he staggered back, raising his wand to return fire.
Her body jolted from his strike but she didn't feel the pain, instead, her hand had come up to take hold of the metal lead. A deep battle cry left her chest as she raised the chain. Wand in one hand, chain in the other, she spun—sending the end of the chain around towards his face where it was caught in his remaining hand. Her follow up spell was cut off as he gave a sharp pull, sending her awkwardly down onto her hip and turning her arm at an awkward angle.
"Useless mongrel!" Marxan could feel his body growing colder as blood poured out of his shoulder—still, he wouldn't allow himself to be felled by a mudblood.
With her head ringing from the fall, his words did not enter her ears. The pull on the chain, however, did bring her vision overhead. A quick calculated thought ran through her and dropping her wand she called her dagger free of its sheath and thrust upward. His boot which had been slated to come down directly over her face missed it's mark—pressing her cloak instead into the earth below. Her strike—however—was right on target.
Blood dripped down onto her face, a feral sneer covering her lips as she twisted the blade in her hand. A sick vindication filled her heart as the man over her went still, the flame cursed inside beginning its path from the one place that had brought so many so much pain. She wanted to watch his face contort, to burn away to nothing but it was not to be. His body pitched backward, releasing the dagger from its hold on his groin where he found no more strength to stand. His body swayed dangerously before finally pitching forward directly over top of her. The weight of his frame bruising some of the bones in her ribs from the impact.
Hermione's chest was desperately trying to take in air, her eyes barely seeing through his greasy locks into the starry sky above. Warm blood began to soak her coat, as the man's body shivered—desperately clinging to life. She could hear his slurs pressed hot against her ear but didn't give him the dignity of a response. The chain around her neck pulled harshly against her windpipe, further restricting the air in her chest.
Just when she thought she'd not be able to remain conscious any longer. The weight over her chest was thrown away. Her eyelids fluttered, her vision wobbled and warped. The only thing she could make out were two dark eyes curtained by even darker hair. Her heart eased in her chest and she let her head fall back into their palm.
"Granger?"
"I'm okay..." Her words were soft, hitched and her face pinched from the effort, "Is he...?"
"Very much so..." Severus had been working on disabling the wards protecting their meeting space when the fight had broken out. He knew he'd have tipped Marxan off if he had tried to disable them while the man kept himself hidden in the shadows. So instead he'd flown low over the barrier warning Hermione of the impending double-cross.
A slow smile rolled over her lips before she let her eyes close, "I'm tired..."
"Rest...You've done well..." Severus' own heart was just now returning to his chest, the sight of her covered in blood had brought up rather unpleasant memories from his nightmares. He had thought Marxan had had one more trick, one last stand as it were when he'd collapsed over top of her. He'd run as fast as he could but just like in his dreams he'd not felt fast enough.
"Severus?"
"Yes?"
"We have to find her..." Her world swayed as he began to pull her from the earth below. Her head fell back when he released it to hold her shoulders, a small grunt passing her lips before the chain completely dissolved, "He must...have a safe house or..."
Severus' face pinched. Of course. Of course, she'd want to be the hero, the savior of all. It was an impossible task. They had no way of finding the man's base now that he was dead. He couldn't read the minds of the dead, no one could. Instead of responding to her, he pulled her body up against his own. Like carrying a child, he rested her head over his shoulder, holding her legs over his stomach.
He could have searched Marxan's body, should have really, but with the cup now in their possession, the tides of war were certain to turn. They simply didn't have time to explore the avenue she was suggesting. It was a painful reality, one that was sure to fuel his already tumulus sleep. Yet, it was the decision that had to be made.
oOOo
"Ow!" Ron grabbed at the back of his head, something large and heavy had thumped against it. His eyes immediately turned up toward the brightening sky, looking for any source before shifting his gaze down to the dirt, "Harry? Harry!"
Ron pushed himself up from the log he'd been sitting on to pull the golden cup from the dirt beside him, none the wiser to the dark shadow that disappeared from the nearby tree. Rushing into the tent and startling his friend who had been rudely woken by his exclamation he flicked the cap on his deluminator filling the tent with magical light.
"This is it right? The stupid cup we've been looking for?"
"How did...you?" Harry was rubbing his eyes while blindly looking for his glasses completely bewildered by Ron's words.
"It just came from the sky. I don't know-"
"The sky?"
"Yeah, I was just keeping watch you know? And then bam! Right on my head!"
"And you don't find that suspicious in the slightest?" Harry had managed his glasses now but even without touching the cup he could feel Voldemort's soul lingering inside it.
"I guess maybe..." Ron scratched the small bump on the back of his head, his previous excitement draining from his face, "Is it real...?"
"Yeah...but the better question is...How did it get here?"
oOo
The sun was rising now to a new day. Severus—unable to rest—looked out over the grounds. He could almost taste the danger filling the air, the darkness looming over the forbidden forest. The Dark Lord was moving. Preparing for his final stand. There wasn't much more time for him on this earth, he knew what was to be expected of him—what might happen. He had prepared for it and while he didn't really wish to live beyond this war, something inside him had pushed him to prepare further.
"It's a beautiful sunrise..." Hermione kept her voice soft, having finished with her shower and having stained the tiles red, she had come to seek his care once again. Her throat felt impossibly tight, and she was able to make out distinct bruise patterns over her ribs that would surely need a salve. Even after all this time he still kept his Alchemist cabinet locked. An old habit perhaps, "A new day..."
Severus turned his head to give her his attention, his eyes running over the robe she'd wrapped herself in, "Yes." His jaw twitched when his eyes focused on the dark bruise the chain had left over her throat, the sight of it taking him back months, "Are you in pain?"
"A little...I was going to ask if you could help me put on some salve?" Hermione couldn't stop herself from reaching towards the hand at his side. Her small fingers gently curling into his lax ones.
"Of course..." Severus' hand twitched in hers before pulling free, something about the way she was looking at him was starting to cloud his exhausted mind. He'd taken a potion to help keep him awake and alert while she'd showered but despite its purpose to grant mental clarity he suddenly felt as though he were caught in a trap. He couldn't explain it.
Hermione pressed her lips between her teeth, curling her hand up to her chest. Her face furrowed with concern, "I...I had to...You know...he was..."
Severus' own brow furrowed to her sudden stammering, his back to her as he released the wards on his cabinet, "I know. You do not need to explain yourself to me."
Hermione licked her lips and swallowed down the lump in her throat, "I...I killed him..."
"You had no choice." Severus turned as he spoke, his intense gaze catching her own. It was then he realized that his action, his removal of his hand from hers, had sparked something vulnerable inside her, "You are still a good person...A just person..."
"Yeah?" Hermione's gaze shifted to his hands subconsciously, "Then why do I feel like I've become just like him?"
Severus pursed his lips, "You are not—and will never be anything—like him."
Hermione's face pinched, tears coming to the corners of her eyes, "It hurts...I mean...I've killed others...but...not this way..." Her hand moved over her heart, "It felt...so good...so...right...Like...I had waited my entire life to see the light drain from his eyes..."
A slow breath left his chest, he knew the feeling of what she spoke, his body count was much higher than her own, his soul more fractured than hers could ever be, "It'll pass..."
A small nod brought her curls around her chin, her eyes dropping towards the floor, "I...I just..." Her words trailed off when his hands came to her shoulders, his fingers raising her chin, her eyes falling into his own, "You understand...don't you?"
"I do..." His fingers traced over her cheek brushing away a stray tear, why did it hurt so much to see her this way? "Come..."
His hand opened to hers and when it fell inside a new feeling began to grow inside his chest. Like his soul was calling out to her, like the spirits of the world were whispering in his ear. It was as though everything he had ever longed for had been found, like the cracks in his soul were being filled.
No logic could ever explain it, no words could ever define the change he felt between them. How his view of the woman before him had changed from an ignorant child to a world-wise woman. How it felt to actually see her, all of her in that instant.
His steps were slow but guiding as he led her to stand beside the bed. The tears that had expressed her sorrow now made her eyes shine. How they looked at him so trustingly, so completely understanding of all he'd gone through. How she could accept everything he was and everything that they had become. His own eyes softened, the narrow lines that had held his pain, relaxing away; revealing the man he truly was.
Hermione herself was not unaware of the change. Her body hummed with an energy she could never define and when his hand left hers she was not left in fear of what he thought of her. Rather, a completeness filled her heart. Her lips opened but nothing but a silent breath passed, her tongue unwilling to soil the moment.
Her lashes fluttered when his fingers brushed against her bruised throat and she tilted her head back to his silent request. Her heart fluttered as the salve dulled the pain allowing her senses to fully appreciate the feeling. Her own hands rested at her sides, lax and unafraid of his touch. No lingering memory to rip away her peace. There was only him and she.
Severus allowed himself to be led by another, by the voice inside his heart. His own eyes lidded when his large fingers traced the neck of her robe. Her skin brushing along the back of his knuckles creating an almost undiscernable spark. Her hands released the tie, and with it his fingers traced along her delicate collarbone.
Hermione's breath hitched when his fingers continued down along her sternum, the small bruises brushed away by the lingering salve in his fingertips. She could feel her head growing light but miraculously found the strength to remain standing before him. When she managed to open her eyes she watched the path he took around her breasts to the dark marks around her ribs. A deep sighing moan escaped when he worked the medicine into place.
"Please..." She wasn't entirely sure what she was asking for but her hands did and thus, reached down to take his wrists, raising them up. A small gasp parted her lips and raised her eyes and as she flattened her hands over his, the small space between them was taken.
Neither one knew who closed the distance, neither one of them cared enough to examine it. Their kiss was heartbreakingly powerful. Enough to heal even the most weathered soul.
Hermione's hands rose to his shoulders, wrapping around tightly. Her breath came out slow through her nose but her heart was racing. She was sure he could feel it but there was nothing to be done. His hands had moved behind her now, cradling her head and supporting her back.
No warning bells were sounding off inside Severus' mind, all logical thought, all supercilious barriers, emotional walls, silenced by his soul's cry. His hands and body moved on their own, keeping their kiss as he laid her out beneath him. Their kiss shifted then, each one opening their lips to taste the other. It wasn't a battle nor reach for dominance; rather a dance of equals stepping in turn.
Hands that had been holding the pieces of the others shattered soul began to shift. Each one searching for a way to take the pieces they held and make them whole. A small shift and taken breath brought the both of them fully onto the bed.
Hermione felt no fear under the man over her now, rather she felt protected from the world's crimes. A small peice of heaven come to earth. Her fingers left his hair to deftly remove the buttons from their catch on his white shirt, her lips coming to pay homage to each slip of pale skin she revealed. She reveled in the deep rumbling sigh that filled the space between them before laying herself back to push the garment from his shoulders.
Her eyes fluttered up as he helped her endeavor almost expecting a refusal, a denial of their obvious desires. Yet, nothing on his face told her to stop. She could feel the pounding of his heart through the scar over his chest where her fingertips rested. She could believe in that moment that it beat for her.
Severus let his shirt carelessly fall away. His eyes searching for fear in her own. Yet there was nothing but complete acceptance and desire. Keeping his weight on his knees he leaned forward, letting his hands raise her up towards him. Her lips claimed him again and together they pulled away the robe shielding her from him.
A warmth like none other was quickly growing between them. Something even the coldest winters could never touch. Hermione was sure the source of their inferno laid much lower than where their hands were presently exploring.
A deep whine filled the room as she arched back over his arm, his lips having left her own to lavish attention over her chest. She had wanted to ask him, inquire really, about the greyish mark that laid between them but at present, she hadn't the mind to do so. The scar she'd received from the DoM seemed to be more sensitive now. The small wisps of his silk-like hair sending quivering shivers all the way to her core.
Like before, Severus made sure that the woman in his arms received the most pleasure he could possibly give. Even when her slim fingers dipped into the waist of his slacks he paid little attention to his own needs. Choosing instead to elicit the most beautiful sounds he possibly could. Laying her back down was an easy task, her body having grown heavy from his ministrations. The final layer between him and her was easily removed with a silent spell.
Her fingers retreated from their previous task to twine into his hair, the smell, the taste, the feel of her on his tongue blocking out nearly everything else in his mind. There was nothing to compare her to, she was something all her own. Something that could never find an equal. Her body responded instantly to his ministrations and when he felt her body tense he knew it wasn't from fear.
Hermione's world was spinning in an array of sensations. The pressure of his chest against her legs, the feel of back muscle under her heel. She wondered idly if she was hurting him but her body was simply out of her control. His prowess and skill pulling from her noises and positions she'd never believed herself capable. When her world exploded, she found not exhaustion but a renewed sense of power. An energy to push her onward.
Her face held an uncertain brow but even as he raised himself up to her guiding hand, she could feel a new light growing inside her. A sharp kiss brought her own taste to her tongue, filling her senses. Her hands that had been clawing at his arms rose up, pressing, guiding. When he relented, she found herself sitting over his waist, her pulsing core vibrating against his tense stomach.
Her eyes deep and dark as the most isolated ocean she leaned over him hiding them away inside her hair. Their lashes brushed as she pressed her forward against his own, her lips moving against his as they gasped for breath. His hands came up then, running along her back and to her waist. Her lips that had hovered over his, waiting for him to stop all that they were doing moved lower.
Gliding along his jaw, his throat, his chest. She could feel the moans and soft sighs she was able to pull free. He wasn't as vocal as she, but every sound that graced her ears was a victory inside her heart. Her body trembled with anticipation, her hands which had been so sure fluttered over his waist before dipping lower into the band of his slacks.
A small look up into his face, a look into his heavily lidded eyes told her that whatever had held him back before was no longer present. Her fingers made quick work of the belt locking her prize away before she finally had a mind to simply spell them away.
He was bare before her now and it was a glorious sight to behold. Like seeing the most magnificent sunrise, the most beautiful sculpture. Her eyes couldn't see the scars that marred his flesh, only the man perfectly lain before her.
When she took hold of him, her own heart skipped. Was she truly ready? Another look to his face told her that she was in complete control. That he would do nothing to see to her harm. That he was, as she had been, completely under her ministrations. With that silent reassurance, she lowered herself down taking her first taste of ambrosia.
Severus' body tensed to the heat she brought with, his mind spiraling deeply into an abyss. It was by will alone that he kept his eyes open, wanting to remind himself that this was real, that this wasn't some twisted nightmare.
The sun that had begun to filter into the room gave her body an angelic glow. Her hair, her skin, shining like heavens light and when she brought herself up, his eyes followed the path of the sun over her chest. Just like she, he could not see any scars over her form. Rather, a beautiful glowing aura surrounded her. His hand rose when she reached out to him, twining his fingers tightly in her own.
His release was long drawn, his body rocking. His eyes rolled back into his head as he finally allowed himself the pleasure he had been denying himself so long. It was in this moment of post-coital bliss that he felt her coming closer. The heat between her legs leaving his own, his eyes opened to her silent question and with barely a thought he nodded his head.
Hermione had never tasted another's soul before, but she was sure she had at that moment, Despite the action having taken a rather derogatory place inside her mind nothing of what she did now compared in the slightest. This was something new, something pure and whole. Something that she had been denied all those months ago.
When she took him completely, she was sure she'd finally understood why he had denied her. Why he had sought to her needs over her wants. Why he had pushed her, guided her, rebuilt her in the way that he had. How he had given her the strength to live another day.
"Severus..."
"Hermione..."
Arms entwined as their bodies became one. The subtle rhythm of their actions bringing more pleasure than either of them had had in their lifetime. It was slow, it was painful, it was glorious. It was everything they had been missing. It was without words.
Hermione held onto her new lover as her body rocked in time with his, her whimpers of pleasure filling his ear as she pressed her lips against it. His hand dove into her hair holding her in place while her own sought to keep them from leaving earth. The first climb to the peek was slow, like a rollover a large hill. The type that makes your stomach flip when you fall over the crest.
Another shift, a new position to claim their stake in the world around them. Hermione's head pressed back into the sheets below while her heels sought to bring him deeper inside. To fill her in ways no other had been able to do.