A/N: While nervous, I'm so excited to hear your thoughts on this chapter!

Chapter Forty

The room was silent after Potter's pronouncement. Severus uncrossed his arms, gripping the edge of the desk for support. "What did you say?"

Potter turned to him with an obnoxiously smug look on his face. "Walden MacNair was killed during an attempted arrest last night. He was too drunk to hold his own in a fight, and too arrogant to stand down. A stunner sent him out the second story window head first; a nasty sight, but I'm not particularly broken up about it."

So this was it; MacNair was dead. It was finally over. This was... he swallowed and looked away, a hand over his mouth. Was this really the end?

He glanced over at Hermione, who was staring at him with a shocked expression on her face. They had waited for this day, itching for the opportunity to leave this house and exist without threat. To hear that that day had finally come... If Potter weren't here, he'd be embracing Hermione himself.

"Harry," Hermione said quietly as she turned back to her friend, "you're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," he chuckled. "I was a part of the team that went to arrest him."

Minerva asked, "So you weren't in Hogsmeade last night?"

"No," he replied. "I spend most of the evening flying over beaches in Sunderland."

"Why there?" Severus asked, racking his brains for a reason for that location.

"That's where our informant directed us."

An informant. That's right; Minerva had said the ministry was tipped off. "Who?" Severus asked. "Who is this informant?"

"I actually need to talk to you about that as well," Potter told him. "He has a Dark Mark, but he claims he wasn't around for the second part of the war."

Severus focused intently on not showing any outward signs of annoyance. "A name would help."

"Carden Vayne."

He glanced over at Minerva, who was looking at him for any reaction to the name. "I have no idea who that is."

"Well, he knew all about you," said Potter, sounding surprised. "Knew you were being hunted and everything."

"Most of the information on me is public knowledge thanks to you, Potter."

"You wouldn't mind so much if you saw how good of a final blow it was to Riddle's ego."

Severus snorted, for once finding amusement in Potter's cockiness. "Probably not," he muttered, rubbing his neck as he considered who this Carden Vayne was and why they took an interest in him. "You said he was marked?" At his assent, he asked, "And you're sure?"

Potter frowned. "Well it isn't something most people would lie about, but yes, I'm sure. He showed us all in the interrogation."

Minerva asked, "Would Lucius know?"

"He very well might," Severus responded. "He had been in the ranks for a year or two already by the time I joined."

"I'll let Kingsley know," Potter said. "He might ask you to talk to him again, once you're cleared to leave."

Severus looked again at Hermione at that reminder. She was staring blankly into the fireplace, and he so badly wished to use legilimency so that he could know what she was thinking. It was no surprise she wasn't jumping for joy after everything they had heard, but still, her empty stare was concerning.

"Hermione," he said softly, and she jumped. Her eyes were wide when they met his, yet still alarmingly vacant. She was quite obviously occluding, and he frowned at that realization. "Are you all right?"

She nodded quickly. "Yes, yes, I'm fine," she said tightly, attempting a forced smile; it did nothing to convince him.

"Are you-"

Hermione stood quickly and hurried to the doorway. "I'm sorry," she said, "I just need a minute."

Severus pushed himself off the desk at the same time Potter stood. They stared at each other in confusion as the back door opened and banged closed.

"I'll just-"

"I should-"

Severus glared at the boy as they both made their way towards the hall. "This is still my home, Potter, and I-"

"She's my friend, I should be-"

"And I'm not her friend?"

"I've been friends with her for eight years! You've only been-"

"What does the length of our friendship have anything to do with-"

"Neither of you are going anywhere!" Minerva snapped, standing from her seat. "Hermione asked for a minute of peace to clear her head, and I'll not have either of you going out there to muddy it back up!" She snapped her fingers as she pointed to the couch. "Now sit back down, the both of you!

"And don't you dare argue with me, Severus!" she snapped as he opened his mouth. Scowling, he followed Potter back to their seats- he wasn't about to share a couch with the boy, so he sank into his desk chair instead.

Crossing his arms, he asked, "And what shall we do while we wait?"

With a sigh, Minerva looked over at Potter. "Tell us everything you know about this Carden Vayne."

The back door slammed shut behind her, and with it her shield crumbled. As the cold seeped through her clothes the tears she had been holding in began to fall freely. Collapsing in a ball on the icy ground, she sobbed silently into her arm, not even sure which of her tumultuous emotions were more to blame for her lack of control.

Her stomach hadn't unclenched since she had heard of Ron's injuries. Oh gods, what if he had contracted lycanthropy? It wouldn't change the way she cared for him- knowing Remus had broken many of the negative stereotypes in her eyes- but the ramifications of such a disease were life changing, and never in a good way. There was no way he'd be allowed to stay on as an Auror. Not even his war fame could save him from that. And Claire- what would she think?

And the transformations; Hermione's gut twisted at the thought. They were horribly painful, and he would lose his mind without the potion. Would Severus agree to brew it for him? Surely he'd do it for her kindness if nothing else, right? But he had explained to Kingsley how difficult the ingredients were to find- would he be able to afford it? Even if Ron could pay for it- and without his job as an Auror there was no guarantee he would be able to for long- the potion took so much effort, his other orders would suffer. He wouldn't be able to keep up with it all, especially once she went back to Hogwarts and was no longer assisting him.

She squeezed her eyes shut at that thought. Going back was not what she wanted to think about right now. She hated the fact that everything that had happened to Ron and the village of Hogsmeade was diminished even slightly by her selfish feelings. Because she didn't want to go back to Hogwarts. She didn't want to leave Severus, to return to a relationship through letters. She wanted to stay, especially after last night, when they had come so close to taking that next step-

But those were selfish thoughts, and she forced them back as she wiped at her eyes.

She stared out across the garden and wished that Crookshanks wasn't snuggled up in her quilt upstairs. She could use his comforting presence right about now.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, but she wasn't even aware that she was shivering until a warm cloak draped itself over her shoulders. Looking up, she watched as Severus knelt in front of her.

His eyes searched hers, concern written in each line of his face. He wore his frock coat, and she realized belatedly that she had once again run out into the cold garden without any semblance of a jacket. Her eyes focused on his row of buttons, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. "You're freezing," he said softly, touching her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

She just shrugged. "I barely felt it."

"You never seem to." She looked up then, and caught his slight smirk. It faded quickly back into concern and he asked, "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing good," she mumbled as she wiped her eyes.

Severus looked away for a moment, aiming his wand at the lantern at the back door and illuminating the garden. She blinked in the sudden light, and couldn't hold back her surprised expression as he sat next to her. "One day we'll have to meet like this when the sun is up," he quipped, and she snorted softly.

He remained silent, watching her as she pulled his cloak tighter around her shoulders. A minute or two passed, and Hermione scooted closer to him, putting her head against his shoulder. When his arm wrapped around her back, she let out a shaky breath.

"Why is it," she asked him, "that whenever we get a win, it comes with a loss?"

He sighed, rubbing her arm absentmindedly. "That, unfortunately, is a question I've been asking myself for a long time." His arm paused as he added, "You can go to him, if you'd like."

"Who- Ron? Now?" She looked behind her, towards the house. "But Harry-"

He shook his head. "It's just us."

"No, I mean he said only family- wait, they left?" Hermione asked, surprised that Harry, at least, didn't come to say goodbye.

He must have known what she was thinking because he said, "Minerva was insistent- she practically dragged Potter by his ear when she declared it time to go."

"But... why?"

He reached over, tucking a curl behind her ear. "To give us some privacy, I'd imagine."

She grabbed his hand, placing it against her cheek as she closed her eyes. Through everything she was feeling, she couldn't help but feel eternally grateful that he was by her side. His mere presence gave her comfort, and his touch reminded her that she was not alone.

The support he was giving her simply by joining her outside in the cold, by sitting by her side and touching her, sent her over the edge once more. Silent tears began rolling down her cheeks despite her trying to hold them back, and when Severus pulled her into an embrace, she wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder.

One hand moved up and down her back as he held her, the other cradling her head as his fingers wove through her hair. He was murmuring consoling words to her, but she was so deep into her emotions that she didn't comprehend any of what he said. The only thing she took in was how comforting his arms were, how his hands calmed her, how his voice soothed her. It wasn't long that the only thing left in her was the occasional hiccup.

Severus shifted, and she found herself being lifted up off the ground. She picked her head up quickly. "What are you doing?"

"You're shivering so hard my teeth are chattering," he told her with a pointed look, and she looked away sheepishly.

"Oh." Pulling herself into a tighter ball so that he could get through the doorway easier, she added, "Sorry about that. And for crying all over you. Again."

He carried her into the living room and set her on the couch where, she noticed with a twinge in her heart, he had set out her pillow and charmed blanket. She stared at him in surprise as he stood and draped the blanket over her shoulders. "I apologize for going up to your rooms uninvited," he told her as he turned to stoke the fire. "I had assumed you ran out without the proper attire again, and that I'd find you frozen in place somewhere acting as a new lawn ornament." Turning back to her, he said with a smirk, "I was half expecting to have to dethaw you."

She blushed a bit as he walked over to the drinks table. "I'm sorry I keep doing that."

He shrugged, pouring two glasses of firewhiskey. "It isn't my body constantly at risk of hypothermia."

Snorting softly, she pulled the blanket tighter around her. "One would think I'd learn."

"One would hope you'd learn," he countered as he handed her a glass. With a quiet thanks, she sipped at the liquor and instantly felt a warm blush rising in her cheeks.

He sat next to her, as he often did when they were alone. He took a drink, set his glass down on the end table, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders again. "Will you tell me what you're thinking now?" he asked her as she leaned into his side.

"You can guess the gist of it, I'm sure." She sipped the drink again, then stared into the glass as she answered, "I'm scared to death for Ron. I can't imagine the fear he's feeling, facing this sort of possibility. I want so badly to be able to go to him, to tell him it'll all be all right... but who am I to say that to him? We all know that there's a chance that it could happen."

"The odds are low, Hermione."

"But not zero!" Pausing to drink once more from her glass, she continued, "I know what the odds are, and I hope you're right; I hope I have no right to be this worried, I really do. But until the next full moon we'll all be watching, waiting, and he'll know- he'll feel all our eyes on him no matter what, and it'll chaffe because he'll be waiting too, waiting to find out what his future holds.

"And I think it's safe to say his career as an auror is finished," she continued, waving her hand around as she spoke. "It isn't like they're going to let him stay on with that possibility, is there? And depending on the damage to his arm- I don't even know which arm it was, it could be his damn wand arm- he may not even be able to do the job anyway. Thank goodness for George and the shop, because I can't imagine his brother holding his injury and possible illness against him. I'm sure he'll offer him a job, he's already helping out there anyway."

She took another sip, a long one this time. Coughing slightly, she added, "And all of that is swimming in my head right alongside the fact that I was streets away from where it happened! I don't suppose I'd be in any better position to fight the werewolf than him, but to know that it happened so close to me and I had no idea... I can't get it out of my head that he was in Hogsmeade, and I was hiding away.

"And no, I won't yell at you for that again," she said as she pulled away from her glass, "because frankly I'm quite glad that I wasn't out there now. I'll still always wonder if I could have done anything to help, but logically I know that I could have done very little."

When she raised her glass again, Severus reached up and took it from her. "Slow down," he chided as he set her much emptier glass next to his barely touched one.

As if he hadn't spoken, she continued her rant. "And then! To find out MacNair was found and arrested- that our isolation can end- I should be happy! Elated, even! But all I can think about is how I'm dreading going back to Hogwarts now, how I'd actually be fine if nothing changed because at least I wouldn't have to leave. I'm not ready to leave. I don't want to go."

The firewhiskey was well in her head now, and she didn't notice Severus' wide eyed expression at her admission. They sat in silence, each one trapped in their thoughts as they listened to the fire crackling and popping in front of them. "We were so close, Severus," she whispered, looking up at him with eyes brimming with yet more tears. "Do you feel the same frustration I feel knowing that we were so close, and now we might be even farther from it than we were before New Years?"

Severus cupped her face in his hands, searching her eyes. She wondered what he looked for- her sincerity? Her sobriety? "Yes," he said, his voice so soft and low that she closed her eyes briefly to the words. "I do. I very, very much feel the same."

He kissed her then, and she moaned, and even in her lightheaded state she felt foolish for doing so; but his kiss went straight to her core, and nothing- not the blanket, not the fire, not the whiskey still on her tongue- warmed her as much as his lips on hers.

That warmth was lost the moment he pulled away.

She looked at him questioningly, her lips pulled in a pout. "Severus?" she asked, unsure of why he had broken the kiss. "What's wrong?"

His eyes were deep, so impossibly deep, when he said hoarsely, "I cannot in good consciousness do this tonight."

She sat up straight, suddenly indignant. "Why not?!"

Annoyed when he reached out to her, she slapped his hand away. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "You're under the influence," he told her. "We're both exhausted. I haven't slept for well over twenty four hours. And your emotional state..."

"What about my emotional state?"

"I don't..." Running a hand through his hair, he looked at her in a way that begged understanding. "I don't want our first time to be marred by anything, and after what we've learned tonight... I can't, Hermione. I'm sorry."

She wasn't so far gone that she couldn't feel embarrassed. She was also coherent enough to know that he was right. That didn't stop her from feeling like a fool. She reached past him, picked up her cup, and drained it.

"Where are you going?" he asked as she stood.

She picked up her blanket and her pillow. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Severus."

Severus blinked at her retreating form. "Sleep well," he murmured after her, and got no reply. Not that he was expecting one.

He settled back into the couch with a sigh, picking up his glass and draining it in one. Resting his head on the back of the couch, he rubbed his eyes and tried to ignore the desires of his physical body.

Denying her was one of the hardest things he'd done to date, and even now he fought the urge to drag his exhausted body up those steps and take her on the damn floor. But just the thought of walking to his bed about did him in. Looking down the length of the couch, he considered just stretching out here, but his more primal urges led him to choose privacy over convenience.

Did he even have energy for that tonight? The thought followed him as he forced himself up off the couch and down the hall. He was still considering as he unbuttoned his frock coat, because despite his exhaustion the desire he had felt earlier at Hermione's very clear intentions would not give way.

Sitting on his bed, he slipped first one and then the other shoe off his feet, pausing before removing his socks. If he bent over, would he have the energy to straighten back up? A foolish question maybe, but he was that exhausted.

Which made the erection all the more impressive.

Giving it up as a lost cause, Severus threw himself backwards on his bed and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, the sun was shining through his window. So I did not have the energy after all, he thought to himself as he rolled onto his side, noting with some amusement that his problem hadn't exactly gone away just because he was unconscious for several hours. Groaning, he forced himself into a sitting position, a long shower in mind- whether hot or cold, he had yet to decide.

He entered the hallway to the sounds of conversation filtering in from the living room. It paused when he closed his door, and he heard the familiar voice of the Headmistress call out, "Severus?"

Grimacing, he rubbed his eyes. Cold it is, then. "Who else would it be?"

He heard a tsk and could picture the affronted expression crossing the matron's face perfectly in his mind. "I know very well it's you, ya eejit."

"Good morning, Severus!" called Hermione before he could snap back. "There's tea in the kitchen if you'd like."

"Perhaps after a shower," he replied, continuing to the bathroom. Shutting the door behind him, he took a minute to process the fact that Minerva was here again. When she had told him she'd return, he hadn't expected her to have shown up quite so early.

Unless it wasn't early. What time was it, anyway? Casting a Tempus, he blinked surprisingly as he realized that it was quite a bit later than he realized. It was damn near lunch time already- how hard had he been sleeping?

In an effort to waste no more time, he quickly turned the shower taps and stepped under the icy water with a stiffled yelp.

When he entered the living room, his hair still damp, Minerva looked him over with a smirk. "Have a nice lie-in?"

Narrowing his eyes at her cheek, he sat heavily onto the couch next to Hermione, who looked at him in surprise. "Am I not allowed to sit on my own furniture?" he asked in an affronted manner, causing Hermione to shake her head quickly.

"Of course you are! I'm just not used to you sitting by me when we have guests."

"Does it make you uncomfortable?"

She frowned and shoved his shoulder lightly. "You know it doesn't. You just took me by surprise, is all."

"I won't be long, anyway. Your late start to the day delayed this long enough," Minerva said with a pointed look in his direction.

While initially wishing to argue, he found he lacked the energy to do so. Wearily, he waved his hand in her direction, signaling her to speak.

Minerva's eyebrows raised at his dismissiveness, but she nonetheless said, "I've come to discuss Hermione's return to Hogwarts. Seeing as it's mid-week, I don't expect actual resumption of classes until Monday, however we need to discuss when and how you will be returning."

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Hermione's hands tie themselves together in knots again. He couldn't see from his vantage point, but he would bet anything her lip was in between her teeth right now, the poor thing. Reaching out, he placed a hand on her shoulder and when she jumped, he squeezed supportively. "This was always the plan," he reminded her, though their conversation last night echoed strongly in his mind. He could tell by the way she looked over that her thoughts were the same. "You can return for the Easter holidays, if you'd like."

"I hadn't thought that far ahead," she said quietly, looking down at her hands. "When do I need to make a decision?"

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Minerva said gently. "There isn't much of a decision to be made. You need to return no later than tomorrow morning."

"But-" Hermione looked up at her Headmistress. "If I'm not starting classes until next week, why do I need to return so soon?"

Severus watched as his former colleague rubbed her eyes. "You are legally of age, so you don't need a guardian," she started. "However, as a student of Hogwarts, your wellbeing is our responsibility. At the time of your quarantine in November, Hogwarts was not safe, however that is no longer the case. I'm afraid that I must require your return to the castle, if only because of liability."

"But why so soon? Why can't it wait until the weekend?"

"I imagine," muttered Severus, "that the board takes issue with the risk your current residency poses."

"Yes," Minerva agreed unhappily, "They saw fit to send me a letter just this morning about it. The attack leaves Hogsmeade vulnerable, and they believe the threat to Hogwarts has been resolved."

Severus snorted and shook his head. "That school has been under threat for nearly a decade."

Hermione slumped further into the couch. "It's ridiculous, really. They've never seemed to care before."

"I agree," the older woman said, "however I am not at liberty to oppose their decision. I am sorry."

"Then I choose the morning," she said quickly.

With a glance at him, the Headmistress nodded. "Very well. I shall see you then."

After McGonagall's departure, Hermione sat silently by Severus' side. She stared forlornly into the fireplace, the crackling logs breaking the silence between them. She wanted him to say something; she wanted to say something. But what was there to say?

He was right- this was always the plan. And she had wanted that, in the begining at least. How was it that the castle that had once felt so much like a home to her felt more like a prison than the tiny house she had barely left in over two months? Why did she feel so much reluctance to return?

She knew the answer of course. She didn't want to leave Severus. But the level of grief she felt at this particular departure felt... excessive. She should not be on the verge of tears because of this, surely. Yet here she sat, her chest impossibly tight as she tried to maintain her composure enough to leave the room.

"Hermione?"

Shite. Of course he would notice she was in distress. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she wiped preemptively at her eyes and said hoarsly, "I need to prepare the lab."

"Hermione, wait." Her exit was delayed by his hand on her wrist, and she tilted her head so her hair would block her face- a tactic she knew he'd recognize. "I know this seems abrupt, but-"

"I know," she interrupted him, forcing the words past a tight throat. "This was the plan."

"That's... not what I was going to say."

Curious, she peeked at him through her curls. His hand was still wrapped around her wrist, and he was studying what bit of face he could see. "I'm listening."

"But, I may have found a way to make it easier."

He pulled her back to the couch next to him, and she let him, but sat stiffly and stared at her hands. "Minerva was right about one thing in particular," he started. "You are of age and have no need for a guardian. Should you be caught doing something you shouldn't, who is she going to write to? What can she do to really impact your life?"

"I suppose she could expell me," Hermione answered, curious despite her reservations.

"But would she? She seems to be only requiring this out of necessity. I'm certain she would turn a blind eye."

"A blind eye to what, exactly?" she asked, staring blankly into the fireplace.

"Come back on the weekends."

That got her to look at him.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of breaking the rules now," he smirked.

"I-" Shaking her head, she started again. "You want me to walk out the castle doors Saturday morning?"

"I was thinking Friday evening, but Saturday is fine, too."

"And what am I supposed to tell Ginny? Is she supposed to cover for me while I'm gone?"

"Do you think she could?"

She took in his relaxed posture, the mischevious glint in his eye. "She would, but that isn't the same."

He crossed his legs and draped an arm across the back of the couch. "Does Minerva make it a habit of breathing down her lion cubs' necks on the weekends? I doubt she'll even notice- not for a few weeks, at least."

"And you're sure I won't be expelled? Because the last I heard, leaving the castle on one's own accord is-"

"Minerva won't care, I promise you." He reached out and tucked a curl behind her ear, causing a whirlwind of emotions to flutter through her and leave her faintly dizzy. "And if she does care, she'll blame me."

"As well she should," Hermione said with a smile. Searching his expression once more, her smile grew into a full blown grin. "What a very Slytherin solution."

"Do your borish Gryffindor ideals chaffe at such an idea?"

Leaning more comfortably into the couch, she crossed her arms in contemplation. "Well, I've certainly done worse things," she concluded after a few moments of thought. "But..."

She hesitated.

Severus leaned forward, meeting her eyes once more. "But...?"

Glancing his way, she sighed and leaned into him. "This... helps. But I still don't want to go."

His arm wrapped around her shoulders, he exhaled and kissed the top of her head. "I don't want you to go either."

It was after dinner, and Hermione had gone upstairs to pack. Severus had offered to help, but she declined his assistance, claiming to want some time to think; he hovered at the bottom of the stairs for quite a while before giving it up and sulking in the living room. Firewhiskey in hand, he stared into the fire lost in his thoughts.

The last few days had been emotionally draining, and he was left feeling quite weary from it all. His mind couldn't decide between relief that their isolation had ended and stress at what was to come. Was it truly over? In his experience, every time it felt that way, more always followed. What else would crop up to mess with his goal for a peaceful life? Could it be that his most difficult future lay with the fact that Hermione would be back at Hogwarts for another five months? Even weekend visits couldn't make up for the fact that he would miss her terribly. And he knew logically that she would not come to him every weekend, with her NEWTs looming in the near future.

It wasn't as if he had nothing to do to keep his mind off of it. Without her help, he would have to reconsider his workload. Perhaps she would be willing to brew some of the Hospital Wing potions with Poppy. It was definitely something to consider... I should probably start paying her for her contributions, he thought absentmindedly as he considered which potions she could handle away from his critical supervision.

A short while later, Hermione returned to the living room. She stood near the doorway, arms crossed tightly against her chest, and her eyes were red- she had been crying. His eyes narrowed in concern as he stood from the couch.

"I'm all packed," she said tightly. "Ready to go... first thing in the morning."

He nodded, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

"And..." She took a step closer. "I've come to a decision."

He couldn't read the intentions on her face since she refused to meet his eyes, but the nervousness her body was displaying had him expecting the worst. It didn't bode well that she was struggling to elaborate, even as she moved closer. He reached out, grasping her arms in what he hoped was a supportive gesture. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Hermione took a deep breath, bit her lip, and smirked slightly. Briefly looking down at his chest, her eyes traveled slowly up to his as she said, "I've decided... that I'm not leaving this house until we finish what we've started."

His hands tightened around her biceps as his eyebrows rose. "Started... what?" he asked, knowing exactly what she meant but needing to hear it.

Instead of answering, she stared at his lips before leaning forward and covering them with her own.

His breath hitched as he pulled her close, his hands moving to the back of her head and down her spine. Her nervousness, her smirk, it all made sense now as her fingers tangled in his hair and gripped his shirt tightly. Her lips opened, deepening the kiss, and he dove into it gladly as he slid his hand under her blouse. Feeling her shudder against his touch sent his urges reeling, and he pulled harshly back from her and cupped her head in his hands. "You're sure?" he asked her, searching her face. "Now?"

"Now, Severus," she confirmed before grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pulling him into another fervent kiss.

He didn't need to be told twice. Holding her tightly against him, he lifted her off the floor and began walking down the hall, never once separating his mouth from hers. Hermione's legs wrapped around his hips, and he gained purchase on her arse as he magically forced his bedroom door open, kicking it closed behind him.

Her hands fumbled with his buttons even as her feet returned to the ground, and he waved his hand over them- they popped open at once, and Hermione's fingers were like fire as they trailed over his flesh. Tearing the shirt from his arms, he threw the wadded garment to the floor and pulled at the back of her blouse. She separated from him just long enough to allow him to remove it before pushing their torsos together- it was only then that Severus realized she hadn't been wearing a bra.

"You weren't going to accept another denial, were you?" he asked as he trailed kisses up her neck.

She gasped as he nibbled her earlobe, before breathing out, "I had backup plans."

"And what would those have entailed?"

"Well for one," she said as she unbuttoned his trousers, "I was going to put on a thinner shirt."

"Mmm..." Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the mental image that entailed. "You'll have to save that one for later."

Her hand found his bulge and stroked him through his underwear. "Less talking, more undressing."

Point made, he pulled her against him and kissed her deeply before fully removing his trousers. Letting them fall, he stepped out of the legs and reached for her jeans. As he slid them down her legs, he looked curiously at what lay below. "Huh."

"What?"

He smirked at her defensiveness. "With the lack of bra, I had wondered if your jeans held a similar surprise." His hands trailed over her hips and down her arse, enjoying the texture of the tight lace panties against his skin.

"Disappointed?" she asked with a grin, and he nipped her lip before pushing her towards the bed.

"I prefer to unwrap my presents," he said as he laid her back against the bedclothes, crawling over her.

He paused then, taking in the image of this beautiful woman laying under him, her riotous curls splayed across his pillow. Her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen, he watched as her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths of anticipation. She looked up at him with such an open expression of love that his chest ached with his own overwhelming adoration for her. "You are perfection," he whispered, watching as a redness spread across her cheeks at his words. Giving her no chance to respond, he leaned down and captured her lips once more.

Hermione had never been so pleased with herself.

As she lay under the man she loved and lost herself in his kisses, she could scarcely believe that this was finally happening. It had all seemed hopeless earlier today, with her going back to Hogwarts. It felt like they had missed their chance, and as she watched the clock in her room tick down the final hours of her stay here, her regret grew. It was she, after all, who had declared that they would take it slow, and it was her now that couldn't stand the thought of leaving here with that looming over her head. She wanted him, so badly it left a physical ache, and she knew he wanted her as well. And after the recent emotionally draining events, she was completely over "taking it slow." Decision made, she approached Severus with one goal in mind- the morning was not going to come before she did.

Her daring boldness had certainly paid off, judging by the rapid progression of events since she had entered the living room. She hadn't looked away from him this entire time; she could not describe a single identifying thing about his room beyond the softness of the blanket below her.

But she could describe the feel of his lips on hers- could describe the way his scars shone off of his skin, could recount the feeling of his fingers grazing across her flesh. The way his tongue sought hers, the taste and smell and feel of him filling her senses, truly blinding her beyond anything that wasn't wholly and wonderfully him.

His mouth moved to trail kisses down her neck. It continued across her shoulder and down to her breast where his tongue lavished her nipple, causing a jolt to flash through her and her breathing to catch. She felt his chuckle against her skin, the wetness he had left cooling rapidly in his expelled breath and causing her to twitch in response. "Like that?" he asked her teasingly, and blew gently against the nipple once more.

"Those are... very sensitive," she hissed as his deft fingers gave attention to the other breast. He lifted his chin just enough to smirk up at her.

"I'll have to remember that," he promised before trailing delicate kisses down her torso. He paused when he reached her panties, and lifted his eyes to her in a silent question. She was happy he appreciated them; they took a long time and a good bit of transfiguration to get just right. At the moment, however, she was rather looking forward to discarding them.

Raising her hips, she allowed him to slide the panties off of her legs. He trailed his hands back up her calves and over her knees, stopping to part them before continuing up her inner thigh. His fingers burned; she was melting under his attentions, as he left tantalizing lines of heat on his journey closer to her core. "Perfection," he repeated as his touches crept up her hips. Stretching up and over her, he kissed her firmly at the same time he trailed his fingers down her stomach and into her folds.

Hermione tensed for a moment, deepening the kiss as his thumb played with her clit, sending mini electric shocks pulsing through her. She moaned, biting her lip as he turned his attention to her throat, nipping as he went. When he pushed a finger inside her, she arched up into him. "Severus..." She said his name in a whisper, a mere expelled breath as she gripped his shoulders. She needed more of him; she just didn't have the words.

At the sound of his name, Severus picked his head up and looked down at her, his fingers never stopping their teases. He scrutinized her face, understanding in an instant, and slid another finger in as his lips returned to hers, devouring her pleasurable groan as he worked to bring her to completion. Forget melting; she was on fire. It wasn't long before she was tightening against his fingers, and she fell apart for him shortly after, ripping her mouth from his as she cried out and dug her nails into his shoulderblades.

When his hand stilled, she opened her eyes- when had she closed them?- and stared into his face. A panted "I... Oh my god!" was all she could manage, but it was enough for him. He gently slid his fingers out from her, trailing them up her abdomen as he lifted them to his mouth. She watched with wide, hungry eyes as he tasted her, her already laboured breathing quickening at the sight. It had her reaching down to slip her hand under his waistband in search of her own fun.

Chuckling, he took ahold of her wrist and kissed her palm. "Another time," he told her softly before slipping off the bed.

Hermione propped herself up on her elbows and watched with hungry curiosity as he removed that final scrap of clothing. She had touched him through his clothes, she had felt his cock pushed up against her center on a number of occassions, but finally seeing it... Staring at the impressive size, she bit her lip in anticipation.

Her excitement climbed as he rejoined her in bed, and she stared into the very essence of Severus through his eyes; every hope, every joy, every bit of his love for her pulsed in time with her racing heart. Unable to contain her eagerness, she pulled his face down and joined their lips once more, surprised but not displeased to taste a hint of herself on his tongue.

Her legs parted almost of their own volition, and he settled into the space between them before breaking the kiss. His silent stare was full of questions, and in answer she reached up and cupped his cheek. "Please don't make me ask again," she whispered, and a spark ignited in his gaze before he aligned himself against her opening and kissed her soundly, finally pushing into her.

Her breath hitched as he began to fill her, and she urged him on by deepening their kiss enthusiastically. He moved slowly at first, adjusting themselves to each other; Hermione arched her hips upwards to deepen his thrusts, pulling her head back with a pleasured moan at the feel of him inside her.

In every other aspect of their relationship, they found strength in words. Their lengthy letters that started their tumultuous friendship, their passionate late-night debates, their fierce spats of anger- each one a unique facet, a reflection of the bond they forged with each passing day. But this...

In this, their bond transcended the need for words. To speak would be to tarnish, and in this moment they were glowing. Words had ceased to exist.

With her gentle urging Severus began to move faster, and she matched his movements, wrapping her legs around his hips. Her fingers tangled in his hair and she felt him shudder as she grazed the large scars on his neck. Unsure if it was out of pleasure or discomfort she tried to avoid it, instead moving one hand to clutch his shoulder and digging her nails into his flesh as he found a spot deep within her that caused her to gasp and writhe. "Oh, fuck," she hissed as he hit that spot repeatedly, tossing her head to the side.

A brief, winded chuckle escaped Severus' lips as he fell to his elbows, covering her more completely with his body. He couldn't manage any words, but the brief yet passionate kiss they shared spoke volumes.

Her fingers gripped him so hard they turned white as she began to approach the peak of her pleasure. "Severus," she whispered, arching under him, and he grunted in agreement. They moved together urgently, their breaths haggard, until finally she broke, crying out as a wave of ecstasy undid her completely. And as she returned to her senses, Severus stifled a groan above her, reaching his own peak as the fog of bliss settled heavily inside her.

Utterly spent, the two of them remained tangled together as they caught their breath. Sweat slicked skin against sweat slicked skin, their chests rose and fell almost as one. As the air cooled their heated bodies and the weight of satiation held them captive, Hermione turned her head and stared at Severus with heavy-lidded eyes. She couldn't think of a thing to say, but she didn't have to. His eyes shared her sentiments exactly, and as he pulled her close she closed her eyes, completely content to stay in this state forever.