January 3, 2012
Author Note: Sexual content, but not between Antonin and Hannah.

Must I beg you, Dear Reader? Please review.

Updated March 8, 2012

Chapter Four

Hog's Head Inn, Hogsmeade, Scotland
1st of September, 1997

Antonin swigged the vodka, wondering if it was more water than spirits. Considering the frugality of the Hog's Head, he convinced himself the drink was cut at least by half.

He watched the Abbott girl's shoulders heave in resignation as she rested at the table. Her face was hidden in her arms and her ponytail was askew. He itched to pull off the tortoise shell barrette and fix it properly, but satisfied himself with more drink instead. He'd polished off a quarter of the bottle and it hadn't even been an hour yet.

The girl's smile reminded him of Aliz. Damn it. Everything about her reminded him of the woman he had loved. But Aliz was shorter than than girl. And her smile was genuine when she looked at him. Not frightened. Aliz had never smiled out of obligation.

He rested his head against the headboard, not minding the abandoned cobwebs and dust-filled intricate carvings. The vodka went to the nightstand. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the Abbott girl from his thoughts.

Aliz was sleeping on his bed, curled up in his blanket. He lay down gingerly, trying not to stir the box springs, trying not to wake her up. Her sleepy eyes looked up into his face when he rolled around to hold her.

"Did I fall 'sleep?" she mumbled.

"Shh. Close your eyes." He draped his arm over her hips.

She rubbed her cheeks and yawned. "Sorry, An."

"For what?" He nuzzled her forehead.

"I'm not supposed to be sleeping. What would the Dark Lord say if he knew I was napping while we're fighting a war?"

"He'd congratulate us," Antonin whispered into her ear.

"No, he would not!" she protested, pushing him away. "Don't be daft."

"Why not? He should congratulate us." He slipped his arm under the furnace of blankets, sighing contentedly as he managed to caress the bare skin of her stomach.

"Are you – where did we first kiss?" she asked, anger and fierce rage in her eyes.

"It's really me," he soothed. "I've been a bit of an arse lately."

"I will strangle you with my bare hands if you don't get out of Dolohov's bed this instant!"

Antonin grinned at her. "I'll have the best orgasm ever, Aliz. Do it." He chuckled, laying back on the bed, spreading his arms at his side. "And before I die, kiss me the way you did in the hold of the Durmstrang Goddess. Shake the bed a bit to remind me of the waves sloshing that damn boat around while I tried to prick you with my virgin cock. I was so embarrassed, you know, having my first time with an 'experienced' woman." He laughed quietly. "Oh, look. Now you've gone and made me hard just thinking about that night."

Aliz crushed his chest in her embrace. "I thought …" she faltered. "I thought you'd been ... compromised." She buried her face in his robe and clutched his arm. He could barely hear her muffled voice promise, "I'd never kill you, An. I couldn't even kill your imposter. You're too beautiful."

He beamed at her words and slipped his hands around her, laying her back on the bed. With fast fingers he had her robe open and his lips covered her tummy in kisses.

"Would you just look at that belly button," he admired before he rolled his tongue around the "outty" nub.

She giggled. "Your beard tickles."

He fingered her panties. "Looks like we'll be needing to get you some new skivvies soon, Cap'n."

She brushed his hand away and covered her abdomen defensively. "I'm not getting fat."

"Who said you're getting fat?" He pried her hands away and tugged the beige panties down until he could see her curly hair peeking out. He crawled over her and eased open her legs so that he could press his nose into the moist cloth and sniff deeply. "You have the most exotic scent," he breathed.

"What's gotten into you? It's been weeks since you even looked at me, Antonin."

He pulled her underwear down and she wriggled while he trailed kisses down her legs, following the cast off undergarment. Bringing his lips back to her stomach, he brushed her skin with kisses. "You're my son's mother. I love you."

"I love you, too," she sighed, burying her fingers into his tangles of hair. Then she froze. She sat up and pulled his chin to look up at her. "What did you just say?"

He kissed her lips, gently easing her back against the mattress again. Hovering over her, he gazed into her aqua blue eyes for an eternity before he confessed, "I've been stupid before, I know. But this time I was a damned fool. I hated seeing you get sick, and then I got angry when it didn't stop after that first week."

She closed her eyes. "I've been trying to hide it."

He saw an anxious ripple on her forehead. "I want my son, Aliz," he insisted.

"What if she's a girl?"

"Is he a girl?"

"I don't know! But why does she have to be a son?"

He chuckled, kissing her neck. "The Dolohov family will have an heir." It was a proclamation.

"You could have your pick of the witches. Any one of them would give you a son."

"What does that have to do with anything? You are the mother of my children."

"Oh, it's children now? You expect me to do this more than once?" Her voice had the happy lilt that calmed Antonin. The joy that made him need her after he hated himself for torturing the Dark Lord's victims.

He opened his robe with one hand, giving his free-styling cock freedom to push against her inviting depths.

"Wait!"

He looked into her eyes.

She blushed. "The healer said I have to keep it clean before and after … you know, to prevent … problems."

He stood up with a rush, the back of his hand pressed against his forehead in distress. "Right. We can't do that anymore."

"No," she said in a giggle. "I just need to wash down there with plain water. And the healer said you have to, too. Otherwise, it's still not clean enough."

Antonin pulled his wand from his robe's sheath and hastily produced a rag with a non-verbal spell. Then his wand sprayed cold water in all directions.

"Got a little problem holding back, Fella?" Aliz teased with a smirk.

Antonin blushed deeply. "I need practice. That's all."

"Go on then. Wash yourself off and then give me one of them wet towels. A clean one."

He pulled back the foreskin and rubbed the head of his cock with the cold towel. Then he threw it on his desk and closed his eyes, concentrating on the tip of his wand. He held out his hand and caught a warm, wet towel.

He saw the admiring look on his lover's face. Throwing off his wet robe and dropping his wand, he kneeled on the bed and spread Aliz' legs, carefully wiping her with his towel.

"Top to bottom," she instructed.

He shrugged and complied. Then he wiped his fingers too before tossing away the cloth and exploring her heat.

"Come," she begged, pulling on his shoulders.

He grinned at her pleading face and lowered himself into her, still fumbling a bit, but not caring because Aliz wanted him inside her. He was gentle, and she groaned as though she'd been in need for a long time.

He held himself over her, not letting himself press against her stomach.

"I won't break," she sighed in frustration, tilting her pelvis up to him.

His arms lowered down, his hands above her shoulders. Before he fucked her silly, he had a promise to make.

Hannah Abbott had to piss. Like a Thestral. It was that bad.

The Death Eater had dozed off, his head lolling to the side. She couldn't very well call for a house elf, given that she was still silenced.

There was nothing for it. She stood up, squeezing back her pee, and went to the bed. She poked his shoulder. Not getting any response, she shook his shoulder this time.

His hand grasped her fingers and brought it to his mouth. "Marry me. I swear on the Name, I will provide for you and our children." Then he kissed her fingers so tenderly that it made Hannah gasp. He squeezed her fingers gently. "If you'll have me. Say you'll be my wife."

Hannah pulled her hand from his lips. He opened his eyes and stared at Aliz – no, it was just the Abbott girl. And she was turning beet red, her eyes looking anywhere but at him.

He pulled himself to sit up straight, and grabbed her shoulders. "What did you hear me say?" he demanded, shaking her, making her look straight into his eyes.

The door of the room burst open and a livid headmaster stormed into the room. Snape pulled the girl away from Antonin, placing her behind him. With his wand drawn, he yelled, "What the hell is going on?"