SSHG

The next day, we went about our business as if nothing had happened. We were both very good at that. At pretending. At acting normal when we felt anything but.

For two days we successfully danced around the subject of the kiss and my rejection of her offer for more. Then, Monday night -the night, it didn't escape my notice, that she used to return to her father's home- she had a nightmare. It wasn't the first she'd ever had, and I was certain it wouldn't be the last, but it seemed like one of the worst.

She'd only taken me up on my offer to floo directly into my study twice before. Both times she had been shaking and pale from fear. They had both been not long after she'd arrived at the castle to stay. Both times, I let her talk through the fear. I listened when she told me what they had been about, the memories that simply wouldn't leave her alone. I gave her a calming draught, told her that things would get better, and let her fall asleep in my bed.

In hindsight, the last part wasn't the most brilliant thing I've ever done. I should have never allowed her into my private quarters if I wanted to keep even a veil of propriety between us. I should have let her fall asleep in the chair and then taken her back to her rooms. But she'd looked so dead tired that first night, so alone as she sat in the chair and stared into the flames, that all I could think of to do was tuck her into my bed and allow her to drift to sleep again and promise to stay by her side. Of course I wasn't in the bed with her. I sat up in a chair beside the bed and watched her sleep. When predawn light would begin to filter through the waters of the Black lake and throw dancing rays on my floor, I lifted her into my arms and carried her to her own bed.

This night, I had no intention for anything different to happen. She fell into my arms when I strode into my study. Her tears woke me more surely than any stimulant could have. I ushered her to her chair and listened as she recounted her nightmare to me.

This one was different. It started out as a memory; her father holding her down on the bed. But when she looked up, it wasn't her father's face she saw, but Mikhail's. Her entire body shook as she recalled the nightmare. What could I say? That she might have nightmares about every man she let into her life? That they were unavailable? That wasn't what she needed to hear. I wouldn't lie to her and say it would never happen again, but I assured her that it was perfectly normal and that someday, the nightmares would fade.

When she had calmed, and her tears dried, I led her through the door to my room and tucked her into my bed. As I wrapped the blanket around her, she caught my arm and looked up at me.

"I just want to feel something besides fear," she whispered. I swallowed thickly and nodded my understanding. When she didn't release me, I sat beside her on the bed, watching her. Slowly, she pushed up to her elbows and pressed her lips to mine. I couldn't breathe while she kissed me. I was awash with conflicting emotions and didn't know which to act on. I reveled in the sensation of her lips against mine, the sweet possession of the kiss. I was repelled by the thought that she was using this not as a way to express emotion, but as a tool to dispel her fear. I felt shame that I wanted this, longed for this. Angry that she'd been driven to this point in her young life.

She reached into my lap, clumsily trying to rub her palm against me through my trousers. With both hands against her shoulder, I pushed her gently away from me and then caught her wrist to prevent her from touching my groin.

"No," I said firmly.

"Please," she begged. My heart broke. Shattered into a million little pieces. How could she be in my bed, begging me to do this to her? Pleading for me to take her? It was so twisted up in my head, I struggled to remember the reasons why I couldn't, why she needed to find someone else. But I knew that if I did this, if I took advantage of her this way, I would never be able to live with myself.

"No," I repeated. Her eyes searched my face. I wanted to hide from her gaze. She could always see right through me, see inside me so clearly. I didn't want her to see the emotions warring within me right then. A challenge came into her gaze.

"Tell me you don't want me," she demanded. I froze, wondering if I'd heard her right.

"What?"

"Tell me you don't want me. Look into my eyes and tell me you don't want me and I will leave you alone. I won't press this any farther. Tell me!" She looked wild and fierce, strong and fiery and everything that I wanted. But I reminded myself that it was all bravado. Inside, she was scared. Frightened that she would never find someone she could trust enough to give her body to. Terrified that she'd been broken beyond repair. She'd come to my rooms because a nightmare had driven her here, not any desire for me.

"I do not want you," I whispered. I looked her right in the eye as I said it. I felt the conviction of my words because they weren't a lie told for her sake or mine. They were the truth. A partial truth told to save us both from a mistake neither of us would be able to recover from. I didn't want her- like this. I didn't want her in my bed out of fear or curiosity. I wanted her here because of desire and affection. And no matter what I tried to convince myself, that's not what this was. Any affection she felt for me was either lingering sentiments from her fantasy, or gratitude for taking her away from her father. Not real affinity for me. And I refused to take advantage of her confusion.

Pain flashed so clearly across her face that I wondered how she kept it all inside. I wanted her to rail against me, to scream at me, to hit me or hex me. Anything. But she didn't. She turned her pain inward and let it eat away at her soul. She nodded once and got out of my bed. As she padded softly across the room, I realized that I wouldn't be able to do this twice. I was hurting her to protect her because she'd been hurt and it was all such a mess... I knew that I wouldn't be able to look into those beautiful eyes of hers and keep my resolve again. If she came to me once more, I would give into the demons riding me and I would have her. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't take that chance.

"Miss Granger," I said softly into the darkness. I heard her pause. "Don't come back." Her breath caught, and I could feel how much she hurt as if she was emanating it in waves. She didn't say anything, but stayed standing there for a minute, barefoot and in her nightgown, lit only by the ethereal glow of moonlight shining through the water. Then she turned and left my room, pulling the door closed softly behind her.

Dun dun dunnnnn...not to worry, the plot thickens in the next chapter. Review bribe me into posting it tomorrow?