… And Light

Later they lay naked, limbs entwined. The wild staccato of their heartbeats pulsed through their bodies, while mingling sweat cooled heated skin. Severus' heart calmed down first. Sometimes Hermione wondered if he could simply order his heart to beat in a certain rhythm. Knowing Severus, she wouldn't put that beyond him.

She lay halfway across him. When she moved, her nipples – still tight and aroused – prickled with the sensation of his chest hair rubbing against her. He was by no means hirsute – his chest sported just a sprinkling of coarse curls. Mostly black, with just a touch of silver, and very male. She sighed. She loved feeling him like that.

His long fingers curled around her waist, pressing her closer against him.

"Your heart feels like a bird," he murmured, "frantically beating its wings. You are delicious, Hermione."

She reached up and stroked back his limp, sweat-drenched hair. "Sweet talker."

Then she propped herself up on her elbows and gently traced the harsh lines around his mouth. Not even the ecstasy of orgasm could smooth them away anymore.

"Do you want to talk about why you were late for dinner?"

oooOooo

He stared up into her eyes. In the darkness of the bedroom there appeared as dark as his own. When had she stopped demanding answers for the questions that were on her mind? But he knew – not the hour or the day of course. Hermione had changed in the long months of her imprisonment. They had not known each other very well before she was captured, and now …

"You know, in a way we're on even ground now," Hermione remarked suddenly. "Both broken, but not destroyed."

"Hermione –" He wanted to say that she was not broken, but he couldn't lie to her. The brightest witch of her age … the memory of Remus' words was taunting him.

"Ginny has written to me again. She had another argument with Harry about his eyes. He 'forgot' to go to that Muggle specialist Lois found. Do you know why he refuses to seek further treatment? As I understand Muriel, there's at least a chance that removing his eyes and implanting magical replacements would allow him to see again."

Her candid manner made him smile, reminding him of a much younger Hermione, giving him hope.

"Maybe broken, but perhaps not beyond repair?" He trailed a finger from her temple to her ear, down to her throat.

That was, in a nutshell, what they had promised each other time and again since her rescue. The first time he held her naked in his arms again, the first time she ventured outside after her long captivity, in December in the labyrinth, just a few days ago at the daffodil meadow. And if fate allowed it, they would keep doing just that for a long time. Until maybe, one day, her wish would be granted, and they would be – just fine.

Severus sighed. "Hermione, you just said it. We're all of us broken. And all of us deal with it in different ways. Leave him be. While there is a certain time frame for the suggested procedure to be successful, there's still time until Harry must decide. Time that all of us should grant him."

Hermione rolled off him and curled up in the crook of his arm. Her bushy hair tickled the sensitive skin of his throat. "And?"

"What 'and'?"

"There's something else. I can hear it in your voice."

When had she become so observant? He closed his eyes. He knew, of course. When the monotony of her days had been so cruel that she had to pay attention to the tiniest differences around her or go insane.

"I suspect that he may … still see … something. Though nothing of the living world."

"Oh no!" Hermione gasped. Then he heard the soft sound of her lower lip being sucked inward.

For a while they lay silent in the darkness.

Then, quiety, she asked. "Do you think he can see Draco?"

Severus shrugged, an awkward gesture that made her hair tickle him even more. He couldn't help squirming a little.

"There's something else," he said slowly. "Since we're already talking."

"Your shadow. Is that why you were late for dinner? Minerva was late, too."

"So you noticed." Stating the obvious. Stalling. I must be losing my touch. Severus sighed and laid his forearm over his eyes.

"You're scared, aren't you?" she whispered. She pulled herself up on her knees and dragged his arm away from his face. "Severus? This – the shadow – that's because of – it's –"

"It is not your fault," he stated firmly. "Succumbing to the combined Imperius of five powerful Necromancers without going insane is quite a feat. And the consequences of Harry's and my actions in Death are most certainly not your fault."

She exhaled a shuddering breath. "Intellectually, I know that. Emotionally …" She trailed off. He found her hand and squeezed it tightly.

How he wished there was more he could do, or say. In the end, he decided to simply answer her question. "I do believe it is a result of almost drowning in the Fifth Precinct. Those waters have a strong metamorphic effect. As a matter of fact, they may very well be responsible for whatever it is that Harry is still able to see."

His left hand crept up to the bridge of his nose. "For a long time I wasn't aware of what was happening myself. Only … that I could sense you as if you were in the same room. Your warmth, even though I felt … strangely cold, naked, exposed. Then I noticed that my shadow was gone. That is all I'm aware of right now." He scowled. "But maybe we'll know more next week. Minerva has ordered me to accompany you to St. Mungo's on Thursday."

"Oh dear. Poor Severus. To be poked and prodded by the Healers." She kissed the tip of his nose. "Don't worry. I'll hold your hand."

oooOooo

A/N: Thank you very much for reading and for your support. A sequel is sometimes more difficult to write than the first part of a story, so I'm very grateful for your input.

I hope you liked today's set of chapters!