DISCLAIMER: Bla bla bla, JKR owns all, or maybe shares with WB and whoever the publisher is, yadda, yadda, yadda, no monies made by moi.

Timeline: HBP compliant, beyond that is mine.

Rating: One more chapter of freaking foreplay, sorry :)

A/N: Is this taking far too long for anyone else? Because really I'm dying for Lucius to show up ...

Aurelia.

The sound of her heels echoed down the empty hallway. She was wearing the red stilettos she had worn the night before, but the dress was transfigured into a pair of black slacks and a red blouse. They looked good, she knew, but not as good as the original dress. She had, at the last minute, decided to keep her hair and makeup as well as the fur coat she had essentially stolen from the party the night before.

Although now she wasn't sure why. The campus was almost completely deserted. It was, after all Saturday.

Severus was good on his word and had gotten Kingsley out of her house with no trouble at all. She hadn't even had to wait to apperate to Syracuse University in upstate New York.

It was an offhanded comment Wayne had made about his Irish professor friend. It wasn't coincidence and she knew that now. There had to be some kind of connection between all of this and Cormac.

She felt her chest tighten at the thought of him. It wasn't pain, it was more a claustrophobic fear. An uncontrollable feeling that made her nauseous. She swallowed hard and brought herself back to the here and now. It wouldn't do to dwell on the past.

The building she was in was dark and empty. All of the office doors were closed and locked, although a Muggle lock wasn't going to keep her out. She stopped at the second to last door. The black and gold plaque announced proudly "Earth Sciences," and below "Professor Edward C. Mac."

She gestured with her hand and barely whispered "Alohamora" and the door clicked. The office was eerily familiar, like something once forgotten in a dream. It may have been the oak furniture or even the smell. It pulled at the back of her brain. She shook her head. She was there for a reason.

She took off the coat and hung it on the back of the desk chair. Humming quietly to herself out of an attempt for calm, she took a gander around the room. The bookcase had only text books on science, history and ecology. No red leather journal. She flipped the desk lamp on and sat carefully at the wood desk.

The desk was well used with ink stains and score marks in the varnish, but there were no errant papers or notes. She frowned running her hands across the flat surface of the desk. She quickly opened each drawer, pulling up papers and pens, but no journal. She sat back in the chair and sighed.

She closed her eyes and thought. Where would he have put it? The muscles of her mouth pulled at the corner. She opened her eyes and pushed away from the desk, climbing out of the chair and onto her knees on the floor in front of the drawers on the left side of the desk.

She pulled the bottom drawer open and then tugged, yanking it off of its track. She set it aside and leaned into the hole it left, to the back of the wood. Her hand groped in the dark until it found purchase on the wood. She drug her hand along the expanse until it found the leather. She smiled again, and pulled on the book, breaking it from its binding.

Pulling it out she took off the silver tape and stuck it to the edge of the desk. She turned the book over and found the initials on the back, A.K., her initials.

"What on earth could be so important in that little book that could bring you to your knees?"

Aurelia gasped in surprise. She looked up to see a man leaning against the door frame with an unnerving smirk on his face. She recognized him just a fraction too late.

"Wilks," she gasped.

"Ah, my reputation precedes me." He moved his hand on his thigh and she realized he was holding a wand. "This will be more fun than I thought. Hmm, you are quite the pretty little thing when distressed."

Aurelia took a quick glance around, no windows, only one door and he was standing between it and her. She was trapped.

"What do you want?" and her voice was more confident than she had expected.

Wilks looked her up, leering. "Now that is a loaded question."

She glared at him. She didn't have to read his mind to know how disgusting his thoughts were at the moment. But it wasn't just sex he was thinking, violence wasn't far behind, or ahead. Either way, it wasn't good for her. She was disturbingly aware that she was grossly unarmed.

In the blink of an eye he moved an attack, but she was faster, able to read the slight changes in his breathing.

"Expellarmis!" And his wand flew from his hand straight into hers.

If he was surprised, he didn't show it. He dove at her before she could mount a response. His body hit hers with a force that knocked the air out of her lungs. She fell back and hit the wall behind her. Somehow she got her knees up to her chest and with one swift movement, mule kicked him in his gut. She took his momentary lack of equilibrium and got to her feet as fast as she could. She pointed his wand at his chest.

There was a bright light that never left the tip of the wand. The deafening crack sounded and the light came back at her, hitting her square in the shoulder. The wand dropped instantly to the ground and she fell to her knees, holding her shoulder. She could feel the blood as it ran down her arm. Wilks closed in on her quickly, making sure to kick her as soon as he was close enough.

Through a cry of pain, she brought up her good hand and the curse hit him in the chest. He flew across the room, hitting the far wall, hard.

She stood gingerly, cradling her wounded arm, feeling the warm sticky blood soak through the fabric of her shirt. She kicked the wand out of his reach and stood over top of him. She took a deep breath and she wanted so much to kick him, inflict the same pain he had inflicted on her, but she knew she couldn't. She wasn't a Death Eater. She was better than him. But the moment of hesitation cost her.

The wandless curse he threw at her bound her instantly. She could feel the coils tightening and when she gasped, they constricted so tight her lungs couldn't expand to take in more oxygen. Wilks climbed to his feet as fast as he could. The anger radiated from his core and the sheer terror she knew was in her eyes only did to spur him on.

He grabbed her hair close to her scalp and threw her against the wall, face first. His hands were on her shirt and he ripped the fabric up her back. Then they were on the waist band of her pants.

She froze, refusing to struggle anymore. Time slowed and she could feel the magic jump up from all around her. She would not go down this way.

The explosion was magnificent, lighting the room bright blue. The bonds that held her shattered like glass and she gasped for breath. Once she stopped seeing stars, she turned to face her assailant. He was on the floor, his back against the wall. Blood was pooling in his mouth and streaming down his chin to his neck. His eyes were open, but he wasn't seeing. Actually he wasn't moving at all.

As carefully as she could not to jar her shoulder, she dropped to the floor in front of the wizard. He wasn't breathing. A loud bang sounded somewhere on the other end of the building. She suppressed the cry of pain as she grabbed the book and Wilks' wand. She closed her eyes tightly and disapperated.

Severus.

Severus had always considered himself well read. As a student he had been a recluse, spending almost all of his time in the Hogwarts library. His personal collections were impressive to say the least. And he had read them all, multiple times.

But the information in these journals of Aurelia's was impressive. He had a similar feeling the first time he read one of Hermione Granger's essays. That begrudging admittance of brilliance, but only to himself. He would never admit that a Gryffindor could be on the same level as him.

He frowned placing a finger in the spot he had stopped reading. Technically Aurelia wasn't a Gryffindor. But she probably would have been, as annoying as she was. And with her parents. Well, at least her father. He was still unsure of who her mother was, but he had a few ideas.

Either way, she had definitely gotten her father's mind. The journal he was currently reading was on the application of Runes on an offensive level as opposed to the normal defensive. Quite brilliant. However, not nearly as impressive as her magical theory.

It looked as if she believed magic was in literally every atom of every person, animal or object that existed. Some of these atoms had more or less magic, and there were different kinds of magic. Meaning that even Muggles and Squibs had magic that they just weren't able to tap into.

She was very interested in wands, probably because she never had one. She had, and in his opinion correctly so, postulated that a wand was simply a funnel for the magical power a witch or wizard possessed. It helped to channel the natural power creating a more condensed flow of magic. He was very much looking forward to having a long conversation on these theories with her.

The unmistakable pop of a witch apperating sounded in the garden by the back yard. He smiled and set the journal aside next to his cup of tea and waited for her to enter the house.

There was a solid thud against the door and then it opened. He knew something was wrong and was on his feet in an instant. She was white and he could smell the blood. She was cradling her left shoulder and the rest of her arm was limp at her side. The blood was dripping from her unmoving fingers.

He was at her side suddenly angry. Her eyes were red and puffy as if she had been crying and he couldn't stop the violent emotion that sprung up. Whoever did this to her would pay.

He tried to wrap his arm around her to help her into the house, but she hissed with pain as soon as he touched her.

"How bad is it?"

"It hurts," she said with a slight whine in her voice.

"Let me see." His hands were on her, pulling the fabric of her shirt down over her shoulder. The flesh just below her collar bone was charred black where the curse had hit and there were black tendrils crawling over her flesh from that point. They spread up over her neck, down her arm and back and partly onto her chest. Her shirt was soaked with blood.

She flinched when he ran his fingers across her flesh. Pulling back as to not hurt her any further, he dug into his pocket and pulled out a bottled potion.

"Drink this. I'll have to get you more, this is all I have on me. You'll need to take it every eight hours for the next two days. The pain will lessen fairly quickly. I think you have all the ingredients I need to make a salve that should numb the rest of the pain." He unstoppered the bottle and handed it to her. She didn't even hesitate before she tipped her head back and downed the entire bottle. He could see her shoulder relax almost instantly.

"What happened?" he asked pocketing the empty bottle.

"It was Wilks. I don't know how he followed me, but he did. I disarmed him but the curse I threw with his wand back fired." She gestured to her shoulder. "He came at me, and ... and he tried to," she couldn't finish the sentence. "I think I killed him."

Severus didn't know if he should be horrified or impressed. Wilks was no amateur. He was known for being quite brutal and definitely not kind to women. If he was in fact dead, his body had to be dealt with.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing to her head. She nodded. She was too exhausted and in too much pain to deny him. "Legilimens," he spoke softly.

The sensation was by now quite familiar. He dove into her mind and rummaged around to find the location of Wilks. Once he had the location, he was more or less evicted from her brain.

"You get cleaned up. I will deal with Wilks." He watched her as her body started shaking and she clenched her eyes shut.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and she was in his arms, pulling her body against his. She was warm and suddenly seemed so very young and frail. This was not his powerful witch. He fought with himself for a moment and gave up, running his hand over her head.

"You're alive," he spoke into her hair. "Don't ever apologize for that."

Aurelia.

The pulsating pain in her shoulder was muted but still there. It spiked when she used the arm. A hissed breath escaped her mouth as she raised her arm to remove her shirt. She was more careful with her pants, just shimmying them off her hips. Her bra was a little more challenging, but she managed to undo the clasp with one hand and let the material fall off her shoulders.

She sat on the edge of the claw foot tub for a moment, waiting for it to fill. The separate tub and shower was one of the first changes she had made when she moved here and now she was very thankful for that foresight. She filled the tub so her body would be fully immersed and poured two potions into the steaming water, a healing draught and relaxation potion. They swirled around in the water and turned it a milky white color.

She was careful not to jostle her arm as she climbed into the tub. The water only stung at the point under her collar bone where the curse had struck her but that faded as she sunk deeper into the water. The potions she added to the bath water relaxed her muscles and after a few moments the pain was almost gone.

There wasn't any satisfaction with the growl that erupted from her throat. Mostly she was angry at being so stupid to be caught off guard. She tried to hang on to that anger because it was an easier emotion to deal with than the horror of taking a life. She hadn't meant to kill Wilks. Had she? Could you actually kill someone without meaning to?

She had no idea what Severus was going to do. Wilks was a Death Eater and he was dead. Someone was going to have to account for his absence. What would he tell Voldemort? And what kind of a person was she to simply let Severus deal with all of it?

Strangely enough, Severus didn't seem mad at her. He was more worried about her wellbeing. And he even seemed a bit impressed that she could take care of herself.

Something inside her craved that from him. She wanted him to be impressed by her. She wanted to be someone he thought was special. She couldn't stop her mind from grabbing the memory of earlier that morning.

She physically shook her head, not allowing that train of thought to continue. She sighed and closed her eyes, resting her head on the back of the tub and slipped into a light sleep.

Her eyes flew open as the click of the door shutting startled her. She wasn't sure how long she had slept, soaking in the tub, the water was still warm. She looked up to see Severus standing against the closed bathroom door holding a jar in his hand. He was no longer wearing his suit, just a black chemise and slacks and his hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck, a few pieces falling out around his face. This was the most attractive Aurelia had ever seen him.

"What are you-?"

He cleared his throat before speaking. "I took care of Wilks."

"Is he ...?"

"He's dead."

Aurelia was horrified at the relief that she felt. She had killed a man and she felt relief. There was a long pause and then Severus held up the jar in his hand. "I've finished the salve." He took a step toward the tub and Aurelia instinctively sunk deeper into the water. "Do you mind?" he asked, gesturing to the chair against the wall.

Aurelia felt her face go hot and was sure he would easily be able to see the color rise in her cheeks. She shook her head almost imperceptivity and she wasn't sure he saw it until he moved, pulling the chair to the head of the tub.

She watched him roll his sleeves up to his elbows. Her attention stuck on the scull and snake tattoo on his left forearm. The Dark Mark. She was embarrassed the mark aroused her. Judging by the wave of emotion that flowed her way, he was aroused as well.

"Here. Lean back," he said opening the jar. "And relax."

She shivered again, but did as he said, leaning back against the tub and closing her eyes. She was supremely thankful for the cloudy water, and made sure that it covered her breasts even when her breathing picked up.

She heard the glass jar being set on the tile floor and the sound of his hands rubbing together. The room filled with the scent of lavender. His fingers found their way onto her flesh of her left shoulder. She couldn't help the sharp intake of air as the contact stung. He lightened his touch every so softly and worked the salve into her flesh.

A tingling warmth followed his touches and she was almost sure it was the salve and not her body's reaction to his hands on her. The next coat of salve, he dug his fingers deeper into her muscles along her arm, shoulder, down her back and neck and then down the front of chest.

She let out a long breath through her nose when his fingers dipped down under the water, tracing the top part of her left breast. She swallowed hard when his hands resurfaced and went over her shoulder once again. She had to clench her eyes closed tightly to make sure they didn't flutter open and ruin the moment.

She tried to hide the whimper when his hands left her flesh. She heard him stand from the chair and then felt him lean over her and grab something on the other side of the tub. When she heard a click, she realized it was shampoo. She shivered yet again when his fingers dug into her hair and massaged her scalp.

A low sound escaped her throat, and at that, Severus pressed all of his fingers to her scull. He turned her head to one side and pulled the shampooed hair away from her neck. He leaned down and pressed his lips against the exposed flesh. Goosebumps spread down her neck and across her chest. She felt him smile against her skin.

He placed both hands on her shoulder. "Lean back."

She sunk down into the water and he supported her head with one hand, rinsing her hair with the other. As his fingers grazed her hair line, she frowned and wined. He chuckled and lifted her head out of the water. She was being impatient and he knew it.

She finally opened her eyes when he stood again. He took the white towel off the hook and held it open for her. She froze, realizing he expected her to get out of the water with him standing right there.

She took a deep breath and stood, keeping her back to him. He wrapped the towel around her shoulders, letting his hands linger on her collar bones. He helped her step out of the tub and then drained the water.

He wiped his wet hands on the towel hanging by the sink, retrieved the jar from the floor then led her to her bedroom.