Chapter 39

"I want to be yours," she replied, as he slowed his thrusting, feeling pained and exhausted, but transcendent, slipping one tired hand from her knee and down her thigh, delving between her wet labia and haphazardly rubbing her clitoris, for she had not yet come – his own climax had been so fast and desperate.

"God knows I want you, Granger," he hissed, dangerously, speeding up the movements of his fingers upon her, feeling her vaginal walls squeeze his rapidly-deflating cock. "But, it will only be when all this … is over."

She groaned in both frustration and arousal, throwing her head back and closing her eyes, giving herself over to his fingers that were roughly masturbating her, demanding the orgasm to equal his own.

"Come, my sweet girl," he crooned, knowing that she was close, very close, he knew her body and could feel it.

"Severus – oh!"

A particularly wicked swipe of her clit pushed her over the edge, eyelids flying open as her hips thrust upwards as she came, and the force of her contractions pushed his softened prick from inside her.

"Good girl, keep it going," Snape breathed, slowing the movements of his fingers to a gentle, circular massage as she came down from her peak, removing himself from between her legs and laying to the side of her, whilst continuing to cup and stroke her.

"That was so good," she said, turning to face him and laying her hand on his bare chest. "Thank you."

"You never have any need to thank me."

Granger leaned forward and placed a slow, languorous kiss to his mouth, drawing his lips out against hers, a hand cupping his cheek, rough with a day's growth.

"I do want to be with you," she confirmed, again.

"If that is still what you desire after the Dark Lord is dead, then that is what you shall have. Although I feel I should advise you, or warn you, rather, that my relationship history bears nothing to recommend me."

"Remus thinks that we are more alike than we realise."

"Lupin? What does the wolf have to do with anything?"

"Goodness, I have so much to tell you!"

Granger pushed herself up to sitting, then quickly pulled the quilt around her bared breasts.

"Um, do you have a t-shirt or anything I can borrow? This conversation might take a while and I'd really rather not do it with my boobs hanging out."

"Believe me when I say, I do not mind looking at them," he replied, lifting an intentionally lascivious eyebrow.

She gave him an aggrieved look, which he rather liked, but nonetheless he rolled out of bed and over to his armoire where he selected one of his crisp, white shirts and threw it towards her, shooting his wand as it flew across the room, making it smaller. Granger slipped it on, doing up a few of the buttons and rolling the sleeves up. Severus wasn't sure whether she looked sexier with it on, or off.

He went to the bathroom to relieve himself, surprised to find her right behind him as he stood before the toilet bowl, waiting for nature to take its course. Nothing was immediate, these days. She slipped under his arm and wrapped her own around his narrow waist.

"Would you like me to hold it for you?"

What a bold, and strangely erotic, offer.

"As you wish," was all he trusted himself to reply, as she reached round and took a gentle hold of his limp prick, aiming it towards the toilet bowl.

Surprisingly, he was still able to release, and the sensation of pissing whilst her soft little hand held him steady was nonsensically pleasant, especially as the heel of her fist was pressing against his balls.

"Kinky witch," he reprimanded, as he removed his dick from her palm to shake it.

"I just fancied it."

She smiled at him as she sauntered over to the sink to wash her hands, and the first thing his eyes focused on was her fucking bare arse cheeks, hanging out of the bottom of his shrunken white shirt. He couldn't help it, and was upon her in a split-second, bending low and planting a sucking kiss to her peachy arse, right in that delicious curve under her rounded cheek, at the top of her leg.

"Ye gods, girl, you could drive a wizard to madness," he muttered, resigned to the indignity of licking her round little bum whilst on bended knee in his own bathroom.

"Stop, then," he heard her say, without much conviction, as she had reached behind her and grabbed a handful of his lank hair, rubbing rather nicely against his scalp, in a pathetic attempt to tug him back up to standing.

He was forced to desist his attentions when she began to walk towards the door that led back to the bedchamber, and he heard his knee creak as he got to his feet. If that wasn't a sign of old age, then nothing was. As he followed her, he picked up his silky, forest-green dressing gown from the hook on the back of the bathroom door, and slipped into it, fastening the sash at the waist. That would do, to cover his nakedness.

Granger scampered back across the bed and covered her legs beneath the covers, sitting cross-legged and impatient. He ordered tea by calling down to the kitchens, and soon was ensconced in the bed also, warm mugs of Hogwarts best tea in both their hands.

"Do go ahead," he urged, taking a delicate sip of his tea, and raising his eyebrow in expectation.

"Orla is pregnant, and it was the Malfoys who cast the charm that discovered it."

"What? Oh, bloody hell."

"Thankfully, it's not Draco's."

Not Draco's? At least that was one piece of good fortune, as a child created between two half-siblings would risk an unpleasant array of birth defects. But if it wasn't Draco's, whose … oh no.

"It is Corban Yaxley's child," he said, more of a statement than a question.

"It is," Granger confirmed, and her shoulders sank.

"What does she intend to do with the pregnancy?"

"Remus cast a dating charm upon her, and she is already about three months, so she insists she's too far along to end it. She knows it's a girl, and is adamant that she wants to have and keep the baby."

"It is not the best of times to be bringing new life into the world."

"I agree, but I also see that she has lost everyone she held dear. It only makes sense that she would want to keep her own daughter."

"She realises that there is no way that Yaxley cannot be told? When the child is born, she will need to present herself alongside him at the Ministry, so that paternity can be magically established."

"Charlie already thought of that, and we discussed it last night, over dinner at Shell Cottage. That rule only applies to unmarried mothers, for if a witch is married, the baby is presumed to be her husband's and recorded thus."

Severus wasn't sure he liked where this discussion was going.

"And? I hope you are not suggesting that she marries."

"Seamus Finnigan suggested it."

"Finnigan would," he deadpanned, rolling his eyes at the Irish boy's stupidity. "No doubt he offered for the role himself?"

"He did, actually, but Orla turned him down."

"Very sensible, although I have to admit the idea does hold merit, since Yaxley cannot ever find out he has another child, else she will never be free of him. She will have enough trouble with Lucius Malfoy attempting to gain access to his grandchild."

"I know, which is why I'm glad she's arranged to bond with Remus, instead."

Granger was staring at him, her chin raised defiantly, as if daring him to disagree. He'd seen that look on her face many a time, over the years, in the Potions classroom.

"Lupin."

"Yes. I believe there may be more between them than just a convenient arrangement, which is why she refused Seamus," she explained.

"I had suspected that myself, as you know. Miss Malfoy is just Lupin's type, if I remember rightly, if not rather too young."

"Excuse me?" she shot back, gesturing between the two of them.

"Our situation is entirely different," he replied, defensively.

Something in his answer galvanised her inner Gryffindor, and, sending their cups of tea to the bedside table, she knelt up, placed her hands on his shoulders, and helped herself to a kiss of such depth and intensity that it quite took his breath away. He raised a hand to tangle in her hair, never one to pass up an opportunity for snogging Miss Granger.

Without warning, she stopped, and sat back in the same position she had been before, calming picking up her tea and taking a sip, smirking at his swollen lips, and his slight pant of arousal and surprise.

"Yes, very different," she teased, witheringly.

"You, girl, should be illegal," he retorted, summoning his own mug of tea to return his hand, shifting slightly to disguise the stirrings of the erection that had sprung up from her passionate and unexpected kiss, with the folds of his dressing gown.

"Don't think I can't see that."

"Can I have no secrets from you, witch?"

She pretended to think about his request.

"Probably not," she replied, saucily shaking her head.

Granger was probably only one more piece of cheek away from him dropping to one knee and proposing marriage.

How he had longed for a witch like this, all his life.

A woman who would challenge him, question him, buffer his innate surliness with good humour and arouse his mind as well as his cock. Hermione was barely a woman, but he supposed that mattered not. Severus suddenly wanted this curse gone more than ever, wanting to know the true desires of the girl's heart; uncompelled.

"So," he coughed, anxious to get back to the discussion in hand before he vomited his heart and soul on the bedcovers, "Miss Malfoy believes that marrying Lupin is her best course of action? I take it that someone has pointed out the obvious problem of him being the country's most wanted werewolf, and that if her daughter is believed to be his progeny, it will be subject to the same level of interest as his son?"

"She knows all of this. Remus told me. But its what she wants, for better or worse. She doesn't want to hide behind the Malfoy name. Orla wants to be counted for who she is, an opponent of Voldemort's regime."

"She is curiously brave for a Hufflepuff."

"This war has brought out extraordinary traits in all of us."

"Indeed it has," he agreed, his eyes searching her face, feeling a pull that used to be indicative of the compulsion.

Now he was free of it, though he still felt the same desire.

"Well then, it is their decision to make, but if she thinks that Lucius Malfoy will take the loss of his only grandchild to a werewolf, without a single murmur of dissent, she is badly wrong."

"They will prepare for that, I'm sure."

Both Hermione and Severus finished their cups of tea, and sent them back through the Floo, where the empty mugs would find their way to the kitchen.

"It is late," he observed.

"Should I go?"

"What a stupid question," he replied, dousing the wall sconces, leaving just the flickering golden glow of the fire to light the room, and leant back against his pillows.

Granger began to unfasten the buttons on his shirt that she had been wearing, revealing once again her sublime body to his view, dropping the garment down the side of the bed, before shifting over to him, and insinuating her small hand between the folds of his thin dressing gown, seeking his cock, that had remained semi-interested. Quick as a flash, she dropped her head and took it into her mouth, swiping her tongue around the head before sliding her lips down his shaft, making him exclaim in surprised pleasure.

"Fucking hell!"

He felt her smile around his cock, and he ran his hand down her smooth back, enjoying the feel of her warm skin under his palm. A rather wicked idea suddenly came to mind, and he began to pull her hips towards his head. She stopped what she was doing, and looked at him, quizzically.

"Don't be thick, Granger, it doesn't suit you. Straddle my face, so that I may give you the same oral pleasure as you are to me."

She blushed, beautifully, and he tugged on her leg, encouraging her to lift it over him, and place her genitals directly over his face. As with all things sexual, she trusted him, and he was soon assaulted by the sight and smell of her exposed cunt within licking distance, while her persistent little mouth returned to his cock and began to suck him off in earnest.

Holy shit.

He'd better begin, lest he prematurely shoot his load before she was even halfway there. Severus pushed his tongue inside her tight hole, fucking her with it, using his thumbs to hold her labia open to his greedy mouth.

As he sucked her clitoris between his pursed lips, feeling her moan around his cock as she slurped him towards orgasm, he truly felt like the luckiest bastard in all the world.

-xxx-

Remus was trying Teddy with a few spoonfuls of sloppy breakfast porridge the next morning, when Orla arrived in the kitchen. Hermione had not returned from Hogwarts, and he guessed she might stay there for a while, since the school was closed for the summer, and because she was no doubt aware that he and Orla may need some space, time and privacy, after their decision to bond.

The Irish girl stood in the doorway, wearing long pyjama trousers and a Hufflepuff Quidditch jumper, her long, white-blonde hair plaited down one shoulder. Her feet were bare. He was noticing everything today, that he'd never paid that much attention to before. Everything from the iridescent blue of her eyes to the kindness in her smile. After their kiss last night, and his pep-talk from Hermione, he was feeling vastly better about the whole thing.

"Good morning."

"It is a good morning."

Orla approached him, squeezing Teddy's little knee and asking the child in a high voice if he was enjoying his first big boy's breakfast. The baby pumped his chubby arms up and down in pleasure, recognising her, and the sound of her voice.

"Want some help?" she asked, taking the spoon gently from his fingers, and Remus found himself craving the touch.

"Be my guest," he replied, turning Teddy towards her.

She scooped up a small spoon of porridge and placed it expertly in the baby's mouth, so quickly that the child didn't have a chance to spit it out, as he'd been doing to his father. Two more spoons of porridge followed suit.

"You are clearly better at this than me," he said, ruefully, but she refused to accept his self-deprecation.

"Not at all. It's tricky to feed a baby when they're sitting on your lap. Maybe we could conjure some kind of supportive chair to sit him in when feeding? He's not sitting steady enough for a proper highchair yet."

"Good idea. I shall do that."

They were being overly formal with one another, and he suspected she felt it too, as she rose from her chair, Teddy's porridge finished, and headed for the stove to put the kettle on to boil. He winced as she passed him, and heard the familiar sounds of the kettle being filled, the stove lit, and the metal pot being placed on the burner.

Suddenly, a pair of arms embraced him from behind, around his shoulders, and placing her hands on his chest. He breathed a huge sigh of both pleasure and relief. For a short while, she simply held him, her cheek pressed to his, then she stood and moved to his side, leaning down to touch her lips to his, and he accepted her kiss.

"Good morning, Remus," she whispered, her lips brushing against his cheek, once they had left his mouth.

"Thank you."

It was all he could muster, in reply.

"Are we still …?"

"Of course," he interrupted. "Tonight, if you would like to?"

Orla nodded.

"Then I shall arrange something in the garden. As you know, magical bonding ceremonies are carried out at midnight, and always outside, in order to feel the earth magick beneath your feet. Do you, erm … do you know what to wear?"

"And what not to wear," she answered, a small smile creeping to her lips.

Remus felt a lurch of unexpected excitement, deep in his gut. The day was going to be interminably long.

-xxx-

Orla crept along the hallway, just before midnight, looking through the door of the bedroom that Remus used, seeing Teddy bathed in the soft glow of a conjured nightlight, snoring softly in the deepest of sleeps, as only a baby could do. Leaving the door ajar, she continued down the stairs, not knowing why she was bothering to tiptoe, since Hermione was still at Hogwarts.

Remus had told her over lunch, that Snape had managed to locate Hagrid, hiding out in the Forbidden Forest, and had invited him back to use his hut over the summer holidays, since he would be undetectable. Hermione was no doubt spending time with the giant gamekeeper, and Orla remembered Harry, Ron and Hermione being close with Hagrid, during their Hogwarts years. They had often been caught down at his hut, when they shouldn't have been.

It was a relief, in a way, as it meant that she and Remus could prepare themselves for what they were about to do. He seemed as nervous as she, and Orla supposed it was no small undertaking, to bond yourself to someone, whatever the reasons for doing it.

As she stepped out into the garden and saw the fruits of his handiwork, Orla was suddenly very glad that she had not accepted the offer from Seamus Finnigan, as kind as it had been.

Remus had conjured what appeared to be a small forest glade in the tiny garden, which was unrecognisable from the scrubby patch of grass it normally was.

There were tall trees forming an arbour overhead, and twigs and flora creating a forest floor. The moonlight shone through the gaps in the branches above, and she could see Lupin waiting for her, clad the same as she was, in a plain black robe, his feet bare.

The older wizard had clearly gone to the greatest of efforts into making a believable bonding venue in the safety of the charmed garden, since they were not able to leave the house to visit a real forest. No one could see them, no one could hear them. Orla stepped towards him, suddenly very conscious of her nakedness beneath her long robe, but that was the custom of a magical bonding, you came to the ceremony unclothed except for your robe.

"Don't be nervous," he whispered, taking her hand as she drew near enough. "Nothing has to happen tonight."

"Are you sure about this, Remus?" she asked, concerned. "You are so kind, but you do not have to do this unless you truly wish to."

By way of an answer, he swirled his cypress wand, conjuring a length of ribbon in the air, which wound itself around both their wrists and handfasted them together.

"I am certain. Do you wish me to begin?"

Orla nodded, her throat suddenly closing up not only with nerves, but also with emotion at what this wizard was prepared to do for her. Their wrists were fastened together, but loose enough for him to take hold of her hands.

"I, Remus John Lupin, offer myself as your husband to bond. I fasten my hand to yours, as a sign of my fidelity and commitment."

His eyes were open and honest, and brimming with a level of genuine emotion that she hadn't expected to see.

"Now you," he prompted, giving her a small smile.

"I, Orla Rose Malfoy," she began, hating the name she was forced to use, "offer myself as your wife to bond. I fasten my hand to yours, as a sign of my fidelity and commitment."

A flurry of what seemed like fireflies encircled his head, before moving across to her own, joined, looking like they were wearing two flowered crowns. They dissipated after a few seconds.

"I would like to add a little more to our vows," he said. "Orla, I bring to this bonding my love for my wife Dora, for a part of her shall always live in me. My love for her will not lesson the love I hope we will share, and you should not feel threatened by it."

"I understand," she replied. "I really do."

A few tears spilled from her eyes, thinking of Draco, his bravery, right to the end, and his declaration of love for her before those that would do him harm. Of course they would never have lasted, once their genetic connection was revealed, but he had been … very special to her. She was almost sorry that he was not the father of her baby.

"I also bring to this bonding, my son, Edward. It is my wish that you accept my son as your own, to love him as I do, to provide him with a mother's love. He already loves you, Orla," he added, less formally, and with a smile.

His gesture at involving his son gave her an idea.

"Can I add something, too?"

"Of course."

"I also bring to this bonding, my daughter, yet to be born. She shall be named Hope, for that is what I feel when I look at our situation, and our world. I hope for a better future. It is my wish that you accept my daughter as your own, to give her the protection of your name, to provide her with a father's love."

Orla was surprised to see tears flowing freely down his cheeks.

"Hope," he said, quietly. "Hope was my mother's name. You could not possibly have known it, and it is a perfect choice. The child you carry within you will be the second witch to bear the name of Hope Lupin."

"I'm glad you like it."

"I bond with you, Orla Rose Malfoy, of my own free will, and call upon the earth magick beneath our feet to confirm our bond," he announced, and Orla felt the cold ground tingle underneath her bare toes.

"I bond with you, Remus John Lupin, of my own free will, and call upon the earth magick beneath our feet to confirm our bond."

The enchanted ribbon unfurled itself from their wrists, and dissipated into thin air, as the firefly coronas had done. Without either of them touching their wands, a scroll appeared, alongside a sparking golden quill.

"This is the Ministry's recognition of our bond. We need to sign it."

They took turns with the golden quill, and Orla signed the name of Malfoy for the first and last time in her life. The quill then disappeared, but the scroll remained, hovering in the air between them.

"That will remain with us," he explained, looking past her, an embarrassed look on his face. "Until our bond is … confirmed."

A red flush spread up his neck and bloomed onto his cheeks.

"You mean, consummated?"

"Magical bondings are usually consummated immediately, hence the lack of clothing, and a private, midnight setting. But Orla, there is no rush. That scroll can remain in the house until you are fully ready, I will not pressure you."

"I will not pressure you, either," she replied.

He looked confused, and then noticed the smile that had crept to her face.

"May I?" he asked, tentatively.

"You certainly may."

Remus took a step towards her, closing the distance between them, and then dipped his head. Orla met him halfway, leaning forwards and pressing her lips to his, feeling the soft tickle of his short beard and moustache. He stroked her hair as he kissed her, white-blonde waves that she had worn loose and was spilling down her black robe. He was utterly gentle, and his hands felt large and capable.

She ran her hands down his broad chest, allowing her fingers to slip between the opening of his robe, and felt the hair on his chest as she explored.

"Orla," he groaned, pulling back from the kiss. "It has been a long time for me, and I am a great deal older than you. This may not be … quite what you expect."

"I'm not expecting anything," she whispered, pushing her other hand beneath his robe. "This is brand new, between us both. Do what you would like to."

Her words must have released something inside him, for he reached forward and unfastened the clasp on her robe with one smooth movement, allowing it to drop to the forest floor that he had conjured, before looking upon her nakedness with approval, and desire. Lupin reached out his hands and touched her shoulders, trailing them down her front, over her breasts and nipples, and down to her stomach, making her gasp.

Taking her around her the waist, he helped her sink to the floor, onto her discarded cloak, upon which he must have cast some kind of cushioning charm, for it felt supportive and comfortable, and then moved on top of her, unfastening the clasp of his own cloak so it was completely covering them both. They were enveloped between their own magical robes.

Directly above her, she could feel his bare erection pressing against her mound. He stroked her face, slipping his arm behind her head.

"You are a beautiful girl, inside and out," he told her. "I shall endeavour to be worthy of you."

Orla felt Remus lower his other hand and guide himself inside her, feeling full as he pushed his way in, slowly and carefully. For a moment, they gazed at one another, seemingly both in the same disbelief that they were actually doing this. Finally, he began to move, wonderfully, inside her.

"You may have asked me to help you, Orla," he murmured. "You may have asked me to save you. But I think … I think, you may have just saved me, in return."

As they coupled in their own private forest glade, moving together under a magical cloak beneath the white glow of the half-moon, neither of them noticed their marriage certificate roll itself up and dissipate, returning itself to the Ministry archives as irrefutable proof of a fully-consummated bond.