NOTE
CONTENT WARNING for violence against a child, with sexual undertones (implied, not explicit). If you do not want to read this, skip the paragraph in the italicised dream which begins "The boy's face was completely covered" and ends "the monster's hand."
There is also fully consensual sexual content towards the end of the chapter.
69. Safe House
Our arrival prompted a ruckus of panicked clucking from the chickens in the small wooden hen house, and loud bleating noises from the two goats who stood under the lean-to beside the small cottage. We had landed in a muddy field, just outside the copse of tall, naked black trees which sheltered the little stone house where Fleur's grandmother lived. Flat and featureless fields surrounded the trees and the house on all sides, and pale clouds rushed in from the far-off sea, gliding across the starry moonlit sky.
Teddy was crying against my shoulder, his breath hot in the wet air. I held him safely off the cold wet ground, my wrist aching as I braced the palm of my hand against the squelching, bitter mud. My whole body shook from dizziness, and I only anticipated my sickness a moment before it happened. I heaved and coughed, and then gasped, spitting the slimy yellow bile from my mouth.
Teddy was crying harder, and I very carefully sat back on my knees, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. I had no strength with which to comfort him. Still shivering, I tried to reach around my back to untie the scarf which was keeping him flush against my chest.
"Let me take him!" Fleur said, approaching through the mud from somewhere to my right. Victoire still swaddled close to her, softly cooing, Fleur reached down to untie the scarf and I eased Teddy onto the ground. He stopped crying as he found himself able to stand, and I sank forward onto all fours again.
I scourgified the bile, and directed a stream of water from my wand into my mouth, rinsing the nasty taste away. Teddy curled his tiny fingers into my hair and tugged on it questioningly.
Severus was just managing to stand up, nearer the copse of trees. I watched him, expecting him to disapparate, but he did not. He walked further out into the field and began casting protective spells, one shimmering stroke at a time. Slowly, they would form a dome over the house and trees.
Yellow light entered the darkness as a door in the back of the cottage was opened, and the shape of a short and thin old woman appeared in its frame.
"Mémé!" Fleur cried, and the woman called something in French through the trees.
"Will you be alright?" Fleur asked me.
I nodded, my body gradually calming and adjusting to stillness.
She leaned down and picked up my carpet bag from where it had landed in the mud a short distance away. "I will take it inside. Come!" she beckoned to Teddy, and he accidentally tugged my hair as he disentangled his fingers, before following Fleur and Victoire towards the house.
Slowly sitting up again, I touched my wand to my belly to check the baby. The wand-tip again glowed white. Pressing my hand into the mud, I slowly rose to standing. The wind was harder than I'd realised on the ground, and I felt very exposed in the openness of the landscape as it whipped at my hair and seeped through the stitches of my jumper.
Severus had already made quite a bit of progress on the protective charms. I walked over the mud and flattened dead grass to the opposite side of the trees, and began to cast my own, stroking my wand across the air. Protego Totalum… Repello Inimicum… Slowly I made my way clockwise around the trees until my spells and Severus's began to merge together in the sky over the house.
After many minutes in the cold and the wind, it was finished.
Something in the relief of it, in the completion, made me break down into tears. The knowledge that, for the first time in many hours, there was nowhere else to go; no need to run any further. I sank into a squat and buried my head in my hands, sobbing my heart out.
I heard Severus's footsteps in the mud as he walked around the edge of the trees to me. He bent down beside me and held me, pulling me to my feet and embracing me tightly against his body. He was so warm, and I wanted to melt weakly against his strength, into his safe scent. But something inside of me wouldn't allow it. I could not forget how he had betrayed me earlier, and couldn't help holding on to my anger. If I didn't, I would lose myself.
"Don't touch me!" I begged him, sobbing. I forced my arms between our bodies and pushed him away desperately. He let go and let me stand away from him, his face devastated and his eyes narrowly rescued from total blackness by the small yellow light provided by the windows of the house.
Looking at him, I remembered how softly he had kissed me before he had left me alone in Grimmauld Place. And the complete betrayal which had followed.
I knew I should have been mindful of the volume of my voice. I wanted to make a good impression on our host. But at that moment, I didn't care. I was filled with an exhausted anger and it unleashed itself of its own volition, in an anguished shout. "Don't ever put me in a cage like that again!"
Severus flinched at the painful desperation in my voice. "I only did what was best for you," he pleaded.
"No! You did what you wanted! You have no right to control me!"
He was receding into himself, and spoke in a controlled tone. "I was keeping you safe."
"Don't patronise me! I don't need protection!"
My emotions were quickly crossing the boundary of this single situation, and into the chaotic battleground of our entire relationship. Tears were still streaming down my face, and I feared he wouldn't take my words seriously because of it. But I could tell by the way he watched me that he was listening.
"Just a few months ago, you had nothing to do with my life! The contract we signed doesn't make me your property! Don't treat me like a… a… a plaything! For you to keep safe! I can take care of myself, and I don't need you!"
The reserve he'd been maintaining shattered now, and he moved forward, reaching out to touch me. But I stepped back, keeping him at arm's length. His eyes were full of misery and desire. "I need you," he said softly. "Wilma… I need you."
I trembled at the depth of his voice, but did not give in. "That's not my fault, or my responsibility."
"I could not bear the thought of you in pain!"
"You trapped me!" I shouted, clutching at my jumper as I struggled and sobbed. "You trapped me!"
"I am sorry!"
"No, you are not! I will not keep forgiving you for unforgivable actions!"
His eyes flared with need and he pulled me against him, his arms ensnaring my waist. "Listen to me! Wilma!"
I pushed the heel of my hand into his chest and writhed away from him, my strength pitiful, so much of it squandered on my sobs. "Let go! Please…"
His arms loosened and I slipped away. Severus's face was drawn and grave, and his eyes were full of true fear and remorse. I could feel in my heart that he'd really meant he was sorry when he'd said it. But I was in no place to forgive him.
I trembled and wiped my tears away with my hands. "I love you," I said, because after everything it remained true. "But I can't look at you right now!"
He didn't stop me when I turned and hurried away through the wind into the trees. I leaned against one of the tall, dark trunks and sobbed until I was finished.
Severus did not follow me, and when I looked back through the trees I could not see him anymore. He must have already left, as I had known he would. Despite the twist of grief in my stomach, I knew it was for the best.
The house looked much warmer and more inviting now. The roof was mossy, and warm fire- and lamp-light flowed through the small window panes. I walked towards it through the trees, past the chickens' wooden house and the lean-to where the two white goats stood watching, and went inside through the back door.
I entered a rustic kitchen, a fire burning in the small fireplace. A row of houseplants stood on the windowsill which looked out on the dark trees, and jars of flour and sugar sat on the wooden worktop. A clock on the wall read nearly midnight.
Teddy and Victoire had been set on a blanket near the warmth of the fire, and were communicating in sounds and gestures. Fleur and her grandmother were both sat at the table, Fleur eating bread and honey, her grandmother pouring a hot mug of tea.
She was an old woman, her hair a perfect snowy white, her face wrinkled but strong-boned. Her lips parted slightly when I entered, and she said something in French to Fleur, before gesturing to the loaf of bread and knife, the jar of honey, the tea. Clearly she was offering these things to me. She had a warm smile on her face, but there was tension around her eyes, and I could tell she had heard the shouting outside, and was concerned.
"No… no, thank you," I said politely, though I was quite sure she could not speak or understand English. I needed to go somewhere alone and hide inside of myself.
"Mémé speaks no English," Fleur said, confirming my thoughts.
The woman stepped forward and offered me her hand. I took it–it was warm and the skin was weathered and strong. I could feel the small old bones underneath her skin. She squeezed my hand and gestured to herself, placing her fingertips to her chest. "Agathe," she said.
I understood that this was her name. "Agathe," I repeated, and she nodded. "Wilma," I said.
"Wilma."
Agathe smiled and nodded, and then gestured again to the tea, and to a chair.
I turned my eyes to Fleur. "I'm sorry. I need to go to bed."
"I will show you to the bath–"
"No," I said, feeling myself on the verge of tears yet again. "I need to sleep."
Fleur translated for Agathe, and the woman nodded and patted my hand before letting it go. I went towards the blanket where Teddy and Victoire were sitting, planning to take the boy upstairs with me, but Fleur put out her hand. "We will take care of both children," she said. "Rest."
I looked at her, absorbing the weight of her kindness, and nodded, unable to speak my gratitude. I knelt down to kiss Teddy goodnight. He made a sound and lifted his little fingers to touch my face. Then I stood, picked up my carpet bag, and followed Agathe upstairs.
She led me to a small bedroom, and pointed down the short hallway to the loo, miming washing her hands. I nodded my head. "Thank you," I said, and the woman nodded and smiled, touching my shoulder gently before going back down the stairs.
I entered the bedroom and shut the door softly behind me. There was a small bed, and a little table with an unlit candle upon it. The simplicity and the quiet was a relief. I looked out the cold window at the endless fields and the sky, across which the clouds continued to pass. The moon was somewhere on the other side of the house, and the clouds were soft and dreamlike in its distant light.
Knowing that the protective dome was overhead and all around was a great comfort. I did not know how long it would be until I saw Severus again, but was too exhausted to harbour any strong emotions about this.
My body moving achily, I stripped off my muddy trousers and my jumper. My baggy button-up shirt was clean, and I climbed into bed wearing it and nothing else, not even taking my hair out of the braid it had been in since early that evening, before the feast at Hogwarts.
The bed was softer than any other bed in the world. My head sank into the pillow and my body became gentle. I pulled the blankets over my naked legs and sleep washed over me in a deep, dragging wave.
It was not quite a dream, though I knew I was asleep.
I was in the corner of a child's bedroom, unable to move anything but my eyes.
The child, a little boy no older than six, was lying in bed wearing dinosaur pyjamas. Glow in the dark stars were stuck to the ceiling above the bed, giving off a faint green light. Toy race cars were set in a neat line beside the door, like shoes. A building block castle stood half-built in the centre of the rug, its dark black shadow the result of a small night light. Drawings in coloured pencil were pinned to the walls, and on the bedside table was a small framed photograph of his parents. The closet door was shut, with a chair sitting in front of it, to keep out the monsters.
A shadow moved outside the window, dark against the curtains. There was a slow, soft sound as the window slid open, and a cold breeze entered the bedroom, gently stirring the curtains. The boy did not awaken.
A long, dark leg appeared through the curtains, and slowly, the arm, the shoulder, the body of Fenrir Greyback stole into the room. Long, tangled grey hair fell over his broad shoulders, and his face was more predator than human as he stepped forward and loomed over the bed.
Looking.
Smelling.
The boy stirred, and opened his eyes. He looked at the monster at the foot of his bed, and his face decayed into fear. He drew in a sharp breath, but had no time to scramble backward, or to make a sound before Greyback lunged forward and covered the boy's face with one great, hairy hand, making it impossible to scream.
The boy's face was completely covered, his little body thrashing against the mattress. Greyback tore away the blankets and lowered his face to the boy's crotch, the boy's kicking legs as harmful as small twigs. He touched and bit the little boy, massive hands pinning down his face and his belly. When he was through the boy had ceased struggling. Greyback lifted the limp body from the bed, and in the yellow glow of the nightlight, a smear of blood could be seen on the exposed skin of his belly, from where the monster had bitten, and on the little boy's cheeks, blood his own teeth had drawn from the monster's hand.
Holding the child under one arm, Greyback escaped through the window into the night.
The room was empty.
There was an awful minute, silent and still, except for the cold night breeze in the curtains.
Then, a faint sound from elsewhere in the house. Quiet footsteps made their way down the hallway, coming closer, and the bedroom door opened with a very soft whine. It was the boy's mother. Her smaller, younger, photographed face smiled in shadow from the bedside-table picture frame. She had come to check on him. Awoken in the night by some instinct.
But she was too late. She saw the blood on the empty bed, and the open window. Her eyes went wide with terror, and her shaking hand lifted to her mouth as she inhaled.
I woke up to the sound of my own screams. My shirt was soaked through with sweat, and my naked legs were twisted in the damp sheets. My heartbeat had bled out of me and was making the walls of the dark little room throb. I was screaming too hard and too ceaselessly to breathe. I was being strangled by terror.
The door flew open and Severus rushed to my side. I thought I was still dreaming as he wrapped his arms around me, not caring that I was soaked with sweat. I clung to him shamelessly, needing him.
My screams deflated slowly into hoarse gasps and sobs, my body shivering and my teeth chattering violently. The room was spinning and I clung to Severus to keep from being dragged into the endless circles. He was speaking, but I couldn't decipher his words. The images of the dream were filling my head like thick blood, obscuring and choking every other thought.
Fleur and Agathe appeared in the open doorway wearing long nightdresses, and down the hallway Victoire was crying. I tried to apologise but no words could break through the barrier of my uncontrollable wails and moans.
Severus picked me up, pulling me free from the shackles of the twisted sheets, and held me against his chest as he carried me down the hallway to the bathroom. I hooked my elbows around his neck as he lowered me onto the cold toilet seat, and he gently manoeuvred out of my grip in order to fill the bath. My ears were ringing, and my vision still throbbed with my heartbeat. I shook with sobs as I remembered the boy's bloody little belly. Greyback's hand pushing his face into the pillow.
That happened to Remus.
Severus unbuttoned my sweaty shirt and pulled it away from my skin. Then he held me against him as he took off my knickers. I had no ability to react or feel embarrassed as he picked me up again and lowered me into the bath.
The water was freezing cold, and I clung to Severus, gasping and whimpering until I was completely submerged from the neck down.
Then, finally, the world became more clear. I could feel my body, and I could breathe, even if my breaths came in sharp, painful gasps.
I was still shaking, and my shock wouldn't allow me to make eye contact, but my panic had ebbed enough that I could hear Severus's words. "Should I look?"
I understood what he meant, and managed to nod my head, shivering. He placed a hand gently on my sweat-soaked hair, holding my head as his presence entered my mind.
I'd already known that the dream was real. Like the one I'd had the night Andromeda had been attacked. But the look on Severus's face confirmed it.
He withdrew from my mind. "Do you have any sense of where this happened?"
I shook my head. All I had known was that I was inside of a room, inside of a house. Somewhere.
Severus continued to support my head as he cast his patronus. I only half-heard him as he reiterated the vision to the light blue doe, and then sent it on its way.
The water was starting to numb my skin. It was a good feeling. I wanted to let my eyes slip closed, but knew that if I did I wouldn't be able to escape the awful images, the burden of which Severus now shared.
Minerva's patronus entered the small bathroom. I didn't hear the first part of the message, but when I heard the words "Hogwarts Express" I forced myself to focus. I shifted in the bath, clutching the edge of the tub as I listened to Minerva's voice. "...arrived in London at five o'clock, half an hour ago. I am sorry, Wilma, if you are listening, but Miss Elson could not be located. I am certain she arrived there on the train, but she somehow slipped through the guard. The Ministry is trying to track her using the trace, but they've not had any…"
I stopped listening, my ears ringing again as I leaned back into the cold water. The numbness which had begun to pervade my body now pervaded my heart and my mind as well. I looked up at the small window. It was still dark outside, and the bruised clouds were moving swiftly across the sky.
Minerva's blue cat disappeared and Severus, seeing that I was shivering, slowly cast warming charms on the bathwater until feeling began to return to my limbs. He silently laid his hand on my naked shoulder, watching me though I still couldn't return his gaze.
"I am going to get you fresh clothes," he said.
I nodded my head weakly. He moved a bar of soap closer to me and stood up, leaving me alone.
It was still some time until I could move. Victoire had stopped crying, and the house was silent except for an occasional creaking from the wind. My hand moved slowly towards the bar of soap, clutching it tightly to keep it from slipping into the water. I slowly lathered my hands, cleaning the sweat from my body and my face.
Severus set a small pile of clothes inside the door, along with my wand, but did not enter to sit with me.
I washed my hair and, still trembling feverishly, lifted myself out of the soapy bath. I used my wand to drain the water. I dried my body with a towel and dried my hair with my wand. I leaned against the wall as I slowly pulled on the dry clothes.
Severus was sitting down in the bedroom, facing the window. He had cleaned and made the bed. I stood silently by the door for a moment before realising I was in the same corner of the room from which I'd observed the attack in my vision. I slowly walked across the floor to the other corner, and the change of perspective helped to ease my sudden nausea.
I looked at Severus's back for a long time before I spoke. My voice came out weak and small with shock, its strength spent on my earlier screams and sobs. "I thought you were going to leave."
He didn't respond, or move. He seemed to be looking down, studying something in his hands. My body was still shivering, and I moved slowly as I went to him, and saw what he was holding.
It was the little drawstring pouch in which I'd put Remus's ring months ago. Severus hadn't opened the pouch, but his fingers had found the object inside and traced its shape, and I knew he knew what it was. I realised that, in my haste to pull clothes from my chest of drawers back home, I must have accidentally thrown this into my carpet bag as well.
My stomach sank, and I couldn't speak. He was slowly turning the little drawstring bag in his hands, running the tip of his thumb around the circle of the wedding ring.
"I knew you still loved him," Severus said, his voice painfully matter-of-fact. "But I did not know you carried this with you."
"I don't," I said, my voice still quiet, wavering like a candle flame in a breeze. "I didn't mean to bring it. It was at the bottom of the drawer… it must have caught on the clothes, or…"
There was a long silence. He continued to hold the drawstring bag, but he did not open it.
When he spoke his tone was dark. "You would never have married me if not for the law."
The air was tight, with no room for lies. "No," I said. "I wouldn't have."
"Would you have married him?"
"I would have had no reason–"
"Would you?"
"I don't know," I said honestly. I remembered Remus's reluctance during our first meeting, his clear anxieties even after we'd married; that I was too young, that he was too broken. "He would never have married me."
"But you'd have sooner married him than me."
I was silent.
Severus hid the drawstring bag in one of his hands, closing it into a gentle fist. "I have not forgotten that, between the two of us, he was your first choice."
"Because he needed me," I protested softly. "He would have had no one."
"And if you find him again, then I will have no one."
His voice had taken on a bit more force. Had my body not been too exhausted to do so, I would have grown tense. "No…"
"What would you do?"
I remembered the question he'd asked me in the graveyard in Godric's Hollow months before. "If he came back, what would you do?"
The deepest question of Severus's heart had not changed, and neither had my answer. "I don't know."
He looked up at me then, his face still and his eyes guarded. He reached out to me and pulled me closer to him. I submitted, letting him wrap his arms around my waist, letting him press his face against my belly. His voice was muffled by my shirt, and I sensed that he was suddenly on the verge of tears. "You are carrying my child."
"I know," I whispered.
"Do you?" It sounded as though someone were strangling him, and I flinched as I recalled Greyback's giant hand pushing into the boy's face. "Do you understand what it means?"
"It wasn't my choice, Severus."
He was silent for a long moment. Then his arms released me and he turned away again. His hands sat open in his lap and I reached down and took the small drawstring bag. I turned from him and knelt down to the floor, burying it deep inside of my carpet bag again. I wondered what might have changed had I been the one to discover it, not Severus.
Still knelt on the floor, I turned and looked at him, his figure dark and sad. "I don't want you to be bitter," I said quietly.
He made a low sound, the ghost of a chuckle. "If only your desires could dictate reality."
He stood up, and I did the same–but much too quickly.
At once my head was burning with pain; throbbing, dark red pain. I recalled the awful headache I'd had after the vision of Andromeda's attack. This one was far worse. My whole body weakened and I leaned against the wall, clutching my head and holding my breath. Blue stars swirled behind my eyes.
Severus's hands pressed into my shoulders, apologetic and loving. "Another headache?" he asked, understanding at once.
"Yes," I whimpered.
I gave myself over to him as he led me to the bed and helped me to lay down. I kept my hands over my eyes. Everything ached as he sat down against the headboard and guided my head into his lap. He supported my head with his hands, and carefully massaged the back of my neck, helping some of the pain and sudden tension to ease. I felt him touch his wand gently to my forehead and mutter a spell, which helped just slightly–but the throbbing pain remained. I felt tears welling in my closed eyes at this sudden tenderness, which remained in spite of the painful words which had passed between us moments ago.
There was a soft knock on the door and Fleur stepped in. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked.
"I need numbing potion," Severus said. "If not that, anything for pain." His voice was soft and gentle and soothing, and I held fast to the sound and the faint vibrations which ran through his fingertips.
"I will ask Mémé," Fleur said, and her footsteps sounded down the hallway, down the stairs. It felt as though a long and laborious day had passed, although it was not yet sunrise.
Severus was silent, continuing to pull the tension from the sensitive muscles of my neck with his fingers. "I love you," I said, my voice shaking as I began to helplessly cry, tears leaking from my closed eyes. "I'm sorry for everything. I love you. I promise."
"Shh," Severus said.
Fleur came in again with a vial of something bitter. It was nothing compared to the immediate relief that Severus's numbing potion would have brought, but it helped a bit. Severus stayed with me, massaging my neck and casting frequent spells to relieve the aching, until finally the pain sulked away.
I cried bitterly, the trauma of the dream returning. I didn't want to experience it again, but I knew that I would, possibly every night, without the dreamless sleep potion I had come to rely upon. I wondered if Trelawney had been right–if I would have been able to anticipate some of the awful events of the last month if I had stopped taking the potion. But it was too late now, and in my dark moment of desperation I wanted nothing more than to have my supply of it at hand again.
"Was there dreamless sleep in the cupboard in Grimmauld Place?" I asked Severus, when my tears had died down enough. He had brought me up to sitting, and I was leaning back against his chest while he gently rubbed my temples.
"Yes," he said. "But I left it there… for you."
There was a long pause. I nodded my head slowly. I remembered the vial he had taken out of the cupboard and then put back. The significance of the moment had been lost on me until now.
I knew he loved me, even though he often showed it in the wrong ways.
As we sat without speaking, I understood that he was not going to leave me again. At least, not quite as soon as I'd expected. And this comforted me deeply.
Dawn spread peacefully through the sky around seven o'clock. It was the first day of November, and the clouds were silvery in the light of the cold, fog-shrouded sun. Webs of dew and mist hung over the treetops, and the wind cut through the invisible dome which sheltered the small house.
Fleur was cooking eggs when I went downstairs, leaving Severus alone to bathe. I was very hungry, but the smell triggered my nausea, and no sooner had I sat down in one of the chairs at the table than I had to excuse myself. I ran out the open back door and made it into the trees before I bent over and was sick.
I spat and rinsed my mouth with my wand, and stood for a minute among the damp tree trunks, breathing in the cold wet air. After a minute I turned and walked back towards the house.
Agathe was sitting on a low stool milking one of the goats under the lean-to. I hadn't noticed her in my rush from the kitchen door, but her eyes watched me knowingly as I approached through the mud, avoiding the pecking chickens. She beckoned me closer, and I watched as she milked the goat, the white milk shooting from the udder into the tin pail. She then smiled at me, and reached out her hand, pointing at my belly.
I understood the wordless question, and nodded. She touched her wrist, as though tapping a watch, and from the wondering lift of her eyebrows I knew she wanted to know how many weeks along I was. I held up eight fingers, and she nodded her head. She raised one finger, a signal to wait. I watched while she finished milking the goat, and then followed her inside.
She carried the pail of milk to the cooktop and poured it into a large pot, starting the flame with a tap of her wand. I watched as the milk heated and became frothy, and then Agathe poured the milk into a jug, which she set into a basin of cold water. When the process was through, she poured some of the cooled milk from the jug into a bowl, and handed it to me, again pointing at my belly with a smile.
I nodded my understanding, and thanked her silently before sitting down at the table. The smell of Fleur's eggs was more manageable now, and I slowly sipped the sweet milk from the bowl, sensing that it was, indeed, good for the baby.
The children woke up. Fleur nursed Victoire, and I gave Teddy food, including some of the goat's milk, which made him giggle and turned his hair white. Soon the two children were again sitting on their blanket in front of the warm fire, babbling to each other. I sat watching them for many minutes.
Even with two of them before me, I couldn't quite fathom that the small seed inside of me would grow into a complete small person. The very thought of labour terrified me. The thought that I would slowly swell, unable to put it to a stop, or to prolong the wait until I was ready.
Again the images from the vision came over me, and I flinched, shutting my eyes. How had the world become so dark? I couldn't have a child at a time like this.
I thought of Tonks. How much bravery it must have taken to carry Teddy through the chaos and stress of the war. Surely I didn't have enough to live up to her example.
I wished that I could rewind the clock. Spin back over the sea to the Burrow. Be swept from Grimmauld Place to the Three Broomsticks through the ashes and soot of the floo network. Run backwards through the rain and the dark passageway. Back, and back, and back. To the top of the hill, the cloudy day Severus proposed. To the meadow that surrounded Remus's cottage. To the kitchen table, the morning we received our letters from the ministry…
But how far would I go? I would have to stop at some point. How much would I undo? How much would I give up?
Severus came downstairs from his bath, and my eyes flickered up to him when he entered the kitchen. He had transfigured his black clothes into trousers and a turtleneck shirt. There was a moment of silence and stillness between us. I was certain that, in the moment before I'd noticed him, he'd seen all of my thoughts written plainly upon my face. And I looked down at the table in shame.
In the other downstairs room there was a beautiful baby grand piano, and Fleur played on it all afternoon. I recognised some of the pieces that Ginny used to play at home. Fleur also seemed to have a particular liking for Frédéric Chopin.
The music was pretty, and calming for the first few minutes. But after a time, the cyclical, neverending sense of it became maddening. My wand was itching, wanting nothing more than to find and harm Fenrir Greyback. I also frequently thought of Lucius Malfoy, imagining where he might be and what he might be doing. My night with him had been the first night I'd owned my wand, and no small part of its vengeful energy was directed towards him.
I at least had Teddy to distract me, but Severus spent hours pacing around the perimeter of the protective dome, having nothing to occupy him but his thoughts and concerns. I watched him through the windows. In the last war, he'd rarely had a quiet moment, always taking part in something on one side or the other. Now he was expected to get by without doing anything at all.
I could see his side. I, too, wanted to be with the others, actively tracking down the people who posed a danger to the safety of our world. But I knew it was safer to remain here, and that if Severus did sneak away, he would be putting himself in tremendous danger.
We received another patronus in the evening, from Molly this time. No progress had been made in terms of finding the fugitives, though there had been one promising potential sighting of Macnair, on his own, outside of Sheffield. Meanwhile, there had been ten more attacks by the creatures, and the two Legilimens who had been brought to St. Mungo's had unfailingly come up against the same obscuring fog as Severus had.
Severus retreated behind a closed door upstairs after hearing this news, and did not emerge until dinner time.
Fleur and I built a fort, a sheet hung over the backs of chairs, for the children to sit underneath. Fleur cast small blue Beauxbatons butterflies to flap around under the sheet, and Teddy and Victoire stared up at them in awe, more quiet than they'd been all day.
The scene was tender, but I could remain there only so long. I could sense Severus's tension through the ceiling, and eventually had to escape into the trees outside, and sit on my own in the cold.
That night's hard rainfall left the windows glittering in the darkness.
I'd put Teddy to bed downstairs, and the house was now quiet, enveloped inside the rushing sound of the rain.
There were maybe two more hours before my body would tire, and give in to sleep. I was warding off the inevitable, sitting in bed with the candle lit, looking at a French book I'd brought from downstairs. I had no idea what the story was, or what the sentences said. But I liked the shape of the words, and the smell of the paper. The book was a refuge as the dark rain flew down outside.
My ears pricked at the sound of a voice somewhere. Half-imagined, under the distant blackness beyond the windowpane.
"Wilma."
It was Remus's voice again, but it did not repeat itself. And I knew it was only my buried anxieties, and the late hour, rather than a repeat of what had happened at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
There was a soft creaking in the hallway, followed by a soft knock on my door. Closing the book, I quietly rose from the bed and crossed the floor in the long, warm socks I'd brought from the Burrow.
I opened the door to see Severus standing there. He appeared to want to speak, and I opened the door wider to allow him inside, closing it quietly behind him. I cast muffliato so our voices wouldn't wake the children.
"Are you alright?" I said, to break the silence.
He was silent for a moment. It was a ridiculous question. Neither of us was exactly alright. The long hours of the day had taken their toll, and today was only the first of what could prove to be a great many.
"I could put you to sleep," Severus offered, speaking softly despite the muffling charm. "If you wish."
I recalled how he had done so, after finding me in Grimmauld Place in January. The sleep had been powerful and completely dreamless.
It was tempting. I had been anxious all evening about going to sleep tonight, fearing another awful vision without the help of the dreamless sleep potion.
And yet I knew that even though I desired it, I wouldn't accept it. If such dreams were being somehow planted in my mind, and had the potential to be helpful in finding those who had escaped from Azkaban, I didn't think it was right to shut them out. Especially when they were my only way to contribute to the fight.
They were torturous, yes. But I wouldn't seek relief from them if my ignorance would mean pain for others.
"No," I said. "If something wants to come… it's not right to stop it."
"Very well," Severus said.
The wind and rain were constant and soothing outside the window, water trickling down the glass. We looked at one another quietly, neither of us moving. I felt my breath and my heartbeat as I watched his dark eyes for a sign…
He stepped forward carefully, and I sank against him, lifting my mouth and receiving his kiss. His hands and his lips were so tender, devastatingly so. I felt how deeply he regretted our recent difficulties in the way he held me, wrapping his arms around me and running his hands softly down my back.
For a moment I questioned what I was doing, afraid to give myself over to intimacy and nakedness after all of the upheaval that the last day and night had brought. But my body was growing warm and full of desire. I wanted to surrender; to lose myself, moaning in his arms.
No harm could come from being with him. We needed to find a way to be close. Here was a way. Now.
I gave in completely, pulling him closer in return and kissing him gently. My breath trembled when his tongue touched my lips, and I tenderly nibbled his lips, delighting in the shudder that rolled through his body. I pulled him to the small bed and we laid down, Severus holding my hips as I straddled him, slowly grinding my centre against him. I felt my core growing hot, and my breath came in quick, desperate waves as his fingers skillfully stroked the backs of my thighs.
I spread my knees wider as he began to unbutton my shirt, and I felt my foot accidentally brush the French book from the bed onto the floor with a quiet thud. I laughed softly, and Severus shifted my shirt away from my shoulders, taking in the sight of my slightly swollen breasts.
His breath had grown laboured, and I moaned gently when he rolled us over, grinding his hips against me with a perfect balance of roughness and gentleness as his hands cupped my breasts, his palms deftly hardening my nipples. I felt myself trembling, a faint sweat breaking out across my skin, and he lowered his open mouth to take mine again.
I arched my back and reached down to take off my trousers, tossing them and my knickers onto the floor. Severus's hand slid down from my breasts over my belly and his fingers pulled perfectly on my sensitive folds, making me pant. I felt myself growing wet already, and watched the mounting desire in his eyes as he pushed two fingers into me, curling them and caressing my walls, making my hips tremble and roll.
My hands slipped under his shirt and roamed over his back, touching the little places which made something inside of him stir. Then I finally let my fingers bury themselves in his hair. A ripple of pleasure and need rolled through his body, and as I felt it, it became my own. Our hot breath surrounded us, and I trembled as his fingers worked inside of me, making me bite my lower lip and hum.
I stroked his back again and pulled his shirt over his head, touching his chest, my fingers slipping over his abdomen towards his trousers. He gave a jolt and gasped deeply as my hand crept lower and found his growing hardness. I ran my palm along his length, and touched my fingertips gently to the warmth of his tip. His jaw tightened and his eyes closed, his nostrils flaring slightly with his effort.
I undid the button of his trousers and he rolled over, lifting his hips slightly as I pulled them off. I stroked his exposed legs, admiring his body, my legs spread against the sheets and my need glistening. I saw his eyes devouring me slowly, and the throbbing between my legs increased. My breasts were hot, wanting his touch, his tongue.
"Sit up," I breathed.
He did so, and I crawled up against him, running my lips over his collarbones and lowering my head, pressing my tongue to the tip of his hardness. His hands found my own and gripped them tightly as I boldly slipped the beginnings of him into the warm wetness of my mouth. He twitched and moaned, and I withdrew, kissing my way up the centre of his torso. I stroked the back of his head and led him gently down towards my chest. He understood, and his strong hands supported my desperately arching back as his tongue circled my nipples, and he softly took each of my breasts fully into his mouth. I groaned, grateful that I'd cast the silencing charm on the door earlier, and let my head fall back, whimpering blissfully as I savoured his attentions.
His fingers found the growing slickness of my folds and began to move in firm circles. I found myself grinding mindlessly against his fingers, gasping and trembling as his other hand found my mouth, tracing my lips and touching my teeth, my tongue. I pulled myself closer to him, hovering over his swollen member and wrapping my hand around him. His eyes deepened and I bit down gently on his knuckles as I guided him up into my warmth, slowly lowering myself until he was deep inside of me.
We sat there, connected, panting quietly under the sound of the hard rain outside. He was so hard, so big, and my hips trembled weakly as I began to rock back and forth on top of him, my lightly sweating arms wrapped around his back. His mouth lowered to my shoulder and he sucked on my skin gently, eliciting a low moan from me. His fingers kept rubbing deep circles in time with my hips and the throbbing of my heartbeat, making me pant desperately. I nibbled on his ear and he pressed his mouth to mine, groaning freely into my throat. The touch of his skin, the nearness of his heart, made me feel strong again.
My hips ached with effort and, sensing Severus's desire to take over, I let myself soften against him. Pulling me tight and close, and never leaving me, he leaned to the side and gently settled me onto my back. The weight of his hips pressed me down and I gave in to the lovely sensation as he pushed my knees wide and deepened his thrusts. His hands found mine again and I sighed and moaned as he slipped his fingers between mine, holding my hands against the bed. His tongue traced my open mouth and I arched my back, helping him grind against the nub of my pleasure with each stroke. We were both sweating and shaking, the light of the single candle throbbing across our damp, naked skin. One of my hands broke free of his grip and went desperately down to his lower back, pulling him deeper, harder…
He moaned deeply, and I felt him nearing the edge just as I began to loosen. My breath and my blood desperately carried a hot and itching anticipation through every part of my body. Severus wrapped his arm underneath my waist, lifting it, and I gasped with every breath, hanging on to his gaze with all I had.
"Do what you need!" he said, his voice deep and yearning, his body on the cusp of finishing. I obeyed, my hand slipping between our bodies and rubbing against my nub, just enough. Severus lowered his mouth to mine and we came together, shaking violently, our hips thrusting together as we writhed and moaned into each other's mouths.
"Fuck!" I gasped, as he filled me. My hips shook uncontrollably and his arm wrapped more tightly around my waist. "Severus, fuck!"
I moaned incoherently as my core incessantly tightened around him, my pleasure tugging against his skin. "Oh, Wilma," he groaned, his hips still jolting. "Oh… Oh…"
Afterward we lay naked in one another's arms, wrapped around each other in the small bed. I couldn't stop touching the little sore spot he'd left on my shoulder.
Severus pressed his hand gently into my lower back. "May I stay with you?" he asked.
"Yes," I murmured. "I don't want to be alone."
We held each other quietly for a minute, and I watched the candlelight catching the raindrops on the windowpane.
Our bodies had created a haven in space and time, but inevitably I remembered the length of the oncoming night unfurling in front of me, and the secrets which hunched in wait for me to stumble upon them. I recalled Greyback's violence, and the helpless child, and cuddled closer into Severus's protection.
"If I have another nightmare," I said quietly, "don't wake me early. I need to see it through the end."
Severus soothingly stroked my back. "Alright," he said.
I twisted around and in one breath blew the candle out. Now beyond the window there was only blackness, rain and night. I lay there listening to the weather, and to Severus's calm breathing. I took his warmth into myself as deeply as I could, hoping it would strengthen me against whatever horrors sleep would hold.