Sixth Year, Part 3
Even though her destination was clear, Skyrah almost took the wrong turn twice. What happened in the Prefects' Bathroom remained fresh in her mind. It'd been a scenario she'd dreamt about some nights, the sort her brain conjured when she was most anxious; the sort she'd wake up from in cold sweat, telling herself it'd never come true.
How naive.
Life wasn't fair, nor was it kind.
Yesterday, when the marauders accused Severus and Skyrah of being together, she started to think about how Severus could follow Faith's fate.
"Skyrah, it isn't your fault. It's theirs. Stalkers, the lot of them. How come you always know with whom I am? What spell do you use?"
Potter, of course, bragged about needing no spell. Severus didn't give up. If not a spell, it had to be something else (not a potion, that, he knew) but a magical object: a chart, a book, a scroll… When he mentioned a map, Pettigrew, victim of nerves, let out a giggle and Black barely held back a groan. Severus knew he was onto something and swore to destroy the map.
"Good luck finding it in the first place," Potter taunted him.
Even if the map happened to be in front of Severus, he'd miss it as a magical object. Magic disguised it effectively. The marauders wouldn't deliver him the map, either. Even if Severus obliviated them, the map would guide them to Severus and Skyrah again. An unbreakable cycle had begun. Their secret was out.
Skyrah begged them not to tell anyone about her relationship with Severus. Begging, coming from her, was shocking but insufficient. The marauders suspected the Slytherins met in secret to scheme something. The boys wouldn't be deterred, and Skyrah knew it. Therefore, she mentioned her father.
"If he knew I'm seeing someone, he'd…" She couldn't bring herself to say it.
"Would nobody shelter you if your dear daddy disowned you because you've got a thing for a half-blood? Not good enough for your pure-blood family, is he?"
Severus took Black by his tie and pushed him against the nearest wall, caring very little about the fact he was shorter and physically weaker than Black.
"Don't you dare speak in that tone with my girlfriend."
Black smirked, adrenaline coursing through his system. Infuriating Severus had that effect on him. He didn't attempt to escape Severus. It was unnecessary when he had loyal friends at the ready to fight for him. And so the duel began, one in which all bar Lupin (who stood his ground) and Skyrah participated. Not even when her wand flew directly into Pettigrew's grasp did she act.
As she kept walking under the gaze of the portraits at present, she thought about how her attitude must have unnerved Severus. He'd told her to defend herself, shouted, in fact. Instead, Skyrah had curled onto herself amid chants of curses, covered her ears, and muttered stop repeatedly.
How the duel came to an end shamed her. Everyone was thrown into the air as if hit by a powerful stunning spell. It took them a while to figure the cause out, and when they did, the marauders could barely believe it. Even Severus looked surprised: it wasn't every day that an adult suffered from an accidental magic episode. The distress had to be great for her magical core to react so violently. It was the reason the marauders, or rather, Lupin, began to regard the situation with different eyes and asked her why the idea of others knowing about Skyrah and Severus terrified her and what exactly her father would do to her. Skyrah changed the pleas for threats. She wasn't willing to give Lupin a proper answer. Today, she felt sick with herself, thinking she wasn't any better than her father. He, too, used fear to rule and coerce. It was a low blow to threaten the marauders with revealing Lupin's secret regarding full-moon nights. That didn't stop her in the bathroom.
Black would have reinitiated the duel with a hex directed to Severus if he hadn't been retained by his friends. "You couldn't tell! You were sworn to secrecy!"
"I've kept the secret," Severus replied rather calmly. "She guessed it a year ago, maybe earlier. Instead of blaming on us, your friend should do a better job at hiding his fatigue on certain days of the month."
"Her threat's empty. Professor Dumbledore's on our side. She hasn't got the power here. By the time you wake up tomorrow, the entire school will know about your affair."
"You're an obnoxious son of a—"
Skyrah stopped Severus. Even now, as she got closer to the headmaster's office, she wondered if she'd done the right thing by succumbing. She didn't hesitate before asking the marauders if they'd ever wondered what being under the cruciatus curse was like. They stared at her not quite understanding the change of subject and blaming that on her uncommon emotional stability. Severus knew better, though, and tried to convince her not to reveal anything about her private life. It'd been too late. Her mind had been set. The description of one thousand burning knives, boring into your skin non-stop made them cringe.
"The notion that I've disappointed my father to the point he'd do that to me is even more painful than the curse."
It took a moment for the words to sink in. Pettigrew got nauseous. Potter was so shocked he didn't speak for once. Lupin gave her a look of pity Skyrah loathed. Black folded his arms across his chest and cocked an eyebrow. He was the only one who didn't buy that, for if that were true, her father would be in Azkaban.
"He'd be imprisoned if he weren't so shrewd. The aurors haven't caught him yet. I doubt they ever will."
The inevitable question of who her father was came next.
"Someone who tortures and kills without remorse. If you tell about Severus and me, there'll be blood on your hands."
If she hadn't sounded so serious and afraid, or if she'd lost control of her magic earlier, they'd have believed it was a cruel joke. Instead, she'd rendered them speechless. Pettigrew shrunk in fear behind Lupin at the mention of blood. She scared them further by mentioning Lily, too, would be in danger. Having been friends with Severus was enough for Skyrah's father to target her and use her to hurt Severus, and in turn, hurt Skyrah.
"Father doesn't want me to make friends. The one I made in Ilvermorny, Faith, was poisoned because he didn't approve of her. She was eleven."
At the time, she'd barely noticed, but now she recalled Severus had held her as she spoke of her muggle-born friend, as she held back tears. The display of emotions, so out of character coming from the Riddle the marauders knew, persuaded them. It was alarming to think one of the reasons Faith died was her blood status, the same as Lily's. It was thanks to Lupin and Lily possibly being at risk that they finally promised to keep Severus and Skyrah's secret.
It was Lily, too, who Skyrah stumbled upon on the corridor, though she didn't notice until Lily spoke.
"You're going to apply for the Head Girl post. I've already applied."
Skyrah quickly switched to occlumency mode. It mattered little. She still felt. It pained Skyrah to almost bring Lily to tears with her mean remarks, to treat Lily as if she were speaking nonsense for insinuating some students at school wouldn't feel safe with Skyrah as their Head Girl or for thinking that having a muggle-born Head Girl would be beneficial for the school, especially when no muggle-born had a charge.
"You've been dating Potter for weeks now."
"What does that have to do with—"
"Why him? Potter's bullied your former friend for years."
"I didn't like that."
"And now you do?"
"James stopped doing that." Skyrah didn't correct her. "I don't like that he treated some students badly, but he's changed. He only did it because he thought it was for the best. He's a good boy."
"Your heart forgave Potter but not the one who was your best friend long before you came to Hogwarts. I wouldn't like to have someone like you as a Head Girl, the same way you wouldn't like me to become the Head Girl. We're even."
She made to leave but Lily grabbed her wrist. Skyrah thought Lily would beg her not to apply for the post again. What actually happened shocked her even if her face didn't show it.
"Are you getting close to Severus?"
"What makes you even think that?" Skyrah shook her arm to get rid of Lily's grasp as if she'd been touched by a disgusting creature.
"I don't see why else you'd care about whether or not I've forgiven him. You only care about yourself."
"I care about Slytherin."
"I hope that's true. You broke his heart once. I wouldn't like to see him heartbroken again. I'm no longer there to comfort him."
You could be, Skyrah wanted to say. He'd take you back. Instead, she walked past Lily and turned a corner, laying a hand against the wall. She inhaled and exhaled deeply.
What two intense days.
It wasn't over.
Potter and Black were watching her. She figured they'd used some invisibility potion, for she was fairly certain they hadn't been standing in front of her before. There hadn't been any visible students.
"If what you told us yesterday is true, you'd do as Lily asked of you," snarled Potter.
"We should've never trusted you," followed Black.
He was pointing his wand at her; as was Potter.
"What will you do to me? Send me to the Infirmary so that I can't apply for the post before the deadline? Do it. Don't weep when Evans gets hurt."
"More lies. Yesterday's tears and pleas were for show. A manipulative bitch, that's what you are!"
Neither Black nor Potter expected Black's comment to elicit a bitter laugh from Skyrah.
"This manipulative bitch hasn't taken out her wand yet, and won't do it. She'll go to the headmaster's office to do what she has to do and save your best friend's girlfriend in the process because if her father learns that she's lost the post to a muggle-born, Evans will become a target. He likes torturing them before killing them. It's a game to him. A sick one, but a game nonetheless."
Black and Potter exchanged looks. Potter lowered his wand. Black didn't.
"You still haven't provided proof."
"Proof of what? Proof that we're on the same side of the war? That I broke a family because I befriended a muggle-born witch? How do you expect me to…" An idea popped into her head. "I can't take you to Faith's tomb or introduce you to my father, but I can prove I don't view muggle-borns as inferior or revolting." She turned to Potter. "If Rosier's right, you applied for the Head Boy position. I'll talk to Professor Dumbledore and ask him to choose you. Father wants me to be a model student but never truly help muggle-borns or blood traitors. With you as a Head Boy, I might outsmart him and be the Head Girl this school deserves. If I see someone harassing a muggle-born, I'll look for you so that you can deal with it."
"Wait a moment. Snivelly's girlfriend is offering to collaborate with us?" Black asked Potter.
Skyrah didn't blame them for the shock. She did glower at Black, though, for calling Severus that awful name. "If Potter isn't chosen, the Head Boy won't know about my circumstances and I won't be able to assist muggle-borns." She held up a palm before they could interrupt her. "I know a Gryffindor would think of that as cheating. I trust you see it is for the greater good you advocate for. It isn't like you aren't cheating when you use the bloody map."
Ignoring her last comment and Black's expression of disbelief, Potter said, "A so-called alliance between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor is unheard of, but I'm willing to try."
"I've got a demand that will enhance our alliance, as you put it: stop harassing my boyfriend. You and your friends. If I'm not there, I can't stop anything, and you know why I avoid being seen with Severus. Surely, you must feel that what you do is wrong and can't go on."
"You asked for this collaboration to protect the students and prove everything you said yesterday is true," said Potter. "Snape's a Death Eater wannabe. We must fight people like him."
"Severus isn't like that. You don't know him."
"And you do? Whatever he's told you doesn't have to be true. He's a Slytherin," Black remarked.
"You accuse Slytherins of lying as if it were one of our House traits." She turned to Potter. "Tell me, Gryffindor: is Evans aware you've never stopped bullying her ex-best friend?"
"I'm not a bully."
"I know very well everything you do to Severus."
"He deserves it. I'm protecting the school."
"And you say I'm the unfeeling one? He's a noble boy, and even if he weren't, by mistreating him you become the bad person you believe you're protecting the school from."
Potter couldn't think of anything to say, so he stayed silent, his lips drawing a thin straight line.
"If you love Evans, show it."
"He already does," Black defended him.
Potter was the kind not to hide his feelings for Lily. Impulsive, spontaneous, and loud, it wasn't strange for him to show how proud he was of Lily, and how much he loved her. He'd dedicate Quidditch matches to her and kiss her soundly before class began, not caring if the audience was comfortable with the show or not.
"Not the way it matters. You lie to her not to protect her but to protect yourself, because deep down you know she wouldn't approve of your acts. Either, tell her the truth or stop being a conceited asshole, and you won't have to lie to her in order to stay with her. Become the boyfriend she deserves."
Black was ready to backfire and defend his friend, as always, but Potter stopped him. Skyrah took that as a good sign and continued, her voice much softer now, "I promise to do my best not to harm muggle-borns, including Evans. I owe Faith. I expect you to be worthy of your future Head Boy badge. If you aren't, Evans will learn you've always lied to her. Is that clear?"
Crystal.
Strangely, they didn't reprimand her for relying on threats again. Although Black and Potter promised nothing, the reflective looks on their faces were encouraging enough to Skyrah.
"Why date Snivellus?"
She glowered at Black. She'd deign no response until they took what she said about the bullying seriously.
"Why Snape?" He said through gritted teeth. "You're highly intelligent, a better person than we thought, and very attractive. There's no point in denying it. So why him?"
"Because he's highly intelligent, a better person than you think, and very attractive."
Potter snorted but made no comment.
"He isn't like you, Riddle. He wouldn't work with James to help muggle-borns. He'll hurt you one day," warned Black.
"Remind me of your Divination OWL mark?" she asked sarcastically.
"We can see you're in love with him, no love potions involved. We made a false assumption years ago. This isn't one: he'll break your heart and join the Death Eaters someday."
"You're entirely wrong about Severus."
"Stop being so stubborn. I'm trying to help you."
"Why would you want to help a Slytherin?"
"Because I know what it's like to go against a parent who abuses you."
Her eyes widened in realization. She almost asked him how he could make others feel small when he was so acquainted with the feeling, only to disregard the thought. Hadn't the Ice Serpent done just that? Of all the things they could have in common that was the last one she'd wish on anyone, including her enemies. She was glad Potter spoke next. She didn't know what to tell Black.
"You should talk to the headmaster."
And she did. Professor Dumbledore wondered why she had confided in Potter. She refused to answer and begged him not to inquire further. Surprisingly, he complied. Perhaps he knew it'd be futile to use legilimency on her, or perhaps she'd looked quite desperate. She bet on the latter. At any rate, her fate was sealed. The list of Head Boys and Head Girls in the Trophy Room would soon include two Riddles.
That evening, after a swim in the Room of Requirement, she chatted with Severus. Something flashed in his eyes when she mentioned asking Professor Dumbledore to select Potter as the Head Boy. A knot formed in her stomach at the sight.
"I did it for Evans and the muggle-borns in this school, for you."
"Kindly explain to me how is having my bully as my future Head Boy not going to be prejudicial to me."
"I don't like your tone."
"I don't like it when my girlfriend blatantly betrays me either. I trusted you, only for you to choose Potter. What next? Will you act like Lily and start flirting with him? Maybe Lupin, seeing Potter's taken and you've got a thing for scars."
The look on her face was one he was used to seeing on Eileen and had never meant to inflict on Skyrah. His mouth opened as if he meant to apologize. No sound came out of it other than her name. He took a step closer towards her, hoping she'd understand he hadn't meant to push her away from him. But Merlin, he wouldn't blame her if she left the room and refused to speak to him.
"The only one I want to flirt with is you, Severus, even when your insecurities speak for you."
He relaxed a tad. She was staying. Anybody else would have been offended by the distrust he'd shown. Luckily, Skyrah understood him better than he understood himself.
"Evans is your Faith. I couldn't protect my friend, but I'll protect yours. If that means working with someone I despise, I will. I'd do anything for you. With Potter in charge, she'll be safe. If I see any problem regarding muggle-borns, I'll alert him, and he'll take care of the problem for me. With whom else would I be able to do that?"
"With myself. I've never been attracted to the idea of becoming a Head Boy, but I'd do it for you. I'd do anything for you too. Why haven't you asked me?"
"And be forced to work together during long periods of time in front of others? Keeping our distance in public is crucial to make our relationship work. Even if you thought we could pull it off, Professor Dumbledore's help has got a limit. Two Slytherins as Head Boy and Head Girl wouldn't be accepted by many families. I'm not looking forward to collaborating with Potter, but I must."
"What makes you think that worm will cooperate in the first place?"
"I threatened him. He won't only cooperate. He'll be civil towards you, or else Evans will know he hasn't stopped bothering you. She thinks he's left you alone."
Learning that Potter lied to Lily made Severus feel better and worse at the same time: as Lily had been manipulated by his enemy, her betrayal hadn't been so fragrant.
"Potter listened to me, I reckon. I hope the lying stops." She paused, a small hesitation. "Evans cares about you."
"I like to think she used to."
"She did and still does. I told her nasty things, and I let her know I wouldn't want somebody who forgives Potter but not her best friend to be my Head Girl. It was a mistake. Because of my comment, she suspects I'm getting close to you, or else I wouldn't care at all."
"She's got no evidence. It's only her intuition talking."
"Her intuition's right."
"Nobody will believe her." Severus took her hands in his. "Worry not about Lily, okay? Or about her boyfriend and his friends. We're playing our roles well."
"And if that isn't enough?"
"It is."
"Your life—"
"Has never been better."
Skyrah smirked. "We were arguing a moment ago."
"And still we're together. My life can't be better. You're the reason I smile every day."
That touched her. Her emotions were raw. Maybe that was why she changed the subject back to Lily, to give herself the chance to collect herself.
"Evans told me not to break your heart again because now she wouldn't be there to comfort you. She didn't like me, but she comforted you anyway. There was a time she was good to you." Severus looked away, flooded with memories of Lily taking him out during Hogsmeade days, joking with him, and trying so obviously hard to make him forget about his first heartbreak. "I'm sorry I hurt you so much in our fourth year."
"You hurt, too, and had no one to go to. If I hadn't known the pain of being apart, I wouldn't have fought so much to be part of your life." He stroked her cheek as he always did to make her feel special, the way he'd learned from her.
"Are we okay?" asked Skyrah, putting a hand on top of his, which lingered on her face.
"As long as you forgive me for the tone I took with you and the conclusions I jumped to before giving you the chance to explain. I wasn't being a good boyfriend."
"You aren't angry I was the one who proposed the alliance with Potter?"
"I don't like it but I understand your motives. I'm angry with myself for being such a crass idiot, not with you. You should be furious with me."
"Oh, I was, for about two seconds. Furious and hurt. Then I saw you were ashamed, and the feeling passed. You let fear take control of you and said things you didn't mean. I understand fear and what it does to people. It's hard to overcome. But you've got nothing to fear, okay? I'm not like Evans. I'm not leaving you." Even after the soft kiss she gave him, she kept her arms around him. "The only idiots I've talked to today happen to be two Gryffindors. Working with Potter doesn't enthuse me. If I could, I'd hex his ass for everything he's done to you."
His lips twitched into a lopsided grin. "I'd pay to see that, poor as I am. What an entertaining spectacle that'd be."
Their laughter filled the room, the environment no longer tense with misunderstandings. He couldn't help but bring her to his arms to kiss every single spot of her face.
The room erased any trace of a swimming pool and provided them with sofas on which to lounge and cuddle while preparing for exams.
"Don't you regret studying that?" he said, glancing at the top of her notes, titled Advanced Palmistry. "When you haven't got an inner eye, Divination is imprecise."
"Unlike me, the future fascinates Father more than the past, and so he views Divination as an essential subject to master, with or without an inner eye." Whenever Severus heard about her father and how he dictates her life, he got this helpless feeling inside him. Skyrah saw it in his tight fists. Playfully, she teased him, hoping his mood would brighten. "It isn't so bad. You can't tell me you aren't interested in your love line. Would you like me to analyze it?"
"I don't need a line to tell me that I am exceedingly lucky in the department. I already know."
"It's wonderful how you manage to be romantic even when you grunt."
"I'm not romantic."
"Yes, you are, Mr. I-am-exceedingly-lucky-in-the-department." She took his hand and examined it for a moment, tracing his love line with her thumb and dropping a swift kiss on it that slightly tickled him. The gesture flustered him, and now his cheeks were tinged with a kissable shade of pink. "Your love line agrees with me."
"You're making things up to tease me."
"I'm not." She showed him her notes, full of diagrams that represented palms, or so he deduced. They were squares with five adjoined rectangles of different proportions. Schematic yet understandable. Each palm had a different red line with a respective description of its meaning. She was pointing at a drawing similar to his palm.
He read the description out loud, "Likely to be a great lover: sweet, thoughtful, and romantic." He almost choked at the word 'lover', recalling they had been sexual but hadn't had intercourse yet. Now she'd have high expectations from her likely-to-be-a-great lover. Merlin help him. For now, he'd divert the attention elsewhere, "I reiterate that I'm not romantic, nor am I sweet."
"You're a sweet grumpy who doesn't want to admit he's a romantic even when he doesn't try." The kiss she gave him didn't let him come up with a counterargument. As long as she was happy and kept kissing him like that, he didn't want one anyway. "You should focus on your exam now."
Probably, though why had she changed the subject so fast? "…What does your love line say?"
She made her hand into a fist and brought it to her chest. She made excuses, quoting him about missing cues when you weren't a seer. Something was wrong.
"Skyrah, why are you afraid?"
The answer was, of course, written on her palm. He took her fist, his black eyes soft and encouraging, willing her to trust in him. Her fist unclenched. Locating the line wasn't challenging. It was a long straight line that finished below the index finger. According to her notes, it signified great empathy and strong intuition regarding others' emotions.
"Surprisingly, this description fits you perfectly," he said, pointing to the text. "Can you explain to me how this is scary?"
"You haven't paid notice to this." She indicated the line in her palm was broken. "And this." She pointed to something he didn't quite see.
He slightly turned her hand. There it was: two faint short lines that formed a small cross on her love line. A glance at her notes told him the meaning: emotional trauma for the former one, a love partner with a tendency to die for the latter.
He put two fingers under her chin and raised her head, holding her gaze. "Do you believe that?"
"You said it: the first description is fitting. Why wouldn't the rest be?"
"You believe the emotional trauma refers to your father and Faith; maybe your inability to make friends for a long time as well. The line doesn't tell you how that affects your life. You're overcoming the so-called emotional trauma, or else I wouldn't be here with you."
"What if I'm destined to lose you?"
"I have no intention of dying. Life with you is beautiful." His eyes shone with bliss only she'd ever seen from him. "Six months already. The happiest of my entire life. I won't allow a most likely inaccurate interpretation to frigthen you. Divination gives you vague riddles. The same sentences can suit anybody's life. Can't you be a good lover just because your line isn't like mine? Why doesn't my hand show I've got emotional trauma, too? What about losing people we love? Doesn't it happen to most people, sooner or later? We don't possess an inner eye to decipher the exact meaning. Is it logical to concern yourself with hollow descriptions that are most likely wrong?" He appealed to her reason. She valued that, being a Horned Serpent Slytherin. She wasn't stiff anymore. "Will you remember that as you study for the bloody test?"
Skyrah gave him a rueful grin and nodded.
"Good. I was going to review the cosmic ages, but I'd rather do something else during these few minutes we have left." He lounged on the couch, their notes left aside, and pulled her down with him so that she rested on top of him. "Kiss me? Only if you're agreeable, of course. Snuggling is a perfectly adequate alterngh—"
She kissed him long, sliding one of her hands into his hair, to rub his scalp and play with his hair. Both got so lost in it that they barely heard the clock. Their date had to come to an end. Reluctantly, she got off him and picked up her palmistry notes. As she eyed them, doubt clouded her face. Then she looked at him. A sweet smile that reached her eyes replaced her doubt. That was the moment he knew she didn't need a line to tell her she was lucky in the love department either. She knew for a fact.
"You wanted to see me, Prefect?"
"You can call me Riddle."
"Prefect is fine."
Skyrah signaled for the boy to sit by the lab desk she was at. The Potions classroom still smelled of potion ingredients, having been full of second-year students thirty minutes earlier. Professor Slughorn had allowed Skyrah to use it as a private place to discuss something important with a student.
"I feel inadequate asking you to please let me call you Regulus if you're going to be so formal with me. Black reminds me of somebody else."
Regulus shrugged. "Call me whatever you see fit."
Skyrah raised an eyebrow at his defiant attitude but let it pass. "If you're nervous because you think I'm here to scold you, fear not. You've done nothing wrong."
Regulus relaxed only a bit and finally looked at her from across the desk. He was the spitting image of his older brother, only his hair was shorter and perfectly tidy. His uniform, too, differed from his brother's not only due to their House difference but its neatness. Where Sirius was disheveled and unpreoccupied, Regulus's robes spoke of impeccability.
"The subject I wish to discuss with you is very delicate. I'm going to ask you to please stay until I have said everything I must say, even if it's hard. It's for your sake, Regulus." Rather than calming him down, her speech had the contrary effect on him. His foot kept tapping the floor. "Your brother and I had a confrontation. I learned what I suspect is one of the reasons he left home, apart from the disowning. I only wanted to tell you that if you are also treated the way a son shouldn't, you can seek help. You must, actually. Professor Slughorn would help you if you don't trust the headmaster. Madam Pomfrey as well. I've got no more power other than guiding you to the adults that can lend you a helping hand."
"Is that it? Can I go?"
Skyrah was taken aback. His face had remained impassive, and now his tone of voice was the same. He appeared bored, even.
"Yes, but I'd like you to promise me you will at least think about what I said. If not, I will be forced to tell Professor Slughorn."
"That isn't necessary. I don't know why he told you of all people how our family is. I don't want to know. I'm okay. He's the black sheep of the family, the punching bag. Not me."
There was more to it, or else he wouldn't look like he's always walking on eggshells. He'd socialize more. In all her years at this school, Skyrah had never seen him smile.
"I imagine your parents don't allow you to talk to your brother."
"He isn't my brother anymore."
"That's what they say, not what science does." She paused. "Nor what your heart feels." She waited for him to counter. He didn't. "Salazar Slytherin himself had a certain disregard for the rules. You can meet Black in secret while at Hogwarts. I wouldn't tell a soul. Your parents wouldn't know."
"Don't bother. Sirius detests me."
"His attitude's immature. Sooner or later he'll realize hating on a House, and his own brother because of it, is senseless. You need to talk first, though."
"It goes deeper than House rivalries. I've never thanked him."
"For what?" She immediately berated herself for inquiring about it. "Pardon me. This is very personal. I meant to check on your safety. You're safe at home. My job here is done. You're free to go."
Regulus surprised her first by staying and second by answering her question. "Before him, I was the black sheep, even though my parents never knew. He lied to them to protect me, and so received the punishments I ought to have received myself. By the time he left, I'd already learnt how to be the perfect son."
She occluded. It wouldn't do to think of two children, one barely older than the other and protecting the little one. The idea alone was heartbreaking, much as she despised Black and his guts. It didn't help that she could empathize too well with pretending to be someone you weren't for a parent's sake. In the end, Regulus wasn't safe at home.
"Have you ever thought about doing something similar to what your brother did?"
"I wouldn't ever leave home. The one I cherish the most is there and can't leave. It'd be cruel."
Skyrah, helpless and useless as she felt, gave him a nod. It was one of those instances in which she wished she could openly show compassion.
"I still believe you lose nothing by seeking a trusted adult's help. I can't help you further."
"I didn't ask for your help in the first place."
"No, you didn't, but it was my duty to talk to you."
It was the end of the conversation, or so Skyrah thought until Regulus stopped by the door and turned his head to look at her. "I do appreciate your trying to help. Nobody else in this damn school has." He thought Skyrah had smiled at him, only to dismiss the idea. It was her duty to reach him. So she'd told him. "Don't tell anyone about this. If my parents get stricter, I promise to be sensible and talk to someone."
That someone wouldn't be her or anyone at Hogwarts. It'd be the one trapped in Black Manor, someone Regulus cherished more than his brother. Skyrah hoped that'd be enough.
Severus waited until Saturday to try with Skyrah what he'd meant to do to her in the prefects' bathroom before stumbling upon the marauders. Quidditch training meant they had his dormitory to themselves. No sooner had Skyrah entered than Severus began to kiss her sensually.
When his mouth nibbled her earlobe, she asked, "Is this how you're going to say 'hi' from now on? I could get used to this."
He smirked against her ear and kissed her mouth again, loosening her tie. He didn't stop until he needed to breathe in deeply to maintain his confident façade. "I'm setting the mood."
She quirked an eyebrow, eyes glistening in amusement. "Is it that kind of mood or have I got a dirty mind?"
"Both." His reply got her giggling despite herself. He kissed her neck in the spots that made her wet, softly pushing her until the back of her knees collided against his bed. When she began to shiver, he whispered hotly in her ear, "Today I'll make you come." He heard her intake of breath. "I need you undressed waist down."
So waist down, she undressed and removed her tie and cardigan as an extra. Trembling in anticipation, she lay on his bed. He did the same, although he stayed fully clothed bar for his outer robes, tie, and jumper. Each on their sides, they snogged for a while: her with her fingers rubbing his scalp, him with his fingers grazing her thighs, and finally, her clit. He drew small circles on it, eliciting small moans from her. When one of his fingers delved into her, she broke the kiss with a gasp.
"W-wait."
He complied, worried, until she got rid of the rest of her clothes and asked him to play with her boobs. How could he refuse? Soon, he was sucking her nipples while she kept rocking onto his hand. He allowed this to continue until she got quite wet.
He looked up at her and husked, "Now I will lie down. I need you to sit on my face."
"You won't be able to breathe!"
"Yes, I will. I read about it. I think I can give you an orgasm this way."
She quirked an eyebrow. "What exactly have you been reading?"
"A magazine Rosier kept hidden. It turned out to be highly informative."
"Not that highly informative. It'll be a bit uncomfortable for you to use your fingers in that position."
"My fingers are my second resort." He noticed her unease at the realization of what exactly he had in mind, for he quickly added, "I should've told you about this beforehand, discussed it with you." He shook his head, resigned. "Forget I said anything. I want your happiness and pleasure above all. We both must be comfortable with everything we do in bed. It's okay if you don't want to try it at all."
"I want to try it. It's just… What if you don't like it? What if I smell or taste weird?"
"There's nothing off-putting about your body. On the contrary. I sincerely doubt the experience will disappoint me. In the highly unlikely scenario the opposite occurs, nothing would change between us. We're experimenting, discovering sexual preferences we both can enjoy."
She nodded slowly, biting her bottom lip, cheeks flushed. She'd never brought it up because her self-consciousness was bigger than her curiosity. Now, though? With Severus looking at her like he couldn't when surrounded by others, with all his feelings for her on display, there was nothing she was self-conscious of. He wanted to worship her, and she wanted to be worshiped.
"Will you be comfortable in that position?"
"With my face between your legs? Where else would I want to be?"
"I'm serious."
"Me too. It's the first time we're doing this. What better way than having you on top so that you can move the way that feels best for you and apply the right degree of pleasure?"
That made sense, so they got into the correct position. Her anticipation was making her nervous.
"Relax." His hot breath against her sex was enough for her to squirm. "Give me your hand."
She did. The caresses on her palm with his thumb helped calm her down, if only a bit.
"Okay. We're really going to–Oh!" The tip of his tongue had only brushed her experimentally.
"Is this all right?"
"I think I'll enjoy this... a lot."
His low chuckles vibrated against her folds. It was a pleasant sensation that intensified the moment he began to plant kisses on the area. She adjusted her position so that his mouth could reach her better, and the tip of his nose rubbed her clit. Her taste and smell did the opposite of repelling him, judging by the occasional moans which escaped him without touching himself. She began to caress his hair, grinding into his mouth, moaning with abandon like he'd never heard her. She felt his triumphant grin against her heat. Rosier's magazine and its advice were the most useful piece of literature, if one could call it that, that he'd ever read.
When she came, she squeezed his hand so strongly it hurt, though he barely felt the pain. Her unrestrained moaning and shaking legs commanded all his attention. He didn't stop until she removed herself and collapsed next to him, her left hand on her rapid-beating heart. Ironically, he'd missed her o-face. Still, her eyes were glazy, her cheeks beautifully flushed, and her lips so red he could be tricked into believing she'd put on makeup. He let her catch her breath, still holding her hand. When her eyes closed and she sighed in satisfaction, he couldn't help himself. He got on top of her and kissed her languidly. She barely responded.
"Are you going to fall asleep on me? I was expecting feedback."
"I was soaking wet the moment you told me I'd be coming today in that voice of yours. You kept your word. My legs are still shaking. It's never felt so good. I'm so spent and relaxed I could fall asleep. There's your feedback. Is that enough to boost your ego?"
"Just the right amount."
She laughed tiredly and brought his face down to kiss him thoroughly this time.
"I'm planning on repeating it as often as you let me," he said, pulling away from her kiss. "I won't use my fingers anymore."
"Don't you dare. Both your hands and your mouth make me feel very good."
"Only my mouth makes you come."
"Your hand alone would've made me come if you'd continued doing what you were doing."
"How do you know?"
She gave him a naughty grin. "While you read magazines, I delved into practical knowledge. My hand alone gave me a few orgasms during spring break."
"What's the trick?" He was eager for her to share, especially after spending practically the second term trying and failing. He'd started to think his technique, much as she said she adored his hands, could use an upgrade.
"Letting go. When you touched me, a part of my brain was very aware of our schedule and of the fact we must be careful if we don't want to get caught. I could see how much effort you put into my pleasure, and I wanted to have an orgasm, but focusing on the end kept me from it. At home, I could relax. I came thinking about your touch."
He bit his bottom lip to hold back a moan at the image she'd conjured in his head of her coming with his name falling off her lips.
"I knew that this time and could let go. Holding your hand helped, too."
"And my mouth."
There was a playful sparkle in her eyes. "And your skillful mouth."
A mouth she wished to kiss again, so she did. Without breaking the kiss, he got hold of his wand and used a nonverbal spell to get rid of his clothes, which piled on Avery's bed. Skyrah hooked a leg around his hip, encouraging him to grind into her body. His erection was close to her crotch. A few thrusts later, the inevitable happened: the tip brushed her clit, making her gasp and him let out a small whimper. They stared into each other's eyes, not daring to move. When she'd humped onto his erection, there'd always been a fabric barrier…
Until now.
The new sensation left both craving for more.
"I-it's fine," she started, making an effort not to show her resignation and frustration. "It was an accident. We don't have to go further."
"You're right. We don't have to, but I want to if you also do."
Those were words she'd waited to hear since his birthday. Her whole skin burnt in anticipation, yet she remained still and told herself to calm down.
"I do."
He let out a sigh as if he'd been holding his breath. She didn't understand why. Had he honestly expected her to reject him? She'd told him she wanted to have sex with him a long time ago.
"Are you sure, though? I don't mind waiting for you."
"Positive. You're well-lubricated after having an orgasm. It shouldn't hurt you. Besides, if I come too quickly, I won't feel like I've let you down. I can give you a second orgasm with my hands or my mouth."
Her mind worked slowly when his hardness kept pressing against her core. "Are you telling me that all this time you've said you weren't ready for sex because you hadn't made me come and thought it'd be a painful experience for me?"
"The thought of disappointing you or hurting you in any way is unbearable. You deserve the best. I think I can give you the best now."
Moved, Skyrah put her hand on his cheek. He was trembling, slightly sweaty. That was what happened when he put himself under so much pressure. Perfection and first times didn't go hand in hand.
"Our first kiss, the first time we touched each other… They weren't perfect, but when I think about them, I feel so much tenderness. I know I'll feel the same when I think of today despite the awkwardness, the nerves, and everything that may not go according to plan. That tenderness is what we deserve, the best you can give me."
He looked as she imagined he did when he hugged her in the bathroom on the day of her birthday, under the invisibility potion effects: overcome with emotion. His head turned to her palm, planting on it a kiss. She only stopped the caresses to cast the anti-conception charm and leave her wand next to his, on his nightstand. For a moment, they stared at each other, the idea of what they were about to do was slowly dawning in.
"Is th-this okay, or would you rather be on t-top?"
She made her choice known by squeezing his hip with the leg that hooked it.
An intake of breath, and he guided himself inside.
Or tried to.
His hand was shaking so much that he kept missing the hole. Both, taking pity on him and out of impatience, she put her hand on top of his and guided him in, only the tip. She let go of his hand and gave him an encouraging nod. He pushed in slowly, groaning into her shoulder and slightly scowling in such a way Skyrah had learned meant he was making an effort not to come. He kissed her eyelids, cheeks, and chin, and told her how brilliant, kind, and gorgeous she was. Skyrah felt like crying, not for the mild discomfort in her core but for his care. She felt so cared for and he was being so gentle despite his obvious need to move already that she wasn't sure if she'd be able to fight back her tears.
He whispered her name, concern all over his face. "Does it hurt? Do you need to stop?"
"I'm okay, just emotional. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here with you, doing this."
"Me neither."
They smiled at each other, a most perfect moment.
At her nod, he sank his teeth into his lip and pulled out, sliding back in with another moan. With each thrust, the pleasure grew, and the new slightly weird sensation of being filled became natural to her. He put her other leg around his hip so that both her legs hugged him. His enthusiasm guided him, and his pace sped up a bit as a result, although he was gentle and meticulous, she noted. She ran her hands along his back, venturing as low as his buttock to encourage him to deepen his thrusts. He complied and almost lost it when she began kissing his jawline and said amid sighs that she adored the feeling of his body over hers.
Her lips found his mouth next. She kissed him until his mouth sagged open, completely slack. He was making faces and moaning irrepressibly, so vulnerable… so beautiful. Only for her. She couldn't quite tell where he ended and she began, or which part of her pleasure resulted from their bodies or the emotions he was evoking in her. His moans, his trust, the feeling of skin against skin... Everything mixed until she couldn't make sense of anything bar one thing: she loved him.
He froze and stared into her sincere eyes.
"Severus, I love you," she repeated, sensing he needed to hear the words again.
It shouldn't have surprised him – she'd told him that she was smitten with him on several of their secret dates – but it did. In his view, 'to love' and 'to be in love' were entirely different concepts, the former having a deeper meaning than the latter. He'd counted himself extremely lucky that she was in love with him. All his life, he'd only dared to dream about being loved. And now there was this witch, giving herself to him, telling him he was loved by her. A timeless gift.
He'd known he loved her for a long time, long before they'd started to date, even. What else but love could explain the warmth in his chest whenever she held him, the desire to make her smile and be with her, or how he hadn't hesitated before agreeing to date her in secret? The words had been on the tip of his tongue countless times, yet he'd never dared. Every time he'd thought of telling her that he loved her, his brain cruelly reminded him of Tobias and how he used the word love to trap Eileen in an abusive marriage. If Severus was to confess his feelings to Skyrah, it'd be a day when Tobias didn't cross his mind at all.
"I don't know how to make you feel what you're making me feel," he rasped, planting a kiss on her slightly sweaty forehead, so chaste she ended up dewy-eyed.
"I'm already feeling it."
She brought his face down to kiss him just as innocently as he'd done, in the same place, and turned her head to softly suck on his earlobe while her hand traced his scars, leaving him almost breathless. If she kept doing that, he'd come. It was a wonder he'd lasted so long already. He needed to get her close and knew just how to attain the goal. He took the hand that was on his nape, playing with his hair, and placed her fingertips on her clit, guiding it so that they'd draw circles on it.
"Touch yourself." His husky voice affected her. He could tell by the way she shivered and quietly moaned. "Make yourself feel good. That's it. So gorgeous. Let me hold your other hand."
They intertwined their fingers. He groaned lowly at the sight of Skyrah complying willingly and resumed thrusting into her. Was she beautiful when squeezed her legs to feel him deeper! Her knees were weak, and he was completely nude, scarred, yet Severus had never felt so safe, protected, and loved. He couldn't think as she arched her neck, eyes closed, and moaned his name. He had to kiss that beautiful neck, especially a special spot he'd discovered was quite erogenous for her, and so he did. She gave his hand a tight squeeze and then…
Sudden waves of infinite pleasure broke through him, letting out a loud growl into her neck as he pulsed inside her. He went limp and let himself fall on top of her. Never had he felt so spent, so peaceful and…
I love you. Severus, I love you.
His tears wetted her collarbone.
"Please say it again."
She needn't ask him to be specific. She told him that she loved him, loved him more than she'd ever loved anyone before. He let out a sob. The caresses on his hair and nape were a comforting constancy.
"You wanted tenderness. Instead, I'm giving you the memory of a pathetic sniveling boy. I'm sorry."
Her heart ached, for it was easy to deduce nobody had said the words to him before her. She knew what it was like to long to hear those words so badly and receive silence or worse: rejection. She'd cry out of relief and gratitude as Severus was doing if Voldemort said he loved her, too. If her craving was so strong when she already knew what being loved was like thanks to her mother and grandmother, she didn't want to imagine the misery Severus must have endured. It wasn't the moment to bring up Voldemort or any kind of suffering, though. She quickly pushed two images out of her mind: Voldemort's disappointed face and young Severus wishing his parents would say they loved him.
"You've got nothing to be sorry about. I'm of the opinion that someone who values love so much is far from pathetic. You don't take my love for granted, and that's good."
Normally, she was the one who initiated the cuddles. It made her feel both happy and sad to see he was the one requesting them. She provided them.
"Did you like it?" he asked, not daring to look her in the eye. He needn't fear.
"It was beautiful, Severus."
"Even if I didn't make you come again?"
"I can't complain after having the most intense orgasm of my life." She brought his hand, which hadn't let go of hers yet, to her mouth and pressed a kiss to his palm. "I felt connected to you in a way I've never been to anyone. I wouldn't change a thing about our first time. We didn't only have sex. We made love."
Upon hearing the word 'love' from her mouth again, he couldn't help but kiss her. It went on for minutes, even after the taste of his salty tears was no longer palpable, and he naturally slipped out of her and felt his seed dripping down her thighs. She shifted, slightly uncomfortable.
"Allow me." He used magic to clean the mess and got a cheek kiss as a reward.
She laid her head on his shoulder, a sign she was too tired to do something other than snuggling. He'd have to wait until their next date to give her the second orgasm he deemed she deserved.
"Severus."
"Mmh?"
"...Was I a good lover?"
Well, it was her turn to appear nervous and insecure. She, too, needn't have.
"Aren't you the historian? Good is the biggest understatement of the century in British History. You should know."
How he loved it when she laughed at his jokes, even when she hit his chest playfully. Especially when she did that and looked at him with sparkling eyes, trying to hold back a chuckle and failing. He sighed contentedly when she began to play with the sparse hair on his chest, occasionally kissing his shoulder. In ten minutes, they'd be getting dressed and erasing all evidence that a girl had been in the boys' dorm. Until then, they'd bask in the placid feeling of fulfillment.