A/N: In which two idiots finally admit what was obvious to the readers all along!

Chapter 13

"Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place." – Zora Neale Hurston

Valentine's Day brought with it an inundation of rain. The sun, it seemed, had taken its leave of the country for the remainder of the season. Bex minded none, finding herself content in the gloom as it was markedly familiar; similar to the weather in Chicago, except with a colder, crisper edge. She'd discovered it especially easy to pass the time today, between guiding her apprentices and treating the off student who wandered in with a bloodied nose or uncontrollable cough. It was Mumblewumps season, so, naturally, Bex was on high alert for any student with even a mildly runny nose. And if she saw anyone in the corridors who appeared to have swollen cheeks, they were forced to deal with an on-the-spot examination. Despite having so much room in the castle to quarantine should the need arise, she preferred that the need… never arise. If she could cut the 'wumps off at one or two, she'd effectively halt an endemic before it even began.

All in all, the day was busy, though not frantically so. She was glad, because it offered her less opportunity to think about the date. The 14th day of the month of February wasn't as celebrated at Hogwarts as it was in other parts of the world, like the United States. In Chicago, the signs of Valentine's Day could be seen on every corner, at every store – magic or mundane. Erinlẹ's typically went all-out with decorations and dancing paper hearts; appreciation cards sent out to all staff members (including the gargoyles), and an annual scavenger hunt had become their time-honored tradition – the winner selected which ward in the hospital received the donation fund.

At Hogwarts, there was a stark difference. Besides the occasional owl (or student) going by the Hospital Wing clutching a card, nothing could be said for the holiday. Perhaps it was just the anticipation of the Second Task, or maybe no one was in a festive mood following the events of last summer.

"I remember when Madam Pomfrey made bleeding heart cupcakes for everyone," Adam had said the other day, completely unprompted, before throwing a sheepish look at his current matron. "Sorry. I didn't mean – I just miss her sometimes, you know?"

"I do. I know many of you miss her. I'd be more worried if you never talked about her at all."

With Dibly's help, she'd made bleeding heart cookies that same evening. She was careful to serve them the day before, on February thirteenth, to ensure she did not disrespect Pomfrey's memory by serving them on the actual day itself. The gesture felt well-received by most, if not all, of the school.

At six o'clock, she bid Adam, Claudia, and Penny farewell, urging them to be safe in their romantic pursuits later in the evening. Adam turned cherry tomato red in the face, while the girls simply giggled conspiratorially. They were lucky she hadn't gone with her initial thought, which was to yell after them, "Remember to use protection spells!"

Bex wondered if Pomfrey had ever felt this fiercely maternal towards her students, and immediately concluded that, yes, she had. For there was simply no way one could remain so rigid in their role as a caretaker that they did not end up holding some sort of affection towards their children.

The infirmary was currently uninhabited, as it had been for the majority of the year. (For which she was endlessly grateful.) As such, Bex decided to disappear into her office for awhile. Her gaze swiveled over her desk, eyes immediately locked in on the small parcel sitting there so innocuously.

What the –?

Confusion colored her features, the corners of her mouth pulled down into a deep frown. She approached the parcel warily, throwing at it a few detection charms. There were no obvious traces of malevolent magic, so she proceeded with immense caution. Eyes narrowed and wand at the ready. The parcel was wrapped simply, and she muttered a spell under her breath that shredded the paper in seconds. A red card lay atop a small black box.

Bex smiled, her heart twisting up into a wild somersault.

She put her wand away and slowly picked up the card. She recognized that handwriting anywhere now.

Rebecca,

I apologize for the intrusion, and forgive me for soliciting your trainee to deliver you this parcel; I am out of the country for the evening, lest I would have brought it to you myself.

In any case, I trust that you will appreciate the enclosed item. For the purpose of meditation – simply turn the hourglass upside down, close your eyes, and repeat the incantation, "Ad pacem in mentis." I have charmed the hourglass so that each session lasts approximately fifteen minutes each.

I will be interested to hear what you think of my invention.

Yours,

S

Bex's hands were almost trembling with anticipation. Laughing breathlessly, she snatched up the black box and opened it to reveal a vintage, delicate-looking hourglass. It was constructed with brushed silver, and the sand inside was a pearly white.

She flipped the hourglass. Closed her eyes.

"Ad pacem in mentis."

Upon feeling the breeze on her face, she instantly knew that Severus had accomplished a magnificent feat of magic. A sweet, floral scent filled her nose, and in the distance, she heard – seagulls?

Bex opened her eyes and gasped.

She was standing at the coast, waves crashing just beyond the tall grasses and shrubbery in a lulling cadence. At her feet – soft grass, and she was surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of…

Flowers.

Wildflowers – asphodels, sea daffodils, cowslips, orchids, hyacinths – and, of course, fresh lavender.

She drew in a deep lungful of the sweetened air, then reminded herself that she already only had about fourteen minutes remaining. Yet, the knowledge that she could "turn back" time and experience this all over again seeped into her consciousness, and it was a comfort onto itself. She could truly savor each moment without rushing.

Fully immersed, Bex kicked off her shoes so she could feel the warm earth and sand under her feet. She gathered a bunch of her favorite flowers in a colorful arrangement, then stepped through all the tough, hardy vegetation with her bouquet to reach the shore. Water soon lapped at her toes, and she turned her face skyward, eyes closed, to feel the fiery rays of the sun heat her cheeks. Perhaps eleven minutes remaining.

He knew her so well. More than that, Bex suspected he knew her soul.

Her hands brought the bouquet to her nose in a somewhat involuntary action. She inhaled, and grinned; the wind coming off the ocean tasted salty on her tongue. How ironic it was that she awoke this morning with no flowers, no expectations for the day, and now…

Seven minutes.

Now, as Bex held a wildflower arrangement made entirely of her favorites, she found herself thoroughly and inexorably in love with Severus Snape.

RK + SS

"You have been perusing these stacks for over an hour now, Severus… have you found what it is you're looking for?"

He blinked. A glance towards the ostentatious grandfather clock in the corner told him that Narcissa was correct – he had been at this for over an hour now, closer to two, with laughably little to show for it.

"No," came his curt reply. She knew the reason which necessitated his search within the Malfoy Manor's ancient library – something about a rare ingredient needed for one of his side experiments – was utter hogwash. Narcissa allowed him to keep most secrets to himself. Therefore, he did not feel the need to expound further than a simple, "Then again – I am highly selective of my resource material."

"Of course." She smiled lightly, and stepped closer, elegant robes whispering against the marble floor. "Perhaps a recess? A fresh perspective will certainly help."

And he already saw what she was inching towards. It would've been amusing had he not wanted to throw himself back into researching Rebecca's condition. He didn't need a recess or a fresh perspective. What he needed was a miracle.

What he needed was to never lose her.

But Narcissa was equally concerned. Why wouldn't she be? No doubt Lucius had been acting increasingly… erratic as of late. More often these days, and even today, his time was spread thin at the Ministry of Magic, no doubt smoothing things over. Paving the way; ensuring certain preparations were made because the first thing their Master would seek to take control of would be the Ministry. They were all on edge, every last one of the Death Eaters who wore the Dark Lord's mark – watching it darken day by day, like some festering disease that could be eradicated only by its creator. Narcissa had left him alone from the time he'd entered the manor, sensing his aggravation, and giving him some space to work in the library by himself, without interruption. Now, over an hour later, Severus owed it to her to be sociable – to share with her what her husband would not.

He turned back to the bookshelves, where each dusty tome he picked up was somehow more useless than the last. Looking down at the book in his hands, allowing the, admittedly, oppressive silence to build until he had no choice but to respond. There was a sharp twist in his gut – he would not so readily admit to defeat.

"A recess will not conjure the information I need, Narcissa." He said it without any bite, not even a trace of a sneer, and still, she pursed her lips at the affront.

"Surely you can appreciate how stepping away can often provide much needed clarity."

"I don't need clarity." Frustration simmered just beneath the surface of his skin. For a month now, for the fucking life of him, he could not compartmentalize Hiroya Kakudō's face as the Vītālinare fell – plummeted – to his death at his own wand. Severus felt trapped, backed into a corner that, for once, had nothing to do with the Mark on his arm. He clutched the book he held even tighter, words about generational dream magic and gift awakenings blurring on the page. "I don't. I need –"

He had to damn near chew his tongue off at the end; it was remarkably easy to let his guard down with Narcissa. She'd known him from the time he was a child – a mere, unsightly boy of eleven – and she'd been there to aid him, in her own way, time and again. Of course it was easy for him to slip up around her.

But she was not Minerva. Narcissa Malfoy, by virtue of her own status – heritage, luck, misfortune, whatever one would call it – danced far too close to the devil for Severus to ever feel comfortable sharing his feelings towards Rebecca with her.

Ah, and there it was again – that word. Feelings. He would need to nip that soon. Because the words were right there, dancing themselves right at the tip of his tongue. Twirling, spinning, unraveling –

I need her to live.

Suddenly, Narcissa's hand was on his arm. If he could tear his eyes away from the book he held in his hands, almost like a lifeline, he would see that Narcissa was looking at him with no small amount of sympathy. She gave his arm the smallest squeeze, a maternal gesture borne out of years of doting on Draco.

"Come. Sit. Let us have tea. I will not pry; I should simply like to just… talk. Converse. Then, I will let you get back to these weathered, old tomes."

And that was the rub, wasn't it? She allowed him his secrets. In exchange, he kept her as informed as possible to how her husband and son were faring.

A house elf had slipped into the library, carrying a tea service. It was a larger service than normal, with a delicious spread of finger sandwiches, scones, an assortment of jams, and clotted cream. It appears we'llbe here awhile, he thought sardonically, taking a seat. As quick as the creature came to deliver their tea, it was gone, but not before bowing lowly at its mistress's feet.

One thing Severus appreciated about Narcissa Malfoy – had always appreciated about her – she was not one to mince words or beat around the bush. It was a trait notably rare amongst the upper echelons of pureblood society. But Narcissa had always prided herself on being her own person, as snobbish as she was, and she would do anything – anything – to protect her family. Keep them safe in the ways that she could. Even if that was simply being armed with more information than they were letting her be privy to. Thus, she wasted no time getting down to business, a determined set to her jaw and a keen, cunning gleam in her eye.

With a graceful, yet deliberate movement, she added a dollop of jam to her plate. She was calm, but purposeful – a steely resolve in the way she gazed at him that Severus recognized all too well.

"Lucius has been… well, frankly, he's been incredibly apprehensive. Restless."

Severus raised a brow, unable to resist goading her a bit. His voice took on a scandalized tone as he prepared his tea. "No lead-up this time? Straight to gossiping about your husband, are we?"

"It would be no different from the old days, would it not?" she said, allowing the smallest of smiles to curl her painted lips as she recalled their time at Hogwarts together – when she was still a Black, not a Malfoy.

He could not help the subtle smirk that pulled at his own mouth. "Oh, how his pride would be wounded to know."

She chuckled. "Believe me, Severus – he knows."

He brought his cup of tea to his lips, and took one sip. Two. Then, he exhaled softly, dragging his eyes up to meet piercing blue ones.

"I would say he has good reason for apprehension."

"The Dark Lord. Is he…?"

Severus gave a minute shake of his head. "No," he muttered. "But… soon. I can feel it. In his Mark. Lucius can feel the same. It will – it will be soon."

Narcissa swallowed delicately. She sipped her tea. She was tensed, as though just barely resisting the urge to shiver. "And we will be here, ready to welcome our Lord back with open arms."

He stared at her, hard, considering. Mirroring her determined posture. "He will be angry, Narcissa. When he returns. There are things that Lucius has done…"

"I know what he has done," she claimed, but would not elaborate further because they both knew. The worst of his recent transgressions being that stupid, damnable diary –

"Then I would not put it past him to try to send yourself and Draco out of the country before the Dark Lord's return." Not that it would matter much, if he decides to use you as leverage against Lucius.

"That," she sniffed, "is not an option. I will not abandon my husband."

And nor would Lucius willingly abandon his wife and child. It was, perhaps, the only thing that would see the Malfoy family through the return of one of the most powerful Dark Lords to walk amongst men. Severus now had to suppress his own shiver. Was he, perhaps, distracting himself with Rebecca's condition? The possibility reared its ugly head at him, more often now that the Dark Mark became ever clearer. If he allowed himself to be so consumed by one problem – by one woman – they would be doomed before they even began.

Yet, every time he saw her face in his mind's eye – high cheekbones, clever eyes, smiling lips, and runes traversing every plane – he felt an urgency in his stomach that rivaled even his anxiety at the Dark Lord's imminent return to power. A distraction? No, a lifeline – more tangible than the book he held in his hands earlier. An attempt to hold onto something too good and too fucking pure in this world that was steadily tipping towards corruption. Depravity.

The mere thought of the Dark Lord discovering what she was twisted Severus' urgency into a cold, hard fear. What sort of dark rituals would his Master seek to use her in, if he learned of her true nature? What kind of magic could be done with Vītālinare blood, skin, and bones? He did not suppress his shudder this time, and immediately had to halt that line of thinking, shoving it as far back as it could go, to the sullied corners of his mind. The thought should have terrified him because of what it could mean for their cause – in their fight against the Dark Lord. Not because of what it meant for her. It was selfish, as a spy, to care and fixate and obsess about her well-being while they all teetered at the brink of chaos. He could not help it. He had tried. Shielding her, protecting her, trying to help extend the unfairly short course of her life – it had all become an obsession against his better judgment, a desperate grasp onto something many would consider tenuous. And for once, it felt right. As if he was made for this alone, for her alone.

He would not abandon his post, in the same way Narcissa would never abandon her family… and neither would he ever even think to abandon Rebecca Kakudō.

"For all of your character attributes that are distinctly Slytherin," he drawled, "you could have been a Gryffindor."

Narcissa laughed then, a real one. Quiet, but real. It made her appear much younger than when she defaulted to the pinched expression she wore normally.

"Speaking of little snakes, how is my favorite?"

"Draco is well – I assume he has kept up with his letters?"

"Oh, yes," she replied with a flip of her hair, "but you know young boys – hardly want to sit down and be still long enough to write at all, let alone to their mothers."

Severus bit back a smirk. He wondered, not for the first time, if Draco had saw it fit to not discuss the whole ferret incident with his parents. Good. It was time he tried standing on his own two feet for once regarding some matters.

"It seems that he and Miss Parkinson have grown even closer since the Yule Ball. There are rumors circling the Slytherin dormitory that the two are… involved."

Narcissa's eyes absolutely glittered. "Oh, do go on."

At the end of his visit, after consuming half his weight in tea and pastries and after a thorough comb through the manor's library (only to come up with a handful of books that may only be vaguely useful in understanding her ability), Narcissa walked him all the way out. The ruminating frustration had returned, with full force, though he kept his face as neutral as possible. He felt she was about to speak before she even turned to him and opened her mouth.

"I said I would not pry –"

"Don't, then."

"– but by Hecate herself, Severus Tobias Snape, I have seen you look like this only one time before in your entire life."

That stopped him in his tracks. He blinked owlishly, back teeth grinding together as if that could quash the words she'd had audacity enough to speak aloud. His entire body would have jerked with the force of his shock had he not been holding his muscles so rigidly.

"Whoever she is," Narcissa continued, "it is clear you have not yet lost her. So do not give up now. Do not sabotage yourself, and what little happiness there is to be found now."

He opened his mouth, then slammed his jaw shut abruptly.

"You know nothing," he hissed.

Narcissa merely smiled.

RK + SS

Bex's eyes scanned the dark, choppy waters of the Black Lake along with everyone else, a feeling of trepidation working inside of her. She pressed a fist to her mouth, staring at the spot where Harry Potter just slipped underwater. She desperately hoped he knew what he was doing – she hoped all of the champions knew what they were doing. When Ludo Bagman revealed that something precious had been taken from the champions, it dawned on Bex with frightening clarity just why she and Severus were made to brew the Draught of Living Death a few nights ago.

She'd tried to find him in the crowd before the start of the Second Task, but he wasn't there amongst the throngs of students, professors, and Ministry staff. Or, as was more likely, he was hiding and didn't want to be seen. She glanced around once more, then puffed her cheeks in frustration. Why would he be hiding from her? Just the day before, they'd shared a wonderful tea.

"Thank you," she'd said softly after a lull in their conversation. She could feel his eyes on her, but refused to look, afraid of what she might do. "It is such a lovely gift, Severus... I can't say I've ever seen anything quite like it."

"Good," he'd replied simply. "With frequent use, I trust it will help provide clarity. Peace of mind."

And then he'd promptly diverted the conversation to another topic; refusing to linger on what the larger implications of gifting anything on Valentine's Day might be. Steadfastly ignoring the connotation that was gifting a charmed meditation device which, yes, had actually been quite instrumental in offering her some peace of mind; particularly with everything that kept revealing itself to her as of late. Bex blinked now, hoping to dispel some of the anxiety curling – curdling – in her stomach.

"Potter really was cutting it close there, wasn't he?" said Septima, who was seated next to Bex. The Healer hummed in response, eyes once more skimming the surface of the water.

Minutes ticked by, and nothing happened. Bex pulled her cloak tighter around herself – everyone seemed to be dealing with the biting February chill in their own way. Her aunt was wearing, at minimum, four layers of clothing, complete with dragonhide gloves and a thick scarf; Hogwarts students of every house sat huddled together for warmth with visiting students from the other two schools. With how close all of the children sat next to each other in the stands, Bex thought they resembled penguins a bit. The cold didn't seem to bother Hagrid any, but that did not stop him from nursing a large leather bladder, which smelled suspiciously of mead.

Triwizard Tournament doesn't seem to be much of a spectator sport, Bex thought with an audible huff. Her aunt raised a brow in her direction.

"I wish we could see," she explained, peering out at the inky black.

"Not a lot of forethought," Septima agreed, and cast another warming charm around them.

Bex turned her head slightly to look for the Hogwarts headmaster; usually, if she could spot Dumbledore, that meant Severus was likely to be nearby. The former was having a quiet, somewhat tensed conversation with Ludo Bagman, and Severus was still nowhere to be seen.

And neither, it seemed, was Karkaroff – though he had been here only a few minutes prior, standing with the rest of the judges and watching Viktor Krum dive into the glacial abyss.

"If you're looking for Severus, dear," said Septima, "he's here somewhere. Probably skulking in the shadows behind all these students."

Bex opened her mouth, a retort on her tongue – to try to argue that she wasn't looking for anyone in particular – but quickly swallowed the words when a loud splash drew all of the spectators' attention. A flailing figure broke through the surface of the water. Bex stood in a flash, wand out, prepared to deliver aid.

"It's Fleur!"

"Is that a mermaid?!"

"Out of ze way! Zat is my friend!"

Another Beauxbatons student, about Fleur's age, with long braids down her back, shoved her way forward so that she could help her friend out of the freezing water. Bex was right at her side with a thick, warmed towel, supporting Fleur on the left and running several diagnostic charms over her shaking body. The poor girl was almost hysterical – crying, twisting, and looking back toward the water all while she sputtered and coughed.

"Gabi! Gabrielle! Ma frangine!"

"Your sister will be returned to you at the end of the task," Bagman proclaimed loudly over the chatter. "Unharmed." Several violent shushes rang out as everyone struggled to hear. It was all mostly background noise for Bex, who was now casting warming charms over Fleur; she did, however, notice Dumbledore standing near the shallows of the water, speaking Mermish to the dark shape lurking there. Bex did not have time to look longer, intent on pushing the pale and screeching Fleur towards the medical tent just a few meters away; she cast even more drying and warming charms over the young girl. Madame Maxime made a move to follow, coming up short at Bex's hand.

"Unharmed, Bagman said," Bex soothed her, and continued ushering Fleur away from the crowd, towards the inconspicuous white tent. The urge to hum – to create a healing melody with her voice – was always strongest in these moments, when she was forced to witness all the pains that extended well beyond physical injury. She just barely resisted calling upon her powers, choosing to instead heal Fleur with more traditional methods. Without breaking their stride, she pressed a PepperUp potion into the girl's cold, trembling hand. "Drink."

"Zey said zat – zat – if I did not save her, she would – she would –"

Fleur couldn't bring herself to say the word aloud, and Bex's own mouth formed a grim line. She was currently seeing the full extent of the manipulation used to exploit the champions – children. And she didn't like it.

"Gabrielle was dosed with a very strong sleeping draught, and given something to keep her breathing underwater until she can be recovered," Bex murmured in Fleur's ear. She raised the flap of the tent and gestured the Beauxbatons student inside, struggling to keep her face as impassive as possible. While the latter half of her statement was purely conjecture on her part, she had to have some hope that the Ministry wasn't that careless and irresponsible. Fleur looked as though she wanted to argue with the Hogwarts matron, but instead went inside with a loud sniff.

Before she ducked into the tent with Fleur, Bex glanced back towards the water, to check if any others had resurfaced. They had not.

However, she did briefly lock eyes with Severus.

It suggested he'd been watching her for at least a moment, the thought of which sent a bolt of electricity skittering up her backside. As much as her feet wanted to propel her forward, to go to his side and demand to know where he'd been – as he was now standing right next to Minerva, like he'd been there the entire time – Bex simply acknowledged him with a single nod. She did not wait to see him nod back, and disappeared after Fleur, dropping the tent flap on his hardened gaze.

"Do you have any injuries?" the matron asked briskly, taking the empty PepperUp vial.

Fleur shook her head. "I was attacked by grindylows. Ze mermen had to step in – zey were going to drown me." She was seated on one of the many cots that were setup for the champions and their rescues, clutching the towel tightly around herself. Violent tremors (that had little to do with the cold) wracked her slight frame. Bex cast another drying charm over her.

"The PepperUp will help the chill," Bex said, shining a light from her wand into Fleur's eyes. "How is your head?"

An irritable expression seized the student's face. "It iz fine. Now, please – can we get back to ze tournament?"

Bex considered the young woman before her, taking in the stubborn set of her mouth that severely juxtaposed her – still! – shivering body. She sighed through her nose. If she was in Fleur's position, she too would not be able to adequately rest until her sister was safely back ashore.

Mind made, Bex shot another warming charm at Fleur. "You have a lingering bit of shock," she stated in a matter-of-fact tone. "A few bumps and bangs that can be tended to later. I will allow you to go back outside and watch the rest of the Task be completed only if you promise to find me should your condition decline."

Fleur scoffed, eyeing the tent flap as though she was going to make a dive for it. "Please. I am not a child."

"Oh, but you are," Bex fired back, then softened the harshness in her tone. "In my eyes, you are, at least. All of you. So, just… promise me, alright? I'm not asking much."

For a moment, the blonde appeared… surprised. Then, a wry smile fell into place. She cocked her head a little, and raised a perfectly manicured brow. "You… are not like ze others. You and 'arry. You are… special." She was trying to work something out, but clearly decided to keep it to herself. In the end, she nodded, her silvery hair appearing ethereal in the light. "I will promise you."

Back in the spectator crowd, Bex reclaimed her spot beside Septima. Severus had once again melted into the shadows, and she didn't waste any time trying to find him. Forty minutes had elapsed, and they'd seen neither head nor tail of another champion – Bex's anxiety was beginning to spike. Fleur stood as far into the water as the judges would allow, clasping her hands together tightly. The late February sun glowed weakly behind an overcast sky, giving the dark water an embossed effect. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, without the anticipated air of impatience. It appeared the students would still rather be sitting here on a chilly lakefront at the tail-end of winter than have to attend classes. Curiosity and apprehension moved through everyone in the stands like a wave.

Just as Bex was about to suggest sending a search party, there was a gurgling in the water and, all of a sudden, more students resurfaced – Cedric and Cho. Cho took a gasping lungful of air and wore a brief look of panic before Cedric righted her. She smiled somewhat bashfully at him, and they both began making their way to shore at the behest of the merfolk. Bex was waiting with more towels and PepperUp.

Before she could thoroughly fuss over them and take the newcomers to the medical tent for a brief examination, Hermione and Viktor Krum came next out of the murky depths. The Quidditch player carried Hermione bridal-style as she sputtered and cleared the water from her nose. She blinked furiously, looked up at him, and flashed a sheepish grin. In response, he said something that only she could hear, which elicited a string of uncharacteristic giggles.

Now, it was Fleur and Bex standing, waiting anxiously in the water; whereas Fleur was waist-deep, the Healer trudged insofar only up to her calves. She may as well have stepped into the arctic – piercing, ice-cold water slid and cut across her flesh like glass shards. Her body was taut. Rigid. She refused to start shivering in front of damn near the entire school.

What is taking that child so long?!

She looked earnestly back at the headmaster, and missed three heads breaking through a vicious current. Raucous shouting ensued. The Gryffindors were on their feet, punching the air and hollering louder than Bex thought possible, drowning out Fleur's cries for her sister. Bex motioned for Harry and Ron Weasley to start making their way to shore. The sooner she could check them over for any maladies, the sooner she could dry and warm her ankles.

The boys paddled, helping Gabrielle orient herself in the water after just waking. Bex was unnerved to see that Harry had wasted precious minutes also trying to save Fleur's hostage… but she was ultimately not surprised. The kid had a hero complex like no other, based on what she knew of him. If he wasn't careful, it was sure to be the death of him, someday.

While Dumbledore once more conversed with the chief merperson, and while the judges made their deliberations – Percy Weasley was again filling in for the missing Mr. Crouch – Bex proceeded to fret over each and every one of the students who'd taken the icy plunge. She started with the youngest – Gabrielle, who was on the receiving end of a fervent apology.

"Je suis desolee, Gabi," said Fleur, holding the tinier blonde's cheeks in both hands. "Qu'est-ce que je peux faire pour me faire pardonner?"

Gabrielle batted her sister's hands away from her face. "Ce n'est pa ta faute! Zere iz nothing to apologize for!"

Percy had snatched up his younger sibling as well, almost as soon as Ron was out of the lake. Bex got the impression that, all this time, Percy had no clue Ron was underwater. The thought moved her, so she allowed them a few moments before inevitably pulling Ron away to get him warm and dry. Seating him next to Harry and Hermione on a bench near the deliberating judges, Bex made brief eye contact with Karkaroff, who'd reappeared in all the chaos. He narrowed his eyes, and his mouth curled into an ugly sneer before his gaze shifted to the three shivering Gryffindors. Her stare hardened, and she placed a protective hand on Hermione's shoulder that went largely unnoticed by the girl.

"Thanks, Healer K," said Ron. She'd draped another conjured towel over his shoulders.

"Of course, Ronald. Here, Harry, you take another towel, too."

When she glanced back to the judges, Karkaroff was again immersed in the conversation. He and Madame Maxime looked quite tense, and Bex could guess why – not only had Harry derailed the tournament to begin with, by being an unwilling participant… but, now, he'd thrown a secondary wrench in the whole affair by rescuing a hostage that wasn't his to save.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision!" Ludo Bagman's voice thundered out over the chattering crowd, as he abruptly broke free of the judges' huddle.

Fleur, of course, came in last place with now twenty-five points, having not even rescued her hostage; Bex saw how Gabrielle gave her sister's hand a small squeeze. Krum was awarded forty points, and to nearly everyone's bewilderment, Harry scored so that he was now tied in first place with Cedric. Amid the dispersing mass of people – all laughing, cheering, celebrating their individual wins – Bex urged those with damp clothes to go to the castle and change immediately. She hung back a bit to catch her breath, searching the tops of heads. It was a lost cause. She already knew she'd lost her aunt in all the clamor. Another benefit to living and working here, I suppose, she considered with a little self-indulgent smile – come lunchtime, she would see Septima again in the Great Hall.

When the majority of the assemblage had trickled back into the school, Bex too began making her way to the castle, envisioning all of the file updates she would have to make for multiple students across multiple houses. Fortunately, their conditions upon exiting the frigid lake were all the same, so it would cut down immensely on her paperwork.

So absorbed was she in her own thoughts, that she almost missed Severus loitering behind the stands.

Almost.

She'd actually grown quite accustomed to seeking him out in the shadows, since that seemed to be one of his most frequent haunts. Thus, he was easy to see, even when he wasn't. Her heart did a lap in her chest when they again locked eyes with one another. This time, he did not hesitate – he walked right toward her. As though he'd been waiting for her to pass.

He didn't break his stride, and neither did she, both intent on getting to warmth inside the castle.

"Where were you?"

"I was here," he answered elusively.

"Severus."

He sighed, his breath clouding in the chilly air. "I was here. Just tending to matters that required my attention."

She stopped walking at his side, so he would turn around and face her.

"I'm serious," she pressed.

His face twisted into a scowl. "And I am seriously annoyed that you will not drop. It."

There was a significant amount of venom to his words, to his whole demeanor, causing Bex to take an involuntary step back. She felt like she'd just been slapped, and she bit the side of her tongue to keep from crying. She wanted to scream at him, but she knew screaming would get her nowhere with this wizard. It seemed like with every small, tentative step forward with him she took, they went three whole staggering steps back. One day, he was deliciously warm and tender, and the very next, he was giving her the cold shoulder. Keeping things from her he would have otherwise shared. And for the life of her, she couldn't understand why.

Except… she could.

Deep down, she knew what was at the root of his erratic behavior. It was fear – raw, unfettered terror – the same kind she often carried with her. It gnawed at their insides, a beast that sought to take and consume and leave nothing left behind but a shell. A husk of a human being who was simply going through the motions, attempting to stay alive when staying alive felt so increasingly fruitless. But what was it that terrified him so? Vulnerability? Uncertainty? An impending war that they could all feel so viscerally, as if it was happening already. His eyes, so haunting and dark, swam with – was that regret? Or simply the ghost of it?

She took a deep breath to steady herself, trying to not let his tone and what he'd said go to heart. Feeling they were on the cusp of some sort of breakthrough, she squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. She didn't know how to respond – what to say – until the words, actually quite simple, were tumbling from her mouth.

"You can trust me."

It was her heart again, whispering – guiding her.

And the ice broke. Visibly, in one clean strike.

"I. Know." He said the words through clenched teeth, as though they actually physically pained him. "Little else frightens me more than the knowledge that I can trust you, Rebecca."

The admission knocked the wind out of her, least of all because she was not expecting it to come so readily. She exhaled, a shaky sound, feeling weak in the knees. Somehow, somewhere along the way, both of them had allowed the other a glimpse at the person they were underneath. Against all logic and all reason, Rebecca Kakudō had permitted this reserved, seemingly indifferent wizard to draw her soul out from its hiding place. And he, in turn, had let her glimpse the man beyond the shadows of his past, beckoning her inside the fortress he'd constructed around his heart with an hourglass and the rare, tempting sight of a boyish smile.

Now, standing on the precipice of indecision, there was only one outcome for all they had been through together.

"I love you," she said, so soft, it was barely heard over the moving waters of the lake. The shock of the revelation, one she'd barely begun to put into words herself, made her brown eyes widen. Emboldened, she said louder, "I love you. And, honestly, you are an ass for making me be the first to say it. Because I know you feel the same."

He stepped closer, wearing the same look he'd worn when they saw one another for the first time at the Yule Ball. She felt what would happen before it even happened, the next few moments playing out in her head like a Muggle romance film.

"Say it again." His eyes smoldered with a need that only she could fill. An enduring energy rolled off of his body in currents.

"I love you."

Before she was able to get the final syllable out, he was upon her. Invading her space. She welcomed him ardently as he slid one arm behind her back; with his other hand, he tilted her head up and crushed his mouth to hers in a heart-stopping first kiss. His lips moved against her own for one aching split-second, and then he was gone, eyes scoping the grounds for potential eyewitnesses. Bex was thankful to see that he was just as breathless as she.

"Perceptive, as always… I have indeed loved you for some time now, Healer Kakudō."

A/N: Short chapter, will more than make up for it with next week's update *wink wink, nudge nudge*

Ad pacem in mentis - For peace of mind