Twenty-Nine

The ball is just around the corner, but this chapter draws to a close an era in both their lives. This chapter, particularly the ending, is very special to me. I hope you enjoy it. X

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Despite the Spartan surroundings she now found herself in, Hermione was just as happy to wake up in Severus' small single bed as she had been to wake up in the luxurious setting of the Edinburgh hotel. As long as she was with him, it did not matter where they were, and his private rooms had provided them with some of their happiest times.

They lay in the dark of the November morning, languidly caressing each other.

"So," he drawled, "two weeks – ball – exams – the end."

"Sounds about right. Apart from the fact that I would amend your final statement to 'the beginning', not 'the end'."

"Quite right." Smiling, he leant down for a kiss. "Do not forget to accept the position at the Ministry today. And I will hand in my resignation."

"I'll owl the Ministry after breakfast. But, Severus, there really is no great rush to you resigning, you know. It may be more sensible to put your house on the market first. You could market it in the Muggle world and the wizarding world; I'm sure it will appeal to both."

"You haven't seen my house," he drawled sardonically. "I do not wish to return here to teach after Christmas, but as I have not given half a term's notice I will probably have to, for at least part of next term anyway. I suppose there is no immediate need to inform Minerva of my decision."

Hermione suppressed a giggle.

"What?" he asked sharply.

"Minerva? I've never thought of her as Minerva. And I haven't heard you call her that either. You have shifted your perspective, Professor!"

"Don't tease me, Miss Granger."

"The last time I teased you, Professor Snape, I got the impression you rather enjoyed it."

She had already moved down the bed so that her head rested just above the tip of his ever-growing erection.

Her tongue flicked out, just about to touch the head, when she stopped and pulled back. "Actually, we mustn't be late for breakfast."

Immediately, his hand closed upon her hair and he plunged her down again, drawling, "On the other hand, one can always last until lunch if necessary."

With a brief smirk, she set about her task with relish, encouraged by the ever more satisfied groans of the man above her. With the expert skills of her tongue, lips and hands, he soon came hard into the back of her mouth, his hips rising up to thrust as fully into her as she would allow. Releasing him gently, she brought herself up and swallowed visibly before him. He had propped himself up on his elbows to gaze at her, but on seeing her do that, he fell back with a moan of complete satisfaction.

The taste of him, salty and pungent, was strong in her mouth for so early in the day, and Hermione derived a strange pleasure from knowing it would linger on her tongue throughout the morning, a constant reminder of him. With that knowledge in mind, she was able to get up, shower and rush off for a quick bite of breakfast. She had Potions that afternoon.

After breakfast, she wrote a formal letter on the best piece of parchment she could find, accepting the position at the Ministry. She summoned an owl and sent it straight away. Before class, she also perused the Daily Prophet for flats she could rent, most magically concealed, although she wondered whether a straightforward Muggle dwelling would be preferable. She circled a few possibilities with the intention of sending off for details.

Hermione was remarkably focused on her lessons. The looming exams suddenly made their presence felt and she applied herself in good Granger fashion to her work.

The morning passed easily and after lunch she found herself in the familiar position of walking to the dungeons. Her fellow students were, as usual, moaning about the truculent manner of the Potions Master. It was Ginny who piped up in his defence. "Well, whatever we think about him, he's a bloody good teacher. I know I'm not taking my NEWTs until the summer, but I think I'd have a pretty good chance of doing well in Potions even if I was taking them this term."

"Yeah, you're right," continued a Gryffindor boy. "No one said you had to be popular to be a good teacher. Anyway, I think he's softened up a bit recently. He must have brewed himself a happy potion. God, he even laughed out loud at supper last night. The whole hall practically choked on their stew!"

"Maybe he's got himself a woman. Even Snape must need a good shag from time to time!" laughed another.

Hermione caught Ginny's eye.

"Who'd shag him?!" guffawed another boy.

"Oh, I don't know," said a pretty Ravenclaw girl. "There's something about him, you know."

"You are kidding me!?" the boy replied in complete disbelief.

"No, I agree," chipped in another girl. "He's got such a sexy voice, and there's something about that cold, calculating dismissive arrogance which is definitely hot."

"Yeah ... I know what you mean ... God, I thought I was the only one who thought that! He's got a pretty fine body too. I can just imagine undoing all those buttons ..." More and more girls were now extolling the virtues of their Potions Master.

The boys looked horrified. There was nothing so intimidating to a male as a seemingly unattractive man who women found sexy. They fell silent. The girls continued to giggle; even Ginny joined in.

Hermione was walking ahead of them slightly, her eyes down, studying a parchment for the lesson. They called after her.

"What do you think, Mione? Professor Snape – would you?"

Hermione's head remained down, but her footsteps slowed, and with a nonchalant glance back at them, she shrugged, "Not my type."

With that they had arrived at the classroom. She opened the door with a smile and walked in.

Hermione thought it wise to sit near the back and placed herself at a table in the most isolated spot she could find. She was amused but curiously disturbed by the girls' sudden declaration of their interest in her lover. It sometimes only took one person to give credence to an attraction, and the feeling spread rapidly through a group. It certainly had not been the case that they had been lusting after him all year.

Still, she watched them carefully when he stepped out from his rooms. There was a predictable hubbub as the girls turned to each other and giggled. Snape had been looking across at Hermione, but on hearing the noise turned sharply to the rest of the class.

"My my ... we are in a good mood today. Let us hope it translates into better results than the muck I have been used to receiving from you."

Hermione smirked, keeping her head down. He delivered the introduction with his usual smooth aplomb and thereafter the class set about concocting their potions. Hermione found herself again able to concentrate much more ably than usual. She was so engrossed in her work that she soon raised her hand to ask a question. Her fervour for academic exactitude was so fierce that she forgot for a moment she was inquiring of her lover. Her head was down, peering at the list of ingredients.

"Professor Snape? Surely it would be more advisable under many circumstances to substitute beetle wings for caterpillar spines. I mean, certain species of caterpillar can produce disadvantageous side-effects, which can severely hamper the efficiency of the resulting ..." She at last looked up. He was standing right next to her, looking down with a strange mixture of annoyance and amusement.

"Oh!" She stopped, her face breaking into a smile. "Hello."

"You were saying ... Miss Granger?"

She could not stop smiling at him, but his face, like his voice, did not reflect her mirth.

"Nothing, sir. I just got a bit carried away, that's all. The caterpillars that you have provided for us are indeed the best we can use."

"Naturally."

"It's just, with my exams coming up ... my brain is working overtime."

He moved around her desk and rested one hand on it. Instantly, inevitably, Hermione's pulse quickened and her belly twisted. It was a delicious reminder of their earliest illicit moments together. And still they went on. Her skin was aflame with expectation.

Snape did not immediately move, simply leaned into her, his eyes staring at her face, which she resolutely refused to turn towards him. Then she felt it: long, agile fingers working their way under her skirt. He knew she was wearing no underwear; he had watched her intently as she dressed before him that morning.

Hermione sucked in a little gasp of anticipation. His fingers were at her pussy, dipping up into it then running leisurely around her clit. She squirmed in expectant delight, wriggling upon them.

He leaned into her further, his mouth a mere breath from her ear. "As I was saying, Miss Granger ... you really are an insufferable know-it-all."

"Yes, sir."

With that he moved his fingers and thrust two up her arse hard and fast. He anticipated her gasp, as at the same time his other hand came up to clamp down firmly on her mouth. "Shhh," he murmured low, his fingers pistoning with delicious certainty along her. "Will you be silent?" She nodded, eyes wide with pleasured surprise.

He withdrew his hand from her mouth and moved it to hers, taking her fingers and guiding them over and into his robes. They were so voluminous as to hide a manifold of sins, none so much as now. Her breath hitched as she came up against his huge naked cock, released from his trousers.

His mouth was still at her ear. "My turn," came the next hiss, the fingers in her arse twisting, causing a pang of exquisite sensation. She bit down on her lip to prevent any sound escaping.

Her head instinctively darted round to look at him. His eyes flashed and he spoke low and urgent, "Miss Granger, the contents of your cauldron are most interesting, are they not? Kindly give them your full attention."

Hermione forced her head round to her pot of bubbling ingredients, while starting to move her hand up and down over the length of his rigid shaft. The skin was dry and she quickly released him to spit copiously onto her palm. She moved it swiftly back to rub immediately over the head and drew a soft moan from him which fell silently into the dense curls of her hair.

She pulled and twisted her hand over the flesh, thrilled by the hardness under her fingers. He soon gave up his own lubrication to her, as pre-cum started to ooze relentlessly from the tip. She gathered it up, then slid her hand hard down, then back up, over the head, then down again with a further firm twist.

He moaned into her hair again, his breath hot on her scalp, "Is there nothing you cannot do with utter brilliance?"

She smirked, but dared not take her eyes from the cauldron. She so wanted to be touched: her breasts, her clit were crying out for his touch. The fingers tight inside merely teased and coaxed her, sometimes pushed in so hard they sent a jolt of delicious pain through her primed body. She squirmed back onto them, so desperate for more, so desperate to come. She pulled on his cock hard. He groaned against her hair.

He knew exactly what he was doing. "Don't stop that, don't stop that, witch."

Hermione let out a sob of need. His hand returned violently to clamp hard on her mouth again.

"I said ― you will be silent. I know what you want, witch, I know what you want. You will wait."

Hermione bit down on his palm, but rubbed with ever more skill over his turgid cock. He buried his head once more in the fragrance of her hair and came hard, moving his robes apart.

As his breathing settled, his fingers were withdrawn from her arse, and he stepped away, tucking himself in quickly. He glanced down at her dismissively. "You appear to have something on your skirt, Miss Granger. Please ensure you come to my lessons with clean uniform in future. Clean yourself at once. Five points from Gryffindor." With that, he turned and moved to the others.

Should she have been affronted? He had, after all, denied her an orgasm. But remembering all that had been said over the weekend, about control, about need, about love, she could only stare at his retreating form with adoration.

In due course, they tested their potions. Hermione's was, naturally, the most successful.

"Bravo, Miss Granger. Once again, you have denied anyone else the opportunity to exhibit their own skills. And all this despite not having beetle wings. Perhaps I am not such a fool as you think."

She merely grinned. He held her gaze a moment longer than needed, a smile playing around his mouth.

The bell rang. With a moment to spare, Hermione remembered to clean her skirt with a charm.

Ginny approached her. "God, he had it in for you today, didn't he? What was all that about? Lovers' tiff?"

"Far from it." She grinned at her friend. "See you later."

Ginny left her alone with her teacher. She knew better than to try to keep them apart.

Hermione picked up her books and crossed to his desk. Severus was sitting writing on a parchment, his hand moving fluidly over it, producing a sensual flowing script.

He glanced around the room, but avoided eye-contact with her, ensuring everyone had left. "And you were worried I would relinquish control to you?"

She did not comment on that.

"That was interesting."

"There are few opportunities like that left to us. I thought we should take advantage while we could."

She could not disagree. She watched him filling the parchment with exquisite cursive movements.

"You know I could come just watching you write?"

He continued to move his hand over the parchment, not looking up. "Would you like to put it to the test?"

"I'd rather you put me over your desk and fucked me."

With that he at last looked up, then almost immediately lowered his head again. She waited. He did not speak again and carried on writing.

She waited.

At last he finished and slowly and deliberately rolled up the parchment and replaced the quill in its holder. Then, carefully moving a few objects off his desk, as if merely tidying after a busy day, he at last stood.

With measured footsteps he walked to her and brought a hand up to push her hair off her shoulders, watching as it fell behind her. She was breathing so heavily she feared she would hyperventilate. His actions of before had ignited her need so much, her body now felt electrified, desperate for him to touch her, fill her, fuck her.

He did not look her in the eye, but his head descended to the part of her neck that he had just cleared of hair and he set about assaulting the tender flesh he found there with his mouth and teeth. Her insides writhed with the need which had been so cruelly teased and goaded.

At last, his hands came up to grab her waist. He moved her forcibly over towards his desk, backing her against it. She fell across it, knocking objects to the floor in the process. It was almost identical to their first coupling. The memory of that ignited her even more, and she started to grab frantically at his clothing. But he pushed her hands away with a grunt of displeasure and responded by ripping at her shirt instead, destroying it by tearing both sides down from the shoulders. Then he pulled her bra off, breaking the clasp at the back.

Hermione let out a loud triumphant laugh as her desire was at last addressed, as her body at last sensed the inevitability of its craving.

"Fuck yes, yes ... this is it ... what I want ... you bastard ... keeping me waiting like that ... fuck me now ... fuck me so hard I scream this place down."

Strong fingers pulled her skirt down and pushed her legs apart brutally.

With agile fingers he released himself quickly and burst out, swaying up to her. Hermione raised her head to gaze at it in rapt appreciation yet again. "I love it. I love your cock. I want it so much. Constantly. Come into me now. Now! I can't wait any longer. Don't make me wait." She was almost crying.

He pulled her forward towards him, drawing a surprised gasp of pain from her, then gripping her hips tightly, he thrust, so deep and so hard that she was forced back up the desk she had just been pulled down.

"Yes!" It had only been early morning when he had last been inside her, but Hermione's need was so great it felt like days. She pushed herself up, spurring him on in her desperation. "Move! Move, damn you. I want to feel you filling me, pounding me. Fuck! Don't stop, don't you fucking stop."

He could hardly believe this was the same woman who had earlier been questioning his choice of ingredients so accurately and insightfully (although he would never have admitted it). The contrast in her speech and personality merely heightened his own pleasure inexorably. He plunged into her harder than ever, over and over. At last, he too could not maintain his silence. As he felt himself about to burst into her, his own groan of affirmation reached her ears. "Hermione! My love. I love you. I love you." His voice morphed into the deepest moans as he came hard up into her.

"I love you too. I love you too, you know I do." She grimaced with pleasure as his cock continued to plough into her again and again. "Oh god, I can feel you ... I can feel you coming into me ... ohh ... god ..." With that, her limbs disintegrated and she shook uncontrollably on the desk, causing more objects to tumble to the floor.

By the time their bodies finally came to rest, his desk was empty.

"God," she gasped between pants, "if it's going to be like that, maybe we shouldn't leave after all."

Severus chuckled a little amidst his own rasping breaths, before pulling out and adjusting his clothing. He turned away. "I can't see you tonight. I have a meeting which will run very late. It is out of the castle and I don't know when I will be back."

"Oh." A pang of disappointment shot through her. "OK." She tried to distract her mind by mending her clothing.

"Don't worry." Severus looked at her with mild amusement. "It is only Hogwarts business. In London. I just don't want you hanging around waiting for me."

"You know I would wait for you anywhere for as long as it took."

He moved back and kissed her. "I know. But please don't trouble yourself tonight. Besides, Filch is around later. I don't want him causing trouble for you."

"As you wish. You are, after all, the one in control." She grinned at him.

"Careful," he drawled, before his face darkened. "I'll miss you."

"Me too."

"However, I think we've just created enough memories to keep us going for one night."

She smiled. "Maybe just one."

"Come to me tomorrow night."

"I will always come to you," she grinned.

Severus smiled back and leant down to kiss her deeply again. Groaning into her mouth, he could not help but let his tongue flit delectably around her wet warmth. He pulled away with a grunt of despair. "Go now. I will never be able to let you leave me otherwise. You are too exquisite to part from. Go!"

She did so, reluctantly, but swiftly.

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Hermione passed a lonely night. Her mind occasionally flickered with a niggling doubt – had he really gone to London on Hogwarts business? But as she lay in the dark, she shook the thought from her head; she had no reason to doubt the veracity of his words.

Severus was at breakfast the next day and gave her a warm smile as she entered the hall. It stirred her heart so much she had to force herself to sit still and not propel herself up onto high table to embrace him.

Lessons were becoming increasingly intense as the exams approached, and Hermione found herself in small groups consisting only of those students sitting their NEWTs that term. The teachers worked them hard, and she was reminded of how much she loved academic rigour. She threw herself into her studies, confident that in the evenings she could retire to Severus' bed and his body, reenergising for the next day.

That Tuesday night, she had gone to him. He had been waiting for her in his classroom and rushed to her as soon as she turned the door handle. They were joined before they even got past the first row of desks.

The days began to tick away. Hermione was now focusing more and more on her studies, something that Severus respected and admired. She would often bring her books to the dungeons at night and sit at the desk in his small sitting room. He would remain with her, resting in the armchair opposite, reading quietly.

As she studied, Hermione would become completely absorbed in her work, but when she did glance up, would usually find him studying her with a look of complete delight. She would smile and return to her book. Occasionally, he would drift to her side and plant a kiss on her head, comment on something she was studying, normally only to offer a constructive suggestion or improvement, then sit again in quiet contentment. Despite so much energy being expended on her work, they still ensured that not an evening went by without them making love, always drawing deepest pleasure from each other.

Potions class was just as focused on exam preparation as other lessons, although Hermione made sure she always took a seat at the rear of the class. Her teacher always spent an extra long time studying her cauldron, standing particularly close to his pupil. Anyone passing by may well have detected odd little grunts and moans, but luckily, no one ever did.

After a week, Hermione received an owl back from the Ministry confirming her acceptance of the position and saying how delighted they were with her decision. They would see her for work at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on the second of January. Hermione had also sent off for details of some flats and booked viewings for after the end of term, happy that Severus had agreed to come with her.

And so, two weeks after their trip to Edinburgh, it came to Friday afternoon, and Hermione slowly made her way to the dungeons for the last Potions lesson she would ever have. Despite the knowledge that she and Severus were about to embark on their proper life together, she felt a deep sadness as she entered his classroom for a lesson for the last time.

She was early, and he was not there. She took the time to wander around, looking carefully at all the jars, tubes and instruments on display.

Her mind suddenly and forcefully took her back: back to the first time she had sat in this room; the way she had stuck her hand so far in the air she thought she may dislocate her shoulder; the way she had been blatantly ignored by her teacher at every point. She smiled ruefully, thinking over all she had learnt: all the potions she had brewed, nearly all with great success. She thought also of all the put-downs, criticism and insults she had endured under him.

Hermione shut her eyes briefly. But it was not an image of intense potion brewing which danced behind her lids now. She saw them on his desk, his body pounding into hers for the first time. How had they come to that in only a few months? Did it matter?

Her eyes flickered open. He was standing beside his desk staring at her. His long, solemn face was set straight, but she could tell he was struggling to rein in his own emotions.

Hermione could only rush over to him. Immediately, he enveloped her in his arms and pulled her in for a brutal embrace, gripping her head and angling it to plunge his tongue hard into her as if searing her onto him. She responded equally, not wanting the moment to end. Tears tumbled uncontrollably down her cheeks. He kissed them away with tender sincerity. "It's alright. It's alright, my love, my heart ..."

A sob broke through her. "So much, Severus, so much here ... in this room ... I'm alright, I'm sorry, it's just ... so much has happened here. I would be sad anyway, but ..."

"I know ... I know ..." He kissed her again. "I feel it too. I don't know how I can teach this lesson."

But with that they heard voices outside and broke away rapidly, moving swiftly apart. The others entered, their normally ebullient pre-lesson tones already muted.

The students all sat and looked at him. They waited.

Professor Snape usually launched into an eloquent and word-perfect lecture the moment the last student was seated, but on this occasion he stood before his class completely silent.

He was staring at a point on the ground a little ahead of him, a slight frown on his face. No one spoke, unsure what to do. Still, they waited. His head came up a little and he met Hermione's eyes. She could do nothing for a moment, and they simply shared each other's desolation. But then, drawing on her deepest resolve, she turned up the corners of her mouth and smiled tenderly at him.

At last he spoke. "You are here for your final Potions lesson. I have nothing more to teach you. I have given you all you need to know in order to be more than successful in the exam. The rest is up to you. Whether you succeed or not will depend entirely on your own ability and perspicacity. I am happy to spend this lesson answering any questions or queries you may have."

At first, no one spoke; it was so rare for him to enter into any kind of dialogue with his students. His lessons had always consisted of him lecturing and them listening. They were astounded that he was willing to help them in such an unselfish and generous way.

Slowly, a hand went up, and a Ravenclaw boy inquired, almost timidly, "Professor Snape, could you please explain the differences occurring in the blood of different species of dragons, and which potions each should be used for."

"Of course, Zachary." Snape began an explanation. No one heard the first few sentences as they were all so shocked that he had addressed one of their number by his first name. Hermione smiled softly. Would it have been so hard for him to have been like this a little more?

By the end of the lesson, Snape was actually sitting on the front of his desk discoursing freely over various points which may occur on the exam. Someone dared make a joke about a silly sounding name of an ingredient and he laughed along with the rest of the class. It was such a strange sound in the classroom that the students almost lost a sense of the familiarity of their surroundings.

The end of the lesson came. Snape stood and set his face straight again. "That concludes your Potions tuition for your time at Hogwarts School. I hope you will take the knowledge imparted to you here and use it wisely and for the good of all. As for the exam, you have received the best instruction as is humanly possible. I wish you all every success. You are dismissed."

The students stood up to leave. They started to head out, but the Ravenclaw boy who had asked the first question turned back to their teacher and approached him. Snape glanced at him with confusion. The boy slowly raised his hand towards his professor. Snape looked down at the open palm as if wondering what it was, then slowly lifted his own hand and shook it firmly.

"Thank you, sir. Goodbye for now."

"Goodbye, Zachary," replied his teacher.

One by one, all the students came up to their Potions Master and shook his hand, thanking him for his teaching over the years. One by one, they left the classroom for the last time. All but one.

Hermione came up to him last. He could hardly look at her, but then moved his eyes to hers quickly. She could tell they were moist.

Hermione reached into her bag and brought something out. He looked down at it. She held it over. It was an apple.

"What is this?" he asked in bewilderment.

"An apple for the teacher. To say thank you."

He smiled and took the fruit. It was a verdant green with a slight ruby tinge on one side. Severus held it gently in his palm, rubbing the smooth skin with his fingers.

"Have some," she said.

Hermione watched him intently as he lifted the apple to his mouth and let his teeth bite into the crisp flesh. As he chewed, a smile flickered on her lips.

His eyes darted to hers. She was standing several feet apart from him, but it was suddenly as if she had moved in and embraced him. He could feel her arms around him, smell her delicious aroma; her hair tickled his face, her lips kissed his neck. He felt completely at peace and loved, as he was at their most tender and intimate moments. He inhaled in wonder and stared across at her. She had not moved. There was at least three feet between them.

"Just a little reminder of me, for the hopefully rare occasions when I cannot be with you."

"How ...?"

"I have enchanted it to contain a little of me. When you bite it, it will impart my spirit and a little of my physical presence to you. It will never decay or be finished. Look."

He glanced down at the fruit in his hand. The bite he had taken from it had vanished and it had resealed into a complete apple once again. He smiled in wonder.

"Thank you. It is perfect. You really are a very very clever witch."

"I have been well taught."

He smiled before turning away from her. Reaching under some papers on his desk, he brought out a small rectangular passage wrapped in brown paper. "I have something for you too."

"Severus ..." she began, but he was holding the object out insistently. She took it and opened the paper.

Inside was a small, battered book; a manuscript of some kind, clearly ancient. She opened it delicately. It contained copious writing, diagrams, lists, instructions, all in a small, meticulous hand; the hand of someone with a pin-sharp mind.

"What is it?"

"It is the notebook of Nicolas Flamel. Those are some of his original writings on his earliest discoveries and potions."

She could only gape, holding the object in front of her with awed reverence. "But ... how did you ...?"

"An old acquaintance of mine knew of its existence and managed to procure it for me. That is where I went the other day when I told you I had a meeting on Hogwarts business. In reality, I went to get this. I am sorry I had to lie about where I was going. I hope under the circumstances, you will forgive me."

"Forgive you!? Severus, it is ... more than I could ever have dreamed of. Thank you, my darling, thank you so much."

She rushed over and kissed him deeply.

"There will be many more gifts, but that is to say thank you for all you have given me in your time here."

They kissed again, not wanting the moment to end. "I don't want to go," she murmured into his black robes.

"No."

"Do you think I could just stay like this?"

"What? Standing in my classroom forever?"

"Yes."

He chuckled and lifted her chin so that she was looking at him. "Filch would eventually come and sweep you away. And besides, you have to get ready for this ball tomorrow. I want you to look exquisite, as I know you will."

"Only for you."

He smirked slightly. "Only for me."

The thought of the ball, and his words of encouragement, at last gave her the motivation to leave the room. With a final kiss, she tucked his gift safely in her bag and stepped back from him. Then, like all the other students, she extended her hand towards him. "Goodbye, Professor Snape. Thank you for all the extraordinary knowledge you have imparted to me so skilfully over the years. There will never be another teacher like you."

Severus Snape reached out and shook her hand. She smiled, removed her hand from his and headed for the door. Without a look back, Hermione Granger opened it and left her last ever Potions lesson.

She did not see her teacher slump in his chair, his face crumpling and his hands coming up to bury his head in them.

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You have come so far, Severus. We will allow you your little moment of private emotion.

LL xxx