Thirteen

Taste of Temptation

Several days and quite a few potions later, Severus and Contessa were to be found huddled up in the secret laboratory beside a steaming cauldronful of bright orange liquid.

Contessa was sitting with her arms folded on the workbench, watching the final stages of the potion's progress, whilst Severus carefully performed the last few clockwise and anticlockwise stirs.

Outside, the sky had darkened after a day of April showers, interspersed by brilliant sunshine and an occasional rainbow.

The first week of their holiday had been spent brewing and experimenting with potions and antidotes, but so far none of the concoctions had successfully repelled the Imperius Curse.

Severus remained unfazed. He knew the possibilities were limitless; some potion recipes had taken years to develop and perfect. It mattered not how long it took them to discover a curse-breaker; Severus was more interested in spending time with Contessa.

And she had been a delight.

Ever since the day at the Great Lake, Severus had found her happiness infectious and her company addictive. When once he had craved solitude, he now wanted nothing more than to be alone with her.

Contessa's presence seemed to satiate something he hadn't realised was missing. His outlook was transforming, and the fragile, vulnerable person who had feared exposure was learning to take off his cloak and be seen. The experience was nerve-wracking, liberating and... strange. There was something untried and unproven about this new way of being; it didn't feel like him. But it was him. More of him than he'd ever been.

Severus had taken a risk in revealing his magical abilities to Contessa. With the exception of the Dark Lord, no one knew he could fly without a broomstick, and most members of the wizarding world considered the act abhorrent, as they would any use of a Dark Art.

But not Contessa. She celebrated his mastery of flight as one might applaud the casting of one's first corporeal Patronus.

Encouraged by her serenity and wisdom and her eagerness to learn, Severus had spent hours nurturing her capabilities.

First of all, he'd taught her to harness dark feelings of despair in order to cast the charm; her propensity of openness to emotion made her naturally adept. Next came the trickier skill – to simultaneously feel hope at the same time as despair; a recalcitrant combination by definition. But Contessa harboured an innate aptitude and had made great strides towards achieving fully-controlled flight.

As he witnessed her ability to channel magic from a Dark source without it contaminating or consuming her, he became more accepting of his own darkness.

He now saw different choices available to him and fresh, invigorating experiences awaiting him. The world looked different, tasted different.

There was no vow, no agreement, and no expectation.

Their friendship – their relationship – simply was.

Severus now realised how much he craved; each snatched glance across the room caused a thumb-roll of palpitations, and each inadvertent caress of her hand produced electricity as never before.

But he knew his hopes and dreams would have to stay on hold until the Dark Lord fell.

He could not, would not, take her as a lover during such dangerous times.

Severus needed not the distraction.

Evidently, though, he needed her.

And with each passing day their mutual affection blossomed, augmented whenever their eyes met or their skin touched.

He felt certain now: she belonged to him.

"It's ready," Contessa said, halting his hand with the soft caress of her fingertips.

A new charge of current surged through his arm.

Her blue-grey eyes were serious as she met his gaze.

Severus removed a small bottle from inside his robes and scooped a ladle of potion which he poured deftly into the clear-glass flagon. Contessa padded across the room and placed the potion bottle on the mantelpiece whilst Severus extinguished the flames beneath the cauldron.

"I'm turning on the radio, Severus," Contessa said as she fiddled with the tuning dial and extracted her wand. "Potterwatch hasn't been on for weeks, but I want to give it another try."

Severus nodded as he tidied away their ingredients. The radio crackled with static as he ambled over to the leather armchair by the fireplace. Languidly, he cast a charm to stoke the fire before sitting down and resting his feet on the footstool.

His mind wandered to what they might have for dinner, assuming he could prolong his time with Contessa by persuading her to join him.

Unexpectedly the radio gasped into life, only to play a love song which caused Contessa a frustrated sigh.

"Leave it for now," Severus said, tiredness creeping into his voice. "You've given the password and set the frequency. Be patient."

Contessa slumped heavily into the other armchair.

With a lazy flick of his wand, Severus Summoned the potion flagon from the mantelpiece, directing it to hover in front of Contessa.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "You want me to test this now?"

"There's no time like the present."

With a grumbling murmur, she grasped the bottle and unstopped the cork. "Same drill as before?"

"Yes."

She swallowed the potion in one gulp.

"Mmmm... tastes a bit chocolatey." She sat back in her seat, contemplative. "And... ooh... marmalade."

"How do you feel?"

Her brow furrowed. "Fine."

"Let's do it, then." Severus sounded slightly jaded as he extracted his wand. "Imperio."

The spell caught Contessa with a visible shudder. Severus watched her expression relax, and with each passing second she seemed to become... vacant. Severus was suddenly keen and vigilant. Something was different this time; she wasn't repelling the curse on her own.

After a brief moment of hesitation, he sent the usual command. Dance.

Contessa stood up, leaned towards the mantelpiece and turned up the radio. The warbling tones of Seline Sedbergh filled the room, singing a melancholy tune which spoke of the reunion of hearts gone astray. Severus wanted to hex the disc jockey into next week, right then and there.

Before he could control his impulses, Contessa was standing before him, offering her hand.

What was she doing?

But even as his rational mind fought to catch up, his hand was already in hers and he was standing up.

She guided his hands to nestle in the small of her back and then ran her fingers up his chest until they rested either side of his shirt collar. She pressed her body against his, wrapping him in her embrace.

Her body began to sway, forcing his feet to move to a slow dance.

Severus didn't dare look at her. He couldn't bear the blank expression he expected to see on her face, reminding him that her actions were merely the result of the Imperius Curse.

Dread filled him from his throat to his stomach.

He knew Contessa would remember the entire event after the curse lifted, but even so, it was all he could do to stop himself from taking advantage and pressing his lips against hers.

She was so close, so warm, so beautiful; this might be his only chance to make her his.

He rested his chin against the side of her head and inhaled her scent: heady, seductive jasmine. Her soft hair brushed against his cheek as she moved closer still.

Severus's resolve crumbled as each stroke of her breath on his neck drew him in, enticing him to make use of the opportunity so willingly presenting itself.

But the taste of temptation was bittersweet. Whilst he might profit fleetingly from the deed, he would never know if Contessa had given herself freely, and he couldn't bring himself to exploit her in this way. He wouldn't violate her trust.

As the haunting chorus of the song repeated and faded, Severus held Contessa in his arms, not wanting the moment to end.

And then, as if on cue, the radio hissed with a swirl of static and Potterwatch blared out through the speakers.

It was the ultimate mood-breaker.

Severus let go of Contessa and swiftly commanded her to administer the antidote.

She swallowed the liquid obediently, and very quickly her expression became alert.

They stood facing each other by the fire as the Order of the Phoenix broadcast began, and Lee Jordan introduced his two regular contributors to the audience.

Contessa's colour began to rise.

She looked sheepishly at Severus.

"Oh my God... What happened?"

Severus cleared his throat. "It seems we've invented a potion which potentiates the Imperius Curse, rather than negating it. I take it you were unable to block the curse?"

Contessa rubbed her forehead. "I was completely unaware it had even been cast. It all seemed so... natural." She slumped into her armchair, embarrassed. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"For forcing you to dance with me," she said, mortified.

Severus couldn't help but laugh. Contessa looked up at him, confused.

"I've just Imperio'd you, and you are apologising to me?" With an amused frown, Severus flopped into his seat.

Contessa stared at him. "Uh-hum." She laughed nervously.

"Perhaps," Severus said, "I should've given a more specific command."

Contessa shook her head immediately. "I'd kill you if you'd made me tap-dance."

Severus smiled. "Entirely understandable."

"Severus?"

"Hmmm?"

"That potion we made – you realise how...?"

"Dangerous it is? Yes."

"In the wrong hands..."

"I know."

"It's not what we were hoping for, is it?"

Silence lingered as they listened half-heartedly to Kingsley Shacklebolt's deep, measured voice, followed by Remus Lupin announcing Hagrid's recent departure from Hogwarts.

Shortly afterwards, a new correspondent was introduced to the airwaves, and Contessa shifted in her chair. She peered at Severus awkwardly.

"We should Vanish the remainder of that potion and burn our notes," she said. "Don't you think?"

Severus considered his reply. Whilst Contessa's concerns were legitimate, Severus wasn't likely to forget the formulae in a hurry.

He nodded once. "I'll do it."

As he hauled himself to his feet, he listened to Contessa chuckling at the inane drivel coming from the new Potterwatch contributor, Rapier, whom Severus assumed to be one of the Weasley twins. The young man was suggesting that the 'Chief Death Eater' was in need of a holiday abroad.

Irritated by the flippancy of the monologue, Severus crumpled the parchment on the workbench into a ball and threw it onto the fire. He then went over to the cauldron containing the antidote and Vanished it.

"Point is, people, don't get lulled into a false sense of security, thinking he's out of the country,"* Weasley was saying.

It was the first sensible thing the broadcaster had said.

"Maybe he is, maybe he isn't,"* Weasley continued, "but the fact remains he can move faster than Severus Snape confronted with shampoo when he wants to, so don't count on him being a long way away if you're planning on taking any risks."*

Severus glimpsed Contessa covering her mouth and averting her eyes, cheeks glowing crimson.

Impervious to insult, Severus made the most of the moment's distraction.

He retrieved a small flagon from inside his robes and surreptitiously filled it to the brim with the vivid orange potion.

Without a word, he tucked the bottle out of sight.

Severus Vanished the cauldron's contents before resuming his seat in front of the fire.

---

Heir of Slytherin

"Tess... Wake up!"

The sound of Severus's voice snaked into Contessa's consciousness. She felt an insistent nudging against her arm and a heavy weight sitting on the bed. She opened her eyes slowly to the flickering light of the candle on her bedside table. The illumination hurt her eyes, and she rolled over to escape.

Severus's firm grip on her arm stopped her. She wondered if she were dreaming.

"Tess," he hissed again.

This time Contessa recognised the urgency in his voice, and she fought past the bilious trickle of melatonin lulling her back to sleep. As the dark room came into focus, she saw Severus leaning over her, haematite eyes glinting in the candlelight.

"Is that you, Sev...?" she murmured.

"Wake up! The Dark Lord is here."

Adrenaline crashed through her body. She rose onto her elbows and sat up in bed. Severus muttered a Lumos Charm, and her bedchamber illuminated, dazzling her eyes.

Blinking away the searing pain of flooded retinas, Contessa squinted at Severus, taking in his concerned face. She ran her fingers through her hair and rubbed sleep from her eyes.

"Here? At Hogwarts?"

"I've just left him alone in the castle grounds. He'll be meeting me inside shortly."

Contessa gulped, her mouth dry. "What do you need me to do?"

Severus frowned and looked towards the curtained window. "Dawn is almost breaking. The Dark Lord will expect to find you in my bed." His bottom lip quivered.

Contessa noticed his unease mirrored her own, and she knew they had no time for fear. "Right, well, we better get this show on the road."

She threw back the bed sheets and climbed out of bed, leaving Severus sitting on its edge. He was looking at the floor, swallowing hard. "You'll need to be dressed accordingly..." He stopped when he noticed her full length, deep blue negligee.

From the look on his face, her appearance sufficed. She turned to retrieve her silk robe, exposing the long stretch of bare skin down her back, covered only by the nightdress's crossover straps. Severus's gaze lingered at the top of her pelvis. He blinked and stood up slowly.

They walked into her living room and tossed some Floo Powder into the fire. Emerald flames transported them forthwith to Severus's quarters.

They stood, befuddled, for a few long moments.

Eventually, Contessa ventured, "What do you want me to do?"

Severus opened his mouth and closed it again. Wide-eyed, he glanced away from her. "I don't know."

"Is he expecting you to wait up for him?"

"Yes."

"Then, if I was your Imperiused lover, I would stay up with you, would I not?"

Severus clenched and unclenched his hands. "Yes. You probably would."

"What's the matter, Severus?"

He looked at her nervously. "Are you sure you can do it?"

"What do you mean?"

"The Dark Lord could be here for some time. It would require a degree of acting, of which, I fear, neither of us is capable."

"You mean I'm not up to it?"

Severus bit his lip. "What if he interrogates you? Manipulates you? Uses you to provoke me? You wouldn't last two seconds."

"Don't worry about me," Contessa snapped, although she didn't feel the bravado her tone attempted to convey.

"But I will worry. I don't need the distraction."

Contessa shifted her feet in awkward silence.

"Imperio me, then," she said. "Do it now."

Severus shook his head. "I've already spent five long minutes at your bedside considering Imperioing you in your sleep." His eyes darted to meet hers. "But even if you're willing, you'll break past it eventually. The curse won't last very long on a mind as strong-willed as yours."

Contessa's frustration coiled through her body. She knew the truth of his words and the enormity of the situation; they were ill-prepared for this moment.

"If only we hadn't Vanished yesterday's potion..." she said regretfully.

Severus grimaced.

"What?" Contessa asked.

He seemed to take in a deep breath. Then, with movement so subtle that it might not otherwise be noticed, Severus dipped his hand into his frock-coat pocket and retrieved a small potion flagon filled to the brim with bright orange potion.

Contessa's heart skipped a beat as she recognised the contents of the bottle.

"You kept some?" she asked disbelievingly.

Severus winced. "I..." His attempt at explanation died on his lips. "I'm sorry..."

"No," Contessa countered abruptly. "Don't be sorry. It's just what we need to get us out of this mess."

Severus appeared visibly relieved. "I don't have the antidote; I don't know how long it will last."

Contessa shrugged. "It's better than nothing."

She took the bottle from his hands and swallowed the potion in one large gulp.

Sweet marmalade slid down her throat, warming her once more from the inside. All her worries and all her thoughts escaped out with a long breath.

Relaxed, she turned to Severus, floating into his bottomless dark eyes as he raised his wand and cast the Imperius Curse.

His voice, velvet and hypnotic, spoke its command in her mind.

You are mine.

Contessa closed her eyes and inhaled.

She was his.

Somehow she'd known this to be true for longer than these few seconds.

Severus didn't have to tell her to lie down on the sofa, to rest the side of her head on his lap and allow her hair to be stroked; all of that came naturally.

For half an hour, Contessa lay docile, her scalp tingling from Severus's ministrations, peaceful and contented.

When Lord Voldemort entered the room, she noticed her earlobe was aching against Severus's thigh.

"My Lord," she heard Severus saying as she moved to let him rise.

Contessa watched him kneel before the Dark Lord and kiss his hand.

"And this," Voldemort said in his high, cold voice, "must be Griselda's great-granddaughter."

Fearless, Contessa rose to standing, watched Severus step away, and sank to her knees to kiss the feet of the heir of Slytherin. His boots were wet and muddy.

"My Lord," she heard herself saying with calm serenity. "It is an honour to serve you."

Voldemort's white lips twisted into a serpentine smile. He offered his hand, which Contessa gratefully kissed, before dipping her head once again.

"What a fine choice you've made, Severus. I see now why you wished her to remain at Hogwarts."

With her eyes fixed on the scarlet and gold rug, Contessa sensed the Dark Lord raising his wand. She felt the solid presence of Severus standing behind her.

"Look at me, Marchbanks," Voldemort commanded.

Without hesitation, Contessa looked into his red slit-like eyes. The Dark Lord cocked his head, and his piercing gaze sent her falling into a black, echoing well.

She instinctively knew which memories to call forth, as if someone were guiding her.

Contessa recalled the night before, dancing to The Magic We Made by Selina Sedbergh, Severus's chin resting against the side of her head. Then, sitting by the Great Lake, resting her head on her knees as she watched Severus's hair being teased by the breeze. And then – more? – held tight in his arms as they floated above the lake...

The gong of the Doorbell Charm sounded, and the foray into her memories ceased.

"Interesting," Voldemort mused. He lowered his wand and ran his fingers contemplatively along its length. "She serves you willingly, Severus. Her emotions suggest something deeper..."

"My Lord?" There was a hint of hoarseness in Severus's voice.

Contessa remained at the Dark Lord's feet, silent and obedient.

"Her devotion lies beyond the realms of the Imperius Curse. She has the blinding loyalty of someone who loves..."

Voldemort was cut short by the sound of the door opening and the clattering arrival of the Carrows.

Contessa followed the Dark Lord's gaze and looked at Severus, whose countenance appeared troubled. Moving away from the Dark Lord, she curled her arm around Severus's elbow and rested her head against his arm.

Soon the new arrivals were seated on the antique sofas, with Contessa at Severus's side.

Voldemort continued to scrutinise Severus. "The Imperius Curse is a marvellous thing," he said idly.

Contessa watched the Dark Lord's pale fingers caressing his wand, knowing his comment was no throwaway remark. Severus's body seemed tense as he wrapped his hand around hers.

Voldemort pointed his wand at Contessa again. "Imperio."

The sensation of sweet, warm nectar filled Contessa's mind.

She didn't intentionally move a muscle, but she found herself standing and removing her silk robe. Cool air grazed her exposed back and shoulders as she settled down on the sofa beside the Dark Lord and gently placed her hand against the side of his head.

Leaning in, she pressed her forehead against his glistening white skin, her lips almost touching the edge of his ear. She ran her hand down his neck and rested it in the V of his robes, and she felt his bony chest rise and fall under her touch.

She held herself there for a few seconds awaiting further command, before feeling compelled to look across the room at Severus and smile seductively.

Severus was thin-lipped but otherwise expressionless.

With a loud pop, Binky the house-elf appeared suddenly in the room with a selection of spirits and four glasses. The elf bowed and promptly vanished.

Voldemort shrugged Contessa to one side and leaned forward, helping himself to a large measure of brandy.

The nectar in Contessa's head trickled away, leaving her feeling shaken. But then a new wave encompassed her, inducing her to stand, walk away from the Dark Lord, and sit on the floor by Severus's feet.

She stroked his knee tenderly and looked up to see a flicker passing through his eyes: concern and, possibly, a question.

Severus's head jerked when the Carrows addressed him.

Contessa listened to the conversation for a while – something about a new wand had appeased Voldemort, after Harry Potter had slipped through his fingers at Malfoy Manor. Someone called Wormtail paid the ultimate price for betrayal.

The words hypnotised Contessa into a drowsy haze. She rested her head against Severus's knee, dozing.

Eventually she awoke as the room was being vacated, and Severus scooped her up in his arms and carried her to his bed.

Inside the bedchamber, he turned down the sheets with magic and placed Contessa carefully on the mattress.

He covered up her cold arms with the heavy brown blanket then leaned against the wooden post at the foot of the bed.

Sleep now.

At his command, she closed her eyes and drifted away.

Contessa awakened once in the night and felt the weight of Severus's hand resting on her upper arm. She turned to find him asleep, fully clothed, on top of the quilt.

It did not seem odd that she should feel so at ease.

She smiled sleepily and slipped back into her dream.

When Contessa awoke later that morning, Severus was gone.

She reached out and touched the indentation in the blanket. It was cold.

Feeling increasingly nauseous, Contessa heaved herself out of bed, swaying with disorientation.

She staggered towards the door to the bathroom and pushed it open. She barely made it to the toilet before she threw up.

Flushing the toilet clumsily, she watched the vomit swirl away.

On her knees, she wrenched herself towards the washing basin and ran the cold water, swilling out her mouth and dousing her brow. She hoped the water would quell the vertiginous rush of memories: the feel of the Dark Lord's white, glistening skin at her fingertips and the recollection of her declaration of servitude at his feet.

Contessa stared at the plughole, fronds of long hair soaking up the water, dragging her down into the abyss.

Then there were firm hands around her shoulders, wrapping her in a warm cloak and pulling her away from the sink. She fell back into Severus's arms, wet and shivering.

He sat with her on the bathroom floor with his arm around her. His other hand stroked her long, brown hair and cradled her head against his shoulder.

The sounds of the running tap and the draining water broke the silence.

Contessa trembled in his arms. She knew Severus had done all he could to protect her, and eventually a sob clawed its way out of her chest.

He took her hand in his and held her close.

---

The Hardest Word

The only sound in the Headmaster's office came from the scratching of Severus's quill as he worked through a pile of correspondence from the Ministry of Magic.

After he'd run a bath for Contessa, he'd visited her quarters to retrieve some robes, which he'd laid out ready for her on his bed. Not wanting to rush her, Severus had left his quarters to give her space.

The stack of parchments now balanced precariously on the end of his desk provided a welcome distraction as he waited for her to reappear. He treasured her proximity; however, as time marched on, Severus became edgier as he awaited her arrival.

Something had been said last night, a word had been spoken, the truth of which he needed to know.

But, the longer Contessa took, the more intense his nervousness grew, and he no longer knew if he even had the courage to say the word out loud.

"Excuse me, Severus," said Dumbledore's voice from behind him.

Severus turned to face the portrait.

"I have a message from my portrait at Griselda Marchbanks' home," Dumbledore said.

Severus was on his feet immediately, studying the bright blue eyes of the former headmaster. The old man took a seat in the portrait's throne-like chair.

"A relative has arrived and wishes to come to Hogwarts to visit Tess," Dumbledore said, clearly unaccustomed to being a messenger.

"A visitor?" Severus asked. "Who, exactly?"

"Oh, she didn't say," said Dumbledore blithely.

Severus grunted under his breath. The last thing he wanted today was an unwelcome guest. He had plans. There was a conversation to be had, at the very least. He bolstered himself, ready to face Contessa when she finally graced him with her presence.

"Tell the visitor to arrive at the castle gates at five o'clock this afternoon. Filch will answer the call, and I'll instruct the Dementors to stay away." Severus withdrew his wand and sent the requests magically.

Dumbledore huffed as he heaved himself out of his chair and stepped out of his portrait to deliver the message.

Severus sat down again at his desk and picked up his quill. His stomach churned as he glanced at his timepiece. It was eleven o'clock in the morning. He had the best part of the day to spend with Contessa before handing her over, and he needed to make things right.

The Dark Lord's visit had been difficult for both of them. Contessa had been a puppet-on-a-string at the command of the man responsible for her fiancé's and father's deaths. Whilst she now wrestled with the aftermath of feelings, Severus, too, had almost fallen foul of his own emotions.

His skin crawled when he'd watched Contessa wrapping herself around the Dark Lord. Severus couldn't bear to see her sullied by the Dark Lord's manoeuvring, knowing that she had been used purely to elicit a response from him. He had managed to contain himself in front of the master Legilimens, but only just.

They had narrowly escaped exposure, and Severus had spent the rest of the night consumed by the terrorising nearness of threat. The hazard had always been there, of course. But the difference now sprang from his well of feelings, flowing untamed like never before. Severus was sickened by the thought that their relationship might put her at risk. If it hadn't been for him, the situation would never have come to pass; Contessa wouldn't have been traumatised, and he wouldn't be feeling so damned responsible for it all.

He couldn't bear to see Contessa's safety jeopardised; he wouldn't lose her like he lost Lily. Not at the hands of the Dark Lord.

Not ever, if he had anything to do with it.

And he knew one thing for certain: he'd do everything in his power to protect her and keep her out of harm's way, for as long as he lived.

He intended to make it up to her today. He had to.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs pulled Severus out of his reverie. The ink of his quill had dried whilst he'd stared vacantly across the room. He placed the white plume into the inkpot and watched Contessa descend the stairs from his quarters. She appeared brighter and less sickly than before, wearing the formal teaching robes he'd left out for her. The smell of essential oils followed her like a scented cloud.

Contessa looked down at her attire. "I take it there's a reason I'm dressed like a professor today?" she asked, shaking her arms in their sleeves.

Severus stood up, put on his frock coat, and fastened its buttons diligently with well-practised fingers. As he shrugged on his cloak, Contessa looked slightly overwhelmed.

"We're spending the day in the castle grounds," he explained. "A mock interview, as far as the other residents of Hogwarts are concerned. We'll do the full tour; it'll do you good to get some fresh air."

Contessa's smile was sorrowful, and Severus's heart pressed softly against his sternum.

"That sounds lovely, Headmaster," she said, relieved.

Some of Severus's tension drained away. His shoulders relaxed.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Alright. The bath oil was nice and soothing, what was it?"

"Bergamot."

"I thought so." Contessa frowned. "I must've had delayed shock. Last night I was so serene and peaceful, under your curse and... latterly... his. It's as though my body took time to catch up."

Severus watched her closely, wondering what thoughts were foremost in her mind. Perhaps he could reach inside and seize them...

He reprimanded himself for considering such an infringement. He would have to do this the old-fashioned way. He took a deep breath.

"The Dark Lord said something last night, after he used Legilimency on you," Severus began tentatively. "Do you remember?"

Contessa blinked, her eyebrows pinching together in concentration. "No, not really..."

Her eyes searched his for a clue.

Petrified of saying the hardest word of all, Severus's heart began to clatter like a panicked bird trapped in a metal cage. He was within a hair's breadth of folding, but he had to know, one way or another.

"He said your devotion lay beyond the Imperius Curse," he began shakily, "that your emotions... suggested... you loved..."

Dumbledore reappeared vociferously in his portrait at the same time as the Doorbell Charm rang. Severus's heart stumbled, forestalled on the edge of a cliff, watching the gravel beneath his feet plunging to the watery depths below.

Before he knew what was happening, Contessa was standing in front of Dumbledore's portrait, receiving the news that the family guest had Disapparated ahead of schedule. Judging by the look on Contessa's face, she hadn't heard at all the last words Severus had uttered.

When the latch on the door turned, Severus knew the visitor was already upon them. Contessa turned excitedly to face the door as Severus fought the urge to hex the intruder to oblivion.

As the entrance opened, Severus crossed his arms against his chest, erecting his defensive wall.

A handsome, almost burly man strode confidently into the room with Argus Filch several paces behind, panting for breath.

"Nate!" Contessa exclaimed as the dark-haired man swept her up in his tanned, muscular arms and swung her around the room like a small child.

When her feet found the floor again, she wrapped her arms around the intruder, enveloping him in a bear hug.

Severus dismissed Filch with a wave of his hand. The caretaker looked contrite as he closed the door.

"What are you doing here?" Contessa asked the visitor, her voice full of wonder.

"Come to see my little sister, of course," the man replied, flashing a pearly-white smile. His hazel eyes sparkled. "I've made it home in time for your birthday."

Severus's nostrils flared. Her birthday? How had he not known it was her birthday? That only served to add insult to his injury.

He held back a growl.

"It's not for a few days yet, Nate. Not that I expect you to realise," she said, almost reprovingly.

Contessa was beaming at the man. Beaming.

It was, for all intents-and-purposes, as if Severus wasn't in the room.

And it was his bloody office.

He cleared his throat with a long, dragging rumble.

Brother and sister turned to look in his direction, Contessa radiating happiness, her hand curled around her brother's arm. She ushered the man towards Severus.

"Nate, let me introduce you to Sev..."

Severus shot a piercing look which halted Contessa's lapse. Her head dropped apologetically, and Severus eyed her, satisfied he had prevented the disclosure.

So engrossed was he in her features, Severus failed to notice her brother had walked towards him. A moment later he was being slapped hard on the back with a hand the size of a Quaffle.

"Severus Snape," said the curiously accented voice from behind him.

"Nate," Contessa said, stifling a giggle, "you're not in the Outback now!"

Severus turned to get a better look at the man – he was about the same height as Severus, but more heavily-built, wearing torn jeans and a checked shirt. His smile was broad, revealing a set of perfectly straight teeth. Contessa's brother placed his hands casually inside the pockets of his jeans as he sauntered back to her side.

Severus's composure broke into a sneer. He recognised the man – a student in the year below himself at Hogwarts – he had been a Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Nathan Marchbanks." Severus glowered.

Nathan nudged Contessa's arm with his elbow and returned Severus another toothy smile. Severus was about ready to break his jaw.

"You can call me Nate," Nathan said sociably.

"And you can call me Professor Snape."

Contessa's hand slipped around Nathan's elbow, beseeching him to stay at her side.

Severus smirked.

"You two know each other?" she said uncertainly.

"Not really," Nathan answered. "You were in the year above me, weren't you? In Slytherin?"

Severus nodded once.

"Weren't you best friends with Lily Evans before she started going out with James Potter?"

Contessa's eyes bulged, and she tugged insistently on her brother's arm.

"You remember Lily, don't you, Tess?" Nathan continued, undeterred. "You were in the Slug Club together."

Contessa blanched gauchely.

Red hot fingernails clawed their way up Severus's back. How had he not made that connection? How many other things had he missed?

Severus was glad he was not holding his wand, as untold curses and hexes would have fired unrestrained. He grappled with the edges of his control.

"I seem to recall," Severus said, his voice as cold as ice, "you were instructed to arrive later this afternoon."

Nathan looked at Severus as if he hadn't a care in the world. Severus wondered how cheery he might be if subjected to the Cruciatus Curse, or if his perfect white teeth were being extracted one by one...

"Why, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Nathan asked.

Severus shot Contessa a pointed look, expecting her to explain her commitments to her brother before politely asking him to leave. However, from her countenance, it was clear she'd forgotten the afternoon he'd planned for them as soon as Nathan had walked into the room.

Severus's heart constricted as he watched her torn expression.

"Headmaster, I..."

"If you are serious about the Care of Magical Creatures Professorship, Madam Marchbanks, you will remain at Hogwarts until sundown."

Nathan scoffed, turning towards Contessa. "You're up for the Care of Magical Creatures job?" he asked, laughing. "You're kidding me! You can't tell a Crup from a Jack Russell, let alone converse with a Jarvey. Remember when I persuaded you to cancel the Silencing Charm on Uncle Hector's Fwooper? Mum was nearly driven to distraction by the bird's singing by the time Hector found out. He nearly had his Fwooper licence taken away. It was so funny!"

"It wasn't funny, Nate," she admonished. "You got me into loads of trouble with Uncle Hector. I couldn't tell him it was your idea because he Silenced me for the rest of the day."

Nathan grinned reminiscently, and eventually Contessa smiled too.

Severus felt his ire rising with each passing second.

After her encounter with the Dark Lord, Nathan was giving Contessa something she needed, and it was one thing with which Severus couldn't hope to compete; Contessa's brother offered a plentiful source of distraction. Nathan shared a vast history of memories, stories and experiences with the woman whom Severus loved.

They were only halfway through the Easter holiday, and Contessa was slipping away, becoming wrapped up in her brother's easy charm, comfortable in his assured and calming presence.

Severus's lip curled as jealousy spiked, causing bile to rise in his throat.

"Thanks, Nate," Contessa said. "You've probably just cost me the job. I was supposed to be touring the grounds with the Headmaster today as part of my interview."

Finally, the words Severus had hoped to hear. Too late, though.

"Are you going to offer Tess the job, Snape?" Nathan asked bluntly.

Severus took his time to answer. Contessa's bluish-grey eyes pleaded with him silently.

Damn.

Damn, damn, damn.

"No," Severus said shortly, uncrossing his arms and striding to the back of his desk. He swept his cloak to one side and sat down, taking his quill and reaching for a new parchment. As he dipped the feather into the inkwell, he looked up at them again. "Why are you still here?"

Contessa appeared crestfallen as Nathan grabbed her by the hand and dragged her to the door.

"Maybe you could take me on a grand tour of Hogwarts? I'd like to see how much it's changed." The twang of Nathan's accented voice grated on Severus's nerves like fingernails on a blackboard.

And then Severus was alone in his office, staring at the door closing behind Contessa.

The nib of his quill scratched through the parchment below and snapped, covering his fingers with green ink.

Severus balled his fist and thumped the desk. The vibration sent the stack of parchments scattering across the floor.

---

The Great Wall

Contessa's hand was being crushed as Nate led her out of the Entrance Hall and through the courtyard. The mild, humid breeze caressed her face as she stumbled behind her brother on the gravel pathway outside the castle.

"Nate, slow down!" she gasped.

He stopped and turned to face her.

"I can't believe you're cooped up here with that greasy git!"

"He's not greasy, Nate," Contessa said irritably. "Grow up!"

"Grow up? Are you kidding me? You hate that man – you did nothing but complain about him in your seventh year."

"He's changed."

"Yeah, so I heard."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"He's You Know Who's right-hand-man, is he not?"

Contessa snatched her hand away. "I'm not having this conversation with you; I can't believe we're arguing already." She sighed and set off for the castle gates. Her brother's footsteps thudded behind her. "When did you get back?" she asked.

"This morning." Nate stuffed his hands in his pockets as he stepped into pace at her side.

"How long are you home for?"

"At least a month."

"Wow! Really?"

"Yeah. Reckon I need to hang around for a while. Listening to Gran today sent shivers down my spine. Things have really changed these last few months."

"I know," Contessa said regretfully.

Nate nudged her arm with his elbow. "But, hey – look at you! Up for a professorship at Hogwarts! How did you manage to get a job here in the first place?"

"Dumbledore set up the position for me before he died."

"You kept that one quiet."

"Well, I've not seen you for over a year! And you've not written to me since Alex's funeral last summer."

"Yeah. Sorry about that. You know I would've come home if I'd known, but your owl didn't reach me in time. I'd been potholing for a while – it made me hard to locate."

Contessa smiled. Her brother had always been the daredevil of the pair. She looked him up and down, taking in his healthy physique and his tanned skin. "It's good to see you."

Nate grinned. "I'm here to whisk you away, Tess – get you out of this place. What are you doing closeting yourself up with Death Eaters? Surely it's not work for the Order?"

"It is," Contessa replied. "Sort of." She bit her lip.

"I can't believe that," Nate said, shaking his head.

Contessa wrinkled her nose. "I'm not asking you to."

"Come on, Tess. I'm your big brother. You can tell me anything!"

Contessa dipped her head, ignoring his comment. When they reached the gates, she passed through and waited for Nate to follow. "Let's go and get some lunch at Hogsmeade," she said.

Nate crossed his arms and didn't budge, staring at her with a crooked smile.

Contessa rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in the air. "Alright, then! There's someone at Hogwarts."

Nate crossed the boundary and waited whilst Contessa secured the gate. "I knew it!"

"How?" she said charily.

"I could just tell." Nate grinned as he set off down the lane. "Who is he? Someone at Hogsmeade? One of the shopkeepers?"

Contessa hid behind her hair in an attempt to cover her crimson cheeks.

"Come on, Tess. Tell me!"

"No," she said firmly. "It's nothing, really. We're not together or anything."

"Does he fancy you?"

Contessa glared at her brother. "I don't know. Sometimes, I think he does."

"You should ask him out."

"I can't do that."

"Course you can!"

"It's not that simple."

"I'll ask him for you."

"No. You won't."

"Tess, it's time you moved on, fall in love again, you know?"

She took a moment to reply. "I already am. In love, I mean. But it's complicated."

"God, he's not married, is he?"

"No."

"Tell me who he is, then."

"No. Anyway, stop harping on about it. You're not exactly the world authority on sustaining long-term relationships. Why are you really here? Running from a girl again, are you?"

Nate grimaced. "Might be."

"I knew it!"

Nate shook his head. "We can still read each other like a book."

"Let's not talk about our love lives then, shall we?"

"Agreed."

"Where are you staying?" Contessa asked.

"With Gran. But I thought it'd be nice to see Squirrel's Leap again, and I want to take you out for your birthday. Come away with me for a few days, Tess, before term starts?"

"I don't know if I can."

"Of course you can! Snape's told you you've not got the job. And you can spare a few days out of your complicated love life, can't you? Come home with me."

Contessa knew her excuse for remaining at Hogwarts had now been relinquished and her necessary evasiveness had backed her into a corner. She sighed resignedly. "He won't like it."

"Who won't? The man?" Nate said with amusement. "He'll get over it. It'll stop him taking you for granted. Let's go back to the castle and pack your trunk." He tugged on her arm to stop her from walking any further. "Gran would love to see you." His hazel eyes twinkled.

Contessa knew she wouldn't be able to refuse him.

"OK," she said with a sad sigh.

---

"I can't believe you've got to ask Snape's permission!" Nate exclaimed as they ascended the spiral staircase to the Headmaster's office.

"It's not permission, Nate. It's good manners."

"He's got you right where he wants you," Nate muttered.

Contessa tossed him another glare. "Behave yourself when you're in there, OK?"

Nate shrugged. "Sure."

After knocking and opening the door, Contessa found Severus still seated behind his desk, with several balls of screwed-up parchment dotted around the tabletop and floor. He watched her through heavily-lidded eyes.

"Headmaster," she began hesitantly.

Severus made a show of dropping his quill onto the desktop and threw her an intolerant look.

"My brother wants to take me back to see my family for a few days."

Severus sneered. "Are you seeking my permission, Marchbanks?"

Contessa was about to reply, but Nate interjected, "She doesn't need your permission, Snape. She's being – what is it they call it? – polite."

Severus's dark eyes gleamed.

Nate stepped forward. "Go and pack, Tess. I'll wait here with Snape. I'm sure we'll find a few things to talk about."

Contessa started to panic. "No, Nate. That's not necessary."

"I insist." Nate's voice was a fierce hiss.

The two men were eyeballing each other maliciously, and Contessa exhaled with exasperation. The last thing she wanted to do was leave them alone together in the same room. But she also knew she had to play along with the charade.

Contessa looked at Severus helplessly.

Severus raised his wand casually, and the fireplace roared as Floo Powder hit the flames. With a jerk of his head he indicated his wish for Contessa to make a speedy trip to pack her trunk.

Unnerved, Contessa practically ran to the hearth, emerging seconds later in her dungeon quarters. Hastily, she threw an assortment of clothes together and rammed the lid down on the wooden chest, almost losing a finger in the process.

With her heart racing like a runaway train, she lugged the trunk into the Floo and materialised again in the Headmaster's office. Her luggage clunked onto the stone floor.

Severus and Nate were locked in a silent standoff, staring at each other with utmost loathing. However, their wands were not drawn.

Contessa suddenly found it easier to breathe.

"Are you ready, Tess?" Nate said. His eyes didn't leave the Headmaster.

Severus was statue-like, standing with his hands clasped in front of him, disdain oozing from every pore.

"I am," Contessa said quietly.

Nate retrieved his wand and levitated her trunk. She followed him to the door and watched him take the first few steps down the spiral staircase with her luggage in tow. The stone stairway began to move.

From the landing, Contessa called down to him. "I just need a minute, Nate. I forgot something important. Meet me in the Entrance Hall; I'll be there soon."

Before her brother could argue, Contessa turned and closed the door as she stepped back into the office.

Severus had resumed his seat behind his desk.

He assessed her suspiciously. "That was the quickest trip ever witnessed. Did you squirrel-away a Time-Turner for leisure purposes?"

His sarcasm was bait; Contessa knew that. Severus was protecting himself with armour and maintaining a distance behind his Great Wall.

Contessa also knew better than to play the game. She walked around to the side of his chair and leaned against the back of the desk, traversing the barrier.

With his personal space invaded, Severus dropped the facade. He leaned back, closed his eyes and rested his head against the soft padding of the tall chair.

Contessa watched his teeth clench together and his lips part.

"I'm sorry I have to leave," she said quietly.

His hard expression faltered and a glimmer of sadness flickered across his pale features.

Contessa reached out and laid a hand on his arm, feeling the soft woollen fabric of his frock-coat and the rounded edges of buttons abrading her fingertips. His armour melted under her touch.

Severus opened his eyes and stared into space.

"When is it your birthday?" he asked huskily.

"In three days' time."

Severus nodded once. "Go," he said softly.

Contessa squeezed his arm tenderly and pulled away with a long stroke. Severus gazed at the floor.

At the doorway, she turned and said, "I'll keep in touch via Dumbledore's portrait."

Severus didn't reply.

She wrapped her hand around the door handle, and the iron latch creaked open.

Then, just as she was ready to depart, Severus's silken voice rippled across the room.

"Come back for the evening of your birthday, Tess."

His tone was more request than command.

"I will," said Tess.

---

Only Us

On the evening of her birthday, Tess arrived in the Headmaster's office wearing a silk dress in the shades of Ravenclaw House – dark blue and bronze.

Severus noticed the colour matched her eyes, which seemed bluer than usual, and the bronze edging of the dress's neckline and straps brought out highlights in her wavy brown hair.

Her hands brushed her hips nervously. "From your expression, I assume my appearance suffices?"

Severus cleared his throat. "Without a doubt."

"I received your owl," Tess said, smiling. She indicated to the garment thrown over her arm. "I've brought a coat instead of a cloak. I take it we're leaving the castle?"

"We are." Severus slid a tailored black jacket over his shoulders and fastened the buttons. He glanced at his watch. "We should go; we don't want to be late."

As they descended the spiral staircase, he caught Tess peeking at him with a curious look on her face. They didn't speak again until they left the castle and were approaching the boundary wall.

"Where are we going?" Tess asked.

"It's a surprise."

"A surprise?" Tess groaned. "I hate surprises."

Severus allowed himself a tight laugh. "I thought you might."

On the other side of the gate, Severus took hold of her hand and together they Apparated to a deserted country lane. The road was lined with the season's first bluebells, and the sun was setting against the stunning backdrop of the valley. A dark cloud loomed overhead, threatening rain. Tess wandered over to a nearby fence to look at the cattle in the field, grazing in the dwindling daylight hours. The sky was pinkish-yellow against the landscape's silhouette.

"Is that Pendle Hill?" Tess asked.

"You've been here before?"

"No, but I've read about the witch trials here. I've seen pictures but didn't realise this part of England was so pretty."

A drop of rain landed on the side of Severus's nose, and he looked up at the blackening clouds above them. Tess quickly buttoned up her coat whilst Severus selected a fallen tree-branch at the roadside, withdrew his wand, and Transfigured it into a umbrella.

The black brolly was just about large enough for the two of them, but Severus would've happily given the protection from rain entirely to Tess. He was delighted, however, when she huddled under its shelter and slipped her arm around his elbow.

Severus tucked his wand away. "No more magic when we get to the top of the lane," he said dryly. "Not unless you want to be strapped to a ducking stool and drowned in a pond."

Tess laughed. "I'm sure you'd save me from such a fate, Severus. That being said, we may drown in the rain before we reach our destination."

Heavy raindrops drummed on the umbrella as they walked to the top of the hill. As they turned the corner, Severus spotted a restaurant with lights shining merrily in the downpour. They hurried across the road and looked through the windows. There were no customers inside. Perfect.

Tess shivered against him as a cold gust of air almost toppled the umbrella. She squeezed his arm and smiled. "You've brought me to an Italian restaurant?"

Severus searched her features; her blue-grey eyes shone with amusement, and her hair flew about in the wind.

"I thought you'd want to get out of the castle," Severus said. "Muggle territory and Italian cuisine seemed like a safe choice."

Tess laughed, the corners of her eyes creasing into a stunning smile. Lingering tensions drained away as Severus watched the beguiling woman on his arm.

"Happy birthday, Tess."

Unexpectedly, she flung her arms around him, hugging him tight. Severus could detect the faint aroma of strawberry in her hair, and he was disappointed when she released him from her hold.

A stream of water slid from the brolly as it tilted to one side, and then Tess ducked out from underneath its cover and stepped into the restaurant's porch.

Severus closed the umbrella and passed through the door, following Tess inside. The air was warm and garlicky, and they took off their coats and hung them up to dry.

Within moments of their arrival they were greeted by the waiter and showed into the restaurant. There was a small table reserved for them beside a leaded window with a view across the purple horizon. Pendle Hill loomed ominously in the distance as storm clouds fast approached the setting sun, blotting out the remaining sunlight.

Severus had to stop himself from lighting the candle on the table with a Lumos Charm to afford them extra illumination. The waiter pulled out Tess's chair.

"This is a real treat," Tess said excitedly as she took her seat opposite Severus.

The waiter lit the candle with a gas-lighter and wandered off.

"I can't remember the last time I ate at a Muggle restaurant," Tess said in a low voice.

"Nor can I, but with the curfew, Death Eaters and Dementors at Hogsmeade, this seemed more conducive to an evening out," Severus said. "And we can't risk being seen publically together in the wizarding world."

"No," Tess agreed.

Severus was pleased by the note of sadness in her voice.

Menus arrived and they took a while to choose their meal. Occasionally Tess glanced around the restaurant and bar area, looking a little bemused.

"There's no-one else here," she whispered over the top over her menu. "I hope the food's alright."

"The food will be fine," Severus replied. "I suggested to the waiter that he should refuse further bookings tonight."

"Severus!"

"What?"

"You can't Confund a Muggle for my birthday!"

"He isn't Confunded," said Severus defensively, even though the thought had previously occurred to him. "I paid him."

Tess blushed. "So it's only us?"

"Yes," he murmured. "And the waiter."

The aforementioned man arrived at the table with a notebook and pen and proceeded to take their order.

Severus unfastened the top button of his shirt as the waiter laid out a napkin on Tess's lap and left them alone again.

"You suit that shade of green," she commented, watching Severus as he manoeuvred his dark waistcoat and straightened the cuffs of his sleeves which, in the candlelight, appeared more black than green. "You look..."

"Like a Muggle?" Severus supplied.

Tess giggled. "Not like any Muggle I've ever seen. But that's not a bad thing. You look... dark and mysterious."

Having heard the realness of the compliment she'd bestowed upon him, Severus studied her face. He couldn't remember the last time a woman had made a favourable remark or at least done so genuinely.

"You look beautiful," he offered.

"Thanks," Tess replied, slightly pink in the cheeks.

The waiter arrived with red wine, uncorked the bottle and poured it into two large glasses. All the while, Severus and Tess remained silent, snatching tentative glances across the table.

When the waiter departed, Severus was unsure what to say next. So far the evening had gone exactly as planned, but now his mind was blank and his heart was skipping like a schoolgirl playing Double Dutch.

"Have you been here before?" Tess asked.

"Pardon?"

"The restaurant."

"Oh. No. But I know the village. My mother's family are from these parts."

Tess leaned forward and rested her head on her upturned palm. "You haven't told me much about your parents."

"There's not much to tell."

"I'd still like to hear it."

Severus took a sip of his wine and settled back in his chair. He supposed this conversation was inevitable, in a way. He just hadn't banked on it happening tonight.

"My mother passed away the year I left Hogwarts. She didn't tell me she was ill, didn't tell me she was dying. She refused to seek help and just wasted away before my eyes."

"Where was your father?"

"He'd left the year before."

"What was he like?"

Severus ran his fingers through his hair, wondering how much he should say. He never talked about his family to anyone.

"I have his nose," Severus began awkwardly.

"I like your nose," Tess said.

"You wouldn't have liked him. He was a swine," Severus said bitterly.

Tess didn't respond, but her eyes searched his inquisitively.

Severus took a deep breath. "He smoked, drank, and my parents argued constantly. When I was doing my NEWTs I found out he was physically violent towards my mum and had been for years." Severus's innards twisted at the memory. "She'd been hiding the bruises and broken bones with potions and healing charms. When I witnessed an attack for myself... I sent him packing."

"What do you mean?"

"I Imperio'd him. Forced him to sign over the deeds of the house, pack his belongings – all of them – and then I slipped him a Memory Potion. I dropped him off in Cornwall and left him to fend for himself. I doubt he even knows I exist."

Tess was contemplative. "That's so sad."

Severus peered at her for a long moment, perplexed.

"You lost both of your parents within a year of each other."

"We weren't close. Hogwarts was my real home."

"Do you ever wonder what became of him?"

Severus considered his reply. "Occasionally. Mostly when I'm wishing him ill."

Their first course arrived. A wave of garlic assailed their nostrils. The waiter smiled and retreated to the bar.

"I noticed your brother hadn't changed much," Severus commented, changing the subject.

"Oh, I'm sorry about him. He was always over-protective; he drives me crazy."

"How long is he home for?"

"A month, so he says. But I can only take him in small doses. He's still a rogue, even at the age of thirty-seven. The boy got wanderlust when he finished his OWLs and the man never grew out of it."

"You and he are very different."

"Noticed that, did you?" Contessa chuckled. "I can't believe he spent three days trying to give me advice about romance. The whole notion is laughable."

"What advice did he give you?"

Caught off-guard, Tess's gaze flickered away. She ran her fingers up and down the stem of her wine glass. "You really don't want to know."

"I..."

Severus was cut off by the arrival of the waiter, who cleared away their plates and enquired after the quality of their starters. Tess stepped-in and handled the pleasantries, whilst Severus felt as though a water-filled balloon was bouncing around his abdomen.

He fidgeted with the napkin on his lap as the waiter disappeared and looked up to see Tess fiddling with the place-setting on the table. If he wasn't so nervous, he'd have laughed. They were both mature adults – how could this kind of conversation be so difficult?

Severus began to gather the courage to speak again, and just as he was opening his mouth to continue the conversation, the waiter reappeared to refill their wine.

Tess smiled at Severus's expression.

"This is what happens when you are the only customers in a restaurant, Severus. You get the full attention of the staff."

Her hand dropped to the table, and she caressed the back of his hand.

Severus watched her fingers slipping between his, feeling the warmth of her hand pressing down upon his own. With his heart in his throat, Severus was unable to speak. Nor could he move; his legs were wobbly against his chair, and his arms felt like leaden weights, paralysed at his sides.

He wanted nothing more than to reach across the table, pull her towards him, and kiss her.

And he felt certain that, once this was accomplished, the rest of his life would somehow fall neatly into place.

He could be redefined by that one act alone; the slate would be wiped clean and his core rebuilt.

A completeness which he hadn't even known he'd craved was offering itself to him, right now, in this moment.

His mouth opened to speak, but Tess was not looking his way. She was staring at their entwined hands on the tabletop.

"I suspect Nate's advice is probably right," she said. "But now is not the right time."

Tess's fingers squeezed his hand gently as she let go.

Severus felt the breath in his lungs escape with a rush, leaving a frozen, empty space in his chest. Was she talking about him? Was she saying she had feelings for him? He couldn't be sure.

He was about to risk everything; wear his heart on his sleeve and tell her how he felt. If only he could find the words and air in his lungs.

Through his indecision came more of Tess's words, shaking and sobering him.

"Hogwarts is such a dangerous place now. With the Carrows torturing students, it's only a matter of time before the abductions and murders escalate. I – we – need to keep our focus."

There was the word: 'we', not simply 'I'. She was talking about him. She must be.

"Don't you agree, Severus?"

His voice croaked in his throat as his mouth caught up with his brain. "Of course."

Tess let out a breath.

Severus was still holding onto his. He wasn't quite sure what had just happened, but he knew his opportunity had passed. Severus wondered if he'd ever find courage to say the words out loud.

When the main course arrived, it was a welcome relief. Severus steered the conversation to more familiar territory, and they talked about their Potions research for a while. They eventually came to the conclusion that their previously unheralded discovery of an Imperius Curse potentiator might provide them with a long-awaited breakthrough. The antidote had been effective and could hold the key to discovering a curse-breaker.

And so they spent the remainder of the evening listening to the rain beating against the window pane, talking about Potions, Dark Arts, Dumbledore, the Pendle witch trials, anything and everything except about their true feelings.

As such, their pattern for the next few weeks was set. When they saw each other they didn't touch, merely talked; conversation was a cover which allowed them to spend time together, during which they spoke of everything unimportant.

Every evening when Severus and Tess said goodnight and parted for their separate quarters, they would look at each other longingly from across the room. Neither uttered a word, but sometimes their eyes betrayed them.

When summer term reconvened, the Carrows' punishment of students intensified. Neville Longbottom's grandmother, Augusta, closely escaped kidnapping, and then Neville himself vanished from the school. Shortly afterwards the members of Dumbledore's Army fled.

Then, one day in the Great Hall at dinner, Terry Boot shouted out the news of Harry Potter breaking into Gringotts and escaping on the back of a dragon.

That day, everything changed.

---

Author's Note:

If you're interested in learning more about the Pendle witches, visit:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pendle_witch_trials

Where I have quoted from the original Harry Potter books, I have marked it with an asterisk.