Plotting

It occurs to me that I have yet to say I don't own these characters. JKR owns all. I made no money off this. Just friends.

Snape nearly toppled her with his weight as they landed in Manchester. She pulled at him until he followed, leading him across the street, into his house, and up the stairs.

When they reached his bedroom, she spelled the candles lit, dropped her bag on a chair, and quickly unbuttoned his robe, stripping it off before pushing him down onto the bed. She squatted down to remove his boots, but he grabbed her shoulders and dragged her back up.

In the preternatural silence of the house, his voice seemed sharp and clear. "What have you done?" he rasped.

"Severus..." She shook her head and then just pointed to the open door of the wardrobe.

He turned to the mirror and saw how the blackness had spread up his neck, and across his entire chest down to his navel. It hadn't been like that before he'd battled the monster.

"Once they realized that that creature was Lucius Malfoy, you were never going to leave the Ministry alive."

"Hermione..."

"No!" She swiped angrily at a tear. "No. You still have time. Lucius had a seizure on Saturday. He had two days of being practically brain-dead before this happened. He was in a coma for nearly two weeks before that. Don't you dare think about giving up while you're still human!"

She pulled out of his arms and dropped down, snatching his boots off. That done, she stood and folded back the coverlet on the bed. "Get in. Are you hungry?"

He shook his head and crawled under the blankets, lying back with a sigh.

She tucked him in and turned away.

He grabbed her hand. "Where are you going," he asked quietly.

"I still need ice cream."

She reached into his wardrobe, pulled out one of his white, linen shirts, and walked off.

:

A little while later she returned, wearing his overlarge shirt and nothing else, carrying a bowl of ice cream with two spoons.

She pulled down the blankets and climbed in. "Gods, I love this bed."

"Hermione..."

"I know, it's only vanilla, but I've had enough of the exotic for one day." She propped up the pillows on her side with an elbow and offered him the bowl, shoving her own spoon in her mouth. He sighed and sat up, reaching for the spoon. They ate half the bowl in silence.

"All right," she said, dropping her spoon in with a clink. "Talk. What was that thing?"

"Lucius," he answered, pulling the bowl out of her hands and holding it under his chin as he ate.

She reached over and tucked his hair behind his ear. "I know that. I'm also pretty sure that Lucius actually died on Saturday and something else took his place."

Severus sighed and set the bowl on the table next to the bed. "It was a demon," he told the ceiling.

Hermione stared at him. Without seeing his eyes or hearing his tone of voice, she had no idea if he was making fun of her or not.

"A demon," she repeated in a flat voice. "There's no such thing."

Still staring at the ceiling, he said, "The universe is not required to be in harmony with human ambition."

Her eyebrows popped up. "Did you just make that up?"

"No. Carl Sagan did. But it's apt. Just because you don't believe it doesn't mean it doesn't exist, Granger. By the same token, just because you want something to work out a certain way doesn't mean it will." He sighed and turned to her with eyes full of horror. "I thought we would just die and serve in hell. I was wrong. There's no escaping the fact that I will turn into that thing next, and now that Lucius is dead, there's probably no one left that will know how to stop me when I do."

"Then teach me how."

"The hell I will. I don't want you knowing how to do something like that. Look at me," he said, pointing to his black chest. "Did you think I was using a harmless spell? You would have to know how to bind a demon to you, and there is no way you would have the time to learn enough Dark Magic to pull that off. Your wanting it bad enough just won't cut it."

"Is that what you did? You bound the demon to you?"

"Yes. For as long as it remained on this plane. Only by forcing it to accept my will could I force it to accept banishment."

"What about holy water or suchlike?"

He snorted. "You watched too many Muggle movies. Are you suddenly Catholic?"

"Vaguely Jewish."

"Then you would just have a wet demon. Without an unyielding belief, relics have no power, no matter what religion."

"Why did it kill all those people?"

"It's evil, Granger. Hence the term, 'Demon'." Despite his snide remark, his face reflected his horror again.

She sighed and rolled towards him, taking his hand. "I won't let that happen to you, Severus. I promise, I'll kill you myself if I have to."

He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. When he opened them again, he rolled towards her and pulled her into his arms.

"Hermione, don't you think it would have been preferable to have someone else do the honors? I wouldn't have minded being taken to the Ministry."

"I know. That's why I snatched you out of there while you were still in shock. In the state you were in, you would probably have talked them into killing you tonight."

"Would that really have been so wrong?"

"It feels wrong to me, if that counts for anything."

He sighed and pulled her closer.

Hermione rested her head on his shoulder as he pulled her tight against him. It felt good to lie next to him again, to wrap her arm around his chest and listen to him breathe. So much of the conflict and upheaval seemed to slough away when they held each other like this. All that remained was the feeling of rightness, the warm bubbling emotions that defied categorization... and the knowledge that he was going to die.

She twisted her head up and kissed his cheek, and he responded with a light kiss on her forehead. She rose up and, with a question in her eyes, kissed his lips. He didn't even hesitate. He leaned his head up and kissed her again gently, teasing her mouth open and deepening the kiss.

She broke away with a sigh, "Could I have my pity shag now? I could really stand a good bit of pity."

He snorted. "I fear I've used up my quota of noble today. After what we just saw, I could do with a little pity myself." He slid his hand into her hair and pulled her close for another kiss.

Rolling them over until she was safely tucked under him, he leisurely explored her face with kisses.

Every so often, he would pull back and just look at her, with a broken little smile. Once, he whispered, "My gods..."

She wanted to ask him what he was thinking. She wanted him to tell her everything in his mind. She craved hearing that he found her attractive and what exactly he liked best about her, but it all felt too much like she was bleeding insecurity. She just kissed him back and tried to shut off her mind. It became easier to do as his breathing grew more labored, and he started to kiss her neck.

She ran her hands under his still unbuttoned shirt and felt his silken skin. He chuffed out a breath into her ear, and his hand slipped away from her jaw and made its way down her neck and past her shoulder.

She cried out softly as his long fingers enveloped her breast.

"Hermione," he breathed into her ear. "I want you so much..."

"You have me," she replied, digging her hands into his shoulders.

He kissed his way back to her mouth and sucked on her lower lip. She mewled in response and attacked him with her own desperate kisses.

They had all night; there was no need to hurry or leap into a frenzied grappling like before. Nevertheless, it was only a handful of minutes before their desire began to burn too hot, and they started pulling at each other's garments. He grew impatient with the buttons on her shirt and simply pushed it up out of his way so he could kiss her breasts. She dragged his shirt off his shoulders and stroked her hands across the planes of his body. Hot breath exploded across her chest and neck when she reached down the front of his loose pajama pants and took him in hand. Her hands caressed the length and breadth of him with gentle explorations as he pushed himself against her fingers.

He surged up, shoved his pajama bottoms down, and gave her a wild, needy kiss before settling himself between her legs. She listened to his breathing shift and hitch and race as he gently pushed his way in.

Her belly seemed to tumble into an endless series of flutters and rolls as she came to the full realization of what she was doing and with whom. It almost seemed too surreal, too bizarre, but it really wasn't. The simple fact was, he had been just as lonely as she was, and now they weren't. Even if it was only for a little while, it made her feel at peace.

The white noise in her head cleared, along with the final echoes of the monster's screams, as he eased himself inside with whispered curses.

She could feel him pulsing with excitement inside her, yet he took his time. When he was fully seated, he stopped, taking the time to kiss her and stroke his hand down her side, as if he were gently deflowering a virgin.

Hermione swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. She wished he were. Her first time with Ron had been all mad passion and grief and dashing to a quick and uncomfortable end. This was something far different.

She wrapped her arms around his chest and held him tight as she kissed him with a confused explosion of emotions. She wanted to explain how right it all felt, how happy she was, but there were no words, so she cried instead.

He started moving his hips, gently rocking into her as he kissed her cheek, her temple, her ears, kissing away her tears.

"So beautiful," he whispered.

"Oh, god," she sighed back. "So are you. It's so unfair."

"Shhh... Don't think of that now."

Gentle gave way to frantic as their bodies took command, and their minds were blank to anything but fulfillment. He increased his pace, as she urged him on with breathy cries.

He straightened his arms and lifted up, sweat dripping down his face and onto her neck. His mouth hung slack and his eyes were scrunched nearly shut. The candlelight revealed the blackness staining his torso down to his navel, and spreading down his right arm to the elbow.

She bit her lip and spread her hands across his skin, wishing she could reach in and pull the darkness out.

He shuddered from her touch and opened his eyes, whispering, "Nox."

"I want to see you," she said when the room went dark.

"You can see me, the real me, in your mind," he replied, leaning down and kissing her again.

He rolled off her, dragging her with him and when she was on top, he lifted her hips. Following his lead, she grasped him and sank back down. She groaned, and her head dropped back on her neck.

"Yes," she cried softly. "Right there, just like that..."

She heard his breath rush out and felt his stomach muscles clench as he pushed into her exactly as she wanted. The world spun away, and all that was left was this man, this bed, and the sound of their frenzied breaths as her pleasure hurtled toward its peak. One of his hands held her hip in a crushing grip, and the other danced between her legs as she rode him to a mind-shattering climax.

She collapsed down onto his warm chest, and he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He twisted his head so he could kiss her as he worked his way to his own release. She moved her hips, keeping his pace and shuddered when she heard him start to come apart.

His voice was an erotic rasp in her ear. "Oh, gods... beautiful... and so... Ohhhhh!"

He pulled her hips down against him, arching them both up off the mattress, and his breath came out in a long, broken sigh.

He dropped back down onto the bed as he leaned up and kissed her frantically. "Let me love you, Hermione," he panted. "I know I'm dying and I'm damned, but I need to. I know it's foolish, but, please... love me anyway..."

"I do. I will," she replied, desperately wanting to mean it.

He stroked his hands down her back and peppered her face with tender kisses as she closed her eyes and tried not to cry.

He held her close and caressed her with his soft hands. When their breathing settled, he rolled them to the side and slowly began to make love to her again.

"Hermione! Are you all right?"

"Lavender, I need you to do me a huge favor, and I don't have much time to explain."

"What's going on?"

"Did you hear about what happened at work yesterday after you left?"

"Of course! It was all over the morning papers. I was just heading over there to help. I sent you an owl to see if you were all right..."

"I'm fine. It's just...I had to take Severus away and hide him..."

"Snape? What does he have to do with this?"

"Lavender, it was Draco's father. Some kind of monster took over his body. The same thing could happen to Snape. If I'd let Kingsley talk to him, Severus would have... I just had to get him out of there. Look, I'm running out of time. I told him I was going to buy food and tell Harry I was all right, only I'm going somewhere else. I need you to let Harry know I'm all right, that I'll be fine, and to tell the hospital I won't be back to work for a few days. Can you do that?"

"Hermione, this doesn't sound like a good idea..."

"It probably isn't, but you're the only person I can think of that won't try to stop me."

Lavender shook her head. "All right. I'll get your messages through. But what do I say if they want to know where you are?"

"Tell them the truth. You don't know..." She turned and hurried down the front stairs. "Thanks, Lavender. I owe you one."

Hermione spun away before Lavender had finished saying good-bye.

:

The gates hung slack on their hinges, and the lawn looked overgrown and unkempt. The forlorn cry of distant peacocks added to the gloomy atmosphere.

Hermione waited patiently, having given her name to the house-elf that had appeared when she'd tapped on the broken gates. Before long, the house-elf returned and bowed her past them. She walked up the drive, passing an incongruously cheerful fountain, before gaining the front door. It opened as she approached, and Draco stood there, looking like a ghostly wreck of his former self.

His pale hair was stringy, his skin looked nearly bloodless, and his breath was flammable.

"Not the person I expected on my doorstep," he drawled with a sneer. "I thought it would be more Aurors, or the new Minister again, trying to find a new reason to arrest me."

"No, I imagine I'm not who you would have expected at all. May I come in anyway? I need to talk to you."

He eyed her suspiciously before stepping back. "You remember where the drawing room is, don't you?"

She stopped and gave him a sharp look. "Perhaps we should just talk here, then, since civility is beyond you in your present grief." She straightened up and said, "I am terribly sorry for your loss, Draco. To lose one parent is hard, to lose them both is devastating."

"And just what would you know about it?" he sneered.

"Plenty, actually. I Obliviated both of mine last year and sent them to Australia. Yes, I know, they are still alive, but the fact that I'll never hear them say I make them proud, or have the pleasure of their advice, or even see them smile when I walk in the door doesn't really make it feel much like a victory. They are dead to me."

Draco seemed to lose his bluster. His shoulders sagged, and he bowed his head. "Come on, then Granger. We can take tea in the dining room."

She nodded, accepting both his offer of tea and his unspoken offer of détente.