Outside The Rain

Women's Intuition - (Oneshot, 13+, 2,140 words.) Minerva tries getting Severus to ask out the new professor. Romantic fluff. A companion piece to Send Me an Angel but can be read as a stand-alone piece without context. (Tumblr link)

XOXO - (Oneshot, 18+ for smut, 3,165 words.) What do two horny Hogwarts professors do when their work schedules keep them apart? They sext via owl, of course. But Severus finds it increasingly difficult to focus on the task at hand... (Tumblr link)

Birthday Fantasy - (18+ for smut, 1,997 words.) Part of At Last, posted in celebration of Sev's birthday. Severus tries to keep his birthday a secret, but his girlfriend insists on celebrating. (Tumblr link)

Wicked Game - (18+ for smut, 3,391 words.) Part of At Last, posted in celebration of Valentine's Day. For the first time in his life, Severus Snape has a Valentine. The only problem is, she's too bloody busy to celebrate. Late that evening in her office, he makes sure they more than make up for it. (Tumblr link)

Keep Quiet - (18+ for smut, 1,272 words) Part of At Last, posted in celeberation of Alan Rickman's birthday. There’s a new teacher at Hogwarts… and he has the hots for Sev’s girl. Though he tries not to let possessiveness get the best of him, Severus can’t help reminding her who she belongs to. (Tumblr link)

For Educational Purposes Only - (G-rated fluff, Snape x Charity Burbage) It began as yet another of Dumbledore's tedious assignments. "Field research" with Professor Burbage on Muggle courtship. But somewhere between the wonders of Tube travel and Muggle cinema, the lines between academic research and something decidedly more personal begin to blur.

Professional Development - (18+ for smut, 4,581 words, Snape x Reader) Your sixth-month performance review as Potions Teaching Assistant at Hogwarts has just concluded, and you head down to the dungeons to properly thank your boss for his positive assessment. The cauldron is steaming. The sex is even steamier.

The Potions Professor's Perfect Assistant - A collection of smutty tales about Sev and his un-named teaching assistant. Some will be Snape x You (female reader,) some from Sev's POV. Each can be read as a stand-alone piece. No plot here, just smut!

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   “Here, this is perfect.”  He leads you into a small grassy clearing, where several fallen trees offer a convenient place to sit. The sound of a brook babbles prettily nearby.  You rest on a Scots pine trunk, and hope for a blood-free afternoon.

   “Right.”  Sev sits beside you and takes your hand.  “So the way I see it, once the potion is ready, we’ll need to test that it works.  And the only way to do that is for one of us to curse the other.  Schoolyard hexes are one thing, but to really make sure it works, we need something a bit stronger than a bat bogey hex.”  

   “So… say you curse me, and it rebounds.  Then I need to know the countercurse, right?”

   “Exactly,” he says.  “And… say we do find a way to make the potion stronger.  The curse might intensify to the point that a countercurse won’t work properly. But I may have a way around that.”

   “Might you, now?” You try joking, but your unsteady tone gives away your apprehension.  

   “Yeah.  But I know you’re not going to like it very much.”

   “Somehow I had a feeling… go on then.”

   “Well,” he starts.  “You remember that night when I had to draw blood from you?  Of course you do, you bloody remind me of it all the time.”  You give a single, nervous laughing breath.  “The curse I used to cut you, it’s one I created myself.”

   “You made your own curse?”

   “Yeah,” he says, as if it’s something everyone does in their spare time.  “Ages ago.  It’s called sectumpaulum, and it’s supposed to make a single, small cut into flesh.  And it does, if it’s done properly.  I was a little too overzealous that night.”

   “So I have to do this curse on you, when we test the potion?”

   “Either that, or I do it to you.  Maybe we take it in turns.”

   You mull this over.  “But if we do strengthen the potion, and it rebounds with more power, then what?”

   A languid half-smile spreads over his face.  “That’s exactly why I think we should use that particular spell. Because… I made another one.  One far more powerful.  Same idea, only… with the other curse, the cuts spread, until the person’s lacerated all over and bleeds to death.”  His eyes shine with the same sort of passion he has when experimenting in the lab.

   “Sev, that’s insane… surely you don’t want us using that to test.  We’ll be killed!”

   “No, not sectumsempra, the more powerful one.  The weaker one.  Because then, even if the curse rebounds stronger, we can use the countercurse for sectumsempra to stop it.”

   “Ohhh.”  It does make a lot of sense.  “But why the hell did you create that kind of spell, anyway?”

   The enthusiasm fades, his expression going more somber.  “What I told you about Lupin the other night.  After what happened that night in the Shack, I wanted a way to protect myself, in case he ever got loose during the full moon.  I didn’t know if he might try to seek me out sometime, when he was transformed… I guess that’s pretty unlikely, but at the time I was just really rattled by everything, and wanted a way to protect myself.  So I made these curses.  I’ve never done them on an actual person, except for that one night with you.”

   “So… you made a curse that can actually kill someone?”

   His face drops even further, and his shoulders droop in shame.  “I know.  But honestly, I only did it for protection.  I’d never actually use it unless it were life or death.”  He looks up, his inky eyes behind their long lashes meeting yours.  “Or something innocuous like this.  But also… I thought it might be good for you to know.  There’s been all those attacks lately and… Look, I don’t want you to worry, but I’m sure you can agree, it’s better to be armed than not.”

   This whole discussion has your head reeling.  Part of you is impressed that he’s made these spells from nothing, part of you horrified by it; and yet, you can certainly understand his reasoning.  “I guess that’s true.”

   “You know, I also made that Levicorpus spell everyone was doing back in fifth year.”

   “Really?  You made that?”

   “Yeah, only it somehow got out all over school.  I could never understand how it happened.  I hadn’t told anyone, not even Lily.   I finally realised how when I found out about Potter’s cloak.  One of them must have been around when I was practicing, and spread it around.”  He stops for a brief laugh.  “Flitwick spent ages trying to figure out the source.  He was in the library all hours, looking through old charms books.  It really bothered him that he’d never heard of it.  I heard him talking to Madame Pince about it.  Come to think of it, the fad’s died out.  I haven’t seen anyone doing it in ages.  Not since…  anyway, we should practice.  We can use that dead tree over there.”  

   “Sev, I don’t know if I wanna do this…”  What if it’s like his warming charms? You never seem to be able to do those as well as he does.  What if you end up hurting someone?

   “It’s alright.  You’re really clever, I know you can do it.”

   “But,” you puff.  “I mean, what if I hurt you? I’m not nearly as good as you.  The other night, when you were showing me your memory… I could feel what it’s like, your magic.  It’s so powerful.  Mine’s nothing like that, I still can’t do most spells half as good as you, and I-”

   “Shhh,” he shushes, soothing you before the anxiety escalates any further.  “Stop it.  You’re psyching yourself out.  They’re just spells.  Your magic’s just as good as mine.  Come on, watch me first.”  He stands, then takes you by both hands and helps you up, heading over to the large dead fir.  “Right.  So let’s do the weaker one first.  You want to just barely move your wrist.  The cut will take the shape of whatever movement you make, so don’t overdo it.  Like this.”  He points his wand at the tree, and with a minute downward flick, he casts:  “Sectumpaulum.”  

   Immediately a tiny cut appears in the tree, as if it were just nicked with a knife tip.  “See,” he says.  “No big deal. And if you do it with a bit more power…” He repeats the spell, with more focus this time, and a longer wand flick.  A deeper, more substantial gash appears in the wood.  “Why don’t you try?”

   Even though it’s just a dead tree, you can’t help feeling nervous.  But you don’t want to let Sev down.  Stop being such a baby you admonish yourself in your head.  You grip your wand and stare at the tree, holding your arm out.  “Good,” he says.  “Now just focus on a spot and go for it.”

   You inhale deeply, focus on a particularly smooth spot, and repeat the spell, flicking your wand ever so slightly.  “Sectumpaulum.”  A tickmark-shaped slash appears in the wood.  

   He steps closer to inspect your work.  “Not bad for a first try.  Good casting power.  Try a smoother wrist motion though, jagged cuts are more difficult to heal.”

********

   The sun has shifted slightly past its zenith by the time you feel you’ve perfected the spell.  To be honest, you draw out practicing as long as possible, because you’re still apprehensive about trying the more dangerous version.  But after a litany of successful attempts, Severus decides it’s time to move on.  “So just like the other one, the gashes will follow the shape of your wand movements.  Only, they’ll continue to spread.  Should you be fighting for your life, you want as much movement as possible.  Like this.”  He mimics without his wand, waving his hand around like Zorro’s sword.  “But even a single cut will continue to spread. I’ll show you.”  He faces the tree and casts the curse, making zigzags with his wand.  “Sectumsempra.”

   A series of gashes appear in the wood,  much longer and deeper than with the weaker spell.  “Because the tree’s dead, the cuts won’t spread.  But on a living thing, they will.”  You hesitate, thinking of all the ways this could go wrong.  “Go on,” Sev says.  “You did the other one well.  No reason you can’t do this one, too.”

   “Yeah,” you say morosely, and draw your wand.  “Okay.”  You square your shoulders and aim.  “Sectumsempra.”

   “Nice,” Sev smiles, watching the slashes your spell carves into the tree.  “Wow.  That’s excellent for a first try.  You’re a natural.”

   “Ooh, yay.  Just what I hoped for, a natural talent at deadly curses,” you deadpan.  

   Sev laughs softly and kisses you on the cheek.  “My kind of girl,” he says.  

********

  “Are we finished now?” you ask, having cast Sectumsempra and Sectumpaulum so many times on the dead tree, the wood has begun splintering off in shreds. 

   “Not quite,” Sev responds carefully.

   “I don’t like the sound of that…”

   “I know. It’s just that… remember how I was a little too much when I cut you, that night on the turret?”

   “What a dumb question. How could I forget my near-death experience?”

  He chuckles softly. “And you remind me so often, I reckon even an obliviation charm wouldn’t scrub it from my mind. Anyway, the problem was, I’d been practicing on a dead snuffler, not something alive. And I don’t want you to make the same mistake. We need to have you practice properly.”

   Your blood runs cold.  “And just what do you mean by that?”

   Sev points to the brook.  “We can try it on a fish. We’ll use my mum’s spell to catch one, then we can practice the curse and the counter curse.”

   “But… won’t that hurt the fish?”

   “Initially, yes, but we’ll fix it. It’ll be good as new. Then we’ll let it go.”  The thought makes your stomach churn.  “Look,” he says. “We fed all those carp to the vesper hawks that time.”

   “Yeah but that was the natural circle of life. Just part of the food chain.”

   Sev smirks. “Food chain. Muggle science strikes again.  We caught those pugfish and processed them, didn’t we?”

   “Yeah, but-“

   “And toad testing is standard for potions research. If you want to be a potioneer, you have to accept the not-so-nice bits.”  You stare at your shoes, unable to quell the queasiness in your stomach. Sev puts his arm around your waist. “Well only do it a few times, just to make sure you can do the countercurse. I’ll even obliviate the fish after, though I’m not sure they have much memory… deal?”

   He’s right, isn’t he? Animal testing is a part of research.  “Fine,” you sigh. “But I’m not going to like it.”

   “I didn’t expect you would,” he laughs. 

********

    The carp flops madly on the grass until Sev manages a stunning spell.  It stills, only its mouth moving, opening and closing in a futile attempt to breathe.  Your face scrunches with unease.  He would have to catch the prettiest one, wouldn’t he? Poor fish.

   “Right, I’ll do it first, so you can see how it should go.”  He points his wand at the fish and casts the curse:  “Sectumsempra.”  He keeps his wrist movement small, so only a few tiny slashes appear in the orange and cream flesh; however, the cuts spread, beads of dark red blood surfacing as the gashes lace their way over the scaly skin.  “Carp have very vascular gills, so they bleed quite rapidly,” he intones as if he’s a Muggle science teacher giving a lesson.  “Once the cuts reach the ventral aorta, we won’t have long.”

   “Then do the countercurse already!” you shriek, holding your balled-up fists to your mouth in agitation.

   “Yeah, okay,” Sev snaps back to reality and readies his wand.  “It should be melodic, almost like a song.”  He kneels down, tracing the lacerations with his wand as he speaks the incantation, smooth and melodious like a chanted prayer.  “Vulnera sanentur… vulnera sanentur… vulnera sanentur.” The blood recedes back into the fish’s body; it’s like watching one of Pops’ betamax tapes being re-wound.   The ravaged flesh begins knitting back together, finally healing fully, looking good as new.  “Like that,” Sev says with a little smile.  “Now you try.  The fish won’t last forever out of the water like this.”

   “O-okay,” you say, deciding to just do it and get it over with.  No sense tormenting the fish any longer than necessary.  “You want me to do both?”

   “Yeah.  Do sectumpaulum first though, just so we know you can do it with the right amount of force.  Then do sectumsempra, and the countercurse. C’mon.”  He beckons you to kneel down with him.  “Don’t worry.  I’ll take over if necessary.”

   You take a deep breath to try and steady your nerves, and cast sectumpaulum with a tiny flick of your wand.  Just as expected, a cut roughly one centimetre long appears near the fish’s tail.  “Good,” Sev says.  “That’s really good.  Now the other one.”

   Fuck. You really don’t fancy doing this, but you’ve come this far… “sectumsempra,” you say, giving your wand one small flick, and watching the fish gulp helplessly as a gash spreads over its pretty skin.  “Oh gods oh gods…!”

   “It’s alright.  You can do it.  Nice and slow.  Trace the laceration, and chant it like a song.”  His voice is steady and low, more encouraging than any of your actual professors have ever been.

   “Okay…” You grip your wand tighter and run it along the wounds as you murmur vulnera sanentur, three times like Sev showed you.

   It works; the fish’s flesh heals itself.  It lies still in the grass, gasping more slowly now, staring up at you with its glassy black eye.  “Fix it, please!” you plead. “Obliviate it, put it back in the water, or it’s gonna die!”

   Sev does this quickly, picking it up and placing it gently back into the brook.  It perks up, gulping madly, and swimming away with a splash of its speckled orange tail.  “I never want to do that again,” you proclaim as he conjures some soap suds and rinses his hands in the creek.  

   “You did really well,” he say, taking both your hands to help you up. “I don’t have any qualms about you trying it on me now.”

   Your eyes can’t possibly go any wider. “On you!? No! I can’t!”

   “Then how are we ever going to test the potion?” he says gently. “Just once, just so you know what it’s like on a person. You did the countercurse perfectly. If you keep your wand movement small, you’ll be able to heal me before the cuts spread too far.”

   “I… wait, have you ever done it on a person?”

   “No. Only the weaker one on you that time.”

   “Then… but… No, I can’t! It’s gonna hurt you!”

   “Only briefly,” he shrugs. “You did great with the fish. I have full confidence in you.”

   “Well that makes one of us,” you declare, crossing your arms and turning to stare into the woods behind you. 

   Sev chuckles softly under his breath, and wraps his arms around you from behind. “Is it the blood? You watched Carrie without a single flinch.”

   “But that was just a film. It’s different when it’s real life. And it’s not just the blood. It’s all of it. I can’t believe you made a spell like that! It’s so… dark. And I can’t stand the thought of hurting you like that.  It was bad enough on the fish.”

   “Look,” he sighs into your hair. “I’d been through something really awful, and I was scared it might happen again. I’m not… I’d never…”

   You turn to face him, hands resting at his waist. “I know. I didn’t mean...  I just… I don’t fancy the thought of hurting you. That’s all.”

   He leans down slightly, resting his forehead against yours.  “Just once. So you’re fully prepared when we test the potion, yeah?”

   You frown, but nod.  A quick peck on your lips, and he stands back, ready to be cursed. “Do it on my arm,” he says, holding out his left one and pushing up his jumper sleeve. “On the back, so it’s less likely to sever a vein.”  

   The stone already taking up residence in your stomach grows heavier. Just do it quick, like the fish, you try psyching yourself up. “Okay. Fuck. Okay.” You point your wand and breathe deeply through your nose to steady yourself.  Maybe if I say it softly it’ll hurt less. “Sectumsempra.” Your voice is nearly a whisper, and you give your wand the tiniest flick possible. Even so, the blood appears at once, flowing steadily from the small gash, as the cut begins to grow longer. Sev draws in a hissing breath through his teeth, but stands steady, his eyes flicking down to his bleeding arm. “Oh gods! Shit!” Tracing the path of the laceration with your wand, you murmur the countercurse just as you did with the fish.  Sev hisses again as the skin begins to heal.  Luckily it doesn’t take long; the tiny cut hasn’t spread very far yet. 

   “See?” he says, trying to speak normally, but breathing hard.  “I knew you could do it. Blimey, that actually really hurts.  No wonder you passed out that night.”

   “I am NOT doing that again,” you declare, taking his arm to peer closely at the disappearing wound. “But I have to admit, it’s brilliant how the blood goes back in. How the hell did you manage that?”

   He grins, his chest still heaving as he catches his breath. “There’s a lot you can do with blood and magic, particularly when it hasn’t yet disconnected from the body. I found some pretty wild stuff in the restricted section my third year, when Madame Pince was distracted. Hadassah Kagan wrote about it in the sixth century, but I had to transcribe the runes. Simple enough, with the right resources. Gods, if only I’d had access to your father’s books back then…”. He stops, probably because you’re staring at him like he’s Merlin himself. “What?” he asks. “It’s no-“

   Your sudden searing kiss cuts him off.  “Gods alive Sev, you really are a fucking genius.”

*******

   You manage to talk him into a few hours of relaxation before heading back to the lab, having brought a blanket, some sandwiches, and a few books you knew would pique his interest.  He’s lying on his side, idly paging through a reprint of an 18th century tome on the distillation of nocturnal plant nectars with his head in your lap.  Your hands are busy running through his hair, which is especially soft today - he’s improved on the recipe for his coconut conditioner, and has even started using it himself.  

   “So what other spells have you created, then?” you ask.  “Surely you didn’t go from levitation to mutilation just like that.”  You snap your fingers for effect. 

   “Heh.  No, not quite.  There was muffliato; you’ve seen me use that one.”

   “Mmm, yeah. Big Ben. That was… unforgettable.”  You smile to yourself, remembering how you could feel the toll of the gargantuan bell reverberating through your whole body, snug in Sev’s arms with your lips locked to his, your ears protected by his muffling spell.  

   “Gods, yeah.”  You can hear the smile on his lips even if you can’t fully see his face. “In third year, I made the langlock curse.  It makes someone’s tongue stick to the roof of their mouth, so they can’t speak.”

   “Oh?”  Your laugh peals out over the clearing.  “Why’d you make that?”

   “I wanted to shut Potter up for good, or for a good long time, anyway.  And it worked, at least until Madame Pomfrey got him unstuck.  He was running his mouth at lunch one day about how fucking good he reckons he is at Quidditch.  He was in the courtyard where they usually hang out, but I could hear him from the corridor nearby, so I found an open window and stuck my wand out.  No one saw me.  I didn’t feel bad about it, because he’d tripped me on the way to class that morning. Gods, that was a great day.”

   You giggle even more.  “You’ll have to show me sometime.”

   “Once I knew that one worked so, I got a bit more creative. I wanted something that would incapacitate, but also be embarrassing - and amusing; to me, anyway.  So I made a jinx that accelerates the growth of toenails by three hundred percent.  Tried it on Potter once, to hilarious effect.  He was in hospital for a whole week.”

   “Okay, that one’s just downright weird,” you laugh.  “How’d you go from petty podiatric pranks to deadly laceration?”

   “Like I said, it was borne from wanting to protect myself after Black nearly got me killed. So I just did a bit of research, a little experimentation, and that was that,” he shrugs.

   “That was that, huh?  Easy peasy?”

   “Yeah, actually.  I think I could make a spell for anything.  It really isn’t that hard.  I don’t know why everyone acts like it's some mysterious, impossible thing to do.”

   “Because for most people, it is,” you reply, your laughter both mirthful and incredulous.  “Merlins’s saggy tits, Sev.  I honestly think you’re a once-in-a-generation prodigy.  And you don’t even seem to realise it.”

   He shrugs again. “I prefer potions, really. Spells are almost too easy. Potions require more thought. You have to work for the right outcome. Spells, they just happen, really.”

   “I can assure you they do not just happen. Not for me. And not for the vast majority of people. Pops said he can’t even remember the last time a new spell was certified, that’s how rare it is. Gods Sev, you’re… I don’t even have words for how brilliant you are. Your mind, your magic… it’s like you’re from a whole different dimension.”

   “Maybe you should contact Rod Sterling,” he says, closing his book rotating round so he’s facing you. He curls up like a kitten, head still in your lap, and shuts his eyes. You brush his hair away from his face, lightly stroking his temple with your thumb. “Mmm. That’s nice,” he murmurs.

    “So do they know you’ve made all these spells? Your Slytherin associates?”

   “I shared a few of the less serious ones, years ago. But never the ones we did today. I’ve never told anyone about those. Only you.”

   “Do they ever ask you to create things for them? I mean… dark things?” 

   His shoulder hitches as he sighs. “Lucius used to ask me for things. I think he was feeling me out, seeing what I’m capable of. I made him a nasty stinging spell, one that’s really long-lasting. But I haven’t made spells on demand in years.  They finally stopped asking me last year.  And even if they did, I wouldn’t indulge them. Not any more. I know what sort of thing they’ll be doing with it, and it’s reprehensible. I don’t want to be part of it.”  He’s quiet for a moment, breathing slowly whilst you continue playing with his hair. “You’ve gone very quiet,” he finally says.

   “Just… thinking,” you reply. 

   “Don’t think too hard, or you’ll come to your senses,” he says, suddenly melancholy. 

   “What? What does that mean?”

   “Not an insult.  I meant… you’ll come to your senses about me.”

   “Why would you say that?”

   “Because it’s true. I still don’t understand what I did to deserve you as a friend, let alone a girlfriend.”

   “You didn’t have to do anything except be yourself,” you say. “That’s how it works. You meet someone, you like each other, you become friends.”

   “If only it were really that simple.”

   “It was for us, wasn’t it?” you say. “Despite your best efforts.”

   “I guess I’m just… distrustful, when nice things happen to me. I’m still waiting for the fallout.”

   “Sev, why do you always do this? Start crying into your tea when we’re talking like this?”  He just sighs and shakes his head slightly.  “Are you worried I’ll think badly of you, because you made those spells?”

   “Most people do.”

   “Look,” you say, continuing to stroke his hair.  “I know what it’s like. I’ve always had a fascination with dark things… Muggle murder stories when I was a kid, then learning about dark magic later. It’s just so interesting looking at what magic - or muggles even - can really do, for good or bad. Reading about people who really push the limits. But there’s a difference between being compelled to learn about something and actually doing it. I love reading about that stuff, but doing a curse on a fish made me feel ill.  And I know you’re the same way.  Maybe you made those spells, but you only ever used the non-lethal ones, and only when provoked.”

   “But that’s just it. I can’t deny that I actually wanted to use magic to feel powerful, or hurt people who hurt me.  Fuck, I still feel the urge to hurt them, especially after what happened to you. 

   “No one wants to feel powerless,” you say. “And of course you want revenge on people who hurt you. It’s only human. And brilliant though you may be, you are, in fact, still a human.”  You laugh softly. “Unless there’s something else you need to tell me?”

   “No,” he says, chortling slightly. “Though it was amusing for those three seconds you thought I might be a werewolf. Did he ever tell Dru, by the way?”

   “I don’t think so. Will Burrell’s asked her to the ball now, so I think he’s lost his last chance. Which is sad, but I kept telling him she wouldn’t wait around forever.”

   “Mmm. Anyway, human or not, I’ve just… never been able to act like one, I suppose. To be like everyone else. They make it look so easy. But I’ve always had to think ten steps ahead.  Which I suppose is exactly what I’m doing now. Looking for any possible way this might go wrong.”

   Hearing him talk like this breaks your heart. “You once told me that you felt lighter with me. Like you didn’t have to think.”

   “I still do,” he says earnestly. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And… gods, I just don’t want to lose you.”

   “Don’t you realise you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, too?” you ask. “I love you.  And I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

   He finally relents, allowing a half-smile to grace his face. “I’m sorry.  I really am a neurotic git.”

   “You really are. But I love you anyway. Now get up and kiss me, you neurotic git.”

  She was sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard with her knees drawn up when he entered the room half an hour later - deeply engrossed in his special vintage Playboy.  “At last,” she sighed.  “I thought you’d forgotten me.  I hope you don’t mind.  This was under the pillow.”  

   “I believe you were instructed to ruminate on your misdeeds?  Not take the liberty of perusing my personal property?”  

   “I thought very hard about my wrongs, sir. Really I did.”  Her tone was one hundred percent brat.  “But unlike you, I don’t have a mind that can occupy itself for long stretches. And I was told not to touch myself.   And this… well, it’s certainly stimulating.”  She stretched out on her stomach, kicking her legs about in the air whilst she opened the magazine to the centrefold.  The shiny black heels she was still wearing glinted in the light of the bedside lamp.  “Oh my, what’s this then?  “The Professor’s Perfect Assistant?”  How very interesting… and a vintage edition as well.  Quite rough around the edges, isn’t it?  Mmm, I can tell you’ve enjoyed this particular issue quite a bit”

   His silken baritone cut through her like a hot knife through butter. “A man has needs, Miss.”

   "You'd be surprised. He's actually quite the romantic, it seems. Stella is a lucky lady."

   Nigel flashed his cheeky grin at her. "I'd say he's the lucky one in that duo! Speak of the devil..."

   Stella had popped in to put a note in Beth's inbox. "Not talking about me, are you Nige?"

   "Only good things, Stella Belle! Miriam tells me you've got a romantic evening planned."

   "Mmm-hmm. Oh, we're going to Hogsmeade for the afternoon, did you want me to ask Stevie about that dress for you?" she asked Miriam.

   "Only if it's no trouble."

   "No trouble, I need to pick up something there anyway. Well, see you tonight, I think we're meeting at the apparition point at seven?"

   "Yes, seven. See you both tonight! I've not been dancing in ages, I hope I still remember how!"

   "If not, we'll just enchant your feet," Stella said with a wink. "Bye, Nige. Behave yourself."

   "No promises!"

   Stella took her leave. Once the clicking of her heels had faded away, Nigel grabbed the papers from his inbox and said goodbye to Miriam. "I've just remembered I need to send an urgent owl. Have a lovely evening!" He left, heading briskly for the owlery. Thanks for the intel, Stella Belle. Very useful info indeed...

********

   Once they were off castle grounds, Severus took her hand, and they had a nice walk into Hogsmeade. Springtime was beginning to make its return; the weather was still chilly, but the sun was bright and the sky clear. Lovely as the day was, however, Severus was on his guard, looking out for the creep who'd been following Stella last Thursday.

   Thankfully, the dodgy bloke seemed to have disappeared, and they had a leisurely stroll through the village, browsing through the shops. Stella was looking through a cabinet of jewellery in one corner of Alice's Antiques when Severus wandered to the other end of the shop to peruse a shelf of books.

   "Hello, lovely to see you," Alice said to Severus. "Those just came in; this one might be of interest." She pulled a leather-bound volume called Musickal Magick for Potiones, and handed it to him. He looked it over with interest.

   "Thank you. I'll take this one actually, if that's alright."

   "Of course! I'll just leave it at the counter for you. By the way..." she lowered her voice to a whisper. "Has she seen it yet?"

   "No, not yet. Soon," he replied quietly, with a slight smile. 

   "Ahh." Alice gave him a knowing smile and headed to the counter.

********

   Severus couldn't bring himself to accompany her into the lingerie shop. It just seemed... wrong. What if a student saw him? Gods, I'd never hear the end of it in lessons. Instead he spent some time in the bookstore across the lane, where he'd at least be nearby if that creepy bloke showed up again. After a while, he saw her through the bookshop window, heading out with a large bag. He very much looked forward to exploring the contents later...

   She was just stepping out of the shop when a man in long robes and a big hat appeared as if from nowhere and snapped a photo, the sudden movement startling her. He disappeared as quickly as he'd come, leaving Stella stunned on the shop steps, blinking from the bright camera flash.

   Severus swooped over, putting a protective arm around her and drawing her close. "Was that him?"

   "Yeah. God, he came and went out of nowhere. He must have apparated. Who the hell is he?"

   "I thought perhaps it might be... someone from my past. But I don't recognise him."

   "I'm actually getting scared now. Why does he keep taking pictures of me?"

   "Don't worry, darling. I won't leave your side. If he comes back he's going to regret it."

   "Should we go home?"

   "No, let's not allow some creep to spoil your day. I'll make sure nothing happens. Besides," he said, "I did promise to buy you something pretty."

   Stella still felt a bit unnerved, but Sev seemed sure it would be alright. I guess once you've dealt with the Dark Lord, some creep with a camera is child's play. "Well, if you insist... Stevie did say she had some new things in..."

********

   "So then I slapped the hell out of him, right there in the middle of the dance floor. It made the papers the next day. I still have a copy somewhere," Stella said over the table at Dillinger's. "I haven't watched any of his movies since."

   Orion and Miriam were laughing heartily at the story. "I had no idea she was such a spitfire, Severus!" Orion said, wiping a tear from his eye.

   "You don't know the half of it," Severus returned. "Ask her about last year's Yule Ball."

   The sommelier brought over more wine, sparing Stella from having to share that thrilling tale.

   "That's just gorgeous," Miriam said, pointing to Stella's necklace - the one Severus had given her, the one that had belonged to his mother.

   "Thank you. It was a very generous gift," she said, giving Severus an adoring gaze.

   "Marching earrings as well! He really does spoil you properly, doesn't he? You should take notes!" she said with a laugh, looking at Orion.

   "Is my scintillating company not enough?" he answered back merrily.

   "Oh, it's lovely, dear. But diamonds - or emeralds - are a girl's best friend..."

********

   The ladies room at Dillingers was nearly the size of Stella's chambers, including a powder room with a row of ornate vanities. Stella was sat at one touching up her makeup after the meal, thinking how nice it was to be out with friends.

   "Your dress is gorgeous," said the woman at the vanity next to her. "You had a beautiful one last time as well, I recall." Stella looked over to see the striking image of Narcissa Malfoy, delicately patting powder onto her face. "Is it a Stevie Drysdale?"

   "It is." She smiled politely. "Good eye."

   "I love her designs," Narcissa said. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't I see you in an ad for her boutique? In Witch Weekly?"

   Stella began to blush. "Oh, um... well, Stevie's a friend of mine, she talked me into it."

   "Lovely." She turned back to her mirror. Stella carried on refreshing her lipstick in her own mirror.

   "How did you and Severus meet?" Narcissa asked after a moment.

   Stella wasn't sure how she should answer.  Honestly, I suppose. "We met at Hogwarts."

   Narcissa's eyes widened a bit. "Hogwarts? You must be a professor, then?"

   "I teach the new music classes."

   "Ah. You... don't sound like you're from around here."

   "Oh, I'm not. I moved here from the States."

   Narcissa gave a hmm of acknowledgement. "It's good to see he's doing well. I suppose you must know... I owe him quite a debt of gratitude. It would be nice to thank him properly sometime."

   Stella wasn't sure what to say. She knew Severus had absolutely no desire to have contact with the Malfoys ever again. Narcissa continued. "Well, if he ever fancies a chat, do send an owl." She stood to leave. "Have a lovely evening, um... sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

   "Stella. You as well." Stella watched in the mirror as Narcissa left the room. God, that's twice now. Do they live here or something?

********

   Severus watched with smug pride as Stella returned to the table. She looked ravishing in her dark green gown, and he was quite pleased that she'd worn the jewellery. His mother never had, and it seemed pointless to keep it tucked away in a box, never to be seen. He recalled once as a young child, his mother had shown it to him, and said he could give it to a very special lady one day in the future. Well Mum, here she is, he thought. An unexpected pang of melancholy rose in his chest. He had a large gulp of wine and shook off the sentimentality before it became too much.

   "Fair warning," Stella said quietly once she sat down. "The Malfoys are here. Narcissa was in the powder room."

   Severus wasn't pleased, but he wasn't going to let them ruin the night. "Hmpf. It's as if they live here. Well, Miriam and Orion are already on the dance floor. Shall we?"

   "I thought you'd never ask."

   The band was playing an instrumental version of Etta James's At Last; they joined the other couples on the floor and danced slowly, Stella marvelling again at how light on his feet Severus could be. Beyond the dance floor, at a table near the front of the room, she spotted the Malfoys: Lucius with his bad wig, Narcissa, and a young man who was obviously their son. He was handsome, with the same platinum blonde hair as his father, slicked back like a character from The Great Gatsby. Beside him sat a pretty young woman with chestnut hair. Beautiful people, bad wig aside. Too bad they're evil, Stella thought. She turned her attention back to her own beautiful man, smiling up at him as they swayed to the music.

   They danced for several songs, enjoying the ambiance and each other's company, lost in their own little world, until Orion came over and proposed swapping partners for a song or two. "Don't worry, I'll bring him back in one piece!" Miriam said with a giggle.

   "I wonder if you might be able to help me?" Orion asked Stella as they danced to Body and Soul. "Miriam's birthday is next month, and I want to get her something nice. She likes jewellery like yours. Would you mind giving your opinion, helping me pick out something?"

   Stella beamed happily and leaned in closer to speak. "Of course! There's Bewitching Gems in Hogsmeade, or Alice always has nice things at the antique shop. We could even go tomorrow if you're free. How -"  A blinding flash of light stopped her in her tracks. It took a moment for her vision to return, "What the..."

   Severus was over in an instant, having swooped Miriam over briskly. "He's here, the bastard. Are you alright, love?"

   "I'm okay, just blind... what the...? How'd he know I was here?"

   "Is everything alright?" Orion asked, confused.

   "There's a dodgy man who's been following Stella around. He's just taken a photo." He looked around the room. "Is he still here?"

   "I don't see him," she said.

   "Please," Severus said to Orion. "You two keep dancing, don't let us spoil your night. I think we should speak to the host. We'll be back."

   They had a word with the host, who confirmed that no solo patrons had come in that evening, and none had reservations for later. He'd not recalled seeing anyone matching the description of the creep. He further confirmed that there was nothing stopping anyone apparating in and out of the building; they didn't typically require security of that nature.

   "Maybe we should go home, honey. This is scary."

   Severus sighed. He had no idea what was going on, and hated that she felt unsafe. "Alright, love. Let's just go tell them that we're leaving."

   As they were heading to the dance floor, passing by the Malfoy's table, Narcissa spoke. "Hello, Severus."

   He stopped. "Narcissa," he said flatly.

   "Evening, Sir." Draco was smiling slightly at him.

   "Hello, Draco."

   "We're celebrating Draco and Astoria's engagement," Narcissa said. The young lady held up a hand, showing off a massive diamond ring that glinted ostentatiously in the light. Sheesh, thought Stella. That thing oughta have a highball around it. 

   Severus remembered Miss Greengrass from potions class. No surprise she was marrying into the Malfoy family; a pretty, rich pureblood girl for a pretty, rich pureblood boy. I suppose I'll be teaching their pretty, rich pureblood children in about twelve years time. 

   "Congratulations," said Stella, mostly out of reflex.

   "Yes, congratulations," Severus intoned. "We were just leaving." Just as he took Stella's hand to leave, another blinding flash startled them. Severus looked around, wand drawn, but didn't spot the culprit. "Come, darling, let's make our apologies and get out of here." He took Stella's hand and led her back to the dance floor, where they explained their early departure to Orion and Miriam, before exiting the building.

   Severus looked around, wand at the ready. "I don't see him, love. Let's go." He apparated them back to the castle grounds, and they went to Stella's chambers.

   Stella shut the door behind her and stood before him with a lost look on her face, similar to how she'd looked the night of the Blissbane incident. It tugged at his heart. He hated seeing her upset. He pulled her into a close embrace, and she sighed deeply. "I just don't understand. Who the hell is he? Why is he following me? How does he know where I'll be?"

   He wished he had answers for her. "I don't know, love. But I think you'd better stay on the castle grounds for now, for the next few days at least. I'll ask around, see if I can find out anything. You're safe here. No one can go past the boundaries without permission. I promise, you're safe here."

   A few tears of frustration flowed down her cheeks. "I never thought a castle could feel like a prison."

********

Sunday, 1st April 2001

   "End of passion play, crumbling away, I'm your source of self-destruction...". Stella sang softly as she idly plucked at the ukulele. She'd come to her classroom to prep for lessons, but got distracted trying to play Master of Puppets on the ukulele. Something about Metallica done on the ukulele really tickled her.

   She was toying with the chorus when Nigel appeared. "Not out enjoying the sun, Stella Belle?"

   "Not today, too much to do."

   “Yes, I can see you're busy with something very important!" His laugh pealed off the high ceiling. "Enjoy yourself last night?"

   "Yeah," she said flatly.

   "You seem down, chiquita. What's wrong? Not a lovers quarrel, I hope?"

   "No. Just..." she sighed, too stressed to be coy. "Some weird guy has been following me around for days. He shows up everywhere, and he keeps taking pictures of me. I have no idea who he is, and it's really freaking me out."

   Nigel had an odd expression on his face. "Ohh... that sounds tough."

   "Yeah, it is. I don't feel safe leaving the castle now. It's like I'm on house arrest. He apparates in and out; we can never catch him fast enough to do anything about it. He even accosted me in the restaurant last night. We had to leave. We barely even got to dance."

   "Maybe he's just a big fan of your work in Witch Weekly!" Nigel laughed again. Stella didn't.

   "I'm glad you find this funny, because I sure as hell don't."

   "Sorry, I -" Nigel spotted Severus at the classroom door. "I was just leaving. Take care, yeah?" He dashed out like greased lightning.

   "Hi, honey," she said tiredly. "All sorted?" Severus had been setting up for tomorrow's lessons in the potions class, and they were going to visit Reina the phoenix after.

   "Mmm. Are you alright?"

   "Yeah. Just... tired, I guess." She put her arms around him, feeling more secure immediately.

   "After bird duty, why don't you have a long nap. I'll even let you put your cold feet on me."

   She smiled. "An offer I can't refuse."

********

   Surprised to find Nigel knocking at her door on a Sunday, Ruth beckoned him in and shut the door. "I've got some bad news. She's on to us."

   "No!"

   "I’m afraid so. She's spotted our paparazzo. Said he's been following her for days, popping up everywhere taking pictures. I thought you said he was a pro?"

   "He said he was!"

   "Well, he's not very stealthy. She's seen him multiple times. We'd better call it off."

   "Hmm. Well, he's sent over some photos today, it might be enough. I'm meeting with Irma next Saturday anyway, not sure we'd uncover much over the next five days. I'll owl him, tell him the jig is up."

   "I think you better. If Snape ever does catch him, he's done for. And that'll mean we're done for."

   "Not to worry, Nigey-boy. Leave it with me." She grinned maniacally as she reached for a quill and parchment.

********

   "D'aww, look at her, all aflutter! She knows her Mummy!" Reina chirped merrily from the boot nest as Stella approached, and hopped up eagerly to perch on her hand.

   "Hi pretty girl!" Stella cooed over the bird as if it were a human baby. Her first feathers had grown in nicely, in shades of deep purple. She looked like a proper bird now rather than a plucked chicken.

   "Reckon yeh can take her home today! She's been flyin' all o’er the house lately!"

   "Really?" Stella asked, delighted.

   "Yeah, she's more than ready! Yeh can get her a nice perch in Hogsmeade, til then I've made this, it'll do fer now." He sat a small perch on the table, handmade from some oak branches. "Take her to lessons with yeh, let her bond with yeh, they like a bit o' music, phoenixes do."

   "Thank you so much, I know I'll have more questions for you later. Well, let's go home, baby girl!" Reina chirped happily and flew onto Stella's shoulder.

   "Here's a bag o'seed, she'll fly off and find her own food too. Don't worry if she leaves, she'll always come back home."

   Severus took the bag and the perch. "Thank you again, Hagrid. I'd say she's more than thrilled."

   "It weren't no trouble a'tall. Look at yeh, a happy little family!"

   Stella giggled and they headed out. "Well, not exactly a half-bat, but she's cute."

   "She's got your looks, darling. Thank gods."

Severus remembered with crystal-clarity the day the tabloid newspaper his father read began a new sales tactic: Page Three Girls.  Each day a fresh new coquette with her tits out for the working class blokes of Britain to drool over.      Reading the paper as usual in the morning, when he was still sober enough to pose as a functional adult, his father suddenly spat out his PG Tips like a startled Scooby-Doo character, his eyes going wide as saucers.  “Gordon Bennett!  Will you look at that!”    Ten year-old Severus rounded the table and peered over his shoulder with great interest.  Right there in black and white, a gorgeous blonde woman sat naked in a field, posed in side-profile with one perfectly perky breast on display for all the world to see...

   She was just leaving the counter at the apothecary after collecting her Dead Sea sponge and having a chat with Ambrose when she noticed the dodgy man again, peering into the shop's massive front window. Very weird. No shrinking violet when it came to creepy men, she looked him squarely in the eye as she left the shop, letting him know that she realised he was watching, in hopes he'd get spooked and piss off.

   She popped into Alice's Antiques for a quick look around, and lo and behold, who should also pop up but the same weirdo. She swore she heard a camera flash as she left the shop. This was becoming less annoying and more creepy now... she hoofed it to the music shop, deciding that if he followed her there as well, she'd not leave alone.

   "Hi, Miguel!" She said brightly as she entered.

   "Hello Estella!" Miguel always called her the Spanish version of her name. She didn't mind. He and his partner, Mateo, had gotten to know her quite well, and she loved their effervescent charm. "Here for the guitar strings?"

   She glanced behind her... the weird guy was peeping into the shop, and this time he actually snapped a photo; the flash was blinding. "Yes, the strings. And also..." she leaned over the counter and spoke quietly. "...could I possibly borrow your owl, to send a quick note to the castle? This weird guy is following me. I don't want to go back alone."

   The owl in question flew down from its perch and landed near her on the counter, ready for business. "Oh, clever boy aren't you? Have you got a quill and parchment, Miguel?"

   "Si, of course. Will you be alright? Who's that guy?"

   "I don't know, but he's been following me everywhere, and it's really creeping me out. I'm just going to ask if anyone can see me home." She scribbled a note, then folded it and put it in the owl's beak. Miguel opened the back door to the shop, and the owl flew off towards the castle.

   "Ooh, that is dodgy! Just stay here then, until you hear back. While you're waiting, Estella, let me show you the new ukulele's we just got in. I remember you said you wanted one."

   She made herself comfy in a corner of the shop and had a play about with some ukuleles, hoping someone could come meet her soon.

********

   Expecting to find the usual memos and paperwork in his inbox, Minerva had instead oh-so-graciously left him another stack of old photos, with a note: Stella will want these, even if you don't! 

   Bloody Minerva. He rather preferred to leave the past in the past. She was right though - Stella would love them. I suppose I may as well see what humiliation she’s found this time, he thought, sitting down to look through the photos.

   He was trying to recall the names of the other students in a photo of his third-year potions class when Ruth came in, making a beeline for the table when she realised Severus was alone. Having considered his reaction earlier that week in the Greenhouses, she'd decided to scrap the idea of trying to bond over tragedy, and instead appeal to his sentimentality. She remembered Stella's sappy conversation with Minerva about the old photos, and about her feelings for Severus - and how Minerva said he felt about her. All that nonsense about the job being meant for her, to bring them together.  If he liked that sappy sentimental tripe, she was prepared to give him a double dose.

   "Exhuming the past again, Snape?" She plopped down in the chair next to him and peered over at the photos.

   Severus wondered if she had a tracking charm set on him. She always seemed to find him alone, anywhere in the castle. The only safe place seemed to be his office - and even then, she turned up at the worst times. He gave a noncommittal noise in response, hoping she'd take a hint for once in her wretched life.

   "You must have so many memories of this place. You've been here for so many years."

   "Mmm." He kept his gaze on the photos, wondering if a well-placed spell could perhaps make the ceiling above her collapse, spare him from further torment.

   "You know, when I answered the ad for the Arithmancy job, it really felt meant to be. Like it was exactly where I was supposed to go. I thought at first that it was just because the job was so suited to me... but now I realise, maybe there was more to it." She leaned closer to him, reaching out for a photo, making sure her arm brushed his. She slowly pulled her arm back, letting it rub conspicuously against his. "Perhaps it was putting me in place to meet someone special. Someone like -"

   A tawny owl glided into the room, landing nimbly on the table and hopping over to Severus to present the letter in its beak. He opened it, intrigued, immediately recognising Stella's bubbly script:

Hi honey, 

Sorry to bother you, but I'm at the music shop in Hogsmeade and a really weird guy is following me around. I would apparate back, but what if he knows where I live... is there anyone about who can meet me at the apparition point at the edge of the castle grounds? Or failing that, could Hagrid come walk me back? I'll stay in the shop for now. Send a note back with the owl. Thanks, honey. 

Love you, Stella 

   He immediately sprang from the table, grabbing a nearby quill and parchment, and penning a response:

Darling, 

Stay there. I'm on the way. 

Severus

   Ruth watched, flummoxed, as Severus sent the owl off with a note, then swept swiftly from the room without a word, leaving the photos scattered on the table.

********

   Stella looked up from reading Sev's note to find him entering the shop. Damn, that was fast. "Where is he?" he asked, sounding as if he were prepared to dole out a few unforgivable curses.

   "I haven't seen him in a bit. He followed me all over, then took a picture through that window. I think he's gone now, but it really creeped me out."

   Severus approached and looked her over, concern etched on his face. "Are you alright?"

   "I'm fine. Just a bit weirded out. You nearly beat the owl here, honey," she said, chuckling.

   "Did either of you recognise him?" He asked Miguel and Mateo.

   "No," Miguel said. "Never seen him. But we'll keep an eye out."

   "Please. Do let us know if anything comes of it." He glanced down at the collection of shopping bags at Stella's feet. "I see you've made good use of the wait," he intoned.

   "Miguel gave me a good deal on a ukulele, and an ocarina."

   "A what?"

   "A potato flute."

   "Of course," he said, none the wiser. "Shall we go?"

   "Sure. Thanks, guys. See you soon."

   "Thank you for looking after her," Severus said.

   "Anything for Estella!"

   Severus gathered up the bags and held his arm out for Stella. She linked hers in his, and he apparated them to the designated spot just outside the castle grounds.

   "Let's stop by the staff room on the way to your chambers," he said. "I've left something there."

   They entered to find Minerva and Ruth at the table, looking through the photos. "Oh, there you are!" Minerva said to Severus. "Ruth said you dashed off, is everything alright?"

   "Yes," he said. "Apologies, I had an urgent owl. I've come back to collect these," He indicated the photos on the table.

   "Did she get herself cursed again?" Ruth asked with a cackle. "You flew out of here like a bat out of hell!"

"She's just fine, thank you," Stella said cattily.

   Minerva guessed there was more to the story, but knew they probably didn't want to speak about it in front of Ruth. She'd ask about it later. "Been shopping, dear?" She said cheerfully to Stella. "Got some pretty new clothes from your friend's shop?"

   "Not this time. Just books, and Miguel at the music shop talked me into a ukulele. I've been wanting one."

   "Oh, lovely. Well, do have a look at those photos, Severus was quite young and adorable in them!"

   "Ooh, I will!"

   "Here love, you take these, I'll take the bags." He handed her the stack of photos. "Thank you for dredging up the past again, Minerva. Stella at least will enjoy them."

   "Plenty more where those came from, I'm sure. Albus really was sentimental about that sort of thing."

********

   They had just stepped into Stella's chambers when her mobile rang. "That's probably Mikey." She grabbed the phone from the coffee table and headed into the bedroom. "Moshi moshi..."

   Severus made himself comfortable on the sofa and looked through the bag of books she'd bought; a few of those tawdry romance novels she said were like "reading candy." She liked them after a long day, something she could read in the bath without having to put forward too much brainpower. Always with a busty heroine in a flowing dress being embraced by a shitless man with giant pecs and long hair on the cover... She'd also picked up a few more substantial reads: a copy of Gone With the Wind, one called Memoirs of a Geisha, and a few by that horror writer she liked, the one who wrote that Green Mile story. She'd mentioned that the film version was incredible, and she wanted to show him, but said it was too emotionally fraught and never seemed to be in the mood. (It wrecks me for days...) He remembered her saying that library books were her saving grace as a child. Her family couldn't afford to let her take music lessons or go to summer camp, but the library was always there, and she read voraciously over her summer holidays from school.

   He loved that about her; her love of books, her ability to read happily for hours, like himself. They often spent evenings reading separately together, each occupied with their own book, sometimes snuggled up close, other times down separate ends of the sofa, quietly enjoying the other's presence.

   She giggled upon her return from the bedroom, finding him snuggled under a blanket engrossed in The Highlander's Bride. "Good book?"

   "Not exactly. However, I suppose there's something to be said for having three rather erotic scenes within the first two chapters. Who the hell decided that "perky rosebuds" and "throbbing staffs" were sexy turns of phrase? And why are the women always fainting?"

   She laughed. "Well, there is much better written smut out there, but it doesn't often turn up in Clarence's shop."

   He put the book on the coffee table and beckoned her. "Come here, love." She sat across his lap, her legs to one side, and he wrapped the blanket around them. "I'm just so glad you're alright," he said, holding her close. "Who do you think was following you?"

   "No idea. Probably just some pervert. He was so blatant about it though. It was really creepy."

   "Someone in the village must know who he is. Gods, I don't want to let you out of my sight." He squeezed her, the protective, possessive feeling flaring up like fire inside him.

   "Unfortunately, it's just part of being a woman. Sometimes creepy men just follow you. It's one reason we like to travel in packs."

   "Hmpf. Well, I'll be with you next time, on Saturday. Let him try something. I'll hex him before he can blink."

   "I know you will." She lay her head on his shoulder and breathed him in. It was rather nice to feel so cared for, so protected.

   "How's Mikey?"

   "He's good. He was calling to tell me that he'd spoken to Nigel, actually."

   "Oh?"

   "Yeah. Nigel sent him an owl, apparently wanting to catch up, reconnect. They've not been in touch since school. So Mikey talked to him over the floo yesterday, at Chris's place. He said it was normal at first, just talking about old times. But then Nigel started asking him a lot of questions about me... about what happened to my family, how I coped afterward. Whether I'd dated anyone in New York, things like that. Mikey got a bad feeling and cut the chat short. It's weird, because Nigel was asking me the same things Monday night. I answered him honestly, so why's he now asking Mikey? It's like he's trying to find something incriminating on me."

   "Perhaps he thinks if he does find out anything, it would break us up."

   "Hmm. Well good luck with that. I have too many clothes to have room for skeletons in my closet."

   "Truer words were never spoken, darling." He kissed her lovingly in the top of the head. "Mmm. Your hair smells of coconut." He thought for a moment. "I know you asked me not to, but... I could go into his mind, just briefly, and find out what he's up to?"

   "No, honey. Absolutely not. Doing that has caused nothing but drama. I don't have any embarrassing secrets to hide anyway, so who cares what he's doing. I'm not letting an idiot like Nigel come between us."

   He sighed. "Fine. I shall bow to your will, Madam."

   "Damn straight. Ugh, you know what the worst part of today is? I didn't even get to finish my shopping."

   "You can make up for it on Saturday. I'll buy you something pretty to cheer you up."

   "I was going to go to the lingerie shop."

   "Oh..."

   "What? Not interested?" she teased.

   "Oh I'm interested. I've just... never been in there."

   "Well you can stand guard at the door while I go in, if you want. Their new spring collection is in. I have far too much black, I need something more colourful."

   "What's wrong with black?"

   "Oh, nothing. It's my favourite. But variety is the spice of life."

   "That must be Nigel's motto."

   She laughed heartily. "You mean you wouldn't do the same, if you were him?"

   He gave a huff somewhere between offence and disgust. "I could never be him, love. Or at least, I can't fathom it. How can having nothing but meaningless sex ever fulfil anyone? I'd honestly rather be alone for life, given the choice between the two."

   "Really?"

   "Really. I assumed I would be, for a long time. It wasn't fulfilling, but I'd prefer it to just chasing one one-night-stand after the other."

   "Honestly, me too."

   "It's a good thing I finally stopped listening to my stupid brain and kissed you, then. Or we might both have ended up alone forever.”  She put her arms around his neck and kissed him tenderly. "On second thought," he said, "I'd have ended up alone forever. You? Not a chance."

   "Oh honey, you say the sweetest things," she said, laughing. "Well, what should we do tonight? I may not have another evening free until spring break."

   "Hmm. Why don't we order dinner in, have a nice long bath, then retire to bed and watch a film. Or... not." He glanced at the romance book on the table. "Perhaps there may be some sheathing of throbbing staffs."

   Her face screwed up in laughter. "Okay, but fetch the smelling salts, lest I should faint in your rugged arms."

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