#hpfandom

   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."

 ********

   "Her feathers are coming in so fast! She's just gorgeous," Stella raved about Reina on the way back from Hagrid's. "You picked the most beautiful one."

   "Only the best for you, darling," he returned as they entered the staff room.

   "Oh, hello you two!" Minerva was at the long table, looking through a large assortment of photos. It's so good to see them together. I was beginning to think something may be a bit out of sorts last week… 

   "Hi, what are you doing?" Stella asked curiously.

   "I've found an old box of photos in my office. Albus was a bit of a packrat. I've been slowly cleaning things out, but the task seems never ending. Come have a look, some of them are from your student days, Severus."

   He wasn't sure how he felt about the prospect. "Must I?"

   "Oh don't be silly, Stella wants to have a look, surely. Don't you dear?"

   "Of course I do!" she replied, looking at Severus adoringly before eagerly joining Minerva at the table.

   "I suppose I have no choice, then," he sighed, taking a seat beside her.

   "This one's lovely, it must have been at the end of term feast. What are you here, about fifteen?" She passed the photo over; Stella regarded it with great interest, whilst Severus merely gave a reluctant glance.

    She gave a little gasp. "Look at you! What a cutie!" she said with a giggle. He really was; same face, same long hair, same tall height, with the lanky slenderness of youth, looking cute as a button in her opinion, albeit with the shy posture of a young man not fully sure of himself. She'd certainly have found him beyond dreamy had she been his schoolmate.

   "No need to humour me, love. Let's not tell lies in front of Minerva."

   "Lies? Are you kidding? I'd have had the biggest crush on you."

    He gave a hmpf of disbelief. Minerva's eyes sparkled merrily; it was rather adorable seeing him so disarmed. "I imagine I would have caught you two snogging in the corridors or passing notes in my lessons!"

   Severus wondered if his cheeks were as red as they felt. "Mmm-hmm," Stella said. "Believe me, you were sooooo my type, it's not even funny." She turned her head and gave him a coquettish look. "And you still are."

   "Having seen what you looked like at fifteen, there's no way in hell I'd have even had the nerve to speak to you."

   "Well maybe I'd have sent you one of those classic 'Do you like me, check yes or no' letters," she laughed. "And then Professor McGonagall would have given us both detention. And I'd have been thrilled about it."

   "Gods you are ridiculous," he said, though he couldn't help smiling slightly. "What further torture have you got for me then, Minnie?"

   "Well, this one I think you'll want to see. It's even older." She slid the photo over. A group of students dressed in clothing that looked to be from the late 1940s sat behind a sign reading "Hogwarts Gobstones Club." Stella immediately recognised the girl directly in the centre. She looked very much like her son, Severus.  "We were students together, you know. Only she was older than me, and in a different house. I didn't know her very well. It's a shame really. I wish I had some stories to tell you about her."

   Severus looked at the photo with much the same expression he'd had that night Stella had shown him the old photos she'd developed. She put her hand on his in a gentle show of support.

   "Why don't you keep it?" Minerva asked softly.

   His brow knit slightly as he tried to form an answer. "I can keep it with the others, if you want?" Stella offered.

   He nodded slightly. "Please. If you don't mind."

   "Oh, now this one's a riot!" Minerva said, hoping to lighten the mood. "Can you believe it?" The photo showed a very merry Dumbledore in the kitchen surrounded by the Hogwarts house-elves, dancing with his hands in the air as if they were in a Muggle nightclub. "What on earth was he up to?" Minerva laughed.

   Stella laughed as well, and Severus smirked slightly. "Well, as fascinating as this little trip down memory lane had been, I need to see Pomona for something." He stood up to leave. "You take care, love. Don't tire yourself out. You're still not over your illness. I'll be in my office later, when you're done."

   "Okay, I'll see you later."

   He longed to kiss her, but Minerva was right there, so he took his leave, grateful to cease the unexpected assault of memories.

   Minerva watched him leave, then turned to Stella. "I do hope I've not upset him. I just thought he probably doesn't have very many photos of his mother, or of his younger self."

   "I think it's just really hard for him. He's not exactly one to show his emotions, is he; not outwardly like me at least. I'll take the photos if you don't mind. I have a few others that I keep for him."

   "Oh really?"

   "Mmm-hmm. He gave me an old camera of his mother's. It had a half-used roll of film, and it ended up being a few pictures of him. Baby pictures, one with his mother, and one the first day he left for Hogwarts."

   "Oh, I'd love to see those! You must show me sometime. Perhaps when he's not around..." she said conspiratorially. "I remember when he was just a student. I don't believe I've had any student before or after as utterly brilliant as him. It was shocking how intelligent he was. Well, it still is, really."

   Stella smiled. "I know what you mean. I've never known anyone like him. It's absurd how intelligent he is."

   "He was certainly brilliant. Troubled, though. It was no fault of his own of course, he didn't exactly have the best circumstances in his early life. He always had trouble connecting with people. He's improved vastly, believe it or not." she chuckled. "But it was difficult for him to make friends. Which made joining you-know-who very attractive, I suppose. Finally there was a group who would accept him."

   Stella gave a low hum of understanding. "I can imagine."

   "I was quite surprised when you seemed to get on so well with him from the start. He's usually quite standoffish to newcomers. And not many appreciate his dry wit."

   Stella smiled. "He never seemed that way to me. He was so kind, so sweet. Even with the dry remarks. Honestly, it only made me like him more. I didn't even realise other people found him imposing until the rest of the staff arrived. It was always so easy to be around him. I see now that I'm one of the very few who feel that way," she laughed.

   "With the war ending, and him finally being truly free, I think he's slowly learning how to be a regular person in a peaceful world. I think he felt a bit lost for a while. Relieved that it was all over of course, but rather without purpose. The difference in him this year versus last... he really is like a new man. Well, I can see the difference, anyway, even if others can't."

   Stella looked idly through some of the photos whilst thinking about what Minerva was saying. "You know, when I saw the ad for the music teaching job, there was something about it that just drew me in. I hadn't planned on coming back to the magical world so soon, but something about it... It felt like it was meant just for me. But I had no idea..." she trailed off, chuckling slightly.

   "Maybe it was also meant just for him," Minerva said, a warm gleam in her eye. "I'm not even sure he realises it, but there have been other lady professors in the past who've fancied him a bit. But he's never shown any interest. None of them would have been right for him, anyway. Too loud, or too bubbly, or not quite his intellectual equal..."

   "What the hell is he doing with me, then? I'm nowhere near his intellectual equal," Stella laughed.

   "Don't sell yourself short, dear. He'd never have spent so much time with you if you weren't!" She smiled warmly at Stella. "I'd say you're exactly what he needed. Someone intelligent, and sweet, but not the loud, bubbly sort that would have annoyed him. For someone who teaches performance, you have a quiet sort of presence that I didn't expect. But I think that's exactly what he loves about you. And you're a bit less rigid, more free-spirited than him, but not in an ostentatious way. It's exactly what he needed. And after all he's been through, and so many years alone, I'm so happy for him. For both of you."

   Stella felt her eyes start to well up. "Gosh Minerva, you're going to make me cry."

   Minerva reached over and gave her a motherly pat on the hand. "I know he must annoy you at times. He's always been so rigid in the way he does things, although I suppose he had to be, to survive at all." She looked wistfully into the distance for a moment and sighed. "And I know he can be overly... zealous, about certain things. He feels a real need to protect you. And he can certainly let jealousy get the best of him, be a bit possessive... but please, be patient with him. He loves you so much, and you just don't know what a world of difference you've made in his life." She looked back at Stella, who couldn't stop a few tears running down her cheeks.

   "Honestly, he's done the same for me. I was so lost for so long, after what happened to my family... I didn't know if I'd ever be happy again. I felt so... untethered. Like I had no home. I mean, I had my place in New York, but that isn't really home home, you know? And my home isn't even there any more. But... now I realise home can be a person. And I feel like I have a home again."

   "Oh, now you've gone and done it!" Minerva pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and blotted her eyes. "Look at us, a few old photos and we completely lose our wits!" Their hearty laughter carried into the corridor, where Ruth had been listening since shortly after seeing Severus leave. Filing away every detail, she wondered what the Yank had meant about her family, about her home no longer being there... she kept listening as Stella and Minerva continued to look through the photos.

   "Here's another one of him, he looks about seventeen there," Minerva said.

   "I know he doesn't believe me when I say it, but he really was cute. I always fancied the awkward, smart type."

    "Here's one of the school choir just a few years ago. Filius used to have the students use toads as part of the performances." Minerva chuckled. "Once at the Halloween feast, they all hopped away mid-song. The Weasley twins had released a whole jar of flies, and the toads just couldn't resist."

   Stella laughed as well. What on earth... "Toads as instruments? And I thought my lessons were unorthodox!"

   "Well it was high time we modernised the music lessons anyway. The students have really blossomed this year."

   "I'm surprised you hired me, to be honest. I'm not even classically trained. I learned from my uncle and auntie, and from Muggle music videos on TV."

   "That didn't matter a bit to me. The other applicants all boasted about their training... you spoke about your students, and how much they meant to you. I could tell you actually have a passion for teaching, and for children. Anyone can learn a bit of Mozart. But a knack for connecting with children can't be taught. And Merlin knows we needed someone a bit less stuffy and traditional around here. Someone more nurturing."

   "Oh stop it, you're going to make me cry again!"

    Ruth took this moment to come into the room. "I'd better get going," Stella said. "My classroom needs tidying. Thank you for these." She indicated the photos Minerva had given her. "Let us know if you come across any more."

   "I will, dear."

   Stella did her business quickly at the inboxes, then left, blatantly ignoring Ruth, who was pawing through the photos at the table. God, look at her makeup today. She looks like she's auditioning for Whatever Happened to Baby Jane...

********

   Stella was tying up a few loose ends in her office when a piece of parchment, folded into the shape of a bird, flew in and landed gracefully on her desk, unfolding itself to reveal a note in precise cursive:

Darling,

I've had to go into Hogsmeade to collect an order from the apothecary; a volatile potion ingredient that can't wait. I'll come to your chambers when I've returned and sorted it. 

Love, 

Severus

   She chuckled to herself. A volatile ingredient? Such drama. The bird-shaped memo was a nice touch, though. She'd have to try and remember to ask what it was he'd collected. It was rather soothing to lay her head on his chest whilst he explained the ins and outs of various potions lore to her, even if it was often over her head. Just another part of that brilliant mind she so adored.

 ********

   Nigel hadn't expected to find himself day-drinking with Ruth when he'd ducked into the Three Broomsticks, hoping to avoid Severus, whom he'd just spotted leaving Alice's Antiques, stuffing something into his inner cloak pocket. Nevertheless, here they were two pints and two Fizzing Fireballs later, nicely tipsy and having a proper conversation for the first time since he'd joined the Hogwarts staff. Ruth certainly wasn't the sort of woman he'd normally be seen having drinks with, but she insisted on buying, and who was he to turn down a free buzz.

   "So how've you found it so far, working at the illustrious Hogwarts?" Ruth asked, her tiny eyes already reddening from the drinks. "Some of the staff are real nutters, eh?"

   Nigel laughed merrily. "You're right about that! No idea how an oaf like Hagrid became a professor. And Trelawny is a total basket case. She told me the other day that I was destined for misery and gloom..."

   Ruth beckoned to Madame Rosemerta, who sent another round of shots and two fresh pints over on a hovering tray. "Why Ruth, are you trying to get me drunk?" Nigel said, mockingly flirtatious.

   "What better way to ease the misery and gloom?" They clinked shot glasses and knocked back the Fireballs. "Yeah, the staff are a right bunch of weirdos. Beth used to be alright, until she started hanging out with that Rosenbaum. Now she thinks she's too good to speak to me. She's got some new boyfriend, too. That meddling music teacher hooked them up, you know."

   Nigel's ears perked up upon mention of Stella. "Good old Stella Belle, always a delight!" Ruth couldn't tell whether he was being sarcastic or not.

   "With your charm, I figured you'd have talked her into bed by now!" Ruth said crassly.

   Nigel gave a disheartened laugh. "I've been trying for fifteen years, Ruth. She won't budge. Especially now that she's tied up with that bloody dungeon-dwelling bat. Who decided a Death Eater was an appropriate person to teach children, anyway?!"

    Ruth's smile was positively villainous. He seemed to hate Snape as much as she hated Stella.  And he'd gone to school with her... he probably had a lot of information on her she could use to her advantage. This could be a match made in heaven... "But tell me how you really feel, won't you?" she said mischievously. "It's hard to believe someone her age and with her looks would go for him over you!"

   "Don't I know it! I'm convinced he's keeping her drugged on some potion, or using dark magic! Hey, did you know that bastard can read minds?"

   Ruth knew. She'd obsessively read every shred of information on Severus Snape she could get her hands on. But she feigned shock. "No!" she gasped. "How'd you know that?" She gestured for another round of shots.

   "Well... you might not believe me if I told you!" His speech was slurring slightly now from the alcohol.

   "Ohh??"

   Nigel looked around to ensure no one was near, then leaned in over the table. "Because he does it to me."

   "No!"

   "Yes. And it makes me crazy. I can barely sleep at night. And the only way I can get back at him is to shag his bird, break them up. But she just won't. I'm telling you, he's got her under some dark spell."

   "Personally, I can't stand the bitch. She prances around the castle like she's the bloody Queen, changing everything up, stomping all over school traditions. And she took my best friend. And she's got Snape wrapped around her little finger..."

   "Sounds like you want some revenge too," Nigel laughed. "You hate her, and I hate Snape. I never realised we had common ground! Gods, what I wouldn't do to get one over on that bastard... but his bird's too bloody uptight to let me show her a good time!"

   Ruth's villainous smile threatened to crack her face in half. "What if I told you there was a way to get back at both of them..."

   Nigel's bloodshot eyes widened at the prospect. "I'm all ears."

********

    The sound of shuffling feet and tittering giggles drew nearer as Stella rounded the corner on her way home. The last people she expected to see were Ruth and Nigel, completely sozzled, stumbling through the castle corridor with their arms slung around each other's shoulders like best mates.

   "Hellooooo, Stella Belle, the girl of the hour!" Nigel hailed her as she approached.

   "Shhhhh!!!" Ruth shushed him aggressively, making them both break into drunken giggles.

   Stella shook her head slowly as she passed. "I'm not even gonna ask."

   "Good!" Nigel shouted a little too aggressively.

   I think hell has officially frozen over, she thought, laughing inside as she made her way home.

********

   The living room was dim when he quietly opened her door, the flickering light from the film she'd been watching illuminating her sleeping form on the sofa. His heart softened at the sight. She was probably still tired from being ill, and as he expected, had worn herself out trying to be productive when she should have been resting. She had on her heart-printed pyjamas, which had grown on him, and was snuggled adorably under one of her handmade blankets, looking peaceful and pretty in the flickering light. Gods, I love her. Seeing her like this made that protective instinct flare within him, made him want to wrap his arms around her and keep her here in this room forever, where no harm could ever befall her. But alas...

    He shucked off his black robes and made himself comfy on the other end of the sofa, using his wand to cast a glow just bright enough to read by. Settling in with one of the books she'd brought him from New York, he tried to lose himself in the archaic world of Plutonious Braythwaite, and waited for his lady love to awaken.

********

   The end credits had just begun when her bare feet planted themselves squarely in his lap. She turned and stretched, sighing as she woke.

   "Hi, darling." His voice startled her a bit.

   "Hi, honey," she murmured sleepily. "Didn't know you were here."

   "Just whose lap did you think you were kicking, then?"

   "With any luck, Johnny Depp's," she said, hearing the end credits of the film emanating from the DVD player.

   "Griping grief of the heart doth wound, Madam," he said impudently, holding his hand to his heart in mock sorrow.

   She giggled gleefully. "Aren't you fancy. How long have you been here?"

   "Long enough to wonder what the bloody hell that film is about. He just lived in an abandoned castle on a hill forever? How did he survive? Why didn't that girl ever go visit him if she loved him so much? Even if they all thought he was dead, she could have sneaked away once in a while."

   She laughed even harder. "It's a fantasy story, don't ask too many questions."

   "Hmpf. You seem to have a lot of that bloke's films. Must be one of your celebrity crushes."

   "Oh, Johnny Depp is every woman's celebrity crush."

    "Lucky sod."

   She sat up and scooted close. "I'd go visit you, if you were living all alone in an abandoned castle and had scissors for hands." She snuggled up, laying her head on his shoulder.

    "But then I'd not be able to make you squirm so deliciously under my touch..."

   "True. We'd just have to be really creative."

   He chuckled under his breath. "It's nearly eight, we should have dinner. What do you fancy?"

    "Hmm..." she gave it serious thought. "Something stodgy. Lancashire hotpot. With peas. And some strawberry rhubarb crumble. No custard on mine."

   "Just when I think you've fully assimilated, you say no custard."

   "Once a Yank, always a Yank."

    "Indeed." He summoned Weeble and asked for dinner to be sent.

********

    They had dinner on the sofa, whilst Stella replayed the part of the film she'd slept through, crying a bit at the end even though she'd seen it umpteen times over.

   "Ughhh, it's so sad!" she lamented, turning off the film and brightening the room a bit. "Tell me about your volatile shopping, get my mind off of it. How's Ambrose? Did he say my Dead Sea sponge came in yet?"

   "He's fine, no it's not come yet, and it was Indonesian Glasswort powder I had to collect."

   "And what's so urgent about Indonesian Glasswort that it needs special care?"

   "It must be kept at a very precise temperature, else it explodes. Ambrose is more than capable of handling it, but he doesn't like to keep it in the shop any longer than necessary, just in case. I have a cold storage cupboard deep in the dungeons, in one of the unused rooms. Even if it does explode there - which it won't, I've made sure of it - the damage would be minimal."

   "How dramatic. What are you going to do with it?"

   "Well, my lovely girlfriend has spoiled me with riches beyond most potioneers' wildest dreams, so I'm now set up for brewing Mittomorbus Elixer in its original form."

    "Oh? What's that for?"

   "It's a very powerful cough suppressant. Poppy always laments that we don't keep it on hand. It's very difficult to find, and bloody expensive. If I'm able to make her some, she may very well do pirouettes through the hospital ward. Which would be a sight well worth the trouble of babysitting a volatile substance."

   "You're making this up... all that for a cough potion?" She laughed incredulously.

   "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not," he said, shrugging. "But you're not crying about Mr Depp all alone in that castle on a hill any more, are you?"

    He regarded her thoughtfully as she laughed herself into more tears. Gods, this was lovely. Being with her, just lounging around together, talking shite and laughing. He wanted this every day for the rest of his life.

   When she'd finally begun to breathe again, he suggested a hot bath. "No misbehaviour, Madam. You need to rest." She didn't listen, placing herself firmly astride him in the tub, kissing him and rubbing her wet body against his... he only mildly protested.  Gods, this bath - and mine - have probably seen more action in the past few weeks than it did the preceding twenty years...

   "As you couldn't seem to do as told in the bath, Madam, I insist you rest now," he said sternly once they'd returned to the bedroom. "Lie down and let me massage you. I've brought the lavender oil."

   "Ooh, yes Sir." She eagerly planted herself facedown on the bed.

   "See, you can follow instructions, though only when it suits you." He dimmed the lights and began slowly rubbing her sore muscles with the oil, starting at her neck and working his way down with hands as competent as any professional masseur.

    "How's that book?" she asked, pointing to the one he'd been reading earlier (or at least pretending to read whilst becoming engrossed in the film,) which he'd placed on the bedside table.

    "Fascinating, actually. He had some very innovative ideas about the merits of distilled versus rainwater for brewing."

    "Oh. How captivating."

   He knew she was taking the piss, but carried on. "Very. He also created the original Medellatrist Tincture. It's since been watered down so as to be nearly ineffective. I've always wanted to brew it in the original form. And now I can. However, it requires a very specific ingredient that can be difficult to procure."

   "And will it burst into flames if not stored in a golden crypt guarded by an army of hedgehogs?"

   "You cheeky little brat. Some potions really are extremely complex. Dare I remind you of the Nyctobane?"

   "Mmm. Please do. That was a very lovely evening."

   "Best night of my life," he said seriously, bending down to kiss her shoulder. "Hmm, you taste of lavender. Anyway, Medellatrist Tincture requires dried aestivanox blossom. A very rare flower that blooms only once a year."

    "Of course it does. I'd expect nothing less from His Eminence Plutonius Braythwaite."

   "If you keep this up, I'm going to put you in detention, Miss. You really are a terrible student."

   She smiled blithely, enjoying both the rub-down and the banter. "Sorry, Sir. Please go on. I'll be good."

   "Very well, Miss. Aestivanox blooms only once a year. As luck would have it, this year's date happens to fall during our spring break. And I know a place where it blooms, deep in the Forbidden Forest."

   "Hmm. Just how deep are we talking, Sir?"

   He gave a slight chortle of exasperation. "I'm going to assume you are still referring to the aestivanox and not to more crass topics... It's quite deep. But I know how to get there."

   "Mmm, I'll say you do."

   He sighed deeply. "Do you want me to stop massaging you, and make you write 'I will not backchat the professor' a hundred times?"

    She giggled. "No, Sir."

   "That is your final warning, Miss. Now, as I was saying, it blooms once a year, and I know where to find it. It's quite lovely; it blooms late at night, and it glows. It's worth seeing, if you would care to accompany me?"

  Stella realised he was now being serious. "Is it... safe? Deep in the forest, late at night?"

  "With me, it would be safe darling, I assure you."

  "Let me guess; you happened upon it in your student days?"

   "Yes."

   "They really did just let the students run feral back then, didn't they?"

   "Well, not exactly. I learned some very powerful non-detection charms in my final few years. I was able to go places others couldn't, and the professors were none the wiser."

   She hummed in amusement. "No surprise there, you little genius. I really would have been completely lovesick over you."

   "I still find that hard to believe. But seriously, I'll make sure you're safe, love. Please, come with me. It really is worth seeing. Not many get the chance.”

   "Fine. But only because you're so cute. Now, tell me more about Plutonius, what other weird science did he create?"

   Severus smiled, glad she'd agreed. "Well," he said, leaning down to use his elbows to massage her back in long, slow strokes, "he was the first to discover the effects of firewhisky on flammable potions. Most would assume that the addition of alcohol would increase the flammability, when in fact the sublimation of the stibnite distills the essence down to a state of stability, rendering the potion less combustible."

   "Fascinating," she said quietly.

   "Indeed." He moved downward to massage her legs. "Interestingly, he also did some of the earliest work on the effects of nightshade alkaloids on the mind. The dose-response is highly contingent on the respiratory rate of the subject. It's also dependant with the amount of albumin in the blood, but that wasn't worked out until much later."

   "Mmm," came her reply, barely audible.

   "Furthermore, he's credited with the penultimate research on western zodiac signs as stirring patterns. He discovered that using one's own sign as the pattern renders the potion with double potency, particularly when one's star sign is in retrograde. I once accidentally made a draught of peace so potent it filled my office with blue mist for days. I'd neglected to consider that I was a Capricorn.  I was, however, in a very calm state of mind for quite some time."  He chuckled softly.

   She made no response. Severus looked down to find she'd fallen asleep. Who needs sleep draught when you have Plutonius Braythwaite. He covered her carefully with the duvet, then quietly slipped into bed beside her.

   Gods, what a long week it had been. He wondered if they'd be on speaking terms yet, had she not fallen ill. What if she'd not forgiven him, had decided it was too much, that he was too much? It didn't bear thinking about.

   Tonight had been nothing special, and yet it had been everything. Everything he'd ever wanted, but not ever dared to hope for. A simple evening in with the one he loved. Having dinner, talking of nothing important, sharing a bath... If ever he’d been certain about anything, it was this. That he wanted this, with her, for the rest of his life. 

   Over the moon to have things back to normal, he closed his eyes and drifted off, the scent of lavender drifting through his dreams.

********

   And so the week passed with harrowing languidness, like cold sap dripping from a tree. He happened upon her leaving the library Friday morning, looking a bit pale, a bit hollow around the eyes. He longed to speak to her, ask if she were alright, but she gave him a shy smile and hurried on her way.

********

   Stella kept glancing at the clock during her last lesson of the week, willing time to go faster. She finally had to admit it to herself: she didn't feel well. If she were honest, she'd been coming down with something for a few days. She'd been tired, achey, and generally run-down, but as usual had been too stubborn to slow down. It was catching up with her rapidly. Her whole body ached, her head hurt, and she felt both freezing and hot at the same time. Midway through her lesson, the fog began closing in... the world before her felt as if it were miles away.

   She halted the students, who were in the midst of a song, and told them they were dismissed early, as a treat for working so hard.  It seemed ages before the kids packed up and left. She was fading fast, and knew she wouldn't make it home, so she stumbled into her office, just barely making it to collapse in a heap on the sofa. I'll just stay here for a while, just need a nap...

********

   Severus, whose lessons had already finished for the day, happened upon a group of the music students in the corridor. "Shouldn't you all be in class?" he asked in his usual strict tone.

   "Professor Rosenbaum let us out early, Sir," said one of the girls.

   He gave the group a look of disbelief. "Is that so?"

   "It's true, Sir," another girl piped up. "She said it was for doing such a good job, but she didn't look well. I think she's ill."

   "Very well. Make your way back to your houses," he intoned, before sweeping off toward the music classroom.

   He had second thoughts on the way. She'd said she needed space, and he'd fully intended to let her make the first move. But... What if something were seriously wrong?

********

   She roused slightly from her fevered state, feeling a cool hand lain against her hot forehead. "You're burning up, darling," said a dulcet, velvet baritone. Severus. Swimming through jelly towards cogency, she realised she was curled up in a ball on her office sofa, freezing as if she were bathing in ice.

   "I'm so cold..." she whimpered, her voice whispery and weak.

   "Poor love." She felt his warm cloak wrapping around her, his lips pressing gently to her forehead, his fingers carefully smoothing her hair off of her clammy face. "What else is wrong, darling?"

   Her thoughts were murky, but she did her best. "It hurts."

   "What hurts?" he asked softly.

   "Everything. My bones. My joints."

   "Mmm," he said soothingly. "Don't worry, I've got you. Here, hold on to me." He placed her arms around his neck and lifted her, carrying her to the nearest apparition alcove, not giving a damn whether anyone might see.

   She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she found herself put down gently onto his bed. "Hold onto me, love. Let's get you into bed." She leaned forward onto him whilst he undid her dress, removing her arms one by one and slipping it over her head. He reached into her silk slip and undid her bra, helping her to remove it as well. He took off her stockings, then laid her carefully back onto the bed, covering her with his heavy duvet.

   He left the room, returning with a number of potions vials. "Here, take these for me." He administered them with a practiced hand that rivalled any medi-witch, kissing her tenderly on the temple after each one.

   "Good girl, now stay here, I'll be right back." He returned shortly in his silk pyjamas, getting into bed beside her and taking her into his arms.

   She whimpered pitifully. A bad fever always made her feel so untethered, so needy and helpless, and her whole body was aching. "Shhhhh... I know, love..." he soothed her in a low whisper as he stroked her head. "It's alright. Just let yourself drift off to sleep. You'll feel so much better when you wake up. I'll keep you warm. I'll take care of you... I'll always take care of you. Because I love you, my darling."

   Her fevered mind worked out that he must have given her a sleep draught, because her eyelids grew heavy... Within minutes, she was asleep in his arms, feeling like she was home at last.

   Severus held her close, as he'd been longing to do all week. Had he overstepped? He couldn't have left her there, alone and freezing in her office. Perhaps he should have taken her to Madame Pomfrey. But she'd have hated that. And Poppy couldn't exactly have comforted her like this... he hoped she wouldn't be cross with him when she woke. Even if they were going through a bit of a rough patch, he loved her. And he wanted... no, needed to take care of her.

   He kissed her gently on the forehead and listened to her breathe for a long time. He studied her beautiful face, stroking lightly with gentle caresses. He had to be better for her. She deserved nothing less than adoration, complete trust, and a man strong enough not to let the ghosts of his past drive his behaviour.

   At long last, he closed his eyes and drifted off with his arms around her, hoping like hell that she would find space in her beautiful heart to forgive him.

********

   She woke in the morning, unsure at first where she was. As her eyes fluttered, her brain scrambled to play catch-up... she recalled a cool hand on her forehead, strong arms wrapping around her, and his honeyed voice soothing her into sleep. He took me home, he took care of me...

   She felt his arm around her, his hand slowly caressing her back as she woke. When she could finally open her eyes, his beautiful dark ones were looking back at her.

   "Hi," he said softly.

   "Hi," she managed to whisper back.

   "You had a bad fever, but I think it's gone now. Are you feeling better?"

   She groggily took stock. "Mmm," she said quietly, "better, but... still achey all over."

   "Poor love. Here, have some more of this." He reached over for a pain-relief potion and brought the small vial to her lips.

   She took it without question, fully trusting his advice when it came to potions. "Mmm, that's really nice. Like candy."

   He smiled, and moved closer to deepen his embrace. He was a bit wary, not sure how she might react, but she snuggled right up and embraced him back. "Gods, I've missed you," he whispered into her hair.

   "I missed you, too."

   They were quiet for a long time, just holding one another as the morning birdsong floated faintly through the windows, until he could bear it no longer, and asked the question that had plagued his battered heart all week. "We can talk later, when you're feeling better. But... please, are we... still us?"

   Without hesitation she nodded against his chest. "It's not quite that easy to get rid of me."

   He exhaled the breath he'd been holding since she left that night. Gods. What if she'd said no...

   "If you want to go home, I understand. I'm sorry... you were very ill, and I knew you'd not want to go to the hospital wing. I... just wanted to look after you. You're welcome to stay, but  if you... still want space..."

   Truthfully, space from him was the last thing she wanted at the moment. "No, I think I've had enough space. I'll stay... as long as it's not a bother to you."

   "Not at all, darling. I've missed you terribly. Gods, I never want to be apart from you again." He kissed her head tenderly. "Let me run you a hot bath. It will help with the pain. I'll go to your chambers and get something for you to wear."

********

   She was soaking in a hot bubbly bath, drinking the coffee he'd made for her, when he returned. "I hope these will suffice," he said, holding up her pyjamas with the little red hearts. "I thought you'd want something... comfortable."

   She laughed a bit. "I thought you hated those."

   "They seem to have grown on me."

   He sat on the edge of the tub and leaned down to kiss her properly for the first time since their argument. She sighed contentedly. "Care to join me?"

   "If you're sure...?"

   "Just get in here."

   He did, and she settled back against him, glad things seemed to be getting back to normal.  "You should take it easy today," he said, his voice echoing a bit in the tiled room. "My sofa is all yours. I'll look after you."

   He always looks after me, she thought fondly.  "Sure I won't be interrupting anything important? Ruth might want a long romantic walk by the lake."

   “Pfft.  I have marking to do, but I can do it from the sofa."

   "If you're sure." She closed her eyes and relaxed in his arms, letting the hot water soothe her aching body.

   "I'm sorry, darling. For everything. I hope you can forgive me."

   "I already have."

   He smiled softly, relieved, and kissed her wet hair. "I... I realise I was completely out of line."

   She was thoughtful for a moment before speaking softly. "My mom had some really awful relationships with men. A few of them were really controlling. I watched her struggle to deal with that for years, and I always promised myself I'd never let any man treat me like that. Never let myself be controlled. And... I won't."

   He sighed deeply, shame bubbling inside him like a simmering potion. "I don't want to control you, love.  I just..." He sighed again. "I failed to protect my mother. I failed to protect Lily... and so many others along the way. I want... I need to protect you. Perhaps I've been misguided. But if anything happened to you, I couldn't live without you. And if something happened that I could have prevented... I'd not be able to live with the guilt."

   Stella brought his hand up from the depths of the bath and kissed it, holding it lovingly to her cheek. "Honey, you can't blame yourself for the way things were with your parents. You were a child. What could you have possibly done about it? And you were barely more than a child when everything happened with Lily."

   "I know that, logically. But... Guilt is an insidious thing. Like a dementor that no patronus can expel."

   Stella felt her eyes welling up. "I know. Believe me, I know."

   They were quiet for a few minutes, then he spoke softly. "That thing... the thing you didn't want to say...."

   "Hmm?"

   "Maybe I need to hear it."

   She gave a hum of indecisiveness. "I don't want to hurt you."

   "My own idiotic behaviour has hurt you more than you could ever hurt me."

   "I'm not sure that's true. But... I think there is more to this than you wanting to be protective."

   "I... think you're right."

   "You always worry that I'm going to leave you. That I'm going to change my mind. And I think that's why the situation with Nigel has bothered you more than Andrew or Carlos ever did. Because we have a history, and we have to work so closely. And you going into his mind certainly hasn't helped. And honestly, there's nothing I can say or do that would make you stop worrying. What the hell am I supposed to do about it?"

   He didn't reply, but considered her words carefully. After a moment, she continued. "I really don't mean to hurt you by saying this. This is not me speaking ill of her... but the difference between then and now is that... she never loved you, honey. And I've never loved anyone more." 

   He knew of course that Lily hadn't ever loved him, had only seen him as a friend. She'd never truly understood him, not on the level that Stella did. How could she? She’d come from a life of love and security. She had no idea what it was like to live a life of always feeling less-than, of never quite fitting in.  Could never understand how a person might be susceptible to doing unwise things out of sheer desperation for any sort of agency over their life. 

   The very fact that Stella hadn't wanted to say this, had worried about it hurting him, showed that she really did love him. And she was right; that was the difference, wasn't it? Though he supposed if he were honest with himself, deep down there was still a part of him that found it unbelievable that someone actually loved him. Which made it all that much harder not to let his insecurities run wild.

   She continued. "It took me thirty years to find you. I'm not about to give you up, especially for someone like Nigel, who only wants one thing."

   Severus sighed at that. "I'm afraid he may be after two things..."

    "Oh?"

   "He wants you, of course. But only physically. And he wants revenge - on me - for embarrassing him that night..."

   "And... what's his plan for revenge? Surely he doesn't think he's any sort of match for you, magically or physically?"

   "Oh he's well aware. To be honest, he's quite terrified of me." He chuckled at the thought. "He thinks he can get revenge by breaking us up. By getting you, even if it's just a kiss."

   "Well, he's never getting that, so it's a moot point. Can you stay out of his mind now? He's been so paranoid lately."

   Severus smirked. "Perhaps I should. You know, I had been considering going into Ruth's, to find out what this plan is she has to embarrass you."

   Stella laughed. "Honey, no. Stay out of people's minds. It's not good for anyone involved. Besides, what could she possibly do or say that would embarrass me? I don't have any dark secrets. She's the embarrassing one. Traipsing about in dresses too big for her, looking like Tammy Faye Bakker, trying to Single White Female me..."

   "Um, what?"

   She giggled. "Nevermind. Anyway, please stay out of people's minds. It isn't worth the fallout."

   "Fine. But only because it would be cruel to argue with you when you're so ill, Madam."

********

   He'd been thoughtful enough to bring the book she was reading and her current crochet project. She spent the day wrapped in a warmth-charmed blanket on his sofa, reading or crocheting whilst he marked an enormous pile of students' work, enjoying his wry comments. Bloody hell, this one actually thinks moonstone comes from the moon. Ah, Mr Singh; perhaps if you spent less time trying to murder the whole class with your pranks and more time studying, you'd know that potion is spelled with a t-i, not an s-h. Weeble brought dinner, and Severus proposed an early night. After all, she was still a bit ill, and after the last week of lonely solitude, he wanted nothing more than to spend time holding her close.

   "Thank you for taking care of me. You're better than Madame Pomfrey any day. You should have been a healer."

   He gave her a half smile. "I considered it, briefly, when I first finished school."

   "I'm not sure your bedside manner is for everyone, though," she said, laughing softly.

   "You don't seem to mind." He combed his fingers into her hair and kissed her.

   "What if I get you sick?"

   "Then we'll be miserable together." His kisses deepened, and moved down to her neck. She tightened her embrace and sighed softly.  "I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't. You're ill."

   "I'm not that ill."

   "Are you still aching all over?"

   "Yes."

   "Then I shouldn't."

   "But you said you would take care of me..." she pouted.

   He regarded her longingly. "Gods, how am I supposed to say no when you give me that look? You're impossible. Come on love, you're ill. It can wait."

   "But it would make me feel so much better..."

   "Really?" he replied, one eyebrow cocked.

   "Mmm-hmm."

   He looked at her, torn between lust and rational thought. "Fine. But I must warn you, Madam, it's been" he did some quick mental maths. "...nearly nine days. This may be over quickly."

   Her eyes widened. "Really?"

   "Mmm. I've been... too upset to think about it this past week."

   Her expression softened. "Well... me too."

   "Then I suppose we should make up for lost time. Even if you are ill. I'll be gentle... wait." He reached for the bedside drawer. "You need this, " he said, handing her one of the bottles of contraceptive potion. "I don't want our half-bat child conceived out of wedlock."

   "What an odd way to propose." She drank the potion and handed him back the empty bottle. "Surely you can do better than that."

   "I'm proposing that you take these off," he said, unbuttoning her pyjama top, "and then take the medicine you so sorely need..." he kissed down her torso, making her shiver, then removed his own silk top. "You'll have to lose these too, I'm afraid," he said, magicking her bottoms off with a soft whoosh, making her giggle.

   "Hey, that tickles, you know."

   "Does it? Good. I love your little giggles." He wrestled his way out his own bottoms and lay next to her under the duvet, pressing the full length of his body against her. "You seem a bit cold... let me warm you up." Pulling the duvet up around their shoulders, he leant over to kiss her, his hand wandering down, eliciting a breathy oooohh from her as soon as his finger made contact...

   She moaned gently into his kisses as his fingers worked their magic, nine days of abstinence causing the flames of pleasure to build with astonishing speed, like a match to petrol. The lingering ache from her illness somehow made every touch, every bit of friction even more intense. Every last inch of her literally aching for release, she quite nearly combusted under his fingers.

   As ever, he was paying close attention to every sigh, every breath, every minuscule movement of her body, reading her like one of his complex manuals. He needed her just on the precipice; nine days of restraint had him ready to spurt madly within seconds. Just when she was nearly at the edge, he moved atop her under the heavy duvet, his cock standing ramrod upright, hard as granite, leaving a substantial smear of pre-cum glistening on her thigh. Gods, if he didn't have her now, he was going to burst into flames.

   Nudging her thighs further apart, he settled himself at her drenched entrance. "Gods I love you, darling. Let me show you how much..." he entered her gently, as promised. Oh gods... feeling her around his cock after so long stole all the air from his lungs... he thrust slowly, fighting to remain gentle as every drop of blood in his veins screamed for him to rut her like a wild animal.

   "Gods Stella, I can't... I... fuck..."

   Her breath was already hitching. "Oh god... yes baby... oh god yes... yes..." Her tense, aching body burned warmer and warmer as she crested the fiery wave... Severus's head was buried against her neck, his hot breath fanning the flames, trying desperately to hold on just that little bit longer...

   She came with a shuddering cry of desperate release, her hands gripping his shoulder hard enough to leave marks, moaning his name as her aching body at last got the release it so badly craved.

He followed immediately with an orgasm like fiendfyre, spurting into her deep warmth endlessly, groaning incoherently into her neck. His hot seed spilled out around his cock, far too copious to be contained within her.

   "Fuck... gods... mmmmph..." remembering she was ill, he eased himself down, trying to support most of his own weight. His cock softened and pulled out of her, causing a gush of warm cum, leaving his cock coated and sticky, and a puddle between her thighs like never before.

   "Fuck... that was... gods. Feel better now?" he said between breaths.

   "Mmmm..." she sighed, turning her head slightly to kiss his temple.

   "Gods, darling. I've left a huge mess..."

   "It's okay, baby. It made me feel so much better."

   "Mmm, my dirty little minx." He cleaned things up with his usual spell and collapsed onto his back. She scooched over to snuggle.

   "You definitely don't get treatment like that in the hospital wing."

   He murmured a soft laugh. "I suppose not." His hand toyed idly with her hair for a moment. "I never asked... how was the concert?"

   "Amazing. Everything I wanted it to be. I think I cried the whole time."

   He smiled, glad it had been as special as she'd hoped. "And, dare I ask... how was the company?"

   She huffed, annoyed just thinking about it. "He got on my very last nerve. Honestly, I'd have rather just been alone. It... made me realise how lucky I am to have you. Even though I was still angry with you." She chuckled softly. "I really wanted to come to you that night, when I got back. And every day after. Ugh, why am I so fucking stubborn?"

   "I ask myself that every day, love," he said, a loving smile on his face. "I wanted to come to you, too. Desperately. It was all I could think about. But I didn't think you'd be happy if I did."

   "Maybe I wouldn't have been. But maybe I would have. God, I don't even know." She nuzzled against his chest, giggling at her own stubbornness. "Well, we're here now. I love you."

   "I love you too, darling. Perhaps in the morning, I can show you how much... for longer than two minutes."

********

   Though she was wearing casual Muggle clothes (jeans, one of her vintage concert shirts, and Converse trainers,) she still looked gorgeous, hair and makeup done with perfection as always.  She’d  accessorised with a large number of silver bangle bracelets on one arm, and some dramatic dangling earrings.  He mused that had they been speaking, he'd probably have watched her dress and get ready.  He'd always enjoyed that, lounging nearby as she got dressed.  She'd play some music, they'd chat about this and that, she'd sing softly as she did her makeup; it was a sort of intimacy he'd never had with anyone before.  He wondered if he would ever have it again.

   He watched until they disappeared, off for their evening in Muggle London.  Nigel was probably already turning on the charm and the fake kindness.  Perhaps she wouldn't have fallen for it before, but now?  After last night?  The thought terrified him.  

   He headed out of the castle himself.  Too out of sorts to focus on anything work-related, he decided to take a very long walk about the lake.  Perhaps it would soothe his tattered soul just a bit. Or perhaps the giant squid would drag him deep into the murky depths and put an end to his suffering. Oh stuff it, you dramatic bastard. Nobody's fault but your own, is it?

********

   Stella removed the small vial of motion-sickness potion from her handbag and downed the contents.  She felt a pang of despair, thinking of Sev.  She missed him already.  It had been a lonely night without him, and she reflected that she'd gotten ready for the evening alone - something that didn't happen often since they'd started dating.  

   "Missing him already?  We've only just left!" Nigel said cheerily.  

   "Yeah, well, you know... come on, it's time."

   A few moments later they found themselves in central London.  "The tube's this way.  It's not far to the stadium, but we have a lot of time to kill."  

  "Well," Nigel said, "Suppose we'll just have to find a cosy spot for a few drinks, then!"

******** 

   Seated in a cosy nook in a pub older than Stella’s home country, Nigel sauntered back from the bar with two pints of cider.  "Cheers to Tom Petty!"

   "I didn't even realise you liked him," Stella said, sipping her pint.

   "It was you who got me into him in the first place!  You played his albums non-stop at school."

   Stella smiled. "Yeah, I guess I did.  His music's really special to me.  I can't believe I'm seeing him live.  Fair warning, I'm gonna cry."

   Nigel turned on his best performance of a caring friend.  "Oh, I understand.  It was special to your family too, right?"

   "Yeah." She looked off wistfully into the distance for a moment. 

   "I heard about what happened," he said softly.  "From an old school friend.  If you want to talk about it, I'm here for you."

   Stella remembered what Severus had told her last night.   Guess he was right. Nigel rarely talked about anything beyond surface-level conversation with her.  It was completely out of character.  Or rather, he's playing a character, she thought.  She certainly wasn't going to fall for it.

    "Oh, let's not get depressed.  What's up with you these days outside of work?  Seeing any cute witches lately?"

   "I'm looking at one right now," he said with a wink and a grin.

   Stella rolled her eyes.  It was going to be a very long day.

********

   Waiting at the barrier just before the stage, Stella took a moment to breathe deeply and think about her family, who had loved Tom Petty's music so much.  His songs brought back memories of summer barbecues, riding in her uncle's big pickup truck, and family hangouts.  God, if she wasn't careful she was going to cry already.  She hoped they were out there in some way, enjoying this night with her.  

   The Wembley Stadium lights went down, and a cheer arose from the crowd as the music started.  Listen to Her Heart was the opening song; an older one that she loved. She tried fighting back tears to no avail as Tom took the stage and began singing.  You think you're gonna take her away... You keep thinking that her mind is gonna change, but I know everything is okay. She's gonna listen to her heart, it's gonna tell her what to do... she might need a lot of lovin' but she don't need you… She adored this moment; the opening moment at a big concert, when you just can't believe that it's actually the artist on stage. And the song's pretty fitting for me right now, too.

   Nigel watched her as the show went on.  Stella was lost in her own world, singing and crying like she was at one of those weird American church services.  Hmm... perhaps he could bring her back round... 

   She was lost in the music, singing along with Refugee when Nigel nudged her.  She looked down; he was passing her a joint.  Oh for fuck's sake, not again.  She shook her head and smiled, then turned her attention back to the stage.  "Why not?  It's in the air all around us!" Nigel shouted into her ear.  

   "No thanks!" she shouted back.  "I actually want to remember this!" Ugh, it's gonna be a long night, we're only a few songs in...

********

   Unlike New York, London seemed to turn in for the night relatively early. Most places were closed when the concert let out, so they'd found a grungy little kebab shop and were eating just outside the tube station. The show had been incredible, even with Nigel's annoying interruptions, and Stella felt pleasantly exhausted. 

   "Eager to get back to your man in black?" Nigel asked, shoving lamb unceremoniously into his mouth. 

   "Mmm." She pretended to be chewing for a long time.

   "You haven't mentioned him once tonight, Stella Belle. Don't tell me there's trouble in paradise?" His tone was overly hopeful. 

   "No, things are fine," she lied. "I do have a life outside of him, you know."

   Nigel sensed something more was going on. "Here, let me take the rubbish." He chucked their empty boxes in a nearby bin and returned. 

   "Ready?" Stella said. "The next train should be soon."

   "Sure. But, you know, if there is anything going on, I'm here for you." Nigel drew closer, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "If you ever want to talk... or..." he moved in, as if going for a kiss. 

   Stella's arm shot out, lodging firmly against his shoulder, preventing him from coming any closer. "Train. Now. Fucking hell, Nige, you've really gotta lay off the weed." She started waking into the tube station, not caring whether he followed her or not.

 ********

   Severus stood in the same window he'd watched from earlier, waiting for her to return. Stalking her again, will you ever learn? He couldn't help it. He told himself he just wanted to make sure she got home safely. But really, he wanted to see if she got home at all... or perhaps stayed overnight in London with a certain charming cad. She wouldn't. She has no interest in him. Her parting words were "I love you." But after the way you treated her, maybe she's decided she wants something simpler... 

   He felt as if he were going to jump out of his own skin, when at last he spotted them coming up the long castle entrance. They seemed normal, no more friendly than usual. Gods, he'd give anything to wait for her in her chambers, for everything to be as it was before. He wondered if her door was still charmed to let him in. 

********

   He didn't go into her chambers, but he did conceal himself nearby, just to see if she went home alone. I won't do it again... won't find her purposefully until she comes to me. Just this once... just to make sure she's safe... and alone.

   Stella indeed came home alone, letting herself in without noticing Severus nearby. He breathed a sigh of relief, then wondered exactly how long she might need space. It had only been one day, and already he felt as if the very air were missing from his lungs. 

********