Iuga Sortis II

Twelve

Hermione was quickly becoming annoyed.

"Ron, if you do not stop looking over my shoulder, I will hex you!"

She felt his smile and cursed the shiver that went down her spine. "Hexing a prefect is against the rules, love. Can't have you breaking school rules now, can we?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm friends with you and Harry. Breaking rules is in the job description."

He clicked his teeth. "Is that all I am to you? A friend? Do friends do what we did in the Prefect's Bathroom last night?"

A heat rose in her cheeks as she remembered a bare-chested Ron sharing cherries with her without his hands.

Her boyfriend could be damn creative when he wanted to be.

"I'm sure I could ask Harry if he likes cherries," she said with a grin.

Ron backed away from her, and she nearly moaned at the loss.

"That is not funny, Hermione! Besides, he has Ginny to worry about . . ."

Hermione snorted inaudibly.

That's what you think . . .

"Does he now?" She dipped her quill in the inkwell before she continued to take notes.

"Yes. And you can't go sharing cherries with any bloke, Hermione. Yours especially belongs to me--"

The crack of a slap echoed throughout the library. Madame Pince glared at the pair warningly.

"Pervert!" she hissed.

He frowned as he rubbed his reddened cheek. "There was no call to slap all the magic out of me, woman!"

Hermione threw her quill down in a huff. "Why are you here, Ron? You're not studying, you're not reading, all you're doing is annoying me! Bugger off!" she snarled.

Ron frowned before he smirked. Damn her traitorous body for being affected by it!

"You cursed!" He wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

"So?"

"Punishment. You have to be punished."

She sighed and lifted her eyes to the ceiling. "What are you . . ."

His lips were the softest things she ever felt as they pressed against hers.

There was an audible clearing of the throat, and Hermione pulled away sharply.

"This is no place for a snogsession. Out, you two, out!"

The formidable librarian thrust a wrinkled finger to the entrance. Hermione glared at Ron before packing her things and leaving with her chin held high. She did not look at him as she stomped up the stairs. She only prayed they didn't change on her.

"Hermione!"

She rolled her eyes and groaned. There was nothing he could say that would cool her ire. This was the first time she'd ever been kicked out of her sanctuary. It wasn't as if she went and bothered him at the Quidditch pitch!

"Bugger, woman! You're too fast!"

She stopped and whirled. He was on a set of stairs below her, and she glared.

"That is the point, Ron! I don't want to be near you at the moment! You got me kicked out of the library!"

"So what? I've been kicked out of there loads of times!"

She rolled her eyes again and continued up the stairs. "You just don't get it, Ron. The library is my place, my element! I feel at peace there, just me and the books and educational bliss!"

Ron moaned. "Who gives an arse about 'educational bliss'?! Clearly I haven't been doing right by you." She had just reached the seventh floor, and against her better judgment, she turned to him again.

"What do you mean, Ron?" she sighed.

He made no reply as he climbed the rest of the stairs. Her heart rate increased with each step he took. Her breathing deepened, and she became rooted to the spot. Soon they were face-to-face, mere inches separating them. She licked her lips in anticipation.

He grinned. "You know very well what I mean, don't you, love?"

She closed her eyes against the blue of his gaze. She hated it when he was rightfully smug.

"Leave me alone, Ron!" she huffed and turned on her heel. She hadn't even made a step when his arm snaked out and wrapped tightly around her waist. She was brought flush against him.

"You know you don't want me to do that." The voice rumbled in her ear, and she couldn't control the whimper that escaped her lips. He chuckled lowly and nuzzled his nose against her ear.

"Ron . . ."

"Hmm?"

"Someone could see us!"

"Are you that ashamed of me, Miss Granger?"

His lips trailed kisses at the side of her neck. Her arm reached behind her and brought his lips closer.

"I could never be ashamed of you, Ron Weasley. Disappointed, yes. Ashamed, never."

He spun her in the circle of his arms, and she wrapped hers around his neck. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his chin. He moaned softly and bent his head to capture her lips with his.

She would never tire of his kisses.

"Ron, we really should get out of the corridor. This is indecent!" she whispered against her lips.

He grinned. "Not nearly as indecent as I want to get, Hermione."

She tried to step away, but his hold was too strong. "Did I give you permission to leave?"

Hermione glared at him. "Since when did I need your permission to do anything?"

The grin never left his face. "Not anything. Just important things, like leaving me."

She humored him. "Will you give me permission to leave then?"

He kissed the tip of her nose. "Not on your life."

"Ron!"

"No can do, Hermione. I want to have my way with you."

She looked at him skeptically as a blush formed on her cheeks. "What are you going to do with me?"

"Does it matter? I promise whatever it is you're going to like it. A lot."

He began walking her backwards, and Hermione tried to turn her head behind her. He brought her face back to his and began to kiss her again.

"Where are we going?" she whispered against his lips.

"Somewhere."

She looked to her right and saw Barnabas the Barmy's tapestry. To her left, she saw a door.

She gasped and slapped his shoulder.

"The Room of Requirement? What exactly do you need to do, Ron?" she asked, even as she felt her pulse quicken in anticipation.

"I told you already," he said with that sexy grin of his. "I need to have my way with you."

She frowned. "I thought you said you wanted to have your way with me."

He rolled his eyes. "Want, need, it's all the same where you're concerned, Hermione."

"But--but," she stammered.

He grasped her chin gently. "I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to do, Hermione. I would never do that."

She stared into his eyes and nodded silently. He kissed her forehead and opened the door behind her. There was a roaring fire inside the room and a loveseat before it. A round table was to the right of the sofa with two chairs at it and a bowl of fruit on top of it. A rug was also before the fireplace, and Hermione wondered if it was a soft as it looked.

"Damn."

"What?" she asked. She could see nothing wrong with the room.

He gave her a lopsided grin. "There's no bed."

She gaped at him before slapping his shoulder again. "Ron!"

"A man can dream, can't he?"

"Yes, he can, Ron, but what's your excuse? You're just a boy!"

He stood there shocked for a second before he let out a primal growl. Hermione shrieked and began to run from him.

"No, you don't, you saucy wench! I'll get you yet!"

They ran around the room before Hermione stopped behind the loveseat and Ron in front of it.

"Give up yet, 'Mione?"

"Never!" she laughed.

"I promise I don't bite . . . too hard . . ."

She smirked at him, allowing her teeth to catch her bottom lip. She saw his eyes go to her mouth, and her smirk widened.

"If you're trying to seduce me, love," he began, all the while staring at her mouth, "it's bloody working!"

She looked at him through hooded eyes. "Good."

Ron let out a primal growl before climbing on the sofa and hooking his arm around the back of her neck. He crushed his lips to hers, and Hermione returned the kiss with equal fervor. To her surprise, Ron's arms left her neck to cup her bum. She was about to chastise him when she was suddenly airborne. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clutched his neck tightly.

Her eyes widened, and she sucked in a wild breath of surprise.

"You feel that, Hermione?" he whispered in her ear. "Does that feel like a boy to you?"

She purred, and his eyes widened at the sound. Her legs tightened around his waist, and he let out a hiss.

"Maybe you're just a big boy . . ."

His eyes grew larger, and he began to sputter. "Maybe!"

Hermione chuckled at his squeaked declaration. "Put me down, Ron."

"The couch or the rug?"

She rolled her eyes. "My feet on the floor, so I can walk to the table and do some work."

Ron scowled. "No! No work! Why do you think this room is here? We haven't been together outside of classes and meals in over a month! We need this alone time. I miss you, 'Mione."

She smiled at him and kissed him soundly. "You're such a lovable, considerate boyfriend, Ron!"

"That could have something to do with the girlfriend I've got . . . she gave me pointers, you know," he said with a lopsided grin.

Hermione decided to play along. "Really now? What did she tell you?"

Ron twisted so that he sat on the couch; he did not relinquish his hold on her. "Well, she told me I should always cherish you above all else."

She ran her nose along his hairline. "Even Quidditch?"

Lips caressed her chin. "Only on certain occasions . . ."

She laughed. "You mean not during game week."

"The Hufflepuff match was important, Hermione."

"You mean the very match in which the game lasted all of five minutes? That match?"

"It was my first match as captain, 'Mione. I had to make sure we started strong."

"Yes, and in the process leaving your girlfriend all alone and neglected," she pouted.

"I'm making it up now, aren't I?"

"Ron, it had been a month. Who knows? I could've found a strapping young man to take your place . . ."

"A strapping man like Vicky?"

She opened her mouth to retort but saw he had a grin on his face. She raised her eyebrows and stared at his tie. "Maybe."

Ron gave a bark of laughter. "Not hardly, 'Mione. No other bloke can get a rise out of you like I can."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Should that be the other way around?" She wiggled her hips to get her point across.

His blue eyes darkened. "You're naughty, Hermione."

"Wasn't that your aim, Ron? To get me naughty more often."

He tilted his head as if he were deep in thought. "Right you are, love, right you are. Y'know, your elephantine memory comes in handy sometimes . . ."

"There go those dictionary words I've come to love," she growled, and she nipped his earlobe.

He chuckled. "Sacrosanct."

"Hmm."

"Sublime."

"Oooh."

"Ethereal."

"More, Ron. More."

"Seraphic."

"Yes!"

"Mine."

Silence.

"Ron?"

The game changed, and the room became charged. She pulled back and looked into his eyes. They never strayed from hers.

"I."

"Ron, what are you doing?"

She began to shake, and he smiled gently at her. He removed her arms from his neck and held her hands in his. He kissed the back of her left hand.

"Love."

He kissed the back of her right hand.

"You."

The Room drifted away from her, and only Ron remained. Her breathing was ragged, and she gripped his hands tightly.

"What?"

The question was barely audible, but she knew he heard when his smile widened slightly.

"All those words I said before . . . that's what you are to me. Something sacred, angelic, out of this world; my happiness. This is no joke, Hermione. I do love you. I love you something awful, something wonderful."

She closed her eyes and let the words wash over her.

I love you.

She felt the pads of his thumbs at her cheeks.

She was crying.

He looked sad. "I'm sorry, 'Mione. All I ever seem to make you do is cry . . . ."

Those words; he'd said those words almost a year ago exactly. They were two weeks shy of their very first kiss.

Two weeks shy of when she first admitted to herself she loved him.

"Providence," she whispered as she ran a gentle finger over his lips.

"What?"

"Fate."

"'Mione?"

"Veracious."

She kissed his forehead softly.

"Infallible."

Her lips moved to the tip of his nose.

"Forever."

Kiss on the right cheek.

"My."

Kiss on left cheek.

"Love."

Kiss on chin.

"For."

Nose to nose.

"You."

Mouth to mouth.

A promise sealed with a kiss.

~~~~~~~~~

Dumbledore's expression was grave as he watched the students train. His eyes kept falling to one student in particular, a student who seemed to drift farther and farther out of reach.

"Do you think the detentions are helping anything?"

Jamilah sighed and shook her head. "Since the beginning of term, she's been on autopilot. She's indifferent to everything. She's gotten better in training, but she doesn't care, not like Malfoy and Weasley do."

"And Harry?"

She sucked her teeth. "Harry's only concerned with bestin' Malfoy. If I asked them to see who could climb Mr. Everest the fastest, Harry would do it only to beat Draco, not because it had anything to do with training."

"There's always been a bit of a friendly competition between those two," he said ironically.

"But Weasley, Weasley's strength is in distance. She's an excellent marksman; her knife throws are always precise."

"Can any of them do wandlessmagic?"

Jamilah shrugged. "Nia is the only guarantee; in fact, she's the only one I think it would be as second nature. The only other possibility I see for wandless magic is Ginny, but hers will be limited."

"Which is why they train with Muggle weapons."

"Exactly."

He shook his head. "All of our planning has been for naught; all of our choices have been wrong."

"Granddad, that's not fair to say."

"Isn't it?"

She shrugged. "For me to say 'I told you so' would be a moot point, so I won't go there, but you can't blame yourself for this. Nia was out past curfew, for which she's served detention. With the end of fall term approaching, her detentions for her infractions against Snape are almost finished."

Dumbledore looked at the troubled teenager. "I'm afraid for Severus, Jamilah. The last time a Roberts woman confronted him, he went to the Dark Lord. This confrontation, I don't know . . ."

She grabbed his arm roughly and dragged him to a secluded corner in the large room. He looked at her with sad eyes. "You mean to tell me he'd go back to Voldemort? After all he knows, all he's done?"

He shook his head. "He'll never go back to him, but . . . Severus is a proud, insecure man. That's a bad combination. I'm afraid he'll give up and not do anything."

"What does that mean?"

"He'll waste away to nothing. We won't be able to rely on him, and we can't afford that. Bad enough Percy's risked his family to act as a plant in the Ministry of Magic; we can't have this happen as well, and for naught, because the daughter won't talk to the father."

"If there were any other way--"

"I would've found it; we would've found it. But Severus always knew something was wrong, especially by the way you treated him."

"What do you--"

"Your hostility knew no bounds when it came to him, because of something he didn't remember doing."

"He put an Imperius Curse on Johnson to rape my daughter. I can't just forgive him of that, even if he had no control over his actions."

"So you think Nia calling him a rapist in front of his class was justified?"

"No! She should've known better than to do a thing like that!"

"She should have; never in all my life have I felt such disappointment in her. Severus's already shaky reputation was not helped by that comment."

"I'm just surprised it ain't all over the school."

"It does help she said it in Coptic. Unfortunately for her, Severus understood what the word meant."

"We need to rein in that girl's temper. She's liable to do serious damage."

"She's hurt, betrayed, and alone, Jamilah."

"She got me!"

"Does she? You lied to her; we all did. Her mother did. How can she truly trust anyone when her life has been one secret after another? How would you feel if you were the child of a rape, Jamilah? That the father you loved was the person who caused it? It's not a revelation one takes lightly."

Jamilah said nothing. He sighed and watched the students again. Draco and Ginny were doing their routines with the bo stick, both sharing flirtatious glances each time their weapons collided. Harry was breathing heavily from his parrying of the swords. Niawasn't even sweating, so automatic were her movements. She looked like those things Muggles called robots.

"Christmas holiday begins next week. I think it best for her to stay at Hogwarts."

"To talk with Severus."

"And to keep her away from Caleb. He is not her favorite person in the world right now."

"But Angelina will want to see her sister; they haven't spoken in months."

"And how is this different from the three years they didn't have contact with one another?"

"It's different now. There are no long-distance telephone charges I have to deal with anymore!"

He chuckled. "Then she could visit Nia here. The child needs a bit of happiness in her life . . ."

Jamilah heard the change in his tone. "Granddad . . ."

"This is all my fault," he sighed, rubbing a hand wearily across his face.

"Don't say that . . ."

"No, Jamilah, it is. This is the third time my actions have caused one of these children to lose someone they love. First Ginny with Percy, then Harry with Sirius, and now Nia with Severus. Sometimes I think I'm not fit for this job."

"You are, Granddad. Savin' the world was never gonnabe easy; it comes with sacrifices, as you said before."

He chuckled shortly. "Perhaps I should stop calling them 'children.' Their life experiences are anything but what a normal child has seen."

"They are the Chosen . . ."

"Bollocks to that!"

Jamilah hugged his left arm, and he dropped his head. He knew coming into this it would be hard, but he never realized the effects this endeavor would have on the students, especially Nia. Her entire foundation had been rocked, and instead of finding solace in Hogwarts as Harry, Ginny and Draco had done, all Nia had found was lies, betrayal, and hurt.

"She needs to know the entire truth, Jamilah," he said finally.

"Don't she know it already? She knows how she came into being."

"But that is not the entire truth."

"What--"

"AARGH!"

Their heads whipped to see Harry drop his weapon with a clank and sink to the ground in pain. Nia was staring at the blade that was coated with Harry's blood on it before she, too, dropped the weapon. Jamilah began to assist them when his hand stayed her.

"Granddad! What are you doin'? The boy needs help."

"This will happen in battle, love. We need to see if they know what to do if the situation arises."

By now all three of them were surrounding Harry. Draco placed a comforting arm around a badly shaking Nia, while Ginny lightly touched the gash on Harry's arm. There was a hiss from the dark-haired boy at the contact.

"Sorry," Ginny whispered.

"I need to go to the hospital wing," he said through clenched teeth.

Ginny shook her head. "No, you don't."

She placed her palm over the gash. "Paxre 0wwqe swtf kex."

A scarlet light radiated from her hands and onto Harry's wound. Everyone was breathless by the display. A few moments went by, and Ginny lifted her hands.

The wound was gone.

"Bloody hell!" Harry exclaimed.

"Ginger?" Draco asked, taking a step back from her. Ginny stood slowly, clasping her hands together and resting her chin on top of them.

Nia approached the other girl slowly.

Ginny smiled softly. "Did you understand what I was saying?"

"Yes! You said heal wound, purify arm."

"It's the language of the gods."

Dumbledore saw Nia's eyes widen with understanding.

"It's time. She has to know," Dumbledore said to Jamilah.

"What about Ginny?"

"Ginny knows already, and I daresay Draco does as well. They found the room."

"How? I thought--"

"They've unlocked the magic already, as seen by Ginny's marvelous display of healing powers."

"Then why could Nia show hers?"

"Nia's just a more powerful entity; she's a direct descendant. The other three had their essences artificially placed within mortals; it takes more time and more training to manifest it fully."

"Right. Are you going to tell her then?" Jamilah asked.

"No. It's too soon for her to know the details, but Severus needs to know; I'll tell him the truth."

"What do you mean? I though he knew already!"

"Did you miss the look of shock that passed over Severus's face? He had no more knowledge of the truth than Nia did."

"But he was there! He cast the spell--"

"He doesn't remember doing that."

"What?"

He sighed. "I removed his memory. He would've never forgiven himself if he remembered what he did. He would've never forgiven me for making him do it."

She gasped, and he gave a mirthless smile. "Ah, you've figured it out, love. Severus is no less a pawn than Caleb is. If anyone's the 'rapist,' it is I."