Assassins and Lovers

"What exactly was taking place at the time of the assassination?" Madam Pince asked.

Severus Snape was not sure that he wanted to know exactly what Minerva and Albus had been up to when his Death Feint Draught had taken them down. He had long suspected that the two were conducting a secret affair. . .

It had been rather satisfying to prepare the potion-he was sure no one else in the school could have done it properly. Though I wouldn't put it past Fleur. I've got to be careful now. . . Amending it with a few ingredients that caused the word "DEAD" to automatically appear on their hands had even been slightly challenging. But now, the two had decided to appeal Minerva's death on the grounds that she was not Severus's target.

"Well," Minerva began, "we were talking and drinking coffee." Severus noticed the slight blush on her cheeks. How disgusting.

"Talking about what?" Madam Pince asked. "Did you mention the game?"

"We did mention a few plans," Dumbledore admitted. "A few minutes before we both died."

"What sorts of plans?"

"Plans to kill Severus," Albus answered. "But we were not discussing these plans at the time we died. Thus our appeal."

"Well, Professor Dumbledore, this is really Minerva's appeal, not yours. You are dead. There is nothing that can be done about that," Madam Pince said sternly. Albus stood corrected. "And as for Professor McGonagall, I agree with the game goblet that you two were conspiring, and as such, she, too, is dead."

"Thank you, Madam Pince, for what I am certain is a fair decision," Snape said. "But if you'll excuse me, I must be gone."

He pulled a vial out of his pocket, swallowed the contents, and disappeared.

-----

As soon as he got back to the dungeon, he replaced the five layers of wards that he had constructed around the front of the room. He could teach without leaving his protected area. In the corner, he had placed a small bed. Underneath the bed, he had stored three months' supply of canned goods. He would not leave. If Fleur Delacour wished to conclude the game, she would have to come to him.

-----

It was nearly eleven o'clock when Sirius Black showed up at Hermione's door. He looked pathetic: dark hollows under his eyes, cold sweat on his forehead, and a blank, dead stare. He was wearing pajamas, and tonight, he looked thin and fragile in his loose pants and tight shirt. His hands were shaking.

"Sirius? What's wrong?"

He stumbled inside and collapsed onto the sofa. "Boggart. . . dementor. . . a little insane," he panted.

She sat down beside him and he immediately clutched her in his arms fiercely, burying his face in her shoulder. She could feel him shivering violently, taking deep, dry gasps of air. Composing herself, she put her arms around him, gently rubbing his quaking back. Sirius steadied his breathing and pulled back to face her. His face was pale and soaked with tears and sweat, but he was barely shaking now. "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely. "I woke up, and. . ." The muscles around his eyes tightened. "And a dementor. . . beside my bed. It took me a few minutes to realize it was a boggart."

Oh, no, Hermione thought. I hate to think what he remembered before he banished it. "Oh, Sirius. . ."

"I ran away. . . my first instinct. And I found myself outside your door."

"This is where you should be. You should be with a friend."

At this, he pulled her into another quick hug. "Thank you," he muttered into her hair. "Thank you."

When he had released her, Hermione touched his shoulder, left bare by the sleeveless shirt he had been sleeping in. "I'm so glad you came to me."

"I had nowhere else to go," he said simply.

"Do you. . . want to talk about what happened?"

"No. . . no. . . I can't go back through that again. I just need you to hold me," he said softly. She pulled him back into her arms and let him cry into her shoulder a few moments more. His tears were silent, his pain restrained as much as his volatile emotional constitution allowed. "I'm so sorry," he finally said. "I'm sorry to put you through all this. I'm so weak and burdensome. . . I should be able to handle this. . . all alone. . ."

Hermione touched his cheek and shook her head. "No, that's not so. . ."

Before she could say anything else, he kissed her, hungrily, fiercely, as if she were his only source of air. Her response was as instinctive as his impulsive gesture. She pulled him closer, slipping her hand beneath his shirt and touching the bare skin of his back, feeling his heart thumping rapidly. His grip on her tightened. Hermione's usually clear mind was clouded by one thought: She had to touch this man. He pulled away from her mouth long enough to kiss her throat, sliding her back until she was nearly lying down on the sofa. She wanted to feel him across the length of her body. When his lips met hers again, he was more gentle, slowly brushing them across hers. She parted her lips slightly and tasted his with the tip of her tongue. His hand touched her waist, moving in slow circles, as his mouth began working furiously again, acting on unrestrained impulse.

And then Hermione gently pushed him away, leaving him breathing heavily.

What have we done. . . Is this friendship ever going to be the same again? Do you want it to be?

"Sirius, I can't be that for you now. . . "

He nodded quietly.

"What I mean is, I can't be with someone just because he's there."

She thought she saw a flash of emotion in his eyes. I can't invest myself in him right now. . . if I'm not something special to him, she thought. I don't want to be just another woman to anyone. I want to find a soul mate, not someone who wants me because I happen to be here when he's feeling bad.

"I understand," he said, though she thought it cost him a great deal of pain to say it. "Thank you. . . for. . . for. . . for being there." He patted her hand.

"I'm always here."

"This is my cue to leave."

"No, it isn't," she said, fearing that he was even more fragile than he had been when he entered. "Are you safe alone?"

"I don't think that I am," he finally admitted. "I don't think I can go back to that room tonight."

"Look, you stay here on the sofa tonight, okay? I'll get you a blanket."

"Okay. Thank you."

She walked over to the closet to retrieve a blanket and pillow for Sirius. When she came back, he was already stretched out on his back with his eyes closed. Sensing her presence, he quickly opened them again and allowed her to tuck the pillow beneath his head. After she smoothed the blanket over his thin body, he took her hand and kissed it. "Good night."

"Good night, Sirius. Do try to get some rest."

He closed his eyes again and nodded silently before she walked away.