Assassins and Lovers

Albus was already waiting in their secret room--apparently, not such a secret, considering Snape's access--when Minerva arrived. She tried to restrain the flutter of excitement and nervousness--extreme nervousness--as she walked toward the sofa where he was seated, but she was unsuccessful.

The game board was sitting on their table, already set up. "I assume you will want to be the forces of evil, Minerva?" Albus said as she approached, gesturing toward the small armies of elves and orcs.

"I guess I'll have to be--wouldn't the universe fall apart if Albus Dumbledore had to fight on the side of evil?"

"Well, elves are better looking than orcs, you see," he said. "Now that I mention it, perhaps you ought to be the elves..."

Minerva blushed profusely and thought Albus's cheeks were getting pinker, as well--though, perhaps, that could be attributed to the blazing fire. "I think I rather like these Black Riders, myself--yes, yes, I will be evil. I mean, the evil army..."

"I transfigured them to actually fight each other."

She laughed. "I hope you didn't set them up to behead each other with the fake blood flying everywhere like that disgusting chess set you gave me last Christmas..." Minerva had, of course, loved the Bloody Army, as she called her favorite chess set.

"Well, I could always change them back..."

"Oh, don't bother," she said, smiling and finally sitting down beside him on the sofa.

"I made some coffee for you."

"Thank you... espresso, black?"

"Yes."

Albus had locked his gaze directly on her face, and Minerva was petrified. For several moments, both were silent, staring awkwardly at one another. In some ways, things were so clear now--after she had felt his hand on hers at dinner, Minerva had become more hopeful than ever--but more frightened. It was so clearly before her now; she was jittery and impatient--and now, just as uncertain as ever. Could all those years of hoping and fantasizing have led to this moment? Was this what she had been dreaming of for twenty years?

He cupped her elbow lightly with his hand and she shivered. "Are you cold?" he said softly, beginning to lightly stroke her upper arm to warm her.

"No, no... I'm just scared," she confessed, finally breaking eye contact and looking down.

His other hand caught her cheek as he brushed a thumb across her lips. "So am I."

She shivered again and he took her into his arms, slowly, holding her tighter and tighter. His lips near her ear, he whispered, "You have no idea how long I've wanted to hold you."

Minerva pulled back enough to see his face. "Twenty years?"

"Longer," he said, brushing the tip of his nose against hers as he moved his lips closer.

Minerva closed her eyes and turned her head closer. Their lips joined, very slowly, very tentatively, both of them moving very little at first. And then, almost suddenly, she felt as comfortable as she had felt nervous before. Albus began to take down her hair, and a few seconds later it fell all around her shoulders, loose and free. Their lips parted briefly, then rejoined for a series of short, almost frantic kisses. She softly moaned as he dropped a light kiss on her neck.

Unexpectedly, Albus broke the silence and began to speak, still holding her close. "Do you know what I saw on the way here?"

"What?" she said absentmindedly, waiting for his lips to return to hers.

"Professors Lancaster and Weasley... snogging each other silly in the corridor. They didn't even notice me as I walked by."

Minerva jumped. "Are you serious?"

"Quite so... Minerva, did Rachel talk to you about Bill in the last few days, something along the lines of 'I like him but I'm never going to tell'?"

"Well... yes... and Bill said the same to you?"

"The same."

"Oh, wow..."

"We've been set up," Albus said, laughing softly.

"You ought to give them pay raises."

"I was planning on it," he said, quickly reclaiming her lips before she could answer.

It appeared that Lord of the Rings Risk would have to wait for another night. There were more important matters to discuss tonight.

-----

Sirius had forgotten that Hermione's chambers lay between his and Severus's until he found himself a few yards in front of her door. Part of him wanted to knock and check on her--she had left dinner very quickly. At the same time, he was afraid of making an awkward situation even worse. He kept walking, approaching the door, preparing to walk directly past it.

And then, when he was just in front of it, the door flew open. "Sirius!" Hermione said. "I knew it was you. I... I recognized the sound of your walk."

He smiled slightly. "It's good to see you."

"Y-you too," she stammered. "Would you like to come in for tea?"

He didn't speak for a moment. "Yes, I'd like that very much," he finally answered.

-----

Fleur was writing letters when she heard the knock on her door. When she opened it, she was momentarily surprised to see--nothing. Then she looked down.

A house elf stood at her door, holding a vase of flowers--a very interesting arrangement of flowers. "Dobby is bringing these flowers from Professor Severus," the elf said.

"Thank you," she said, taking the vase, a small degree of excitement starting to build.

She went back into her room, closing the door. A note was attached to the vase. Reading it, she smiled broadly for the first time that evening. To my most worthy victim...

The bouquet itself was really quite beautiful, in an eccentric sort of way--who else would have sent black roses? She loved how it seemed to perfectly represent him--dark and frightening, with a steely edge--and a dark red core. The dark green vase, she noticed, had a Slytherin crest delicately engraved on it. She was proud, not for the first time, to have been sorted into his house, even if it had only been for a Quidditch match.

And the man did, without a doubt, know how to kiss--far better even than Bill or Sirius. At least, she thought so. Perhaps his lips were a bit chapped, maybe a little thin... but it was Severus... The brilliant Severus, who knew more than anyone she'd ever met about potions, the Severus who had treated her so politely the night she visited him, the Severus who spoke French like a native... Severus with the solid black robes that sort of... billowed when he swept elegantly out of the room... Her Severus... The note... Yours, Severus.

It had been, perhaps, the most significant kiss of her life... At least until the part when he had pulled away and looked at her like that... She had been ready to cry then, just before she passed out.

And now he had sent her flowers. She wasn't certain what to think, but her optimistic streak led her to interpret these mixed signals rather hopefully.

She was, after all, a five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Beautiful People award. That had to count for something, even with Severus Snape.

-----

Sirius realized, sipping decaffeinated Earl Grey from one of Hermione elegant little tea cups, that this visit was the best ending to the day that he could have hoped for. Reconciliation had been easy enough, and they had quickly fallen into conversation about Fleur and Severus, a match that Hermione seemed to find utterly hilarious and completely appropriate.

"They deserve each other," she said, "and I mean that in the best way."

"I wondered for a minute there," Sirius said, "I know how much you like both of them..."

"Oh, come one, they aren't that bad..." she laughed.

"Yes, they are... they're both incredibly rude people, in very different ways."

"They do have their good qualities, though. Both of them, I must admit, are rather brilliant. It's actually a good match... a couple of Slytherins..." She laughed again.

"Did you know that Snape is one-eighth veela?" Sirius asked.

"No," Hermione said. "I didn't. But I'm not surprised--male veela descendants tend to inherent the features of their birdlike form. That explains the hawk-like nose... And the black hair is a typical recessive trait in veela lines. It also explains his mysterious allure..."

"You really do know everything, don't you?" Sirius said, chuckling. "Wait a second, did you just use the words 'mysterious allure' in reference to Severus Snape?"

"I did," Hermione said, giggling. "But don't worry--I'm not going to start running after him, if that's what you're wondering about. He's still quite a jerk to me."

"Am I a jerk?"

"No, but you're an idiot if you have to ask that question."

"I never can compete with Severus, can I?" Sirius said, realizing that he and Hermione had returned, strangely enough, to a casual flirting relationship.

"From Fleur's perspective, certainly not."

"And from yours?"

"From mine? From mine, you don't need to."