Keeping Emma

Chapter 5: From the First Moment They Met

When Emma awoke the next day, she was startled to see a tiny, bizarre-looking creature in her room, cleaning. It wore a frayed towel that had a hole cut out for its head as it pushed a mop twice its size around on the floor. She tried to scramble up out of bed, but the restraints forced her to lay still.

"What...who are you?" she asked.

"Telo is one of the St. Mungo's House-Elves, Miss," it said.

"Telo, that's your name?" she asked. The House-Elf's bulbous eyes grew even rounder as it nodded. "Telo, I need to use the bathroom. Can you release the restraints so I can get up?"

"Oh, Telo should not, Miss. Telo should go fetch one of the Healers," it said nervously.

"But the Healers are always so busy, Telo. I bet they would be so happy if you saved them from having to come in here for something so unimportant."

"The Miss is right," said Telo. "The Healers are very busy." He, or was it a she, stopped to think, looking at the door and then back at the bed. "All right, Telo will do it," it exclaimed brightly. It snapped its fingers and Emma felt the restraints disappear. She immediately scrambled to her feet.

"Thank you so much, Telo," she said. "Now, if you don't mind, I am very shy and I'd like to use the bathroom in privacy."

"Oh, of course, Miss," said the Elf. With a sudden popping sound, the elf and its mop had vanished.

Emma flew to the window to see that she was on the first floor of the building. The window opened onto an alley. She turned on the shower. Hopefully, if anyone came in, they'd assume she was in there and it would buy her a couple minutes. She opened the window and climbed out, turning to close it behind her. Then, barefoot, she flew down the alley to the street, stopping to press her back against the red brick building and peeking around the corner. She saw Severus and Dumbledore standing in front of a window and speaking into it. Two other men suddenly appeared as if from thin air and she heard Dumbledore address one of them as Minister. Then, all four men stepped through the window and disappeared.

Emma flew up the street. There were a few passersby walking on the sidewalk. She ran up to an elderly man and woman and began ranting, "Please, help me. People are trying to kidnap me. I'm American. I'm Emma Gianni; the girl they think was killed. I'm alive."

The man and woman only looked frightened and pulled away from her. She heard the woman say, "Honestly, Raymond, it's getting so we can't even go out in broad daylight without being accosted."

"Young people," said Raymond. "She's probably a drug addict, Margaret. From now on, we'll do our shopping in the suburbs."

Emma looked around and saw that the other passersby avoided looking at her and picked up their pace too. She realized that nobody was going to get involved, so she ran up to the next corner where she saw a telephone booth. She hoped that the Brits had the same deal as at home where one could call 911 for free. She hurriedly pulled open the door and stepped inside. She picked up the receiver and nervously dialed 911. But nothing happened. She hung up and tried again, screaming into the dead receiver in frustration.

Dropping the receiver, she turned around to get out of the phone booth and keep running, but Severus was standing there. With him was one of the other men who had gone through the window with him. Severus reached down, grabbed the dangling receiver and placed it properly in its cradle.

"In England, Emma," Severus said, "the number is 999." Then, he grabbed hold of her. Emma felt like the atmosphere was being sucked into outer space. She felt dizzy and nauseated seconds later as they suddenly reappeared outside that same window she'd seen them walk into before. "I'm returning a patient," said Severus to the gruesome looking naked mannequin in the window. Emma saw the mannequin move its arm in a beckoning motion, and Severus dragged a disoriented Emma through the window and back into the hospital. Once inside, he threw her over his shoulder and walked hurriedly up the hall, ignoring the curious stares of the Healers and patients as he returned to her to her room. Emma could see, behind them, the other man following, his gray eyes icy.

Once inside the room, Severus threw her down on the bed. But before he could remove his wand to restrain her, she scrambled off of it. She was like a caged animal. Screaming insanely, she pushed the bed toward them. Then, she picked up a basin on the bedside table and threw it, hitting the gray-eyed man in the shoulder as he entered the room. He withdrew his wand and pointed it at her.

Severus saw and jumped in front of Emma, yelling, "No. You will do nothing to her. You haven't the right."

By now, Emma had extinguished her rather limited arsenal of projectiles. She stood against the wall crying.

Preston Portage looked at Severus fiercely. "I want her punished for that," he demanded.

"Why?" asked Dumbledore. "She has every right to throw things at you Preston. Too bad it wasn't a chamber pot. Also, Severus has custody of her. He doesn't own her. He has no right to punish her either." Then he turned to Severus. "She's hysterical, Severus. You had better give her the calming draught we brought along."

Severus removed a vial from his robes and approached Emma, who shrank from his touch. "You can drink this on your own or I will force you to. It will help you to calm down. It'll only last a few minutes." He removed the stopper and held it out toward her.

Defeated, Emma tried to take the vial but her hands were shaking too violently. "If only it were poison," she said as Severus lifted it to her lips and tipped it back until it was gone. Within seconds, she felt a numbing sense of calm come over her. She stopped shaking and her breathing returned to normal. "You know, it's amazing. You people have all this power and you use it to do something like this. I finally understand what that quote about absolute power corrupting absolutely means."

Portage came around the bed and stood in front of her. "Who released you from the restraints?" he asked.

Emma remembered Selma telling her the night before that prison awaited anyone who helped her. She did not want to get the elf in trouble. "I have no idea," she lied. "I discovered them gone when I woke up."

"It does not matter, Preston," said the man in the purple suit. "We caught her before any harm was done. Er...no harm was done, was it?" When nobody answered, he continued. "Well, let's get this show on the road, shall we?" He looked at Emma and said, "I am Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic." He looked around a moment, almost as if he expected them all to look as impressed with his status as he was. "This is Preston Portage, Head Auror of the Office of Magical Law Enforcement. Professor Dumbledore told me that he has explained what is going to happen to you, is that correct?"

Emma remained silent.

"Er...well, right. I'll take that as a yes. Auror Portage and I decided to come here today to make sure that you understand the consequences of misbehaving. You are very fortunate that you failed to draw attention to yourself during your escape attempt. But any future attempts will result in imprisonment in Azkaban. You hold, not only your freedom in your hands, but young Snape's as well. We are extending mercy to you by handling this matter as we are. You should be grateful, especially to Mr. Snape. If he had refused to accept custody of you, you would be on your way to prison today."

"I'm supposed to be grateful for being denied the chance to ever see my mother, my home, and my country again? What kind of reality do you people live in?" she said.

"One that you are going to have to become accustomed to," said Portage coldly. Then he turned to Severus. "The Minister and I discussed your situation. We are concerned about how you will manage to contain her upon leaving St. Mungo's. We have come up with a way to make your job easier, Mr. Snape." He pulled a flat box from his robes and opened it. Inside was a thin metallic circlet of bright silver. He lifted it out and handed it to Severus.

"What is this?" Severus asked, taking it.

Dumbledore came over and looked at it closely. "I know what this is," he said. "This is one of the training devices wizards used on House-elves centuries ago. I thought they had all been destroyed. They cause excruciating pain for any act of disobedience. It's one of the reasons the House Elves began punishing themselves. These were banned three hundred years ago, for good reason. This is sick and depraved. I will not permit this."

"This one no longer functions in that capacity, Professor," said Portage. "The Discipline Curse was removed and replaced with a Babel Hex." He turned to Severus. "You will place this around her neck. She will not be able to remove it. It has been enchanted so that she will be unable to speak to Muggles. Any attempt to elicit help from a Muggle will result in her only speaking gibberish. Her words will be incomprehensible to them. Also, it will allow her to see and pass through the portals into our world. The enchantments we use to keep Muggles away will have no effect on her. We must insist that it be used should you ever need to bring her around Muggles. If you decide to remove it once you arrive at Hogwarts, you will have to enchant something else, like a ring or something, or the anti-Muggle spells will make her most uncomfortable. Additionally, if necessary, you have permission to use the Imperius to contain her."

Severus pulled the silver circlet open and walked over to where Emma sat on the bed. He placed it around her neck and snapped it shut. The circlet glowed violet for a moment and tightened slightly around her throat.

The calming potion was really taking effect on her. She was sitting there with a little half smile, as if lost in a pleasant daydream. It wouldn't last too much longer--a few more minutes at most. He had made it weak to compensate for her size. He allowed his fingertips to linger, a moment, on her skin. She turned her eyes up to meet his. Great Merlin's ghost, those eyes were incredible.

Dumbledore expected him to gently court her. Who the hell even uses the word 'court' anymore? And he was expected to do it without touching her. Right. That might have worked when Dumbledore was young, but he'd spent enough time reading Emma's thoughts to know she needed to be thoroughly seduced. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. Dumbledore had some nutty idea that they'd fall in love. As for himself, he'd already been burned once by love. He wasn't going back for seconds.

Their mission complete, Fudge and Portage left the room to return to the ministry.

The clothing you were wearing was very badly damaged," Emma," said Dumbledore. "I asked Severus to pick you something up in Diagon Alley. You will fit in much better at Hogwarts if you dress in witches' wear. Now, I will go make arrangements for your release."

Severus picked up a package from the chair and threw it on the bed. "Here," he said. "I had to guess the size. I can make some alterations by magic, if need be."

He sat down on the chair, waiting.

"I'm not going to get changed with you in here," she said. Obviously the Calming Draught was wearing off.

"And I'm not stupid enough to leave you alone in a room with a window," he countered. "Use the bathroom. Do I have to tell you everything?"

Emma swept the package from the bed and flounced off to the bathroom in a huff.

Severus sat, waiting, an evil smile on his face. He couldn't wait to see what her reaction to the dress would be. He had been thinking about the situation. He could manage to find ways to aggravate the hell out of Emma. Oh, nothing overt, just little things. Before long, even Dumbledore would see that he was not husband material. Although marriage to Emma would have its rewards--well, actually, he could think of only one reward--the fact was that he had no reason to marry her. She was going to be stuck at Hogwarts for the rest of her life, as he was. None of the other wizards in residence were of their generation. He was going to be the only game in town. It was only a matter of time before she accepted him as her lover--on his terms and at his convenience, and without the necessity of marriage or a child. The image of him, changing a soiled diaper, filled his mind and he shuddered.

Emma tore the brown paper wrapping and lifted the dress. She looked at the frothy concoction of green silk and black lace. In the bag, Emma also found a long, hooded black cloak, black lace stockings and a pair of tiny, black lace bikini panties. Emma felt a sense of hopelessness come over her. She was humiliated at the thought of him picking out such things for her. It figured that he'd pick out the sleaziest looking costume he could find. She got into the shower. She wanted to cry but didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her with red eyes.

After drying off, Emma began to dress. She realized that he had not provided a bra. What an idiot. If there was one thing she could not go without, it was a bra. Sighing in aggravation, she lifted the dress and pulled it on over her head. It was an emerald green silken sheath overlaid in black lace. The sleeveless spaghetti-strapped bodice laced tightly up the front, or, at least it would if it weren't about two sizes too small. Then, at the hips, it flared into a full skirt made up of layers of black lace that ended in points at mid-calf. She wondered if he had thought about shoes as she tried to tighten the lacings on the front of the bodice. But no matter how hard she pulled, the material would not completely meet in the front. It gaped open down the middle nearly to her bellybutton. She looked in the mirror and gasped. She looked like a seventeenth century hooker.

She stormed out of the bathroom and stood in front of him, fuming. "Do you really expect me to wear this?" she yelled.

Severus somehow managed to keep a straight face. He got up from the chair and slowly circled her, as if appraising the dress. "What's wrong with it?" he asked innocently. "Don't you like it? He stared directly at where her bosom was barely covered by the fabric and black laces. "I think it looks fantastic."

"I can't get the top closed. I look like...like....a...a...lady of the evening."

"And that bothers you?"

Emma stared at him. Was he really that stupid? "Well, duh!" she said.

Severus visibly winced. "'Well, duh,'" he mocked. "Is that an example of what is known as American English? I always did think that phrase was an oxymoron, and you just proved it. So sorry about the dress, but considering the top you wore in the pub, I rather thought you enjoyed displaying your....charms."

Emma's mouth dropped open. She had no answer for that. He was right. That top had been inappropriate. She wished she'd never even seen the damned thing. "Just make it bigger," she said.

"Certainly," said Severus, taking his wand out of his pocket. He lightly placed its tip against the base of her throat and drew it down along the low neckline of the dress. "It's a simple Engorgement charm. But you'll need to take the dress off first. If my aim is even a bit off, it could be catastrophic for you. With your lack of height, it's already a miracle that you manage to keep from falling over face first from the weight of those...um...things."

Emma gasped. She had officially had enough. She raised her hand and swung, intending to slap that mocking smile off his face. But Severus was ready for it. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him, entangling his fingers in her still-damp hair and pulling so her face looked up at his. He brought his mouth to hers and kissed her. Gone was the light playfulness of the way he'd kissed her in the alley on Charing Cross Road and in the pub. This kiss was meant to arouse, not tease. Emma's first thought was to struggle, to push him away. But then she decided to play his game and returned his kiss, sliding her hands up around his neck. He pushed her away from him. Emma fell back against the bed, trying to regain her equilibrium. He might be a jerk, but the man could kiss.

Severus did not want her to see how much he had been affected by that kiss. He pasted a smug, superior smile on his face and said, "Don't play games with people you can't win against, Emma. Now take off that dress before the Headmaster comes back in here."

By the time Professor Dumbledore returned, Emma was sitting in the chair, ready to leave. Severus was standing at the window, looking out as if something interesting was happening in the alley beyond. The tension in the room was so thick he could almost touch it. He wondered what had gone on, but neither would allow their eyes to meet his. He sighed. What in Merlin's name had Severus done now? Was he going to have to write him a script as to how to go about this?

"Well, I see that we are ready to go," he said cheerfully.

Fortunately, the hospital had kept the black dressy shoes that Emma had been wearing the night she was assaulted. She'd found them in the cabinet. She kept her eyes on them, blinking back tears. They'd been her mom's. They were the only things she had left of her mom now.

"First we will return to the Leaky Cauldron on Charing Cross Road," said Professor Dumbledore. "Severus and I have been staying there. I will arrange for tea to be sent up to our rooms. It's best that your presence be kept a secret. While on the street, please keep your cloak on, the hood up. Your face has been on the Muggle news and someone may recognize you. If they do, we will merely use a spell to modify their memory, so it will do you no good. I will apparate directly to Hogwarts from the Leaky Cauldron, so I can arrange to have your chambers made ready. There's a nice little room in the south tower, next door to Professor McGonagall, one of my female teachers. It has a sitting room, a bedchamber, and a bathroom. It's quite cozy, and we can alter the color scheme with a wave of a wand, to whatever you'd like. This evening, Severus will take you to King's Cross Station. I have made arrangements for the Hogwarts Express to transport the two of you to Hogsmeade. You will be more comfortable if you use the faculty car."

"Why can't I just do a side along apparition with her?" asked Severus.

"Because, Severus, it is too far. Side-along Apparition with Muggles, though possible, is not advised. They can be damaged. You've already done it twice, the night you saved her, and today, when she tried to escape. It should only be used for short distances in emergency situations, especially for a girl of her size. If you had bothered to take Muggle Studies, you'd know this."

Severus grew annoyed. Being a half-blood, he'd figured he'd been born knowing everything he needed to know about them. Now he had an endless train ride ahead of him. He could have waited until dark to travel by broomstick. He rather liked the idea of having her behind him on the broom, her arms and legs wrapped around him, holding on for dear life. But then, on second thought, the two of them would have the faculty car on the Hogwarts Express all to themselves, away from Dumbledore's ever watchful gaze. It could prove interesting. Maybe he'd make sure to buy a nice bottle of elf-made wine from the Leaky Cauldron before they left. He began to imagine how he'd set the scene for her seduction, some wine, lights low, have the musicians in the portrait over the fireplace play some soft chamber music. That would definitely work.

*****

Emma waited at King's Cross Station, watching as Severus removed the parcels of his classroom supplies from the trunk of the taxi and loaded them on a cart--oh, sorry--trolley. Once more, she was seething while he was laughing at her. This was humiliating. She'd only wanted to ask the cab driver if he could go by Buckingham Palace on the way to the station. It wasn't like she'd been trying to get him to help her escape. But because of the damned thing around her throat, she'd only managed to say, "Fleep blankiecake putter." At the driver's confused look, Severus had told him that she could only speak American. He thinks he is so clever.

Emma wandered over to a small kiosk where a man was selling flowers. She wished he had some daffodils, but they only bloomed in the spring. Maybe she could have whispered her plea for help into one of them. If magic exists, then miracles must be possible too. She felt her eyes filling with tears at the sudden realization that this was it. It was the last time she would ever see the world she had known. She reached out and lightly touched the velvety, creamy white petals of a rose that was tinged with peach.

"Hello, can I help you?"

Emma started and looked at the fellow who was minding the stand. He was young, perhaps her age, with brown hair and a friendly face. At that second, a breeze swept the hood from her head. She opened her mouth to speak, just to say that she was only looking, but remembered that she could not talk. She just smiled shyly and shook her head no. She turned to walk away, but he called out for her to wait. She stopped to look back and he quickly picked the rose she had been admiring out of its holder and offered it to her.

"Please," he said, "take this and just tell me your name as payment."

At that moment, Emma felt her arm grasped in a vise. She looked up at Severus glowering down at her. She could tell that he was pissed. He reached out and pulled the hood back over her head.

"What are you doing, Emma?" he asked.

The young man said, "Emma? That's your name? Here, take the flower, love."

"She does not want the flower," said Severus coldly. "And besides, she's American. She doesn't speak a word of English."

Emma was totally fed up with Severus and his superior, domineering ways. She yanked her arm from his grasp and approached the young flower salesman. She reached out and accepted the flower. She slid her hand up around his neck and pulled his face to hers, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. Then, she smiled at him, turned, and walked into the station leaving a glowering Severus to follow her.

"Was that little performance for my benefit?" he hissed as they walked toward their platform. Why was he feeling like he'd just been kicked in the stomach?

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, Severus," she whispered back. "He is rather cute though, don't you think?"

"Not my type," Severus returned. He stopped and grabbed her arm again. "Don't you ever do that again. You're mine. You belong to me."

"No, I don't, Severus. And what's more, I'll never belong to you. Not even if you were the last man on this planet. I despise you and always will. Now let me go. We're not supposed to create a scene, remember?

Severus calmed down and looked around. People were giving them rather odd looks.

"What platform do we need?"

"Nine and three-quarters," he said. If she thought this was over, well she could just think again. Just wait until he got her on that train. She would pay for this.

"Isn't Queen Boudicca supposed to be buried under one of these platforms?" she asked as they walked.

Severus stopped short and stared at her in shock. "The Muggles know about that?" he asked.

"You mean it's true?"

"Yes. But the grave is actually in wizard space. She was one of us, you know. "

"If she was, how did she lose?"

"Well, they had wizards on their side too, you know. Here we are."

Severus had stopped the cart in front of a metal barrier that separated platforms nine and ten. He quickly looked around to see if any Muggles were watching. He shoved the trolley through the barrier. Then, he grabbed Emma by the arm again and none too gently dragged her through with him.

Emma removed the cloak, which had been much too warm for the heat of the summer evening and took in her surroundings. If the bright red train engine and the fact that the hubbub of King's Cross had suddenly disappeared were not enough to astound her, the sight of the largest man she'd ever seen walking up the platform toward them would. He was a mountain, with hair all wiry and a beard to match, clothes roughhewn. Emma could feel the planks of the platform vibrating with each step he made.

"Hello there, Severus, or perhaps I'd better start calling you Professor now, hadn't I?" he said, staring down at them both. "And you must be Emma. My, but you are a little 'un, aren't ya'? Are ya' sure you don't have elf blood in ya'? My name's Hagrid, Rubeus Hagrid. I'm the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. Now, why don't the two of ya' get yourself settled in the Headmaster's car while I get the Professor's supplies on board. Go on now. It's the last one."

After grabbing the bag that held the bottle of Elf-wine he'd purchased from Tom in the Leaky Cauldron, Severus grabbed Emma by the arm and began to drag her to the final car of the train.

Emma was sick of being dragged around. She stopped trying to keep up, and when Severus turned to look at her, she gave him a sharp kick in the shin.

"Ow!" he exclaimed. "What did you do that for?"

"I am sick of you dragging me around. I can't keep up with your stride. You are a bit taller than me you know. And my arm is getting all bruised. You're nothing but a bully and...and a jerk."

Severus looked at her upper arm and saw that it was littered with dark bruises. He hadn't thought he was grasping her that tightly. "I'm sorry," he said, touching them lightly, but she just brushed him off and walked off toward the last car of the train.

It was Dumbledore's private car. There was a fireplace with two soft, overstuffed chairs banking it. A richly jewel-toned oriental carpet adorned the floor. There was a row of bookcases and a table with six chairs. But the furnishing that brought a smile to Severus' face stood directly in front of the fireplace. It was an oversized purple chaise lounge. It was just big enough for two.

He realized that Emma had walked over to the table and was peering into a basket that had been left on it. She pulled out a piece of parchment and read. "It's from your headmaster. He says he bought me these items to help make my journey better." Emma began to rummage through the basket. "Oh, look, he got me a few books. This one was on the New York Times Best Seller List last week. I'd wanted to get hold of a copy. And there's some fruit and chocolates and playing cards." Emma looked at the rose that she had laid on the table. She began to look about the car. "I wish there was a vase for my rose. Is there any way to get some water for my rose and something to put it in?"

"Screw the rose," he said. He stormed over to the table and put his bag on the table. He reached for the flower in anger.

"No! Don't! Don't hurt my rose. You'll kill it!" she cried, throwing herself over the table to protect it with her body.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said. "That flower was dead the moment it was picked."

"It's mine. It's all I got." The stress of the last days caught up with her and she burst into tears.

Severus felt like the wind had gone out of his sails. Damn it, he thought, why do they always have to cry?

"Emma, will you please stop crying? I won't hurt the damned stupid flower."

Severus whipped out his wand. He hurriedly concentrated on an old vase of his mother's that sat in his house on Spinner's End and summoned it. He suddenly remembered a night his father came home, drunk as usual, seeing a bouquet of flowers in the vase and ripping them out, hurling them at the wall, yelling about his mother wasting money on damned stupid flowers. He saw, once again, his mother crying over the broken stems and petals as she picked them off the floor. He used the Aguamenti spell to fill the vase.

"Look, Emma. Here's a vase with water. Put your flower in it. Will you please just stop crying?"

Emma lifted her head and saw the vase. Sniffling and hiccoughing, she placed the rose in it. She saw Severus pick up his wand again. "What are you going to do?" she asked suspiciously.

"I can enchant it to last forever," he said. It'll never lose a petal, never wither and die. Wouldn't you like that?"

"No, that's horrible. It's not supposed to live forever. The reason they're esteemed is because they are evanescent. It blooms, and then goes to seed, perhaps leaving its copy on the world for another to love one day. Then it dies. It's sad, but it's how it has to be or there is no value in anything. It was created to die. We all were. When it's time, I'll have to let it go. Don't you see that?"

Unbidden, Lily's face came to mind. "No, some things you need to hold on to. Because if you don't you'll lose it forever and have nothing left except regret and despair."

From the intensity of his voice, Emma realized that he was holding onto someone, or at least trying to. He was talking about himself. "You need to forgive, Severus. Ultimately, it's a choice you make, to forgive others."

"Forgive others," a bitter laugh escaped his throat. "You're very young, Emma. Sometimes there is nobody to forgive. Sometimes, you have to live with the knowledge that it is your own fault, that all the terrible things that have happened are your own fault."

"Then you have to forgive yourself."

"Come on, Emma. Like you practice what you preach. May I remind you what you said just five minutes ago? 'I'll never belong to you, not if you were the last man on this planet. I despise you and always will.' Do you remember saying that, Emma?"

Emma was surprised. He'd actually been hurt by that. It was obvious. She had not thought he cared what her opinion of him was one way or another. "I'm sorry I said that. It was mean. Please accept my apology and forgive me."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. I'd have said it to me too. I've been going out of my way, plotting and planning ways to piss you off."

Emma barked out a laugh. "You have? Wow! You're really very good. Here I thought you were simply a natural at it."

Suddenly, the train lurched. The vase on the table wobbled. Both Severus and Emma lunged across the table to hold it upright, their fingers meeting around it.

Severus placed his hands over hers and looked into her eyes. "I'm sorry too, Emma" he said. "I'm sorry I tried to slip that potion into your drink. I'm sorry I took you to St. Mungos and you've ended up losing everything. I'm sorry I made fun of your height and your...well, you know whats. I'm even sorry about the dress, but not really because you do look incredible in it. But I did deliberately shrink the top of it to see how you'd react."

"What about your nasty remarks about how I speak English?"

"I'll have to work on that one," he said wryly. "You can't have everything, Emma."

The two of them released the vase and stood, facing each other across the table. "I forgive you, Severus, for all of it," said Emma.

Severus looked into her eyes, shocked. She meant it. She'd lost everything; it was his fault, but she was offering her forgiveness. He didn't know how to react to that. He realized that she had more strength and courage in that tiny frame than he would ever have. For the first time since Lily had walked away from him, he cared what someone else thought about him. He walked around the table and pulled her into his arms. "Thank you," he said.

For her part, Emma had no idea that her words had made such an impact on him. She smiled up at him. "You really think I look good in this dress, then?"

"No, I said you look incredible in it. It makes your eyes stand out. You have beautiful eyes. But don't get a swelled head over it. You're still short and you talk funny." He stooped to kiss her.

"Severus?" she said after he kissed her.

"What?"

"Thank you for saving my life."

"Don't mention it," he said.

He took her hand and led her to the purple chaise. He just wanted to hold her. Emma lay with him and took comfort from having his arms around her as he gently stroked her hair and they kissed. He had just untied the lacings on her dress when, suddenly, the door burst open. It was followed by a loud shout.

"What do you think you're doin'? Yeh keep your 'ands offa that girl." Hagrid dropped the bag he was carrying and advanced on them with a speed that belied his size. He grabbed hold of Severus by the back of his shirt and pulled him off the chaise as Emma scrambled off it, her face red as she hurriedly retied the front of the dress.

"I shouldn't 'ave stopped to chat with the engineer. Professor Dumbledore told me that I wasn't to leave ya' alone wit' 'er. You're not to so much as touch her. Professor Dumbledore's orders. I'm sorry, Miss. I never shoulda left ya' alone wit 'im fer even a minute. Don't be upset. It's not your fault. I've been assigned to watch over ya' and protect ya'." He glared at Severus threateningly. "And that's what I intends to do."

He retrieved his bag and sat down on the chaise, which bent frighteningly under his weight. Grumbling something about a sex maniac, he took a large ball of yarn from his bag, and began knitting.

"Oh for crying out loud," said Severus as he threw himself into one of the chairs banking the fireplace. This was going to be one long train ride, he thought.

Emma walked over to the table and sat there. She pulled one of the books out of Dumbledore's gift basket and tried to read it. But she found herself unable to concentrate. She could not keep her eyes from straying over to Severus. He sat haphazardly in the oversized chair, left leg thrown over the arm, his right elbow on the other arm, his face cupped in his hand. His other hand rested on his thigh. He had his lower lip drawn in, his upper teeth lightly biting it.

He kept staring at her, his black eyes doing what his hands could not. She stared at his hands. He truly had the most beautiful hands she had even seen on a man; his fingers were long, tapered, like a pianist's. She stared back into his black eyes and imagined burying her lips into his palm, those hands on her.

She saw his mouth curl into an incredibly sexy smile and she nearly jumped out of her seat. Her face turned red as, with growing horror, she remembered what Selma had told her. He could read minds. Oh my God, she realized. He knew exactly what she'd just been thinking. She turned her face away and threw the book back into the basket in dismay, stifling an incredible urge to begin banging her head on the table. No, no, no. This would not do. She had to control her thoughts. She couldn't let him know that she wanted him. But then she realized it was too late. He already knew, and he'd known it from the first moment they met.