Pages of Frumpology

Let it Snow

2007-12-23T17:11:02Z

This is a little Severus/Hermione one shot revolving around Christmas. It's a little fluff piece, inspired by the challenge set by xelusive memoriesx on SAYS. (says-skills.com) And, a prompt provided by

dselena

Severus/Hermione, fluffy, no potions, no telling how they got together *hugs you* Merry Christmas, darling.

Amazingly AWESOME banner was provided by Anna Black on SAYS. Thank you SO much *fangirls*

Everything through the fogged up, old window looked like the inside of a snow globe. Merry people dancing along in the snow, building snowmen and making snow angels, having fun as winter set in around Spinner's End. Severus stared out of the window spitefully, his lip twisted into a disdainful grimace. She was there with them, making igloo forts and tossing snowballs at people as they passed by.

The jingle of bells could be heard reverberating off of the rickety walls and Severus all but covered his ears. How could she stand outside, freezing her knickers off, and cover herself and others in snow? And what was that horrendous tune she was bellowing at the top of her lungs? Why couldn't she just come inside, have hot tea and sit still like any normal girl her age? It was distressing, to think that this older man had bedded such a young heart, when he, himself, had such mature standards.

"Sev!" He heard her cry from outside. When he turned his head to face her, he couldn't help but soften slightly at her pink tinged cheeks and innocent browns staring at him. "C'mon Severus. The snow is perfect!"

He bared his teeth in an annoyed sneer and rolled his eyes at her, as she pulled her cloak more tightly around her slender body. She would have frostbite before the day ended. And he didn't have the time or the desire to whip up a curing potion. He would just let her suffer from her childish decisions.

Splat!

Jumping back, Severus tutted and caught his breath as the remnants of a snowball dripped down where his face once held position at the window. With his eyes still wide with surprise, he stood up to the window and stared out of the sloshiness. Hermione was doubled over with laughter, her finger pointed in his direction. He stalked from the window then and stopped at the closet, grabbing his cloak from its hanger. Wrapping it snug around his frame, Severus reached into his pocket and withdrew his black hat and gloves.

"Alright?" She asked smugly, walking up to Severus as he approached her. His face was nonplussed, the straight line of his lips refusing to move. "Don't be so broody, Sev. It's Christmas Eve!"

Instead of answering her, he gripped her arm roughly below the elbow and dragged her away from the screaming and excited children. On a snowy bank, near a frozen lake, he finally stopped and let her go. He wouldn't face her, and just stared over the ice, his beetle black eyes clashing viciously with the pristine, white snowdrifts.

"I was having fun," Hermione pouted, throwing one end of her purple scarf behind her back. "You should try it sometime. That pissy mystique does get quite old, you know."

Severus narrowed his eyes, but still refused to turn himself so that he was standing in front of her. "It's been two years since you've brought me back to this place. Seven hundred and thirty days exactly. And I still hate the bloody lot of it."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione sat down in the snow. She glanced up at Severus, not getting a rise of attention out of him.

"I hate the noise, the cold, and the false cheerful smiles," he continued, kicking around the snow by his feet. "Those stupid carols and stories, the chocolate and gifts."

Hermione lay back in the snow and placed her legs apart, parallel to her hands. The snow was falling gently, little flakes in her hair and on her face. She wanted to laugh at the sight of herself, but knew better than to interrupt Severus in the midst of his tangent.

"The smell is repulsive and my potions are needed more frequently thanks to the idiots that use Yule log to keep themselves warm," he kept going on and on, now finally gazing down at Hermione as she made her snow angel. "All of the best ingredients are buried under the snow, or hibernating because of the snow."

Hermione scoffed and moved from her snow angel carefully, trying her best not to step on the wings or the cloak. As she tiptoed around it, she squatted down above the imprint of her head and drew a circle with her gloved finger. She nodded, mostly to herself, and stood up straight, staring into Severus' pretentious eyes.

"Don't let me ruin your tribulations," she said finally, gesturing her hands forward for him to continue. "Please, enlighten me on the wicked ways of Christmas."

Severus didn't deter his eyes. The depth of them caught Hermione off guard, causing her to be pulled in to his next words; the hurt crushing her overzealous heart. "Cheeky attitudes from little girls, selfish wishes, wanton dreams. Christmas is for a bunch of sniveling kids who have nothing better to do than to waste their time being coerced by the Muggle traditions."

"I see," she whispered, turning from him finally. "I just thought-"

"Do you want to know what's worse?" Severus interjected, his voice rising higher than the monotonous tone it had been. He didn't wait for her answer. "For the second year in a row, I've fallen deeper and deeper into this god forsaken day, time, season. And all because of one thing."

Crossing her arms, Hermione steadied herself with one foot out in front of her. "You watched It's a Wonderful Life and realized that you have loads in common with George Bailey?"

He managed to smirk now, seeing her so frustrated sparked something inside of him. "Hermione, the only thing that keeps me attached to this... this inane idiocy is you." Squinting and tilting her head, Hermione stared open-mouthed at Severus. He had a crimson color to his cheeks, flushing down his neck and then hidden below his robes.

"How... romantic?" Hermione said finally, deciding that he probably meant the backhanded compliment in the best of ways. "If you'll excuse me, Severus, I was having fun participating in the inane idiocy of the winter season. Should you choose to come out of your woeful hibernation, I'll be making buttons out of rocks." Her final words were emphasized as she turned on her heel and stomped away.

"Right," was all Severus could muster as he watched her march back to the children with a sway to her hips. He was rooted to the spot, a sneer most easily gracing his pointed face. He shoved his pale, slender hands into his trouser pockets and kicked at the snow on the ground, silently cursing the falling snow from the sky. Two years ago, Severus positively hated the smell of the frost, the molten candles flickering around his small, dingy home, the mirth, which Hermione had greeted him. Loathed the lot of it. And now that he had finally grown accustom to the merriment, she turned her back on him and stalked away as if offended by his declaration.

"Sod her, then," he whispered evenly to himself. It would be easy to go back to the moody and intolerable Grinch of a git he had been. She was the reason he even bloody tried to be more. Yes, she was the entire reason for this catastrophe. Hell, if he was given time, he could probably trace her genes back to the reason the poxy holiday had started in the first place.

But, he didn't mean it. He didn't believe a bleeding word of what was flowing through his mind. She may have been the reason that he acknowledged his place, here at Spinner's End and, effectively, in the Wizarding World. And she may have been the first thing he had tried to tear apart when he realized he was back from the beyond. But she was now the reason he looked forward to waking every morning. The terrible, buck toothed bint. He embraced the loathing he felt for her, and adored every second that he was annoyed with her. Most secretly, of course.

He narrowed his eyes as she grinned in the distance. Whether she was trying desperately not to make eye contact with him or not, it seemed so unnatural to have her looking elsewhere, getting lost in something else. They had spent their days with each other and their nights wrapped up in each other. To see her so happy amongst others twisted a knife in his gut.

Severus marched over to Hermione, hands turning into freeze pops inside of his trouser pockets. His feet were starting to feel the icy snow slip inside and everything was getting just a little bit worse as he approached her. His mind told him to turn away, to lock the door, and never face her again. Not after her blatant disregard for his confession. Not after two years of opening up only to have Hermione shove the door of her secrets in his face.

He cleared his throat, standing behind her. His curtain of hair fell gracefully over the sides of his face, snow catching in the strands, clashing with the black. She barely glanced at him, instead focusing on the buttons of her snowman and the little boy she was helping with the construction of it. Once again, he coughed and this time moved his hands from his pockets to behind his back. The stance worked in his classroom all those years ago, striking fear into each student that passed through the walls. And still, she paid him no attention.

"Miss Granger," he said finally, an air of hesitation in the whisper of his voice.

Hermione stopped her giggling and turned her head to stare, open-mouthed, at Severus. Her eyes were slits as the rocks in her hands tumbled into the snow.

"I think it's pertinent that we discuss our...situation," Severus continued, ignoring her slight hitch in breathing. "Now"

Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes, arms instinctively crossing over her chest. "I think, Severus, that you've made yourself perfectly clear. You hate Christmas, the whole Christmas season. Apart from," she lowered her voice and leaned in to him, "me. Probably the advantage of my... generous mood."

His tongue clicked; outraged flared in his black, endless eyes. "What do you want me to say? That I love you?"

She jerked away from him. "After two years, Sev, it might be nice to think that you love me."

"For the love of-" He broke off and spun on his heel, leaving her alone to her friends and snow. So, she wanted to think he loved her; she hadn't been paying attention to him for at least the last year and a half. With his feet sogging wet and his hands frozen into balls, he apparated into his house and brushed off the snow from his shoulders. "Insufferable, imprudent, naive, manipulative..."

Boxes shuffled around his home, some floating in mid air, some stacking themselves against the wall. If he could only remember what he did with the damn thing in the first place...

"Ah," he exclaimed quietly. He opened a very small black box and smirked at what lay inside. Something to give Hermione, to prove that he cared for her. At least, this would say that he paid attention to things that she would say over the last few months. At most, this would buy him another few months to work up the courage to tell her how he felt. "Cocky, snide... Gryffindor."

His eyes were drawn outside again, through the fogged up window. Hermione stood in a circle with others, dancing around like a ritual was going to take place. Closing his eyes, agitated, he shook his head and tried to clear it of witty remarks. Instead, he found himself outside again, just out of reach of Hermione.

"Here." It was simple. He shoved the black box into her hand and stood back, his head lowered slightly and his eyes not daring to meet hers... or the others that were staring at them.

Taking a chance, he allowed his eyes to look up at her and only briefly did he catch the small shadow of a smile playing on her lips. He too, couldn't help but feel the warmth spreading in his chest, knowing that she was going to enjoy this... forever.

"Oh, Severus! It's absolutely beautiful," Hermione whispered, pulling something silver from the box. He finally brought his shoulders up square and stared at her, engaged now in her abundant smile and radiant eyes. "Where... when...."

Walking up to her, he placed his hands on her hips and looked down to her. "My mother use to tell me stories of this pin." His finger touched it, memories flooded back to him... a time when he enjoyed Christmas and still believed in Father Christmas. "She said that if you use this pin on a snowman's top hat, he will come to life for twenty-four hours."

Hermione laughed. "That's a ridiculous children's tale, Sev. Surely you don't believe that?"

"There are a lot of things I'd no sooner believe." Severus took her chin in his fingers and tilted it so that she faced him directly in the eyes. They stayed inches apart, her breath keeping his nose warm. He glanced down to her lips, back up to her eyes and then down to her lips. "Spend tonight with me, Hermione."

Only his lips had sealed his question with an answer as they met hers gently, almost sweetly. She pulled back with a smile on her lips, nodding her head. "Merry Christmas, Severus."

Friends

2007-11-13T22:24:46Z

dselena has had a graphic made for us in honor of friendship and I just HAD to share. *melts*

It was made by Chatterbug www.chatterbug.com

Thanks a bunch, Marissa!! *hugs* Love you!!

Light in Dark Eyes

2007-10-28T17:59:38Z

This story was written a few months ago, post DH. I had told myself that if my assumptions of Sev/Lily turned out to be true, I'd write a story about it. While they were not completely true - JK squashed my vision of pretty fluffy bunnies - it wasn't completely false either.

So, as I sat down to write, I made it as canon as I could. And I'm so NOT a canon mogul. =P

When I had finally finished it, I dedicated the story to mist_shadow

Drizzle from the sky clinked on the old gutters that lined the aged houses on Spinner's End. As Severus approached his childhood home, his breath fogged in front of him. The thunder clapped, sounding throughout the village; lightning lit up the night, revealing an open laceration on his pale, pointed face.

He'd done what he vowed to do and now only hoped that it was enough to appease his Master's unquenchable lust for power. Overhearing the prophecy being told had put him at the top of the Dark Lord's ring. It was what he had aspired to since he lost the sight of love. Love. He nearly scoffed at the thought. The worst feeling he had ever relished in. Unrequited love; what it had come to be.

Though, she was always worth it. Always.

A twig snapped behind him, followed by a quiet swear. Severus' lanky body whipped around quickly, his wand draw offensively. He dropped it slightly as a cloaked figure approached. Shining through the dark hood was the mystery he had fought to solve his whole life. After all they had shared, all of the discoveries they had set out before them, a chance meeting and an unlikely catalogue of events meant that Severus' dark, shadowed eyes were glaring to face with the loving, green eyes of his childhood friend.

"Severus," she whispered pleadingly, upon him quickly; her hands gripping his robes. "Tell me that you... that you didn't..."

Even the pain in her voice couldn't shake him completely from the shock he felt as her fingers dug deeper into his cloak, burning the skin beneath. He averted his eyes slightly, not bearing the sparkle of shame that was trying to pierce him. As she stood there, waiting for an answer, Severus fidgeted with his feet, shifting his weight, rolling his hands together behind his back - anything to keep himself from touching her.

"Did you?" She asked more firmly, face ablaze with anger. "You've joined... him!"

She shook him harshly, hurt and disbelief written into every line of her skin. Severus caught her hands in his, finally, and pried her away from his clothing. He didn't let go as they dropped like a rock by her sides. Every ounce of strength kept him from pulling her into an embrace when the tears started sliding down her cheeks. Not daring to speak, he gazed at her, willing her to understand his motives.

"Will you kill me, Sev?" Lily strained her voice; he could feel the tear in her throat when her pitch raised. "If he commanded you... would you kill me?"

"You shouldn't have come here, Lily," he rasped out, avoiding the question that had been plaguing his mind since he had agreed to be the Devil's lap dog. "It's not safe out here for a-"

Lily scowled. "For a what exactly? Mudblood?"

Shaking his head, Severus allowed a dry laugh to escape his throat. "A muggle-born. Lily-" He paused, taking in the mess of emotions before him, coolly reminding himself of how weak and vulnerable they made everyone. "Just... Go."

He winced slightly at her intake of breath. With her hands squeezing around his, Severus tried to concentrate on getting her away from him, out of harm's way, back into the arms of someone who could keep her safe.

"Answer my question," she demanded, her fingers digging into the skin on his hand. "Would you kill me, Sev? With everything we're fighting for... would you maim me like one of the rest of them?"

Roughly pulling her body against his, he removed his hands from hers and wrapped his arms around her waist, not allowing her to move. As much as she struggled, twisting against him, Severus refused to give a break to the force he was keeping her trapped with. Her fists raised, beating against his taut shoulders as angered cries emitted like a fury from her mouth.

"Let. Go," she ground out, stomping on one of his large boots.

He didn't twitch, didn't blink, couldn't cast his eyes away from her. When he spoke, it was neither in his usual neutral tones, but a caring, pleading whisper. "I would never hurt you, Lily. You have to know that."

Hoping in vain that his words would pierce her, Severus loosened his grasp around her. Lily quickly backed away, bringing her hand up fiercely and slapping it hard against his pallid cheek. On contact, his face whipped to the side and didn't move to look back at her. Instead, he stared down at the ground, able to hear the rapid breathing from Lily, feeling her blustering presence surrounding him like a hawk on prey.

"I don't know anything anymore, Severus," she said through gritted teeth, drawing his attention back. Lily shook her head, arms crossing over her heaving chest, an eyebrow raised over one of her emerald eyes. "What happened to you? Who are you?"

Severus took a timid step towards her, noting the way she raised her chin in defiance. "You refused to see this about me in school. You saw me with blind eyes. You trusted me, befriended me, and fell in love with me-"

"Love?" Lily spat, uncrossing her arms and placing them on her hips. "Does your lot even know the term?"

He had expected her to lash out, not accept the feelings she had for him all those years ago. But to question the one thing he was ever sure of in his life... "I know what love is. It's in your eyes."

"Save it, Snape." Lily turned her back to him, her shoulders slouching. "Keep the past exactly where it should be."

No matter how hard he tried to deny it, his yen for her was forever insatiable. The past belonged where it was, but the future was still undetermined and the curiosity within him could no longer keep him at bay. At one time, she loved him. And he had always returned that love, despite his better judgment. A churning deep in his soul pushed him closer to her, his step languid and calculated.

He raised his hand up to her chin, his finger sliding under it, caressing it, admiring the strength she carried in it. Watching her carefully, he brought his face to hers, the tingle of his warm breath grazing her skin gently. A part of him wanted her to come the rest of the way, but he knew that he was giving her too much credit; Lily never admitted defeat. He would take her, gracefully and wholly.

Gliding his finger along the bone of her jaw, he tilted his head and brought his focus to her eyes, gingerly testing the way his touches would affect her. When the sour expression passed into indifference, Severus placed his hand on the nape of Lily's neck and pulled her in, pressing her lips soundly against his own. Neither moved, locked in the moment that would define their relationship for a lifetime.

"Sev," she mumbled against his lips, causing him to withdraw by a mere millimeter. "I can't..."

No matter the imploring tone, Severus swept back against her, this time claiming her, proving to her that she could, in fact, indulge. His fingers danced along her hairline, taking turns between tugging and pressing. The feel of himself exploring her, his tongue moving its course, tasting what he had craved for so long. She was like a rock, not moving her body next to his, not grasping onto him in any way, and still, it couldn't stop his ministrations.

His hand left her silky hair, descending to her goose pimpled arm, taking it in his hand and placing it around his neck. He felt her lips twitch, knowing now that she was starting to respond to him. His hand then slithered back up her flesh, the cold chill in his bones being replaced by an entirely new feeling. Warmth, the fire and passion he had held back for so long was beginning to boil over inside.

He stepped forward, pushing her to move, until her back was pressed against the cool brick of his childhood house. Severus parted their lips, but didn't lose contact with her body for long. While his lips cascaded over the skin of her jaw, her neck, her pulse point; to her collarbone and back up again, Lily fidgeted in any way that she could.

It wasn't until he reached her lips that a sigh tumbled from her. She pushed him back, the desire seeping from her eyes. "Sev-"

As Severus placed his hands on her hips, he kissed her cheek lightly and pressed his against her. "I will never hurt you."

She gulped for air and he dug his fingers gently into her, trying to convey the fervor he was unable to suppress. "You're one of them now," she muttered softly.

His face moved along hers until the corner of their lips were touching. His breathing uneven, he reassured her to the best of his ability. "I am who I have always said that I am. I'm yours, Lily. Always will be."

Lily trembled as her lips maneuvered to hover over his. "Promise me."

He sealed it with a kiss, a timeless and sentimental detail that would ensnare time, trap it in a bell jar and hold it forever - where it would remain always.

*

"M-Master..." The cowardly shape of Peter Pettigrew sneaked into a grand room, dark furnishings lining the tiled floor below. "I have some - some news, My Lord."

Voldemort stared at the hunched boy in front of him, his eyes narrowing in disgust. "Tell me, Mr Pettigrew. Lord Voldemort waits for no one's gutless babbling."

Severus couldn't help but enjoy the little shiver the boy had let pass through the room. If he could feel it, it was certain that his Master could sense it as well. He watched on with a sardonic smile. If Pettigrew only knew the fate that laid in store for him, what Voldemort had been planning after he had extracted all of the information he needed. James Potter would be out of the way, at least.

"Two of the Order are carrying children," Peter choked out, his hands fretting near his mouth. "There are stations set up for the deliveries already. They have talked about being quieter in July, with the birth of the babies."

Voldemort's flat nose flared, a sense of understanding blanketing the room. He glanced at Severus, his face twisting into confirming expression. Severus braced himself for the next order, his continuation of his first task - the prophecy was coming to fruition.

"Who are the parents," Voldemort hissed out in a command for knowledge. When Peter flinched, Voldemort withdrew his wand threateningly, giving the rat only a moment's notice before lashing a curse out toward his feet. "Speak!"

"L-Longbottom," Peter recounted quickly. "The Aurors. "

A cynical laugh echoed in the room. Voldemort seemed unimpressed. "And the other?"

Shuffling his weight, Peter eyed Severus nervously. "It...My Lord, you must understand my position!"

Voldemort was upon the boy vengefully, wand at his throat. "You dare defy Lord Voldemort. With the rewards that I have offered you?"

"The- the Potters," Peter hiccuped. "James and Lily."

Every fiber inside of Severus wanted to snap, to shout out furiously against Peter's traitorous nature. He contained himself, and in later years would question how he managed to hold his tongue. His icy glare shot to Peter, willing him for just a moment to read the fury marked inside of his eyes. They glittered, the black lit up with a blaze of fire.

"Ah," Voldemort's pleased release caused his wand to fall from Peter's neck. " Severus!"

"My Lord?" Severus stood at full attention, controlling the race of his heart beat. If he couldn't master himself, Voldemort would see through to the depth of Severus' soul; the feelings and the love he held for Lily Evans-Potter.

"We have our lead. Are you prepared?" Voldemort's eyes surveyed Severus, burning into his mind. "My most loyal servant."

There was no other choice. Severus nodded, acknowledging his role. "I am, Master."

"Wormtail," Voldemort barked, "take your leave the way your entered. Severus and I have much planning."

Peter bowed clumsily and backed out of the room, but not without aiming for one more glimpse of Severus, whose face was sallow, sunken, and hollow.

"I need that child," the Dark Lord spoke greedily. "It is up to you to trail those blood traitors and filth. You will lead me to them when the time comes, Severus. And you will be honored above all others for bringing about my reign in this world."

"A question, if I may?" Severus voiced evenly, keeping curiosity from plaguing his eyes. With affirmation from his Master, he continued. "The Potters, Lily... they needn't be harmed?"

"They are corrupting our race, dear boy," Voldemort answered indifferently. "They have defied me, stolen precious time. Perhaps they should be slaughtered."

The words flew from his lips before he could stop them. "Not all of them!"

Voldemort stared at Severus, his eyes questioning, his body language a definition of disbelief. "You are questioning me, Severus?"

"Forgive me, My Lord," he murmured, "the girl, Lily Evans. She is a quality witch."

"Mudblood," Voldemort retorted in disgust. "I would spare Potter before that-"

"Arrogant bastard, he is," Severus disputed.

Perceiving the situation, Voldemort allowed a bitter smile to wash his mouth. "You love the girl, Severus?"

Appalled by his own admittance, Severus confirmed the answer, his head tilting a fraction of an inch. "I do, My Lord."

He could feel the intrusion into his thoughts, and blocked out what he could. The most skilled Legillimens in the world, testing the waters of a mind that had before been off limits. Severus allowed what he could spare and nothing more.

"We can negotiate, Severus," Voldemort implored satisfactorily. "The child for your Mudblood."

There was not a second thought when he agreed. His promise would be kept.

*

"Severus Snape comes here tonight as a guest," Dumbledore informed a dozen people stationed around a long, wooden table. "He has agreed to help the Order on their quest against Voldemort." A shiver ran its way around the table at the use of the Wizard's name, but Dumbledore took no notice. "We have it now, on the authority of Mr Snape, that Voldemort intends to try and stop the Prophecy from being fulfilled."

A young man stood up from the table, slamming his flat palm against it. "Snivellus! You're putting your faith in his word? Albus, are you losing it? He would do anything..."

The raven haired boy quieted down as a hand encompassed his elbow. "James-"

"Not now," he barked to his wife. "He may have a good report with you, but he is not to be trusted, Lily."

Lily stood tall next to James, her eyes begging for him to understand. "He may not care for you, James Potter, but Severus would never-"

"This is ridiculous!" James turned to face Dumbledore, his gaze not being shrunken by the old man's blue eyes. On his left, another dark haired boy stood, spite dripping from every motion he made.

"He's one of them. They don't leave his side, Dumbledore. You can't believe-"

"I do," he stated simply, a serene smile overcoming his face. "And you better as well. He will be inducted into the Order whether you agree to it or not. Mrs Potter will vouch for him-"

Shouts came from around the table, it seemed as thought Dumbledore's favor was being dismissed. It was then that Severus stood, his black locks dangling over his face.

"I'm risking my life-"

"And ours as well, you great bat!" Sirius barked, earning respectful approvals from the members of the Order.

The corners of Severus' mouth curved upward and he turned his full attention to Lily. "I made you a promise. I won't back down from it."

Blushing, Lily raised her chin and addressed the rest of the crowd. "I am putting my life - and the life of my son," she glared at James, daring him to argue with her, "in Severus Snape's hands. If you are against him, then you are against me and ultimately the lives of my family."

Silence followed her bold statement. Each person was looking back and forth between the greasy boy's eye contact with Lily. James sat, huffing and running a hand through his hair. Mistrust, animosity, jealousy... it was all written in his eyes. Severus tried to hold down the pride he felt, but it shined through the blackness without effort.

*

Severus paced up and down the abandoned street, the wind howling, rustling the leaves in the trees and causing the water from the lake to ripple. He was burning holes in his boots, waiting for her to arrive. All of the tension that had been built up over the course of the past six months was no where near release; the move was going to be made and Severus feared for her life now more than ever.

He bustled around, kicking stones, antsy. If he stopped moving, the world could as well. Stuck. He felt disconnected. His head full. There was danger at every corner and no matter where he placed himself he was throwing caution to the wind. It was as if he was in his own bubble, unable to move, helpless against the motions of time and the reserves of destiny.

"Sev." The voice came from nowhere, but he could not mistake the dulcet tone.

He stepped towards the voice, reaching out blindly to grasp her arm, her hand, anything...to get her inside, safe. A hand wound around her wrist and he began dragging her up the street, looking from side to side, making sure they were completely alone.

"Stay close," he whispered back to her. He didn't have to see her to know her response, a nod. It was her scent in the wind, the way that it brushed past his crooked nose and lingered around him.

When they reached their destination, a dilapidated house, Severus shunted Lily inside ahead of him and sealed the door with his wand. He spun around, relieved to have her with him again, but worried to be found. She had taken off the cloak, shaken out her hair and stepped forward, nearer to him.

"What's happening, Severus?" She asked in a business-like manner, squaring her shoulders. "What is the urgency?"

His hands raked through his hair, pulling on the strands, hoping for some alleviation from his thoughts. And then their eyes caught each other, the sorrow in his own matching the strength of courage in hers. Reaching his hand out, he brushed a strand of hair from her shoulder to lie behind it. Working up the fortitude to tell her their mistake was proving more difficult as he watched the emotions pass through her.

Her eyebrows scrunched together as his hand reached down to hers. An old, dusty sofa in the corner quickly became their seat, barely leaving space between them.

"He is coming personally," he enlightened her gently, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. "He wants it to be done properly, so he is coming after you and your son himself."

Lily stiffened. "Couldn't you-"

"No," he cut her off. "I cannot lose my place with him, Lily. The Order - you - need me where I am stationed."

She moved her head deftly, taking in the whole array of possibilities. "You said that you-"

"He changed his mind, Lily." All of his effort went into sounding casual, but the fear bubbling up in the pit of his stomach was hard to keep from spilling into his words. "I cannot promise..."

"That I will survive," she spoke bravely, accepting her fate should it happen. "I need my son to live, Severus. And I will do my best to protect myself."

There were no more words that could be said. Time would only stand still momentarily. He would be able to do nothing more to protect her, nothing more to ensure his promise was kept. It came down to her capability, to her devotion to life and her family.

Without thought, he leaned into her, softly pressing his thin lips against hers. There was no hesitation, no call to stop. It was needy, passionate, sensual...it could have very well been goodbye. One by one, their articles of clothing were shed until they were bare before each other, taking in life with a whole new light. He let his eyes drift over her body, every curve, every freckle, every scar...etching it in his memory forever.

His lips covered hers again as his hands roamed her body, feeling what could never be felt before now, what may never be felt again. She was shaking, aroused and trembling below him as he took her. When her eyes shut, his hand went to hers and wound their fingers together.

"Please," he begged, breathing becoming ragged with every sensation pumping through him. "Look at me."

*

The night passed by slowly, seconds ticked away and with every tick of the clock, Severus lost a little bit more hope. He could imagine her fighting for her life, for the right to keep her family in tact, for the world. Gryffindor bravery was never a trait he understood, but admired it in Lily. She had changed his views on so many things... love, if absolutely nothing else.

His forearm burned, searing where his Dark Mark was etched into his skin. In the time that it took for him to roll up his sleeve, the mark had dulled down to a light shade of grey. Hope had never been so praised. He let out a dramatic laugh and drug himself from the nook; it was time to celebrate. To Lily's life, to a new start in his own.

Nothing was keeping him from speed aside from himself. He wanted time to think, time to relish in his freedom. The faded skull and snake on his arm was proof enough for him - no more spying, no more holding himself back from what he desired. Lily.

A shining white phoenix shot in front of him, spreading its wings wide, nearly blinding Severus. He watched it with new eyes, seeing beauty in the silver feathers, the majesty of the Patronus before him. Before he could assure the spell that he knew everything was okay, it spoke in a booming, omniscient voice.

"You know that he was defeated. As was she."

Severus stared blankly, numbly, disbelief echoing in his scoff. Lily, defeated along with the Dark Lord. He fell onto his knees, the pavement grinding small stones into his skin. As he took his head into his hands, the phoenix spoke again.

"The boy lives."

And he knew, then, that the only time he would ever see her again would be as a reflection in her son's emerald eyes.

A Taste of the Holidays

2007-10-27T17:54:59Z

Since enrolling in smutty_claus I have been trying my hardest to get a plot worked up - yeah, PWP, I know... but I don't work like that.. I have to have SOME reason for two (or three) characters going at it. One night, I finally went over the prompt about 500 times and decided on my pairing and the scenario. Here is a little taste...

She can sense the tension building, feel his anxiety start to break head. Yet here she is, still looking at him, trying to understand what he wants. He wants her, yes, that much is true; her hand glides silkily along his hardened shaft. He pulls Ginny in closer to him, almost hugging her. Her hand falls from his body.

"I know that we..."

"Shouldn't," she finishes for him.

"I just need..."

"To feel," she finishes for him again.

"Tell me to go away and I will."

Ginny hesitates this time, his stare penetrating her right into her core, stopping all rational thought. "Sirius, I..." she trails off, not able to complete her sentence. She gives him a questioning look, she knows that she shouldn't want this man, she loves Harry. But Harry is busy and pushing her away, too frightened to get close to her. Sirius isn't. He understands her in a way that Harry never can.

Thanks to madmugglemusing, dselena and scribtastic for their help already so far! Yeah, all I needed to know was if it was hot at 1500 words, before I got 3000 words in and wanted to scrap it because it sucked. *HUGS* Thank you girls!!!

One Sock

2007-09-10T21:13:59Z

While trying to get my creative juices flowing, I turned to a good friend:

pronunciationh1 She provided me with a prompt: Sock Puppet (which came from a lengthy conversation about sock puppets and her putrid smell from lack of fabric softener) and Remus and Severus post Deathly Hallows.

And, still, it's not sexy at all... but, beware...it's a tad twisted. =P

Lights from all around shone mercilessly into his beetle black eyes. Severus Snape had been dead for a total of nineteen years and this was how he had to be greeted every morning? Was this his damnation for the life he had chose to live? Try to appeal to the greater good and wind up a sockpuppet for a wizard he loathed?

"Good morning, sunshine." Remus smiled and lifted Severus from the sock drawer, taking care to pinch the top of his twisty tubes. Even in his death and reincarnation, Severus was a greasy git. "I believe it's time for the wash, Severus. The fabric softener smell is wearing off."

What Severus wouldn't give to make some nasty retort. But his afterlife was reduced to that of a puppet. And his Master only allowed him to speak when his hand was upon him. His googly eyes danced around, and he tried to show the resentment he felt. Nothing was more humiliating than... the wash. His naked, sock body displayed for the world to see... the undead world. Those who haunted his after life.

"We'll have an extra spin cycle today, mate." Remus sauntered to the open wash and tossed Severus in, ignoring the way his paper machet mouth crumbled into a grimace. "And, Tonks bought some new linen fresh detergent with matching softener. Sparkly clean, Severus. Always clean for our little games."

The lid was closed and the water began to pour in. Severus had long forgotten what breathing felt like, however the feel of the soap mixing with the glue holding his eyes in place was burning and highly irritating. He could feel them turn red, though on the outside his little puppet exterior just swivelled in the wash, waiting for the water and soap to be emptied. Grey. He was grey. The Gods had truly damned him and his horrid life. Severus' paper lips shrunk into his face, his twisty tube hair fell over his big, bouncy black eyes. The water lowered and his open-ended body found solace on the holey ceramic floor. Now he had to wait. It was time... for the dryer.

No matter how often he heard the loud ding of completion, it still jolted his mind. He knew what was coming... the high heat, energy saving, spinning and lint of the tumble-dryer. Light greeted him for the second time that morning as Remus opened the washer, same, horrible smile plastered across his lips.

"Oh no," Remus assured him happily, reaching down to grab Severus by his side, revelling in his limp sock-body. "No dryer for you today. Tonks is feeling, well, it's best not to push her today."

The only way he could roll his eyes was if Remus would move him a little too quickly, up and down. And still, it wouldn't show his utter annoyance at his new destiny - his forever. He hung loosely in Remus's fingers, his eyes now directed at the walls he was passing by. It wasn't until they made a sharp left that he realized they were to the bedroom. And then his eyes caught something sinful. A tease. Every. Bloody. Day.

Tonks was laying naked on her bed. Naked, bar one sock.

Remus/Tonks

2007-09-05T03:16:04Z

As he walked the high road to the flat he had neglected to visit in weeks, Remus couldn’t help but think of how much he missed his lover. She had been everything to him, his rock when everything seemed to fall apart around him. He loved her so much and part of him couldn’t wait to express just how deep that feeling flowed. Tonks wasn’t expecting him home for another day or two, so the element of surprise was on his side.

A smile formed on his face as he thought of how beautiful a sight he was going to see when he finally reached his home. His key clicked the lock on the door and he crept in quietly, not wanting to alert her to his presence. Slinking down the hall, he started unbuttoning his shabby overcoat, tossing it nonchalantly to the floor.

He pushed the door to his bedroom open slowly and watched her sleeping form, admiration written in the depths of his dark eyes. As her chest rose and fell, his eyes focused on the breasts that were almost peeking out from the top of her nightgown.

Very quietly he walked to the bed and when he finally kneeled on the mattress, Tonks stirred slightly. He reached his finger out to her jaw line, tracing down her succulent neck, to her shoulder, down her arm, trailing goose bumps along the way, and finally entwined his fingers with hers. Bringing her hand up to his lips, he kissed her fair flesh sensually, causing Tonks to snap from her sleep.

Remus slid her tired hand from his lips and glided it down to where his buttons resided on his robes. Her nimble fingers worked his buttons as she sat up opposite of him; with each loose button, her mouth suckled the newly exposed flesh. She pushed his robes from his shoulders, exposing his strong chest and collar bone, to which she made her way back up and began devouring the smooth skin in front of her.

Remus’ hands went through her midnight blue hair, pulling out the barrette she had placed in before going to sleep; it gave her hair an untamable, animal look. When she looked up into his eyes, the fiery passion was palpable, causing both to shiver in delight.

He let his hands wonder down to the hem of her gown, pulling it over her head, revealing a delectable desert for him to consume. His hands slithered up her petite sides, first rounding her hips and then up to her breasts. Tonks worked her hands down Remus’ back to the band of his trousers, as he maneuvered his mouth down to her breast, his hot breath causing her to tremble.

"Remus," Tonks moaned before unsnapping his trousers and allowing them to fall down to his bent knees.

He kicked them off with ease and his hands worked their way down to her hips, grasping and lifting her up, pulling her to him. Her legs wrapped around him loosely and she held on around his shoulders as Remus let his hands leave her hips, finally, and slide up and down her back.

Short breaths escaped Tonks’ throat as she felt the heat rise. She attached her steaming mouth to Remus’ neck, rubbing her tongue in circles on his sensitive flesh. Remus allowed them to fall onto the bed, breathlessly anticipating one another.

Tonks’ porcelain fingers tangled in Remus’ messy hair, urging him forward, almost like she couldn’t get him close enough, demanding to be one with him.

A carnivorous growl escaped Remus’ throat as he took her. More passionately than ever before. Her little whispers of thrill drove him on, beckoning the fire within him. He could feel her every fiber, as if their lovemaking was palpable around them.

His rough and calloused fingers glided sensually down her sides sending stimulating quivers through her feverish body. Crashing her lips onto his, she gave him her all; every loving sensation she could muster in her heart was pouring into that kiss. Their tongues danced sinfully around one another, toying, playing and teasing with passion. Synchronizing their movements, clinging to each other amidst the hungry callings and tremors of pleasure.

It had been ages since they had been in the company of one another and even longer since they had made love. With Remus fighting the underground war against the werewolves and Tonks' position as spy within the Auror Department, it was hard to find any time to hold a conversation, let alone each other. She missed the times that she and Remus would stay up late talking about politics, school, their friends and life. They always got on well and things never looked more positive for the couple. Until the days after Harry Potter had defeated Lord Voldemort.

While everyone was celebrating the downfall of the darkest wizard to ever reside in the Wizarding World, a new war was rising; a season of change was upon them all. The Order reconvened not even a month after Voldemort's downfall with word that Fenrir Greyback and his twisted cronies were plotting the rise of the next dark wizard in which they could follow and be provided fresh meat. It was more personal this time for Remus, there was a past that needed to be cleansed and forgotten. Here they were tonight, six months into the fight against the creatures that Remus had tried so hard throughout his life to disassociate himself from.

Remus enfolded Tonks in his arms, her cyan hair sweeping across his chest as she pulled herself even closer to his body. She looked up into his dusty brown eyes. There he held so much compassion and love, but the fire and the animosity never truly left. She could feel it in his pulse, in his aura and in his heart. Her thin fingers traced small designs on his bare chest. Not only was it calming for her, but she could feel him slipping into a more peaceful state.

His hands caressed her arms, bringing goose bumps to the top of her skin. His touches were always consequential; he always turned her on. Tonks propped herself up on her elbow and watched as his heavy eyelids fought to stay open.

As they laid wrapped up in one another, out of breath and blood boiling, the silence that trickled into the room was terrifying. The hardest thing about living as a spy was that you never knew how long it would be before you could see each other, or even if the other would make it home alive. Though both of them had these thoughts flowing freely though their minds, neither of them ever spoke their worries and they never shared their final kisses, because promises proved that they would be reunited over and over again.

Remus sighed and pulled Tonks even closer. His heartbeat was in his throat, his veins pumped with warm blood making him more aware of the worry that was creating tidal waves in his mind. He looked down at her, the cyan hair had long since changed back to its usual bubblegum pink and when her eyes met his, they were no longer vibrant purple, but lavender and very becoming. As he watched her watching him, his thoughts traveled back to a time when he saw her metamorphasise almost daily. And it was then that he realized he had no idea what lie behind his punky, colorful lover.

"Nymphadora," he breathed throatily, "I love you."

"I love you," she answered in a small sigh. Her fingers had resumed their previous ministrations, stroking his chest and making patterns with her nails.

"Marry me," he requested. In all normal situations, he would have asked properly, with millions of witnesses, himself down on one knee and holding her hand gently. Now, in these times once again, was different. There was no sincere question, instead it was a request, almost an order. He was afraid of either one of them ever letting go.

"Name the day, love," Tonks answered, her eyes watching his chest rise and fall in a perfect rhythm. She looked up at him for an answer.

"Today, tomorrow, next month. I want you forever." He stroked curls of hair from her face and placed them behind her ear.

Tonks smiled softly, her eyes changing from lavender to pale blue. "You already have me forever, Remus. A handfasting won't change that, it will only make our vows solid with the law."

A sad smile pulled at Remus' lips. "I'm getting older-"

"No," she interrupted him. "You can't talk like that. Don't tell me that you want to marry me because-"

He took his index finger and pressed it firmly against her lips, quieting her outburst. His digit traced the outline of her lips as he spoke from his heart. "I'm not much youthful these days and being in the underground with Fenrir's pack has been taking its toll on my health. I just want to know that I have you, heart, body and soul, until the day I die. And, yes, part of it is so you are taken care of when I go."

"You're speaking like you know it's coming, Remus," Tonks said with fear. She sat up on the bed, now looking down at Remus, his eyes sorrowful and apologetic. "You don't know when it's your time! You could live to be unnaturally old!"

Remus chuckled lightly at this and sat up so that he was parallel to his lover. "I admit that I don't know when I'm going to die. But just in case-"

"What if I die before you?" she countered with a quirked eyebrow. Her hair was steadily turning a darker, more morbid shade of red.

His hand went to the nape of her neck and pulled her forcefully upon his lips. As they were cascading down her neck, he voiced in passion, "Not going to happen."

Tonks wrapped her arms around his neck, falling into the moment Remus had created, before shoving him backward and eying him suspiciously. "Why did you bring this up? What's going on?" When he didn't answer, Tonks persisted in an aggravated tone. "They've given you a new assignment already, haven't they? Well, what is it? What more do they want from you?"

Remus sighed and ran a tired hand through his messy russet locks. "Minerva pulled me aside at last night's meeting." His eyes darted around the room, trying to fixate on anything but the blazing woman before him. "There was another attack on an innocent child."

"Get to the point, Remus," Tonks ordered shortly.

"The Ministry has ordered Fenrir to be killed. Harry left on that assignment last night," he continued in a low tone. "I...I can't let him succumb to...this." Remus pointed at himself, his eyes angry and his body worn out from years worth of transformations. "Minerva informed me last night of the Minister's decision and we both agreed that it would be best for me to take care of Greyback myself."

Absolute silence. Tonks was subconsciously holding her breath and staring at Remus, her bright yellow eyes wide and fearful. Her body began trembling as the worry took over, forcing her to think and feel her worst nightmares. To lose Remus would be to lose love and to lose love would be to lose herself. He couldn't go, couldn't leave her, couldn't abandon what they had coddled into a mature, loving and passionate relationship. Their hearts were entwined now, and she couldn't bear the thought of losing him to something that should have ended long before now.

When she finally found her voice, she ground out, "When will you leave?" A lone tear graced her pink tinged cheek. She wiped it back into her squash colored hair and tried to put on a strong facade which failed miserably in Remus' eyes.

His hand reached out to cup her cheek and his almond eyes softened sadly. "Tonight," he whispered.

Remus watched the changes her body went through; her yellow hair changed drastically to ash brown, her eyes metamorphed into small dark brown orbs and her face had shaped into a round frame. At this moment, he wished himself blind. This was what she changed herself into when she was depressed. Though at times she would do it for fun to get her way, this time, there was no sparkle behind those coffee eyes, just pain.

"When will you get back?" she intoned.

"If things go as planned, I should be home to you tomorrow," he said with false hope.

Quickly picking up on what he had hinted, Tonks' throat felt like cotton. "And...if they don't go as planned?"

Remus dropped his hand from her cheek and looked away. "That is up to fate, love," he mumbled inaudibly. "We have right now," he continued more positively, trying not to focus on the fact that he would be leaving her in a few short hours.

Tonks forced a smile on her face and smeared her tears around her face. She wouldn't spend what could possibly be the last night of her lover's life moping that he was leaving her once again. But, she also wanted to make it special. She leaned into him, her breasts resting firmly against his chest.

In his ear she whispered seductively, "What is your wish, love? If you could have one thing, what would it be?"

Instead of answering immediately, Remus took his time, his hands exploring Tonks' shape, his fingers running gently along her silky skin, up to her hair, twirling it around his fingers. With all of the wishes he could make, all of the things he could have, do or see, there was one thing on his mind that he always wondered. His eyes locked with hers again, those cool blue orbs staring back at him with total trust and genuine love.

"Show me who you are," he requested quietly, a fiery passion boiling his blood. "Let me see what you look like," his lips traced her neck, nibbling up to her earlobe. "Without the magic."

Tonks pulled away from Remus' touches and stood from their bed, sky clad. Before his eyes, she transformed into a sight he never thought he would see in his life. Standing in front of him was not the girl he had fallen in love with, but a woman he would love for all of his days, no matter how soon his life would end.

From head to toe she changed one feature at a time; he scarlet hair become a pale shade of blond, her eyes were a brilliant shade of hazel, captivating and enthralling.

She filled out in her face, creating a heart shape that her newly feathered blond hair flowed around. Her weight hadn't changed much, but Remus could see the slight inch of curves she had gained, while her breasts became smaller. His lover, typically the most extreme looking woman he knew, was gorgeous even without the magic abilities of changing appearance.

Her pale skin meshed beautifully with her pink, full lips. And a little birthmark on her cheek started becoming visible. Remus noticed a scar forming on her neck, its peach color running the length of her shoulder, stopping abruptly at her elbow. Sporadic, dark freckles were present on her arms, in the most random of places. There were pink gashes, healed wounds, around her stomach, her thighs and her calves. Her skin wasn't perfect or porcelain but even with the marks of the past, she was amazing and breathtaking.

He only gave her a second's glance more before he grabbed her hand and pulled her on top of him, his hands traveling over this uncharted territory. And, without another thought of what could become of their lives in the coming hours, they made love; love that wasn't blinded by any falsehoods, love that was pure and absolute. Whether tomorrow came or was lost in time, what mattered the most was how they held each other, loved each other and were willing to give each other anything the other desired, even if it meant facing a fear that had been hidden for years.

A post-war look at the lives of Remus and Tonks. When the time they spend together is limited, how do they choose to spend it? (Rated: Mature)