All things Harry Potter belong to J. K. Rowling.

My Love.

As I walk along the dimly lit tunnel, I know it is too late. There is no turning back, even if I wanted to. I know to turn back now would be impossible. Not knowing what the next few days would bring, not knowing if we would survive the battle that lay ahead of us. An atmosphere of uncertainty flows through every action, through every thought, there in every waking moment.

I had left early, leaving the boys sleeping in their camp beds. The overwhelming need to see him over riding me, driving me down this route. I had found the entrance with no trouble, meticulously following to the letter the intricate instructions he had given me months ago.

I had tried to stay away, I really had but I had weakened at the last minute. If this was my last chance to see him, I do not care how reckless it is. I do not care how much I am jeopardising.

I reach the end of the tunnel and I push the heavy door open. I feel the familiar tingle of magic as I pass through his wards. I have never been in his quarters before, I had never been invited until now. I look around the dimly lit room, bookcases line the walls. An ornate wooden desk, piled with parchments stands to one side of a large fireplace. At the other side an old leather chair, sitting on the table beside it a half empty bottle of fire whiskey and an empty glass.

I enter his bed chamber, a large wooden four poster dominates the middle of the room. Heavy green drapes surround the frame, pooling on the floor around it. A pair of black pyjama trousers lay discarded on the top of the unmade bed. The sound of running water is coming from the bathroom and I make my way over to it. The shower cubicle is full of steam and the glass walls are foggy with condensation. I can make out the vague outline of his body as he stands motionless under the running water.

I quickly and quietly undress, leaving my clothes in an untidy heap on the floor. Gently I open the door, it slides smoothly and I step inside.

I know he knows I'm here. A man such as Severus would have put some sort of signal for if I crossed his wards. His stance never changes, his body never flinches, there is no outward sign that he knows I am here.

His hands are resting on the wall either side of the shower, his head bent under the falling water. His black hair hangs down, obscuring my view of his face.

I feel my eyes begin to sting with tears as I look at his back. His pale skin is criss crossed by countless scars. How he must have suffered at the hands of the dark lord.

I take a step toward him and put my arms around him, pressing my naked body against his. He lifts his head from the water and stands straight, his hands leave the wall and cover mine.

"You came!" he whispers as he leans back onto me.

"Shhh!" I reply. I begin to place small kisses along his back. I kiss each scar, trying to mark them with love.

My hands glide over his wet chest and I relish the feel of his warm skin under my touch. My fingertips run over his nipples and he takes a ragged breath as I run each finger over the stiffened tips.

Hesitantly I let my hands travel down over his flat stomach, I wish I was more confident in what I was doing. I had slept with Victor, allowed him to take my virginity. How I wish things were different and I could give that gift to Severus.

I wrap my hand around his length and slowly begin to stroke up and down in a steady rhythm. Each time I reach the top I rub my thumb across the head. I can hear his breathing quicken as I gradually speed up my ministrations.

Suddenly his hand is on mine, stopping my movements. For a second I wonder what is wrong. Was I so bad he had to stop me?

He turns to face me, pushing me against the wall. He takes my mouth with a desperate passion. I open my mouth allowing him the access that we both need. The intensity of his kiss consumes me, nothing else matters now. He is my world and I am his.

I wrap my arms around his neck, tangling my fingers in his wet hair. His hands travel down my body and cup my buttocks, I feel him lift me, and so I raise my legs and wrap them around his waist, allowing his hips to take my weight.

I can scarcely breathe as he enters me, the smooth tiled wall drags against my skin as he pushes up inside me. Gravity pushes me down and I feel him deep inside of me, stretching and filling me. I dig my fingers in to his shoulders as he thrusts into me, pressing me hard against the tiles.

My heart is pounding in my chest as he speeds up, causing tiny waves of pleasure to start flowing through my body. I feel the pressure building I know I can't hold on much longer. He drags his lips away, resting his cheek next to mine. His breathing quickens as he thrusts up inside me, a small grunt escapes his mouth. I can't take anymore, my walls clench around him as I near my climax.

His thrusts become erratic and he lets out a long, deep moan. The sound of him coming apart tips me over the edge. Wave after wave of exquisite sensations take over my body, flowing through me until I reach the apex.

I tighten my grip around his neck, my anchor in this world of sensation. Struggling to control the tremors that are involuntarily making our bodies tremble against each other as we stand still joined together.

He slowly withdraws from me, I feel bereft at the loss of him inside me. I uncurl my legs and lower them to the wet floor. Stretching up I kiss him, a kiss so different from the passion filled ones we just shared. A gentle kiss full of tenderness, I try to let him know through it how much love I have for him. I never want to let go but I know that time is running out. I tear myself away and step out of the shower before he has chance to hold me.

Keeping my back to him I hurriedly dry my body and put on my clothes. I know that he is watching me but I dare not turn around. To look at him now would be my undoing. I am not strong enough to speak soft words of love to him or for him to tell me he loves me too. I would never be able to leave his side if I had to hear any of that and I know that I must go.

I head for the door, "don't look back." my head is repeating over and over. A single word stops me in my tracks. A single word spoken quietly, reverently.

"Hermione!" his voice deep and low, tears through my heart.

I run for the tunnel, each step driving me further and further from him. The cold air seeps through my damp clothes, penetrating my bones. I keep running, the voice in my head keeps repeating "Harry needs you. Ron needs you." It is the only thing stopping me from returning to his arms.

I emerge from the tunnel, I squint as the bright sunlight hurts my eyes. I fall to my knees, the soft grass cushioning me. My body is hitches as I desperately try to catch my breath. I feel the dampness on my cheeks of the tears that I did not even realise were falling.

Rising from my knees I wipe my sweater across my face and take a deep breath. I push the memory of the moments we have just shared away. I lock it within my heart, only for me. I hope it will give me strength in the final battle, my personal standard guiding me through.

If we both survive perhaps we will be together but for now I have to put the needs of others before mine.

It has to be enough for now that I have the one moment in my life where I was utterly complete. The one moment when he was my world and I was his, we were all that mattered.


My Professor. My Friend. My Soul mate. My Love.