J.K Rowling owns all of these characters, not me!


Their silence filled the room. There was nothing more to say. Everything was said, and that was that. They merely stared at each other, mouths slightly open, arms resting at their sides. It was like looking into a mirror, only one was much older and the other much younger. One had to look up, while the other had to look down. Hearts beating, minds whizzing, everything a blur and numb, they strode toward each other, and stopped again. Mere inches between the bodies, it took them a second or two to finally lock into their passionate embrace that they had been thinking over in their minds during the silence. The smaller witch took refuge under the older witches chin, her head burrowed inside the velvety robes and finally came to rest on her bosom. To hear her heart beat was inexplicably elating. The elder witch held her steady and sure, her veins alive and cells dancing at the predicament they seemed to have gotten themselves into. She began to run her chin and cheek across the hair of the younger, her lids drooping hiding half of the green orbs that sat behind them all these years. The younger rubbed her hand on the small of the elders back.

"Professor, I..."

"Shhh... Minerva dear."

"Minerva. I... can we go to your bedroom, and lay on your bed? Just for a while?"

They stared into each others eyes: Fear. They held hands, both warm and clammy with nerves, to give each other strength and made their way through the elders sitting room into her bed chamber. She'd always kept the room warm, with royal red velvet upholstery and dark green curtains. The younger witch kicked off her shoes and crawled onto the bed, the elder hesitating for a moment. She looked at the teenager before her; a mere 19 year old girl.

"Come here to me, please Minerva?"

She slowly untied her laces to her boots and too placed herself on the bed next to the body of the youngest witch. They lay for a while, staring up at the cream ceiling. Both knowing what they wanted, and so close to giving in, but the restraints that had been bound to them both since birth were fighting their battle well. It seemed forever they fought with their heads, trying desperately to push it aside and listen to their hearts.

A foot touched and rubbed the other, a hand touching and wrapping around another, a sidle closer to the body opposite, one nose to the next, the free hand running fingers through the others hair, cheek upon cheek, hand upon hip. Exploring their loves being and body. This was everything; the one thing to hold onto, the only thing to call real. Seeing, hearing, feeling, touching the other. Skin on skin, a faint moan and muffled curse, into the pillow the lolling head goes, pushing and pulling and writhing. Uncomfortable, yet so comfortable, wrong but so right. A gasp from both of arousal, of every nerve ending pulsating to the very tips and out of their skin, of every brain cell lapping up all before it, of the heart muscle pounding so hard against the rib cage it hurt, pushing blood to rush through the readily open veins. It was all, the world revolved around this; nothing else was in, or out, or thought of.

Rhythmic motions, eyes closed and muscles tensing. A harsh knock came at the door, but two carried on, not a falter in their stride. The neck bare, a lip lightly falls upon it.

Another harsh knock. This time, the elder opened her eyes, placing a hand to the younger witches arm. The youth carries on in her explorations of the elder, causing the greying witch to return her attentions to the girl.

This time, a desperate knock, never ending. Both sit up, the elder leaving the bed to pursue the persistent knocking.

"Minerva, it's Albus. He's been found dead..."

The nurse is tearful, inconsolable. The elder stands shocked, as does the youngest.

"I must leave." The eldest witch instructs the youngest, leaving with a swish of her robe. She knew that They would never be the same again.

A/N: Hope you liked