XXXIII

"What am I getting myself into?" Lily thought as she fiddled with bottom of her seat. "It's not bad, though. Not bad at all. But he has to be so damn mysterious all the time." She looked over to him, his eyes on the road, and his face caught in a single submissive expression. "I wish I knew what was going on in his mind…" Little did she know that Severus had been thinking the very same thing about her.

He kept one eye on the road, whilst using the other to observe his stunning companion. He couldn't help, but notice as she stared wearily at the road, and then, every few moments, there would be an amorous spark in her emerald eyes, because she would notice him looking at her.

The green and yellow long grass was bent toward the North, for the wind had been savagely blowing against it. The road was composed of loose soil, umber in color, and filled nearly unnoticeable calico-colored pebbles and gnats were swarming above it, in search of rotting food or animal feces to inhibit. The car's tires crushed everything beneath them, tire tracks trailed behind them. The people within the car did not know that kilometers behind them was a blonde haired man driving a carmine Ferrari at a speed much higher than the speed limit had permitted. Furthermore, they did not know that he was taking careful notice of the tire tracks imprinted in the road.

A miniature, blood orange-colored fox scampered across the road, nearly crushed by the tires of Severus' car, but Severus hadn't allowed it to die so recklessly. Lily gasped in shock when she saw the fox. In an instant, Severus took his hand off of the stick and put it on Lily's lap, and patted it lightly. For the next fifteen minutes, Severus did not take his hand off of her thigh. But in those fifteen minutes, he had lightly rubbed her thigh, edging close and closer to her hip. Lily found that tears had begun to fall from her golden eyelashes and prickle her cheeks. She had not the slightest smidgen of an idea of what had come over her. She put her hand on top of his and tightly squeezed it, her heart pounding in her chest, and her stomach filling with butterflies.

"Is everything alright?" He queried, his voice concerned, but his face completely composed.

"No, everything's fine…" She looked down at his hand. Her face became flushed, and her eyes became slightly wider, but most importantly her lips separated slightly; her pink tongue licked her bottom lip in lust. "I would kiss you right now, if I could…" she thought out loud, her face turning even redder.

Without giving much time to debate with himself, Severs stopped the car at the side of the road, and looked over at Lily. "Well, go ahead, we've got to get somewhere before sundown, but I think this is slightly more important." It was then that he had taken his hand off of her thigh; he put the car in park, but he kept the car going, the air conditioner still blowing barely cool air. "American Pie" was playing in the background.

She climbed awkwardly to him. She sat on his lap, her chest against his. She pulled the rusted, iron lever on the side of his seat; the seat reclined at an obtuse angled. Ignoring the fact that Lily was clearly on top of him, he was the one who had kissed her, not the other way around. Mind you, they had always been in an ongoing battle about who would kiss who first, and who would have the last kiss.

His bit her lip, but she was the one to slide her tongue into his mouth. They grabbed each other, like the senseless animals they were. Beads of sweat began to trail down their foreheads, but neither cared. The only time they would part was to take the much needed breaths of air. Severus' hands were tempted to take off her sea-green blouse, or her old pair of blue jeans, whilst Lily's hands were already unbuttoning his shirt. His hands had begun to sneakily crawl up her shirt, touching her soft, perfectly tangible skin. Then, he kissed her down to her jawline, further down her neck and then back up to her ear, which he had all, but saucily nibbled. When his thin lips reached her pulse point, he could feel just how hard her heart had been beating for him. His kissed that spot with fervor; when he had parted from her porcelain neck, a distinct red mark had been left there, tiny bite marks embedded on her perfect skin.

"We shouldn't go any further," he intoned, though wearily and halfheartedly, looking out of the window to see that the barrenness of the land had not changed at all. "I won't be able to stop, if we go any further."

"But what if I don't want you do stop?" she said pouting, her face twisted. (She was adorable when she did that, though Severus would never say that to her face).

"You say that now. I promise; this will not go uncontinued." He cupped her cheek with the palm of his hand. "Soon, okay Lily? Soon, we'll continue this in a more…proper setting."

"Soon means a lot of things, Severus." She huffed as she climbed off of him.

Severus left his shirt unbuttoned. Putting the car in drive, they continued their journey to an unknown land. Clouds began to cover the sun; the skyline darkened, turning into a dark shade of cerulean, and soon oranges and pinks came to dot the sky. A kilometer behind them was the carmine Ferrari, not quite as fast as it had been.

By and by, the scenery went, the land changing from thick forests to farm lands, to lands that could not be described by mere words, for they were far too breathtaking and unfathomable to ever fully comprehend. They entered one of these awing lands again, the bluebirds still chirping in the middle of the night.

There were green, grassy hills, though in the night they appeared to be as black and as enthralling as Severus' eyes were. A misty fog was emitting from the hills, floating ominously. To the West was a lake with precisely three white swans swimming across it, looking at the car passing by. The moon's reflection could be seen in the lake, its waning form grey and welcoming.

Severus rolled the window down, and so did Lily. They breathed the air of the land; it filled them with wholesome contentment. They breathed the scent of fresh baked cinnamon rolls, which had been made over a fire in the middle of the wilderness, but it was not just that, for it was much, much more. In the air was the scent of the droplets of dew in the grass, the union on lovers in the forest, the odor of nature's finest perfume, drifting through the air, all of it forming something exquisite, something unparalleled.

There was a crack in an enormous tree—just big enough to fit a car through. Severus drove through it, and into the forest; white rabbits scurried and the flying squirrels jumped from branch to branch at the sound of the car. Twigs snapped beneath the tires of the car and flew through the open windows, pelting Severus and Lily; both scrambled quickly to close the windows.

When they exited the forest, they entered a more hilly land. On every hill there was a quaint, stone cottage or two, lanterns lighting the purlieu. In front of each cottage was a short, white-stained picket fence. Sleeping outside were various mutts and kneazles—most were on the porches, or lying contentedly beneath a shady, protective tree. Over yonder was a farm, strawberry fields stretched for kilometers, a wondrous, saccharine scent pervading the air.

"Here," Severus uttered, in almost a whisper, his voice without the blankness or edge it usually possessed.

"Really?" Lily inquired elatedly.

"But of course." He looked to her, smirking, his crooked, slightly yellow teeth showing.

In one of the homes, there was a black haired woman playing the guitar, singing some heartfelt tune, her sultry, alto voice reverberating through the hills. You could see her fingers strumming soulfully on the instrument through the opened window. Her voice carried, as she had sung loudly, her blue eyes slowly closing. Hearing the faint melody, Severus rolled the window open just a smidgen, and her voice entered into the car. Lily closed her eyes, leaning back into her seat, just…melting…

And I've broken my back seven times,

Fighting for you,

But there's still strength,

In this worn down body,

I'll keep up this fight,

Because I'll find a way,

To make never into always,

It'll all be a sweet sacrifice for you…

Severus parked at the side of the road, next to a worn down inn. There was a candle in the window, but that was the only lighting at the current time of night. He helped Lily out of the car, taking her hand and guiding her through the thick, veiling dark. In the distance, crickets could be heard, chirping away, hopping from one blade of dewy grass to the other.

The Inn was an old, worn down, rustic building with a floor, possibly two in it. It was composed of red clay bricks, and there was a small chimney on its crepuscular colored rooftop, but it had not puffed a single visible puff of smoke in ages. When the couple reached the white-washed door, the hinges creaked softly, and a bell rang out in a high-pitched, "ding". When the door closed, the sign above it, which had read "Boutbatton Inn", had fallen to the muddy ground. Inside, the maple flooring was covered in a thick layer of dust. The room smelled of porridge and lemon peels. The end wall of the room had an opening, and in it was a staircase, its steps large, and by looking at it, Severus had already felt fatigue devour him. The candle which had shone through the window was placed in a single candelabrum, cobalt in color. The walls facing the North and the East were made of the same bricks that the façade of the inn was, and on the contrary the two other walls were painted a dark shade of burnt orange.

In the lobby, there was a Victorian-inspired runner, wine in color placed right in front of the front desk, where an old, haggard woman stood, her cataract-covered, laurel colored eyes shifting alertly toward the newcomers. In her mouth, tilted toward them, was an ivory pipe, puffs of nicotine floating in the air. The innkeeper was a slightly-hunchbacked, older woman who wore a fawn colored knit-shawl over her black, white polka-dotted dress. Her cheek bones were slightly higher than average, and her lips were pressed into a thin, intimidating line. Her hair was completely grey, but it shone in the dim light, and appeared to be silver.

Indignantly, she put her pipe down and opened her mouth, which revealed saturated-yellow teeth, hanging loosely to her pink, swollen gums. "Well, get your butts over here. I can't wait here all night for you two, to snag a room!" She spoke with a harsh, American accent. Her voice was hoarse—clearly showing the side effects of smoking as many years as she had been.

Muttering in a low whisper, Severus traipsed to the front desk and started filling out paper work, and afterwards saying, "We'll stay here till Sunday. After that you can wait another millennia until some dunderheads attempt to find a room…here," he sneered whilst smirking, his lips curled in a most nefarious, unabashed manner. Something had stirred within him, the very thing causing an afflicting tornado of wickedry, prodding him to points of darkness, which were higher than he had ever felt. How his sheer odium had soared once he bared witness to this woman.

"Why are you acting so terribly?" Lily sighed. She grabbed his arm, and squeezed it tightly.

"It's something you will never comprehend." It was true—Lily could never fully cognize the severity of hatred at first sight, nor the compelling want, nay need to drive a person to their grave, no matter how young or old. It was something which Lily had virtuously avoided. But it was not to say that she was some form of saint or seraph walking upon this iniquitous, blackened world.

Once at the stairs, Severus put his hand on the small of Lily's back. A bolt of electricity-like pleasure ran through her spine. He looked back; the ancient crone still stood there, a smirk on her face. She was staring at them, devising ploys to make their lives a living hell—or at least, the life of Snape.

Their room was on the second floor. The hallway was dimly lit by little bulbs of pale-greenish white magic. The floors were carpeted by thick, palomino colored saxony. Their room was number thirty one—the last room in the inn. Severus shivered when he saw the number. Thirty one had never been a fortunate number for him. His pupils contracted, at the sheer thought of what had happened on the thirty first of both October and July.

Lily had brought him back from his daze once they reached their room. She took the keys from it, and hastily opened it, letting the red alder door slam onto the cool grey plaster walls. Likewise, she let the door slam shut. Severus jumped at the shutting of the door. He would not ask her a question about what had infuriated her, or if it was him.

The room was small; it held a miniscule kitchenette, which had a replenishing food charm upon its cabinets and refrigerator, a twin sized bed, a love seat, and a bathroom. To the side of the bed, there was a sandalwood nightstand, with a silver lamp atop it. Next to the lamp was an empty vase, pleading to be filled with flowers. Aside the entrance door was a closet large enough for several articles of clothing.

Lily walked away from Severus. "You're sleeping on the couch," she growled. Resizing and opening her trunk, she put nicer-looking shirt and a pair of pants, as well as a black pencil skirt into top drawer of the nightstand. "Acting horrid toward an old, blind woman… Bloody wanker—he's acting like a bloody wanker!" Lily huffed under her breath, and she said it without a care if he had overheard her.

Meanwhile, Severus was at the rusted sink, using a cleaning-charm several times on a tea pot that he had found in one of the cabinets. Severus would not stand for anything below his standard of what he deemed to be "clean".

To be crystal clear, Severus had perceived what Lily had rudely snorted beneath her breath. He thought it to be foolish, infernally ludicrous, of course, but he had let it go—he let it go like each passing breath. He had long ago, decades ago, learned how to control his temper around Lily. He did it out of ardor. What else could be his reason?

The tea pot whistled loudly. Severus took the kettle off of the black, magic-powered stove and turned the stove off. In two flowery, indigo tea cups he poured peppermint tea in hopes that it would calm both of their nerves down. Long drives are never good for the mind. They give you far too much time to contemplate about the vices of life. He sweetened the tea a half a packet of sugar in each cup. Both Lily and Severus were not fond of overly sweet tea.

He resized his trunk by the upholstered couch, which was cream in color and had little violet embroidery bedazzling it. He played his part, tricking Lily for the time being. He heard her tip-toe into the bathroom. While she was there, he changed into his night clothing—a black t-shirt and plaid grey and white boxers. His ears perked up when he heard her lie down on the bed.

He grabbed the warm tea and walked over to Lily, who was frowning spitefully. He handed her a cup, which she had reluctantly accepted. Placing his tea cup on the night stand, he slid into bed and retrieved his cup, taking a sweet slip of its mentholated splendor. She drank her tea silently, one eyebrow risen. Once they were done and their tea cups were out of the way, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"I apologize for my indiscretion." He nuzzled her neck, and whispered into her ear, "You're right, I shouldn't hate as much as I do. But at least I love one thing…" he kissed her neck lightly, "I love you." He had a few tricks up his sleeve. He had been saving this one ever since Christmas day—it was at that time that he had come up with a list of ways to get in Lily's favor if he would ever happen to slip out of it. She remained silent. He took this time to get up and brush his teeth. He had to admit to himself: He had gone one too many nights without brushing his teeth in the past.

When he got back into the room, it was then that he had noticed that Lily had been wearing a black, lace nightgown. Had she changed while he was brushing his teeth? He climbed into bed and leaned over her, kissing her full on the lips.

When they parted, she breathed, "You Slytherins—you always have a way to slither yourselves out of the tightest holes."

"And if I couldn't do that, we would have never gotten anywhere in our relationship."

"Mmm….Perhaps."


A red Ferrari drove in the moonlight, driving slower than humanly possible. It was like a lion stalking its prey, waiting for the opportune moment to create its bravura feat. Its engine purred smoothly. Inside was a man, an austere look upon his royal face. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his arms strained, a vein popping out across the Dark Mark in his left forearm. He carefully followed the tracks in the dirt ground.

An owl passed over his head, a letter dropping in the passenger's seat. A wry leer spread across his pallid face. He sped up, knowing that he need not waste any more time devising a plan. He had orders to complete. What a fine way to spend a weekend—away from his simpering wife, away from the idiocy of the Ministry, away from it all, just to do his Lord's biddings. The thought of what was in store for the near future had brought him to wondrous reverie, one of which he did not want to be released from.

He put his silvery mask on. That night was the beginning of something indescribable by human words. He could already smell the metallic scent of blood in the air. He licked his cracked lips. The days to come would be memorable: He would make sure of it.


A/N: I apologize about my lack of updates… I'm struggling with writing. Writer's block, terrible flash drives, the works. I do hope you liked it. I will try to update The Final Plea today. Check out my other FanFics if you haven't, or you think you will get bored by the time I update once more.