Jehane Desrosiers

Chapter 8 -- Severus

When Wednesday arrived, weather did permit. But it was as if the events of the previous week had not occurred. He barely spoke to me at all, as we started out walking fast and went faster. He chose all the turnings without hesitation and took the lead to the pine grove, striding just ahead of me.

“Severus,” I panted. “Could you please slow down? I thought this was a pleasure jaunt, not a race walk.”

“Forgive me.” He forced himself to a halt, then resumed, emanating impatient restraint. There was something on his mind that needed to be accomplished in the grove.

The heat of the afternoon had released the rich scent of the pines, and the needles on the ground cushioned our steps. Inside, the grove was hushed except for the susurration of the upper boughs. As we crossed, the sun flashed between the trunks. He turned his back on me before he spoke.

“Do you know what I am?” His voice was tight.

I understood immediately.

“I know what you were,” I answered.

“I still am.”

“What?” I asked. “Say it.”

“I am a former Death Eater. People died at my hands, or died because of my actions.”

“You are more than that. And you fought him.”

“Nothing can erase what I did before.”

“You fought him, Severus. You risked your life over and over. You were instrumental in Voldemort’s defeat, and you have the Order of Merlin to prove it.”

“It doesn’t outweigh my – crimes.”

I walked around and stood facing him.

“Listen,” I said. “If you’ve really laid waste all around, as you say, then don’t do it to yourself as well.

“I know a little bit about guilt, so let me tell you. My husband – Guy –“ And here a few tears caught in my voice so I stopped, drew a deep breath, then hurried on. “ – and I rehabilitated hippogriffs. You know we wrote Hippogriff Whispering. He was more practical than me. Some of them, he said, were too psychologically damaged to rehabilitate, too dangerous.

“One year we had to put two of them down in two months. It was very hard for me. So when we got this beautiful black griff named Castor, I begged him. I begged him to try longer, even though Castor wouldn’t feed, wouldn’t bow, wouldn’t look us in the eye. We were making no progress with him and he was just as aggressive as when they brought him in.

“Guy wanted to put him down, but I pleaded for his life. One night Castor tore my finger when I tried to feed him. I didn’t tell Guy, because I was afraid of being pressured.

“The next morning, Castor ripped out his throat.

“So please don’t tell me about killing people. At least you didn’t kill anyone you loved. Don’t tell me how hard it is to go on after that.”

There was a silence as I struggled not to cry. I knew I must look like a crumpled red handkerchief. I walked away for a few minutes.

“I loved my husband,” I said, keeping my back to him. “He was – my whole family, and my future. And I – let him be killed – I stole his life from him – because I was sentimental about an animal.”

I waited a moment and when I had mastered myself I looked over my shoulder. He had that that unarranged look again.

“I’m – sorry,” he said. “Truly, I didn’t know. I remember the story in the papers. I don’t know why I didn’t make the connection.”

“Do you see? This isn’t about your guilt, or about being a Death Eater or a murderer. You’re afraid to give yourself to me. You would be just the same if you hadn’t done those things.”

A pause. “Yes.”

“We’re broken, Severus. We’re ruined. Both of us. So please don’t keep away from me. Please.”

“I don’t want to.”

He stepped close to me now. He opened his mouth to speak, and I heard the faint click of his lips parting, but he hesitated. A look of pain crossed his face. He seemed at a loss. Then, very low, he said – “May I kiss you?”

I nodded.

As he leaned forward, I smelled the faint tang of his skin, and the ends of his hair brushed my cheek before he touched his lips to mine. We stood breathing each other in, as if unable to imagine that there could be more than this moment of our lips barely touching, our trembling hands meeting in the air, our soft guttural noise of tenderness. Then he gently opened my lips with his own and pulled me to him.

That kiss seemed to go on forever. We were new people, just made for each other in a freshly washed world. Our mouths, our fingers twining in each other’s hair, our bodies pressed together spoke richer promises than we could put in words. And when we were done, we hung around each other’s necks, stealing more kisses, and found ourselves laughing.

Now that he had once come to the stable, Severus appeared there several times a week. He seemed to know my schedule perfectly, and, strangely, my unscheduled activities as well, for he never appeared when I wasn’t free to see him. I would look up from the end of a lesson to find him at the fence, glowering; he was ridiculously proud and felt at a disadvantage. The best cure was to bring him into the stable and, if no one else was around, back him against a wall and kiss him thoroughly.

We had a new hippogriff that spring, a young brown female named Cadbury. I hoped to work with her over the summer and have her ready for fall, since I expected a larger group of students come September. I was finishing up a session with her one day when he appeared.

“Hey,” I said. “Look how well she’s doing.” And I sent her into the air with a gesture and a whistle. The griffs were allowed to go anywhere in the air -- except over the Forbidden Forest and close to the castle -- as long as they came to ground by their trainer. She flew to the edge of the forest, then I whistled her down. After an elegant landing, she offered her head for a scratch.

Something was troubling him.

“You won’t tame me,” said Severus coldly. “I hope that’s not in your plans.”

It was preposterous and unexpected. I took a moment to marshal my thoughts.

“Is that what you think I’m doing here? With her or with you?”

“It’s a hard parallel to ignore,” he said flatly.

“Have you heard anything I’ve told you about Unroped hippogriff training?” I said. “There’s no force.”

“Yet they take orders from you,” he said. I wanted to argue but guessed it would be futile.

“They enjoy our work together. It’s an ancient relationship,” I said. “Look.” I rubbed my cheek against Cadbury’s beak, stroking her feathered head. “She could tear my face open right now. She could hold me down with her talons and disembowel me like a rabbit. She won’t, though. I trust her.”

“She won’t hurt you because you’ve tamed her. You’ve fed her from your hand and played with her and kept her company. She can’t hurt you even if she wants to.”

I had been angry, but that was gone; I saw so clearly what he was struggling with. I left the hippogriff and came to Severus, sitting on the fence. It was best just to listen and understand.

“So you’re saying that I’ve – weakened her. By giving her – by -- filling her needs. I’ve seduced her. And now she’s captive. I’ve done it by love.”

Yes,” he said, looking at the ground, and his mouth turned down bitterly.

“And – if I love her also? And can’t hurt her, even if I want to?”

“If you found that she was dangerous, you would put her down, like you did Castor.”

I slid off the fence and leaned there, legs on either side of him, waiting until he raised his eyes to mine.

“I know what she is,” I said.

In June, we went out nearly every day. A few students stayed at school but Severus seemed less concerned about discretion; sometimes we walked into Hogsmeade to shop or to have (for him) enormous lunches. Various staff members went off on holiday but cycled in and out, spending a good part of the summer at Hogwarts as well, researching or preparing for the upcoming year. Casual, family-like meals were taken in the Great Hall at a single table, staff and students together.

Tilda Squires, a Hufflepuff and a promising rider, was one of the remaining students. She had gotten permission from her parents to stay on because she couldn’t bear to be away from the hippogriffs. Having her there to teach, and frankly, to take on some of the animal care, was a relief and a pleasure. She was always around the stables or Hagrid’s hut, and her unquestioning acceptance of Severus’ relationship with me went a little way toward relaxing him about being observed.

The staff, however, were a different matter. Not that they were disapproving – just the opposite. They were so terribly delighted that they could barely keep to themselves. At meals, McGonagall kept catching my eye to give me incredulous smiles, and Dumbledore went so far as to “accidentally” meet us on the road from Hogsmeade so he could greet us and shake our hands. It was a bit unnerving and made Severus surly. On his stops at the paddock fence, Remus now inquired after Severus, and once, finding him there, actually clapped him on the back. I waited for some kind of explosion, but Severus merely moved away and gave him a black look.

The first of July dawned with a light drizzle that grew into a soaking downpour. We had planned to walk out on the moors in the afternoon. I was in the stables mucking out stalls and talking to the hippogriffs in my shorts and wellies, my hair tied back in a series of elastics that left it looking like a row of bludgers. In weather like this my head was surrounded by a cloud of stray pink hairs standing on end and nothing magical or practical could control them. I kept wiping them back from my sweaty face with my forearm; it wasn’t hot out, but so humid that everything was damp.

Something darkened the doorway and Severus stepped through. He had used a Moisture-Repelling spell and his clothes were crisp and unwrinkled. He looked about suspiciously for a moment, making sure we were alone, then crossed the barn in two long strides and looked sternly at me.

“Hello,” I said. I had gotten used to what I thought of as the Thresholds whenever we met, a series of hesitations and bumps as we came together. Each of us contributed to getting over them, and differently each time. This time, he took my shoulders in his hands, pulled me forward, and kissed me forcefully. His long tongue in my mouth tasted faintly of coffee and I ran my fingers up into his hair to pull him closer. We kissed for several minutes until he gave a start and broke away; Serrebrune was grooming his hair with her beak.

“Oh, you just got your membership card,” I laughed. “Now you’re a part of the club.” He gave a theatrical shiver and looked sideways at Serrebrune.

“I’m not sure I want membership.”

“You ought to ride. You’d be good at it.”

“I prefer a broomstick,” he said.

“They’re not equivalents,” I said. “But think about it.”

“No, I don’t think so,” he said. “What about a hike? We could go out under a Repelling spell.”

“It’s not the same somehow. I’m sure yours is very good, but those things always make me feel as if I’m in a bubble. The rain doesn’t come in but the air doesn’t either.” He looked disappointed.

So far, our affair had been conducted almost entirely outside, in part because the weather had been wonderfully mild, and in part, I suspected, because both of us had been too shy to drag it over the castle threshold. This was the ideal time to do so. I picked up a brush and busied myself with Filleambre’s coat.

“Why don’t you come to my rooms instead?” I hoped the shadowy interior of the barn would hide my blush. I peeked at him. He looked a bit embarrassed but pleased.

“I’d be delighted. I have a very nice bottle of twelve year old Firewhiskey; shall I bring that along for the cocktail hour?”

Oh, good, the cocktail hour. He was planning to stay a while. “Absolutely,” I answered.

“Until then.” He gave a little bow and a smirk and was gone with a swirl of his robes.

I was somewhat torn, after my bath, about whether to make a special effort with myself. Finally I decided it would make me more nervous to be dressed up, so I settled for some serious hair spells which worked part way, so that my hair laid down instead of up and I was able to leave it loose. I wore jeans and a more-becoming-than-usual green flowered shirt, and left it at that.

Severus arrived at the crack of 2:00, impeccably dressed and freshly shaved. He smelled of some mysterious smoky cologne that spoke of midnight wood fires and the ferny undergrowth of the forest. Silk cuffs peeked from the sleeves of his coat. At the door he handed me the whiskey and we stood on either side of the entrance, staring at each other.

“If we don’t move on with this, I’m going to be sick with nerves,” I said.

“Very romantic,” he answered, but he stepped inside and as soon as we laid hands on each other it was all right. We stood kissing and nuzzling each other for some time, then broke apart with a gasp. Somehow the day’s agenda had become mutually implicit.

He strode to the mantelpiece. There was a picture of Guy there. I had considered taking it down, but decided against; he was a fact of my life and Severus might as well get used to him, but I wished, as I watched, that Guy did not look quite so terribly handsome in the picture as he did. He smiled affectionately out of the frame and tossed his hair out of his eyes.

“This is your husband,” Severus remarked dryly.

“Yes, that’s Guy,” I said. “That was taken when we did the book jacket photos.”

“He’s very handsome.”

“Yes,” I said. “He was very kind and smart as well. And I would love to have some of this whiskey with you. Will you?” Severus was positively radiating dark discontent which I recognized as jealousy.

“Yes,” he answered. It seemed unfortunate that we had to start with Guy, and I wondered again if I should have put the picture away.

“Just a tick,” I said, and went into my bedroom to find my drinks glasses. They were not where I expected and I took some time digging in the closet. As I returned I heard Severus murmuring. I stopped in the door for a moment and then I heard it, Guy’s encouraging voice – “Go ahead, man.” – and I had to step back into the darkened room to compose myself.

When I came in with the glasses, Severus was uncorking the bottle by the window and looking more cheerful.

“Have you had Old Boggart? It’s quite good.”

“No,” I said. “But I like Firewhiskey generally. Remind me to be careful, though; a little goes a long way.” I decided not to tell him about the time, three months previous, when Hagrid had carried me back from The Three Broomsticks in his arms like a baby.

We touched glasses. “Well, here we are,” I said, then winced. He raised his eyebrows at me. “Come sit down.”

I had an opinionated burgundy velvet couch. It was rather worn, but I had brought it with me because I enjoyed its sense of humor. As I sat, the arm on my side, carved into a bird’s head, said, “Why don’t you choose the other end for a change?” Severus followed, and the head on his side said, “Needs to put some meat on his bones, this one.”

“That’s a rather personal comment,” Severus replied acidly.

“Look,” I said, draping the bird’s face with a dish towel I kept for the purpose. Severus followed suit and the room was quiet again, except for the hissing of the rain outside.

“All right then,” he said briskly. “Tell me about Guy.”

“Oh, Severus, couldn’t we leave that for some other time?”

“No, now I really want to know.”

“Isn’t this going to bother you?” I asked. “And I’ve said a lot already.”

“Yes, of course it’s going to bother me,” he replied peevishly. “That’s why I want to get it over with.” He took a slug of his drink.

“If I do, I’m not going to pull any punches. I won’t try to make it easier for you. Wouldn’t you rather play Wizardscrabble?”

“No, I would not like to play Wizardscrabble,” he said. “Were you very much in love with him.?”

“Yes,” I said. “As I mentioned. I was very much in love with him.” And I told, first about my mother’s death, then Beauxbatons, about Protecteur and how he led me to my work, then Guy, and the Foundation and then – again – Guy’s death, and the terrible year after that. It took maybe an hour, during which we carefully sipped the whiskey but refrained from refilling the glasses. The room grew darker. He had taken my legs in his lap and pulled off my sneakers and was gently flexing and pulling my toes.

I was surprised to find that I felt relieved, emptied; I had never told my whole story to one person.

“I thought I might get married again someday,” I said. “I thought it would be some sort of friendly, companionable late life thing, you know, keeping each other company.

“I had no idea about you,” I said, leaning forward, and I could see the need in his eyes, see him drinking in my words. “I didn’t know what it was to want to pull someone so deep inside me, to want to put his hand on every part of me. I loved Guy with all the person I was, but that person is gone.

“I told you, I’m ruined. There are things I can never forget. But when I met you, I knew I was good for something. I love you now with all that’s happened to me and all I’ve become. If you don’t keep me, Severus, I don’t know what I’ll do.” There was a pause.

“That’s it,” I said helplessly.

As I did, he groaned, set his glass down abruptly, unfurled himself and, taking my thighs in his hands, pulled me flat on the couch. He crawled over me and, supporting himself on his elbows, looked into my eyes and began kissing me with an industrious intensity that had me shivering, hot, and wet in an instant. His body was warm and heavy and quivering tightly like a bowstring.

“Keep you?” he breathed into my ear, kissing and licking the side of my neck. “God, Jehane, I belong to you.” I writhed under him gasping with excitement. Too excited to stop, but aching to get to his skin I struggled with his many buttons while we squirmed uncontrollably. Finally the front of his coat was undone and I worked my arms underneath and pulled his shirt out of his pants. I thrust my arms under it, feeling his hot skin, the muscles shifting beneath, the silk dampened with sweat, the ridge of his backbone flexing as he ground against me.

He brought his head up to stare into my eyes. Then with a murmured, “Comperio,” he drew his finger down the front of my shirt and the buttons disappeared. He pushed my shirt open and looked at my breasts.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. “They’re beautiful.” I shivered and felt myself expand and open for him. He rubbed my nipple with his nose, then kissed it, then closed his hot mouth over it and began to suck. Another wave of pleasure rolled through me, tearing a cry from my throat. I thought I might come right then.

He caught my excitement and began to buck against me in earnest. I could feel him struggling to slow down, but recognized the sounds of impending climax. “Wait –“ I got my hand down far enough to undo my jeans and begin to wriggle them off my legs. A breathy spell – his — and they were gone. “Let me,” I said, fumbling with the buttons of his fly. I managed to free his cock and gasped at the feel of its hardness in my hand. He groaned as I stroked it, then said, “Don’t.”

“Now, please,” I begged. “Fast now, slow later.” He grunted through clenched teeth, the head of his cock pressed against my swollen entrance, my wetness caressing it. He was panting. “Now.” and I grabbed him by the back waistband and pulled. He slid inside me, suddenly, with another sharp intake of breath.

“Oh God,” he said. “Oh. Oh.”

“Yes. Yes. YES.”

In three thrusts we toppled over the edge, still mostly dressed and making an unbelievable racket.

Some time passed, but not too much time, as the couch was uncomfortable for two tall people. We sat up and straightened our clothes. I was suddenly frightened that he would leave. We were a bit embarrassed. It was growing dark outside and I summoned a few candles for the mantelpiece.

I coughed a little and a funny moment went by. I wasn’t sure what to say after moments of such intensity. He stroked my hair, calming me.

“Dinner?” he asked.

“Oh! Yes. Great idea. May I have my pants back?”

“No, you may not.”

“Then you must take off your shirt,” I said. “That’s only fair.”

He started to strip. “Wait,” I said. “I’d like to do that.” I pushed off his frock coat and undid the many buttons on his shirt, kissing his wrists, his shoulders and his collar bones as I did, breathing in the smell of sweat and skin. He was very pale, of course, with knotty muscles running across his broad shoulders. He closed his eyes and leaned back to receive the ministrations of my fingers and tongue. I took my time. Then he sat up, murmuring, “Look at you,” and laid his head against my belly, running his hands over my buttocks. He nuzzled the curls on my mound.

“You’re a real redhead,” he said.

“You weren’t actually wondering, were you?’

“No.”

Tinky was the model of elven decorum, evincing no surprise as I ordered chicken and dumplings, broccoli with garlic, a salad of wild greens, a cheese course, a creme brulee and a bottle of pinot noir, wearing nothing but my green flowered shirt. She was back in a flash, laid it out on the coffee table, and disappeared with a pop as we began to tuck in.

Part way through the meal I looked up at the mantel and missed something. Severus followed my eyes.

“He’s in the drawer,” he growled. “There is a limit to my tolerance.”

“That’s fine,” I said. “May I ask you some questions?” He grimaced. “Oh, please, Severus, don’t you think it’s silly for me to love you like this and not know if you have brothers and sisters?”

“I have no living siblings,” he sighed. “Next question? You may have two more.”

“So you had one that died?”

“Is that one of your questions?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I had a brother who predeceased me.”

“How old was he? When he died.”

“That is also one of your questions.”

“Okay, okay,” I said. “My last question.”

“He died before I was born. He was three years old.” I looked at him sadly. “I was a replacement.”

“Oh,” I said. “I hope you didn’t think that when you were a kid. Not a question.”

“It was hard not to. I was something of a disappointment.” he said bitterly. “Is there any of that wine left?”

I poured him a glass. “May I have three questions tomorrow?”

“I’m sorry, that is a question.”

We talked about this and that, and as the time passed it dawned on me joyfully that he was going to stay the night.

“Will you come to bed now?” I asked. “For the slow part?”

He leapt up.

As we left the room, arms about each othe,r I heard two small voices –

“Disgusting,” said the right arm.

“Makes you grateful for the towel,” said the left.