CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:

Hermione's POV:

I let out a low groan as awareness slowly filtered back through my body. My eyelids felt heavier then lead, my body ached and my head was throbbing something fierce. What had happened? I wondered, trying to move, trying to sit up. That's when I noticed the ropes.

They were almost as thick as my wrist, and trapped my arms, painfully, behind my back. I was stuck in a kneeling position, and a loop of the rope tying my hands was similarly binding my ankles together. And they were tight. I couldn't feel my hands, the circulation having been cut off, and I was almost too squeamish to look around, not wanting to see the horrible purple color I knew they'd be.

Taking calming breaths, I turned my attention away from myself, and over to my surroundings. I was mostly surrounded by grey; grey walls, grey ceiling, grey floors. There were no windows I could use to tell the time by, only a single artificial light above my head.

The last thing I remembered before the sharp pain in my head was... my wand on the ground and the same low chuckling that I could hear now. Amused, aristocratic... dangerous. Fighting back the fear pounding in my chest, I turned towards the sound, ignoring the crick in my neck, to see him standing there.

Lucius Malfoy. He was thinner then I remembered, and his once glorious shoulder-length silver- blonde hair was stringy, greasy. The clothes he wore hung off his thin frame, and there was a certain look in his eyes that was new, that hadn't been there the last time I had faced him. A look that terrified me more then anything else.

Because that look clearly stated one thing- Lucius had nothing left to lose. "Miss Granger, what a delight." He smiled, a sick, sick smile that spoke of pain and suffering and revenge.

"Malfoy," I spit out, between gritted teeth. He laughs, once more, but the sound is without humor.

"I told you we'd be meeting again, did I not?" He grins, prowling around so he's standing in front of me. I scowl.

"You talk too much."

"And you don't?" he countered. His left hand slipped out of view for a second, before re-emerging, a slim ebony stick now held in his fingers. I couldn't help the fear that flooded me at the sight of the wand, and, without my permission, my body cringed away.

This made him smile, and then the wand was pointed at my chest and he was speaking. Every nerve in my body exploded in pain, a crawling, sharp, burning pain that had enough continuous variation that my mind could never become desensitized to it. It rolled through my body like a plague and destroyed all resistance, tearing down all barriers like tissue. I was screaming, screaming and thrashing in my constraints. Pain, so much pain, unbelievable pain. I screamed until I couldn't, and only then did he lift the Cruciatus Curse.

I was curled up on the ground, trembling fiercely. My trousers were soaked from when I'd lost control of my bladder and a stream of blood trickled from my mouth. I prayed it was over, but as I looked up and my eyes met his, I knew it had barely begun.

My world again burst into the same unimaginable pain, my body convulsing with it, thrashing against the hard floor. Nerves were flayed by the spell, burning raw under the power of the magic until all I seemed to know was the white flare of pain, until I was again lying there on the marble gasping for air and sobbing.

I didn't get much time for relief, before an invisible force dragged my up so I was kneeling again, and Lucius looked down at me, amused. "What's this?" he asked, reaching forwards and yanking the dainty gold chain around my neck with enough force to break it. My breath caught in my throat as I realized that during my thrashing the necklace had fallen out of my shirt, and I stared at the ring he now held, with a degree of horror.

His face twisted into an expression of glee as he recognized what it was that he held. "A wedding ring? Well, well, Granger, this is a surprise," he sneered, "is it still Granger?" he then pondered, out loud, before shrugging and chuckling. "No matter, it looks like there's a new player in our little game."

My breath caught in my throat, and I started shaking my head, wildly, ignoring the sharp pains the

movement brought. "No! Don't you dare go near her!" I shouted, furious, heart pounding in my chest.

"'Her'?" Lucius smirked, before tipping back his head and laughing. "Oh this is going to be fun."

Anger filled me, white-hot anger, and it was like a sheen of red had been placed over my eyes. The ropes binding me tore, and then I was standing, arms free, legs free. I had a split second to enjoy the look of apprehensive confusion on Lucius' face, but then I was leaping towards him, knocking the wand from his grasp, my fingers curled like claws.

I raked my nails down his face, aiming for his eyes, and his foot crashed into my stomach, sending me flying down onto my back with a heavy thud, knocking the air from my lungs. I sputtered to catch my breath, but he was already on me, angry eyes piercing down like daggers, blood trailing down his face like crimson tears, while his long fingers wrapped tightly around my throat and squeezed.

My scalp tightened under his strong grip as the blood was cut off along with my breathing, and I struggled to fend him off with my small hands. Just as the dark clouds bean to appear around the corners of my vision, he made a mistake and moved his weight to gain better leverage, exposing his ribs to my swiftly moving knee. One good hit was all it took to knock him off me, knock him across the room, crashing into the wall with a force that shouldn't have come from me. He let out a yell, clutching his side while I regained my footing and gasped for air, coughing and gagging.

Wherever my freak strength had come from, it was rapidly draining now, and after the torture I was in no match to fight the older, stronger man. As he rushed to the wand, to where it had handed across the room, I scrambled backwards. A stream of blue light that missed me by about an inch told me Lucius had the wand back. I dug my hands in my pockets, praying that he'd messed up, that he'd left my Portkey in there, but it was gone.

Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin! I chanted mentally, horrified. I would fight to my last breath, but I had a feeling that that moment wasn't exactly far off. And then a miracle happened.

The sound of apparating filled the cellar, and suddenly there were more bodies crowded in here. For a second or two, I could see Lucius' murderous expression, met his cold, cold eyes, but then he disappeared in a swarm of black smoke.

Warm arms lifted me up, someone pressed something into my hand and muttered 'portus' and then world was much too blurry. I was spinning, spinning, then I was sprawled over the grass in a very familiar looking yard.

"Hermione!" Alice just about screamed in relief, blurring over to my side and pulling me up into her arms. My head lolled weakly, and I gave her a watery smile, before closing my eyes, and relaxing for the first time since the trap was set.

"Alice..." I breathed. My body ached, my mind was swimming, and shapes were dancing before my eyes. Alice rocked me gently, and I tried not to flinch as the movements caused pain to flare through me.

"Shh,' Alice half-cooed, half-coaxed, "shh, you're going to be fine, sweetie."

"Know I will. I've got you." I whisper, hoarsely, feeling waves of peace and calm and sleepiness roll over me, foreign emotions I know are the work of a certain blonde vampire. Part of me noted that I would probably be annoyed at this if I was thinking clearly, but I wasn't thinking clearly and I just couldn't bring myself to care, so I snuggled into my mate's arms and let myself drift away.

And I dreamed.

The décor of Shell Cottage left something to be desired, I noted, as my gaze flicked around the empty bedroom. When I was younger, before Hogwarts, before any of this, I'd read a book about sea dwelling creatures, and obviously some of the information had stuck with me, as my tired brain threw out the name of the various remnants which lined the walls.

It was odd how some things stayed with you.

I couldn't remember the name of the well meaning relative who'd given me the book, just that Jeanne Granger had passed it to me on my birthday, and that, as a young academic who was already reading Shakespeare, I wasn't that impressed by what I'd believed at the time to be a fairytale, a book of make-believe.

A spasm of pain flitted along my ragged nerves and I stiffened slightly.

Yes the décor was really horrible. Not a very kind observation perhaps, but I wasn't in a very forgiving mood.

In fact, I had never been so angry in my entire life. Not even at Renee, the mother who'd given me away, or Umbridge in my fifth year- hell, not even at Ron three months ago...

The cotton sheets bunched under me as I clenched my hands into fists and collected my thoughts, ignoring the twinge the action brought. Merlin's balls, I was so bloody angry.

Angry at myself- angry that I hadn't run faster, fought harder, tried to apparrate. Angry that we'd been caught in the first place and for the stupidest of reasons- one verbal slip had caused...this? It seemed preposterous. And I was furious with Harry and Ron- oh yes, they'd been concerned and sympathetic but they just expected me to be okay? After being tortured?

Pages of Dan Granger's medical journals slipped to the forefront of my mind. People who went through terrible ordeals were emotionally scarred for years later. They suffered panic attacks, hallucinations, phobias... they had numerous problems. I wouldn't just be okay.

A nearby lamp exploded and I breathed in to try and rein in my emotions. I was panicking and my magic was out of control. I could only imagine what a full-blown anxiety attack might do right now.

I focused on my problem as I would a homework assignment. If I could just pretend this was happening to somebody else, perhaps I would be able to function.

What would I do at Hogwarts?
Ah yes.
Look up the effects of the Cruciatus Curse.

Well there was the obvious. The pain caused by the Curse was enough to send people mad. It had in fact, Alice and Frank Longbottom being prime examples. Short term of exposure needed only a day's rest and a determinable amount of pain-relief potion, and rarely had any lasting effects. Repeated exposure was a slightly greyer area and generally patients were treated as needed.

However the spell kept up, without respite, for a great length time, and repeated over and over, was a different matter. Often the victims broke bones or tore ligaments in their writhing. Others suffered subdural hematomas, went insane, or were tortured into paralysis and comas. In that respect I had been rather lucky.

I laughed quietly and it echoed emptily around the room. Lucky.

That was the thing about the Unforgivable. The feeling that every cell in your body was on fire, it wasn't imagined. The curse actually caused the pain. It was real.

I hummed and twitched my fingers, as though rubbing out a mistake. That wasn't relevant.

Treatment courses...Not only would a continuous dosage of pain-relief potions for several months be completely necessary, but also Pepper-Up, muscle relaxant and bed rest. As well as that, the patient would be in pain for several weeks. There was no known antidote to the paralysis or insanity, those who suffered subdural hematomas usually died quickly, only about half of the victims who ended up in comas ever woke up.

My arm twitched and a spike of pain tensed my exhausted body. I didn't look down. I didn't need to. The sight of it, of the bloody wounds, was already seared into my brain, etched permanently onto my memory. And this...this was what made me truly furious. Because of what Bellatrix had done to me, I would have to live with the memory of how bloody scared I had been everyday. Because I had been scared. Terrified. I had no doubt that had Harry and Ron taken even just a few more minutes, Bellatrix would have lost interest and I would have been dead.

A dead witch walking.

Never had mortality been so close to me. I'd been through a lot in my seven years in the magical world, but never in all my "adventures" had I seriously been in a position where I was just waiting to die. Not even when the Death Eaters ambushed us in the Department of Mysteries.

I was the brightest witch of my age, but not that, nor any of the thousands of books I'd read, would have stopped Bellatrix from slitting my throat with that silver knife, or casting the spell that would have stopped my heart.

One Avada Kedavra was all it took...

My eyes fluttered open and a pitiful sound escaped my mouth. My head hurt, my body hurt and I knew this pain, this shaking. Darkness rose up once more, and I eagerly let it pull me back under, into another memory.

"The only good Mudblood is a dead Mudblood." Lucius smiled, a twisted smile. I felt my protective mechanism kick in, my ability to cut myself off completely from my emotions. In this state, sarcasm and underhanded remarks were my best friends, and the only thing that came out of my mouth. It may not be as loud or explosive as just releasing anger by yelling or getting physical, but dealing with Slytherins was different, deadlier.

And when used correctly it could destroy someone from the inside out, and I found that infinitely more satisfying then beating someone to a pulp. Though that did have its appeal.

"I thought you were smarter then this, Lucius," I scoffed, rolling my eyes, even as I kept my wand pointed firmly in his direction. He chuckled, prowling in a circle, forcing me to copy his movements, in order to keep him in my line of sight.

"Pray tell me, Mudblood, where I failed your expectations?"

"You could have escaped. Gone anywhere in the world. With your money and international connections, it would have been nearly impossible to track you down. But you couldn't let go of your wealth, had to surround yourself with your riches. You had to have known it would only be a matter of time before I broke the wards on your properties and found where you were."

"Maybe I wanted this," Lucius countered, his eyes glittering dangerously, "maybe I wanted you to find me." My heart beat a little quicker, but I refused to let my brief flare of fear show on my face.

"I can actually believe that," I agree, "because you need to feel superior. With everything else gone, this is the only way you have left to try and prove that you were more then just Voldemort's sniveling sycophant. By killing me before going into hiding, you're leaving your own mark in history. But there's a problem with that."

"A problem?" Lucius sneered, "pray tell me, where this 'problem' is?"

"The fact that you never were and never will be more then just Voldemort's sniveling sycophant. That's the problem." A shadow of fury crossed Lucius' face before he managed to wipe it clean of emotion.

"You've gotten better, Mudblood. Those emotions you hold so clearly for the world to see are undeniably Gryffindor, but the way you express them ... that's all Slytherin."

"At least that gave the Sorting Hat several possibilities for where to place me. Not like you. Your self-preservation is the only thing that got you into Slytherin, Lucius. You were too dumb for Ravenclaw, too cowardly for Gryffindor and too selfish for Hufflepuff. You really didn't leave the Hat with any option." I countered. Lucius' face flickered again, and I smirked, triumphantly.

"Enough with this," he spat, before a twisted smirk spread over his face, "let's dance, Mudblood." And the first curse flew my way.
"No... no, no, no, no, no..." Icy hands stroked my sweaty, flushed skin, and I let out a pained gasp.

"I'm not an idiot." I told Harry, stubbornly. Lucius Malfoy was officially in custody, and I'd done a runner from St Mungos as soon as I woke up, not wanting to be there any longer then I had to be. Harry had found me within half an hour, and he was unimpressed.

"No, you prat, but sometimes you act like one." Harry responded, glowering at me. "Lucius Malfoy is finished, that's all that matters!"

"You went after him alone!" Harry exploded, "I know that since Bellatrix is dead, he's the only one you can hunt down for revenge, but you could have died, Hermione!"

"It would have been worth it to see him dead!" I responded, with a ferocious glare. "Hermione," Harry suddenly hesitated, "he's not dead. The Healers saved his life." "What?" I shrieked.

"He was still breathing when you brought him back. They fixed him back up. He's going to sit trial, and he'll be sentenced to rot in Azkaban. That's what's right, Hermione. That's what we fought for- we're the good guys. We don't kill our enemies."

Tears start running down my face, then. "I don't feel like a good guy, Harry. Not anymore." I tell him, my voice choked up. Harry sighs, and pulls me into his arms, his anger drained from him.

"Me either."

My eyes flew open as I gasped, chest heaving. I could feel the pain firing through my nerves, but I ignored it. I ignored the room I was in, the room Alice and I shared at the Cullen mansion and I ignored my beautiful mate, who was sitting with my head on her lap, her hands running through my hair, over my face, stroking my neck.

No, I ignored all that and instead focused on pushing back the rush of memories.

If I wanted to keep safe, to keep Alice safe and Bella safe and the rest of my family safe, then there was one thing I had to do. Something I should have done a long, long time ago.

I was going to hunt Lucius down and this time I was going to finish him properly. He wouldn't be returning to Azkaban again.

A sense of not peace, but calmness flooded over me, and the panic, the anxiety, the fear... just drained. I rolled over, my body no longer protesting the movements, and when I closed my eyes, I fell into a deep, restful, peaceful sleep.

When I woke up again, this time I stayed awake. I noted that someone, most likely Alice, had changed me out of my soiled clothes, into fresh, clean ones. I also wasn't in the bedroom anymore, no, I was lying on the couch across from Bella, half propped up by a mountain of cushions, with Alice sitting on the ground, next to my head.

"Hey," she said softly, raising one of her tiny, slim hands to touch my cheek.

"Hey," I return, trying to reach out to touch her cheek myself, but I freeze, wincing at the sight of my arm, at the pattern of dark bruises left by the ropes. "Ouch." I mutter. Alice's face turns alarmed.

"Where does it hurt?" she demanded, hands fluttering anxiously.

"Nowhere," I quickly reassure her, "I was just making an observation." She pursed her lips, but didn't say anything else about it, instead leaned forwards to her cheek was resting on my shoulder.

"Never, ever do that again," she whispers, her cool breath brushing against my skin in a way that made my heart stutter.

"Okay." I agree, without really thinking, twisting so that I'm kissing her. First softly, a sort of languid, aimless kissing that gradually turned into something more urgent as the need grew in both of us.

Somehow, we managed to end up lying side by side on the narrow couch, Alice on top of me, my back flat against the backrest. But before it got the chance to go further, we were interrupted as I was reminded of the fact that we had an audience.

"Hem hem!" I wince slightly, painfully reminded of the horrible toad known as Umbridge, who was thankfully now rotting in a cell in Azkaban, before following the source of the noise, and glaring at Bella.

My annoyance drains quickly when I see her gaunt face, and I try sitting up, hurriedly, and Alice has to push me back down, gently but firmly.

Bella's face looks ashen again, and I could see a new, thick bandage wrapped around her forearm. Edward was standing, soundlessly, beside her, his dark eyes fixed on me, with an expression of relief in his eyes. "I'm very glad you're okay, Hermione." He said softly.

"Thanks." I gave a weak smile. Bella makes a small sound of pain as she tries to sit up, and slumps back heavily against the cushions she's propped up on.

"Hermione's awake?" I hear a voice say, and then Harry's striding into the room, a relieved look on his face, followed by Ron, Ginny, Fleur, George and Leah.

"How long was I out?" I ask.

"Only around an hour. Gave us enough time to get rid of all the hanger-on's." Leah shrugs, settling herself down on one of the single couches.

"By hanger-on's, she means the rest of the Order, who were frantically searching for you." Harry says, dryly.

"Imbéciles," Fleur seethes, with a toss of her white-gold hair, "zey were all utter imbéciles!" "What did they do?" I ask, confused by the irate French woman.

"It's what they didn't do," Ginny's voice is carefully neutral, "some of us suggested using Old Magick to locate you."

"Ah," I say, understanding Fleur's frustration and anger. "Blood magic. Right."

"Hermione," Ron speaks up, after giving Fleur a look, "I know it's really soon, but can you tell us what happened?" I sigh, and nod.

"How far have you gotten?" I ask, not wanting to go over anything they've already covered.

"We just know that someone killed Auror Joe Brown and just about hospitalized Nott and Auror Orius Brewster." I make a growling noise.

"Wrong. Nott killed Brown while Brewster attacked me, and summoned five other attackers. I was caught by surprise," I admit, hanging my head slightly. I had failed Moody's most important rule- Constant Vigilance.

"Fuck," Ron swore, getting to his feet, "I'll be back, I need to make sure Nott and Brewster are restrained." He spins and disappears, and some of the tension in the room rises, and more people filter in... well, more vampires filter in.

Esme comes to stand next to me, giving me a warm smile. "I'm so relieved you're okay, dear." She says, and I smile back at her.

"Thanks Esme."
"So what happened after those wankers ambushed you?" Harry asks, face fierce.

"They apparated me somewhere then knocked me out. When I woke up, I was tied up in a cellar or something." I explain, "Lucius was there. We talked, he tortured me a bit, he talked some more, something weird happened and then you showed up." I frown. Now that the danger is over, I'm actually quite mystified. "Something really weird."

"What?" Harry prodded, as I stay silent.

"I got really furious and then somehow... somehow I managed to rip through the restraints," I explain, "I broke the ropes like they were... nothing. And then I threw Lucius across the room, into a wall."

"What?" Harry asks, surprised, "how the hell did you do that?" I shrug helplessly. "I don't know! I just... did."

"May I offer a suggestion?" Carlisle speaks up, in his calm, steady voice. Surprised, Harry and I turn so we're facing him. "When you bonded with Alice, she gained several more... human characteristics. Perhaps you gained some vampire ones." He suggests. I blink. Huh. Super-strength.

"That... that could make sense."
"How do we test it?" Harry asks.
"Knife." I tell him, and he nods, summoning one from the kitchen, and handing it to me, hilt first.

"What are you doing?" Alice asks, nervously, eyeing the silver blade.

"Testing." I tell her, holding the hilt firmly then dragging the blade along the unmarked skin of my forearm, the one not tainted by the MUDBLOOD scar. Alice acts quickly, ripping the knife out of my hands, but the test is done, and I, along with Carlisle and Harry, stare curiously at the result.

The cut is shallower then it should be, my skin firmer, harder to split, then normal warm, soft human skin. But that wasn't the intriguing part, no- the intriguing part was the tiny cracks on either side of the cut. "Holy shit," Harry mumbled, and I agreed with him.

"That's... different."

"How could you not have noticed?" He asks me, incredulously, and I shrug.

"I've never been in any sort of position where it would come to my notice."

"Your teeth," Alice said, suddenly.

"What about them?" I asked.

"I didn't think..." she pulls down the neckline of her top, revealing pale skin and...

"I don't understand." Harry said, confused. But I did.

"That's a bite mark." I said, oddly fascinated.

"You bit me there, when we were making love." Alice explained, "I... I thought it might be because of how I changed, but my skin's still just as hard, it just looks less pale..."

"I can't even see anything." Harry shook his head. "If you can see it, Hermione, that already means your eyesight's better then mine."

"That wouldn't be hard- you have terrible eyesight." I point out, feeling uneasy.

"I cannot see anyzing eizer." This was Fleur, who was peering at where I could just make out the faintest of marks.

"Fascinating," Carlisle murmurs, having gravitated towards me.

"Before we test this further, can someone tell me how did you found me?"

"Uh, we followed Fleur's suggestion." Harry said, uncomfortably.

"What." My voice was flat. Harry looked guilty but Fleur just drew herself up higher.

"I used an old Bulgarian spell," she announced, "I do not regret eet."

"Blood to find Blood," I realize, sucking in a horrified breath, but before I can say anything there's a crack as Ron reappears in the room- I can't talk about the use of Dark Magic in front of an Auror.

"What did I miss?" he asks.
"Nothing much. Are Nott and Brewster in custody?" I respond, instantly.

"They aren't going anywhere anytime soon," Ron promises, before settling back down in the seat he'd occupied before. "Okay, so what happened after the ambush?"

"They apparated her to Lucius," Harry answers for me, "he cursed her and she managed to get free." My lips tighten slightly at the lie, but I know why he did it- Ron's an Auror. He has a responsibility to report everything he hears to his superiors, and the fact I appear to have some kind of weird vampire thing happening to me would not go down well with the Ministry of Magic.

"And?" Ron presses, impatiently.

"She had a bit of a rough and tumble with Lucius and used her Portkey to get to safety." Harry lies without pause. Portkey? What-oh! Well that explains why Harry didn't apparate me back, I note. It's certainly the most plausible excuse for how I got out of there.

"And that's all you can tell me? Did you recognize any of your other attackers? Do you know where you were being held? Were there any other people there?" Ron continues with the questioning.

"No, no and no," I shake my head, "all I saw was the cellar, and I never heard or saw anything that suggested the presence of anyone else and the other attackers were wearing hoods." Ron sighs, and runs a hand through his hair.

"If you remember anything else, can you Floo me? I've got to go deal with a mountain of paperwork. Dealing with Brewster is going to be a nightmare, and the Daily Prophet is going to have a field day."

"Have fun," Harry snorts, and I give him a sympathetic look. He kisses my forehead, gives my shoulder a quick squeeze, then apparates off again. "He knows we're keeping something from him," Harry notes.

"He understands," I assure the dark haired boy, "he's not a jealous teenager anymore. He knows why we have to omit parts, and he won't push us."

"He really has grown up, hasn't he?" Ginny mused, a small smile on her face.

"Yes, now back to the original topic. Fleur, of all the- Blood Magic? Really? Do you know how dangerous that is?"

"Lily Potter used eet to save 'arry's life. I used eet to save yours." Fleur says, firmly. I sigh, and turn to my sister.

"And Bella? Are you okay?" I ask. She gives a weak smile, holding up her bandaged arm. "I've been better." I sigh.

"Okay, who else was at my rescue?"

"Me, Bill and George." Harry states. "George followed me when I took Bella outside, Bill did it for Fleur who would have come, except for the whole bun in the oven thing." I nod and lay back.

As the conversation keeps flowing, I pull away from it, letting my mind wander. Today shouldn't have happened. An Auror shouldn't have died, those two 'wankers' shouldn't have been able to get the drop on me, Bella and Fleur shouldn't have had to risk their lives performing an incredibly Dark spell and Lucius should be in custody.

We, and by we I meant I, had failed spectacularly today, and the result was a psychopathic murderer still on the loose, and a senseless death in what should be a time of peace.

And I was exhausted.

"Can we go upstairs and rest?" I ask Alice, quietly.

"Of course," she nods, wrapping an arm around my waist to support me as I stand up. She doesn't have to, I'm shaky from the torture curse, but not so shaky I can't stand on my own or travel short distances, but she wants to help.

"Are you okay?" Bella asks, anxiously, and I nod.

"Just need a rest." I tell her, and she nods, resting back on the pillow, face exhausted, her sweaty hair fanned out like a halo around her head. I push away the niggling fear that threatens to emerge- Bella is going to be fine.

We make it back to the bedroom, and then suddenly Alice's lips are on mine. Her kiss is a surprise. I wasn't expecting it, but I welcome it without hesitation. I push her back, just long enough to cast a quick, wandless silencing charm, and then I'm pulling her lips back to mine.

Her hands move from clutching my hips, under the loose sweatshirt I'm wearing, to moving up and down my body slowly, exploring my body with her icy hands. I clutch the back of her head, gasping, tugging at the ends of her black hair. Alice growls lightly against my lips, her tongue plunging into my mouth.

I groan.

Needing her.

She groans back.

Needing me.

She's not kissing my lips anymore, her mouth as moved to my throat, where she's kissing and sucking, and it's intoxicating. Her skin feels exquisite under my fingertips, her touch is inebriating.

The artful slowness, the heated intimacy... as our clothes scattered the floor, the moans of pleasure escaped us as we worked to please each other were delicious and empowering.

When we finished, when her fingers had drawn me out and her lips had worked me from my senses, we curled up together on the bed. I was a mess of sweat and her cool skin felt divine against my flushed body.

"I love you." I tell her, and she snuggles beside me. "I love you more."

"Impossible," I tease, trailing my fingers along the curve of her jaw. I want this moment to last forever, this moment free from stress and fear and responsibility... just being here, with her, was... perfect.

But our escape couldn't last forever. Not when there were too many people relying on us, needing us. Not when the people we loved were in danger.