*Title from the song November Rain by Guns n' Roses*

Severus and Leonor managed it to the first landing of the stairs. She sagged to the floor; the body apathetic. Severus pulled her up, leaning the witch against the wall and holding her tight to remain upright. He wanted Leonor to summon her strength, use the natural powers — against the mordant pain. She needed to fight the feeling of betrayal and defeat by an evil plot. They had to get out of Malfoy Manor, quickly. The stairs could be overheard, a dangerous area if Bellatrix strolled through the door. The smallest sound of weakness and Narcissa's sister wouldn't hesitate a split second to curse them both.

Severus took a flask with potion from the inside pocket and forced Leonor to drink. She resisted, panicking under the new threat, fighting the male pressure until the liquid reduced the tremor and cleared the numbness of the curse. Severus released the screen of the memory charm and tears broke free.

"Be quiet and come!" whispered Severus, touching her cheek slightly when Leonor leaned against his chest, sobbing.

They turned. Lucius Malfoy stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching them with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. Severus seized Leonor's arm, leading the woman downstairs. He ignored Lucius's gaze and nodded a brief greeting while leaving through the hall into the cool and damp night.

Soon they landed in the apothecary's garden and Leonor slipped from Severus' grip, immediately choking and squirming in convulsion. Leonor managed it inside and upstairs, leaving Severus with a worried face towards the closed bathroom door. He got rid of the heavy cloak and the disgusting black mask, cursing it with a twisted expression of helplessness.

He uncased two more flasks contemplating to bring it to Leonor immediately. Instead, Severus walked to the sink to shorten the waiting time, washing hands, arms and face with burning hot water aiming to sanitize against the growing mix of anger, shame and fear. He finished the exercise unsatisfied with himself when Leonor returned. The wizard didn't know what to say staring at her tired eyes, framed by dark circles, ashen skin and colourless lips. He felt relieved when she spoke first.

"I feel better, had trouble with my stomach travelling back from the bird trader already," she snivelled feeling embarrassed; it had not been her bravest response to violence today.

"The pull of apparition through the Dark Mark is heavy, there is a difference. It made me sick when I used it the first time after being branded. Drink that." Severus said it quietly, pointing to the two flasks on the table, uncorking them.

"Are all the real memories back in my head?" asked the witch checking the potions carefully before emptying the small glass bottles.

"Yes. You need to eat something."

"Just a tea, something warm." Leonor's lips shook, suppressing the urge to cry while swallowing the bitter taste of the medicine.

"Go to bed, I get you a tea." Severus embraced Leonor's slim and slightly shaking body, running gentle fingers through the dark-brown hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It isn't your fault. How did I do?"

"Don't worry about that."

"Tell me! I wasn't in control anymore. The apparition, the curse."

"Not too bad. You kept Bella in check."

"She cursed me in the end."

"Still, you made an impression." Severus took Leonor's face in his hands, examining her with pride and holding the fear about the fragile condition carefully wrapped.

"What's coming next?" She looked in the ocean grey eyes. They were now soft and calm, the unwavering formidable mask of steel and supremacy had been replaced by the usual unfathomable depth. It felt safe.

"I cannot know. Let's hope Narcissa doesn't need more treatment and Lucius keeps quiet about the scene on the stairs," said Severus and pressed a kiss on the woman's forehead to release her. "Go to bed! I'll be soon with you," repeated Severus once again.

Flint followed and pecked Severus while searching several drawers full of herbs. The phoenix delayed the search of some tea ingredients, demanding to be stroked, nestling his head into Severus hands. Feeling the soft warm feathers in his palm soothed more than Severus admitted. In his childhood even neighbours' cat made a run when he walked the street. Dumbledore's Fawkes gave him usually no glance, after all Severus represented the House of Slytherin. A trusting pet warmed the soul, a new experience. This was the place to be now, making him even more unable to leave Leonor to herself. She didn't deserve to be alone after all the torture.

After a while, Severus returned from the potion's kitchen with a steaming mug of tea. Leonor had her eyes closed; she was curled up under the blanked. Severus circled his wand and his Patronus left to inform Dumbledore that he didn't return tonight. Then he got rid of the festive clothes; the Halloween feast ended only hours ago and now there existed another strong reason to never celebrate that day again. Severus slipped under the blanked embracing Leonor carefully.

"You stay?" asked Leonor and turned to face the Death Eater in her bed with a small smile, snuggling up to the warmth of love and security.

"I do. I leave before lessons begin. I won't wake you up," whispered Severus; together they might catch some sleep in the few remaining hours of tonight. At the back of his mind he thanked the Phoenix for being so stubborn about some physical contact. Leonor wouldn't have asked for it. She slept immediately and some peace returned to the exhausted expression; the dreamless sleep elixir worked well.

Severus lay awake a bit longer, emptying the mug. Leonor slept in his arm; he inhaled the flowery lily-of-the-valley perfume. The faint smell of the apothecary absorbed him next, a mix of potions and finest herbs, remembering the first day in Diagon Alley. Eileen Snape tore a protesting eleven-year old boy away from the fascinating apothecary in the wizarding street. It had been a good day, a day full of hope for a better life at Hogwarts. He wanted to remember Leonor's house the same way, keeping every detail of the good in his mind. The comfortable bed, the room divider with all the books and the orange glowing embers in the fireplace swallowed the emotional cold of the daily charade easily. A fine home embraced the broken hearts and Severus fell asleep too.

XXX

November brought the chill of an early winter to the wizarding school. The rain swilled dry leaves from the trees. Strong wind blew through grounds and corridors; clouds veiled the turrets and towers. Severus rushed down from the seventh floor, his billowing cloak shoved a few Gryffindors and Ravenclaws aside. Harry Potter and his friends were also once more on the receiving end of a hostile scowl being in Severus' walkway. They just shook their heads in evident hatred. The teacher ignored them. Severus didn't want to lose more time for nonsense.

The weeks after Halloween flew by, pierced with everyday tasks. Madam Pomfrey needed potions; Horace Slughorn proved to use the school stocks more than his own ability to brew for the lessons in time and quantity. The weather made even teachers sick, and Minerva obviously just remembered Severus' name to fill in for the shorthanded supervisions. Roaming the school corridors at night worsened Severus fool temper, waiting for a time slot to visit Leonor. The daily messages to Hogsmeade left an empty space in his guts, mainly because most of them remained unanswered.

The results of Draco's failure in cursing Albus Dumbledore reverberated still in the relationship between the two men. Severus lost being in good graces with the boy and with that the power to prevent future accidents like the fatal curse of Katie Bell before Halloween. Whatever the boy had next in mind! Albus showed no understanding for the situation as if Severus didn't care about the students of the school at all.

St. Mungo's hospital contacted him several times throughout November to learn more about the performed complex black magic to destroy at least something of the aftereffects of Draco's wicked deed. Still, the girl lay still in a comatose state. Even worse than that were the underlying accusations of the healers that he used knowledge of the Dark Arts. What else should he have done without risking Katie Bell's life?

Severus displeased the headmaster moreover by withholding information about Leonor's visit of the Dark Lord and his whereabouts in the following night. Severus felt no obligation to share private lives.

The Dark Lord summoned him suddenly more often to learn about Dumbledore's next moves. Unfortunately, the old wise man suspended the younger from any information. It stretched all Occlumency skills to avoid that Dumbledore's frequent absence from the school and Potter's training remained hidden to the Dark Lord. The short-tempered mood of the Dark Lord boiled dangerous and the smallest failure meant to lose the reputation and fall like Lucius Malfoy. For the first time Severus Snape felt even with the great Albus Dumbledore. The safety of Potter and Dumbledore's adventures where hanging by a thread dependent on his skills.

The swirling thoughts in Severus' mind stopped abruptly when he walked through Hogsmeade, observing the side streets and houses carefully. Mundungus Fletcher exited the Hog's Head Inn. Severus hid in the deep shadows of a lantern until the thief hurried out of sight with a strange package under his arm and a shifty grin. The last red shimmer of twilight had now faded.

The dark clad wizard found the front entrance of the apothecary appropriate this time; Leonor replied only last weekend to one of his messages with a seemingly annoyed 'I'm very busy!'.

The cautious knock on the door sounded meek and hollow through the sales room. Leonor concocted a stronger potion for Bellatrix Lestrange's nail fungus; threatened earlier this week by her reliable husband Rodolphus. She closed her eyes, hoping that it remained silent. Another empathic sound followed. She walked to answer the door, cursing herself for being still awake and not fast asleep.

"Severus."

"Leo."

The wizard pressed himself through the crack of the open door and closed it. It was dark in the waiting area. The only light came from the potion's kitchen and illuminated the counter stocked with boxes ready for shipping. Leonor had already turned and walked back to the workbench with the simmering cauldron.

"What are you brewing?"

"It's for Bella!" intoned Leonor.

"I can help with potions; just let me know."

"No reason to be generous. I manage," snapped Leonor back.

A heavy-laden pause followed. Leonor put the fire out and filled the liquid into a large flask.

"Hope it makes Rodolphus Lestrange and his faithful wife happy. Narcissa recovered at least. An inflammation of the bladder can turn very nasty without the right treatment."

Leonor walked briskly upstairs, swishing her wand to switch the lights. Severus stood in the dark.

"Listen," he started after a while leaning now upstairs against the shiny bannister with folded arms. "I said that we might not see us often."

"Yes, you said that. Did I ask for a visit?"

"Of course not," scoffed Severus.

"I am very busy; your matters keep me busy in addition to all that madness in the country. I have no time for visits anyway."

Leonor stared still through the window into the night.

"Let's talk now." Severus closed the gap between them. He whispered the words 'I missed you'. His lips brushed her ear ever so slightly. Leonor smelled good and her resistance smoothed his anger, he only wanted to make up for the last month; the rain of November had passed.

Leonor turned, looking straight into Severus' eyes. She'd been waiting for him and still despised that visit. He would figure out easily what she tried to hide until she found the origin of her nausea and a solution to heal it.

Severus frowned, studying her face and body explicitly.

"You are ill. Did they do something to you?" he shot with rage.

"No. I'm only overworked."

"The Dark Lord said nothing about making further use of your services."

"The Death Eaters just come. I'm accepted as an equal. They won't ask him to visit me."

"Who?"

"Rodolphus Lestrange brings them here. He doesn't tell their names. Some have spell injuries; others brought some typical diseases from Azkaban. Nothing I could not treat. It's not that they abided by the opening times. At least Lestrange pays for them. Almost always the pain is obvious. It makes them not grateful, but the men behave. Lestrange seems to be less evil than his wife. I cannot write that all to a missive, can I?" The speech served as an overflow valve; the grief dispersed, and her eyes softened.

"I had no idea," said Severus taken aback, "You are so brave."

He embraced Leonor and bent his head, kissed the side of her neck. She gave in to his touch, offering her lips readily. The kisses deepened egged by the long separation. His hands caressed her hips. She was slimmer than Severus remembered. He got distracted from that thought when a hand moved his palm to one of the breasts. The blouse tautened over the lush curves. Leonor moaned with closed eyes under the contact, moving aside creating more freedom for him to explore. She cupped his hands again, bringing more pressure to the already hard skin under the thin fabric.

Leonor whispered, "I'm not patient, I don't like waiting again," and started to undress Severus without a warning. They wanted to touch and be touched, both unable to believe that it was real.

He stripped off the already fallen trousers, this pose appeared vulnerable and he didn't want to mess up. She looked at his body, lingering on his manhood for a moment too long. It set him on fire, and he pressed the naked legs into her middle. Thumbs and forefingers opened the buttons of the blouse in a wave of pleasing heat. Undoing the bra succeeded much quicker with a little magic. Severus took her nipples between his fingers and gently tweaked the tips, immediately replacing the hands with his mouth. The breasts were this time bigger than his thoroughly guarded memory. Tricked him the longing again? It was not the right time to elaborate that in detail.

She murmured, "So much better."

"You sorely tempt a man."

The velvet in his voice ignited more light-headedness, pushing them forward and ridding themselves of all clothes. They made it to the bed. This time!

She tasted herself on his lips, and beneath her taste was his. Strong and masculine.

He had never tasted anything as sweet.

XXX

Midnight was long gone. Severus rested against the headboard of the bed, and Leonor nestled her head in his lap. He caressed her face and they talked, quietly. A backlog of information of more than a year wanted to be told.

"So, why are you that overworked?" asked Severus eventually, focusing again to the present.

"There is so much to do. The regular consultation, the walk-in customers of the apothecary, home visits, St. Mungo's summons me to look after cursed patients. Katie Bell is one of them. She wouldn't have survived without your immediate action. I don't sleep well with all the evil things taking place." She tried to sound as if loads of unexpected work created the only issue and obviously succeeded with it.

"I can help you with orders and deliver them to the Death Eaters if that is what gets you out of balance."

"It's not just that alone and you are busy too."

"I cope with sleepless nights, but you are not used to it. With all due respect, you look lousy, thinner." His fingers brushed gently over the dark lines around Leonor's eyes and the hollow cheeks.

As much as he liked her consuming desire from hours before, the more Leonor's initiative to have faster and harder sex surprised him. It neither fit to the natural innocence nor her past. Talking to Leonor felt alright, soothing, normal — still, a tinge of uncertainty remained in his stomach. He wasn't convinced that Leonor told him everything before they parted in the crack of dawn.