Harry watched Rosalie's retreating figure, smiling to himself until his gaze landed on her shoulder and then she was gone from his view.

His smile faded as he remembered what was there and he knew exactly where it had come from.

The question was why?

It normally never bothered with them until it was time.

And it was not Rosalie's time.

Not that he wanted it to be her time anymore.

He reached into the bath and pulled on the chain, releasing the plug, watching as the water began to drain, staring as though the answer to his question would appear.

"Finished playing nursemaid have we?" a voice suddenly echoed in the bathroom.

Harry did not reply, instead he shot his sister a glare out of the corner of his eye as she walked into the bathroom and sat herself onto the chair where Rosalie had sat earlier.

"I fail to see why she is up here in the main area of the house," Penelope scoffed, "why she isn't down in the oubliette like all the others before her..."

"Because she isn't!" Harry cut her off, not wanting to hear another word about it.

"My my, aren't we touchy little brother?" she said, clicking her tongue as she finished her sentence.

Harry ignored her jibe and continued to tidy the bathroom, picking up the wet towels and placing them into a basket.

Penelope watched him, his jaw tense, his mouth set in a thin line, balling the sponge in his hand and squeezing the water out.

Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinised him.

"Harry?" she finally spoke.

He sighed, brushing the tops of his thighs with his hands to dry them of the water.

"I think she could be the one," he said, slowly turning to face her.

Penelope held his gaze for a moment.

She then threw her head back and laughed, her voice tinkling around the bathroom.

"Like all the others Harry, just like all the others..." she said.

She stood from the chair and began to pace around the bathroom, standing opposite him, the bathtub between them.

"Humour me Harry dear," she mocked him, "why is this girl 'the one'...do tell..." she asked in a bored tone, inspecting her nails as she waited for her brother's explanation.

"I felt it...I felt the connection," he began, "I can't explain it, I just know."

Penelope laughed again.

"Oh Harry," she said, "dear, sweet Harry. Even if she was, do you really think she could?" Penelope paused to let him take in what she'd just said.

"But Penelope..." Harry began.

"I mean look at her Harry! Really?" she interrupted, "she's weak and timid, afraid of her own shadow..."

"But what if..." Harry replied.

"But nothing Harry," Penelope's exasperation began to show, tired of hearing the same words of wishful thinking from her brother, not that she would dare blame him, "you know what she would have to do in order to free us...to free you..."

"You are free to walk away Penelope," Harry reminded her, "you know you do not have to stay...and I would not blame you if..."

"Brother I will never leave you, I made that promise long ago," she looked at him sadly, "you would be all alone."

"But you would have a chance at a proper life, instead of being tied to me," he implored.

"You know what she would have to do, to come face to face with it," Penelope reminded him.

"In order to expel it, yes I know," Harry said, nodding in agreement.

"What makes her any more special than the others anyhow Harry, there is nothing different about her that I can see," Penelope asked.

"It's already marked her," Harry replied.

"What? Are you sure?" Penelope was stunned, it had never happened before.

"I've seen it, she told me she dreamed of the creature and I then saw he marked her, she does not know," Harry explained.

"But...but why would it? Does it sense something about her?" Penelope was still bewildered.

"It has never had just cause to show itself until the moon is full and high, never!" Harry was adamant as he spoke.

"What if you are right Harry?" she said, "let me play the devil's advocate for a moment. Do you really believe she could face this hideous creature and kill it? Honestly?" Penelope pleaded to Harry's sense of reason.

"That's what the prophecy has had us believe for all these years," he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yes, but do you believe she can?" Penelope asked softly.

"I have to, Penelope I've never had any real sign..." Harry looked at the sponge in his hands before throwing it into the bath.

"Until now..." Penelope finished for him.

All thoughts of condescension were gone as Penelope and Harry stood quietly, letting the realisation set in, of what the circumstances could possible mean.

Harry did not want to dare hope, Penelope could see it, but there was one tiny part of him that thought otherwise.

She walked around to stand in front of him, her hands moving to cup his face as she spoke.

"Please don't get your hopes up brother dear," she looked at him with all sincerity, "I...I understand, but don't let it consume you...it may be all in vain," Penelope sighed, "she will be sacrificed in the end, that is her fate to face."

Penelope pulled her brother into her embrace, his beating heart sounding in her ear before she pulled away and looked up at him.

"I just do not want to see you disappointed as I have in the past," she whispered.

"I know," he said, nodding his head in agreeance, "but she is the one, I feel it."

He kissed her on the forehead before heading towards the door.

"You'll see," he said as he exited, leaving Penelope alone in the bathroom.

"We shall," she whispered.

~~~~~~

Harry made his way down the hall, the sound of his footsteps dulled by the long velvet hallway runner. The small wall lights that dotted the hallway guided his way to his bedroom.

He found one of the two doors almost fully closed, Rosalie had left it slightly ajar and as his hand grasped the handle and he pushed it open, he could see her face as she laid in his bed, the light from the oil lamp next to her illuminating her face. She looked so peaceful, so serene and even after how he'd taken her in the last day, buried himself fully in her softness, she still looked so innocent to him.

Doubt started to cross his mind as he imagined her coming face to face with the creature. She did indeed look fragile on the outside, but he was sure that somewhere, deep down, there was a fire in her, a part that was the complete opposite of how she appeared on the outside.

Harry pushed the door open fully and slowly slipped inside as quietly as he could so as not to disturb her. He began to undress, placing his clothes alongside hers on the corner chair before he gently lifted the covers of the bed and slipping in silently beside her.

He was surprised to find she was naked under the bedding.

He took a moment to admire the smoothness of her skin that was mostly pale, like porcelain. Her nipples were pale pink, a light rosy colour and he found his tongue running subconsciously over his lips, wanting to taste them, to trail his tongue around them until they peaked before taking them into his mouth and sucking until the skin turned a deep shade of pink and his teeth could gently nip at the swollen flesh.

She stirred slightly, moving her legs and drawing his attention down to where her thighs met. He recalled how sweet she had tasted and he could now see the colour of her pubic hair matched the colour of her chocolate tresses that were currently spread out over the pillow. He inhaled sharply as he remembered how she'd responded to him as he delved his tongue inside her; the soft curls that covered her mound had teased his nose and lips. He yearned to taste her again, to have her spread out fully naked beneath him, begging for release.

His member had begun to harden at the thought, touching the side of her thigh as it did so. His breathing increased slightly at the thought of taking her there and then, feeling her wrap around him as he filled her, his skin against hers, touching, tasting, exploring every part of her.

But he did not wish to treat her like the others before her.

Seeing the mark upon her delicate skin made something inside him snap.

He felt a sudden need to protect her, as though he was now responsible for everything that happened to her and for things that shouldn't.

And it scared him.

Rosalie stirred again, her hands searching blindly for the covers that had seemingly gone missing from her as she had slept.

She turned her head and opened her eyes to find Harry gazing at her, the covers now settled over her waist, exposing her torso.

Harry lay on his side, his head resting against his hand that was bent, supporting him as the back of his other hand began to softly stroke her arm. She shivered, unsure if it was the coolness of the air touching her exposed skin or her reaction to his touch. Her first thought was to cover herself up but at that moment; she felt nothing but wanted and, well, safe.

He felt her arm move and then her hand tentatively wrapped itself around his member, gently stroking it as she looked at him, waiting for his reaction to know if she was doing something right, or as she felt in her case, something wrong.

Harry's eyes became heavy-lidded and he lowered his head to place a gently kiss below Rosalie's ear. She closed her eyes and found her grip on him tightening as he trailed slow, open-mouthed kisses along her neck until he reached her shoulder.

Rosalie turned her head away from Harry, giving him unrestricted access.

Buoyed on by how responsive she was, Harry moved to hover over her, his mouth moving down to her collarbone where he pulled at her skin, biting with his teeth and sucking at her before running his tongue over the skin to soothe his mark.

Rosalie whimpered and tightened her grip on him, arching her back as his tongue trailed lower until it finally began tracing lazy circles around her already peaked nipple. Her other hand flew to his head, to tangle his hair in her fingers, pulling him to her. He opened his mouth and took as much of her breast in as he could, greedily sucking at her, his other hand trailing down over her stomach and under the sheets. It stopped once it found the soft thatch of curls covering her mound and began circling his fingertips over it. He moved his mouth to her other breast, pulling at the nipple with his teeth, his hand still teasing at the curls on her mound. A low moan escaped her lips as she silently willed his hand to move lower, to between her legs where she was throbbing.

Harry could feel her frustration and he smiled into her skin.

"Harry," she pleaded.

He gave her nipple one last flick with his tongue before sliding up so his face was inches from hers.

"Yes my love?" he whispered.

He watched as she bit her lip, her breathing now shallow and he felt her legs move apart.

"Please..." she pleaded again.

"Please...what?" he said, wanting to hear it from her lips.

"Take me..." she breathed, swallowing nervously, "I...I want you to make me yours...completely."

With a growl, Harry's mouth crashed against hers as she met his with just as much fervour. His hand moved from her mound and slipped between her legs, finding her already wet. She moaned against his mouth and moved her hips against his fingers, wanting more from him.

Harry shifted his body over Rosalie's so he was now between her legs and she opened them wider, wrapping them around his thighs. She felt him resting against her entrance and unable to wait any longer; she reached down and took his member into her hand, guiding the head of it to where she needed it most.

But Harry smiled against her mouth before whispering against her lips.

"I need to taste you first...I want to hear you scream my name as I pleasure you," he said before trailing himself slowly down her body and stopping to nuzzle at her curls where his fingers had been moments before.

He opened his mouth and Rosalie could feel his breath, hot against her throbbing sex as his tongue darted out, the tip of it tracing a lazy circle around her opening.

"Oh my god Harry...oh...my..." Rosalie moaned, arching her back under the touch of his tongue.

Harry continued to tease her entrance, but it wasn't enough for Rosalie.

She wrapped her hands in his hair, spreading her legs wider, inviting him into her.

Harry obliged her and pushed his tongue deep into her entrance, making Rosalie cry out.

"Oh Harry! Oh! I...god..." she cried out incoherently.

Harry continued pushing his tongue in and out of her, Rosalie meeting the thrust of his tongue with her hips.

"'More...please...touch it..." she whimpered.

Rosalie knew that what she was doing should only be done between a married couple, but the pleasure had long overridden the guilt as she succumbed to Harry and his touch.

Harry pushed his tongue in and out a couple more times before taking it out and slowly licking from the bottom of her folds and up to where her swollen bud lay hidden. As soon as his tongue made contact, Rosalie's whole body jolted and her hands tightened in his hair as he finally touched the spot where she had been aching for.

He nibbled and sucked at her bud, making her tremble all over, her thighs moving to envelop his head. He held her in place as he relentlessly licked and sucked until she began to try to move away.

"No...stop...it's too...too much...oh god..." she tried to pull away but Harry held her firm as she suddenly came over his mouth, screaming and shaking, her eyes rolling back into her head as he lapped at everything she offered him until she stopped gripping the bedsheets and her screams gave way to whimpers.

He slowly made his way up her body, now having tasted her again, he looked at her like he was ravenous, having been starved for days.

Rosalie lay in a daze, looking at Harry under half-lidded eyes as she struggled to regain control of her breathing.

"Take me Harry..." she whispered, "fill me again..."

Harry needed no further invitation as he lined himself up at her dripping wet folds, knowing she was more than ready for him and absolutely willing.

He entered her slowly, gasping out loud at how warm and wet she felt around him.

Not wanting to hurt her, he wanted to take his time and savour the feel of her and he wanted her to want him so he began a slow and gentle rhythm, pulling back to watch her face contort with pleasure, feeling her legs curl up around his thighs, pushing him harder into her.

Her hands roamed down the muscles of his back and over his bottom, squeezing the smooth, taut flesh as he continued thrusting.

"Harder," she whimpered, "oh my god, harder Harry"' she arched her back up to him, her nails digging in with frustration.

"As you wish my love," he whispered before pulling away from her and sitting back on his knees, his hands grasping her under her thighs as he began thrusting into her with such force her breasts jolted every time he pushed into her.

Rosalie cried out with every thrust and unable to touch him, gripped the bedsheets in her hands. She felt the power of him in every movement and she felt powerless within herself to stop it.

Not that she wanted to.

She wanted to feel consumed by him.

She wanted to feel every part of him, know everything about him and that moment she knew she would do anything for him.

She was his.

Harry watched the way Rosalie's body responded to him, felt it, he could smell it. He watched the way her eyes closed, how her back arched, her hands moving to fist her own hair as she cried out with want.

"Oh my god, Rosalie," he grunted as her hands ran over her own breasts, squeezing them under her fingers before trailing one of her hands to touch herself, wanting to climax desperately again.

Harry bared his teeth as he watched her fingers play with her swollen bud, her wanton behaviour only fuelling his lust for her.

He stopped thrusting and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her hand to his mouth, running his tongue over her fingers, tasting her.

"I want to make you come again Rosalie," he said, "let me..."

He pulled out of her completely before grasping her by the hips and pushing her over onto her stomach, pulling her hips up slightly before entering her again, the sudden intrusion catching her off guard, causing her to cry out as he filled her...

~~~~~~

She watched as Harry thrust into Rosalie, every muscle in his body clenching as he moved, Rosalie writhing as the sensations overwhelmed both her body and her mind.

Harry moved to hover over Rosalie, his mouth trailing over the skin of her shoulders and neck and she watched Rosalie throw her head back, her mouth open as she moaned under Harry's touch.

"Oh! Oh...my...! Harry..." she heard Rosalie scream and she felt herself involuntarily clench as she braced herself on the doors that led into Harry's bedroom, the crack between them large enough for Penelope to see.

Subconsciously, one of her hands ran down the front of her silk dress and come to rest between her thighs, massaging where she could despite the restrictions of her dress.

Moments later she watched Rosalie climax, screaming as she did, her hands fisting the bedsheets.

She heard her brother growl moments later and stopped.

It didn't sound normal.

It didn't sound like him.

Her eyes widened as she watched her brother continue to find his own release.

A horrified gasp left her mouth as she saw a pair of large black wings emerge from his back, and envelop them both as he came...