The Princess and the Bloodstone

The Locket

Severus

It was very rarely that one had the pleasure of experiencing Holly Potter's full, unwavering attention. Severus counted himself lucky when she hung onto his every word as he shared the details of the explosion and the probable manslaughter of Umbridge. She seemed to love the way her plan had played out — even, or perhaps especially — the part where Dolores walked in to discover him dropping the match. They were seated on the floor by the wooden stove in her room, huddled around the warmth emanating from the blazing logs inside.

After his account was exhausted and she asked half a dozen questions, Holly set off on a detailed description of her daring broom theft and subsequent escape from the Castle. Severus restrained himself from lecturing the witch on her irresponsible behaviour. It would be wasted breath on his part. And, quite some time ago, the scales of guilt regarding reckless behaviour had tipped out of his favour. If only he'd kept his mind on his work, he'd not have been as easily swayed by the lips, hips, and tricks of the Chosen One. Yes, the time for ifs had passed. This was what he truly desired. He'd lusted after this love too long to pass by when it came knocking - or spreading its legs on his desk.

Would a thirsty dog reject water?

He would see this through.

Only the promise matters. Protect her.

Thus instead of berating her, Severus focused on observing Holly. The little curls that always stuck to her forehead after Quidditch (or, more often, in the wake of their fornication), the elegant thickness of her brows slanting above her golden spectacles, the perfect bow of her lips, the flushed cheeks tinting her otherwise pale skin. Green eyes speckled with tiny pinpricks of gold. Lily. Sweet Lily. And yet, Holly was so very different.

What does a witch like her want with a wizard like me?

'Are you listening?'

'Yes,' he said too quickly. Then slower; 'You climbed the side of the western tower using a sticking charm while Dolores was investigating the dung bomb in the lavatories. Why?'

'You look like you've been Imperioed, is all.'

'As it happens,' he said, sweeping a strand of hair from her eyes, 'I am bewitched.'

'Let me guess, by me?'

'Indeed,' he chuckled and placed a hand over her smaller one. She rolled her eyes, but smiled, 'Don't joke about hexes.'

'Oh, but I'm dead serious...' he traced a finger down her palm, his Dark Mark humming. 'When you left, the pain was such that I thought I'd die. And now,' he cocked his head, confused. 'I'm perfectly content. Beyond all logic. For the first time since... Christmas.' He wove his long fingers through hers. 'I need you by my side. Everything else, everyone else, can go to hell.'

Holly blinked a few times before leaning over and stamping a kiss on his forehead.

'You're more like Hogwarts to me,' she mused, sitting back. Severus frowned at the metaphor, but she let him hang for a moment. 'You're the home I never had,' she said then. 'But don't let it go to your head!'

He looked down at their union, only then realising his fingers had been shaking.

'I'm glad you're here, Sev.' She steadied his tremors with gentle pressure. 'Thank you. For caring.'

For proving my loyalty with action, how very Gryffindor... 'You mean blowing up Umbridge?'

'And half the dungeons, yes,' she answered with James's grin.

'I'd do it again in a heartbeat,' he admitted, lifting her hand and kissing the back.

Holly didn't mention their quarrel again, which suited Severus just fine. There was no good reason to scratch at such a fresh wound. He wanted very much to query her about the contraceptive potion but held his tongue for fear of setting her off. It would simply have to wait until their relationship drifted to safer waters again. Severus added a stump to the fire and stirred the greying coals about. The manual task ground him in the peaceful moment they were sharing. After so many nights alone, he was ecstatic, in his own way, to have her back. He found himself vowing over and over, never to lose her again.