Much Ado at Nott's

The Night and the Morning

That night, a year to the day after their final night together, they were together in his bed again.

She brought in sweets and drinks from the party — berries, trifles, champagne. In the bed with him, she ran her hands up and down his arms, his sides. Examining how his body was healing.

"I'm tired of having a dangerous job," he said as she placed a berry on his tongue, "and a job that would keep me away from you. Or," he said unhappily, looking down at his bruised frame, "outside of you."

"Don't become a poet," she teased, and he punished her with a kiss. Then he opened his mouth like a baby for more berries.

"I want to create beautiful things," he said, accepting more and feeling them roll tartly on his tongue. "I'm just not sure what."

"We'll find out together," she said, feeding him more.

"Not to mention...the world must be peopled," he said with a grin, his lips now rosy with juice.

"We'll figure that out together, too. But those new people can wait," she said. "Before I mother any of your fools, I want you to myself for awhile first."

He agreed. Then an arc of pain traveled through him and he tensed. She held him until it passed — she had adjusted his potions again.

Then they turned to face each other.

"You were very unkind to my particulars that first day," he said, touching her nose. "It was all I could do not to tell everyone you'd had firsthand experience of them and found them quite pleasing."

She ran a hand between his legs and squeezed briefly. "I'm sorry to your particulars," she said, grinning. "I'll make it up to them and all your other mischievous parts."

He kissed her palms. "Tell me now; which of my bad parts did you first fall in love with?"

"With all of them equally," she said. "They're all so uniformly evil that it's not possible to pull out one good part. But speaking of that — for which of my good parts," she said, opening her shirt and guiding his head to her breasts, "did you first suffer love with me?"

"I do suffer love indeed," he said, blinking mournfully at her with his mouth full of nipple, "for I love you against my will."

"You and I are too wise to fall in love peacefully," she said, sighing, her thighs falling open as he suckled contentedly at her breast. Then, hearing her sounds of arousal, he pulled her close for all the kisses she could want, long and languid and slow.

The intensity of the previous times would not be possible tonight. It reminded her of their final hours together, when in spite of the waning time, they went slow, so slow. So tonight everything would be conveyed through hands and lips, and Merlin, with the way he used his, it might just be enough.

They tasted each other's mouths for a long time and then he looked down at himself and said, "I'm jealous of the man I was a year ago. But when I'm better," he said, wiggling his eyebrows, "I promise I'm going to put him to shame."

She lowered her hand to his arse and squeezed hard. He made a little shocked sound and then fluttered wicked lashes at her.

"I have what I want," she grinned. "Do you?"

"If I can live in your heart, die in your lap, and be buried in your eyes — then yes," he said.

Poetry was so much better when he spoke it than when he wrote it.

Then he began kissing her everywhere he could, gently and according to his ability. She came slowly and powerfully under his tongue, and then he came under hers. And then it was time to sleep.

They were still asleep at noon the next day, long after everyone else was up. When Theo finally knocked and then shamelessly peeked in, he saw his favorite combatants under the covers, wrapped in each other's arms. Completely quiet, making no sounds.

Displaying no wit.

Totally at rest.

Astraea the cat was curled on top of them like a marble guardian. Draco's face rested peacefully in the crook of his lover's shoulder, pillowed in her loose, shining hair.

One of Hermione's breasts lay plump and uncovered in a way that Theo deeply wished he could appreciate, but for him only evoked paintings and tapestries. He covered her up to keep her warm and also because he wanted to take a picture.

Theo put the shit-eating sunglasses on Draco's nose and took a picture for the purposes of eternal blackmail.

Then he removed them and smoothed Draco's hair. He gave them both a kiss on the cheek. They barely stirred.

Then he closed the door and left them to their dreams of tomorrow.