Now what do we have here?" the five of them spun around to see the hook-nosed figure of Snape standing beyond the veil of leaves. "Ah yes," he sneered as they walked out, all of them glaring at him defiantly, "I should have expected it."
"We're just talking." Harry snapped. "There aren't rules against that now, are there?"
"Or has Umbridge taken over again?" Kathryn asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk that forcibly reminded Snape of Lucius Malfoy.
"No." Snape regarded them coolly. "But I would have thought that you would take more care about where you discuss such sensitive subjects."
"Fine." Harry turned on his heel and stalked off back to the castle, followed by the rest of them.
"Miss Potter," Snape called before they could all get away, "a word if you please." Kathryn waved them on ahead of her before turning back to her Professor. She made sure that she had blocked her mind before she reached him; preferring that he did not see what her mind had to tell.
"Yes Professor?" she gave him a questioning look.
"The game you and your friends are playing is a dangerous one, especially for you."
"Game, sir?" she pretended to be politely confused.
"Lucius Malfoy is not a man to be toyed with; he is powerful, dangerous and always gets what he wants."
"I am sorry Professor," she shook her head, "I am playing no such game. I am merely trying to ensure that he does not try to remove Headmaster Dumbledore at every conceivable point, and if that means dancing and playing nice, I will gladly do it." She turned and swept off. "Thank you for your concern anyway." She added before heading back to the castle steps.
"What did he want?" Ron asked as she sat down with them back in the Great Hall.
"Warning me off Malfoy." She explained. "Says it's a dangerous game that I shouldn't be playing."
"And what did you say?" Hermione asked.
"I told him, in polite terms of course, to sod off because I know what I'm doing." She laughed, taking a sip of a glass of red wine.
"Well, he can talk." Ginny scoffed, twisting a finger in Harry's hair. "The games he's been playing, I'd say Lucius Malfoy is a pretty small fish in comparison."
Snape, however, did not seem so easily satisfied by her explanation. Barely half an hour later, she found herself again being accosted by the Greasy Bat of the Dungeons. Her only problem was that she was standing talking to some of the Governors with Lucius and she could not snap at him to go away.
"Lucius." She heard Snape say silkily to the man beside her. "I wonder if I might steal your partner for a moment?" Lucius raised his eyebrows apprehensively before nodding.
"Certainly." Her arm was passed to Snape and, with a curious look back, she was swept away.
"What are you doing?" she hissed at Snape as he led her onto the dance floor and placed a callused hand on her waist.
"Dancing, Potter." He gave her a wry smirk as he gracefully led her round the dance floor. "I assumed you would have realised that."
"Excuse my bluntness," she retorted instantly, "but have you hit your head?" she asked in a curt tone. Snape looked momentarily stunned at the lack of her usual respectful tone that she took with all the teachers.
"What?" anger flared instantly in his obsidian eyes.
"Have you injured yourself and cannot remember who you are?" she asked with a smirk playing across her features. "The Professor Snape I know would never bring himself to dance with a student. Or have you decided that now is the time to change your image?"
"The Lucius Malfoy I know would never stoop to dancing with someone he perceived beneath him, let alone choose them as his partner."
"I should have known you wouldn't have let it drop." She sighed.
"Lucius Malfoy is a very dangerous man."
"So I've been told." She shot back.
"You cannot imagine the things he could do to you." Snape warned.
"I'll try, I'm sure what I've heard will be enough to inspire my imagination."
"The stories you hear are from the times when his wife was alive." Snape corrected her. "He was more," he paused, searching for the right word, "reserved, if you can even call it that."
"What's your point?"
"He always stopped short of rape."
"And that is supposed to interest me how?" she played disinterested, hoping that he would reveal more to her the more exasperated she made him.
"He left that to the depraved likes of Dolohov and Rabastan Lestrange; I always thought the he saw it as a betrayal of his wife. He would have his fun torturing them and would then allow the others to work. Now, however, with his wife dead…" his voice trailed off, allowing her to form her own conclusions.
"I still see little danger if I am here, Professor."
"Do you have any idea what he will do to you?" Snape hissed in her ear. "I have seen him work, Miss Potter, and I'll tell you that he likes to keep his prey alive as long as possible."
"I wonder why you say this when I am perfectly safe here?" she knew she was annoying him, of course she understood what he could do, but it was fun to watch him try and control his anger.
"Life seems to throw you into situations where he is, inevitably, likely to be. Where you are away from the protection this castle offers."
"I still fail to see the reason you trouble yourself over this."
"Stop playing stupid." He spat angrily. "Because you are not."
"I'm sorry, was that a compliment?" she replied in the same acerbic tone he used with his students.
"Do you know what he'll do to you?" he growled so no one else could hear. "Can you even imagine what he, if given the chance, can bring himself to doing?"
"I already told you that my imagination was sufficiently equipped to do so, Professor." Her tone was curt and, although she did not show it, she was growing more uncomfortable by the minute. She was too focused on keeping her mind concealed from his unrelenting stare.
"The touch of a jealous and cruel man is a lot different to that of one in love." The grip of his callused hand on her back was unrelenting and she found herself unable to pull away. "He will not care about your age and nor will he shy away from causing you pain."
"I wouldn't doubt that."
"You make light of it now, Potter, but you will swiftly change your tune when you cannot escape him." He seemed to smirk at the thought. "I doubt that the rumours that have spread around the school about you are true. I suspect that whilst your brother and friends have given in to their raging hormones, you have not."
"What are you implying?" she asked, anger permeating her voice.
"You may not think I would notice the goings on in your trivial lives, but you have been unattached since half way through fifth year."
"I would hardly call my life trivial."
"My point is that I doubt you would have allowed the morons that have tried to attach themselves to you to touch you in ways he would."
"I would rather not discuss this with you, Professor." She tried in vain to escape, finding it harder to keep her mental walls up.
"You would rather not discuss." He looked at her pensively. "Does that mean he's had you already?" he whispered silkily in her ear.
"How dare you." She whispered back, her eyes burning with rage. "What in Merlin's name makes you think me possible of such a thing?"
"Your full throated defence only serves to make me even more suspicious." He let a hand graze past her cheek and neck. "Why do you hide your mind so fiercely?" she shuddered at his touch.
"Well, your apparent murder of Professor Dumbledore made us suspicious too." She shot back in a caustic, unforgiving tone. "And because I have the right to keep my mind from unwanted invasion."
"Fine." He let go of her as the song ended and she made to stalk angrily away. As an afterthought, he grabbed her wrist before she was completely out of his reach and yanked her back towards him. "But do not blame me for not giving you any warning."
"Do not worry yourself over that, Professor; I will not hold you responsible." She pulled her arm free of his grasp and stalked off in a swish of red skirt and twinkling diamonds. "It's just that your warning came two years too late." She muttered to herself as she walked back to where he was standing.
As the night progressed, she spent a lot of her time on the dance floor; dancing with many of the boys in her year even though she felt slightly insulted that none of them had seen fit to ask her. True, she would have said no, but she still would have liked to have at least been asked. Of course, she danced with him, and it was then that she felt most at ease. He had the ability to move perfectly and was able to set her senses on fire with the lightest of touches. None of this was betrayed, however, over the course of the evening. Apart from one moment.
She could sense his impatience by the time it reached eleven o'clock and was glad that there was only an hour left for him to wait. Standing on the edge of the floor talking to Luna Lovegood she suddenly felt a hand on her elbow. She turned to see him holding his hand out to her, asking her to dance. She was about to take it when she realised that there were no other couples dancing. The music was soft but seemed to be building very slightly, as if giving a clue as to what may come. She shook her head timidly, feeling a small flush of embarrassment rise in her cheeks as she did so. In response, he raised his eyebrows and gave her a pleading look for an instant. She shook her head again but took his hand all the same and allowed him to lead her out to the centre of the dance floor. He was impressed by the clever little charade she had acted as he took her in his arms; the shy young girl feeling slightly awkward at being asked to dance alone.
Naturally, she relaxed in moments as he moved her slowly around the floor.
"People are staring." She murmured as they danced.
"I know, let them watch." His apparent lack of concern worried her.
"This is dangerous."
"Live a little." He gave her a small smirk. She did not have the chance to reply as the music abruptly sped up into a much more passionate dance. She forgot the many pairs of curious eyes as she let him move her with the music. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, who had been sitting at the edge of the hall, were distracted from their conversation by the large crowd encircling the dance floor. Peering through the sea of heads, Harry could make out the distinguishable blond hair and red dress that was his sister and Lucius Malfoy. Harry cringed at the embarrassment Kathryn would be feeling at being made to dance in front of everyone. He pushed closer to get a better view. The music was getting faster and faster, more and more passionate until it stopped and only the violins played a long, quavering note backed by a drum beat. Here, his sister spun round for the entirety of that note; her dress flying elegantly out around her legs before he pulled her back to his chest. After this the music reached its peak and, looking into his eyes, Kathryn could feel the passion and desperation of the music that seemed to reflect on their situation.
By this point nearly everyone in the hall was clapping along with the racing beat of the music, making the music even more passionate than it had been before. When the melody finally stopped, this turned into raucous applause for the pair in the middle who were now very close. One of his hands was splayed across her back whilst one of her arms was draped around his neck and a leg twisted slightly around one of his. Not taking his gaze off hers, he gave her a small smile, before stepping back, bowing to her, and bringing her hand to his lips. She returned his smile as people flooded back onto the dance floor once the music started again. A slight blush creeping onto her cheeks, she headed over to the nearest table where there were full glasses of red wine waiting. She drank half of it quickly before walking purposefully towards the doors and out into the gardens for fresh air.
Scouring the hall for her, he caught a glimpse of the hem of a red dress disappearing around the door and followed quickly. He found her leaning on the stone balustrade of the steps, sipping her wine and looking out into the night. Her face was contemplative and he knew that their thoughts were exactly the same. This was possibly the last time they would see each other. The next time they met they would be probably be locking wands on some distant battleground.
"A galleon for your thoughts?" he asked softly as she sipped the last of her wine.
"My thoughts are worth more than that!" she responded playfully, vanishing her empty glass with a wave of her wand. "But I will humour you." She walked further down the steps and into the garden. "It's coming soon, isn't it?" he merely nodded in response. "We thought so."
"I take it that it is the prospect of facing death that depresses you."
"I think not." She retorted." I have looked death in the face before, I am certainly not afraid."
"Then why the glum face?"
"What bothers me is what happens if we survive." Her tone did not invite an answer; she did not want to think about it. Taking her hand, he waved his wand and a gap appeared in the hedge. Pulling her through, it resealed itself instantly, and he walked over to the castle wall with her.
"Live now." He told her as she leaned against the cold stone. "Not in the past, nor worrying about the future." Gently, he held her and touched his lips to hers.
"People will hear." She chided him in a hushed voice as he pressed closer to her, his hands sweeping across her back and sides.
"Fine." He replied in a sulky tone. "I'll be quieter then." His lips moved down to lightly feather across her neck, causing her to gasp and throw her head back as they reached her throat.
"Really," she managed to gasp, "they'll miss me soon." Pulling away from his clutches, she slipped beneath his arm and back towards the hedge.
"You always spoil my fun." He growled playfully, making to grab at her waist.
"Only when inappropriate!" she laughed, wagging a finger at him. "You seem to have a tendency to forget where you are when you want to rip my dress off and I am not running through the Entrance Hall in naught but my knickers and stockings." She told him in a hushed whisper as they walked back through the hedge.
Most people were inside dancing so the gardens were fairly empty as they walked through, her hand held gently by his.
"What if we lose?" she whispered in quite a frightened voice as they drew closer to the steps.
"What do you mean?"
"What if we lose?" she asked again. "If we lose but I survive?" she elaborated. "Not that I entertain the thought that we will not be successful," she explained very quickly, "but the possibility had crossed my mind."
"I would be lying if I denied that I hadn't thought of it too." He admitted. "However, if the Dark Lord does win, and you do survive," he went on, "I entertain little hope of you surviving for a prolonged period of time." She was surprised at how blunt he was being.
"It's what I had expected." She nodded, stopping in her path. "Do you really think there would be no hope?"
"Well," he mused, "to the victor go the spoils." He voiced the famous saying.
"Is that what I would be?" she asked in a strangely detached voice. "A prize? A trophy to remember your victory?"
"Quite probably."
"And what about you?"
"My standing in the ranks of the Death Eaters is the highest and, make no mistake," he turned to face her, backing her into the hedge slightly, "I would do everything in my power to make sure that I had you."
"Then I guess I'm fine then." She gave him a coy smile, although privately not really expecting such an outcome were events to fall like that. She let him kiss her softly as they stood there; half hidden by shadow, taking comfort in these last few hours that she would get to spend with him.
Hermione had stepped outside to get some fresh air, to get away from the sometimes oppressive crowds of the Great Hall. She stood lazily at the top of the steps, leaning on the balustrade looking out over the moonlit gardens until something caught her eye. She stifled a gasp as she saw the unmistakeable figures of Lucius Malfoy and Kathryn standing not too far from the stairs. She watched, her eyes gaping wide in horror, as he turned on her. Kathryn did not seem to falter with this sudden advance; appearing to handle the situation quite well. Hermione continued to look as Kathryn gave what appeared to be a demure, timid smile; she imagined that she was trying to extract herself from the situation with as little fuss as possible. Then, quite suddenly, he darted forwards and captured her lips with his. Hermione really had to stifle her cry as Kathryn did not pull away, but instead allowed the vile man to kiss her; one of his hands lightly stroking her cheek whilst the other settled on her waist.
Hermione turned tail and fled as soon as it was over, not wanting to be caught looking; horrified at what she had seen.
"Patience." she hissed at him as soon as he pulled away. "Don't you care that people may see?"
"No." he replied cockily as they walked back up the castle steps.
"Well I do, so be patient." She chided him playfully, careful to keep her voice at a whisper.
"I guess I can wait another half an hour." He replied in a similarly hushed voice, trailing his fingers lightly up and down her back.
"Good boy," she murmured with a smile, "now for Merlin's sake take your hand away before someone sees." He did not oblige her at first; instead slipping his hand further up until his fingers reached her neck and ran lightly over her shoulders. He gave a small smile as her back arched and then withdrew his hand; taking her arm instead and leading her out onto the dance floor.
Hermione watched her for the last half an hour of the ball. She saw the way her friend laughed and smiled when he spoke, the way she gently brushed her hips against his when they danced and the way she looked at him. Her eyes seemed to hold a mysterious sparkle that was almost a promise of something more for anyone that looked into them. She wondered at Kathryn's ability to fool such an arrogant man; practically bringing him to his knees. She could also see the licentious looks that he was giving her whenever her head was turned and she knew that could only spell trouble. Of course, she didn't know that the seductive gaze held no pretence and that every subtle brush against his hips was sating her desire as well as his.
The festivities ended all too soon; the music fading and Dumbledore once again getting to his feet.
"Well, I am afraid that is where this must end. I believe we all owe our Head Boys' and Girls' thanks for arranging this stupendous evening." The four of them blushed slightly as the whole hall broke out into loud applause and plenty of cheering. They did not even mind that Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins remained steadfastly in their chairs. "And I would also like to thank our Governors for attending," there was more polite applause, the Governors and their partners rising to their feet. She stood also and took his arm as he led her, at the head of the group, out of the Great Hall.
"And now I think a good night's sleep is just what you all need. Good night!" they heard Dumbledore say from within the Great Hall as they crossed the Entrance Hall into the anteroom they had used before the ball.
"That was a most enjoyable evening." One of them declared as soon as the door closed, muffling the sound of the many students returning to their dormitories.
"Oh yes," one of the women added, "thank you very much my dear." They all similarly thanked Kathryn for organising it.
"It wasn't just me," she replied modestly with a gracious smile, "my brother and friends helped too."
"I do believe that you were the catalyst for the whole event though." The man who held her arm reminded her.
"Well, in a way, but it was still a joint effort." She conceded. Most of the Governors were pulling on their cloaks, apparently not staying the night as they had done the last time.
"Are you off too Lucius?" Mr Whitford asked as he fastened the clasp of his black cloak.
"No, I petitioned to Dumbledore to stay the night." He explained why he was not donning his cloak. "The manor is rather lonely nowadays, especially in the evenings. I will just escort Miss Potter back to her dormitory, it is not safe to wander the corridors alone at night at the present time, and then I will retire for the night"
"Of course." Mr Whitford gave the man a sympathetic smile. "Well, good night both of you." They bade the rest of the Governors farewell and were, finally, alone. Kathryn, after a few minutes, opened the door a crack and peered out. The Entrance Hall was completely deserted and the huge front doors locked.
"Now," she offered him her arm again, "was there somewhere you were going to escort me?" she raised a questioning eyebrow. He smirked and gave her a small nod, taking her arm in his and leading her out into the Entrance Hall.
They walked quietly, not wanting to bring Filch running if he got wind that there were people out of bed and out of bounds at night. Smiling impishly at him, she took his hand once they were further into the castle and ducked behind a tapestry and up a concealed flight of stairs. She stopped dead, however, when she heard wheezy breathing at the other end of the passage.
"Filch!" she whispered in alarm.
"What's that my sweet?" he said to his mangy cat, Mrs Norris. "People wandering the castle. Don't worry, we'll have them." To Kathryn's horror, she realised that he was about to turn into the passage that they were using. Pulling out her wand she waved it at Filch, there was a loud crack and an anguished yell as Filch was yanked ten feet in the air.
"In here, quick." She whispered to the man behind her, pushing one of the bricks in the wall down like a button. Silently, a segment of the wall slid away to reveal a narrow passage, starting halfway up the wall, running off in another direction. Obediently, he climbed in as Filch let out another angry cry.
"PEEVES!" Filch cursed the poltergeist that he assumed was holding him in mid air. "I'll have you out for this!" there was a loud crash as Kathryn muttered the counter curse and lowered her wand, sending Filch dropping to the floor in a heap.
"Hurry!" he muttered to her, holding out his hand, as they heard Filch getting to his feet. Grabbing his outstretched palm, she hiked the bottom of her dress up and placed one stilettoed foot on the rim of the high step. In one fluid movement, he had pulled her up into the second passageway and into his arms only seconds before Filch crashed through the tapestry. In his haste, the caretaker had not noticed the rather obvious hole in the wall. Silently, she reached out her hand and touched one of the walls and, moments later, the stone doorway slid shut; leaving them in total darkness. With another wave of her wand, flames sprang up in previously empty candle brackets mounted on the walls.
"This way." Taking his hand she led him on.
"You know this castle better than Filch." He commented in amazement as they walked.
"I had the Weasley twins to teach me, didn't I." she reminded him as they came to another solid wall.
"Aperui." She murmured and, as before, the wall slid away. Politely, he jumped out first before reaching up and lifting her down.
"Not bad." He told her, seeing that they were now standing on the landing of one of the staircases.
"Arcanus." She murmured the incantation that closed the wall. "Yes, well, just keep walking before Filch comes back." She told him, taking his hand and leading him up the stairs and into another passage. She could not help but laugh as, in the darkness, he tried to reach out for her; generally missing by a few feet. He succeeded as she pulled him through another passage, concealed by a heavy tapestry; pinning her against the wall and capturing her lips in a smouldering kiss. He knew that such behaviour was very risky; especially with teachers on patrol through the corridors. At that point, however, as they neared the seventh floor; he was too possessed by desire to think rationally.
"Hurry up." She whispered as he paced three times before the blank stretch of wall. Moments later, a heavy wooden door appeared and they darted inside as the sound of footsteps drew ever closer. Barely moments after the door closed and locked behind them, Snape walked down the corridor; certain that he had heard something but finding no one. Cursing his bad luck, he had hoped to find Potter, Weasley or Granger up to something; he swept off towards the stairs to the sixth floor.
"That was a very near miss." She breathed a sigh of relief once the sound of Snape's footsteps faded. She sat down on a stool before a mirrored dressing table and began to remove the jewellery around her neck and in her ears. Moving to stand behind her, he caught her hands in his as she reached to undo the clasp of the diamond studded necklace.
"Let me." He whispered in her ear. Obediently she let her hands fall and allowed his to trail beneath her hair whilst his teeth found the sensitive flesh of her earlobe and bit down gently. He laid the necklace next to the earrings and bracelet that already sat on the dresser, his hands then moving to the tiara that was still perched atop her head. Her hand followed his up and she stared at her reflection in the mirror.
"I don't think Draco noticed," he commented as she ran her fingers over the rows of flawless diamonds, "the boy doesn't really bother himself with the more elegant of our family heirlooms." His lips curved into his familiar smirk as he placed the circlet alongside the jewellery and she ran her fingers through her hair.
"Well, no wonder he hasn't caught on to what you're doing!" she said in an amused tone, getting to her feet and turning to face him. Smiling; he shrugged off his jacked and laid it on the stool she had just occupied. She giggled slightly as he toed off his shoes and bent to remove his socks.
"What's so funny?" he asked.
"Just you, taking off your socks, is a weird thing to see." She giggled even more, stepping out of her shoes and waiting to see what he did next. Kneeling down before her, he slid a hand beneath the hem of her dress.
"Now, let me see." He murmured as his hand ran up her leg and thigh until it reached her hips. "Here we are." His fingers deftly released the clasp that held the lace belt and she felt it fall and hang against her legs; still attached to the silk stockings it had been previously holding up. His other hand joined its partner and they slid languidly back down her legs, drawing the stockings down with them until they reached the floor. Shaking her head, she stepped out of them and kicked them aside as he got to his feet once more.
"Happy now?" she asked with a smile as his arm reached for her waist.
"Indeed." He gave her a sly smirk as he pulled her closer, his fingers drawing lazy patterns onto the exposed skin of her back whilst his lips trailed along her throat. She shuddered slightly as his hands moved lower and found the laces that held her dress in place. His lips did not move from hers as he undid them with a small tug and the dress fell limp. Her hands, meanwhile, had expertly undone the buttons on his shirt and were caressing the soft skin beneath. Stepping carefully backwards, he led her over to stand by the bed; her dress only remaining up due to the way he held her to his chest. Stepping away from her, the many layers of chiffon fell away and landed with a soft rustle on the rug beneath their feet. Clad now in only a scrap of black lace, she gave a slight quiver as the cold air hit her, before sliding her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his.
His shirt slipped from his shoulders and pooled on the floor at their feet; her hands forcing the soft cotton past his elbows. Her entire body seemed to ache with desire and she was grateful when she felt muscles ripple beneath her fingers and he lifted her off her feet. Shamelessly, she wrapped her legs around him as he laid her down on the dark blue sheets, pulling him down with her.
"And you lecture me on being patient." He whispered into her ear as his hands tugged the scrap of fabric off her. "Hypocrite." His hands moved lower and lower on her body; inducing the cries of pleasure that only he could. He delighted at the way she arched to his every touch and she silently cursed him for making her want him so much.
"You're making me ache." She moaned in his ear, her lips running across his neck.
"Well, we can't have that, can we?" he smirked, turning her to lie flat on the mattress and settling himself between her legs.
They came together that night as if they had never done before and they never would again. Every touch and kiss was passionate, yet laced with desperation; the pair of them knowing that they may never see each other again after this night. Try as she might, she could not help the tears that rolled silently down her flushed cheeks. He bushed them away with the pad of his thumb, hugging her soothingly; he did not want his last memory of her to be unhappy.
She did not leave him; she did not scurry back to her dormitory in the early hours of the morning as she usually would have. Instead she lay nestled in the warm curve of his body, not wanting to leave him until she had to. He lazily ran his hands through the soft waves of her hair as she slept; wondering if he should just steal her away to his manor until the war was over. Of course, that would be impossible; his master having impressed upon all of them how important it was that both the Potter children faced him. In all honesty, he was surprised that he'd been able to conceal it from the powerful wizard for so long.
At seven in the morning, as the castle seemed to stir to life, she rose and pulled her clothes back on; setting the tiara back on her head and stowing the jewels safely in her bag. Detaching the stockings from the belt, she threw them into the crackling fire and added the piece of lace to the contents of her bag.
"Won't you look a bit suspicious wandering round still dressed in that?" he asked from where he sat against the headboard, indicating her dress.
"Who is going to be up apart from Filch and the teachers?" she asked with a shrug. "And they probably want a lie-in too."
"So why can't you have one?" he complained.
"Because I am not walking through the corridors in my gown when there are loads of people about. What kind of things do you think people will say about me then?" she told him. "I don't need people gossiping about where, and with whom, I was."
"True, especially as I am not here to hear those rumours and feel decidedly smug that I know who you were with." He replied with a smirk.
"Oh you are cruel." She shot back dryly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Without replying, he pulled her down for one final, lingering kiss.
"I really have to go." She told him, pulling herself out of his arms even though it was the last thing she wanted to do.
"I know." He sighed, falling back down onto the pillows.
"See you soon." She whispered optimistically. "Try not to get killed."
"You too." He replied as the door opened and closed and, after she had gone, "I love you."
The castle was eerily quiet and she walked from the seventh floor to the hidden entrance to Gryffindor Tower without so much as seeing another person, living or otherwise.
"Well, where have you been?" The Fat Lady asked with a raised eyebrow as Kathryn prodded her awake.
"None of your business." Kathryn answered curtly. "Surreptitious." She spoke the password.
"Fine." The fat lady swung forward, shooting her an annoyed look as she stepped into the common room. The few people that were awake were too bleary eyed to notice her as she swept up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.
"Where were you all night then?" a voice hissed as soon as she stepped through the door. She looked across the room to see a disapproving, yet slightly groggy looking Hermione giving her a confused look.
"The Room of Requirement, why?" Kathryn asked, feeling slightly less guilty as it wasn't really a lie.
"What were you doing there of all places?" Hermione went on in the same hushed voice so as not to wake Lavender or Parvati. She put her hands over her face to block out the early morning light that filtered through the curtains.
"Sleeping." She replied innocently; again, not really a lie.
"Why?"
"Because by the time I finished talking to the Governors it was two in the morning and I heard Filch saying that he was going to hang anyone caught out of bed to the dungeon ceiling by their ears." Kathryn lied as she pulled on his shirt loose pyjama trousers. "I just headed there because it was closer and saved me causing a shouting match in the corridors." She explained it so easily that Hermione did not argue, instead flopping back onto her pillow and closing her eyes. Kathryn climbed into her bed, tired from the night's exertions but also slightly amused at Hermione. It was only a thought, but Kathryn suspected that she had a hang over. Smiling to herself, she buried down under the covers and closed her eyes, wishing that she was still nestled in the curve of his arm back in the Room of Requirement.