Behind The Ice, Caitlin/Hermione, NC17 femmeslash
A/N: This fic was born out of the madness that is the Slytherin Rising List. We were discussing pairings we'd like to see developed in SR, and, well, this one was suggested. Finger of blame points firmly at Rosmerta for this one. ;)
Before we go any further, let me state in no uncertain terms that THIS IS SLASH. There will be homosexual activity between two adult women. Yes, that's right. Girl- on-girl sex. If this freaks you out, read no further.
This was produced in a mad 24 hour period back in April - someone was foolish enough to suggest a Caitlin/Hermione pairing, and I took them at their word. This is what emerged. I took it down after someone falsely accused me of plagiarising their fic. Difficult to see how you can plagiarise something when one of the characters is yours, all yours, but there it is (said author had been reading SR for ages and not said one thing about Caitlin resembling their character before). Anyway, said accusations were groundless, but nevertheless the whole episode upset me sufficiently that I withdrew the fic. However, it's an immutable law that once you're sufficiently well-known, the stuff that everyone hated at first publication will become a sought-after rarity, so owing to popular demand on the Slyth List, I'm republishing. Hope you like it, and if anyone even dares to suggest I have plagiarised their stuff without a damn good reason, I shall flame them like no one has ever flamed anyone in the history of the internet.
Rating: NC-17, although I personally would have made it R.
Disclaimers: I only own one of them! The other is JKR's creation.
This fic owes rather a lot in style to Unquiet's A Different Lesson. The Slytherin Gift to Virgins is the creation of Sphinx's twisted mind. It's a bizarre and unusual sexual practice mentioned in her gorgeous Letter From Exile story, more than that I may not say under pain of Severus getting killed off in the sequel. ;)
Spoilers: Read the first two parts of my Slytherin Rising series FIRST so you'll know who the OC is. This story is set after the entire series ends, but there's no spoilers for the real ending. This is what could have happened if SR had ended differently. SR fans, don't worry. The real ending is not given away here - the real ending's far more upbeat.
Behind The Ice
by J. L. Matthews
I can't take my eyes off her. Golden blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight, a finely toned body that, the slower ageing processes of mages aside, does not look like that of a forty- five year old, prowling around the room, every move exuding an irresistible coolness that's proved to be the ruin of plenty before me, she's like some kind of goddess, holding my fate in her hands, my soul hers to damn or save. I know I'm not the first to fall for her, not the first to seek damnation in those brown eyes of hers. But I'm probably the first to feel pity as well.
They call her the Cold-Blooded One. Caitlin the Cold-Blooded. Reputed to be tough, hard, unfeeling, borderline psychotic. I've known this about her since I was eleven, since a background primer on recent Defence Against the Dark Arts achievements first acquainted me with her. I was in thrall to her even then. Idolised her. There and then, I wanted to be an Auror like her, wanted to be a hero like she was. That was eight years ago. I'm nineteen now, and in the first year of the gruelling seven year Auror training programme. Not that I'm a stranger to Dark Mages and their works. I spent my entire schooldays helping my friends fight Lord Voldemort, the most evil of them all. That was last summer.
Hard to believe it's all over now. That peace reigns once more and the evil's finally been defeated. The magical community, for the very first time since I've been part of it, seems happy, free, at ease with itself. Most of it seems at ease with itself. But for those of us who were in the thick of the fight, things couldn't be more different. For some of us, the war still hasn't ended.
Severus Snape was one of the earlier casualties. The most hated teacher at Hogwarts, yet he died a hero's death, keeping the enemy at bay just long enough for Luella to escape after they'd both been captured by Death Eaters in my sixth year. I remember her coming back to Hogwarts afterwards. She'd been missing for a week, everyone had been worried sick about her. I was the one who found her, who first saw her when she walked into school as if in a trance. She didn't say anything, just fell into my arms and held me until McGonagall and Caitlin managed to prise her off me. Caitlin immediately flung her arms round her, before desperately asking her where Severus was, was he all right? I'll never forget Luella's response. She just lowered her eyes, hung her head and said quietly "He didn't make it. I'm sorry, Caitlin. He said to tell you he loved you, always has." I remember Caitlin letting her go in shock, her eyes just staring at Luella in horror, before turning and walking swiftly away. She locked herself in Professor Snape's bedroom and didn't emerge for a week. When she finally did, she was changed utterly. She'd always been tough, always been good at hiding her feelings, but she was also charming, friendly and full of life when she wanted to be. Not any more. Devoid of make-up, dressed all in black, no one ever saw her smile again. Not even Deanna and Luella merited any tenderness now. It was as if all capacity to love had died with Severus. I watched her turn merciless, watched her commit acts that would have seen her given the Dementor's Kiss if she'd been on the other side. Instead, she was lauded by the Ministry as a hero, maybe out of sheer relief that she was on our side. I feared her, yet couldn't stop feeling for her. We all knew by that time that Snape was Deanna's father, that the two of them were lovers. I felt her grief perhaps more than she did, as she set about killing off any capacity for emotion she had left.
And now it's all over, yet I can see in her eyes that it hasn't ended. She's our Unarmed Combat teacher - it always was her speciality. It's her job to make sure that even without our wands, we are still capable of fighting. And she does it frighteningly well. Always impressing on us the need to be constantly aware, to never relax, never let an enemy take us by surprise. I can't help thinking that whenever she says that, she's got more than Dark Mages in mind.
All year I've watched you, Caitlin Tyler. I know your past, Luella told me all the details in a drunken girlie chat one night. I know the secrets that haunt you, know what you've been through, know what turned you into the DDAE's Ice Queen. Some would hate you for the things you've done. I hate what you've done, but I can't help but respect you. Because you're alive still. Your daughter's not. Deanna broke down completely after her beloved father died. She too died in the thick of the action, facing up to Voldemort, prepared to go down fighting if she had to. She was awarded a posthumous Order of Merlin for her bravery, for keeping Voldemort distracted long enough for Luella and Harry to move in for the kill. Brave? I can't help wondering if perhaps it wasn't because she just didn't care any more, because she lacked the courage to take her own life, and Slytherin to the last, just manipulated Voldemort into doing it for her. You showed no reaction, I think by then you'd forgotten how to. Did you blame yourself, for indulging in your own selfish grief and neglecting your daughter's? Or were you just happy that she was reunited with her father at last? Hard to tell, your Slytherin reactions give nothing away. So unlike us Gryffindors, easier to read than a Beatrix Potter book, everything there on the surface, so clear for someone as skilled as you to see. Do you see my feelings? Do you see how your every move bewitches me, how I can't stop thinking about you? Do you know, and if so, will you smile, take me by the hand and show me the way to your most secret places, or will you just laugh in my face, humiliate me and leave me alone with my tears?
"Are you listening to a word I've been saying, Granger?" Your voice shatters my dreams, bringing me back to harsh reality. Of course you wouldn't love me. I'm not sure you even can love any more.
It's the day of our final exam. The assessment will consist of each of us taking you on in single combat for half an hour - if we're still standing at the end of the thirty minutes, we've passed. No mention of what will happen if we actually win. I suspect the thought hasn't crossed your mind.
"Sorry, Ms. Tyler." I mutter, hoping your anger will pass.
"Good." you say sharply. "Letting your mind wander is a habit you all need to get rid of. When you're out in the field, and even when you're not, you need to be constantly aware of what is going on around you. Anything less could cost you your life. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Ms. Tyler." we all say.
"Excellent. You will all wait in the changing rooms in your gym outfits. You will have twenty minutes to warm up and prepare yourselves before I will call you in one at a time for your assessment. Go."
We do as she asks. I sit in the girls' changing room for what seems like hours, waiting for my name to be called. It's like the Sorting Ceremony in a way, except far more nerve-wracking. At last, the door opens and the wait is over. I hear her call my name, cold and imperious. I walk out in a daze.
She's waiting for me, clad in her usual black Lycra exercise gear. She looks incredible. Forty-five? Surely not.
"You know your task, Granger." she says calmly. "You have thirty minutes. Your time starts now."
I don't move in on her immediately. It's what she'll expect. We just circle round each other instead, each waiting for the other to make the first move. This goes on for what seems like hours. I glance at the clock. Only three minutes have passed. Not possible!
It's a bad mistake. She takes full advantage of my distraction, and a well-placed kick sends my legs out from under me. I'm sprawled on the floor and she's on me, wrestling me into a headlock, pinning my arms to my side.
"Bad move, Granger." she says quietly. "Taking your eyes off your opponent, not good form at all. That's a few marks lost."
I grit my teeth and ignore her. Allowing your opponent to distract you with conversation is also not good form. But how to get out of this? My arms are trapped, I'm on my knees and she's behind me. Is there any move that can get me out of this? None that would be allowed in a professional fight. Her words from the beginning of term come back to me. She was holding up a wad of papers. "These, students, are the official rules of fighting from several of the professional organisations that regulate unarmed combat sports in the Muggle world. They teach you everything that is permissible when fighting, and following them will make you an excellent competitor." She had paused, fixing us all with that intense Slytherin gaze of hers. Slowly she'd raised her wand and touched it to the paper, saying "Incendio!" The flames had devoured them within minutes. "But they won't help you win. Dark Mages don't follow the rules. And if you want to survive to defeat them, then neither must you. I tell you now, if I see anyone fighting fair in this class, you'll be severely penalised."
Fighting fair. No Slytherin's ever made that mistake. It's why they make the best Aurors. But it's the first thing they expect of Gryffindors...
I bite down into her exposed arm, hard. She screams in pain and lets me go. I spin round, grab her hair and pull her down to my level. She looks at me, her eyes glittering in anger, yet also rather impressed.
"You fight like a Slytherin." she whispers. "Congratulations, Granger." She deals me a sharp backhander. I'm forced to release her, but it's not over yet. Indeed, the fight is now on in earnest.
We battle on for an eternity, first one, then the other getting the upper hand. Finally, I manage to wrestle her to the floor, straddling her, pinning her arms across her chest. I'm exhausted, but I'm not giving up. She struggles in futility for a bit before relaxing.
"Well done." she says quietly, an amused little smile playing across her face. "Now that's something I didn't expect. You win, Granger. Full marks. As usual. Are you going to let me up yet?"
"No." I say, sneaking a glance at the clock. Five minutes to go. "I'll release you when the time's up and not before. I know what you're like."
"Never trust the word of your opponent. Very good, you're thinking like an Auror already." she says approvingly. "But surely you trust me, don't you?" She smiles her most bewitching smile, and I can feel my resolve start to melt as a strange power starts soothingly brushing away any resistance.
I shut my eyes. The impulse fades. Silently, I thank Luella for teaching me to resist Glamoury. In the time since Voldemort was defeated, it's gone from being a rare, once-in-a-generation-if-that phenomenon to being relatively common. Caitlin also teaches the course on how to resist it, but that's not until the third year and Luella seemed to think I'd need it earlier. Almost as if she knew...
"Stop it. Stop it now." I tell Caitlin. "You're not getting round me that easily."
"Luella has taught you well." she says. I open my eyes. She is no longer smiling, but there is genuine respect there. I feel my heart skip a beat.
"But not nearly as well as you." I whisper. I lean down, finally yielding to temptation, and kiss her gently. She freezes at my touch, but then the impossible happens. I feel her mouth opening beneath mine, feel her responding. I break off immediately, terrified at what I've just done.
"Oh my god, I don't know what came over me. I'm so sorry, Ms. Tyler, I really am." I'm rambling, my mind gone. What on earth is she going to do to me for this? Shaking, I let her go and slide off her, too embarrassed to look at her.
"Caitlin. My name is Caitlin." she says, her voice strangled. She crawls over to me and touches my cheek, turning me firmly yet gently to look at her again. I don't resist.
"Meet me outside the library tonight." she says. "Five o'clock." She lets me go. "All right, I think that's enough for now. Hermione, I'm pleased to tell you you've passed. You can go and recover now."
She turns and walks away without another word. I get up and head for the changing room, her words ringing through my brain. Hermione. She called me Hermione. She said I could call her Caitlin. She wants me to meet her tonight! My heart dancing, I skip happily away as the next candidate goes out to face her.
*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*
It's five o'clock. I'm here, waiting for her to show, pacing the floor with anxiety, keyed up and excited in a way I've not been for a very long time. Not since... Don't think about that, Caitlin. Don't think about Severus, don't think about those black eyes gazing into yours, those arms pulling you close, that unique scent of his, a strange hybrid of musk, exotic herbs, and crispy bacon. Don't think about him.
And yet, I can't help wondering what he'd say if he knew what I was doing. Can't help thinking about Deanna's response. I have this vision of them both sitting somewhere in Elysium, he with his usual glass of brandy, her with a bottle of some weird alcopop concoction, watching all this unfold. (I can't imagine Dionysus coping at all well with my daughter's alcoholic tastes! "Let me get this straight. You want vodka, spring water and lemon juice. In the same glass." "Yes. Why, what's wrong with that? Stop looking at me like I'm some kind of freak. Dad, tell him." "Deanna, the day I stand up for your taste in alcoholic beverages is the day you actually acquire some.") The thought makes me want to laugh out loud. Deanna and Severus taking on the underworld in their own inimitable style. Will Elysium ever recover?
I loved them both so dearly, always will. Not a day goes by when I don't think of them. Just over a year since I lost my daughter, about two and a half since they got Sevi. I thought I was going to go mad. When Severus died, I nearly did. I still feel like part of me died with him. I don't know if I believe in soul mates, but if there is such a thing, Severus was mine. We were two of a kind, him and me. Despite the constant fighting, we understood each other. In the end, we had to forgive each other and make up. I truly don't think there was any other real option for either of us. At long last, in my daughter's seventeenth year, events brought us together and we gave in. I was happy, for a while, the closest to true happiness I've ever known. And then Deanna accepted him as her father, and my life was complete. We were complete.
Over all too soon. Severus was taken away from me yet again, and this time for good. I know we're taught that the ones we love never really leave us, that we will meet and know and remember them again, but that didn't stop me mourning him. Even if (when) we meet in our next lives, he won't be my Sevi. I won't see him strolling in with that smile of his, won't see him waking up next to me, still half asleep and so wonderfully cute, he won't be Severus, ever again. I will always miss him, never stop loving him.
But that doesn't mean I can't love anyone else. This is a new realisation for me. One that came at the beginning of the year, meeting my newest selection of Auror trainees.
I recognised her, of course. Hermione Granger, friend of the nearest things to children I have left. Luella's best friend and confidant since Deanna died, and friend to my godson. Yes, I knew you, Hermione. Or thought I did. The more I got to know you, really know you, the more I realised I didn't know you at all. But I wanted to. Oh, how I wanted to.
I never thought you'd look twice at me, except in fear. I'm no Severus Snape, no student of mine ever suffered unfairly. But I know what people think of me. I know my looks are fading, and Glamoury won't win me love. I know that the popular image of me is that I'm a cruel, cold-hearted, callous, psychopathic bitch who didn't even shed a tear when her only daughter died. Actually, that's not true. I just didn't see the point in doing it publicly. I don't need to prove I loved my daughter.
I wait anxiously for her. Will she come? Will she even want to see me again? Was that kiss just a one-off? Or some kind of dare? Is she even now sharing a drink with Marlie and Ginny, laughing and joking about how she kissed Caitlin Tyler and got away with it? My blood boils at the thought.
Footsteps behind me. I spin round, my Auror reflexes not letting me down. It's her. She's there, that gorgeous mane of light brown hair framing that delicate little face of hers, so childlike in it's nervousness. I want to cup it in my hands, shower her with kisses, reassure her that beneath this icy exterior lies a heart of fire. Just because it's faded to a comfortable glow doesn't mean it's gone out.
"Hermione." I smile. "You made it."
*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*
"Hermione." she says. "You made it." She's smiling. Smiling! Caitlin Tyler, smiling? Happy? I can scarcely believe it. I've not seen her happy since my fifth year at Hogwarts, watching her visit one night, her and Professor Snape sneaking back from a night out in Hogsmeade. Both drunk, arms round each other, laughing over some private joke, or maybe for no reason at all, the way lovers do. I watched him pull her into an embrace suddenly, gazing at her with an intensity that thrilled me at the same time it made me burn with jealousy. She smiled back at him, that bewitching smile not seen for a long time, and he pulled her closer for a kiss. A real kiss, not some shy, tentative teenage effort, but a proper kiss, an adult kiss, the kind of kiss I could only dream of giving or receiving. Eventually, they'd broken off, but only for an instant, before they were back in each others' arms, unable to keep their hands off each other. Finally, she'd broken away and taken him by the hand, saying something to him and leading him inside. Watching from a window in Gryffindor Tower, I could only imagine what they got up to next.
I didn't think I could hate anyone, but I hated Snape in that moment. What had he done to deserve her? What did she see in him? I never did work it out. Not even when Luella finally filled me in. In fact, I understood it even less after that. How you could forgive what he'd done, I will never fathom. But I can understand what drew him to you.
"Caitlin." I say your name breathlessly, hoping it'll prompt you to use mine again. "Hello."
She laughs gently. Reaching out, she takes my hand. "Come." she says, with a kindness I didn't think she was capable of. "You don't need to explain, you Gryffindors never could hide your feelings. I know what you're after."
"You do?" I whisper, dizzy with excitement. Dear god, please, let her want this too.
She nods. "Follow me." She leads me outside, not saying anything, trusting that I'm right behind her, waiting until we're back in Diagon Alley, outside the DDAE's Apparition wards. She takes my wrist in her hand and casts a transportation charm, the kind we use to move prisoners around, over me.
"Where are you taking me?" I ask, afraid suddenly. Was this a mistake? Was I wrong to trust her? Maybe she's really as unhinged as everyone says.
"Home." she says gently. She seems to sense my fear. "Hermione, don't worry. I won't hurt you. Just relax. I swear, you'll be fine." Her eyes meet mine. "No, I'd never let any harm come to you." she says softly.
We Apparate back to the little bungalow in Surrey where Caitlin has lived these past twenty years. She releases me, and leads me inside. Once in, we turn and face each other, neither saying a word. I know why she's brought me back here, and yet I'm too shy to ask.
Once again, she reads me effortlessly. Closing the distance between us, she pulls me against her and kisses me. I'm gone, melting, my mind disintegrating as her lips are on mine, her tongue exploring me with all the skill of an expert. I hold onto her, clutching at her robes in a vain attempt to stop myself collapsing from sheer pleasure. This, this is a real kiss. The kind Snape gave her that night. And now I'm in his place.
She backs away, her eyes blazing with passion. "Aphrodite, you know what you're doing, don't you!" she whispers. "I don't know where you learnt to kiss like that, but it doesn't bother me." She leans closer, to whisper seductively in my ear. "Let's find out what else you learnt."
I can't reply. I'm incapable of speech, my mind is reeling. This time yesterday, I'd never even been kissed before, and now I'm in the arms of Caitlin Tyler. All my dreams are coming true at once, I can scarcely believe it.
She's kissing me again, this time far more slowly. Strange how she can combine such ferocity and tenderness. She's running her hands through my hair, moaning softly. I begin to lose my shyness, and start kissing her back. At length, we break apart.
"I love you." I whisper. She draws in a breath, her eyes widening. Then this bittersweet little smile.
"You barely know me." she says, a hint of derision there.
"I'd like to though." I reply, desire overcoming any trace of fear. "Oh, dear god, I'd like to."
She doesn't respond. Taking my hand, she leads me into her bedroom.
*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*
The room's gorgeous, but surprisingly plain and tidy, as if she doesn't spend much time in here. White, dominated by a large wrought-iron four poster bed with soft white sheets and transparent bed hangings. There's a few books by the bed, mostly DADA textbooks though. There's also a photo of her and Deanna, clearly a professional shot as they both look stunning, and another of her and Snape. She swiftly reaches out and turns that one round.
"There's nothing more off-putting than having your ex watching you make love." she comments. "Especially when that ex is Sevi. You have no idea what he was like, none at all. Absolutely incorrigible." She turns her attention back to me. "You're nothing like him. Stay that way. I'd like a straightforward romance for once."
Romance. She wants a romance. Not a one-night stand. Strike me down now, Fates, end my life here and now, it can't get any better than this. I cry out, trembling, as she reaches out and kisses me again, before beginning to undress me with a skill and precision that speaks of much practice. Doubts start creeping in. Suppose I'm no good at it? Suppose she hates it? I've never done this before with anyone, suppose she turns round and sneers at me afterwards about how useless I was?
She stops, sensing a change in me. "Hermione?" she asks, concern in her eyes. "What's wrong? Am I moving too fast?" She looks troubled. My doubts vanish. She wouldn't do that.
"No." I say. "No, everything's fine. It's just that... I've never done this before." The admission causes me to look away, blushing. Well, it's out now. At least she's been warned.
I hear her chuckle. "Hermione, I didn't really think anything else. I'm not expecting the Slytherin Gift to Virgins, you know!"
"What's the Slytherin Gift to Virgins?" I ask in bewilderment.
"Me." she grins lasciviously. "Now lie back and enjoy." She pushes me back onto the bed and strips down to her underwear. She may be the same age as my parents, but my god, she looks amazing.
She's leaning over me now, hands on my shoulders pinning me down, eyes burning into mine. She kisses me once, then again. Lowering her body onto mine, she takes my face in her hand and bends in for a deep, slow, languorous kiss. I wrap my arms and legs around her, thrilling to the warmth of her against me. Her fingers are tracing a web of fire along my side, moving further and further down.
She slides off me, now lying next to me, one arm around my shoulders, the other brushing across my thighs before resting between them, her hand stroking me gently. I reach out and wrap my arms round her waist, pulling her close to me.
She's smiling, that look of amusement I've come to know so well. "Enjoying it so far?" she whispers, laughter in her voice.
I nod breathlessly. "Yes. Oh yes." She kisses me again, laughing. "Do you want more?"
"Please." I beg her.
"All right." She's kissing my neck now, the tip of her tongue flickering against me, the edges of her teeth scraping the skin there, a little trail of painless yet thrilling bites. I'm running my hands over her, gasping, unable to do anything but luxuriate in this pure state of bliss. And yet I can't help wanting more.
Her hand's still in place, still stroking the soft down between my legs, still hovering tantalisingly, promising so much, but not yet delivering. I shift impatiently against her.
"Easy there!" she murmurs, nibbling my earlobe. "Hermione Granger, I had no idea you were such a little nympho. You surprise me. Who would have thought," she pauses, her fingers sliding downwards, expertly massaging the soft flesh hidden there, causing me to cry out, "that beneath that demure, bookish exterior lurked such a brazen hussy?" Her eyes seem to de-focus and this blissed-out smile appears on her face. "Damn, you feel good. My god, you feel amazing." she breathes, pushing that bit harder.
I don't reply. I can't. I'm long past speech now. I don't know how she does it, how she manages to stay so cool and in control. Holding her as tightly as I can, I bury my face in her hair, digging my nails into her back. She winces but doesn't stop, her other arm holding me close against her. Her thumb is still toying with me, while her fingers are sliding inside. I stifle a scream, shuddering with ecstasy. She's breathing deeply herself, murmuring my name, moaning gently, her skin covered in a film of sweat, flushed with desire. Suddenly, right as I'm poised on the edge of paradise, she withdraws her hand, leaping up, letting me fall back on the bed.
"No." I whisper. "Don't stop, please!"
She shifts position, moving away from my head, stroking my thighs lovingly. "Really? You really want me to continue?"
"Sure?" Her voice is cool and seductive, typical Slytherin tease that she is.
"Oh god, yes. Yes!" My breath's coming in ragged gasps. I'm desperate for her to touch me again, I'm furious at her for stopping when she did.
She laughs again, that enchanting sound that alternately makes me love her and hate her. "Ha! Like I can resist you. You say I'm beautiful? Have you looked in a mirror lately? My god, Hermione, you are amazing. So sweet, so vulnerable, so... irresistible." She stops. Our eyes meet. There's a spark, a connection between us. The coldness, the icy exterior, that's gone. It's as if the heat of passion's burned away the glacier that she's spent most of her adult life encased in. She's gazing at me, her eyes gentle, her features softened, the pain that had been etched so deeply into her fading away before my eyes. I don't think she's ever looked so beautiful.
"I love you, Hermione." she says, before bending down. I throw my head back, crying wordlessly, my hands clutching at the bedcovers as her lips touch me, her tongue oh-so- tenderly seeking out my most intimate places. Losing myself in this pleasure, able to do nothing but lie back and soak it in, I gasp her name over and over again, sobbing as she finally finishes what she started so long ago and completes my every desire.
*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*
She's nestled in my arms now. I'm reminded of how I felt holding Deanna in my arms, so very long ago. Same feelings of love, same desire to lavish every care and attention on her, same commitment to die (or kill) to protect her. That went well with Deanna, didn't it? When it came right down to it, I couldn't save her. I saved so many lives, but couldn't protect my own child.
Stop that, I tell myself. Deanna wouldn't want you to be miserable. She gave her life freely for her friends. Just a little too freely, I feel. At least she's with her father now.
Hermione stirs. I can't tell if she's awake or not. Her eyes are closed, and she's lying still, arms wrapped round me, this blissfully innocent smile on her face. I kiss her hair gently. I do love you, Mione. I really do. The realisation hits me like a slap in the face. Hugging her impulsively, I realise that I'm grinning insanely and just can't stop. My eyes drift to the photo of Deanna by the bed. She's got her eyebrow raised, in that teasing manner she could only have inherited from Sevi.
I wonder if they can see this. I wonder if they know that I'm happy. Once again, I can see them watching from the afterlife, no doubt laughing and wishing us luck, although if Sevi has even a shred of decency left, he will have covered Deanna's eyes while we were making love. There are some things a girl should not have to see. Too much to hope that he'll have averted his, of course. Men, they're all the same.
Hermione stirs, yawns and opens her eyes. She immediately starts to see me there. Her face melts into the most amazing smile I've ever seen.
"You're here!" she whispers.
"Not likely to be going anywhere, am I?" I murmur. "I do live here after all."
"I thought..." she begins. "I thought I'd been dreaming."
I shake my head. "No. No, you weren't. I'm here, Mione. Believe it." I smooth her hair, kissing the top of her head again. "And I'm all yours."
Hermione doesn't answer. It's like she's too emotional to speak. At last she finds her voice.
"I've idolised you since I was a kid." she says quietly. "I wanted to be just like you when I was older, you just seemed so brave and all-powerful."
"Brave?" I laugh. "Bravery's your speciality. Don't think I'm courageous. Most of my actions were driven either by revenge or because I didn't value my life highly enough to think it worth preserving. Please don't think of me as some kind of hero, because I'm not. Far from it."
Hermione frowns, her eyes fixed in a stubborn look I'll come to know all too well over the coming months and years.
"I don't believe you. You're here, aren't you? You lost the man you loved and your only child, and you're still alive and sane. I wouldn't have dealt with that at all. Everything that's happened to you, everything that's gone wrong in your life, how many others would have coped with all that? I think you're one of the bravest people I know. And I don't blame you at all for turning into Caitlin the Cold-Blooded."
"You don't?" I'm surprised. Precious few have ever taken the time to understand me.
"Of course not. Why not hide behind the ice? You need ice to numb the pain, stop you going nuts while the wound heals. Basic medical practice. Learnt that in the Survival course." Hermione says, loving the chance to show off her knowledge.
"Very true. But I don't think I need it any more." I say, stroking her cheek, unable to take my eyes away from that pretty face of hers.
"No," I breathe softly as I lean in to kiss her again, "I don't think I need hide behind the ice ever again."