He had been with her for almost three weeks now. He'd never been so well cared for in his life. From food regularly to comfortable furnishings as well her bathing and brushing him often to ensure he was healing.

He couldn't count days. He had his mind, yes, but Ziggy's thoughts and awareness were definitely influencing what he retained here and now. Time was a difficult thing to keep track of in this form. He slept so frequently that it was hard for him to keep track of days and nights.

Obviously, he was aware of days passing. He recognized she (and he) slept, but knowing the difference between yesterday and two or three days ago was hard in this form. She'd told him it was July second when he'd arrived, and it was now closing in on when she was going to attend William Weasley's wedding to the part-Veela witch at the Burrow.

At least something good came out of the bloody Triwizard Tournament! (To think he'd be witness to it was odd.)

She'd mentioned it to him more than once, no doubt expecting him to be gone by now. She had mentioned taking him with her, but he could tell she … doubted she would have to. He was still unable to change back into his human form, and she was his mate so he would go with her to the Burrow.

If he was able to change back? Well, he'd likely still go with her and just stay in Ziggy form until it was appropriate to do otherwise. Likely after the war was over. Nearly August meant nearly nine months from now. Assuming the war did indeed end the day he left Hogwarts.

To say he'd gotten rather attached to this witch - his witch - the past few weeks was an understatement.

And it really had nothing to do with his dependence on her.

No.

She was so sincere.

She genuinely cared about his well being and comfort. And was quite affectionate. That first day was not the first time she'd touched him … intimately. It was always when she was sleeping, so he presumed it was her mind's curiosity at work. And that feeling she'd spoken of feeling in her heart, knowing he was hers even if she didn't consciously know what that feeling meant. Her body and soul recognized that she could touch him in that fashion, even if she wasn't aware of that fact yet. He didn't know enough about mates to say.

He'd woken more than once with his snout nuzzled against a breast and she never pushed him away. She, in fact, always seemed to turn into him rather than away from him. It was … addicting.

Closeness. Affection. Stability.

No torture. No duplicity (well, he wasn't deliberately lying to her). No dunderheads. Her parents were far from idiots and seemed to welcome the interloper (him) into their home without question.

His mate talked to him and, since he was a captive audience (unless he was going to walk away from her, which he found he didn't want to do), he listened. That meant that he came to have a better appreciation of her mind, and how it worked. And how brilliant she truly was. She should be going into her seventh year, and had talked to him about sitting the NEWTs when she could. Nine of them, though she wasn't sure she'd do well on the Care of Magical Creatures one.

All evidence of her caring for him sufficiently to the contrary.

The things she said: when she'd be able to, if she could, and if she had a chance, made him appreciate that she seemed to understand she could not return to Hogwarts this coming school year. He could not help but think if she was not allowed to sit her NEWTs at a later time, it was an absolute waste. It would make him be even more under the presumption the Ministry was filled with dunderheads than he already was.

He couldn't answer back beyond woofs and tilts of his head. Or wags of his tail. However, she seemed to recognize that he was not a dunderhead either, and talked to him as if she had no doubt he understood what she was talking about.

He had vastly improved by now physically. His neck and throat still gave him trouble pain-wise, but that was no reflection on the level or thoroughness of her care. In addition to the sutures the veterinarian had given him, she used healing spells (his own, ironically). His leg and shoulder were practically as good as new. So things like walking and jumping onto her bed were no longer … painful. He still jumped off her bed somewhat gingerly, concentrating to ensure his right side took the brunt of the pressure of his momentum. He still, however, could not shift back into his human form.

"You're stuck, aren't you?"

"Woof."

"But if you're a wizard, which you obviously are versus a witch," she blushed and he could scent her … arousal. Interesting. "Well, are you able to come with us somehow? I mean, I've told you that you can, but you haven't really let me know you can. I'm rather used to sleeping with you by now."

She'd told him by now why she wasn't returning to Hogwarts, and what she and her friends would be doing instead. Hunting the horcruxes his witch mentioned to him shortly before he'd left his original time.

In fact, he hadn't thought much of those last moments in May 1998 before arriving here the past few weeks. A sign he was truly content, which could potentially be dangerous. He had come back here to try to affect change. Perhaps if he'd been accustomed to kindness and nurturing it wouldn't have taken three weeks to put together her older self having mentioned horcruxes and the fact that the three of them were off doing something for nine months. Something that required him getting the sword to them in December.

Her familiar slept with her, but as cats were wont to do, he prowled a lot at night, where Severus as Ziggy stayed by her side pretty much all night long. Occasionally, he got up to see what had captured Crookshanks' attention, or to see what a noise was in a room when everyone was sleeping. To this point, it had never been anything bad. Overall, though, his place was next to and with her. Where he belonged. He truly wondered how he hadn't realized it until recently.

For her familiar's part, they'd come to an understanding: Ziggy wouldn't hurt his witch, and Crookshanks wouldn't use his claws to tear him to shreds and undo his witch's attempts to get him healed. Her familiar seemed to have somewhat of an understanding of the word mate, which he was sure contributed to their getting along. And their getting along contributed to Hermione allowing him to continue to stay.

She was not planning on bringing her familiar with her. She was assuming the Weasleys would look after him while they were gone. She had no idea, at this moment in time, that she wouldn't be back for nine months. For Severus' part. He assumed the Weasleys had kept the familiar. He had no idea. For all he knew, they'd refused and Crookshanks had been off carousing around the castle when he activated the time turner.

If he was a death eater spy, she would have made a huge error revealing all that she had to him. As it was, he was not, and he wanted the bastard defeated. Spy or not made him no difference. He wanted it done.

Horcruxes.

Who knew?

He truly had forgotten about the time in the shack. The things she'd said that day. He'd been more focused on the here and now: why he arrived at this time instead of when he'd been aiming for and why he wasn't able to shift out of his animagus form. And why he'd been brought to her instead of himself.

He pawed at her, burying his nose against her hip. He was rather used to sleeping with her, too. He'd never slept with anyone before, and never realized what he'd been missing. She was as protective of him when they slept as he was of her.

"Is that a yes, you can come with?"

"Woof," he said, letting his tongue hang out. Of course he would.

"I've always wanted a dog. I know you're not a dog and that you're not mine. I know there's something … wrong. I know you're not Sirius. I mean you can't be."

He growled. He absolutely was not. Sirius being deceased aside, obviously.

She tilted her head. "You knew Sirius Black then?"

More growling. He did not like that his witch was on a first named basis with that wizard.

She set her hand against his chest. She smiled, moving her fingers along his chest as he continued his low growling. She apparently liked the way he felt while growling. That was good to know. He liked … pleasing her.

"It's okay." She scrunched her nose a bit. "I didn't like him much, truthfully. He was all Harry had. My friend Harry Potter. Sirius was his godfather. I hoped that with time away from Akzaban he'd mature some. I just know that when he was in Azkaban, he said that he spent a lot of his time in his animagus form. He said it helped with the Dementors."

He woofed again. He understood why that would be. Yes, he was coherent in this form, but it was different. Less taxing on his brain.

"I guess it's a good thing I'm not going back to Hogwarts. I couldn't bring you on the Express."

Of course she could! Not that he wanted her to attempt to return to Hogwarts, but she was wrong.

He barked, jumped up, and padded to her bedroom where he knew by now she kept her wand. Carefully, he took it into his mouth and brought it to her. She took it, regarding it and then him.

He gave a low whimper, nodding his head at her and then her wand. He moved his head under her wand.

"Of course," she said. "I could disillusion you."

"Woof."

"But I'm not going back. I can't, even if I wasn't going with Harry."

"Woof." He was very glad she recognized that fact. He shuddered internally at the idea of either Carrow getting their hands on her.

"I wish I could," she said.

She looked sad, though, and he nudged her hip with his nose again.

What's wrong? Not that she could hear the question.

"Just thinking of what I'm going to do to my parents before going to the Weasleys," she said, as if knowing what the nudge meant. Maybe she did know, she was an intelligent witch. "They won't listen to reason. They're not safe! If I tell them everything, they'll leave all right, but they will take me with them. I'm seventeen, almost eighteen, but still their child. I can't do that, though. Leave. I know I'd be safer, but I have to go with Harry. I can't do what I need to do if I'm worrying about them."

She was absolutely doing the right thing. He wished he could tell her that. He wished he could help her.

He'd had no idea until recently, like three or four sleeps, that she'd done anything to her parents. He knew they were gone, but not why. There were times she'd study or think and not tell him what she was working on. He couldn't read in this form so he had no idea until she'd mentioned it. Or the lengths she'd taken to ensure they were safe.

It was a brave witch indeed who did such a thing. A sign that she truly was caring and loving. 

It was also an indication of her power and strength, that she was able to do such a thing at just shy of eighteen without assistance.

He nudged her mouth with his cheek. She looked at him then and he licked her lips. She gasped with a soft giggle, but didn't draw away or stop him. Her breath hitched as he moved his tongue lower to her chin and jaw before finding her neck. He nipped at her throat and she gave the most wonderful sounding groan. And there was that scent again. Arousal. Musky yet sweet.

Hermione.

His.

"Ziggy," she murmured as his tongue and snout drifted lower into her shirt. She worked a button and then another on the top she wore. He gave a content sounding huff when he realized she wasn't wearing a bra. She didn't always in the house he knew by now.

He drew back a bit, eyeing her for any sign of censure or anything before grazing a nipple with his tongue. Something he'd wanted to do many times when waking up with a breast right there for the taking. He'd always managed to refrain until now. He wasn't a rapist, and if she was asleep he couldn't get her permission. Pressing into him while asleep wasn't acceptance. In this form, his tongue was long and rather rough. Not like a cat's, but certainly different from a human's.

She gave the most arousing groan that lasted for well over a minute (in Ziggy time anyway) as he circled around the button-like peak before lapping at it. Her hands went to his head, scratching both his ears as her knee sought purchase between his hind legs. He adjusted a bit, knowing what she wanted to do (and, Merlin help him, he wanted her to do it), so that her knee brushed against his still sheathed cock. (How pathetic was it that the past month worth of touches on her part was the most attention those parts of him had gotten in either form?)

He glanced up, expecting reproach or revulsion on her face but all he saw was her head tilted back a bit, her eyes closed and her cheeks and neck flushed from the arousal that he could smell even stronger now.

He gave a muffled woof against a breast, which made her laugh. So he did it again. Her knee was busy brushing over his cock repeatedly, definitely encouraging it to wake up and poke itself out of its sheath.

"Ziggy," she murmured, tugging on his ears. He took the hint, not wanting to, but he did because Ziggy or not, he was still a gentleman. She was still his mate. So, he drew away. He whimpered, knowing what was about to come.

Rejection.

Not that he could blame her. Knowing he was in reality a wizard or not, she would not allow this to go further. It would still hurt because he did know!

His witch surprised him, though, shifting a bit so that while he could still pay attention to her breasts she could use her hand on his cock instead of her knee. Cleverest witch of her age indeed.

"This isn't something I would normally do," she murmured and he huffed with a pant. Obviously. He knew that. "I just. I really want to. I certainly didn't want to with Viktor. So, I'm not sure what that says. It feels right. Maybe one day you'll be able to tell me why."

He gave a low yip in response. One day, maybe he could.

Of course it did make sense to him. And, of course, she wouldn't understand it.

He gave an approving howl before returning to his very pleasurable task of licking her breasts and nipples. Feasting was more like it. Merlin, he could do this all day.

Her hand was stroking him and she gasped as she felt the slick tip of his cock. He'd had erections before, in both forms. He wasn't a eunuch. He'd just never had anything but his hand to tend to them, or his mouth when he was in this form. It wasn't something he'd done, though, as he wasn't ever that horny (or curious as to what it would be like) as to bring himself off orally. He knew what she was seeing as she looked, though, and he could sense her head moving closer to him.

If he was in his human form, he'd chuckle because it was such a Hermione thing to do, to give into her curiosities. Perverse curiosities, that likely she'd never tell another soul about, but nonetheless.

He was licking her collarbone at the moment. Merlin, the taste of her, especially when aroused, was better than any sweet. How had he missed who she was to him all of this time?

"I have to," she whispered.

And then he felt a swipe over the tip of his extended cock that was not her finger. He gave an excited whine and his hips moved almost of their own mind, wanting to thrust into her mouth. He had to stop from biting the shoulder he was currently licking.

She swiped the tip of his cock again and he gave the same excited whine in response.

"Hmm," she said, as if finding his response interesting. She then pursed her lips over his pointed red tip and he howled.

Fuck.

She licked him. She was hesitant. He didn't need to be intelligent to know that. He, for his part, wanted to slam his cock deep into her throat and fuck her until those lips of hers were wrapped around his knot. He wanted it on a level so base that he truly had to keep his mind focused on not doing precisely that. He would not hurt his witch. She was absolutely in control of … this.

She shucked the shorts she was wearing before sliding underneath him so her head was level with his cock and his head was level with her cunt. A cunt that smelled delicious. He growled, nudging her thigh with his snout.

"Yes," she said, taking a break from licking and sucking on his cock to tell him what she wanted. What she was giving him permission to do.

He pawed at her knickers as he sniffed, wanting to bury his nose against her slit and his tongue inside of her. He finally caught the fabric with one of his teeth and tugged until it tore enough that he could finally slide his tongue around her clit.

She gave a muffled groan, and he noticed she added a hand to assist in her attentions to his cock. She squeezed the area of his knot, rubbing the spot, and he whimpered, burying his tongue in her cunt to stop himself from forcing his cock deep inside of her mouth.

She tasted as delicious as he expected. His tongue swirled around the inner walls of her and she clenched around him. He huffed at that, panting and she groaned at that. Hmm. He gave a heavy snort again and she wiggled her hips.

Hmm.

He returned his tongue to her clit, sliding over it and around it. Her hips were thrusting against him, pushing further into his mouth.

She cried out, squeezing him a little tighter than would normally be comfortable. He barely paid it any attention as she came undone when he grazed her clit with the front of one of his teeth.

He never realized how … humbling it might be to have a woman trust him enough to let herself go in such a fashion. Especially given the circumstances.

He liked it.

A lot.

Too much.

Oh fuck.

He whimpered, knowing he wasn't going to be able to hold off coming for long. He tried to pull out of her mouth. Wet and warm as it was, he didn't want to, but he had heard women did not like to swallow.

She tightened her grip on his balls and his knot before clamping down on his cock with her mouth. (No teeth, thankfully.) She mumbled something that with her mouth full he took to be no. So, okay then, he would let her be in charge of pulling away.

He howled uncontrollably as he felt his spend leave him in ropey, jerky spurts. He didn't stop howling until he had thoroughly coated her throat, and her lips and face when she'd drawn her mouth away after a minute or so. He was sure it was more than she could swallow, especially since he couldn't recall the last time he'd climaxed even before coming here three weeks ago. Her mouth was back over him, licking and sucking and he returned to what he had been doing with his tongue, teeth, and snout between her legs.

Distantly, he knew he should feel guilty. He wasn't capable in this form to feel that, though. He only knew mate and that they had every right to do this.

He also felt relief. He felt affection. He felt comfort. And he felt relaxed.

Most of all. Dare he think it?

He felt at home.

She moved his cock out of her mouth, licking the sides of it as she continued fondling the various parts that made him a male. Her curiosities continued even though he had finished. He liked that. He wanted her to want to touch him, not just for sex.

"My parents will be home soon," she whispered. She didn't sound distraught or anything, just merely stating a fact.

He upped his efforts then, wanting very much for her to finish again. If he … pleased her, she would let him again.

Right?

He had an image in his mind of licking her cunt in her bed at Hogwarts while Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were none the wiser of what Minerva's pet student was up to. That wouldn't happen, of course, but it was arousing regardless. It would certainly make the next school year enjoyable.

"Mm," she said, squeezing his cock. "You're thinking something that you like."

He huffed, not wanting to be distracted from finishing her off again.

She came a second time as he licked her puckered hole before his nose grazed her clit. That was definitely something he'd file away for another time.

If there was another time.

He hoped there would be another time.

He licked her thigh and hip leisurely as she came down from the second orgasm. She brushed her cheek against one of his balls with a sigh.

"Goddess, I've never…"

He barked.

"You haven't either?"

He gave another bark. How had she jumped to the conclusion that was his meaning?

She slid out from underneath him. Her hands slid along his fur and he huffed contentedly.

She wasn't pulling away. She wasn't leaving him. She was merely positioning herself to see more than between his hind legs.

"Ever?" she asked, head tilted as she seemed to realize her knickers were a lost cause. She slid out of them entirely and grabbed them and her shorts. He, for his part, licked her face clean of any residuals of his spend. Couldn't have her parents coming home to see that!

He barked.

"Hmm. I like that idea."

He whimpered, pawing at her hip. Likely she'd laugh if she discovered he was a just shy of forty year old man admitting that.

"No, really, I do. You're mine."

He howled again. She probably had no idea what she'd just said, or how true it was. Yes. Oh yes, witch, you are mine, too.

Her arm was around him, petting him. She didn't seem mad or angry. Pensive, perhaps. He couldn't blame her. What they'd just done, her not knowing he was her mate, would not be something she'd tell anyone.

"So, I have to go back to my room and find new knickers. Come take a nap with me?"

He looked at her with what he hoped was affection and an affirmative answer in his eyes.

She slid another pair of knickers on when they got to her room, leaving her blouse undone as it was earlier. Her mother didn't come check on her usually when they got home from work and, if she was under her sheet, the fact that it was unbuttoned down past her breasts wouldn't be noticeable.

He hopped up onto the bed.

"Oh, you're getting so much better at that."

"Woof."

"I suppose that means you don't need me anymore."

Oh, my witch, I do. I didn't know I did, but I very much do.

He laid down in what had become his spot on her bed over the past few weeks, panting as she joined him. She spooned up behind him, her chest against his furry back. She drew the sheet around him, which was not usual. He got hot under the sheet and she knew that.

"Just this once, okay," she said as she reached to cup his now sheathed cock in her palm. He wondered if she realized that nightly, since the beginning of this, her hand had found its way to his cock at some point. And he would, of course, stay under the sheet any time she asked him to.

He vowed to fall asleep like this every day for the rest of his life if he could find a way to make that happen.

She didn't move her hand or stroke him as if wanting to get its attention again. She just wanted to touch him.

"Woof," he said as she snuggled into his back. And he panted as he realized, with her shirt unbuttoned as it was, he was flesh to fur against her breasts. He could definitely get used to sleeping like this.

She had errands to run the next day before going to the Burrow, which gave him the opportunity to see if he could apparate in his current form. Or if whatever was preventing him from changing back to his human form would stop him from doing that. She was going to a place that no doubt Voldemort would know about, secret kept or not. Voldemort would have people out and about, trying to get there. To get to Potter and his witch. He needed to be sure, if the situation called for it, that he could get her help.

He was, of course, counting on the fact that as a dog he would be left alone in the event something happened. No one paid dogs much attention.

He concentrated, and was able to take himself to her backyard. Another attempt got him near the pet store they'd stopped at more than once for his supplies. Another attempt found him outside of his own home, wondering what his younger self was doing. (He was already at Hogwarts this close to the new term beginning. A term he would be headmaster.)

And what would he think of this turn in his opinion of, and relationship with, Hermione?

He shouldn't be able to apparate when in this form. As far as he knew, he was the only one able to. Tom, if he was an animagus, which he was not, might be able to. If he knew what to look for in his mind. Gifted wizard he might be, Severus wasn't sure Tom Riddle had the ability at this point to look into his own mind. And no one had ever reported Tom being an animagus in over fifty years.

Albus (who was not an animagus that Severus was aware of) had taught him a way via occlumency to "force" the wizard to the forefront of the animal's mind. He had to concentrate, and it was … risky .

It was this ability that he'd tried to use to force the return to his human form, to no avail to this point. Minerva, who was not accomplished at occlumency, would not be able to do this.

He had to know he could do this much despite being unable to return to his human form. He'd never put much stock in needing to apparate in this form. It had been a fail safe, in case of a dire emergency. He never imagined wanting to use it because apparating in this form felt … weird.

He had never had anything to protect until now to make him think it was a prudent tool to have in his everyday use arsenal.

Potter.

As much as he hated to admit it now, his protection of the wizard was something he'd committed to. He hadn't wanted to, too hyper focused on him being Potter's son rather than a product of Lily and James Potter. There were no feelings involved. It was little more than an assignment.

Truly, it had been so long since he'd even spoken to Lily that there just was no emotional aspect to it. Maybe that made him evil. He had no idea, but didn't think so. Bodyguards wouldn't be emotionally involved in their charges. They weren't thought to be evil for being objective. He considered himself little more than that.

Finding out, too, that he had committed to protecting him only because Albus believed he had to die at the right moment. Well, that had created feelings, but they'd been anger and disbelief aimed at the headmaster. Not Potter.

He would not let her be harmed on his watch. He knew they were only captured once in the time they were gone, and got away. He was aware there was a close call or two as well.

Certainly, he could help it go smoother. He had somewhat of an advantage in knowing what happened in some cases. Granted, his knowledge sometimes was second hand and after the fact. Rantings by a deranged lunatic upset that three seventh years got the best of his death eaters and snatchers.

Repeatedly.

For months.

And the entire time they were gone, they were hunting for the items necessary to end his reign and life. Severus was pretty sure if he'd known what they were doing, he would have hunted them down himself and not relied on snatchers. (Good thing he didn't know, for certain!)

She'd woken him up that morning by letting him lick her mouth and face. And then after he'd been out for his morning business, she'd practically pounced on his cock. This time he was on his back and she looked her fill as she touched and stroked and licked and sucked, making him come in thick ropey spurts again. He'd truly had no idea that could feel so good. No wonder people started wars over it.

She used her hand, petting and caressing his belly as she moved her way up along his abdomen and chest. She still seemed to like his low growls. She kissed the edge of his mouth and he licked her, giving a content sigh at the taste of him on her lips and tongue. He loved that while doing that, she was attentive to all of him.

Distant, way down to where it couldn't escape, was the thought that what they were doing was wrong on many levels.

He was her professor. Her attending Hogwarts in September was irrelevant.

He knew he was her professor.

He was not in his human form.

And yet, those thoughts were buried by the thoughts of Ziggy: love, acceptance, desire, want. MATE. Things that he'd never had or experienced first hand.

This continued in much the same fashion until it was the morning she was set to go to the Burrow. Everytime she went out for any length of time, he practiced apparating and was confident he could, on a smaller scale, make it to Hogwarts. To his human self. If he had to. If he needed to fetch the younger counterpart of himself for any reason. He would do it in a heartbeat.

He did not know day to day what occurred on their hunt, so he would be ready.

He woofed when she grabbed for his leash, growling.

He wasn't actually growling at her but rather at the dog part of him that was overriding his thought process. The bullmastiff part of him did not want to be on a leash and apparated to a home full of a bunch of hormonal Gryffindor students. It didn't matter that his mate was one of them. He didn't particularly care for the Weasleys enough to spend days on end with them!

"You have to have it on until we get to the Weasley's, Ziggy. I can't risk something happening to you if I accidentally let go or something. Once I leave here, I can't come back."

He set his head on the floor, whimpering. He scratched at the floor.

"What?" she asked.

There were times it was incredibly frustrating not being able to tell her things. He wagged his tail with a playful "woof" and decided to show her.

So he apparated from where he was to the hallway.

"Oh my," she said, going to him and petting him affectionately behind the ears. He preened with a rumble in his chest that he had … impressed his witch.

"What happens if you don't get there, though, Ziggy?"

"Woof."

"Oh, I know you think you'll get there, but …"

He licked her face. Didn't she understand? He would get there.

"Ziggy, I can't let you. It's too risky. What if you splinch yourself? From my research you're not even supposed to be able to do that."

He howled.

"Okay," she said, scratching his neck. His tail was wagging almost violently at her attention. He loved when she scratched him. She knew just the right spots. And she clearly wanted to pay attention to him. She wasn't doing it because she thought she had to.

A neck that was practically completely healed by now. Thanks to her. And the veterinarian. Credit where credit was due. She was right in taking him there. There was no way without being able to communicate with her that she could have healed him completely. There were scars he knew. He could feel them when she touched him there. Would that bother her, he wondered? If he was ever able to return to his human form they would be there, too. Then she never shied away from touching the remnants of his other scars. Most weren't as prominent when he was in this form, but he knew they were something she could feel. She'd asked more than once while touching him what had happened. As well as wondering if this blemish or that one hurt when she touched it.

"Do you want to go somewhere else? Is there somewhere I should bring you? Home? Not that I would know how to get you there. I mean, you have to have people somewhere who have missed you."

She drew away then. As if that hadn't occurred to her until now. Now that he thought about it, she hadn't asked since the first day he'd arrived. Had she forgotten about it? He'd never know he supposed. He certainly wasn't complaining.

It also didn't seem to dawn on her that he was here despite being able to apparate. Of course, he hadn't tried until this week because she'd been home with him pretty much non-stop since the day he arrived. He hadn't felt strong enough to attempt apparition until the past week or so.

"Do you?" she asked. She looked both panicked, and as if she might want to throw up.

Why?

She wasn't telling him. For once, since he'd known her, she was saying nothing as to what might be on her mind.

Slowly, far slower than he'd like to admit, he realized she was talking about a witch missing him specifically. He could honestly say he was pretty sure the idea wouldn't have come to him any sooner in his Severus form. Jealous witches were not his specialty, and probably one of his least favorite head of house tasks. Jealous witches about him was not something he had any past history of to know what to do with.

In this form he couldn't tell her there was no other witch.

He whimpered, pawing at the floor as he regarded her with (he hoped) imploring eyes.

"So no one is going to come tell me he's mine is what you're trying to say?"

"Woof. Woof." He shook his head almost violently to tell her no.

"There must be someone who's noticed you've been gone."

He licked her cheek then.

She huffed with a laugh and a pet. "That doesn't answer my question."

He licked her cheek again and she shook her head. He was answering her question. No one noticed because no one knew he was in this time. "Is that a no? You don't have anyone?"

He woofed.

"How is that possible? No parents? Certainly, the professors…" She trailed off here. "I suppose school hasn't been in session. Well, you figured out how to apparate. Maybe you'll figure out how to tell me who you are."

He whimpered softly.

He really didn't want to do that. Whatever … this … was. It would end as soon as she discovered the truth. Mate or not. He was too old. Too jaded. Too damaged.

"I'm sorry. I should have done something to figure that out. I don't know why it didn't dawn on me until today that you must have a home you'd like to get back to."

She drew away then, and her scent changed as she did so. She was … it wasn't sad, but something. He didn't know what it was, or what it meant.

No! Come back!

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I promise. I'll figure it out as soon as I can."

He licked at her hand, tasting the saltiness there that he knew came from tears. Why was she crying? He didn't understand, and gave a soft whimper. He didn't want to be the cause of her crying. She was already upset about her parents.

He reached with his mouth for his fucking leash that she still had in her hand, tugging on it. Fine. He'd go on the fucking leash like an actual dog and be happy about it if she'd stop crying!

"Oh, you're coming with me?"

He snuffled in a huff/laugh combination. Of course he was, if it meant she wouldn't cry anymore. He really preferred knowing she was safe.

"And, Ziggy, in case I didn't say so. Thank you."

He tilted his head, ears perking up at that with a whimper. She was thanking him?

"It was a bad year last year. I'm sure that you know He Who Must Not Be Named came back a couple of years ago and Dumbledore died just a month ago. He was killed by Professor Snape, which I'm still trying to wrap my mind around. He wasn't the nicest person to me, but I didn't think he was a follower anymore. I really thought he was with the Order. He helped guard the Philosopher's Stone. The headmaster trusted him."

Ziggy growled at that. She'd believed in him? Despite the things he's said to her? Despite Potter doubting him at every turn?

"I'm really not sure what's going to happen now. So, instead of spending all of my summer worrying about something I don't know and don't know what to do about, I had you."

Was that why the device malfunctioned? Had it brought him here intentionally? To her? But why?

He was accepted without question at the Burrow. After hours of being cooped up in the house, he'd bolted when Hermione let him out and told him to run. He obeyed. He had to. Her neighbourhood was not conducive to running as he was meant to. He apparated in several jumps to Hogsmeade. He couldn't even think to care about whether she'd be mad at him. He wasn't thinking of anything at all except … freedom. From Hogsmeade, he ran toward Hogwarts at top speed.

Until he got to the fucking Shrieking Shack.

Seeing it made him pause and give a low growl. Anyone observing him would think he was getting ready to attack. It was probably a good thing no one was near him just then. He may have attacked just from the feeling of … fear that washed over him just now.

He'd come closer to dying than he actually cared to think about in that shack. Hermione - that Hermione in the shack with him - had actually helped, though she'd never know that. She helped keep him … focused. He had a job to complete. He'd had to get Harry those memories. He could not succumb to Nagini's venom without doing that, or they would certainly lose. She had talked to him. Been kind to him. Mentioned horcruxes, which titillated his mind a bit to keep it working when it was likely tempted to shut down.

She'd cried over him.

She'd kissed him.

He just wished he knew whether it had made a difference. Had they won? Had Harry died? Had Tom Riddle? He'd never know, he supposed. He had a chance here, being in this time again, to hopefully see that things went better.

For everyone but the Dark Lord and his followers anyway.

To ensure Tom Riddle was well and truly dead this time because imprisonment Azkaban wasn't sufficient for a wizard like him.

At Hogwarts, somewhat exhausted from the exertion running practically the entire way from Hogsmeade caused, he made his way to a small garden that he always liked, going back to his student days. It was so underused that he couldn't recall ever seeing someone else there in nearly thirty years. He always presumed it was due to the fact it was rather small and, other than the garden itself, didn't offer a view of much beyond stone walls. Unless one wanted to look up at the sky. (He'd done precisely that several times over the years.)

He curled up beside a bush in the courtyard, letting the sun beat down on him. It felt good against the areas where he was still … sore. He wasn't even sure why he'd come here, other than instinct kicked in, and Hogwarts was home.

His ears perked up and he let out a low growl when he sensed he was no longer alone. He knew who it was, too, but the growl came automatically. This was their garden, but even in this form he didn't appreciate the intrusion.

"I must really be exhausted," his younger human self said as he took a seat on a bench near him. Wisely, not a bench too close to him. No reproach in his voice. No twenty questions. Ziggy stood with a huff then, padding over to him. He sat, tongue hanging out from the side of his mouth as he panted.

Ziggy observed him.

Himself.

He looked so tired. Years of deception had taken its toll. Never mind the torture. Maybe it was a good thing Hermione only knew him as Ziggy.

Instinctively, his human self ran his hand over his ears and head, passing over his face and neck. Ziggy couldn't help but let out a low, appreciative woof when he scratched all of his favourite spots.

"What has happened to me?" he asked.

The words were said softly. He clearly wasn't expecting an answer. Ziggy tried to think. If this was nearing the beginning of what should be Hermione's seventh year.

Well, yes, he was really exhausted. He remembered it well. The time after Voldemort's return after school let out had not been easy any summer. This one, though, had been particularly chaotic, with Albus' death and Voldemort setting various plans in motion.

He'd found the scars evidently. He wondered what they were going to look like if he was ever able to return to his human form.

"Woof."

"All right. I know you can't tell me. I really don't have the energy right now to transform and communicate with you. I was summoned last night, which did not go well. It never does anymore."

Ziggy huffed, batting his head against his human self's hand. He remembered very well that what he said was true. He wished there was more he could do. Hell, he wished he'd had Ziggy available to him all those months ago.

Silence, as Ziggy took the distracted and instinctive pets he was being given. His human self was clearly deep in thought. He remembered. There was so much weighing on him. How to keep the students (and staff) safe yet not appear as if he cared or as if he was trying to keep them safe. How to keep Potter safe, as he didn't yet know that he wouldn't be back. He truly hadn't believed the Dark Lord's attempts at returning would happen.

On this, he had hoped Albus was dead wrong.

"Does he win?" he asked.

He gave a low whimper.

"You don't know?"

He gave the pleading eye look that seemed to work very well with Hermione's mother.

He huffed. More silence as Severus leaned in and brushed his cheek against his. Two months ago, Ziggy would not have appreciated the gesture. In fact, he was surprised his younger self did it. He must really be sore and raw at the moment.

"Why do you smell like a girl?"

"Woof."

It was a nice smell, thank you very much. And the closest this Severus had gotten to a woman, so he'd take it. Oh, if only he knew!

Silence.

"I don't know what to do," he whispered and Ziggy whimpered. "I thought I'd have more time. I didn't think everyone would think I was a blackguard."

He woofed here.

His witch didn't.

She was on the fence, but she had not completely gone to the side of him being a death eater. Any longer. He huffed, realizing that she likely knew by now he was one at one time.

More reasons he should leave her.

He could stay here. With this Severus and assist him. They could likely assist her and her friends, whether they knew it or not.

"It's going to be bad, isn't it?"

More whimpering.

They sat like that for hours. Or what seemed like hours. His human self said very little. Ziggy shuddered more than once, remembering the … things he'd had to do over the course of the summer after Albus' death in the name of being Voldemort's right hand man.

He put his front paws on the bench Severus was seated on and reached up, licking his face.

"That is enough!"

He licked again.

" What are you doing? Stop it!"

He did it again.

"Yes, yes," he said, finally. This was even accompanied by a soft chuckle. "Thank you."

That was what he'd been looking for.

He couldn't make it better. He couldn't stop these things from happening, but he could let him know he wasn't alone.

This time.

"All right. Time to go start preparing to welcome the hellions back," he said finally and stood.

Ziggy followed him into the castle and started walking away from him when Severus was going in the direction of the dungeons and Slytherin house.

"Where are you going?" Severus asked.

"Woof," he replied and ran off.

"Traitor," he heard his human self whisper.

He didn't sound mad exactly, which was good. He had a witch to get back to.

He fell into a routine. He spent mornings and most of the day with his human self. What those at the Burrow believed him to be doing for hours, he didn't know. Nor did he particularly care. He enjoyed his time with Hermione, tolerated his time with the others. They weren't awful, and the twins were willing to sneak him scraps under the table. (He was fairly certain Molly Weasley was aware they did this.)

She was protected there and not alone. His human self was protected to some degree being at Hogwarts. Not from being summoned, though.

And he was very much alone. So he thought it necessary to spend time with him.

Eventually, he reasoned, his human self would have to be told he had a mate. Hermione. Ziggy noticed a … difference in his human self just from their interactions. Yes, Severus knew he was petting and talking to himself, essentially, but he was still, as day one turned into day three and four, freer with the pets. Ziggy took that as a good sign. Even if his animagus self was leaving nights, Severus still seemed to feel less alone.

He would return to check on his mate before bed and end the night with her. He had no real sense of time in this form, so couldn't say what day it was to remember when he'd been summoned or anything. He knew pretty much only sleeping with Hermione and being awake.

Occasionally, he and his mate would find somewhere to sneak off to so that they could do more than her touching his cock while they slept or him licking her breasts. He … missed the taste of her. The closeness those activities brought with them. The sincerity in her that, for whatever reason, she wanted him. She didn't understand why , just knew that her body was answering the call of his. The call might be stronger with him stuck in this form as he was. He found it difficult to believe she'd actually be attracted to him in his human form.

The evening before the wedding when he got up to leave Hogwarts at what seemed like a little earlier than usual. It seemed earlier because human Severus had not taken dinner yet. He was hoping to lead her somewhere secluded for a while as he was feeling particularly randy tonight, Severus stopped him.

"Where do you go every night? Because I know you're not sleeping here."

"Woof."

"You've come to me these past few days smelling like a girl. The same girl. Who is she?"

"Woof."

He'd know if he took the time to actually try to figure it out, but obviously he hadn't. He wouldn't either. It would be unseemly for a professor to … scent his students.

You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Not yet.

"She allows you to sleep with her?"

"Woof."

"You would prefer to be with her than here with me?"

"Woof."

Absolutely he would. No offense to his human self. He wasn't soft as his Hermione was.

Canine eyes assessed human ones. Severus was thinking about this. That there was apparently a witch he willingly sought out.

"Will I?"

He whimpered. He didn't know the answer to that. He would certainly hope he wasn't that much of an idiot to find his mate and choose not to be with her.

"All right. Go then," he said, sounding petulant as he waved his hand.

He clearly couldn't stop him! He'd have some explaining to do. Actually, both of them would if they were caught. Just as he did that, he clutched the same arm in a gesture Ziggy was very familiar with.

He was being summoned.

For his part, Ziggy's left front leg was unaffected, he was pleased to note. It was the first time he had direct proof his potion worked. He was certain there had been summonses while he was at Hermione's home. He had no physical proof of where or when, though, to say for certain it had worked. Now, though, he knew that he was Dark Mark magic free.

Ziggy watched as Severus gathered the necessary items before leaving.

He stared at the door, whimpering. At a loss as to what to do.

Did he stay and wait? Or did he go? He huffed, padding to the fireplace and curled up in front of it to wait.

He'd been gone for a while. At least he thought he had. Hard to gauge in this form, but the fire was far closer to being out now than it had been when he laid down. He left Severus' quarters, and made his way through the halls to the tunnel he knew he used to get in and out of Hogwarts unnoticed by others. The tunnel that wasn't on Potter's map. Even a day like today when few were on the premises, he used this entrance.

He smelled it then … blood, sweat, bodily waste, burnt flesh, and fear. He howled as he loped to his human self. He licked his face.

No response.

He growled, trying to get a hold of his robes with his teeth to no avail. He ran through the halls, grateful he was fully healed now. He needed every bit of his strength and speed as he made his way out of Hogwarts to the gate and then to the Burrow without splinching himself.

"You're very late," she whispered, reaching for him. It was the night before the wedding, so he was lucky that everyone was sleeping already.

Did she think he would choose to sleep elsewhere? Blasphemous. And yet, how would she know that he wouldn't? He couldn't tell her!

He licked her face, whimpering softly so as not to wake anyone else in the house. He put his mouth over her wrist, biting lightly but not enough to draw blood, and tugged once he was assured she was actually awake.

"Ziggy? Is there something wrong?" she whispered. "Are you hurt?" She sounded legitimately concerned, and more awake then she had been at first. He hated admitting how much he liked that sound in her voice. How he'd been mated with such a caring witch was beyond him because it certainly wasn't in his nature to be that. (Which was why it surprised him every time his human self petted him.)

Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I am.

He remembered this night. He'd woken up in that tunnel several hours later. The only thing that had kept him from sleeping the day away was his own personal form of various potions. He'd been miserable, though, and barely able to look healthy the next day. Weakness could not be seen, or someone, like one of the Carrows, would report negatively about him. That would not do.

"Okay, okay," she murmured.

She disillusioned herself before she even got out of the bed. Good witch, he mused to himself. He found her wand and clasped it gently in his mouth. She took it once they got outside of her room. He'd done that action more than once since that day at her house, and she'd never gotten twitchy at him handling her wand. He wondered, not for the first time, if that was just with him or if she trusted anyone to handle it.

He, for his part, trusted no one with his wand. It didn't really matter that he didn't need it most of the time. Others didn't know that he did not. Lockhart, for example. He could have taken him out with a wave of his hand, but he hadn't. Albus wanted them to duel. He thought it would be good for the students to see.

Would he trust her with it? Interesting question that, as in this form it was a non-issue.

He couldn't keep his mouth on her hand so he had to presume she was following him. Disillusioned or not, he realized he could smell her, so as long as he could still do that he knew she was with him.

"It's cold, Ziggy," she murmured as they had been walking for a bit outside.

She hadn't put a robe on or anything he only noticed now. He hadn't thought to prompt her to. For a moment he allowed himself to get distracted by the shape of her breasts under the night's sky. And the way her nipples stood out, plainly indicating she was more than just chilly. He panted for a moment, allowing himself to look his fill at this witch who was his mate before barking. He really, really needed to get quality time alone with her again soon.

"You need to take me somewhere?"

"Woof."

He really appreciated her mind with their current limited means of communication.

"My house?"

He whined with a shake of his head.

No, he was sure her house had likely already been searched. She'd no doubt saved her parents' lives doing what she'd done. That was probably the hardest thing he'd experienced, watching her cry and worry, knowing that there was nothing he could do. Except not to leave her. He tried extra hard that day to change back. Several times. To no avail.

Whatever was going on with him being stuck in this form, it was being very stubborn.

Several other guesses led to a whine and a low growl from impatience. Finally, he perked up with a yip when she mentioned Hogwarts.

"It's not safe," she said softly.

"Woof," he said.

She yawned and sighed. "All right."

She apparated them to the gates, disillusioning herself again as soon as they arrived. He led her to his tunnel.

"Oh," she said. "Professor Snape?" She glanced at him then. "What were you doing here? How did you find him?"

He growled.

"All right, all right. Not the thing to focus on. I get it. Do I bring him to Madam Pomfrey? Is she even here yet?"

He whimpered, pawing at the floor.

"Okay, lead the way then, Ziggy," she said.

She checked first, to be sure moving him would not cause more damage. It pleased him down to his core, deeper than his belly, that she did that. It meant, maybe, she could care for human him, too. Something he thought was going to be important the longer he was stuck in his animagus form.

That determined, presumably anyway because she didn't say so aloud, she cast the spell to levitate her potions instructor. Well, him. The younger version of him.

He led her to his quarters, which let him in because they'd been keyed to. Ziggy or not. A year  older didn't matter. He was him.

"Ziggy," she said hesitating at the threshold. "I can't be in here."

He just kept walking, leading her to his bedroom. Of course she could be here. She had every right to be. She followed, he noticed.

She let Severus down on the bed then and he whimpered.

"What do I do for him now? I can't just leave him like this. He's hurt."

He padded to the bathroom and barked. She followed, spotting the shelf that had various vials of potions.

"Thank God he labeled them!"

He'd always wondered why he labeled his private stores. It wasn't as if he didn't know what each vial contained. Tonight, he was very glad that he did. He supposed this was why he did, in the event someone else tended to him.

She took a couple with a glance in first Severus' and then Ziggy's direction. Then she grabbed a clean flannel from a stack of them near his sink. She dampened it and returned to Severus' side.

She was gentle as she tended to him. Ziggy paced the floor. She was muttering things, but he didn't get the sense that she was talking to him (or to his human self) but rather to herself.

"Is there something I should be focused on?"

Ziggy woofed, going to Severus' feet, nudging first one and then the other. He smelled burnt flesh and knew it was coming from this spot.

She hissed after removing first one boot and sock and then the other. Thankfully, she didn't seem to question how he knew given he still had his boots on. She also wasn't squeamish.

He remembered this. His feet had been burnt and whipped to the point of excruciating pain, because Hermione Granger had not been captured. Nor had her parents. Severus knew without a doubt that the mission's information had not been specifically relayed to him. Others, though, had evidently been tasked with it, and failed. Severus was included in the punishment because the Dark Lord believed he had been too lenient on Harry Potter's mudblood friend. (The Dark Lord's words, not Severus'.)

She was methodical and careful, healing the wounds as best as she could. She returned to his bathroom to get some burn paste and refresh the flannel she'd taken.

"Since you seem to know where everything is. Socks?" she asked Ziggy.

He led her to the chest of drawers that contained such things.

He gave a low growl when he noticed her blush at seeing and touching Severus' undergarments. (Black boxers, of course.)

"Sorry, I just never imagined seeing my professor's knickers before."

She dropped a pet against his ears before returning to Severus' side. She applied the burn paste liberally once she was assured the cuts had repaired themselves for the most part, sliding a sock over each foot. Of course she'd chosen a pair he'd never worn before.

His feet taken care of, she healed everything else she could see.

Once finished with that, she set about administering the potions. Smart, waiting until she was done with his feet, which needed the most attention. He'd likely wake up after the potions were administered and be irate.

She was patient and methodical here, too, getting him to swallow them.

She levitated him above the bed again, enough to move his bedding and draw it around him. Once he was under them, she cast a scourgify so that the mess on his comforter was gone.

Ziggy whimpered, satisfied then, grateful that his mate had taken care of Severus. He did not like seeing her touch him, though.

Interesting, since he was him.

She went to his living room then and curled up on the couch. He eyed her with trepidation. What was she doing?

"Come on," she whispered, patting the spot next to her. He jumped up, giving a contented sounding huff when she wrapped herself around him, chest to chest and so her head was essentially using his neck as a pillow. Even if he realized it was in an effort to keep herself warm.

He'd changed something. He'd saved his human self from days of pain and misery. He had been summoned again almost as soon as he felt better, too, he remembered. His lack of a full recovery had been viewed as a weakness by Bellatrix.

He shuddered at the very thought of that witch.

"It's okay," she murmured and he huffed.

No, it wasn't okay. His younger self would still be subject to these things. Hopefully, though, between the two of them, they could improve his recovery time, and his mood, somewhat. He was choosing to go with her, as he should as her mate. That meant he would not be here to help every time.

Severus came to slowly, aware of two things as he did.

He was in bed but dressed aside from his boots.

He didn't hurt as bad as he presumed he would. Or should.

Fuck, he didn't even remember making it to his room. How had he? He was sure he wasn't going to make it this time. Sadly, those times were getting more frequent.

He stood slowly, frowning at the socks on his feet. They were a pair Albus had given him for Christmas a few years ago. Severus never wore them, but couldn't toss them as, despite being hideously … busy, they were expensive. He made his way out to his living area after using the bathroom.

The empty potion vials and used flannel puzzled him. He must have really been out of it not to clean up after himself.

The state of his bathroom coupled with the socks, and the fact he was still in his clothes, had him scowling. No one was in the castle, so no one should have even been aware he needed assistance.

He was not prepared to see Miss Granger on his sofa. With, well, himself. They looked rather … comfortable, too. What did that mean? Was she the witch he was choosing to spend his nights with over him? He was fairly certain he was leaving the castle. He had to be if it was this witch. Merlin. Why?

"What are you doing in my chambers," he snarled. He didn't care if he scared her.

He was not prepared for his own animagus jumping off the sofa, snarling, growling, and barking at him . What in the hell was that? She was intruding in his room! Their room! He was taking her side?

"It's okay, Ziggy, at least we know he's his usual self."

"Who in the hell is Ziggy?"

His other self yipped, wagging his tail almost happily.

"Really?"

He had a name? Like a pet? What kind of nonsense was that?

There was that warning growl again. And he knew firsthand the difference in his growls.

"Give me one reason why in addition to taking points for being in my chambers, I shouldn't take them for cheek, Miss Granger."

Of course he couldn't take points. School wasn't in session, and he doubted she'd be here in a month's time when it did start up again. She wasn't stupid enough to come here. That begged the question, though, what was she doing here now. With him. Well, the animagus him who was presumably from the future.

There was that growl again, and he was standing in between the two of them. Clearly, though, his intent was to act as a protector for her, not him.

"Well, aside from the fact you can't take points. You can't wait until the term begins and take them because then you'd get in trouble for having me within your sights and letting me live. So, those facts aside, blame him," she said, gesturing to Ziggy . "He came to get me and brought me to you. I guess if you'd rather be in that tunnel I found you unconscious in, I'll know for the next time not to assist."

"There will not be a next time," he hissed. " Ziggy is hereby instructed to leave me alone the next time he finds me."

Ziggy yipped then, wagging his tail as he walked up to him. He pawed at his feet, nipping at his socks.

"What?"

He pulled with his teeth on one of the socks.

"Stop it! You shouldn't be defending her anyway," he murmured. No doubt she heard him.

He moved to the sofa then, removing his sock that Ziggy seemed so intent on him taking off.

"Now what?"

He butted the foot with his head.

"What?"

"I believe he wants you to notice that I more than just somewhat adeptly tended to the wounds on your feet."

He regarded her, feeling the heat of a blush creep to his face and neck at the idea of her … touching him. Touching him dressed as she was. She appeared to be in her nightclothes.

And nothing more.

"And you have insight into his mind how?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Because he's been under my care since the beginning of July."

He glanced at Ziggy . What did that mean? Under her care? His animagus self obviously wasn't going to provide an answer or insight.

"Explain."

She shrugged. "I don't know what there is to explain, Professor. Er, Headmaster. He showed up in my room one day, unconscious and badly hurt."

"As a dog?"

She scoffed, as if that was the most ridiculous question she'd heard. Ziggy, for his part, went to the witch and Severus watched curiously as she pet him. There was affection there. On both their parts. True affection. Not the type of affection someone had for a pet. What in the bloody hell was going on?

"Yes, Sir. As a dog. I know he's an animagus, but I have yet to see him out of this form."

"How do you know this?"

"Because it was obvious. He understands me, for one."

Severus glanced at Ziggy. "Woof," he said, panting.

"And he is healed?"

"Yes, Sir. My mum and I took him to a vet for the wounds on his neck, throat, and shoulder," she said, moving her hand to stroke the areas he himself had noticed felt … different. Scar tissue. "He was bit by … something. I don't think it was another dog."

Ziggy looked from him to Miss Granger and Severus swore he winked at him before licking her chin and mouth.

She gave a soft laugh, rubbing his haunches and then his back. He noticed a blush on her face and … her eyes met Ziggy's. "Stop," she said, but did not sound mad.

"You can get her back to wherever she came from then, Ziggy," he said, rolling his eyes at the very idea that he'd been domesticated enough to have been named.

And yet, it was clear she was comfortable with him, and he with her. And unless he was younger than him (which couldn't be the case because he would have the scars now), he would know that this witch was his student. Hell, he'd never in his animagus form cared to defend anyone, and it was very clear that he would have defended the witch from himself!

"I need to get rest so I can actually heal."

"Woof."

He escorted Miss Granger out of his rooms then, leaving Severus to examine the work she'd done with his feet. He hadn't been aware enough to check them, but he knew they'd been in rough shape. She'd treated them capably. The wounds he should have had were either healed or on their way to being so.

He huffed, glancing at the door they'd left through.

Why was he with her? And why did they seem to like one another?

Things to think about another time. He needed rest tonight. If his other self hadn't found him … he likely would have sat in that tunnel all night. Bleeding and in pain. Certainly, he would not be in his rooms on the brink of healing and comfortable.

He huffed, returning to his bedroom until it was time to wake up. He'd clean up tomorrow.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com