All my instincts, they return,

A grand façade, so soon will burn,

Without a noise, without my pride,

I reach out from the inside…

(You are the) resolution of all my weaknesses…

"I miss you," she breathed, her eyes still closed.

"Knut for your thoughts, T--Tessa," whispered a voice from behind. Tessa's heart seemed to stop and her eyes fluttered open. For a long moment, she didn’t move, happy enough to stare at the duvet.

"Cruel Fates, why do you mock me?" she asked in a trembling voice.

"Maybe they like watching you get all red-faced and p--pissed off," Peter said with a smile. "Lord knows I did. Turn a--around, love, and look at me."

Her fingers gripped the duvet. She wanted to comply with the voice behind her and yet she didn't. Surely her mind was playing tricks?

"You're a ghost," she said in a barely audible voice.

"Like the s--sand through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives, Scrabble Queen," Peter gibed. "You c--can either keep wrinkling the bedspread or you c--can come over here and throw you arms a--around me. Up to you, really. I know what I'd choose. Come on over here and kiss the ghost of Christmas present! Emphasis, of course, on present!"<

It was him, she thought as she turned around. Nobody else was that slick!

Peter stood before her, a wide grin upon his face, his eyes twinkling with devilish merriment. He opened his arms and Tessa rushed into them, sobbing.

"I need you," she said simply as she clung to him.

And I you, my darling, Peter thought with a heavy heart. To know that I will spend eternity without you is a fate worse than Hell.

He held her tightly, stng hng her hair. Aloud he said, "This isn't real, Tessa. I'm not really here. You're j--just having a very involved dream."

Tessa's throat burned with sadness. She stepped away from him, thrust her chin forward and crossed her arms in an expression of defiance. "You're lying."

Peter smiled. "No, I'm not. I'm dead and you're dreaming. But I d--don't want to argue with you. Our time together is limited and I'm sure you'd rather be d--doing other things." He gestured to the bed and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. "I know I'd rather be, but it is, after all, your dream."

"My dream?" Tessa asked.

"Yup," Peter answered. "Do with me as you see f--fit, although if you force me to t--tap dance a la Michael Flatley, I insist on wearing a k--kilt with nothing on underneath." He gave Tessa a sweeping bow, stepped backward with his hands behind his back and tapped for a moment before giving her a saucy wink.

Her arms fell to her side and she shook her head. Despite everything he was still such a randy sod!

Tessa swallowed against the lump that refused to leave. She closed her eyes in a long blink, then opened them once more. She stepped directly in front of him and he looked up at her with questioning eyes. She spoke, her words serious:

"Then you'll do what I want you to, won't you?"

Peter gulped. "Devotion to a d--dead man isn't going to help your marriage! I--it's not healthy, Tessa, what you want!"

"And you'd be the best judge of that?" snapped Tessa. "You're dead and I'm all--I'm all alone, and--"

"You're not alone. You have a daughter. You have a husband."

"You know what I mean. Please. This is my dream, correct?" She touched his arm. "Once more?"

Tessa obeyed. She stood before him, her smile soft with love for him, her eyes filled with a hunger that begged to be satiated. She reached to unbutton the rest of his shirt; he stepped away. Her fingers scraped the linen and she tried to speak. Peter raised a hand, silencing her.

"Turn away from me."

Had Peter made the request mere months before, Tessa would have balked in a heartbeat bue hae had learned through her imprisonment that Peter would never harm her of his own free will, and if he asked her to do something for him, it would surely benefit her, too. Therefore, Tessa did as she was told. To her delight, she could soon feel Peter's hands on her shoulders and underneath her shoulder-length brown hair. Goosebumps worked their way down her spine as he swept the tresses to one side and placed love nibbles on her neck. She shuddered with delight at the touch.

Peter's hands massaged her shoulders, her upper arms and downward until they left her arms entirely and he wrapped them around her waist. Still his lips moved against the back of her neck, causing the small hairs to rise from the feather-light tough. He nibbled upward to her earlobes, taking great delight when she shivered…shivered at the sensation.

Tessa placed her hands over his and leaned against him. She could feel him hard against her lower back. She turned her head to the right and Peter's lips met hers. Eagerly, she attempted to face him once more, only to have him wrap his arms around her waist and lift her into his arms.

"Oh no you don't," she laughed. "You already did that once!"

"I don't recall you complaining," he scoffed as he set her on the floor. "What do you want to do…carry me?!"

"I hadn't really given it a lot of thought, but now that you mention it," Tessa paused and grabbed Peter by the waist. "You're shorter than I am. This should be a cinch!"

She braced herself and attempted to lift her lover off the ground. Nothing. Peter didn't budge. She grunted and redoubled her efforts. This time, she managed to lift him an inch or so and hold the position for a few seconds before she admitted defeat and put him back down.

"You're heavier than you look," she said with a wink. "Been eating your mum's chocolate chip biscuits up there in Heaven, haven't you?"

"I'm just dead weight," Peter quipped. "Get it? Dead?"

"You're too much," Tessa giggled. She pushed forward with her hands and tried to shove him good-naturedly. Peter stepped nimbly aside and Tessa fell forward, onto the bed.

"Heh, heh! You look nice from that angle!" Peter hopped onto the bed beside her.

Tessa's eyes narrowed and a sly smile spread across her face. She flipped onto her back and grabbed a pillow. She swung it around and hit Peter across the back with it.

"Ow, wench! That hurt!" But he was laughing as he said it.

"It's a feather pillow, fuck nut!" Tessa grinned.

Peter grabbed the other pillow and bashed her in the shoulder. Feathers flew everywhere.

"That's how you're going to play it, eh?" Tessa asked, amused. Looking rather foolish with her hair in tangles and covered in goose down, she got to her knees and held the pillow in her hands like a baseball player holds his bat. "You're going to pay for that, arsemunch!"

She swung; Peter ducked. He countered with a blow to the knees, causing Tessa to fall backward, shrieking with laughter. Peter crawled next to her and lifted the pillow high over his head. Her laughter now uncontrollable, all Tessa could do was brace herself for the inevitable.

"This is for every time that you hogged the l--lavatory while imprisoned in my chambers! This is for hogging my bed, eating my food and making me buy t--tampons for you!"

He made to bring the pillow down; Tessa gave a little scream. At the last moment, he threw the pillow across the room and instead, he grabbed her wrists. Her eyes widened and struggled to free herself while his grip tightened. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. She ceased struggling; his grip on her wrists loosened and her arms wrapped around him, all jollity gone, replaced by a passion that neither could deny. Within minutes the two were a tangle of arms and legs.

Tessa's hands worked the buttons on Peter's shirt; his untied the delicate laces that held her dressing gown closed and slipped it from her shoulders. She wore nothing underneath. She reached for the fly on his trousers; his hands moved reverently across her soft skin.

His hand came to a rest on her pubic bone, just above the small patch of wiry hair. He heard her breathing change ever so slightly. It was now shallower, expectant.

"Ask me," he prodded. Teasingly he allowed his index finger to slide downward, over the bone and lower; she was comfortably wet already.

"Please," she whispered.

"What was that? I didn't hear you." Peter. The finger flicked against her, swiftly, against the most sensitive area of her entire body and she shuddered.

ase,ase," Tessa said again. "Please…you know what I want!"

"This?" Peter added a finger and continued to stroke her, the movements light yet insistent.

"Yes," she squeaked. She thrust her hips forward desperately.

"So you like this?" Another finger. Another stroke.

"YES!"

Peter's fingers plunged into her; she moaned softly and spread her legs wider for him. His eyes were closed and his breath against her neck was shallow and quick; Tessa's heart pounded in her chest as she reached for him. Her mouth came into contact with his chest; her lips brushed against his hardened nipples, sucking them gently and he sighed.

His index and middle fingers, slick with proof of Tessa's own excitement, found her clit and, with a slowness that was both maddening and wonderful, stroked the tortured skin on either side…up, then down, then up again. She shuddered in his arms, the pleasure overwhelming her. Peter quickened his pace, the pressure of his fingers' movements against her growing, her mewling noises becoming louder, until she pulled his face to hers with one free arm, desperate to find his mouth with her own.

"You have to come back," she begged between kisses. "Please, Peter. I need you so much. I love you so much."

"Shhh," Peter placed a finger against her lips. "You know that I c--can't come back, love."

"I'll beg if I have to," she moaned.

He frowned. He had feared this reaction. "Silly woman! Don't ask me for something I can't g--give to you," he chided gently.

Tessa fell back amongst the pillows, her eyes shiny with tears. "Come on, now, love," Peter said. "I'm here for you tonight and all you're going to d--do is cry? You called for me--b--begged for me. Now you have me and you're going to t--turn on the waterworks?"

"No, I suppose not," Tessa said, sniffling.

He placed one hand on the flat plane of Tessa's stomach and suddenly found he was fighting back tears of his own. Does she know yet? he wondered. Is she aware? Is Harry?

He dared not ask the question, just in case. Instead, her straddled her, his hot mouth finding her breast and drawing one of her nipples into his mouth. She threw back her head and gasped as he suckled against her, one hand massaging her other breast. His lips trailed up her body to her neck where he began to suck against the tender skin, not caring about what it would look like when he was done. He could mark her as he wished in her dreams--the one place where he could show the world who owned her--him, Peter Pettigrew!

Tessa's hands reached up to Peter's face and she pulled him to her. Their lips met in sloppy, passionate kisses, their teeth sometimes striking, their faces growing moist from their tongues' movements against each other. One hand snaked its way down Peter's side, skimming his love handles, reaching between his legs. Her fingers wrapped themselves possessively around his thick cock. Peter's eyes squeezed shut. Pleasepleasepleaseplease, Tessa, he silently begged.

Tessa smiled against his lips listened to her lover's shallow breathing as she granted his unspoken wish. His cock fascinated her. As her hand moved up its length with an excruciatingly slow pace, she allowed her thumb to graze the tip and marveled at how soft skin could feel on something designed to be so firm. He twitched in her hand as she continued to tease the head with her thumb.

"Yes, love," Peter whispered against her, between kisses. "Please, harder. Stroke it harder. Please, Tessa."

She complied, her fingers becoming sticky with pre-cum. She stroked his entire length, cupping his balls in her hands. Peter moaned as she fondled them gently in a feather-like grasp.

"Are you sure this is e--entirely your dream?" he panted as she released his balls and began to pump him with one hand. "Because I g--gotta tell you, even I don't dream this good--oh, hon, slow down, I'm going to cum right here, all over you if you--oh God, Tessa, what are you t--trying to--you mean to make me--uh…oh Merlin!"

Tessa smiled wickedly as she continued her work. She was getting off on the power she wielded with her own hand. How ironic that men rule the strongest nations on earth, she thought fleetingly, when the world's greatest power lies in a woman with a cock in her hand! We can either raise men upon pedestals or bring them to their knees with a flick of our wrists…

Her thoughts were broken by the sound of intense moaning. Peter was as slick and stiff as he could be. His arms, pinned on either side of her wobbled as he fought a losing battle to keep composure. He was staring at her, his eyes half open and glazed with lust, his mouth partially open, his forehead broken into a sweat.

"You have to--I can't--I--I--oh--!" His eyes flew open and with a jagged cry he spilled himself onto her.

"Now look what you've g--gone and made me do," he said, grimacing.

Tessa looked down. "Seems as if someone can't keep their composure," she said with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, how in the world was I s--supposed to manage that with you…with you…." Peter rolled over and reached for one of the bathrobes in an attempt to clean her up. "I've said it once and I'll say it a--again, how you g--got so good at that with no previous experience a--astounds me!" He hastily balled up the robe. Tessa stopped him with one hand and a sly smile.

"No, leave it." Tessa placed one finger into the warmth on her belly and raised it to her lips. Peter's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as her pink tongue swirled around the finger. Had he not gone off when he had, he thought, he certainly would have just then!

"Tessa? I'm all for being k--kinky but you're going to be uncom--"

"I said, leave it." Tessa took the bathrobe from Peter. "You can wash me properly in the Jacuzzi." Her bright eyes darted toward the open door at the foot of the bed. "In fact, I insist upon it."

Finis part I