At four o'clock in the morning, the skies were still dark in London and the city was still fairly quiet.  Dominik Wiedman mosied down the avenues and city streets a long ways on foot, following one of his usual paths to Niobe Thursby's flat from Diagon Alley.  He'd enjoy himself and the night along the way, thinking deeply as he looked far off into those indigo skies, into the dark faces of shops, offices, and historic buildings with the cool night air biting his cheeks.  He mused over the funny Muggle auto-mobiles and their surreal behaviours associated with traffic lights and intersections.

He'd been thinking deeply on everything since they'd last seen each other on Halloween.  Their very public arrest and their subsequent separation by the law certainly made for an awkward rekindling of that wild fire.  Dominik had never felt so free in all his life as he'd felt on Halloween night soaring through the skies with Niobe Thursby - and then there they were in trouble with the law for it.  He shook his head grimly.  He knew she was upset about it Halloween night - just imagine what she'd have to say to him now after being processed as a criminal offender....  Let off on the loose, again, despite their clear trespasses, they served their bit of time in custody.  He knew it was hard for his kid sister in some untold way, his getting off so free when her husband had 333 days total waiting time.  Honestly, despite the relatively modest length of his stay in Azkaban prison, it was worlds more time than Dominik Wiedman had ever served for far worse crimes than burglary.

Dominik wanted desperately to ensure that the scare of being arrested hadn't stopped Niobe from wanting to be his number one Witch.  Because he needed her.  He was beginning to see that in a way he hadn't even realized before.  The feeling of urgency that he had with Niobe was real.  He needed her!  Time spent in her company, in her cozy little flat, with her hanging off of his side in public, in the dark night and plain day, he needed her.  And really, other than getting arrested, things between them were going so unbelievably well!

For Dominik, getting into big trouble - even being arrested - was not a new or particularly spectacular phenomenon.  He'd roll out of bed this time next month and not think twice about it.  Not so with Niobe.  She loved being close to it, but falling into trouble with the Ministry herself was taking it a bit far for his pet; he could tell just by how she'd reacted to their initial arrest.  He felt bad - not for getting her arrested or for what they'd done but - for the strain that all of it seemed capable of putting on their relationship. 

Dominik was set on making it all better.  His primary objective in fact, was to make it all better.  Because he'd fallen even more in love with the Niobe who secretly likes to bait Muggles. 

So he walked, hands in his pockets, and thought of her and his life, his situation.  He was strangely optimistic and wholesome with his adoration for her filling him up with pleasant feelings.  The normal sense of panic and anxiousness that usually gripped the heart in his chest was mercifully at bay.  Actually, he was in a much better mood ever since getting arrested.  That had all been a good catharsis for him.  Vented some of his pent up angst.  Even though it was annoying to have to stay in detention a week and a half, wandless and with nothing in the world to do, he didn't mind entirely.  He got out, got rushed into Quidditch practice, got to play in a rather expressive Quidditch battle, then been kept busy by community service contracts and planning for Dolly's birthday as a treat to Dazmond.

When he reached her flat he knew by looking at the dark window that she was asleep.  It was very, very early on a Wednesday and, even if she was getting up to go to work on her birthday, she wouldn't be getting up at this hour.  Well, not of her own accord, anyway. 

Out of the quiet night came a sound, which was soon after followed by another, and another. 

Thwack! . . . Thwack!  Thunk! . . .  Tink!

From the middle of the empty avenue, Dominik tossed pebbles at her upstairs window.  He thought it was all very Romeo.  Already he was excited to see her, careless and free again, like a child.

Niobe was asleep and dreaming of running. 

It was still dark when something woke her up.  Her eyes opened and she listened in the darkness.  She heard a car driving somewhere, but nothing that would - Tink!

In an instant she was out of bed wand-in-hand and barefooting across the floor ever so slowly.  What had she heard?

Thwack!  Thunk!

There it was again - something at the window.  Her immediate thought was a late-night owl trying to get in, but when she reached the window that looked into the ally she saw no owl.  Careful to keep her wand out of view, she slid the sash up.

"Who's out there?" she hissed down into the night.  And then she saw him.  For a moment there was peace.  Like the rain stopped falling, a bird suspended in flight.  All was quiet.

That rat bastard. 

Niobe scowled and her next words to him were a sharp incantation that send a crackling shot of purple lightning at his feet, then she slammed shut her window.

She wanted to cry.  Arms crossed, her hand over her clenched shut eyes and grit teeth she tried to tamp down what she was feeling.  Fear, sadness, shame, rage, humiliation, all of it at once.  She stomped her foot and shook herself loose of her own grip.  She'd denounced him a hundred times this last fortnight, promised that she'd kill him if she saw him again, if he had the audacity to ever speak to her again.  But all that was easier when he wasn't there, making her face her sins.

Dominik watched the sash go up and held back his next throw, two damp and gritty pebbles held in the palm of his hand. 

A true smile arose on his face as her sleep-tossed, dreaded and haloed head entered the frame of the window.  Her beauty was colossal.  Just hearing her Irish lilt spill out into the quiet night was enough to make his dark heart flutter.  He could do nothing but stand there in awe, super-charged with a feeling of deep significance and fulfillment.  This was all quickly followed, however, with a brief moment of tremendous confusion.

She shot at him - with lightning!

"Whoa!" 

Dominik jumped back.  Her spell hit the ground at his feet.  Some purple sparks, bits of dirt and rock shot up in the air, raining against him.  He covered his eyes with an arm and turned away.  It smelled of scorched earth as the mark in the alley sat subtly smoking from the heat of her fury. 

He'd heard the window slam, but he looked up after her anyway with surprised eyes, hoping vainly that she'd still be there looking out at him, perhaps with that look of strong disapproval that he had come to cherish.  He held hope that eventually she'd return to show him some lenience.  He didn't see her though.  The room behind the glass was dark.  He couldn't make out whether or not she was up there, looking down at him.  Or ignoring him.

His chest was a pit of anxiety and dread.  The angst was absolutely unbearable.  Shut out in the cold like a rejected mutt!  He all but whimpered.

Perhaps she would come downstairs to let him in at the front door, only taking her time to get there?  He crossed his arms and rocked a bit, dropping his eyes.  He tried to think what he'd done wrong.  He knew she'd been angry with him but he had figured her strong feelings might have dissipated the longer they were apart.  With distance the heart grows fonder... right?

Helpless, he gazed up again at that horrible window of hers with its cruelly familiar panes of glass.  Like her, it was perfectly imperfect, showing character and grace.  He felt the anger well up in him again - the struggling sense of frustration that saw no out on the horizon.  He suddenly growled and hurled the remaining pebbles at the side of her apartment. 

DA-DINK!  "Niobe!" he tried, calling out much louder than he ought to at four in the morning.

Shut up tight in her apartment Niobe had turned again towards the window, nearly about to take pity.  She'd remembered that Dominik was hers.  Her responsibility, her corruption, her love.  Did she love him?  She'd resolved to speak with him when DA-DINK!; and then her name echoing in the alley.  His entitled persistence suddenly disgusted her and she shut her eyes again.  Her thumb rubbed the end of her cut-short ring finger, a habit that had crept in since she'd lost it, a portent that she was about to do something she knew she'd later regret.  A habit totally invisible to her.

She stalked across the room into the tiled kitchen portion of her studio flat to her second window, the one equipped with a fire escape, and opened it up. 

"Lower your voice!" she hissed down at him.  "Well, come up then, will you?  Just.." she sighed in conflict and moved back into the kitchen, leaving the window open for him.  A glance at the clock and she realized that she wouldn't be sleeping any more tonight and she put the kettle on.

F*ckall.  Today was her 33rd birthday.

Angst and fear were coursing through Dominik by the time he heard her at the second window.  His attention focused in on her immediately.  Though he hesitated to move too soon, there was a quiet frenzy in his eyes and an urgent, pressing need to rush forward in his limbs.  Her voice, her admittance, was all that was needed.

Thank bloody Merlin, he thought.  He didn't need a second invitation.  He hardly let the feeling of relief settle before he was up those steep, narrow stairs, his heavy black boots making the whole fire escape rattle and creak beneath him.

He slowed at her window and peered in before climbing over the sill, careful to properly navigate her unrest.  Though his heart was beating uncontrollably fast he was sure he could make this better, smooth this out....  He had to, or else he risked losing the very thing that he thought he'd gained in all of this.  His number one Witch, his adoration.

He went right up to her and leveled, an expression of deep pain governing his features. 

"I'm sorry pet," he said.  "You've gotta believe that."

"Don't call me pet and don't tell you're sorry," she bit back and put more space between them.  She leaned against the counter with her arms folded over her chest.  She was in her sleeping things, a ribbed tank top and long loose trousers.  Her dreadlocks were falling out of their bun, lopping to the side.  She wiped some sleep from her eyes and looked up again.

She saw Dominik and she ached for a time-turner.  To go back and be with him before this happened.  To a time where she felt in control and that Dominik wasn't some scion of questionable morals.  Where neither of them were dangerous. 

"I don't think you're sorry, not for the right reasons.  I was in cell.  I am a convict.  A felon.  They nearly snapped my wand.  The only reason they didn't was because we didn't actually hurt anyone.  And what about you.  Why haven't I heard what happened to you, Dominik? Hm?"

She swallowed a lump in her throat, horribly embarrassed that she was about to cry.  "Why did we do that?  I can't sort it."

She pulled away from him, and the pain felt as real as a dagger sinking into his heart. 

He took what comfort he could from his surroundings along with a steadying breath - his response to the anxiety doubling.  Focusing on the room around him would work to calm him down mostly for the fact that it was hers.  The lighting in her place was different - the colours warmer - than his own black, dank abode.  The familiar scent of her home and her presence, no matter how contrary her stance, was a comfort after these last few weeks apart.

Niobe was emotional, pensive....  She pushed against his wiles but didn't totally disengage.  He listened to her, finally pulling a chair out and taking a seat at her table when she'd finished.  There was a beat of silence as he gathered the nerves to join the conversation.  He had a feeling his perspective might be unpopular with her tonight, but he had to be honest.  He cared a great deal about getting her to admit she'd liked it.  After all, she'd shown herself to be like him.  He'd fallen more in love with her for it.

"You know why we did it... Niobe," he looked to her with equal parts sorrow, warmth, and caution.  "For a moment we were free, our full selves visible, living, vibrant, and I wouldn't take that back for the world.  It was the best night of my life, it was!  The law, what they did to us, that's what's not humane.  You did feel it, didn't you?  They don't want you to remember that feeling.  And now you're soaking up the shame for it.  For what?  You're not a felon.  You're a victim of a system that's stupid."

Niobe hadn't heard Dominik speak from the heart like that, not in ages.  Usually they talked about the pair of them, about love, about bodies and well, even Quidditch from time to time.  They never talked about this.  Because this had never happened.

For whatever reason, her mind went to the moment that Cinead Tawse strangled her.  Why did this feel that way? Where was that threat and punishment coming from.  She easily noticed that it wasn't coming from Dominik.  He wasn't Cinead.  Then who? From whence did this threat lurk?  She was going to rub the nubbin of her missing finger raw if she wasn't careful.  She didn't sit down and was afraid to say anything lest her voice would set loose her tears.

But... what was he saying?  Niobe turned her head, almost to adjust to the new tilt Dominik was putting on the world.  Her first reaction was anger. 

"What the hell are you talking about...?"  But it was a reflex more than a real thought.  She had felt it.  And she'd also felt what it was like to be treated like a thing.  In shackles, moved from place to place with no say. Even her tiny, tame ordeal had been enough to feel like she'd been reduced to nothing. 

"We weren't trying to hurt them," she muttered.  It was her same feeble excuse of a mantra, the one shred of good intentions that made all of this okay somehow inside. 

Dominik felt the resounding strength of his morals which, most the time, never saw the light of day.  He'd learned a long time ago it was better to keep such thoughts to himself if he could help it, to shut up and disobey more mildly.  There were enough people running around calling him a murderer for him to tell the world how he really felt. 

Her reaction was odd, he didn't know quite what to make of it.  She disagreed.  She disagreed fundamentally.  But it was those last six words his mind clung onto.  We weren't trying to hurt them.  We weren't trying to hurt them.

What did that mean?  And why did it suddenly transport him to May 1998?

He felt the tears well up in his eyes.  He felt the dread rise up in his chest.  The tension in the air was more than enough to dispel the belief that they'd only been having a spot of fun Halloween, a spot of harmless fun.  He felt the need to say it.  They'd done no harm.  Those Muggles had something magical happen around them, they waited for it every day of their terrible mundane lives, and they got it.  And they got it erased from their noggins, too.  The damned Statute of Secrecy upheld, they'd walked away from that night none the wiser.  What was the damned problem?

But he couldn't say, because he felt what she felt, too.  There was a stretch of heavy silence.  He couldn't bring himself to look at her.

"Do you regret it," he said.  "Do you wish I'd go away?" 

And there it was again.  Something new from Dominik.  It chilled her to think there was more to him than she knew, that he had secrets.  It chilled her pride to learn he hadn't given everything to her, that there were things that moved him more than his fleeting obsessions with her.  Maybe it was easier to think of Dominik as a simpler man than he really was.  But something different was going on with him and Niobe felt frigid to be left out of it.

She looked at him and didn't recognize his face that way.  Who was at her table? Why did his shoulders slump so?

Then he asked the question she'd dreaded facing, never expecting it to be posed to her so clearly.  So naked.

"Do you regret it? Do you wish I'd go away?"

Niobe's frown deepened to a point of no return and with her face knit up tight, she choked back angry, silent sobs into hand.  She barely breathed, barely made a noise as she tried to push it all down.    Strength draining, she slowly sank down against the cabinet.  The feelings were so consuming her greatest wish in that tight, black moment was to disappear. To be back and bed in the timelessness of sleep. 

She couldn't answer.  Short, sharp breaths forced their way up and her face was wet and messy. 

The truth was too difficult to find, too painful to admit to.  Did she really believe herself that she regretted it? Did she really believe she wanted him gone? 

"Hey,"

Dominik was up out of his chair and on his way over to her, kneeling down on the kitchen tiles in a heart beat.  His wet boots squeaked against the floor as he sunk down by her side.  He was momentarily stalled by his terror over being rejected; he hovered, light of touch in hesitation.  But he couldn't stand to see her in so much pain.  He wrapped his arms around her, formed a container with his own body and let her sobs shake him, too.  His jaw rested against her, he was giving everything he had.

His brow weighed down with concern and consternation, he tried to do his best to be a comfort, to make subtle shushing noises and hope it'd give her reason to breathe again.  It wasn't enough to say I'm here, it's alright I'm here.  That seemed to be part of the problem.  But in a real way it felt to him like she finally fully understood on some deep level what his pain was like - where he stood in the world.  Somehow it felt as though she had just become him.  That he had just become her. 

It didn't make any sense.  Thick tears fell down his own face.

He hoped to Merlin, Salazar, Godric, and all the Gods above and below that he wouldn't lose her, also that he wouldn't somehow destroy her.  He kissed the top of her head; he'd hold her and wait this out until she was better or until she'd tossed him off, he told himself.

She let him.  She let herself be covered and comforted.  An indulgence like a shuddering drag from a cigarette.  Unhealthy, unwise, but everything she craved in that moment.  To feel soft and human again.  To be grounded and to stop the waves of violent dissociation going on where the harder she shut her eyes and the less she breathed the more and more she was leaving the present and this place.  His touch and his breath, no matter how toxic, brought her back up, kept her from slipping away. 

All at once, after a few minutes of sitting in the growing morning glow of her apartment floor, leaned against her kitchen cabinet, Niobe went soft.  Everything relaxed as she consciously let go of the painful tension she was holding.  She let her hands fall to her lap and she breathed deep.  Her eyes were open and she looked blearily out at the yellowish glow on her rug, the stark shadows of the table leg across the floor. 

"I dunno what I do now," she said quietly.  "I don't know who I am anymore.  I don't know what's right.  And you confuse me."

The words crossed his mind.  Marry me. 

Now was probably not the time for that, however.  Not while they were both prone in their weakest states, despite how romantic the notion was.  Inside, though, he felt it sink in.  Watching her resurface from the dark night of the soul, bleary eyed and blinking toward the encroaching dawn, he witnessed a beauty he had never seen before.  It was raw and real and vital. 

"You're Niobe," he said.  The words themselves were probably not that helpful.  But the way he said them made her sound like a heroine. 

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as though replenishing himself.  It felt like food when one was on the edge of hunger, water when one was of the edge of thirst.  He believed in them more now then he ever had. 

"I'm sorry but I love you," said Dominik, wiping wet streaks from his face where tears had fallen like molten diamonds from his eyes, heavy and shining.  "I think it's gonna be alright."

Niobe leaned forward away from Dom and away from the cabinets, and raised to standing.  Her whole body was in need of movement.  A shuddering sigh and she ran her fingers down through her locked hair, then stretched her arms backwards with her fingers interlaced.  She rolled her head round and round slowly as she stepped carefully away from the tiled kitchen area across the open space of the living area.  Above her, a warm cozy bed awaited. 

But dawn had come on Dominik's heels and she had work.  Well, sort of.  She'd been suspended from the Prophet, but she would leave her house anyway.  She couldn't not go out.  And then later this afternoon she had service at the Ministry.  Hours of penance paid to the Muggle Affairs Office. 

Domink had told her he loved her and she hadn't said anything.  She'd paused to think, but had forgotten to.  Her mind was wandering away from facing the hard things to facing the less hard things.  She didn't want Dominik to love her.  When before it had made her feel powerful, now it made her feel weak. 

But she couldn't do that to him. 

"I think we should wait," she said, taking a closed off stance in the center of her flat.  "Wait and see what happens." 

Time apart.  Hold off judgement.  Maybe they'd each find something else to obsess over and they'd be free.  Free of having to make a real decision.

Dominik stayed where he was, leaned against the cabinet, as she pulled up and away from him.  She was always moving up and away from him just as he'd settled down. 

He didn't move after her though, didn't even feel an urgency to this time.  He followed her closely with his eyes from his spot on her floor, tired, but oddly comfortable.  He'd been excited earlier, then forced to face the darkness within and between them.  Now he was just drained inside his own twisted, post-cathartic brand of optimism.

Her words, though, were completely antithetical to his own understanding of their situation.

"Wait... wait?  What d'you mean wait.  Wait for what?" he said, suspicion raising the pitch of his voice by a few octaves as he lifted the back of his head from the cabinets.  He looked at her in disbelief.  Was she pushing him away again?!