A Maid in the Devil's Manor Part 2
Severus and Hermione appeared at a public apparation point several blocks from the laboratory supply shop.
"Why did we apparate so far from the shop, Professor?" Hermione asked, looking about.
"I wanted you to see something," Severus replied with an edge to his voice.
It was a typical Saturday morning in Hogsmeade. Wizards and witches were out early, and the sidewalks were crowded with people Hermione and Severus walked through the crowd. After only walking a block or two, Hermione was aware of people watching them, frowning, whispering and pointing, a couple even following them.
"What's going on? Why are all these people looking at us?" Hermione asked the Professor, who was striding through the throngs of people, eyes straight ahead, taking no heed of the gawkers.
"This, Miss Granger is the beginning of the aftermath of Miss Skeeter's article. There was a photo of us, and now we are recognized. Most of the people watching us believe the article. This is what it is like to be me, Miss Granger," he said quietly.
Hermione was about to comment on this when suddenly their progress was blocked by a small, middle-aged witch with graying hair, who looked up at Severus with hatred in her blue eyes. Suddenly, she swung at his face. The Potions Master neatly caught her hand.
"My only daughter was killed two months ago in a deatheater attack. The Aurors got there too late to save her, and the deatheaters all got away. No one has been brought to justice for this…but you…you walk around free…helping them. You may have a medal, but you are no hero. You deserve to be in Azkaban…you should be the one dead…not my daughter!" the witch said, bursting into tears.
A small crowd had gathered. They were muttering. Hermione could hear words such as 'Deatheater. Murderer. Child-killer." It was horrible.
Severus looked down at the woman, still holding her hand. His black eyes were bright. In a soft voice, he spoke to the stricken witch. The crowd went silent so as to hear what the Potions Master was saying to the woman.
"Madam, you have my sympathy for the loss of your daughter. If there were anything I could do or say to bring you comfort, I would. But the fact remains that many have died, and will continue to die by the hands of deatheaters. I did my best to end Voldemort's evil, and that required me to be in his service, but it wasn't by choice. I was in service to the Order of the Phoenix. I am no supporter of deatheaters, madam. That ended long, long ago, probably well before your daughter was even born. Despite what you may hear or read, I assure you I hate their evil ways as much, or maybe more than you do. You have the death of one daughter to deal with. I have the death of thousands. Now I will release your hand and go my way. Again, I am sorry for your loss."
Severus released the hand of the now speechless woman, and walked through the silent crowd as it parted before him, Hermione at his side. When they had cleared the crowd, Hermione looked up at him.
"That was awful," she said in a low voice.
"That is my life, Miss Granger. I deal with people like that constantly whenever some article or column comes out about my role as a deatheater for the Order. I'm afraid that you too may have to suffer through the same thing. You too are viewed as a traitor to the wizarding world, by association. Though the charge is unproven, the onus is there. It is always there," he said, a trace of bitterness entering his silky voice.
For the rest of the way, the couple was ogled and whispered about. Hermione was relieved when they finally turned into the supply shop. From the outside, Hogolesby's Lab Supply was a small shop, but the inside of the store was magically resized. It was huge, and a researcher's dream. Hermione looked back at the entrance. People were standing outside, looking in at them, all of the faces unfriendly.
The Potions Master walked up to the old clerk behind the counter, who greeted him warmly. Severus handed him the list and spoke to him in muted tones as Hermione looked around. There were only one or two other customers in the shop, apparently just browsing. The clerk looked at the list and his eyebrows raised slightly. He handed the list back to Severus, and nodded.
The clerk walked from around the counter and approached the two browsing wizards. He spoke to them softly, and they both looked at Hermione and Severus, then walked out the front door without a word. The clerk followed, closing and locking the door behind them. He turned the open sign around to read "closed" and drew all the window shades. Taking out his wand, he brightened the lights.
"All yours, Professor," he said, returning to his place behind the counter, sitting down on a stool and opening a frayed magazine.
"All right, Miss Granger…go shop," Severus said to Hermione with a small smirk. "Use your wand to mark all the items you wish to purchase. They will be tallied and marked for shipping."
Hermione quickly forgot about the milling crowd of people outside the shop as she walked through the store, marking item after item with her wand. She was like a child in a candy shop.
She selected inventory/racking systems, laboratory glassware, orbital shakers, ultra-low temperature freezers, environmental chambers, circulating baths, biological safety cabinets, cell culture incubators, storage containers, dispensers, thermal cyclers, several centrifuges, a slew of concentrators, a particle processor, several microscopes, a couple of spectrophotometers and a few ph meters for a start.
Then she started on what she needed for the soil-testing lab. Then the terrarium lab.
Severus watched Hermione pick and choose the equipment and supplies she needed with hooded eyes. She was flushed and excited, exclaiming over items, picking objects up and inspecting them before setting them down. She was in her element and enjoying having the resources to get what she needed. He had discretely told the clerk to hide the prices on all the items in the shop. This the clerk did with a neat little spell. Hermione never noticed. Severus was afraid that her inclination to thriftiness would hamper her selections. A number of items she was purchasing were not on the list. Watching her made Severus feel good. He had so much money lying fallow. His needs were few, and there was little to spend it on. It just continued to gain interest and grow. He imagined the Gringotts goblins would be shocked to see the amount of money spent in one day, after all the years his vault remained untouched.
After almost three hours, Hermione walked over to Severus, her amber eyes bright with excitement, and announced she was through. He thought she looked very fetching, even if she were in jeans. Severus nodded and leaned over the counter towards the clerk. He gave him the account number for his vault and the shipping instructions. He wanted delivery in one week, and would require set up as well. The clerk nodded and shook the Professor's hand warmly. He was going to make one hell of a commission, and he hadn't lifted a finger.
Hermione was all smiles when she left the shop, walking next to Severus and trying to explain to him all the items she had purchased, and how she would set up the lab, and how much she was looking forward to getting down to work. Severus just listened, a small smirk on his face as she chattered on. She reminded him of when she was a student in her early years. You couldn't turn her off.
Hermione didn't even notice the glowers they were receiving as they walked to the apparation point. It was only when they were about to apparate back to Snape Manor that Hermione told Severus she wanted to stop by her flat first. Severus agreed and locked arms with her. Together they apparated to her flat, reappearing on the walkway leading up to the front door. As they approached, Hermione noticed an envelope attached to the door. She pulled it off and opened it. Her amber eyes shifted over the parchment quickly. Her face dropped.
"What is it?" Severus asked.
"An eviction notice. I have to be out of the flat by the end of the month," she replied with a sigh.
"Did the landlord give a reason?" Severus asked. Inwardly he was elated. Things were moving right along.
"No, but he didn't have to. Two words. Rita Skeeter," she said through clenched teeth. Suddenly her nostrils flared and she ripped the parchment to shreds, flinging the pieces high in the air and watching them drift to the ground. Angry tears formed in her eyes.
What was she going to do now? The end of the month was only two weeks away, and she was broke.
Severus stood next to Hermione silently, his black eyes fixed on her intently. He had to work hard to hide the wicked smile that threatened to break out on his face.
Hermione unlocked and unwarded the door to her flat, pushed it open and walked through. The Professor followed her, his black eyes glued to the witch's back. Hermione stopped in the middle of the room and surveyed it.
"Most of the furniture came with the flat, so I won't have to worry about getting rid of it," she said absently. "I can sell my bed I guess, and put my lab equipment in the new facility."
Severus said nothing as the witch slowly walked through the flat, making decisions on how to best handle the eviction. She had not yet said anything about where she would go.
Hermione walked over to her desk and pulled out the large, flat central drawer. She took out a box, set it on top of the desk, opened it and took out a couple of parchments. She looked at them, frowning slightly. Severus was curious.
"What is that you are reading, Miss Granger?" he asked, his eyes on the box curiously.
"Oh, these are resumes. I'm going to bring them back to the Manor and update them. If the Ministry does fire me, I want to find work as soon as possible," she replied, her eyes still on the parchments.
"I see," Severus said shortly. She certainly believed in being prepared.
Hermione walked back into her bedroom. Severus simply stood in the middle of her flat, waiting. He was overjoyed at this new development, but Miss Granger's reaction was sobering. She was slowly losing everything, and he knew how it felt to be punished unfairly and didn't gloat. It was a painful thing. But soon she would be immersed in her work, and he knew nothing made her happier than to be working on some difficult, challenging project. These gray skies would blow over, once she was securely domiciled in the Manor.
Hermione looked around her messy bedroom. Her eyes fell on her orange stuffed kneazle, named Crookshanks the Second, after her pet and familiar, who had died some years ago. She picked it up, looked at it a moment, then pressed it to her chest for comfort. She was in a fix now. Ron and Harry had families, she couldn't impose on them, though either one of the wizards would welcome her. And she couldn't do Ginny. The witch was too wild, and the constant traffic of wizards coming and going would be a distraction. She had spent the night over the witch's house once and while she was sleeping, her room had been entered by a good-looking young wizard who was a bit tipsy and thought he was in Ginny's room. He had fell on Hermione and started kissing her awake. It was a rather pleasant awakening, until Hermione realized she wasn't dreaming and dumped the wizard on the floor, turning on the light.
Luckily for him, he was just as startled as she was. That was the only thing that kept Hermione from hexing him off the face of the planet. He apologized profusely as he backed out of the room, his blue eyes looking at her rather hotly just the same. She had been responding to his kisses and caresses until she woke. Hermione also felt the heat, but that was Ginny's boy toy, so the witch fell back into bed, brought herself to a quick orgasm and went back to sleep. That was the last time she slept at Ginny's.
Hermione looked around her bedroom. There really wasn't anything here she wanted to take with her besides Crookshanks. So she left the bedroom and returned to the living room, to find the Professor waiting for her. He was looking at her with those black eyes intently, and there was a slightly worried look in their depths. She wondered if he felt any urge to comfort her. The way she felt, she could use some intense, mind-blowing comfort, the kind that would take her away from this reality. She sighed. That was a really stupid thought. A pity shag by her snarky ex-professor. Severus' eyes widened.
He had been in her mind when that errant thought crossed it. He couldn't resist trying to see what she was feeling at the moment, and since she was so emotional, he felt she would be too preoccupied to feel him, and had been right. He was such an accomplished Legilimens, he didn't have to be directly in front of her to read her thoughts and memories, only in her vicinity. He blinked at her. Miss Granger had been idly wishing she could have a good round of sex to temporarily remove her from this situation. So the witch used sex as a release too. That was interesting. The realization that she momentarily considered him to provide her with that release caused a very physical reaction in the Potions Master. He was glad his organ was well positioned beneath his robes, so his slight erection didn't show. He knew he was just a passing thought on her part because he was the only male present. It wasn't a desire for him, per se. A pity shag. Is that what she called it?
"Stop it, Severus," he thought to himself. It would be a truly beastly act to take advantage of Miss Granger in that way when she was in the process of losing everything she worked so hard to maintain. His focus must be on getting her situated properly to do her best work. He had to remember that. The brothel was definitely on his to-do-list. Maybe tonight. His eyes dropped to an orange fuzzy something Hermione had clutched to her chest.
"Miss Granger, what is that you're holding?" he asked her, cocking his head.
Hermione held up the large, fuzzy stuffed animal and turned it towards him. The Potions Master looked at the staring gold eyes, stiff whiskers and cute little feline face.
"It's Crookshanks the second," she replied, looking like a little girl.
"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen. You're a grown witch, Miss Granger. Surely you don't cuddle up with stuffed toys," Severus said, scowling
"At least I cuddle up with something," Hermione retorted, clutching Crookshanks to her, and looking at the Potions Master blackly. "Anyway, I'm bringing him back to the Manor to sleep with me tonight."
Severus was about to say something very snarky when he caught himself, realizing that Miss Granger intended on spending the night at the Manor again. If that stuffed monstrosity would make her stay easier, then she could clutch it for comfort all she liked.
"That's fine, Miss Granger," he said shortly. Hermione walked over to her desk and picked up her box of resumes.
"I'm ready to go," she said.
The Potions Master nodded.
This time they apparated separately.
Severus escorted Hermione to her rooms, and spent the next couple of hours changing the magical settings on the wall to a simpler ward so she could enter and exit the lower rooms at will. This was easier said than done, and it took a lot of work to reset the wall. It had been created to hide Voldemort and was quite a powerful spell. But, Severus managed to do it, and Hermione was delighted.
They had a quiet early supper in Hermione's study, Severus telling her of some of the latest Potions advances, and Hermione half-listening, but comforted by the sound of his voice. When the Professor wasn't being a bastard, he was pleasant enough company. If she hadn't been preoccupied with her situation, she would have been riveted by his commentary. It had been so long since she was gifted with the company of someone who was her intellectual equal or above. She looked at him as he pontificated, and smiled. Like this, he wasn't so bad at all.
Finally, Severus quieted. He was trying to figure out how to delicately extricate himself from Hermione's presence so he could visit Knockturn Alley and relieve himself at the local brothel. Then the witch said something that peaked his interest.
"Professor, I've had such a long, terrible day. Rita's column, the stares of the witches and wizards in Hogsmeade, the realization I may lose my job Monday and being evicted from my flat. I just want to tie one on," Hermione said.
"Tie one on?" the Professor repeated, raising his eyebrows at the petite witch in front of him.
"Yes, tie one on. Get blasted. Get drunk," she said. Then she looked at him a bit defiantly. "I bet you never dreamed that Hogwarts' goody-two-shoes 'golden girl' liked to get good and toasted once in a while, did you Professor? Well, I do. Particularly when I'm stressed out. It doesn't happen often, but it happens. Do you care to join me? If not, I'm fully capable of handling it on my own."
Severus looked at her. From previous experience he knew the young witch held her drink well. And he knew she was under a lot of strain too. Who wouldn't be considering the circumstances? Well, he could spend a couple of hours indulging her before leaving for Knockturn Alley. She might even fall asleep before he left, and that would remove the necessity for awkward excuses.
"Miss Granger, what kind of host would I be if I abandoned you in your time of need?" he said smoothly. "What's your pleasure?"
"I think brandy. Or Cognac. Something smooth," she replied. "And I need a glass of milk."
Severus nodded. Instead of bellowing for Eli, he stood, wrapped his robes around him and apparated to his study. He was the only person who could apparate inside of Snape Manor. He walked over to his liquor cabinet and removed several bottles. He was looking for a special bottle of Cognac. He found it. Picking up two glasses he apparated to the kitchens, startling the house elves. They ran up to him, bowing.
"What can we do for you, Master?" they squeaked, surprised to see Severus gracing the kitchens with his presence. It was spotless. The elves certainly weren't slackers.
Severus walked over to the huge cooler, opened it and took out a liter of milk. He looked at the elves, who were totally aghast that their Lord and Master lowered himself to actually retrieve something from the cooler. The looks on their faces were so mortified, that Severus snorted back laughter.
"I simply came for some milk. Please go about your work. I'm fine," he said, apparating back to Hermione's study, leaving the flabbergasted elves behind.
He found the witch sitting there, staring at her hands a bit morosely. She looked up at the crack of his reappearance, which always followed shortly after a wizard actually appeared. The crack that followed apparation was somewhat like a sonic boom in operation. She looked at the bottles in his hands.
"What is all that?" she asked.
"Cognac and milk," the Potions Master replied, setting the bottles and glasses on the table before her. He conjured a tall glass for the milk and sat down. Hermione poured herself a tall glass of milk and drank it straight down. Severus looked at her curiously.
"Milk. It coats the stomach," Hermione said, pushing the tall glass aside.
Severus uncorked the bottle and poured them both a generous amount of cognac.
"Did you know Miss Granger, that brandy is distilled wine?" he asked her as he poured. "Most of the water is removed, which changes the taste and makes the alcohol content higher. Then it is aged in oak casks for years to give it color and flavor."
"No I didn't. Interesting bit of trivia," Hermione replied as he passed her the glass. She took a sip and sighed.
"I need this," she said, settling back in her chair.
Severus also leaned back, thinking about his own needs. His black eyes swept over the witch before him, studying her not as a brilliant witch who could be the answer to his pain, but as a woman. Her eyes were beautiful, open and expressive. He could always tell her state by her eyes. He remembered when they went liquid for those few moments at breakfast, and how it had affected him. His eyes dropped to her lips. They were small, but very full. He imagined they were quite soft as well. She had a habit of pursing them when she was concentrating…
Hermione reached for the bottle, startling him slightly. She poured herself another drink. He was barely finished with his first. She took another drink, and looked at him levelly for a moment, then her eyes raked over him consideringly.
"Professor?" she said hesitatingly.
"Yes?" Severus answered her, not knowing why his chest suddenly felt constricted.
"How do you stand it? The loneliness?" she asked him. Her voice was so low, it was almost a whisper.
He looked at her.
"Teaching helps immensely, Miss Granger, as does being Head of House. My time is occupied and I do interact with others, so I do not become a total recluse. If I did not have Hogwarts, most likely I would be locked behind these walls for the rest of my days," he said.
Hermione looked at him.
"No. I mean the loneliness, Professor. You have no one…to …to be with. No…well…no woman," she said slowly. "How do you deal with that?"
Hermione knew this was quite an intimate question, and she had no business asking it, but it was on her mind. She had never backed away from asking questions about things she wanted to know. But also, she too was dealing with loneliness, and she thought she might have a good chance of ending up alone just as he was.
"That is a rather personal question, Miss Granger," Severus said, looking her in her amber eyes. "Can you give me one good reason why I should answer it?"
Hermione met his gaze evenly, "I think you should answer it because I suspect, Professor, that I may wind up alone like you are, because of my love of knowledge. If I am to be in your place one day, I would like to know how you handle it. I haven't had an inkling of a relationship in over a year, and I am only twenty-four. To be honest, I don't see anything happening for me in the near future. How do you live without a woman in your life? If I know that, maybe I can better deal with not having a man in mine."
Severus shook his head. Hermione certainly was a pessimistic young lady. Her end up like him? He highly doubted it. She wouldn't be cursed with guilt. A damned soul. She only saw his being alone. That was the least of his problems.
"Have you found a way to…are you a practicing celibate?" she asked him, emboldened by the cognac.
Severus raised his eyebrows at her.
"Miss Granger, I assure you I am a red-blooded wizard and no celibate. Yes, I am alone, but I find ways to meet my needs…"
Hermione's eyebrows went up now. He could tell what she was thinking.
"…other than self-gratification." he said rather snappishly, put out by her thinking he laid around the Manor or dungeons wanking off. At least she had the grace to look embarrassed.
I…er… I didn't mean to imply…" she began. Severus cut her off. She wanted to know? He'd tell her. It's not as if he could be any lower in her eyes.
"There are brothels, Miss Granger. Where a woman will service even someone as dismal as me, for a price. When I strongly feel the need to have a woman, I go there and expunge that need. It is a fair substitute for a relationship, and less troublesome. I don't have to court or cajole or seduce. I lay down my galleons and then I lay down with a woman of my choice. When I am sated, I leave, until the need comes again. Is that what you wanted to know, Miss Granger?" he asked, his eyes glittering.
Hermione poured herself another drink.
"Are there male prostitutes, Professor?" she asked him.
Severus was taken aback by this shocking question. He stared at the witch across from him, then took a large sip of his brandy. She couldn't possibly be considering seeking out a gigolo, could she?
"Er…I don't know, Miss Granger. I have never needed a male," he replied awkwardly.
"But there may be some at the brothel, right?" she asked him.
"Possibly," he responded. Then he said, "Miss Granger, you are a lovely young woman. You have no need to pay for a man's services. It is not as difficult for a woman to find a willing partner as it is for a man. .."
Hermione cut him off.
"Did it ever occur to you, Professor, that a woman might have needs but not want to be in a relationship? A woman can just want physical release without strings just as much as a man does," she snapped, taking another large swallow of her brandy and setting the glass down hard on the table.
Severus didn't reply. Hermione continued.
"Yes, I know I could go out to some bar and pick up a willing wizard, who'd gladly bring me to his flat and flip my heels in the air…but you know, Professor…a witch that does that is called a slut or whore or some other nasty name. The wizard gets a slap on the back. Then there would be the awkward meetings in public places, running across each other here and there. There is a price that comes with finding bed partners like that. But if I bought a man, then the worst name I could be is 'client' and the entire affair would be clandestine. Do you see where I'm going with this Professor?"
"To a brothel?" the Potions Master replied weakly, at a loss at Miss Granger's frankness.
"Possibly," she said, with a look in her eye that made him distinctly uncomfortable. He looked at the cognac bottle. She certainly was knocking them back. He wasn't sure if Miss Granger was serious. She had been through a lot today. Maybe she was just letting off some steam. Would she really pay a man to take what probably any man would gladly sample for free? He looked at her. Her mind was working, and it definitely was not project-oriented.
Hermione looked at the Potions Master, and grinned inwardly. He looked completely flabbergasted. She guessed his image of the little Gryffindor princess was completely shattered now. Good. That goody-two-shoes image always bothered her anyway. As much trouble as she got in during her time at Hogwarts, it should never have been applied to her in the first place. She had been as good at finding trouble as anyone. Even her early aptitude creating new spells was the result of rampant rule breaking, teaching herself techniques that were forbidden to students. She sighed. She really did want to know how he dealt with his loneliness for the reasons she gave. But she didn't want to admit to herself that there could be an even deeper, more disturbing reason.
"When do you think you will be visiting the brothel again, Professor?" she asked him bluntly.
Severus quailed. He certainly wasn't going to tell her he planned to go tonight. Gods forbid she'd want to come with him.
"I don't know, Miss Granger. It isn't something I exactly plan," he replied, distinctly uncomfortable. It was obvious he didn't want to discuss this topic any more.
Hermione kept her face straight. She loved putting him out of sorts, especially concerning such a personal, intimate and taboo subject as paying for sex. She was finally getting him back for all those years of torture he put her through.
Severus suddenly bellowed for Eli, startling Hermione so much she spilled a little of her drink. The house elf appeared immediately. He looked from the Potions Master to Hermione with a tiny smirk on his scaly face.
"Yes, Master?" he asked.
"Bring us some finger foods to snack on," Severus said.
"Yes, Master," Eli replied, winking out.
Several minutes later Eli reappeared with a huge platter. It had cocktail franks, pigs-in-a-blanket, a large pile of tiny honey-covered drumsticks, baby carrots, and other cut vegetables, ranch dip, a few rolled cold cuts, some cubes of cheese and a dozen fresh oysters on the half-shell, with cups of horseradish and cocktail sauce on the side.
Severus shot a look at the elf, who deftly deposited the platter on the table. Hermione immediately grabbed a drumstick and ate it rather noisily.
"Will that be all, Master?" Eli said, grinning at his Lord.
"Yes," Severus said, looking down at the oysters, then back at the elf rather suspiciously. "That will be all."
Eli bowed low and disappeared.
"What is that damn elf up to?" Severus thought as Hermione helped herself to another drumstick.
Hermione looked at the oysters on the platter, then at the Potions Master.
"Oysters?" she asked, one eyebrow raised as she looked at Severus. The Potions Master looked down at the glistening mollusks.
"Apparently Eli thought we might have a taste for them," he responded. He selected one and spooned a bit of horseradish and cocktail sauce. Lifting the shell, he slurped it down quietly, and chewed, a look of bliss on his face. He loved oysters, and not just for their purported aphrodisiacal qualities.
"You certainly seem to enjoy them," Hermione said, noting the look of pleasure on his face. She rarely saw him with that expression. It made quite a difference. She wondered if he looked like that during…ah shit. Stop it Hermione.
"Yes, I have always liked oysters. Actually I happen to appreciate a wide variety of seafood," he said, preparing another oyster for consumption. Hermione looked at him speculatively.
"Do you think they work?" she asked him.
"Does what work?" he responded, slurping down the next oyster and chewing appreciatively, that look of pleasure back on his face.
"Oysters. Do you think they help the libido?" Hermione asked.
Damn. The witch was asking a lot of tantalizing questions. Didn't she realize she was in mixed company? Mixed company who didn't have much access to young, beautiful, inquisitive women asking him questions of a sexual nature.
He looked at her.
"Actually, no I don't. I believe that the purported effects of oysters are nothing more than psychological. The person who eats them is already in the frame of mind to have sex. The oysters are used as an excuse, and nothing more," the Potions Master said, eating another one. They certainly were good. He gestured toward an oyster.
"Have one?" he asked Hermione.
The witch looked at the slimy mollusks doubtfully.
"I've never tried one. They look so…so nasty," she said, wrinkling her nose.
Severus met her eyes. She thought she detected a bit of heat behind his look.
"Miss Granger," he said in a rather silky, seductive voice, "Some things that appear to be 'nasty' are in fact quite enjoyable once you experience them."
Hermione swallowed reflexively. Did the Professor know how sexy that statement sounded?
Severus did. And he regretted it when he saw her eyes flicker at him. He just couldn't help himself.
"I'll try one," Hermione said, looking down at the oysters with some doubt in her eyes.
Severus prepared an oyster for her, and handed it to her carefully. So she wasn't afraid to try something nasty. Gods, he needed to go.
Hermione looked down at the oyster, swimming in its own elixir, looking for all the world like snot. She looked up at Severus, who was watching her with amusement in his eyes, and something else she couldn't identify. She looked down at the oyster again, took a breath and slurped it noisily out of its shell. She chewed. A look of surprise crossed her face.
"Hey, that wasn't bad!" she said after she swallowed. "I want another one, please. With a little more horseradish this time."
The Potions Master showed Hermione how to prepare the oyster, and she slurped down several in quick succession, exclaiming how good they were. Soon the mollusks were gone. Severus looked at her consideringly. Not only had she enjoyed the oysters, but had instantly decided what changes were necessary to make them taste even better for her. He couldn't help wondering if she were like that with every new experience? Probably. She was certainly like that with things cerebral. Always looking to improve a spell or whatever she put her hand to. He thought she might be quite demanding sexually as well…telling her lover what he needed to do to make it better for her…
The Potions Master was ready to get out of Hermione's rooms. His thoughts toward her were not the thoughts of a patron anymore. He looked at the witch and noted she was getting rather sleepy-eyed. Her hair was tousled, and she had a slight flush from the cognac. Her eyes were half-lidded. She looked quite accessible like this. Quite desirable. Suddenly the witch yawned and stretched, her breasts jutting out in a rather alarming way as she arched her back. Severus looked away for a moment.
"I'm done," Hermione said sleepily. She rose, a little unsteadily. Severus stood to give her assistance.
"No, no. I'm fine," she said, waving him away. "I'm just going to go to my lonely bed and pass out. Good night, Professor."
She walked down the hall without a look back and disappeared into her room.
Severus stood there for a moment. Her lonely bed? Was that some kind of invitation? No. He didn't think so. She would have lingered longer. Said something seductive. He couldn't have gone to her anyway in good conscience. It was just as well.
He turned to leave, then hesitated. He didn't hear any noise coming from Hermione's bedroom. There should have been some as she prepared for bed, but there was nothing. The Potions Master made a motion to walk down the hall, then stopped. He listened again. Nothing. Quietly, as if creeping up on some snogging students, he walked down the hall and peered into Hermione's bedroom. She was in the bed, the covers draw across the middle of her body. She was naked and must have divestoed her clothes, fallen in the bed and drawn the covers over her, falling asleep instantly. All the important parts were covered.
Her legs were quite long for her to be such a small witch. Her hair was all over the bed as she lay on her back, the shape of her naked breasts and thighs were hardly left to the imagination due to the light silk sheet that covered her. The Potions Master looked at her admiringly for a while, thinking she was the most beautiful thing to come to his Manor in a long, long time.
Suddenly realizing he was invading Miss Granger's privacy in a very real way, the Potions Master left her doorway, trying to wipe the image of her lying there so invitingly out of his mind. He was wicked, but he wasn't wicked enough to take advantage of her while she slept. The thought had crossed his mind to gently lift the sheet and see what she looked like completely naked, but that was too lecherous even for him. She was there to serve a purpose. And that purpose had nothing to do with his tool. But he needed a woman tonight. Now. He left the table as it was. The house elves would straighten everything out. Wrapping his robes around him, he apparated to Knockturn Alley.
The Potions Master appeared in front of Madam Asmerta's House of Pleasure, better known as "The Diggs"
The Diggs was a three level brothel. The lower basement level contained small rooms or cribs. A stairway led downstairs from the front sidewalk. The main level of the brothel had larger rooms and parlors connected by massive pocket doors, which could be opened to create large parlors for parties, but closed up again to create individual rooms. The top level contained several large rooms and suites and a large open balcony with skylights.
Tiny rooms opened directly into Knockturn alley, and four large cribs where prostitutes stood in the doorways, enticing customers. The brothel remained open for business twenty-four hours a day. The prices were negotiable depending on the services requested. For the standard "quickie" the charge was three galleons. For Severus, however, the Madam Asmerta boosted the price to five galleons, because the Potions Master was never quick, and rode her girls to exhaustion every time he visited.
Severus entered the brothel by the main door, ignoring the women calling to him from the cribs. He preferred to go to the lobby and select his woman from those presented there. The ones outside were not as clean as the girls who were inside. As he entered the lobby, Madam Asmerta floated from behind the counter to greet him, fluttering her eyes and adjusting her large pink boa. Madame Asmerta was a woman past her prime, a peroxide blonde, heavily made up, wide-hipped and street-wise, a former prostitute with a flair for business. She built the Diggs lying on her back, and ran the brothel like a finely tuned machine. The range of women there ran from common street whores to beautiful call girls, who could escort a wizard to any function and be a perfect lady the entire night…until she hit the bed that is.
She danced up to Severus.
"Well, Professor. It's been quite a while since you've visited us. About six months I estimate," she said smiling up at him.
Severus scowled down at her. He found Asmerta crass and hated the cheap perfume she practically bathed in. The sooner she got away from him the better.
"I require the usual, Madam Asmerta," he said, dropping several galleons into her outstretched hand. The Madame walked behind the counter and dropped the coins into a slotted wooden box. She gestured toward a hallway covered with hanging beads.
"The girls are in there. You know the routine," she said.
Severus pushed the annoying beads aside and looked down the hallway. Both sides of it were lined with chairs, and in the chairs sat women, waiting to be selected. Women of all types and shapes. Most wore too much makeup for Severus' taste, and one of his first acts was to scourgify it off.
The women eyed the tall, somber, black-eyed wizard that slowly walked past them. Some recognized him and sank down in their seats, hoping he didn't notice them. He was too much work. Severus noticed a short, brown-haired woman in a flowered dress who seemed quite curvaceous. He walked up to her.
"Stand up," he said.
The woman rose. He looked her over. She had nice sized breasts, a small waist, and wasn't caked in make-up.
Severus whirled a long finger. "Turn around," he said.
The woman faced the wall. Hm. Nice ass too.
"You can turn back around," Severus said to her. The young woman looked up at him a bit apprehensively. Most wizards didn't do this. They just grabbed her and took her to her room.
"How old are you?" Severus asked her.
"Twenty-six," she replied, in a rather high voice. He looked at her. She had brown eyes.
"How many men have you shagged today? And don't lie to me. I'll know," he said to her in a steely voice.
"Only three. Quickies," the woman gulped.
Severus studied her for a moment to see if she were lying. He looked into her mind. She had lied. She had been with four men, but they were quick screws. Good enough.
"You'll do. Where's your room?" he asked, taking her possessively by the arm. She pointed down the hall.
"Number thirteen, right down there," she said in a low voice. He had quite a grip on her. She hoped he wasn't the kind of john that liked to hit women when he shagged them. Some paid extra for that. Asmerta never told the girls beforehand either. It was always a surprise. They got a bonus for it, but that never made up for the pain.
Severus walked her down the hall to room thirteen, opened it and pushed her through. He closed the door and proceeded to check the room thoroughly. He checked the loo, the closet and under the bed. He tested the window to see if it were locked, then put a ward around the entire room. It was already silenced. He turned to look at the prostitute, who was standing there, trembling. She was scared of him, certain he was going to do something awful to her.
Severus began to unbutton his robes.
"I'm not going to beat you," he said. The woman stopped trembling and pulled her dress over her head. She had on a black thong, which she removed, revealing a fine brunette bush. Yes, she did have a very curvaceous body. Her breasts were a little less firm than he liked, but that was to be expected with all the pawing they went through. Anyway, there wouldn't be any foreplay. He was not making love to this woman. He was paying her for sex. There was a no kissing rule as well. But Severus wouldn't kiss a prostitute anyway. He knew where her mouth had been.
He peeled off his robe, and went to work on his shirt. He looked up at the woman who was just standing there.
"Sit down on the side of the bed," he said, undoing his cuffs and taking off his shirt. The woman's eyes widened a little as they passed over him. He was lean, but very muscular. She wouldn't have thought that. Maybe he wouldn't be so bad. Most wizards she ended up with were old and flabby. At least he was a wizard in his prime.
Severus walked up and stood close in front of her.
"You know what to do," he said, looking down at the woman. She unfastened his pants and slid them down his thighs, then pulled down his boxers. Then gasped.
"Maybe you should be paying me," Severus said smirking a little as the woman stared at his huge organ. He whispered a spell, and felt the protection wrap around his member. Wizarding STDs were bad news.
The prostitute didn't reply. This was not going to be an easy john. Not at all.
Severus thrust his hips forward. The woman lifted his tool and slid her warm mouth over it. Severus leaned his head back and sighed as she sucked him. She wasn't that great at it though, and he had to help her, grasping her ears instead of her hair and pulling her over him the way he liked. The ears gave better control. He did this with her a little while, but it was obvious she wasn't going to make him come, so he stopped. He stepped out of his pants and boxers. He looked at the woman.
"All right, get in the bed. On your back. And I don't want you faking an orgasm. I don't need that," he said, climbing in after her.
Severus moved between her thighs on his knees and pulled her hips up to rest on his thighs. She wasn't very wet, so he whispered a lubrication spell and slid inside her. Yes, she was moist and warm, if a little loose. He started thrusting into her, watching her breasts bounce as he increased his speed and depth. She started making noises that weren't in sync with what he was doing to her.
"Don't fake it," he said to her. The woman stopped making the exaggerated noises, but her breath was sharp as he hit bottom. The real noises started soon enough when he threw her legs over his shoulders and tore into her, taking her violently, bouncing her body off the bed, his eyes closed, nostrils flared and veins bulging out of his neck as he rode the prostitute. She was screaming, but he hardly heard her, he was so intent on getting his own release. He felt her gush around him and started pummeling her harder, his back arching as he strained into her. He was watching her now, noting her brown eyes were full of tears. Yes, he really was a hard john. And he didn't let up on her, tears or not. This was her choice of employment after all.
The prostitute came again, and Severus pulled out of her, and turned her over.
"Get on your knees and put your head down," he said.
The gasping woman complied and let out a shriek as he slammed into her roughly from behind. The Potions Master grabbed her waist and pulled her over him as he stroked into her deeply, his body slapping against her buttocks loudly. Sweat flowed down his body as he buried himself in her over and over, her cries muffled by the pillows. She began to slump, and he wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her up as he continued to ride her. The Potions Master rode the exhausted woman a long time. Her cries were whimpers now. At last he felt the familiar tightening, and blew, pleasure coursing through him as he emptied himself inside the woman, pressing deeply inside her, filling her with so much come, it dribbled out around him. When he finished, he pulled out of her and climbed out of the bed, removing the protection spell and scourgifying himself.
Severus dressed magically. He reached in his pocket, took out a galleon and flipped it to the exhausted woman, who despite her state caught it expertly and smiled at him weakly. Most wizards didn't tip. He looked at her.
"Do they have male prostitutes here?" he asked her, remembering Hermione.
The woman nodded.
"For women?" he asked, thinking the men might be for gay patrons.
The woman nodded again.
Without another word, Severus exited the room.
The Potions Master walked through the brothel, barely noticing the other patron or girls. He did what he came to do. Physically, his body was sated. But he wasn't satisfied. He was never satisfied with this, but it was all he had. It had been years since he had a woman he could kiss, caress, explore and gods, taste. He loved oral sex. But he couldn't bring himself to do so with a prostitute. Some wizards did, but not him. He pushed his way out the main door, ignoring Madam Asmerta's goodbye. It was sex, yes, but empty sex. There was no connection, no feeling. No sense of being wanted. And that is what he missed the most…someone wanting him and needing him to touch her. But his life choices screwed that up royally. Yes, there were women who would sleep with him…indeed, marry him…for his money. He'd rather do prostitutes. At least they were honest about wanting his money.
Severus wrapped his robe about him and apparated back to the Manor. He was tired, depressed and wanted to go to bed.
Both Severus and Hermione slept in late that Sunday, both exhausted for different reasons. When Hermione dragged herself back to consciousness, her head felt as if it had a vise around it.
"Did I really eat oysters last night?" she groaned, holding her head. She looked at her bedside table. A bottle of sober-up potion sat waiting.
"Thanks, Eli," Hermione muttered, reaching for the bottle and opening it. She turned it up, draining every drop of the marvelous restorative. Instantly, she felt fine. She sighed. Yes, she had really tied one on last night. And she had been teasing the snarky Potions Master terribly. She hoped he wasn't mad with her. She had left him quite abruptly. But when it was time to go, it was time to go. She stood up, the covers dropping off her nude body. She stretched, and popped her neck.
"You are certainly a shapely young woman!" the mirror exclaimed.
Hermione smiled at the glass. She sort of liked the talking mirror. She wondered if it were charmed to say just the right thing? She walked into the loo, used the facility and hopped in the shower. She stepped back so she wouldn't be caught under the stream as she mixed the water, then took a long, soothing shower, washing and conditioning her hair. Then her mind turned to what she would be facing tomorrow and everything came down on her again. She planned to head back to her flat this afternoon and think what she would say to the Ministry tomorrow. Staying at the Manor had been nice, but she had her real life to get back to. There was a lot to do. Apartment hunting for one. She would pick up one of the magical flats-to-rent books on the way home. They were great. The book automatically updated itself as flats became available. If she saw a flat she liked, she could instantly contact the landlord through the book and send her basic information and get a reply if the flat was available and secure it. She was going to be looking for one that did not require security or advance rent. There were a few of those available from time to time. Sounded like a plan.
She dressed in traditional robes and walked out into the study. The house elves had been there, cleaning up the food and drink, and putting away the folding table and chairs. She was about to exit her rooms and head for the upper manor when she heard her name called. She pulled the mirror out of her pocket and stared down at it. Severus' face was looking back at her.
"Good morning, Professor," she said.
"Good afternoon, Miss Granger," he replied.
Oh, she hadn't realized she'd slept so late.
"Good afternoon," she corrected as she grinned at the Potions Master. He raised an eyebrow at her.
"Are you hungry, Miss Granger?" he asked her.
"Starved," she answered as her stomach growled in agreement.
"I'll be down to get you in a moment, then. Wait for me," Severus said, his image fading.
Hermione was relieved. She wasn't looking forward to walking up all those stairs. Suddenly Severus appeared with a crack. He looked at her.
"No muggle clothing today, Miss Granger?" he commented, looking over her green robes with approval.
"Nope. I am celebrating my witchiness today," she said. She took his arm.
"I'm starving," she said. He nodded and they apparated directly to the rose covered veranda.
A pile of ham sandwiches with lettuce, tomato and mustard was waiting for her, along with a pitcher of ice-cold pumpkin juice and a liter of milk. There was also fresh fruit. Hermione plopped into a chair, not waiting for Severus to pull it out, and lit into the sandwiches. Severus sat across from her and watched her inhale the food. For a little woman, she certainly had a large appetite, and was well into her second sandwich before she said a word.
"I'm heading home this afternoon," she said, "back to the flat. This has been wonderful but I have to think about some things realistically. I need to be home to do that," she said.
"I understand Miss Granger, and tomorrow is going to be a rough day for you at the Ministry," the Potions Master replied, biting into a sandwich and looking at it thoughtfully as he chewed.
"This is quite tasty," he commented. He looked up at Hermione, who had a faraway look in her eyes. She was probably thinking about what she would have to face at work tomorrow. He decided to change the subject.
"Ah, Miss Granger, I made an inquiry for you last night…" he said hesitatingly.
Her amber eyes focused on him.
"An inquiry?" she responded.
"Yes," he said looking at her evenly, "About the availability of male…er…companionship at the brothel. It is available."
He watched her closely.
Hermione looked thoughtful. He went to the brothal last night. Funny, he didn't look any more relaxed than usual. She decided to pursue the conversation.
"Really? Do you know how much it would be?" she asked him.
The Potions Master was taken aback, but recovered quickly. He imagined the rates were the same.
"Well, for a straight forward encounter without bells and whistles, I believe the rate is three galleons," he replied. He couldn't believe he was telling her this.
"Well, if the Ministry lets me go, I'll have a final paycheck. Maybe I'll treat myself. I'm going to need something special to help me get through this," she said, taking a bite out of a slice of orange and chewing slowly.
The Potions Master didn't respond. He was thinking about how those encounters really were. In all probability the male prostitutes probably had the same constraints as the women did. There would be no kissing and probably no foreplay. Their actual job was to get the client off and out so they could handle as many customers as possible. Miss Granger's encounter was likely to be quite disappointing. He knew how he always felt after visiting the brothel. Empty.
"Miss Granger…how can I put this delicately? Paid sex isn't as satisfying as you may think it is," he said haltingly.
"What do you mean?" she asked him, "You use it all the time."
"Only because it is the only option afforded to me. You see, Miss Granger…selling is a business like any other business and the participants are more into it for quantity rather than quality…"
Hermione narrowed her eyes at the Professor.
"You sound as if you are trying to discourage me, Professor," she said accusingly.
The Professor shrugged.
"Possibly, Miss Granger," he replied, eating a grape and chewing it calmly as he looked at her.
"Why?" Hermione asked him sharply.
The Professor swallowed and said, "Because it has been my experience that it isn't as satisfying as one might think."
"Yet you have been visiting brothels for years," she retorted. He was starting to piss her off with his double standard. Men.
The Potions Master sighed tiredly. "Only because it is my only option, Miss Granger."
Hermione studied him.
"Tell you what, Professor. Why don't you just let me worry about what satisfies me, ok?" she said with finality. The issue was closed.
The Potions Master nodded, though inwardly he was cursing her stubbornness. To him, her going to a brothel was such a waste. She was the kind of woman a man could take his full pleasure with, but she was willing to have a cold, emotionless encounter with a paid stranger. And when she found herself unfulfilled, it would probably affect her work, since it would definitely affect her state of mind. Then he brightened. The lab would be set up next weekend, and Hermione would be excited about that. The thoughts of the brothel would be nicely knocked out of that formidable brain of hers.
Hermione rose from the table.
"Professor, I'll be going now. I'll contact you tomorrow evening and let you know how everything goes at the Ministry," she said. Severus rose.
"Let me escort you outside then, Miss Granger," he said, walking around the table and stopping by her side, looking down at her. He had enjoyed having her at the Manor these past two days.
They walked down the long corridor toward the main doors.
"Construction on the lift will begin tomorrow. I am entrusting Eli to oversee the workmen. He is really quite good at it. He doesn't allow anything to remain undone. I am fortunate to have him," Severus said.
Hermione thought she detected a little fondness in the Potions Master's voice. The Professor? Fond of a house elf? In an alternate universe maybe. She looked up at him.
"I will also be contacting Mr. Longbottom to acquire his services in setting up the terrarium lab. Hopefully he will be able to begin this week," he added. Hermione began to brighten a bit.
"That would be wonderful," she breathed. The Potions Master smirked. He was getting his little genius back.
"And the lab equipment will be delivered early Saturday morning. They will begin setting it up immediately. I hope you will be staying Friday night so you can be here when it arrives and oversee the setup. I have no idea what you want," he said smoothly.
"I'll definitely be here," Hermione said, smiling at him brightly. Good, she had forgotten her troubles for the moment. Severus opened the door and let Hermione pass through before following her out. They walked to the end of the portico together. Severus bowed to the witch.
"Until next weekend Miss Granger," he said softly. He was moved to kiss her hand, but did not. It wouldn't be appropriate.
"Next weekend, Professor," Hermione said, smiling. And with that, she disapparated.
Hermione apparated to a small wizarding shopping center first, to pick up a free copy of the rent-a-flat book. Then she headed for home.
The witch appeared in front of her flat with a crack of thunder following her arrival. Several of her neighbors were outside and looked at her when they heard the sound of apparition. She smiled and waved, but they looked at her coldly and did not respond. More believers of Rita's article. She sighed, unwarded and unlocked the door to her flat and walked inside.
She plopped down on the couch and began to sift through the book. She found several promising flats, and sent messages to the landlords. All of the responses were immediate. "Unsuitable Applicant" was the reply. Hermione tried something. She changed her name and sent the same request and received a "Suitable Applicant" and a small month-to-month lease, and identity verification form. So…she was being blacklisted from flats as well. Great. Just great.
She sighed. She couldn't believe all these problems arose just from her associating with the Potions Master. At Hogwarts, she had never seen this side of his life. There he was a respected, if feared Professor and member of staff. His service to the Order was held in high esteem. She hated the unfairness of it all. The unfairness to her, and the unfairness to the Potions Master. If the Ministry intended to let her go tomorrow, she'd be sure to give them an earful before she left. She wouldn't be cowed and sent slinking from the Ministry with her tail between her legs. Fuck Rita Skeeter and her accusations. Fuck the Ministry and their political machinations. Fuck the entire wizarding world if necessary. She was going to have her say and when she left the Ministry, she intended to leave it with her dignity intact.
Lucius Malfoy finished buttoning his robes. He looked in the mirror on the dressing table and adjusted his collar. Satisfied, he turned to his wife who lay in the bed watching her husband getting ready for work. He looked down at her coldly.
"Be here, in this room, in this bed when I return this evening, Narcissa," he said, "I don't want to have to go looking for you. You know how that displeases me."
Narcissa looked up at her husband's cold, gray eyes. There was no love there.
"Yes, Lucius," she said softly.
He disapparated, on his way to the Ministry.
Narcissa lay there for a few minutes, making sure Lucius didn't return. Painfully, she slid to the edge of the bed. She lifted her gown and looked down at herself. Her thighs were red and her sex swollen. Her husband did not make love to her. He brutalized her. He was angry she had not yet conceived an heir. She rose from the bed and made her way to the loo. She walked to the shelves and removed a bottle of healing draught. She sat on the loo, opened the bottle and let it pour over her thighs and core. She saved a little to put in her douche, to take care of the rawness inside. She sighed, and blinked back the tears that threatened to fill her blue eyes.
A sudden hard look crossed her face as she rose, exited the loo and walked to her dressing table. It was covered with beauty supplies and numerous bottles of perfume. She selected a large bottle of scent, picked it up and unscrewed the top. She put it to her lips and swallowed it down, then recapped it and put the bottle back in place. It was a powerful, undetectable contraceptive. She had paid a lot for it, but it was worth it. Lucius had killed her beloved son, she'd be damned if she were going to put another child within his reach.
Narcissa knew Lucius was a loyal deatheater through and through when he served the Dark Lord. She turned a blind eye to it, and to his other indiscretions. This was the way the wives of Malfoys existed for years. They were only there to breed heirs. After they did so they were given large expense accounts and the freedom to take lovers as long as they were discrete. After Draco had been born, Narcissa had been for the most part relieved of her wifely duties to Lucius. He only took her now and then to relieve his urges. He had never loved her. But she was an acceptable wife to bear his child, coming from a good pureblood family.
Narcissa was at the trial when Hermione told how Lucius had murdered her son. She heard the conviction in the witch's voice, and saw the anger flashing in her eyes. The girl had obviously cared about Draco. The hatred in her eyes as she looked at Lucius was palpable. Lucius had simply sat there, his eyes narrowed, looking at the witch. When he was on the stand, he simply said he didn't remember killing his son and broke down in crocodile tears. That very evening, Narcissa contacted the apocathery in Knockturn Alley and requested the expensive contraceptive. She had been taking it for almost eight years, and would continue to take it until her womb dried out. Lucius would never plant another child inside her. Never.
"Hurry up, Bozo!" Rita chided as she ran as quickly as her heels would allow her to get to the Ministry. There was a small crowd outside, trying to get in and find out what the Ministry was going to do about Hermione. Rita and Bozo pushed their way through, flashing their press cards, and squeezed past the Aurors guarding the doors. Rita's heels clicked as she walked quickly down the hall towards the boardroom, where the inquiries were held. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks stopped her at the door. Both of the Aurors were members of the Order.
"Can't go in Rita," Tonks said, grinning at the reporter, "closed inquiry."
"Closed? Closed! That's not right. The people have a right to know!" she screeched, trying to push her way past Tonks. Kingsley gripped her tightly by the shoulder. The black wizard looked down at her.
"Well, the people are going to have to wait until the inquiry is over, Miss Skeeter. Now either you go over there and sit down," Kingsley said in his rich, deep voice, nodding with his head toward some folding chairs set against the wall, "Or you go out the door. Your choice."
"Well, I never!" Rita huffed, shrugging her shoulder free of Kingsley's grasp and walking over to the chairs and throwing herself into one, fuming.
"I bet she has," Tonks whispered to Kingsley, who chuckled.
Tonks looked at the closed door to the boardroom.
"This is a bit of nasty business, Kingsley," she said. "They're going to bounce Hermione out on her ear. You know she wouldn't pass secrets, and you know Severus would never give secrets to deatheaters. He hates them more than anyone in the wizarding world."
Kingsley nodded. "Yes, but he never got a fair shake, Tonks. You know how they treat him. Give him a medal and then treat him like shit for doing what no one else could or would do. If this job didn't pay so well, I'd quit. I'm tired of the Ministry's bullshit."
"Me too, Kingsley," Tonks said. They both fell silent as Hermione approached them. She had pushed her way through the jeering crowd and been informed she was to report directly to the boardroom.
Rita Skeeter spotted her and jumped up, running toward her, the quick quotes quill following closely. She started shooting questions at Hermione.
"Miss Granger, do you have any comment about why you are being brought before the board? Are you guilty of the accusations made against you? Have you any other plans for employment in the Spells industry in the event you are let go? How do you feel about being called before the board? Do you have a defense…"
Hermione, who had been trying to walk past, turned to the witch, her eyes blazing.
"Get the FUCK away from me Rita, before I cast an Unforgivable on you!" she shouted at the witch, who fell back instantly. Bozo snapped a picture of the snarling witch.
"Did you hear that, Bozo? She threatened me, she threatened me with an Unforgivable!" Rita gasped, holding her large, mannish hand to her breast while nervously adjusting her jeweled spectacles.
Hermione continued walking toward the boardroom. The witch stopped in front of the two Aurors, who both looked at her sympathetically.
"How you doing there, girly?" Tonks said to her softly, wishing she could embrace the witch.
"Not so good, Tonks," she replied. She looked at Kingsley.
"Hi Kingsley," she said shortly. The wizard's brown eyes swept over her. They were sad.
"Hey there Hermione," he replied. Then with a sigh he asked, "You ready to go in?"
Hermione nodded.
"All right then," he said. He and Tonks pulled open the double doors wide, and Hermione walked into the boardroom. At the front of the boardroom was a long table, at which sat the twelve board members, and the Minister of Magic in the center. There was a box similar to a jury box on the left wall. All the department heads sat there, frowning at her. In front of the board was a small, uncomfortable wooden chair. Every eye was on Hermione, looking at her soberly.
The Minister, Phineas Figglesworth, cleared his throat.
"Welcome, Miss Granger. I suspect you know why you are here this morning. Please take the seat in front of us," he said gesturing toward the hard, wooden chair. Hermione sat down stiffly and looked up at the board members. Her eyes moved slowly across them until they fell on Lucius. Then they went hard as diamond. Lucius sneered at her, malice in every line of his handsome face. He had the mudblood now.
Minister Figglesworth spoke. "Miss Granger, we are not going to mince words here. What is your relationship to Severus Snape, the deatheater?"
"You mean Severus Snape the Spy and War Hero, don't you?" Hermione shot back. "You did give him an Order of Merlin First Class for his service to the wizarding world."
"Just answer the question, Miss Granger!" Lucius snapped impatiently. He was not going to allow the woman to turn this hearing into a Snapefest.
"Professor Snape and I have a business arrangement. He is helping me with a project," she stated shortly.
"And what is the nature of this project, Miss Granger?" Lucius shot at her.
She frowned at the blonde wizard.
"It is a private project, Mr. Malfoy. I would rather not divulge its nature. I will just say it is very important. Extremely so."
The Minister leaned forward.
"Do you mean to tell us, Miss Granger," he said, a frown on his face, "That you refuse to tell us the nature of this project you are working on?"
"Yes, sir. I have a right to privacy. What I do outside the Ministry is my own affair," she stated firmly.
This reply was met with much muttering between the board members and the department heads.
"Miss Granger, have you told Lord Snape about any of the spells you've developed for the Ministry? Spells that our Aurors use to track and defeat deatheaters?" another board member asked her, his eyes accusing.
"Of course not. Why would I do that? He has no interest in what goes on at the Ministry. We only discuss our project," she responded.
"A project you refuse to divulge!" Lucius shouted. "So how do you explain all of the recent deatheater escapes, Miss Granger?"
Hermione looked at Lucius as if he were crazy.
"I don't know. Perhaps they were just lucky, Mr. Malfoy. And I know for a fact that one of the locator spells the Aurors are using is faulty, and sends a trace signature to the person being tracked, one that can be felt. I reported it, but was ignored," she shot back at him.
The board members shuffled through some paperwork on the table in front of them. The paperwork contained the names of all the spells Hermione had worked on in the past two years.
"There is no notation of a report on a problem with a spell listed here, Miss Granger. All complaints are carefully notated," the Minister said with an accusing eye.
"Not if they are trying to push a spell through to reach their quota," Hermione said, looking her department head straight in the eye. He turned his head away from her accusing gaze.
"Now you are making accusations against your department, Miss Granger? Let's just stick to you, all right?" said the Minister hotly. Hermione fell silent but looked at him defiantly.
"Why did Lord Snape give you a two-way mirror Miss Granger? To contact him and give him information?" Lucius asked, his face red with anger. The witch wasn't cowed at all.
"No. He gave it to me because sending messages by owl was too slow," she responded.
"So you could discuss this clandestine project you are working on," Lucius said.
"Yes." Hermione replied.
"Miss Granger, every since you have been in our employ, our attempts to capture deatheaters have been less and less successful. Now we find you have a clandestine association with Severus Snape, a two-way mirror and refuse to tell us the nature of your relationship. What does that look like to you?" the Minister asked her.
"It looks like you are trying to find a scapegoat on which to blame the Ministry's inadequacies, that's what it looks like. I have done nothing wrong, and Professor Snape has done nothing wrong either. He would no sooner help a deatheater than you would!" Hermione declared firmly. "If anything, you should be watching Malfoy. He's the resident deatheater here!"
"HOW DARE YOU!" Lucius blustered, rising from his chair, his face mottled with rage.
Behind Hermione, the door quietly opened. Severus slipped in.
"How dare I?" Hermione yelled back at him, rising from the chair now and facing the board.
"I dare because you all are a bunch of stuffed shirts with no backbone. You all know Professor Snape risked his life for the wizarding world for almost twenty years, forced to serve Voldemort so he could bring back information that saved the lives of thousands, and eventually helped bring the Dark Lord down. He was beaten, tortured and forced to do horrible acts all in the name of the Greater Good. Yet all of you treat him as if he were inherently evil. He wasn't evil. He was forced to serve evil for the greater good. For all of us. Our freedom from tyranny. Every act he committed he committed to make the wizarding world free of Voldemort one day! If it weren't for Severus Snape we would all be under the thumb of the Dark Lord today, not that Malfoy would have minded. He would have been his right hand man! You all publicly praised him, yet anytime a deatheater attack happens you bring up his name and draw it through the dirt, questioning his loyalty when he has already proved it. He is covered with the scars of his loyalty. He suffered to help us, and has more reason to hate deatheaters than anyone here. He sold his soul for us! And you…you filthy cowards wouldn't send a single Auror to help him when the final battle came down, but you take this murderer…"
Here Hermione pointed at Lucius
"…and place him on the fucking board! And then you make anyone who associates with this noble man, this selfless man who never had a thought of his own safety or asked for any reward for what he's done, you make them suspects too! So no one goes near him. No one will be a friend to him out of fear they too will be ruined. You placate him with a medal then ruin his life! You bunch of fucking hypocrites!"
Hermione drew a deep breath as she glared at the shocked and silent board.
"You know what? I'm not going to stand here and wait for you spineless bastards to fire me because I associate with the greatest hero in the wizarding world, on the word of some trash-writing bitch of a reporter. You don't have to fire me. I FUCKING QUIT!"
The board burst out in shouting and arguing as Hermione kicked the chair over and stormed out of the boardroom, right past Severus, who was looking at her with his mouth open. He looked up at the board and met Lucius' hatred filled eyes. The Potions Master smiled at him, and exited the room.
Hermione was facing off with Rita Skeeter when Severus emerged from the room. Tonks and Kingsley were standing back, their arms folded with no intention of interfering.
Rita was unwisely trying to get a comment from Hermione.
"Rita, if you know what is good for you, you will back the fuck away from me. I have nothing to say to you," Hermione said calmly…but she was shaking with fury. She had drawn her wand. Severus sensed she was about to blow. He strode up to the witch and took Hermione by the arm.
"Hermione, let us go," he said gently. Hermione looked up at him in shock.
"Professor, what are you doing here?" she asked.
"I didn't want you to face the board alone. But it seems it was the board who needed support," he said, smirking at her.
"Oh, how sweet! How noble. The deatheater comes to support the spy!" Rita sneered. Kingsley had to catch hold of Tonks wand arm. The Auror was livid for her friends. The bitch.
Severus' black eyes raked over Miss Skeeter distastefully.
Miss Skeeter," he said softly, "The day is going to come when you are going to have to retract all what you have written about Miss Granger and I, and apologize in front of the entire wizarding world for your wrongful, hateful claims against this woman. I guarantee that day will come. Now come, Miss Granger. Let's get out of here."
They began to walk away.
At that moment the boardroom doors opened and Rita turned, ready to approach the board members for comments.
Hermione pulled away from Severus and pointed her wand at Rita's backside.
"Tuckus Gigantus!" she said.
Suddenly, Rita stopped walking.
"What! What?" the reporter cried, whirling around and facing Hermione, who turned and continued to walk away.
The back of Rita's tight dress began to undulate. She spun around, trying to look behind her.
"Bozo! What's happening?" she cried to the photographer who was looking at her wide-eyed.
Suddenly the back of her dress began to stretch. Her ass was swelling to an enormous size.
"Oh my gods! Help me Bozo!" Rita screeched, trying to cover her growing buttocks with her large mannish hands. But they weren't large enough.
Hermione and Severus continued walking toward the door. There was a tearing sound and a horrible scream. Rita's ass had torn through her clothing and was sticking out in all its swollen glory. It was huge. Screaming, she backed up against the wall trying to hide the crack of her humongous butt. There was a flash as Bozo took a picture of her. He was a photographer after all.
Severus and Hermione pushed through the crowd, which was now trying to find out what all the screaming was about. The witch and wizard passed through them unmolested.
Severus looked down at her.
"What in the world did you do to Rita?" he asked her.
Hermione grinned. "She's such an asshole, I simply enhanced that ass-pect of her personality," she said, then chuckled. "There's no counterspell. It'll wear off in a week or so."
Severus shook his head. Hermione certainly was a wonder.
POSTED ON THE DAILY PROPHET FRONT PAGE; EVENING ADDITION
[ PHOTO
Columnist Rita Skeeter Attempts to Hide Enormous Buttocks Against Ministry Wall
Photo by Bozo Baggins
PROPHET COLUMNIST RITA SKEETER STRUCK BY UNCONVENTIONAL CURSE
Daily Prophet Columnist/Report Rita Skeeter was the victim of an unregistered hex cast by an anonymous individual while pursuing a follow-up story at the Ministry of Magic this morning. Miss Skeeter was struck by the hex in her buttocks, which then grew to enormous size.
Healers at St. Mungo's are unable to identify the spell which was cast on Miss Skeeter and as a result, her buttocks are still suffering the effects of the 'butt enlargement' spell, as the hex has been tentatively named by staff. She is currently residing at the hospital under observation.
Miss Skeeter's column "What's Happening in the Wizarding World" had been temporarily suspended during her convalescence. It will resume when the reporter's condition improves.
Severus escorted Hermione back to her flat, then apparated back to Hogwarts. Dumbledore offered to cover his morning classes for him, so he could go to the Ministry and offer Hermione support. He now sat in his private study before the fireplace, staring into the flames and waiting for the afternoon classes to start. He had a couple of hours yet. His mind turned to the spitfire named Hermione Granger.
The Potions Master knew Miss Granger had a temper, but he had never seen it in full force until today. Hermione was so angry when she stood before the Ministry officials; he had feared she might hex the entire board. Severus had to admit she looked like an avenging angel in that boardroom, her amber eyes flashing, hair and robes swirling about her, voice raised in condemnation. She was beautiful in her wrath. Absolutely beautiful.
He witnessed her defense of him firsthand. It wasn't for show. She had no idea he was present when she blasted the board. He couldn't believe the things she said to them about him. Miss Granger was the first person to ever take those in power to task for the unfair treatment he received at the hands of the Ministry and the wizarding world. She understood. Miss Granger really understood what his life was like.
During her tirade, Miss Granger had brought up a point that Severus had never thought about, since he focused so much on the terrible acts he had to perform in order to keep his cover as a loyal servant of the Dark Lord. His information had saved many lives, even before the downfall of Voldemort, who had planned many devastating attacks on public events and large gatherings. Severus had given the Order warning and these attacks were thwarted, saving hundreds, maybe thousands of innocent people. That had to count for some good against his soul. The weight he carried lifted slightly at this revelation.
The Potions Master's eyes glazed a bit as he thought of the passionate young witch. Miss Granger was proving to be something more than just a brilliant mind. She had the potential to be much more than the means to an end for him. He was in Hermione's debt for her actions today. She had selflessly shown him the respect he so desperately needed and deserved by standing up for her right to associate with him, going as far as to say he was the greatest hero in the wizarding world, a title normally reserved for her friend, Harry Potter. Miss Granger would have never said such a thing if she didn't believe it fully. She had given up her job for him, and opened herself up for criticism and blacklisting. It was one thing for him to manipulate her into such a position and have Ministry remove her because of her association with him, but Miss Granger had known what standing by him would cost her, and rather than try to salvage her own reputation by giving them the information they wanted and turning her back on him as so many had done before, she left the employ of the Ministry.
The Potions Master rubbed his face with his long, pale hand. Miss Granger was now in the position he wanted her to occupy. No job, no home and no resources. He was sure he could convince her to move into the Manor. But it seemed the stakes had changed. He very much wanted to help the witch find the solution to the Killing curse, but now, there was something more he wanted. Her.
Until Miss Granger, he had been resigned to his lot, to his life of loneliness, darkness, guilt and misery. But her very presence had changed his outlook. Just the idea of her coming to the Manor made him feel strong enough to throw off the onus of his association with the Dark Lord, and reclaim his Manor. And he had done that. He had lived in darkness, literal darkness for eight years, and in one week, Miss Granger had brought life and light back to his ancestral home. If not for her, he would still be hiding in the dungeons of Hogwarts on the weekends, instead of enjoying the home of his forefathers.
Miss Granger had a rare gift, the ability to instill hope in others. She challenged everything, believed all things could be improved, and worked tirelessly to prove that claim true. She was a very special young woman. Severus now realized that Miss Granger held the key to his redemption in more ways than one. With her in his life, he could reclaim more than the Manor, he could reclaim himself. He desired the young woman and wanted her for his own. Her mind, her body and if possible, her soul.
This was not carnal need. This was not the mindless hunger that drove him to the brothels to seek out any female body that he could thrust into until he came. This was a growing, focused desire for a woman that for once didn't originate from his randiness. It was his mind that was enamored of Miss Granger. The mind could be the most seductive and sensual organ of the body.
Hermione Granger was the perfect package. Brilliance, passion and beauty all wrapped up in a curvaceous five foot three body. Physically, she was the exact type of woman that attracted Severus. Small of stature, but having generous feminine attributes. Miss Granger was curvaceous, spirited, and sensual. Best of all, she was unattached and not looking.
Now that he admitted to himself that he wanted Miss Granger, Severus wanted to decipher what it was that had her in her current, manless state. He was a calculating man. Much like Hermione, he believed that logic could solve most difficulties. If he could identify the problem Miss Granger had with relationships, he might discover the solution, and better his chances of attracting and keeping her. He had the opportunity to see Miss Granger grow from a child into a woman, and knew quite a bit about what drove her from his observations. The desire for knowledge and challenge, yes. But Miss Granger most of all, wanted to make a difference in the world. Change it for the better. A worthy pursuit.
He knew she wanted personal happiness, but it seemed as if she were willing to sacrifice her personal needs for the greater goal of making the world a better place for all. In fact, judging by her frank interest in the brothel, it seemed she had resigned herself to a life of loneliness, and was attempting to find logical substitutions for what she felt she would never have. Much like him. And maybe that was the key. The similarities between them. Hermione was so desperate to experience intimacy, she was willing to pay a man for the simulation of it. He couldn't say his use of the brothel was for the sake of intimacy. Doing prostitutes was not an intimate act in his estimation. But he did go there to experience and physically enjoy the body of a woman.
Women were different than men in their approach to sex. Women wanted intimacy and sex was a means of acquiring it. Men wanted sex and by fulfilling a woman's need for intimacy, they acquired it. At least in ideal situations. Looking at this logically, it appeared that he and Hermione each had needs that could be fulfilled by the other, if given a chance. But Severus wanted more than sex. He had been having empty sex for years. He wanted to be wanted. He wanted to know that when he touched a woman, his touch ignited her…and when he entered her, it was because she wanted and needed him inside her, to make her feel fulfilled and whole. Severus Snape realized he wanted to be loved. It was a painful admission. Who could love a man who committed so much evil, even if is was for good?
Someone who understood what he went through. Someone willing to stand by him when the world shunned him. Maybe someone like Hermione Granger. Severus made his decision. From this point on, he would do his best to reach Hermione, make her see him in another light. If he had to resort to seduction, he would. He was not a handsome man by any stretch of the imagination, but his face had character. He was also aware he did have attributes that were considered attractive, even sexy to women. When he was a Death Eater in good standing, before his change of heart, he attracted women like gadflies. After his conversion to spy, he had little interest in their advances, he was so deeply enmeshed in serving the Order. And after the death of Voldemort, he became a pariah, and no decent witch wanted to be involved with someone of such dubious and ruinous reputation. So he turned to the brothels.
But the attributes that attracted women were still there. His smooth, silky voice for example. He was aware of the effect it had on women. A few even told him he could bring them to orgasm by words alone. He had tried it, and found that claim to be true. He had the kind of voice that others reacted to. Rich, seductive, and persuasive.
Then there were his hands. They were sure, precise, meticulous. Many times he had caught women looking at his hands when he prepared potions. He was quite talented with his hands and could use them to bring great pleasure as well as pain. He knew the power of touch, and was very familiar of its effect on the body. He could take a woman over the edge with his hands alone. He needed to find ways to bring his hands in contact with Miss Granger. Possibly an innocent shoulder massage one tense evening in the near future. He would be sure to leave her wondering how his hands would feel if applied to other, more intimate parts of her body.
His black, intense eyes were another source of attraction. When he looked at a woman, she often felt as if he could see down inside her soul. The Potions Master could tell much about an individual with his gaze, reading body language and deciphering what the person was feeling almost in an instant, even without legilimency. He would be able to tell if Miss Granger were becoming attracted to him just by looking at her. He could also project his own emotions and desires with his eyes. Miss Granger would be able to see he wanted her soon enough.
He had other little known attributes. He wore his severe robes almost all the time, so few were aware of the well-toned condition of his body. Those who served the Dark Lord knew. They had often disrobed him in preparation for punishment. His build rivaled that of younger wizards half his age. He was cut, lean and had well-defined musculature, having developed the habit of working out while in the service of the Dark Lord. He indulged in swimming, isometrics and when he felt like it, running. Staying in shape helped him survive the countless applications of the Cruciatus curse Voldemort had inflicted on him, as well as the many whipping and beatings he received when his loyalty was questioned, which was constantly. He was sure Miss Granger would appreciate the condition he was in. He needed to find a way to show off his body. Maybe invite her for a swim. Yes, that was an idea.
And then, there was his tool. He was well endowed, had stamina, and knew how to use his tool to satisfy a woman thoroughly and unmistakably. He had no doubts that he could meet Miss Granger's physical needs beyond her wildest dreams. She didn't need to pay a man to please her. If given the opportunity, he would feast on her delectable body as if she were a banquet and he, a starving man. Perhaps, when the time came and she wanted to act on her desire to visit the brothel, he could convince her to let him be the one to bring her pleasure, free of charge. No woman who looked like Miss Granger should ever have to pay a man to have sex with her.
Severus looked up at the clock. It was almost time for his next class. He rose from the armchair and headed for the Potions classroom, tucking away his thoughts about Miss Hermione Granger for later perusal.
Hermione sat on the couch in her flat, apparently gazing at nothing. The Professor had dropped her off at home. They had apparated outside her flat, and the Potions Master gave a quick farewell and disapparated back to Hogwarts to attend his afternoon classes. Hermione looked around. Again her neighbors were outside. But this time, when they turned their accusing eyes on her, she simply looked back at them coldly, stuck her nose in the air and entered her flat, slamming the door behind her. She had nothing to apologize for.
Now she mentally went over the events at the Ministry. She had really lit into them. She realized that it was always her intention to do that, ever since the article came out. They had passed her over for quite a few promotions in recent months, and she knew it was because she was muggle-born. She had been feeling the effects of the Ministry's unfairness and bigotry long before she got involved with the Potions Master.
She looked at the pile of updated resumes that rested on the coffee table in front of her. She had a feeling that they were a waste of parchment. The members of the board would certainly make sure she was blacklisted from the Spells industry. Her only real hope was to find the key to the pitcher plant's resistance to the Killing curse, and turn it into a defense against the Unforgivable. If she made that discovery, every terrible lie they put out about her would be quickly retracted. And they would probably try to bring her back into the fold again. But she wouldn't ever return to the Ministry's employ. Not ever. She saw the way they treated their own. The blatant bigotry and favoritism. Look at how they had Lucius Malfoy sitting on the board. If there was anyone in the Ministry likely to leak information to the Death Eaters, it was that twisted fuck.
Her thoughts turned to the Potions Master. He had shown up at her hearing to support her. He was willing to face the Ministry board to try and protect her good name. It had to be rather painful to stand before the wizards and witches who publicly defamed him time and time again, while their worthless medal hung someplace in the Manor. But he had come. Because of her. She wondered how much of her tirade the Professor had heard, and how he felt about it. She hoped he felt good. It had to be nice to hear someone stand up for him and what he did for the sake of others to his own detriment. She meant every word of what she said. Even the part of his being the greatest hero of the wizarding world. Yes, Harry defeated Voldemort in the final battle, but the Professor had been fighting against Voldemort for years, and Harry would have never defeated the Dark Lord without the Professor's input. In fact, Harry might have been dead if not for the intelligence the dark wizard provided, which allowed Dumbledore to keep Harry out of harm's way.
When Harry was in hiding, it was Professor Snape who was punished for his absence. Hermione remembered nights when the Professor came back to Hogwarts from being summoned, broken and screaming, his body wracked with seizures, bones cracking from the violence of his tremors as he fought off the effects of the Cruciatus curse the Dark Lord cast upon him. How he suffered then, pale and shuddering in a small cot in the corner of the infirmary, with no one to comfort him. Sometimes though, Hermione sat beside him and held his cold, shaking hand without his knowledge. If he had seen her, he would have driven her away, not wishing her to see him in his time of weakness. He was a bastard yes, but Hermione believed him to be the bravest wizard she'd ever known. Even then, she felt the unfairness of his situation. And now, years later he was still subjected to it. He may not be getting blasted by the Cruciatus curse daily, but there were other kinds of pain…such as being confronted publicly and accused of evil and wrongdoing by a person he risked his very life to protect. Hermione shook her head. It was just too terrible. Professor Snape should be celebrated, not ostracized by the wizarding world. He was a noble, brilliant, self-sacrificing hero, and there were few who respected what he did for them. She was glad she told those idiots what she thought of them. She was glad she was out of the Ministry.
She sighed. What was she going to do now?
"Miss Granger?" came a familiar voice. It was the Professor. She pulled out her mirror and looked into it. There was the Professor's face, looking somber.
"Hello, Professor," she said, giving him a little smile.
"How are you holding up?" the Potions Master said, his dark eyes concerned.
"For someone who's lost almost everything, I'm doing ok," she replied.
The Professor looked at her consideringly for a moment. Then he spoke.
"Miss Granger, I was wondering if you might stop by Hogwarts this evening. I have something I wish to discuss with you, and would rather do it face to face," he said.
Hermione considered. Visiting Hogwarts again would be nice. And it beat moping around her flat the whole day, exchanging glares with her neighbors and feeling sorry for herself.
She looked at the Potions Master.
"What time?" she asked him.
"Six o'clock," he replied,
"All right, I will be there," Hermione replied.
"I will meet you by the main gates. The wards have been changed since you last visited the castle," Severus said, "Try to get some rest, Miss Granger. You have had a trying day."
"I will, Professor. Bye. Connection closed."
Sitting at his desk in the Potions classroom between periods, Severus continued to watch Hermione through his mirror. She was seated on her couch, apparently deep in thought. She didn't look sad, just contemplative. He was glad of that. He had decided that he would waste no time offering her a place at the Manor until she could get back on her feet. It would take away the burden of worry that was bound to fall down on her as the end of the month approached. He ended his observation of her and put the mirror away. He leaned back in his chair, folded his hands on his chest and waited for his students to arrive.
At precisely six o'clock, Hermione apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. True to his word, Professor Snape was waiting for her.
"Hello, Professor," she said, smiling at him. She really was pleased to see him. His presence was oddly comforting.
"Good evening, Miss Granger," the Potions Master replied, taking her hand and kissing it gently before releasing it. Hermione's eyes went wide. She had seen the Professor greet women like this before, but never her.
He smirked at her, his dark eyes dancing a bit.
"Don't look so surprised, Miss Granger. After your speech on my behalf at the Ministry, you warrant a more formal, respectful greeting from me. You were my champion after all," he said smoothly.
Hermione blushed.
"I only told them the truth, Professor," she said softly as he opened the gate for her. She looked up at him. "How much did you hear?" she asked him.
He looked down at her with a strange light in his eyes as they walked toward the castle.
"I heard enough, Miss Granger to know you feel outrage at my situation. For that, I am grateful," he responded, before turning back to face the castle.
Hermione walked beside the tall wizard in silence, thinking about his response.
"You know, Professor…that is what I hate," she said, an edge to her voice.
"What do you hate, Miss Granger?" Severus responded, looking a bit perplexed.
"The fact that you have to feel 'grateful' for common human decency toward you. As if you don't deserve it, when you do. I hate that you have become used to being mistreated. I never realized it before, but you expect nothing good from people. And it's caused you to become cold and unfeeling, when you could have been a very kind and caring man," Hermione said looking up at him.
The Professor considered this. She thought him cold and unfeeling. This was not the case. He decided to correct this misconception of him.
"Miss Granger, I assure you I am as capable of emotions as anyone else. I am just cautious in opening myself up for more disappointment and hurt by others. Yes, I am used to mistreatment, and I don't expect much from others, but to say I am cold and unfeeling is wrong, Miss Granger. I can be quite…passionate and demonstrative about some things." He was thinking about his desire for Hermione when he said this.
Hermione looked up at him curiously. "Such as?" she asked, wondering what would make the snarky Professor show feelings.
Severus was a bit taken aback. He hadn't expected Miss Granger to question him on this. He had to think fast. He looked down on the witch, his black eyes intense.
"You will be in my presence quite a bit in the coming months, Miss Granger. You will be able to see for yourself what moves me as we work toward finding a solution to the Killing curse. You will have to wait until then," he said silkily. Good save.
Hermione expected an answer like that. She didn't expect the Potions Master to open up fully.
Instead of turning towards the main entrance to the castle, the Potions Master walked toward the right side of the edifice.
"Where are we going?" Hermione asked.
"There is a secret entrance to the dungeons on the side of the castle. I utilize it when I don't want to be cornered in the main hall by students or other staff members, " he said
They walked a little further, the grounds dipping lower. Severus suddenly turned sharply and approached a vine-covered section of the castle. He held out his hand.
"Alohamora," he said, and a section of vines and wall swung back, revealing an entrance to the castle. But Hermione wasn't looking at the secret door, she was looking at the Potions Master.
"You do wandless magic," she breathed. A wizard had to be very powerful and focused to use magic without a wand. "What else can you do, Professor?" she asked as they walked through the door and Severus pushed it closed. He looked down at Hermione.
"I can do anything that can be done with a wand, the only exception being the Killing curse," he responded, then added as he looked at Hermione's wide eyes, "What do you expect of a wizard that disdains silly wand waving?"
"But you use your wand all the time," said Hermione
"It's a habit. I didn't want the Dark Lord to know I could use wandless magic. It carried over. Plus I don't want others knowing how powerful my skills are. It would only add to my problems," he said as he wandlessly unwarded the Potions office and let Hermione in.
Hermione could only imagine the consternation it would cause if the Ministry found out that even disarmed, the Professor could do magic. Just another nail in the casket of his reputation.
She stood in the middle of his office and watched as he pulled a tome partially out of the bookshelf on the far wall. The shelf opened inward, revealing a secret door.
"My study," the Professor said, gesturing for her to enter. He followed behind her.
Hermione's eyes swept the room. Shelves of book lined the walls from floor to ceiling. There was a desk in the far corner of the room, the ever-present liquor cabinet, a sofa, and two comfortable armchairs set before the fireplace, with a small table between them.
Hermione was startled as the Professor pressed his hand gently against the small of her back and guided her to one of the armchairs.
"Please, be seated Miss Granger," he said, removing his hand. Hermione could still feel the pressure of it, tingling against her skin through her robes. It was an odd feeling, but not unpleasant. Hermione shrugged the sensation off as her just not being used to contact with the dark wizard.
"Can I get you something to drink, Miss Granger? A Cognac perhaps?" the Professor asked her.
"A Cognac would be delightful, Professor. I could use a good drink after today," she replied.
The Potions Master walked over to the liquor cabinet and prepared two cognacs. He carried them back to the armchairs and handed a glass to Hermione before folding himself into the other chair. They both took an appreciative sip of their drinks. Hermione set her glass down on the table and looked at the Professor expectantly.
"Now, what did you want to talk to be about, Professor? Does it concern the project?" she asked.
Severus let his eyes wash over her before he answered.
"In a way, yes," he replied a bit evasively, fueling Hermione's curiosity.
"In a way? What way?" she asked impatiently.
The Potions Master leaned forward and turned in the chair to face her squarely.
"I would like you to move into Snape Manor, Miss Granger," he said, his black eyes glittering.
Hermione's eyes widened, and her lips compressed to a tight, thin line. Her brows began to draw together. She started to speak but Severus held up his hand to stop her
"Miss Granger, before you give me a flat out 'no' let me state my case," he said.
Hermione settled back in her chair, a little frown on her face.
"Ok. Let me hear your case," she said. She didn't seem too up for it however.
Severus took another sip of his cognac, then set the glass down and fixed her with his most compelling gaze. He began.
"Miss Granger, up until the point you invited me to peruse your research, everything was going fine for you. You had a job you were satisfied with, and a flat of your own. Your only problem was continuing your worthy project. The moment I enter your life, it is turned upside down and you lost your job and your residence, at a time when your resources are low. Not only that, your good name has been besmirched publicly, and you become a recognized public figure of ill-repute."
Severus looked at her keenly. The witch was listening, betraying nothing with her expression. Severus continued.
"I tested a rent-a-flat book with your name yesterday. I received an "Unsuitable Applicant" response to every inquiry I sent out. Even with the more expensive apartments, your name was instantly turned down. Obviously, you have been blacklisted and will be unable to find a suitable dwelling until the onus connected with your name has passed. An onus that you wouldn't have if not for me."
"As far as your job goes, you weren't actually fired, but driven by your outrage to suddenly resign, thus cutting yourself off from any benefits you could have collected if you had been released. If not for your association with me, Miss Granger, you would have never been brought before the board and accused of giving information to Death Eaters. So currently, you have no income and again that is due to me, regardless of your choice to leave the Ministry."
"You have been spending your money on keeping your project alive, and as a result have no resources to fall back on, since all your potential savings went to continuing your work. So you have no resources. I am not responsible for your lack of resources, but if not for me you wouldn't be needing extra resources in the first place."
"Miss Granger, I am an onerous, sarcastic, and bitter man, but I have never, ever shirked my responsibilities. If I have caused someone to suffer needlessly, I do my best to make restitution in a fair, and timely manner. I know you are an independent young woman, and would not like to rely on another to provide for you, but in this case, Miss Granger, I will not be 'providing' for you, I will simply help you until you can get on your feet, since I am the reason they were swept out from under you in the first place. As I see it, Miss Granger, you will not be able to find employment in your field, and I would hate to see you as a clerk earning minimum wage in some squicky establishment. It would be demeaning and put you up for public criticism and scorn. In all honesty, you might not be able to procure even that lowly position, people being the way they are."
"Your only hope of restoring your life, Miss Granger, is to develop the solution to the Killing curse. Once you have done that, the nature of our association can be revealed, and you will receive the accolades of the wizarding world and be welcomed with open arms wherever you choose to go. Employment will not be a problem. Every Spells Company will want you. It is a logical step then, in your efforts to restore your life to a state of sanity, to utilize the rooms I have provided for you, and dedicate all your time to your research and development of the Killing curse solution. You must remember, as your patron and partner, any and all costs will eventually be recovered upon the successful completion of this project. The amount of money that will be made will dwarf any expenditure that I put out, so in all reality you will not be living here for free. I will recoup everything and then some, Miss Granger."
"The only other argument I can see about you staying in the Manor, is what it could do to your personal reputation. You may be accused of being my paramour and that I imagine to you would be a horrible designation, to be considered the lover of someone with my background and reputation by the wizarding public, but even that is a moot point, because you are already under that onus as well. People believe we are more than business partners, so your reputation is effectively ruined again, until you complete this project. Staying at the Manor will allow you to devote the necessary time you need to finish the work. So you see, Miss Granger, I have logical reasons for asking you to stay at the Manor."
He hesitated a moment, then continued.
"The only other downside is that Hogwarts will be letting out for the summer and I will also be here. If you allow me to actively work with you, then I may be of some assistance, but I am equally ready to stay here at Hogwarts for the duration of the summer months if that would make you more comfortable with the arrangements. This project is important Miss Granger, I am sure you are aware of this. We need to do all we can to facilitate a successful conclusion. So please, consider my offer to stay at Snape Manor. It is the only option you have that makes sense."
He stopped talking. Hermione just looked at him.
"I'm finished," he said, a little lamely.
Hermione's eyes swept over the Potions Master. He had put forth sound reasoning concerning her staying at his Manor. She noticed he looked a bit nervous. That was a new one. Generally he was very self-assured. It was obvious her response was quite important to him. He was right. She didn't want to be under anyone's thumb, but the way he explained it, she would not be. She would spend her time working on the project, and actually that was something she had secretly longed to do, devote all her time and effort to the challenging work. She couldn't because she had a 'real' life. She had to earn money. Staying at the Manor would free her from that, and she could be guilt-free because she knew her patron would recoup his expenditures. But what about money. What could she do for that? She asked him.
"What about money?" she asked. "I can't expect you to give me money, Professor. Then I really would be a 'kept women' even if we aren't lovers."
Severus had been prepared for this.
"We can do one of two things, Miss Granger. I could pay you a salary to work in the labs on the project, but that would take away your partner status, and I would have all rights to the research and the counter spell. I do not like that idea. The second option is I advance you a sum of money in an account of your own, and recoup it when the project is successfully completed and made public. I like this far better. It is an acceptable business practice, and allows you to maintain our association. I am very willing to do this, with the condition that you do not try to control the amount of money advanced. You leave the amount up to me. It will be adequate I assure you."
Here Hermione snorted. The Professor would no doubt fill an entire vault with galleons. He was far too extravagant with money. But she would control the actual spending. Just because he put it in there, didn't mean it would all have to be used. Still, since it would be an advance, it wasn't like he was taking care of her. It was a loan that would be paid back.
"I guess that could be acceptable," Hermione said, still frowning at him slightly.
Severus was jubilant at this concession. The witch leveled her amber eyes at him and didn't say a word for several minutes. Normally he was a relatively patient man, but the waiting for her to give him an answer was pure torture. Finally, he could take it no longer.
"Miss Granger," he said with a hint of irritation, "Please, what is your answer? Will you come stay at the Manor?"
Hermione took another sip of her cognac, and sat staring at the glass thoughtfully. She was, of course, purposely drawing this out. It was rare she had such an advantage over her ex-nemesis. Hermione had more than a little bit of bitch in her.
"Miss Granger…" Severus said, imploringly this time. That's the note she was waiting to hear in his voice.
"Very well. I will stay at the Manor for the duration…" she said.
The Potions Master was about to say something when she cut him off.
"But…you will come stay at the Manor during the summer months. I refuse to run you out of your own home," she said, her amber eyes meeting his black ones. Then she started.
The Professor was smiling. Actually a full-blown smile that went from his mouth to his eyes. He had a beautiful smile. It changed his features entirely in a very pleasant way. Hermione cocked her head at him. He must have used some of the wizarding teeth whitening products over the years. His teeth weren't white when she was at Hogwarts. Of course, she couldn't help herself from teasing him.
"Professor! You're…you're smiling! And your face didn't crack!" Hermione said.
Severus immediately scowled at her.
"Miss Granger, not only did you imply that I do not have human feelings when we arrived this evening, you now imply that I cannot smile without causing some damage to my person. As you saw, I most certainly can. You have insulted me twice, so far. If this is how you are going to constantly dehumanize me while at the Manor, I can assure you, you will never see me smile again," he sniped at her.
But inwardly his smile was as broad as ever. She had accepted!
Hermione looked at him consideringly. His smile had been a glimpse into the man he could have been if not for all his troubles. She thought she would like to see him smile like that again sometime.
"You know Professor, I think you never smiling again would be a real shame," she replied.
She held up her glass to him. For a moment he just stared at her, confused.
She made a little forward motion with her glass, and he understood.
The Potions Master picked up his glass and clinked it against Hermione's.
They both drained their glasses, their eyes locked. They were agreed. Hermione was moving into Snape Manor.
And Severus' life.
The installation of the lift at Snape Manor went off without a hitch. Eli was the perfect overseer, not allowing the workmen to slack off, but keeping them well supplied with ample amounts of food and drink. At first the work-wizards were dismissive of a house-elf as a representative of the Master of the Manor, but when Eli lifted and pulverized a large hunk of rock that weighed several tons with a simple flick of his hand, they became much more respectful in a surprisingly short span of time. The elf had them test and retest the lift until he was satisfied. Now when the suit of armor's right arm was pulled down, the wall slid back to reveal the stairwell, but to the right was the lift door which could be opened with a series of presses on the stone. It was a rather quick lift, and riders needed to be prepared for the startlingly fast drop to the lower rooms.
On Tuesday morning, Neville Longbottom was wiping a bit of water off the front counter of his flower shop, when a raven swooped in the open double doors, landed on the very spot he just cleaned and cawed loudly at him, sticking out its leg. Neville removed the parchment from the bird's leg carefully (that beak looked sharp), and read the message, turning several colors in the process. It was a letter from the most dreaded teacher he ever had the misfortune to be a pupil of…Professor Severus Snape. A rush of frightening memories washed over the sensitive young wizard as he read the signature on the page. It seemed the Potions Master wanted him to come to his Manor and help to set up an indoor terrarium of great size. Cost was not a factor. Wow.
Neville shook a little in reaction. He might have turned the job down but for two things. First, the obscene amount of money the Professor was willing to pay him, and secondly the fact that he would be working closely with Hermione Granger. Neville had a terrible crush on the brilliant witch though he knew she was way out of his league. Still, the opportunity to just be in her presence was enough to lead him to swallow down his fear and accept the Professor's term. He would visit the Manor every evening after work and help set up the lab. The letter also said he would be required to take a Wizard's Oath concerning his work there. Neville didn't have a problem with that. He had set up terrariums for wizards and witches that required Oaths before, particularly if they were growing restricted plants.
He was to arrive at the Manor for his initial visit on Wednesday evening, meet up with Hermione and do a consultation and examination of the area he had to work with. He would learn what types of plants would be bred when he got there. Neville quickly wrote the Professor back, accepting his offer, and attached it to the waiting Raucous who was surprisingly well behaved for once, having spent his wait time walking the counter and examining the plants on display with one round, black eye. Neville fished under the counter and gave the bird a bit of jerky. Raucous wolfed it down, squawked a thank you to the wizard and took off through the double doors.
Hermione sold her king-sized four-poster bed for next to nothing, but still was extremely satisfied. She had placed the entire bed outside her flat, and her unfriendly neighbors came over to check it out. Hermione noticed a young witch, in rather threadbare robes looking at the bed from the sidewalk wistfully. She waved the woman over.
"It's a beautiful bed," said the witch. Hermione noticed she was about six months pregnant.
"Yes, and it didn't get a lot of use," Hermione said, half-smirking. She only had it a month before she busted Galen at the brothel. "Are you interested in it?" Hermione asked the witch, who looked at the price tag sadly and shook her head. Hermione knew that look. She couldn't afford it.
With a little prodding Hermione found out that the witch was recently married, and she and her husband had a little flat, and were furnishing it bit by bit. She wasn't working now, so it was slow going. They didn't have a bed yet, and were sleeping on a full-sized mattress on the floor of their bedroom.
At that moment, her neighbor next door sauntered over. He gave the pregnant witch a nasty little once-over, looked at her as if she were trash, and dismissively stepped between her and Hermione. Hermione was fuming at his rudeness.
"Thirty galleons is too much. I'll give ya twenty fer it," he said. "And that's being generous. I know you got to be out of here in a week or so. Best get what you can for it."
He made a leering face at her. Hermione scowled at the man. Yes, she needed the money but…
Hermione peeked around the man at the pregnant witch, who was turning to leave.
"How much money you do you have in your pocket?" Hermione asked her.
The witch turned around and fished through her pocket. "Two galleons, eight sickles, and two knuts," the witch replied, showing Hermione the coins.
"Do you need to get anything out of this?" Hermione asked her.
"A bit of food," the witch replied.
Hermione took a galleon out of her hand.
"You've got yourself a bed," she smiled at the startled witch.
"What?" roared her neighbor, his face turning bright red. "You turn down twenty galleons for one? You're a right mad bird, you are!"
Hermione ignored him and wrote the witch out a bill of sale. The witch took the bill of sale with tears in her wide brown eyes.
"Thank you. We could have never afforded a bed this nice. My husband will be so pleased. His back hurts him so, you know," she said softly.
"Enjoy it," Hermione smiled at her. She reduced the bed and wrapped it up in parchment. The witch tucked it under her arm, and with another grateful thank you, went on her way.
The angry neighbor was back in his own front yard, muttering to his bulldog-faced wife. Both of them glared over at Hermione, who stuck her tongue out at them. They swelled indignantly as the witch walked back into her flat and closed the door. At least the bed would be used by a couple who loved each other.
She felt pretty good about herself.
Hermione brought all of her belongs to the Manor on Wednesday morning. Eli, the Professor's house elf, appeared suddenly by her leg as she sat at the kitchen table, startling her so badly she almost dropped her coffee.
"Eli, what are you doing here?" she asked the elf, who grinned up at her.
"I comes to see if I can helps you move, Miss," Eli said, looking at the boxes scattered about the living room.
Hermione stood up and walked into the living room. She looked back at the elf, then at all the boxes. There were about thirty of them, mostly clothes and books. She had already sent her lab equipment to the Manor by post.
"Yes Eli, I could use a little help," she replied smiling at the elf, "it should only take two or three trips to get it all there."
"No, Miss. Just one trip," the elf said, shaking out a small fabric bag. "Is this all, Miss? Any boxes in the back?"
"No Eli, this is it," she said, looking at the elf curiously.
Waving his clawed hand in a circular motion, Eli shrunk all the boxes to an impossibly small size, smaller than the Reducto spell could have managed. He walked around picking them up and putting them in the little bag. Hermione stared at him.
"How did you do that, Eli?" she asked him in a low voice.
"It's house-elf magic, Miss. Helps us in our service, it does," he said as he picked up the last of the boxes. The little fabric bag was bulging. He threw it over his shoulder.
"Anything else needs moving, Miss?" he asked her.
"No, that was it, Eli," Hermione responded, still looking at the elf with a little awe. He certainly had strong magic.
"I will take these to your rooms and puts them away," he said to her. Then he gave her a huge smile, "Eli is pleased you are bringing hope to the Manor again, Miss. It has been too long since our Master has had hope." The little elf winked out.
Hope? What did the elf mean? She'd have to ask the Professor about it.
Hermione took a final look around the flat. She had liked living here. But, after all the only constant in the universe was change. She sighed, locked the door and apparated.
Snape Manor was her home now.
On Wednesday night, a nervous Neville Longbottom apparated to Snape Manor. His eyes went wide at the opulence of the Professor's home. He had heard Professor Snape was rich, but he never realized how rich. He walked down the portico and knocked on the door. He waited nervously, shifting from foot to foot. After a minute or two, the door opened. Neville looked about and didn't see anyone.
"You is the plant wizard?" a squeaky voice piped suddenly, making the nervous wizard jump. He looked down. A small house-elf was looking up at him. It wasn't smiling or cringing.
"Yes. Neville Longbottom," he said holding out his work order. The elf didn't take it.
"Come in," the elf said shortly, opening the door wider. Neville entered, craning his next as he looked at the great hall.
Eli looked up at Neville, his small arms crossed against his chest. He was scowling.
"You must takes a Wizard Oath not to divulge anything you sees here," the elf said with an edge to its squeaky voice.
Neville vowed not to divulge anything he saw at Snape Manor. There was a swirl of magic as the oath took hold. Eli nodded. He started walking up the hall, beckoning Neville with a long index finger.
"Follows me," Eli said shortly.
Neville followed the strange house elf. Most elves were very polite, saying 'please' and addressing guests as 'sir' or 'miss'. This house elf had not addressed him in the prescribed manner at all. Not that he minded. It was just…well…strange.
The elf walked up to a suit of armor, and raised its right arm. The wall fell back and slid to the right, revealing a long staircase. Neville followed the house elf in. Instead of taking the stair, the elf turned to the right and pressed a number of stones. A door slid open. It was a lift. The elf walked in. Neville followed. The doors slid closed behind him. There was a button in the wall facing him.
"Down we goes," said Eli, giving Neville a wicked little grin and pressing the button.
Neville lurched, his stomach flipping over and his heart flying to his throat as they dropped at an alarming speed. Eli stood beside him calmly, grinning evilly at the wizard's discomfiture, his claws clasped lightly behind his back as they descended. Finally the lift came to a halt and the doors opened. Eli and a very disheveled Neville emerged. The wizard leaned against the wall, waiting for his heart to slow. Eli stood by impatiently. As he drew long breaths, Neville noticed a white hallway in front of him, with doors lining both sides.
"Is you ready to continue to the Miss?" Eli said, his mouth turned down in disapproval.
Hermione. Thank gods.
"Yes," Neville said, nodding enthusiastically.
The house elf led him down the hall and through a door. It was a huge white room, rather humid, with a large pile of earth in one corner, and Hermione standing in the center of the room, her hand on her chin, looking thoughtful.
"Hermione!" Neville cried, rushing into the room. Eli slyly flicked a finger at the wizard and Neville tripped, falling to the floor and sliding several feet. The house elf looked up at the ceiling innocently.
"Neville!" Hermione screamed in horror, rushing to the side of the stunned wizard and helping him to his feet. She grasped Neville by the shoulders and looked up worriedly into his face.
"Are you all right?" she asked him.
Neville brushed at his robes and felt himself all over. He looked down at Hermione with a sheepish grin on his face.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Must have tripped over my robes or something," he said. Eli chuckled.
Hermione gave the wizard a hug. Eli flicked an ear in disgust.
"It's so good to see you, Neville. I owe you a lot," she looked at him, her brow furrowed.
"Did you take your Oath yet?" she asked him.
Neville nodded. "The house elf got me the minute I came in the door," he said, looking over at the elf, who stared at him stonily, his arms crossed.
"Come on, I've got to show you this!" she said excitedly, taking Neville's arm and dragging him out of the room and into another. Eli followed and stood silently in the doorway observing them.
Neville looked around. This room was painted all white also, and completely empty except for several pitcher plants that were sitting in pots on the floor. They were in pretty good shape.
"Nice," Neville said, walking over to the plants and inspecting them.
"That's not what I want to show you. Come over here and stand by me," Hermione said, drawing her wand from her back pocket.
Neville obediently walked over to Hermione's side. He was standing quite close to her, and could smell the jasmine scent of her hair. He closed his eyes leaned in and sniffed appreciatively, before pulling back a little guiltily. Eli scowled at him blackly.
Hermione made a series of intricate passes with her wand. The room became close and tight.
"What did you do, Hermione?" Neville asked her, loosening his collar slightly.
"Put a containment spell around the room," she said, pulling up her shirtsleeves.
"Wow," Neville commented. He didn't know containment spells could be so large.
He watched as Hermione's eyes narrowed, her face screwing up and brows furrowing blackly. She looked ready to kill.
"Hey…" Neville began, alarmed.
"Avada Kedavra!" Hermione snarled, casting an Unforgivable on the closest plant.
Neville staggered back, landing against the wall as the terrifying green blast covered the plant. Hermione held the spell for over a minute, Neville shading his eyes against the undulating green light. Panting, Hermione ended the spell.
Neville's eyes went round as he gazed on the uninjured pitcher plant.
"Holy Mother of Merlin," he breathed, pushing himself off the wall and walking toward the plant slowly, as if it would explode any moment. He knelt and fingered the curled leaves gently.
"It didn't die," he whispered in amazement. He turned to Hermione.
"Why didn't it die?" he asked her, his brown eyes wide.
"That's what I'm going to find out, Neville. That's what I'm doing here. I'm trying to break the Killing curse. This plant is the key to ending its evil forever," she said, her eyes shining down at the kneeling wizard.
Neville turned back to the plant.
"You'll be famous, Hermione," he intoned, "You'll be remembered forever. Imagine after all the centuries of suffering, the curse can finally be stopped."
He rose and turned to her soberly.
"Thank you," he said in a low voice, "Thank you for letting me be part of this."
"It was you who gave me the plants, Neville. You are part of this," she said, "Now come on, let's talk about the terrarium lab."
She took Neville's arm and led him out of the room. The wizard walked as if he were in a daze. This was the most memorable moment of his entire life.
Neville spent several hours listening to Hermione's needs, scratching down dimensions of the room and dividing it into cross sections, making initial sketches of an irrigation system that would provide the necessary moisture to maintain the pitcher plants swampy environment. He asked Hermione to show him the climate control area, and he jotted down some notes.
"We'll have to get bugs, Hermione. Maybe some other small swamp life. Set up as natural an ecosystem as we can. The lighting will have to mimic nature, with a day and a night cycle, sunshine and moonlight. We can divide this space into sections and I can enhance or retard the growth of different sections so you can work with the plants at different stages in their life cycles.
Neville pointed to the large pile of soil in the corner.
"We can't use that. We'll have to import the proper soil from North America. A lot of it. I'll handle those details. Do you have any Ph meters?" he asked her.
"Saturday I will. Tomorrow I will give you a list of what I've acquired and you can tell me if I need anything else," she said to the preoccupied wizard.
"Fine," Neville said a little absently as he jotted more notes, and looked around the space as if envisioning it at its completion. Finally he closed his notepad.
"Hermione, I will design you the best eco-lab I can. This is too important for half-measures," Neville said soberly. He began walking toward the door, his brow furrowed. He was in his element.
"I'm going to go, Hermione. I need to look up some things in my catalogs. I'll be back tomorrow," he said nodding to her and heading toward the lift. Eli had to run to keep up with him. The elf opened the lift door, and Neville walked on, still preoccupied. The doors closed and he was gone.
Hermione put her hands on her hips and looked at the huge pile of earth in the corner. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the dirt.
"Scourgify," she said, hoping the Professor didn't pay too much for it.
When Severus stepped off the lift Friday night, he turned around and looked at it consideringly. It was very fast. It would startle those not expecting a fast drop. He tapped his finger to his chin as his black eyes swept over the lift. He decided he liked it the way it was, turned and walked to the 'Ecolab' as the terrarium area was now designated. From the sound of it, there was a lot of activity going on in there. He glided toward the door quietly and looked in.
Neville Longbottom was at the top of a long ladder, magically adjusting what looked like a large concave mirror. A number of house elves were raking a thick, spongy, soil over what looked like a raised mesh of some type that floated about two inches off the floor. He could see a number of pipes criss-crossing beneath the mesh, and Hermione, in jeans and covered in mud, directing the planting of what appeared to be rather broad leafed grass. Something buzzed by the Professor, and he swung at it with irritation.
He watched as Neville nimbly slid down the ladder, backed up and tested the mirror. It seemed to catch the lighting and move it across the room in varying degrees. He watched as Neville smiled. Whatever he had intended the mirror to do, he must have succeeded. He watched as the wizard then walked over to the climate control and began to tinker with that, his brows furrowed in concentration. It seemed Mr. Longbottom had found his niche after all. He had been a hard student to teach. Very clumsy and very nervous, with a propensity to blowing things up, even inert materials, which was quite an accomplishment.
Severus had given him no leeway either. As a boy he was a bumbler, and Severus kept him working under conditions of stress and worry, hoping to toughen him up. But his housemates, particularly Miss Granger, would sneak to his aid in a number of ways, thus hampering the boy's development severely. One thing Severus could say about Mr. Longbottom, no matter how badly he had frightened and terrorized him, the boy never gave up and never withdrew from his class, doggedly sticking it out, no matter how dismally he failed. Although he did poorly in potions, he exceeded expectations in Defense against the Dark Arts and Charms, as well and garnered an Outstanding in Herbology. He too had been at the Final Battle, and showed well, taking out Bellatrix LeStrange, the witch who had tortured his mother and father to insanity, and flanking Harry Potter so he could reach the Dark Lord.
Hermione was certainly a hands-on witch. She was kneeling in the soil beside the house elves, working plants into the earth with her bare hands. Her hair was drawn back in a ponytail, and she unconsciously drew her hand across her brow, leaving a small streak of mud behind as she returned to her planting. Severus looked around the Ecolab. It was certainly coming along. He decided to leave them to their work. As adept as Mr. Longbottom seemed at his calling, the Potions Master was sure that his presence would reduce the young wizard back to the bumbling, student he was years ago. As much as he would have enjoyed this, Severus didn't want to hamper the work. He turned and re-entered the lift, and rode it back to the upper floors. It was just as quick ascending as descending, but if one knew what to expect, it was fine.
Severus exited the lift, walked into the corridor headed upstairs to his bedroom, where he stripped down and walked naked into the loo. After using the facilities, he took a long, hot shower, standing under the stream, letting the water wash over his lean body, and working the kinks out of his muscles. He washed, rinsed, dried off then poured a little sandalwood oil in his palm, rubbed it between his hands and applied it to his body. Then wrapping a towel around his waist, he exited the loo.
The Potions Master opened his wardrobe and looked at the clothing inside. He chose a pair of black dress pants, and a pullover black shirt. He opened the lower drawer, took out a Slytherin green pair of silk boxers and drew them on. Then he dressed himself, and walked up to the mirror to look at the result. The pants were a nice fit, and the shirt as well, both showing off his lean, muscular build in a flattering matter. The dark wizard picked up a brush off the dressing table and drew it through his fine black locks a few times, then drew his hair back and tied it into a ponytail. He put on a platinum chain that bore the Snape Family Crest. He looked in the mirror. His transformation was complete. He was officially off-duty from Hogwarts now.
He slipped his feet into his comfortable black slippers and exited his bedroom, just in time to see Neville leaving. He was talking to Hermione by the front door. The Potions Master paused on the stairwell until the wizard walked out the door. He descended as Hermione was walking back toward the entrance to the lower levels.
Hermione was elated. They had got a lot done today. She felt good about the progress they'd made with the Ecolab. She walked toward the entrance to the lower levels and was about to turn in when she heard a silky voice call her name. She looked up and saw the Potions Master walking toward her. Her eyes widened as she took in his dress. He was in muggle clothing, his hair drawn back in a ponytail. She could clearly see his lean, powerful build as he walked toward her with the grace of a big cat. She swallowed reflexively. He stopped in front of the witch, his dark eyes sweeping over her casually.
"Good evening, Miss Granger," he said silkily. She could smell a hint of sandalwood. She stared at him. She wasn't used to seeing him this way. He looked so different, more approachable without the severe robes he normally wore.
"Hello, Professor," she said, her amber eyes flicking over him, before returning to his face. "What happened to your robes?" she asked.
His black eyes met hers.
"I've decided, Miss Granger, not to dress like a teacher in my own home. I wear robes daily at Hogwarts. Here, I will dress as the Master of the Manor. Do you approve?" he asked her.
"Yes, I do," Hermione said, in a lower voice than she intended. She could see his lean, muscular build, and her mind went back to when she had watched him swimming nude. She felt a little warmth inside. Severus' black eyes didn't miss the subtle flicker. He moved a bit closer to her. Even covered in mud, she was lovely.
"Would you like to have a late supper with me?" he asked her softly, then added, "After you clean up of course."
Hermione could feel the heat coming off his body, and snapped out of her daze. She looked up at him. He was very close. Very close.
"What did you ask me?" she said, stepping back from him a bit.
"Supper," he said, his dark eyes meeting hers. He certainly had intense eyes, she thought.
"Oh, supper. Yes. Yes," she responded, "I can tell you all about our progress."
"Wonderful," Severus replied, "I will escort you to the lower rooms and wait for you to clean up," he said. He offered her his arm. Hermione hesitated.
"I'm all muddy, Professor," she said.
The Potions Master looked at her, his arm still offered.
"I don't mind getting dirty, Miss Granger," he said, his dark eyes gleaming.
Hermione felt a little jump in her belly at the possible double meaning of his comment. Was the Professor flirting with her? That statement was quite suggestive. At a loss, she took his arm and he escorted her into the lift.
As they descended in silence, Hermione's mind was working. And that wasn't all. Without his customary robes, the Professor didn't seem so much like the Professor any more. She sniffed the scent coming off of him as he stood close by her side. She could feel his masculinity, his maleness as if it were pressing against her physically. Again, her mind returned to that morning, watching him climb the boulder, water streaming from his naked body, his muscles flexing powerfully…
"Miss Granger, we are here," Severus' smooth voice broke through her thoughts. She started.
"Oh, yes," she said, letting him walk her down to her rooms. They entered her study and he released her, looking at her steadily. She continued to stare at him, not moving.
"I'll be waiting right here," the Potions Master said with a little note of 'get going' in his voice.
"Right," Hermione said, heading for her bedroom and closing the door.
Once she had the door between her and the Professor, she leaned back against it, holding her stomach. It was clear to her. She was physically attracted to Professor Snape, and very strongly so. What was she going to do? She had known the man since she was a child.
"Yes, but you're not a child anymore," said a warm and rather naughty voice in her head. "And he's no longer your Professor."
"Shut up," Hermione muttered as she divestoed her muddy clothes. She looked in the mirror and saw the mud streaked on her face.
"Good gods, I looked like this? He never said a word. He passed up a perfectly good snarky moment," she said. She thought about his remark about not minding getting dirty, and had a full body blush wash over her. He couldn't have meant that suggestively, could he?
She walked into the loo, and turned on the shower, mixing the water absently. She finally asked herself the question.
Would I shag the Professor if the opportunity arose?
She stepped into the shower, the water caressing her body. She sighed and arched into it, turning and letting it stream down her back. It felt good against her skin. She picked up the washcloth hanging on the little bar, and picked up the jasmine scented soap and worked it into a rich lather. She began to wash herself, rubbing the cloth against her skin slowly, thinking of the Professor. She ran the cloth over her face and neck, down between her breasts and over her belly, before returning to her breasts, lathering them, her nipples hardening. She sighed again, and imagined him touching her. Gods, this wasn't good was it? But it didn't feel wrong, just illicit, naughty, a sinful, but delightful indulgence. Those long pale fingers…
Severus sat on the couch in the study, riveted to the thoughts of the witch washing herself in the shower and having very erotic thoughts about his hands. His dark eyes were glittering. She had no idea what his hands could do, but obviously she thought she might like to know. So she was attracted to him. Yet he wasn't sure if it were him specifically, or her libido in general. She had been without sex for a while now. That much was clear the night they shared the cognac and she expressed interest in visiting the brothel, and paying for male companionship. He could very well be her focus right now simply because he was in the vicinity.
He wanted her to want him specifically. He needed to build up a slow burn inside her. Make her admit to herself, and to him that she wanted her ex-Professor. He would not take her unless she told him she wanted him to. The Potions Master smiled. He thought it would be a hard admission for her, and enjoyed the idea of the stubborn little witch having to admit she wanted him. He was going to love teasing her to the point of no return. He listened as Hermione brought herself to climax, and he instantly hardened. Severus looked down at himself and sighed.
He hoped he could keep his own desire under control as he subtly worked his magic on her during the next few weeks.
Severus adjusted himself hoping his arousal wasn't too obvious, and waited for Hermione to emerge. He planned to take supper on the rose-covered veranda. It was very lovely at night, with a nice view of the thousands of stars that filled the sky around Snape Manor. It would be just the right atmosphere to help make Hermione subtly realize that he could be much more to her than a patron if she were receptive. His decision to dress less like the Professor she remembered certainly seemed to pay off. She was quite taken with his appearance tonight. He distinctly saw approval in her eyes as they swept over him. Approval, and something else. Her eyes had gone unfocused for a moment, as if she were remembering something.
At that moment, Hermione walked into the study, and Severus politely rose to his feet. She wore a simple, sleeveless white cotton dress, and her damp hair was pulled back with a white hair clamp. She was barelegged and wore some floppy, rather cheap and uncomfortable looking open toed sandals on her feet. She noticed the Potions Master looking down at them with his brow furrowed. She lifted up one foot so he could see the shoe better.
"Flip-flops," she said, "Just some cheap little rubber sandals muggles wear. I like them because it's almost like going barefoot."
"Flip-flops," the Professor repeated, looking at the ugly things. "Well, the name fits them, to be sure." He looked at her. "What I don't understand is, why not just go barefoot, if that's what you want?"
Hermione blushed a little.
"Just doesn't seem appropriate here in the Manor," she said.
Severus sighed.
"Miss Granger, for all intents and purposes this is your home now. If you wanted to walk around nude you could."
He wouldn't mind seeing that.
Hermione smiled, shaking her head.
"That would probably scandalize the house elves, not to mention you," she said.
The Professor raised his eyebrows.
"I have nothing against a little scandal, Miss Granger," he purred at her as she colored again. He looked down at her feet. "Take off your…flip-flops. I would rather see you barefoot than in those detestable things."
Hermione liked walking around barefoot. She had ever since she was a child. She bent one leg, then the other, removing the flip-flops, then wriggled her toes. She looked up at the Professor. He was smirking at her.
"So, was your shower…satisfying?" he asked her, one eyebrow arched.
Hermione got a very uncomfortable feeling as she looked at the Potions Master. She had brought herself to orgasm thinking about his hands touching her body. She wondered how he'd take to the idea of her fantasizing about him like that? She imagined his response.
"That is highly inappropriate thinking, Miss Granger! We have a business arrangement! And I do not fondle former students!"
"My shower was fine. I feel good, but I still have a kink in my shoulders from all the planting I did," she replied, hunching her shoulders a bit.
The Professor looked at her, consideringly.
"I may be able to help you work out that kink later on, Miss Granger," he said, rather provocatively. .
This time, Hermione's belly did a full flip at the suggestiveness of that comment.
"I am very good at massage," he finished.
With those hands, Hermione didn't doubt it.
"That sounds nice. I'm awfully tense," she said a little weakly. She certainly was. The Professor held out his arm again.
"Shall we go, Miss Granger?" he asked her, his black eyes seeming to hold an even deeper question.
"Yes," she breathed, taking his arm, aware of his muscles. He placed one large, warm, masculine hand on her arm as they walked toward the lift. It felt as if waves of heat were rippling out from where his hand touched her. Hermione drew in a breath to keep from reacting to the seemingly innocent touch of skin on skin. This was male contact. Not much of it, but enough to get her going. Severus was aware of her reaction, however.
"How do you feeling about Orange Duck, Miss Granger?" he asked her.
"I love it," she replied, smiling.
"Good, because that is what we'll be having," he said as the entered the lift. He pressed the button and they rose quickly to the main floor of the Manor. The doors open and they emerged, the Potions Master still politely holding Hermione by the arm, guiding her into the corridor and down to the veranda.
They walked out on the veranda. Hermione looked at the table. The food was already prepared. There were platters of sliced, crispy orange duck, wild rice, snow peas, and smoked salad of wilted greens, goat cheese medallions, roasted beets and walnut vinaigrette. A bottle of Domaine du Pegau '01 also graced the candlelit table.
The Professor pulled out Hermione's chair for her, and she sat down, looking at the delicious spread before her. It all looked so good, and she was starved. The Potions Master sat across from her, the candlelight softening the features of his face as he looked at her. The flame of the candles were reflected in his dark eyes, and Hermione felt her stomach clutch. He looked very attractive from where she was sitting. The Professor was thinking the same about her.
"Dig in," he said.
Hermione filled her plate with the delicious food and tucked in. She made little appreciative sounds as she ate, something that would normally irritate the Professor, but in this case he found it rather nice, listening to her unabashed sounds of pleasure as she consumed her meal. It was something primal, welling up from within her and it pleased him immensely. It meant she was relaxed enough to be herself around him. He ate rather quietly, but the food was exquisite.
The moment they finished, Eli came and cleared the plates away.
"I is bringing dessert," the house elf said and popped away.
The Potions Master tapped at his mouth delicately with a napkin, sat back in his chair and looked at Hermione, who licked her lips at that precise moment, the tip of her tongue sliding over her small, full lips in a very provocative manner as her amber eyes met his. She picked up her glass of wine and took a sip.
She set it down and said, "That was delicious, Professor," and smiled at him.
Eli reappeared, and quickly put two bowls on the table and winked out before anyone could say anything to him. The Professor looked at what the elf had brought for dessert.
Bananas and long stemmed cherries.
"This is totally unacceptable!" he muttered, about to bellow for Eli, who actually was standing just inside the double doors. Hermione stopped him.
"No, this is fine. I prefer fruit to a heavy dessert," she said, picking up a banana.
Inside the Manor, Eli smiled and winked out.
The Professor watched as the witch peeled the banana, pulling down the yellow skin slowly and deliberately, her amber eyes focused on the long, pale fruit as she revealed it. Severus groaned in the back of his throat. Hermione looked up at him.
"Did you say something, Professor?" she asked innocently. She knew precisely what she was doing. She was testing the waters. Most men reacted very physically to watching women eat bananas. She wanted to see if the Professor was like most men. By the sound he just made, she assumed he was.
"Ah, no," he said, reaching for a cherry. Two could play at this game, he thought. He brought the cherry to his mouth, and licked it with the tip of his tongue, his eyes on Hermione, who had paused in devouring her banana to watch him. He sucked the cherry between his lips, turning it over expertly with his tongue. Hermione's eyes were glued to his mouth as he manipulated the small fruit. He caught it between his teeth, then caught it by the stem with his fingers, sucking the fruit into his mouth neatly and separating it from its stalk.
He chewed blissfully and swallowed.
"I love cherries," the Potions Master said silkily, looking the dazed witch in her eyes.
Hermione had been thinking some very dirty thoughts as she watched the Professor work the cherry between his lips, and was aware of a bit of heat between her thighs. He certainly could use his tongue. She realized they were both playing a very dangerous game. And it gave her a thrill. She slowly brought the banana to her mouth and wrapped her lips around it. Now it was the Professor's turn to burn.
She slid the banana into her mouth a ways, her eyes locked to his. He had a very strange look on his face. His nose seemed to get bigger as it flared. He looked a little like a randy bull. Hermione stifled a chuckle as she drew back her lips a little, and let the Professor see her teeth holding the fruit lightly. She nibbled the banana a little before she took a slow bite, then began to chew normally as he expelled a long breath. She would like to have taken a peek under the table to see if there was a noticeable reaction, but she just gave him a little half smile.
Not to be outdone, Severus plucked another cherry out of the bowl, and this time put the entire fruit into his mouth, closing it and working his jaw a little. After a few moments, he stuck out his tongue, the cherry on the end of it, the stem tied neatly in a knot.
"Shit," Hermione breathed to herself. She bit her lip.
"Professor?" she asked in a low voice as he pulled the knotted stem off the cherry then consumed it.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" he replied, looking at her with those dark eyes.
"What are we doing?" she asked him, her amber eyes half-lidded. That knot had nearly done her in.
He leaned forward and leveled his gaze at her. There was heat in it. A lot of heat.
"Complicating matters, Miss Granger," he replied, "definitely complicating matters."
A/N: Hmm. Eli picked quite a dessert, didn't he? Lol.. Please review and let me know what you thought of this chapter.
