A/N: Heh heh *nervous laughs* Yeah well, here we are. I know it's been ages. I had originally planned to post this for Christmas but fate would not have it soo...here ya go! When I originally wrote this chapter, it was a lot shorter, and now that I look back, boring. I've revamped it however, so I hope you like it. If you wanna get in the mood of the writer, I listened to these songs on loop while writing this: "There There" by Radiohead, "1904" by Benjamin Francis Leftwich, and "High Road" by Broken Bells. Enjoy!
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Chapter 4: Repercussions
She was everywhere. Her body was scorching against his own, driving him mad with desire. Her lips were so soft and her kisses so consuming he knew only her in the moments they were connected.
Her hands clutched at his hair, his clothes, seeming to push him away and pull him to her at once. She drew her fingers over his shoulders, down his back, and settled low on his hips. Far, far too low.
How was this tiny creature in his arms so seductive? Her magic leapt into his palms, swirling with his own exhausted powers. His magic grew and grew with his arousal. He knew he shouldn't be doing it, but he would rather dunk his head in a cauldron full of bubotuber pus than release her. His hands mapped out the curves of her body while his mouth possessed hers with abandon.
She was whimpering against him, her body writhing against his. She was lost to sensation, consumed by his prescence and the peculiar bond they shared between each other. He knew he was draining her magic, but his body would not relinquish it's vise-like hold on her no matter how much his mind protested.
Then, suddenly, she slumped in his arms. It was like waking from a deep sleep or trying to peer through a dense London fog. He looked down at the prone form of the woman in his arms and struggled to comprehend it. Her head was tilted to the side, exposing the lovely, vulnerable expanse of her throat. He felt a pulse of desire renew at the sight and longed to latch his mouth to the delicate flesh, but he resisted. He had to take care of her now.
For a brief moment, he considered taking her to Poppy, but quickly dismissed the idea. The mediwitch would want to know why Hermione was in such a deplorable condition. He could think of no situation more humiliating than admitting he had been snogging Miss Granger like a randy teenager, to the kind, grandmotherly school nurse. He set his jaw determinedly. He would just have to care for her himself. It seemed that Poppy's assistance was becoming less and less desirable these days when it came to Miss Granger.
Casting a quick look around, while damning his impropriety and the possibility they might have been seen, he swung her up into his arms and proceeded down to the dungeons with her. Once he'd carried her to his rooms, he decided that a Pepperup Potion would do little to improve her condition. What she desperately needed was rest.
He laid her down in his bed and piled the covers over her before retreating to his sitting room. Once there, he poured himself a firewhiskey and plopped down in front of the fire. He sat staring into the flames, mulling over the events of that night.
The Dark Lord had been extremely displeased by Severus acting on his own, though Snape knew it could have been much worse for him. What he'd experienced tonight was mild considering the wrath of the Dark Lord. Snape had known his master to do hideous deeds when displeased, usually resulting in quite a few deaths. Severus felt fine now.
Initially, he'd been exhausted by the amount of magical energy nulling the Dark Lord's curses had required, but because of his meeting with Miss Granger, he felt at full strength once more. Severus sighed heavily. He'd gone entirely too far with the witch.
He hadn't meant to initially. He was on his way back from reporting to headmaster when he'd seen her stumbling up the corridor. He had then slipped into a niche and waited for her to get close enough, wanting only to catch and provoke her. Perhaps take a few house points if he was feeling well enough. But he soon realized that Miss Granger wasn't at all sober. That the reason for her staggering was from her consumption of alcohol. And that dress. Merlin, it had been his undoing. She was draped in his house color, most of her skin sinfully bare to his hungry eyes. Sweet Merlin.
When she'd seen him, her eyes had taken on a smoky appearance, her full lips glistening under the torchlight. He didn't stand a chance, really. Before he was aware what he was doing, he was kissing her.
His lips on hers were demanding, punishing. He wanted to devour her. To punish her for their situation because she was so damned irresistible, so impossibly innocent. He'd been aroused beyond belief and was considering taking her to his rooms so he could ravish her properly when she'd fainted.
It was then he was able to pull away from her. It was like someone had flung a bucket of never melting ice over them; extinguishing the heat and desire he'd been consumed in moments before. The need for her was still present, but repressed by her state of unconsciousness. He had no idea why he'd reacted so strongly to her presence or why her so magic so willingly came to his aid.
He was certain, however, that he could not afford to lose control again. Not only was it dangerous to her, but she'd been in serious risk of being taken up against a wall. The thought made him shudder with mixed feelings of arousal and horror.
He swallowed a hefty amount of his drink and closed his eyes against his warring emotions. He had to protect her. From the Dark Lord, the Death Eaters, and anyone else who wished her ill will. He had to protect her from himself as well. To do his best not to taint her before all of this was done. He wanted her to walk away from this war unscathed, still bright and curious. Not hardened and scarred by the menace of his cruel master. With a final swig of his libation, he formulated his resolve. He would not lose control again.
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Hermione writhed against the silk bedding, mewling in distress.
"Do you like my hands on you, Miss Granger?" Snape purred, his long, slender digits slipping over her stomach teasingly. Hermione squirmed, his presence too affecting for her to form words. Snape growled in anger, "Answer me, woman! Or I'll leave you panting and wild without relief!" he hissed.
"Yes!" she cried,"I like your hands on me. Please...please, don't stop!" She panted against his collarbone, her body straining up to meet him, seeking relief to an ache she hadn't known existed until he'd ignited it.
He held her away from him just enough to drive her mad as he chuckled lowly in her ear, "Do you want me to take you now, Gryffindor? Are you ready for me? Do you want the snake's coils wrapped about you so intimately?"
She was burning from the inside-out, dying for something to quiet the growing ache in her core. Remembering that he required her answer she spoke in broken sentences, incoherent with the need he was provoking inside her, "I don't know-I'm scared...Will it hurt terribly?"
He shifted, spooning her so his long body cradled hers and leaning to whisper in her ear gruffly, "Yes, it will hurt... but if you'll allow me, I can also give you pleasure. I will slake the burning in your flesh with my own. Purge you of the ache you don't understand. I'll take you so thoroughly, you will not know pain, nor your own name, only me. I'll have you whispering my name like a prayer, witch. Screaming it like a plea for a mercy. The pleasure I can give you is endless and I will give it to you again and again until you are reduced to your most primal state. You will welcome the pain if it means opening a door to what heights I can drive you to."
She shuddered at his words. His voice was like silk, covering her, consuming her. The low growl in his voice evidenced his need for her, despite his torturous teasing.
He rolled back over to face her, smoothing his hands over her sides and down her thighs, parting them with a wicked smile on his lips. He hitched them up around his hips and began to grind into her slowly. The ache was agonizing now.
"Please." She gasped, her legs sliding fretfully up and down the bed on either side of him.
"Please what?" He hissed, "Tell me what you want!"
Her eyes opened to see his burning black gaze locked with hers. "The ache...make it go away. Please, stop teasing me..." She begged him, her eyes glistening.
He looked thoughtful for a moment, "I quite like you begging for it, witch. Beg me to fuck you, Granger. Beg me to ride you into conniptions."
Hermione was struggling between the urge to slap him or give into his demands. Her need won her over easily. "Take me, please, Professor."
She clutched at the bed sheets, her knuckles turning white. He leaned over her, his lips dragging across her cheek and coming to rest at her ear.
"Say my name, witch. Tell me you want this. That you want me." He nipped at her ear lobe, his hips bucking forward into hers as if to urge a response out of her.
"Please, take me...Severus." Then, wild with desire she growled. "Fuck me. Fuck me now, Severus."
His mouth stretched into a predatory smile. His fingers danced over her ribcage, tormenting her.
"As you wish, Lioness." His fingers dipped lower and lower, tracing her pelvis and slipping down to where she needed him most-
Hermione woke with a jolt. She was unbearably hot. There was a wet ache between her legs that was tender to the touch. She had a suspicion her dream was the cause of it. How embarrassing.
Hermione tried to get up but was confined by fabric. She was trapped in a massive pile of blankets. She kicked at her blanket cage in frustration, struggling in the sheets comically, grunting and shrieking obscenities until she was free. It was then that she realized she wasn't in her room. Merlin, who'd thought putting twenty blankets on her was a good idea? She'd murder them.
She turned her face into the pillow and inhaled. It smelled delicious and oddly familiar, smoky and sweet- Oh, shit! She sat up suddenly, her hair flying in every direction. She patted it down frantically, but Snape was nowhere in sight.
She appraised the room around her slowly. She was surrounded on all sides by emerald green. 'How Slytherin' she thought with a smirk.
On either side of the black draped bed were mahogany chest of drawers. Not really what she expected, though not very surprising either. She noticed a bottle of potion on the nightstand and picked it up. There was a note attached, "Hangover cure". Deciding to trust him, she downed the bottle and she immediately felt better.
She swung her legs out of the bed, and padded barefoot to the door. She was still dressed in the skimpy dress from last night and her hair was a hopeless mess. She probably had terrible morning breath, too. Still, she figured she should find Snape.
She opened the bedroom door and peeked cautiously out. He was nowhere to be found. She walked down the drafty hallway, shivering and regretting the dress all over again, while peeking into rooms as she passed them. Finally, she made her way to the sitting room where she'd spoken to the professor the other day and found him sprawled across the sofa, a worn blanket thrown over him, haphazardly.
She couldn't imagine him being very comfortable. He had his face pressed against the armrest and was muttering softly. She crept closer to hear what he was saying. His eyes opened just as she leaned over him. He looked befuddled for a moment, and then he scowled blackly at her.
"Do you make a habit out of leaning over people as they sleep? It's rather creepy." He growled in a husky voice cloaked with sleep.
It brought all the memories of the kiss and her recent dream to the front of her mind. She beat a hasty retreat, her cheeks aflame with embarrassment. "Of course not! I was just concerned you might suffocate to death on the expensive leather sofa. And then where would I be? I don't know how you were breathing with your face pressed into it like that." She spat, bad-naturedly.
He sat up and the blanket fell to pool in his lap. "How the bloody hell would you know if my furniture is expensive? Have you forgotten I earn a professor's wage? Though of course you're right, the damn sofa cost me more than my bed."
He raked his messy sleep hair from his eyes and yawned. "The sofa isn't meant to be slept on. It might never be the same. Perhaps I should have slept on the floor after all."
Hermione's thoughts flitted back to her dream."The bed could have fit two." She stated boldly, her eyes meeting his unflinchingly.
He seemed to recoil slightly, "Last night was a mistake on my part. It won't happen again-"
Hermione cut him off with a fierce growl, "How dare you! How dare you kiss me like that, and tell me it meant nothing?" 'How dare you make me want you so fiercely and then reject my advances?' she thought to herself.
He stood up and she could see he wore low slung black pajama bottoms and a tight grey t-shirt with 'the Cure' logo on it. She looked at in puzzlement. How odd that he of all people should wear something like that. Her eyes strayed to the strip of skin between the hem of his shirt and waist band of his pants.
"You don't understand. You were drunk-" He began before she came to her senses and corrected him, "I was not! From the moment you touched me I was aware. I knew what I was doing and I wanted-" She stopped speaking abruptly, her eyes shuttered against him.
She heard him sigh and looked up to see him shaking his head. "Regardless, I apologize for my impropriety. I had just returned from a meeting with the Dark Lord-"
Hermione gasped and hurried over to his side, gripping his arm in concern. "Are you all right? What did he want?"
Snape glanced down at her hold on his arm before his gaze turned a bit cold and he removed the offending touch from his person. Her heat clenched painfully in her chest at his cruelty.
"It's nothing to concern yourself with. I've told you that I'll keep you safe. Just worry about your studies." He told her sternly, completely detached. "Have you found anything that may explain our...connection?" He asked her, stepping away.
Hermione studied her feet as her heart sank. "No...I've not had the chance. I'm sorry, sir."
Why was he being such a bastard all of the sudden? He'd been almost pleasant to her in the past couple of days. It seemed his time with the Voldemort had made him as snarky as ever. She looked up when he walked past her and grabbed a cloak from a hanger by the door and tossed it to her.
"That's the second article of my clothing I've had to lend you. Do try and bring this one back, will you?"
She blushed scarlet at his accusation as she settled the cloak around her scantily clad body. She hadn't yet returned his robes to him. In fact, she'd been reluctant to return them at all since they smelled like him, not to mention it would no doubt be an awkward confrontation. But then, all of their meetings were uncomfortable and left her tense and frightened for their upcoming wedding. She nodded and left, leaving him staring after her with an unreadable expression.
Once she returned to Gryffindor tower, she set about writing to her parents, which she'd neglected to do out of fear of their reactions. Once she was in comfortable clothing, her green dress pushed to the bottom of her dirty clothes bin, she seated herself on her bed and began to write, her quill scratching the only sound except for the distant voices of her house mates in the common room.
Dear Mum and Dad,
I hope you both are doing well. I'm sorry I haven't written to you much since term started, but I've been rather weighed down with course work as of late. How have you been getting on? Did you get that promotion, Dad? You work so hard, they ought to rename the place after you. 'Granger Dentistry' sounds far better than 'Fix A Dent', don't you think? I've often thought the name sounded like some rubbish automobile gimmick you see on the telly. But, I digress. I am actually writing to inform you of a rather serious situation concerning myself. I know you will not approve and will probably demand an audience with the headmaster upon learning the news. I urge you not to blame the headmaster or anyone else for that matter, except perhaps the Ministry. The truth is, a marriage law has been decreed in which I am subject to. The law requires that I choose from a list of suitors based on magical capability and compatibility. Due to this, I must inform you that I am indeed engaged to be married. I have chosen Severus Snape, a gentleman I believe will show me the attention and devotion I deserve. He is an honorable man, and would never have suggested the impropriety of such an arrangement between a student and teacher. In fact, it was I who suggested it. Please do not make a fuss about all of this. I'm considered an adult now and can make my own decisions at this point in my life. I am by no means dismissing your concerns, for I know that you want only what is best for me. However, this is a requirement I must meet. I would rather wed a hundred strangers before I gave up being who I am: a witch. I beg you to support me in this. My world is so very different from yours. Hopefully all of this will come to pass and life will return to normal, but for now, this is my decision. The wedding is to take place this Saturday, the twenty-sixth, and I would like very much if you both would attend. I know it's all very short notice, but such is the way of the wizarding world, I'm afraid. If you can attend please write me back as soon as possible. I know it's a lot to take in and I understand if you cannot come, though I wish you would for I would like to see the both of you. I look forward to hearing from you either way.
Your daughter,
Hermione
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After she sent off her letter to her parents, she headed down to grab breakfast from the Great Hall before classes.
It had not taken long for the news of Hermione and Snape to get around. It was now common knowledge that the Gryffindor brain was shacking up with her dark Potion's Professor and that they would soon be married because of the new ministry law. At first it had been difficult to go anywhere without seeing the astonished looks of her peers. The rumors were particularly nasty. The students were more careful about it lately though.
Snape had caught a group of students whispering about illicit things that Hermione and himself must get up to. He'd deducted fifty points from each person and set them all a detention with himself in which they were forced to purify dragon dung for one of his classes; by hand. The whispers had died down significantly after that. Though Hermione still turned many heads wherever she went. Walking into the Great Hall was the worst.
Ginny was waiting for her and motioned for her to sit across from her. She sat down, noting with slight amusement Ginny's sour expression and the deadly glances she kept shooting at loud students that would put Snape to shame.
Ginny seemed to appraise her at the same time. "You look chipper this morning. Last time I saw you, you were as sloshed as I was." Ginny noted moodily.
Hermione shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "I sort of ran into Snape on my way back last night. He gave me a potion." She WAS NOT going to mention the kiss or the fact she'd slept in his bed.
Ginny laughed and then winced. "That must have been embarrassing. Who wants to run into Snape when their arse over elbow?"
Hermione resisted the urge to blush. She hadn't minded running into Snape. Especially when he'd kissed her..."He was actually quite nice." Hermione remarked, busying herself with her breakfast and trying not to think of his rather cruel rejection this morning.
Ginny gasped. "Snape? Bollocks! Soon he'll be passing out sweets in class and being polite to Hufflepuffs." A few Hufflepuffs that had heard her turned around to shoot glares at Ginny's back. Hermione smiled into her juice.
Ginny looked over Hermione's shoulder suddenly and went white as a sheet. Hermione looked at her friend, puzzled for a moment before she turned around to find Snape brooding above her.
He seemed to have caught Ginny's comment because he directed an irritated look her way. "On the contrary, Miss Weasley, you and your classmates will not receive a single morsel from myself. Rest assured."
He smirked at her rather nastily, "You don't look well, girl. Perhaps you should go see Madame Pompfrey unless...you've some indiscretion to hide from our grandmotherly school nurse." He mocked her.
It was widely known that Pompfrey was very strict about underage drinking. She would not treat hung-over students, believing it to be a just punishment for their actions.
Ginny grimaced, and Hermione sighed in exasperation. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't menace my friends when I eat, Professor. You'll put me off my porridge."
Snape directed his icy stare at her, ignoring her comment. "Due to our upcoming nuptials, you remaining in my class would cause a lot of stir amongst the parents and the board. You'll have to start taking private assignments, independent of my lesson plan when we are married. I imagine your assignments will be quite a bit more difficult than your classmates', but the headmaster believes you are able to handle the extra work..."
He was being so infuriating! Trying to put distance between them after what had happened last night. She resisted the urge to respond with as much snark as she could muster and simply nodded.
After tossing her a knowing smirk he left her alone, exiting the Great Hall rather conspicuously, the other students casting her stares while she flattened her bread roll with her knife, frustrated that his opinion mattered so much to her.
"And what did that bread ever do to you?" Ron asked as he plopped down beside her.
"Misplaced aggression." Ginny explained in a cheerful voice.
Harry sat down beside Ginny, giving her a quick peck on the lips before he began to fill his plate. Harry looked up at Hermione, and his eyes were guarded. Hermione sighed, "Oh just say whatever you're going to say, Harry, and stop glaring at me."
Harry bit into his toast, "I wasn't glaring." When she only raised an eyebrow at him, he continued, "I waited up for you and Ginny last night. Ginny came back...you didn't." He took another bite of his toast, chewing and studying her reaction.
Hermione thought fast, "I did come back. I just got a bit sidetracked is all. I wasn't myself."
Harry leveled his eyes at her knowingly." When you didn't come back, I pulled out the Marauder's Map to try and find you. Do you know what I saw?"
Hermione's eyes went hard; her heart was beating too fast. "Enough. It's not your business. And you keep what you saw to yourself, Harry." Hermione's tone was stern.
Harry stood up motioning for her to follow him. At first she thought she might say no, but she didn't want to cause another scene. She got up and followed him out of the Great Hall.
Once they were alone, he turned to her. "Hermione, I need you to tell me what's going on."
When she started to swell with indignation, he held up his hand wearily. "Please, Hermione. You're my best friend. I need you to be honest with me. I've spent the past couple days worrying over you constantly. You're my family, Hermione. You know how I see you. You're one of the few people I can trust. When the people I love start keeping secrets from me, who am I supposed to turn to? I know what you're going to say. 'Not everything is about you, Harry Potter.' Yeah, I get it. I'm not trying to make this about me." He sighed heavily. "I know you were with Snape last night. That's your business, I understand. But don't lie to us about it. We love you, Hermione. We will love you no matter your choices. If you want Snape to snark at you for the rest of your life, then fine. Whatever. But enough of this secrecy. I want to be there for you. I know I can be a git about some things, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have acted the way I did about Snape. I was just so shocked and my first reaction was to save you."
"Hero complex." Hermione muttered resentfully.
Harry nodded in agreement, "It's just the way I am. I want to see you happy. I won't pretend to understand the relationship between you and Snape. I don't want this to come between our friendship. You mean more to me than a stupid grudge. If he's who you choose, then I won't protest. If he'll play nice, then I will too."
Hermione grinned wryly, "Don't count on it. Hating you is kind of his hobby."
Harry smiled, sighing in mock annoyance, "I'm very aware of that, thank you."
Hermione assessed him for a moment before she flung herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. "I hate when we fight. I think of you as my brother, too." she mumbled into his neck.
He patted her hair, "Then let's not do it anymore. If I'm being a git just tell me. I'll probably stalk off to mull over things and realize what a bastard I am. But then I'll come back and we'll act like it never happened."
She laughed, "All right, that sounds good." She stepped back from him, looking up at his face. She brushed his wild hair back from his eyes, straightened his glasses, and smiled at him. "Let's go back, big brother."
Harry gave her small smile before looping an arm around her shoulders. They walked back into the hall, Harry mussing her hair as she tried desperately to get away, laughing all the while.
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The next morning she received a letter from her parents that was surprisingly short. It only stated that they would attend the wedding and discuss the situation in person. This sort of response made her even more nervous and made her dread Saturday.
Snape had continued to be more distant than ever, only ever talking to her when he was being unpleasant or criticizing her work. For the most part, though, he said nothing at all, though she did often catch his gaze in the Great Hall over meals. Each time he would look away disinterestedly, making her stomach roll in disappointment. Damn him for making her feel this way.
She could not forget about his kiss. How electric and all consuming it had been. Nor could she forget just what being a married woman meant. She was terrified to vow her life away to a man who treated her like a goddess in his arms one moment and was cold to her in the next. She could not deny she was attracted to him. She knew herself better than to repress her feelings.
So she did what everyone expected Hermione Granger did when faced with a difficult or unknown situation. She went to the library.
After some wheedling and begging to Professor McGonagall, she managed to get a pass to the restricted section and then proceeded to pull every book about sex she could get her hands on.
She was incredibly embarrassed and so secluded herself to a back corner of the library, avoiding her usually table. She shot away any friendly approaches with a glance and glamoured the books to appear as Advanced Arithmancy texts. She poured over the pages, intrigued, ashamed, and apprehensive the more she read.
She picked up one of the books and flipped through it idly before her face flushed unattractively and she could swear she felt steam shooting out of her ears. There were pictures. Pictures no decent witch would ogle with indifference. Despite how naughty she felt, she read through the book, trying to give the pictures only a cursory glance, and the more puzzling positions a bit longer.
By the end of it, she felt thoroughly educated and more frightened than ever for Saturday. She could not imagine her dour Professor doing any of those things to her. But then, she remembered his kiss, and thought that he might be quite sufficient in other areas as well.
She shook her head to clear it and returned the unsavory books to their shelves, removing the glamours while Madame Pince looked on nosily. She gave the librarian an affronted huff before exiting the library.
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The days passed in a blur and before she knew it, Friday was upon her. That evening she hastened to Snape's office after receiving an owl from him that morning requesting her presence after classes.
She descended into the dungeons, passing lounging Slytherins that called out to her, "Going to see your wizard, Granger? Didn't know you liked 'em gray!" "Is he brilliant in bed, Granger? Does he make you scream?"
The Slytherins were the boldest of her attackers since her predicament became known. Though they would never harass her when Snape was around, they would often leer at her during potion's classes and tease her in the hallways. Snape could do nothing to them if he wasn't there, so they used discretion in her case.
She'd been making her Head Girl's rounds one night when she'd run into a Slytherin leaning against the wall of the dungeons. "It's after curfew. Ten points from Slytherin. I'll also need your name, please." She'd said, unnerved when he'd only grinned at her.
He stalked over to her. He was tall, but still shorter than Snape, and of a slighter, less muscular build. In a moment he had her backed against the dungeon wall, his hands on either side of her face. "You're that Granger girl aren't you? It's strange that old Snape would want someone as tiny as you. I've seen women leaving his rooms before, all of them looking fucked to death."
He laughed softly, his ice blue eyes, cruel. "They were all rather tall, too. Curvy, older women. And they still looked like they had a couple rounds with a troll. If he does that much damage to them, I wonder if he won't break you in half."
Hermione had tried to push him away, stung terribly by this assessment of her professor. "Your name, I said. Tell me now before I take even more house points." She said angrily.
His mouth curled in amusement. "What are you going to do if I don't? Tell my head of house? Is that why your down here? Coming to get a quick shag before bedtime?" His fingers trailed down her cheek, his eyes wicked. "I can see why he likes you. You're pretty for a Gryffindor. I happen to prefer the small ones. They're always the screamers."
He pressed into her, and she was sickened to feel something hard and hot press against her belly. She gritted her teeth, holding back her tears. "Please." She said finally, "I won't tell the Professor if you just get off me."
He smiled all over his face, "Leaving so soon? I thought we had a connection?"
An unearthly growl erupted from behind them, "The only connection you'll feel, Mr. Travers, is your arse to the seat of a train, if you don't remove yourself from my betrothed this instant!"
Travers jumped, his face white and his eyes wide. He turned to face his head of house and Hermione got one look at Snape's face and resisted the urge to cower herself.
His expression was black, his eyes glinting dangerously, coal black and fierce. He towered over them, emanating an aura that would send new born chicks to an early grave.
Travers stumbled back from her, his head bowed in respect to the Professor, his back tense as if awaiting a blow. Snape took a step toward him and Hermione flung herself off the wall, putting herself between the two of them.
"Professor, please! I- I've already taken points. Don't-"
He silenced her with a snarl. "Don't what? Punish him? I do not lay hands on my students. No, Mr. Travers is very aware of what will happen to him for forcing his attentions on a female student. I've never wavered from protocol on that front."
Travers looked fearful but Hermione looked confused, still standing between the two of them. Snape suddenly stepped around her and grabbed Travers by the scruff of his perfectly pressed shirt, crumpling it in his hand. He thrust him down the hall, and Travers stumbled a bit before righting himself and looking back at them both.
"To my office, boy. We'll arrange your detentions there. You'd best hope I don't find a single mark on her." Snape snarled. Travers nodded and scurried down the hall and out of sight.
With an angry huff, Snape turned back and moved towards her. Hermione stepped away, her eyes wide and glistening with uncertainty. He kept advancing however until he had her backed against a wall, the situation too similar from her previous predicament.
His eyes were harsh but his hands were gentle as they touched her. He caught her chin between his fingers, turning her face this way and that. Moving on, he grabbed each arm in turn and looked them up and down. Finally, he stooped down, lighting his wand and ran the light over the length of her legs, his eyes assessing. He stood up and cast a diagnostic spell on her. After finding her perfectly intact, he continued to look down at her while she remained silent.
He spoke after a moment, "Why are you down here, Hermione?" His eyes did not have that frightening glint any longer, yet still they were unreadable in the semi-darkness of the dungeons.
"I was doing my rounds. I'm Head Girl-"
He interrupted her, "It's no longer safe for you to wander about the castle by yourself-"
She huffed indignantly, "I was not 'wandering about the castle'! I was doing my duty as Head Girl-"
He slammed his hand down against the stone beside her head, hissing angrily, "Bother duty! Do you not understand what almost happened? Silly woman! Have you forgotten it is common knowledge we are engaged to be married? Do you think the Dark Lord knows nothing of it? Half the students in my house are sons and daughters of Death Eaters!"
She cringed away from him, her eyes icy, "Yes, I know. I'm to marry one myself, remember?"
He snarled, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him, his eyes inches from hers, "You dare-"
She tried wrenching herself from his grip unsuccessfully, his hands were bigger than her head she noted with terror. "Yes, I do!" She spat, indignantly. "Don't think I don't know what I'm getting into. I know perfectly well."
"You know little. That or your as reckless as Potter. Flinging yourself into danger at every opportunity-"
"You leave him out of it! Harry has nothing to do with this!"
He shook her a bit, his grip painful, "Potter has everything to do with this! Because of him, I am forced to serve the Dark Lord. Because of your friendship with him, you are a target. The Dark Lord wants to use you to get to Potter and he wants me to manipulate you to do so. Do you think him above using the sons of Deatheaters to spy on us, to hurt you?"
She shrank away from him and he seemed to come back to himself. He loosened his grip on her, and instead smoothed his long fingers over her wrist where he's held her, "Forgive me. You couldn't have known. I will speak to the headmaster about your rounds. I don't want you walking around the castle without protection."
He then led her to his classroom where he procured some salve and applied it to the red marks on her arm. His eyes were full of self-hate as he smoothed into onto her flesh.
"I forget how fragile you are. I am not accustomed to gentleness or kindness. The concepts are foreign to me. I've never experienced any such treatment myself, so I'm afraid I don't know where to start."
Hermione remained silent as he spoke to her, affected by the gentleness of those strong hands and the emotion his words moved inside her. What a mess he was, her future husband. Broken and bitter, but he was hers. Or he would be soon.
She moved her hand to cover his cheek and he looked up at her where he was kneeling on the floor tending to her other arm. His face was smooth, free of stubble, the result of wizarding shaving cream no doubt, which left even the hairiest of men as smooth as silk.
His eyes held a sort of wonder as they looked up at her, as dark and liquid as the Black Lake. She brushed his hair back from his eyes, which she found was soft to the touch. Then leaning forward she pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, "Thank you, " she murmured.
She stood up from her chair and he got up from his position on the floor, towering above her once more. She looked down at her wrist to find it white and smooth once more, completely healed. 'He doesn't know his own strength' she thought.
She sighed and after touching her hand briefly to his chest, let herself out of his classroom and headed back to Gryffindor tower, leaving him staring after her, her kiss still burning on his cheek.
Since that night, she'd been extremely careful in the days that followed. Snape was true to his word, and did speak to Dumbledore about her Head Girl duties.
Because of his request, Dumbledore sent Fawkes, his familiar, to her side every night for rounds. He would strut beside her, beautiful and proud, occasionally soaring above her head in the taller corridors. She felt safer with the bird beside her because he had a direct link to Dumbledore and the headmaster would be alerted immediately if she were to run into any trouble.
Sometimes, Crookshanks would join them on these walks, which painted quite a picture. Hermione Granger with her entourage of animal familiars, prowling the hallways for evil doers.
Crookshanks and Fawkes got along fairly well, with the exception of when Fawkes beat the cat to a scurrying mouse, leaving the feline's tummy growling in protest. He would then proceed to give Fawkes the cold paw for the rest of the journey.
Hermione shook head as she came back to the present. The Slytherins continued to call to her as she descended further into the dungeons. A Slytherin girl stepped in front of her as she rounded a corner, "So your shagging Snape, eh? He doesn't give extra credit, not even for that you know. I have no idea why he would want such an uptight piece as you. He won't even touch any of us. We've offered but he just takes off points and sends us away. They say the head before him would give a girl a shag if she was of age. Snape's too proud to do that though. Did you slip him a potion or something?"
Hermione fumed, emboldened by this girl's idiocy, "Don't be ridiculous. Do you honestly think any one could slip him anything and he wouldn't know? He's a Potion's Master, for Merlin's sake!"
The girl put her hand on her hip, all attitude. Hermione noticed her skirt was far too many inches shorter than dress code allowed. "Well, then what did you do? There's no way the Professor would want a goody too shoes like you." But then she seemed to come to a realization, "Unless, you're not as good as you pretend to be. Well, well, Granger, just what have you been doing for your Professor?"
Hermione was furious, "Get out of my way before I hex you. You can bet Snape won't give a damn what happens to you if you've been propositioning him for better grades."
The girl's mouth worked in anger before another girl caught her shoulder, "Lisa, stop. The professor would have you hung up in Filch's Chamber of Chains if he knew you were disrespecting his betrothed."
Lisa shrugged her friend's hand off her shoulder, "Whatever." she muttered before walking away.
The other girl turned to look at Hermione, who was equal parts angry and puzzled by the whole exchange. "Don't mind Lisa, Granger. She's just sour because she's had a crush on the Professor since third year. He's turned her down more times than I could count, but she still won't drop it. The professor would never touch any of his students, you see, which is why everyone is so shocked he's getting hitched to you."
The girl smiled at her, "I'm Eleanor, by the way. You should know that not all Slytherins are nasty. In fact, I'm glad the Professor has finally found someone to make him an honest man. Even if it is a Gryffindor. Though I suppose it never would have happened if not for the Ministry; the buggering fucks."
Hermione blinked at Eleanor. How could someone go from being nice and sincere one moment and then saying "buggering fucks" in the next. 'Slytherins' she thought with a huff. Though she was glad to see at least one of them was a certified psycho.
"Thanks, er..Eleanor. I appreciate it." Hermione told her earnestly.
Eleanor smiled in response and Hermione was struck with how truly beautiful she was. She had long ebony hair and pale gray eyes. She was tall and slender, and so confident with herself it made Hermione envious.
"If any of these princesses give you a hard time, just let me know. I know a few nasty hexes that will make them treat you like a queen,...after they get out of the infirmary, of course." With a final wink, she pranced away, hair billowing behind her.
Hermione shook her head. 'How bizzare' she thought before continuing on to Snape's office. She knocked three times, and the door flew open to admit her. She rushed inside, slamming the door behind her.
Severus sat behind his desk, a pair of glasses perched on his long, straight nose as he marked papers. He looked up to see her glaring at him.
"Your Slytherins are barbaric." She stated. Though feeling guilty for including Eleanor in that category.
He stacked his papers neatly and removed his glasses, looking away from her accusatory stare. "Continuing to insult my house won't win you any points with me, Granger."
"I was just informing you so that you might remedy the situation."
He looked at her as if she were very thick. He didn't feel the need to justify her statement with a response so he leveled his eyes at her haughtily as if to say, "Don't be ridiculous."
She huffed angrily and plopped down into the seat across from him. The leather chair was old and peeling, the springs sticking into her bum painfully. She had a theory that he chose uncomfortable furniture for his office specifically to discourage long visits from his students. Classic Snape.
"You wanted to see me?" She asked in a ill-graced tone, still miffed about the lewd comments from his students.
In answer he pulled out some documents from a drawer in his desk and slid them across to her. "It's the marriage contract. The ministry kindly sent them over yesterday evening. I've already read them. I thought you might want to know what you're getting into."
Hermione picked up the contract and looked down at the words for a long time, unable to read a single word. Sensing her stillness, he sighed and reclined in his chair.
"Basically it summarizes the expectations post-wedding. The document states that after the first consummation we are to have relations once a week with the exception of your monthly menses. Contraception is prohibited. You must conceive a child within the next two years, if not you will be subjected to a fertility test. After the initial child, our relations will no longer be monitored by the ministry and we will be free to do as we wish. As stated by the law, divorce is illegal. The rest is inconsequential drivel included to make you think this law is some sort of privilege."
Hermione thrust the papers back on his desk, "So should I prepare for motherhood then?" She asked tightly. Snape recoiled, his mouth turning down at the corners.
"Certainly not. I've created an undetectable contraceptive. It's not available for the public of course, just for my own personal use. It should be fine...unless, you want a child..." He trailed off, an unpleasant grimace on his face. If the situation was not such a disaster, she would have laughed. She shook her head furiously and he seemed to relax somewhat.
"And of course the condition of producing a child in two years won't matter. The war will take place in less than a year, most likely. Afterwards, the marriage law will be dissolved one way or another."
Hermione nodded, her eyes downcast. Dying to change the subject, she blurted out, "I wrote to my parents. They're coming to the wedding tomorrow."
She glanced up to see his eyes rather guarded. "I see." He looked hesitant for a moment, his eyes assessing her carefully, "I never did inquire beyond that night, but I trust that you did resolve the conflict with your father?"
Hermione stiffened, then nodded. "Yes, I took your advice and told my mother when I arrived home that summer. She was able to get him help. The muggle doctors diagnosed him with depression, among other things. It seems that dentist have one of the highest suicide rates. He's better now though..." Hermione met his eyes, "I don't know if I've forgiven him. I don't know if I can."
Snape nodded, he looked like he was a million miles away, lost in his own thoughts. Finally, he spoke, "I suggest you make any meeting with myself and your father short. I'm afraid that once in his presence, I will be inclined to call him out for what he did. I do not wish to cause a rift between you and your family."
Snape thought he needed to defend her for something that happened years ago? She was oddly touched. She looked away from the burning sincerity of his gaze, remembering the time he discovered her secret.
It was Professor Snape who treated her in second year after her mishap with the Polyjuice Potion.
She shook nervously in the infirmary bed as Poppy fussed about her. She'd told Poppy that her form was a result of transfiguration gone wrong. Luckily, Poppy hadn't asked any questions after that. Poppy had insisted that the tonic she gave Hermione should have worked by now and she called Professor Snape for further assistance.
Hermione had protested immediately. She knew that Snape would see through her lie instantly, but Poppy had been firm.
So when Snape stalked into the infirmary, his eyes blazing and irritated, she kept her head down and wouldn't look at him as Poppy explained her condition.
"Very well, Poppy. Let me examine her alone for a moment."
Madame Pompfrey bristled, "Why on earth should you need to examine her alone? Surely you don't think me incompetent, Severus-"
Snape held up his hand, scowling, "Poppy, please refrain from speaking to me like a child in front of my students. And of course I do not believe you to be incompetent. However, I will ask that you humor me and let me care for the girl privately."
Poppy pursed her lips angrily and stalked away. Poppy disliked having to ask Snape for help. To be dismissed by him was an even greater insult. She would remember his impertinence the next time he was in the infirmary from his time with the Dark Lord. He hated the broth and tastless porridge she made him eat while bedridden. He would often refuse to eat at all because of it. She would stun him and make him eat an entire pot next time. Despite the opinion that Poppy was a sweet old mediwitch, people often forgot that she used to be a Slytherin, and had quite a wicked streak.
He rolled his eyes at her back, fully aware that Poppy was plotting revenge on him, and turned to Hermione. "You must have realized I would not believe for a moment that you've taken on this form as a result of transfiguration. An incomplete spell would have worn off by now, even without Madame Pompfrey's tonic. It's fairly obvious what you've been doing, Miss Granger. Will you admit to it?"
Hermione kept her eyes downcast. She was determined not to rise to his bait.
"Are you aware of the consequence of your actions? Not only did you steal from my stores to acquire the ingredients, but you also brewed an illegal potion with malicious intent. What I'm curious to know, Miss Granger, is who exactly you were trying to impersonate."
When Hermione still gave no answer, Snape snarled. "You will answer me when I speak to you, girl, or I'll have you packing your bags by dinner!"
Hermione shuddered and lifted her chin, averting her eyes to a spot directly to the right of her potion's professor, "Is there a cure?" she whispered.
He stepped into her line of sight and grasped her chin between his fingertips, forcing her to look at him. "There might very well be. If you cooperate. Otherwise, I'm afraid they'll be shipping you home in a cage," He grinned evilly.
Hermione let out a terrified little gasp that had Snape smirking. The bastard. "Millicent Bullstrode." She squeaked at him, her whiskers twitching in fear.
Snape recoiled and then glared, "Why is the Gryffindor Princess trying to impersonate one of my Slytherins? That particular Slytherin is a most interesting choice. Though predictably your potion went awry-"
"The potion was flawless" Hermione replied with all of the haughtiness a twelve-year-old could muster, "I added the hairs of her cat instead of hers. A simple mistake on my part."
He clenched her chin tighter in his hand. "And how would you know the potion was a success? You had an accomplice perhaps? The dubious duo, Potter and Weasley, no doubt."
Hermione remained stubbornly silent. Snape smirked nastily. After a moment Hermione replied, "You can't prove they were involved. All you can do is speculate." She gloated.
He grabbed her arm and shook her, "You've some nerve you impertinent little chit. Your future is in my hands and you've the gall to taunt me." He hissed at her. "What will the perfect little Gryffindor cub do when the Slytherin snake reduces her academic future to ashes?"
Hermione's eyes widened and she let out a small cry of despair. She grabbed at his sleeve. "Please, Professor. I'll do anything. D-don't expel me." She squeaked.
He grabbed the wrist of the hand clutching his sleeve. "Oh, I was counting on that, Granger. I'll be very generous. I'll give you the cure to your ailment, keep your secret, and you will serve a week's worth of detention with me."
A week's detention? That's it? She looked at him quizzically and he grinned at her. "The tasks I have for you are not typical of a normal detention and are certainly not approved by the Headmaster, but you will do it and you will tell no one of it." Though Snape would never admit it, he was being lenient with the girl because he was impressed with her brewing skills. He'd never taught a student so promising as Miss Granger.
With her heart in her throat she agreed.
Snape provided her with a potion of his own making that cured her over the span of a couple weeks. She was back in class the moment she stopped coughing up hairballs, practically wrestling Poppy in her eagerness to get back to classes.
"I've missed so much! I have to go back NOW!" She wailed at the healer, who with surprising strength, restrained her on the bed and began to cast wellness spells on her.
"You'll leave when I say you can. If that means missing another day, then so be it."
Luckily for Hermione, she did escape and was horrified by the amount of practical course work she missed. And when the time came, she reported dutifully to detention with her dour professor.
Indeed the tasks she performed were particularly heinous. But she thanked every minute she scrubbed the rot and feces and slime of the dungeons. Because it meant she would stay at Hogwarts and continue her life as a witch. She couldn't bear the thought of leaving the castle and living as a muggle again. The very thought made her heart tighten painfully and her throat sore with grief.
Once the week of detentions was done, she stood in front of Snape's desk quietly looking at her shoes, waiting for him to dismiss her.
"You've surprised me, Granger." He said slowly. She looked at him curiously but said nothing. He continued, "I expected you to whine, to beg for another punishment. Indeed it shocked me that you could endure scrubbing the vile floors for so many hours. I expected to break you, but you proved impossible to shatter. Now I wonder why a twelve-year-old girl would accept such a cruel punishment without a whisper of complaint." He looked at her expectantly but she remained silent.
He got up from his chair and walked to stand in front of her. "Would you really risk so much for your friends... or are you... accustomed to this sort of treatment..."
It took her a moment to realize what he was asking but then she recoiled. How could he know? She hadn't told anyone. She was sure her father would get into terrible trouble if anyone found out. She loved her father, despite his harshness towards her. "You musn't- Professor you can't tell-"
He held up a hand to silence her. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the chair behind his desk, after making her sit, he knelt in front of her, his eyes assessing and too knowledgeable. She looked away.
"I am not your head of house, Miss Granger. But that does not mean you cannot speak to me. In fact, I might be more understanding of your situation than Professor McGonagall."
Hermione twisted her fingers into the fabric of her skirt, hiding beneath her bangs. Did that mean Professor Snape had also experienced cruelty at his parent's hand? She looked at him and saw in his eyes that he did. He had once crouched in the corner of his room and wept, pressing his shoulders into the wall and trying to disappear inside himself. Though it was only now she could see he was like her. It made her understand why he acted as he did. If he allowed people to see his true nature, then they might see his secret. Nothing was more painful than admitting that the people you loved were hurting you. Her father's abuse was the main reason she worked so hard. She wanted to do well in school because she couldn't bear to go back to the muggle world. And she loved learning about her magic. It gave her hope like nothing else did. It was her anchor, her sunshine breaking through the dark clouds of her heart. She'd been overjoyed when she'd gotten her letter. She'd always known something was off about her, as had all of peers in grade school.
Hermione held her tears at bay and spoke brokenly, "Mum doesn't know. Mum wouldn't ever hurt me. But Dad is different. He feels too much pain; pain that Mum can't help him with. So, he gives the hurt to me, so he won't feel it anymore. It's okay, if I can make him feel better."
Snape's eyes hardened and his mouth twisted into a scowl. "I know that you do not wish to involve anyone in your hardship. But I encourage you, do not let him hit you anymore. Not only is it hurting you, it is detrimental to your father as well. You aren't helping him, Miss Granger. If he means to strike you again, you must defend yourself...and you must tell your mother. She has a right to know. She can get him help. There are people who can help him take the pain away, understand?"
Hermione nodded, her lip quivering. "You won't tell anyone will you, Professor? It'll be our secret right? And you'll treat me like normal tomorrow, won't you?" Her eyes pleaded with him.
"Of course, Miss Granger. I will not give you pity, because I know that isn't what you need. I will give you the knowledge to understand your situation and the cunning to find a way out. Not all battles are fought with swords and fists as Godric Gryffindor believed. Slytherin knew that our minds were our greatest weapons and our judgment the most crucial sword in our arsenal."
Hermione sighed in relief. He was right. Everything he said was the truth. He understood what she needed because he had once needed those things as well. She would not ask him about his experience. It was in his past, she could see. Perhaps he'd found a way to face it, or maybe he'd had someone to help him. Either way, he was free now. And she was too. She was safe at Hogwarts and she would make it so she would be safe at home too. She was sure of herself now.
He looked at her, not unkindly, patting her head, the only affection she'd seen him give anyone, "So peculiar, isn't it? How the people we think are the happiest, are the ones who are the most broken." he murmured.
Returning to the present, Hermione nodded and stood, "I never did thank you, Professor, for helping me back then. So- Thank you. And I will do my best to keep any interactions between Dad and you short. If that's all, Professor..." She made to leave but he held up a hand to stop her.
"There is still the matter of your independent study. You will be given your assignments monthly. If you finish them, I will provide the next month's. You will be utilizing my private labs for your brewing. They are directly connected to my rooms so they will be convenient."
"Oh" she said taken aback. She'd forgotten that she would be living with him starting tomorrow after the wedding. She hadn't even begun to pack. She bet the house elves would come and transport her things for her during the ceremony, not even giving her time to move herself. She still felt guilty about the service of the house elves, but nothing could be done for it.
Feeling frantic and nauseous and a million other things at once, she moved towards the door to leave with a nod. "Yes, Professor." She murmured, feeling too big for her body and too small for the world.
"I'd prefer, when we are alone, if you called me by my given name. It's hardly appropriate for you to address me by my title in private."
Hermione turned and gave him a shy smile, "Only if you'll call me Hermione."
"Of course...Hermione." He seemed to hesitate for a moment before he strode towards her, his features suddenly urgent. "I know you must be frightened for tomorrow, but you must trust me... Your lack of experience will make the act excruciating at first. I will try to take care with you... but to do this, you have to give me the reins, witch. Or it will be a drawn out and painful ordeal."
Once his words sunk in, she felt her knees buckle and would have fallen if he hadn't been ready to catch her. He held her against his chest, smoothing her hair from her face. 'Please don't let me throw up on him. Merlin, please, please, please,' she thought placed a hand on his chest to steady herself and noted with distraction, the feel of his heartbeat against her palm.
This was real. Everything was happening so fast and she wasn't ready. She was spinning in a devastating twister that wreaked havoc on her world below as she watched with terrified eyes.
They both seemed to notice their closeness in the same moment. They hadn't been this close since he'd drained her magic.
Severus was intoxicated by her nearness. His magic thrummed through his body, alive and dizzying in the presence of Hermione. The soft heat of her body against his and the smell he'd come to associate with the witch left him disoriented.
Hermione was equally affected. Though she was daunted by the prospect of submitting herself willingly to Severus's intentions and the accompanying pain, the feel of his roughened palms sliding over her flesh was heady and pleasant.
Severus looked down into her eyes, his own so full of wanting and confusion. He drew her up, his mouth descending as if to kiss her. He stopped a hairs breadth away from her lips. "I shouldn't." he whispered, his warm breath tickling her lips. He began to draw away but she clung to him.
"Please. Let me pretend we chose this on our own accord. Kiss me like you could love me. Just this once." She begged, her throat tight with emotion.
His eyes looked pained for a moment before his mouth collided with hers. He was just as she remembered. His mouth tasted sweet as his lips drew out her sorrow and replaced it with heat. His fingers tangled in her hair as his arm wrapped around her waist to draw her tighter against him.
She was magnificent. Her lips received his own with passion, her fingers tangled in his robes. He felt the familiar roar of his magic in response to her, but did not try and receive her magic. He wanted to kiss her like he wanted and not worry about her slumping in his arms from exhaustion.
His hands glided up and down her sides, his intrepid fingers mapping out her body like an eager explorer. She gasped at every new touch, every bit of flesh he found that drove her mad with need for him. He touched the most ordinary parts of her body and made them extraordinary. She hadn't known how sensitive the line of her shoulder blade was until he traced it, or that her sternum had a direct connection to her core until he set his mouth upon it.
He whispered her name to her between kisses, his daring fingers sliding over her ribcage and circling her breasts. She moaned into his mouth as his hands splayed over her chest. His tongue smoothed across her bottom lip slowly before sucking it into his mouth and biting down on it lightly. She gasped and writhed, yet still he continued worrying her lip with his teeth, biting down and pulling it into his own scalding mouth.
Hermione was lost to his kiss, unable to remember her own name. His body seemed to grow hotter against hers and she felt the quickening of her breath and a tightening in her belly. Her hands slid from his hair, down his shoulders, past his waist, and to his hips. She parted his robes and pulled out his shirt tails with shaking hands, eager to feel the warm skin of his stomach. Tentatively, she ran her fingers from hip to hip, fascinated by the smooth indentations that led down-
Severus tensed immediately. For a moment they were both still, panting at the exertion of their passion, spinning back to reality. She could feel it, the moment they both came back to themselves; like a meteor crashing into the earth. With exaggerated slowness, he drew away from her, holding her at arm's length. Her hands fumbled to pull him back but he held himself firmly away despite her tugging hands.
"I'm sorry." He said softly. "I think we should stop before this goes any further. You've already made me break my promise."
Hermione's heart was beating wildly in her chest. She could feel the odd sensation of her magic burning in her veins. It seemed to protest their separation as much as she did. She smoothed her robes and turned away from him.
Trying to sound neutral and detached she said, "Thank you...for pretending with me, Severus."
Shaking and affected, she made her way to the door, half turning back to him as she reached it. "Goodnight, Severus. I'll see you tomorrow."
Without waiting for his reply she slipped out the door and shut it behind her.
"Goodnight, Hermione." He murmured after her. Then, turning to his desk, flung his hand across the span of it, sending his ink bottle crashing against the wall, the red ink oozing down the stone like blood.
Damn her. Damn the witch for seducing him with so little effort. Damn her for making him feel so out of control. Well, he wasn't pretending with her. Not at all.
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Woo! And there's that. I'm gonna try to get better about updating. You guys know what comes next! The wedding, yay! Still deciding whether to write all the dirty details or not because some people are really sensitive to that type of content. If I do, I will separate it from the rest with a line, so that you guys can skip over it if it's not your thing. Thanks for all of the support.
xxxSapphireLune