Story: Harry Potter

Pairings: Severus/ Hermione

Rating: M

Genre: Romance/ Drama/ Self Discovery

The Marriage Bed

Chapter 7: Honeysuckles embracing thorns

Hermione's flat

Hermione sat curled up in her sitting room with a book, but her eyes were not on the words, rather she looked dreamily out the window. She was trying to turn her mind from the events of earlier that day, but even the most fascinating literature could not capture her full attention.

Book sagging in her lap, "Ron, do you every wonder what happened to some our old professors?"

"No," answered the ginger-haired young man sitting on the sofa slurping a bowl of breakfast cereal.

"Why are you eating cereal at nine o'clock at night?" She asked curtly.

"I'm hungry, 'Mione! There's nothing proper to eat in this flat."

"Then you can get your own flat." She huffed.

He ignored quip. "Who were you wondering about?"

"What?" She asked confused as he avoided the issue of their mutual housing.

"Our professors? Which ones?"

"Oh," she paused and looked back at her book. "Well, I was thinking about Professor Snape for one."

"Ughhh!" Ron shivered.

"Ron, grow up."

"That man!" He replied, face twisted. Then putting his sock feet on her coffee table. "Actually, he's running a high end potions shop from his home. Special brews, that sort of thing. Invitation only, all legit... supposedly."

Brow knotted, she looked at him pointed, "Really?"

"Yeah. Probably making a mint." Lifting his spoon and sighing, "Life's really not fair is it."

"How did you know that?" She asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Another gulp of cereal. "Mione, it's what we do, we watch people. The Ministry knows the activities of all of Voldie's old followers. Keep a close eye on them, too. They're high risk!"

"Even Snape?" She asked surprised. "He was Dumbledore's man the entire time. Cleared at the trials."

Ron chuckled. "You are so naive. That snake was probably set to go whichever way the tides turned. That's what double agents do - play both sides. Lucky for us, it went in our favor, but it doesn't mean you can trust him again." Drinking the milk from his bowl, "There's not a single deatheater I'd ever trust again. I say, once a dark wizard, always a dark wizard. That kind of power isn't something you just walk away from untainted. It sinks deep into the soul."

Book forgotten, Hermione turned back to the window, watching a black cloud shadowing a white moon. He was dark, he was undeserving and yet, with him her soul and her body had soared. He had taken her with all his vulnerability, with all his passion and focus and without words, he had made her his slave. That night the dreams began...

Six months ago Helen Steeden was referred to a boutique potions maker in Manchester by the name of Severus Snape. He ran a special order potions business from his home specializing in difficult, expensive and rare brews all of the highest quality and finest ingredients. His price was high, but fair; his manner professional and his product was exquisite. The 'Potions Master', as he was known, did not advertise, he was a referred by word of mouth and only accepted clients who appreciated the quality of his product and could pay his price.

Although they were in school only two years apart, Helen, a former Ravenclaw did not remember his name from those years. She had been in Germany for the past twenty years and only returned to England some four years ago when her husband passed away in an unfortunate accident leaving her a young widow without much money.

Since her return, she relied on her embroidery skills and earned a decent living at sewing high end religious tapestries and historical repair work from museums. However, as her work load increased, so she began to suffer from crippling arthritis in her hands that no healer or apothecary seemed able to cure. When Severus Snape put her on a six month course to better health with immediate results, she was deeply grateful.

Spinner End: Six months past...

He held her hands gently in his, moving each finger; massaging the joints slowly. They stood in front of his desk in his dim laboratory.

"Tell me when you feel pain." His dark eyes entirely focused on his work.

"Here?"

"No."

"Here?"

"No."

"And here?"

"Yes," she answered, flinching as if he'd touched a raw nerve.

Never looking at her, he stepped back to his desk and began to scratch notes in his book. "Alright, I think I can make some adjustments to alleviate that area."

"I'm very grateful to you Mr. Snape. Your potion has changed my life."

The dark wizard grunted a response as he continued with quill to parchment.

"Agrimonia is difficult to find in Britain this time of year. I may have to import it, so there will be an added expense."

Helen nodded and added quietly. "Do you take tea, Mr. Snape?"

"Not with clients." He replied in his rough voice, still taking notes.

"What about socially?" She asked stepping closer to his desk.

Grateful patients often tried to thank him with tea, dinners or trifles, but usually they were old wizards and middle aged witches. His quill stopped mid-stride and he looked up. It was as if he'd seeb Helen Steeden for the first time and he realized she was a very beautiful woman. Simple in her dress and elegant in every feature.

Her smiled reached her blue eyes; challenging his intense gaze. "You can't stay in this laboratory all the time? I promise I make a delicious tea and I'm not horrible company."

Severus blushed slightly and looked back to his notes. "What day?"

"Thursday, three o'clock." Then stepping behind his desk and uncomfortably close for the potions master, Helen put an elegant finger in his book. "You have my address... here."

It had been a long time since Severus had felt desire, but she was so close he could feel her heat. She smelled womanly of lavender and primrose; he closed his eyes briefly and felt himself harden with want for her. Then regaining his wits, he pushed back from the desk and stepped away from her quickly.

"Tea will be acceptable. I will bring your potion then, Mrs. Steeden."

"Wonderful!" She bid him smiling and taking his hand in hers. "And you must call me Helen. I look forward to it."

Thursday tea lead to tea again Tuesday and dinner on Friday. It was mutually accepted that they enjoyed one another's company. Discussing several topics from art to literature to Hogwarts and a tentative friendship was beginning to take root. After dinner, they took wine by the fire. Severus had already come to the realization that this woman wished to be his friend- and why not, he was her lifeline to the potion she needed to mend her hands and provide her a living- the Slythern in him could accept that. She was too beautiful and too perfect to ever want more from him. Or so he thought...

As they sat on the small love-seat in front of the fire talking, Helen tentatively laid her fingers over his. Her blue eyes locking with his dark. "Severus, I told you I was grateful for what you've done for me. Even outside of being my potion maker, I think there is commonality between us." She paused and wetted her lips as the fire cracked and hissed.

Snape swallowed hard. He had not foreseen this.

"If there is any way that I could be a comfort to you..." She said lightly, her fingers brushing against the backs of his.

He stood from her suddenly from her. Pacing towards the hearth, he leaned against the mantel kicking his boot against the grate.

"I'm sorry, I thought you found me ... attractive." She said behind him quietly.

Voice grave. "Helen, you are physically perfect," he said, still gripping the mantel for support.

"Is there someone else?"

How could he tell her he was scarred, deformed beneath his clothes by Nagini. He could never let such a woman of such physical perfection see him so marred. She would be disgusted. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply and let go the mantel turning to her. "There is no one else."

Returning to the sofa, he'd have to tell her enough to deny her. Sitting, he spread his hands over his tights, readying himself for her reaction. "You know I was in the War. I know you must of have heard... that you must know who I was. What I had to do... It was in all the papers."

"Yes." She whispered. "I read the papers. Your name was not unfamiliar to me before we meet."

Voice shaking, "I was attacked by Nagini, Lord Voldemort's familiar, a poisonous snake. Nearing the end of the battle, he had meant to kill me, but he obviously didn't succeed." He paused and looked to the fire, "I survived, but I'm not the same man, Helen."

His face burnt with shame as he lifted his hand to the bridge of his nose in attempt to calm himself. "Because of my injury, I can not be with you." Turning his face slightly, "Do you understand?"

There was a long pause as she digested this information. When she finally lifted her eyes, he could see her pain ready. "But we may still be friends?"

Brow knotted, "Would you want that? Only that from me?"

"Friendship? Yes," She replied again, taking his hand and smiling slightly. "I would if you would."

The tempest inside him calmed. "I can hardly say no. You're the first person that's convinced me to leave my work for tea. "

"Good! Then it's decided we're friends. Now as my friend, I insist you have another glass of wine."

Helen's House: Thursday tea...

"I missed you Tuesday, Severus." The raven haired witch began as she poured him a cup. "It isn't like you not to show up for our tea."

His face strained in contemplation. "I am sorry, Helen. I needed some time to think."

Surprised, she paused and looked up from the cup. "About?"

He placed a hand on hers. "Please sit. There's something I need to tell you."

Putting down the tea pot, she took her seat in the opposing wing back chair by the fire.

Snape cradled his hands between his knees. He was about to be a liar, something he tried to avoid these days, but sometimes a white lie was easier for both than the ugliness of truth. "Six months ago, you had perhaps suggested that we might be more than friends."

Thin eyebrows raised, she blushed, "Yes. Yes, I did."

"And I told you then that I was unable to be your..." He paused as he struggled with the words, hoping she didn't find them vulgar, "Unable to be your lover because of the attack of Nagini."

She swallowed, cheeks pink, "I remember."

Finally dragging his eyes to meet hers. "My situation has changed. I've been taking a potion, something I've created. It's worked."

"Oh. So you can...?" Helen asked quietly, letting the words she could not say hang unsaid in the space between them.

He flinched, "Um, yes. I could be more than your friend if you'd like that." A younger woman's acceptance has finally given me the courage.

"Oh." Another reply without confirmation. She looked to the crackling fire, "Would you like that?"

What he really wanted to say was, no. I want to fuck Hermione Granger because somehow I can't get the little vixen out of my thoughts and my cock can't stop growing hard at her images of her sexual supplication in my mind. But since she's going to marry that pathetic Weasley hero-boy, I'm going to pursue you. Not because I'm longing for you now or that I particular feel a sexual desire for you, but because you are here and it's what I should want. You are what should make me happy. You are a beautiful, kind and talented witch and we are friends. You are probably my only real friend. And finally, I'm going to sleep with you because you're a woman and it's been a long damn time. And I know in time, I'll forget the Granger witch, I'll forget her passion and eager charms. Somehow, her memory will fade and I will have you and that will make me happy... Probably.

"Yes, Helen, I would to pursue that course." His voice replied, low and rasping.

Her breathing was tight in her corset. "Then off we go!" She pushed a smile onto her face, then raising her tea cup to her lips, "To more than friends?"

They continued with their tea, until it was growing late. Severus stood. "I should go home."

She stood too, smoothing out her skirts. "Well, this has been a very eventful tea."

Sensing that she was easing with the change in their status, he asked. "May I kiss you?" He felt a bit like a school boy begging for his first kiss, but he was unsure with Helen what she would permit and what she wouldn't. He didn't want to frighten her.

"Yes, of course." She replied, not moving, hands gathered in her traditional long skirts.

Stepping forward, he took her hand between his. Then lifting his right hand, he soothed his knuckles against her cheek and looked at her deeply, "You are very beautiful."

Warming, her eyelids closed, "Thank you."

Leaning forward, he kissed her. It was a chaste kiss, she did not lean in in response. Disappointed, he chided himself. Surely there must be more than this between us. If it didn't come naturally, perhaps he could force the emotion, stimulate the desire through force.

Hand skimming her arm, he gripped her bicep tightly and pulled her roughly against him as his mouth pried hers open. Her breasts pushed firmly against his chest, he cradled his hand in her hair as he simultaneously explored her mouth.

Suddenly, her hands were at his chest pushing, "No." She pushed again. "No!"

Dropping his hold on her he stepped away, breathing hot and fast. Likewise, her smooth porcelain cheeks were red and inflamed.

"I know it's been a long time for you Severus, but I can't move this fast from friend to lover." She replied, breathless.

"I'm sorry, Helen. I don't know what came over me." Bringing his hand to his forehead, he stepped back from her again.

"Don't be cross with yourself, Severus. It will grow between us."

Did she feel nothing, too?

"Give us time. Give me time."

He'd given her six months! He knew why he wasn't responsive, because his brain and his cock were elsewhere. But why wasn't she more needful for him?

"You do not find me attractive. You don't want this." He spoke his truth immediately and began gathering up his robes to leave. "It's okay, Helen. We don't have to play this charade."

"Shhh, Severus. That's your voice, not mine!" She said, catching his hand and turning him back towards her.

"You're a very handsome man. Perhaps you were a gawky school boy, but those days are long behind both of us. From what I've heard, you're a very powerful wizard and I know you are an extremely talented and brilliant man."

She paused and bringing a soft hand to his jaw, "You've always reminded me of that dark gypsy, Heathcliff. So beautiful and so troubled, the anti-hero to your own story. I just hope I can be your Cathy."

He froze. No. She would never be his Cathy. That night, the dreams began...

Author's Notes: Thank you so much for the reviews! I love the feedback and I love to know what you think should happen next, even if I can't make it all come true. Just remember, the course of true love never did run smooth! ;) The chapter title comes from a Wuthering Heights Emily Bronte quote: "It's not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles, but the honeysuckle embracing the thorn." It reminds me of our two protagonists.