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WARNING: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of sexual acts.

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Chapter 3

A Mutual Violation

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"Well, what were you expecting, girl? Crimson and gold?"

Hermione wisely chose not to retort that she hadn't been critiquing the interior decorating of his bedroom. This was a highly delicate situation, and sour tempers would only make it worse. Besides, she found it to be uncharacteristically elegant and royal, with its deep forest greens and silver trimmings. The canopy bed was artistically carved, and the dark wood furniture matched it. Just what she'd expect the chambers of Salazar Slytherin to look like.

She breathed deeply to calm her heart rate. It had been bad enough trying to conceal her panic attack in the bathroom before the ceremony (and, subsequently, the one immediately after)...having a third would be excessive. Not to mention disastrous for what they had to do now. Hermione briefly wondered where all her Gryffindor courage had gone.

"It's very nice," she managed to croak, her mind entirely elsewhere.

Snape grunted derisively before walking to a tall, dark dresser on the other side of the room and unbuttoning his outer cloak.

"Well Hermione, my girl, I think that's your cue." She reached a hand up to the back of her white wedding dress to get at the clasp. Fortunately, it only had two, so if she made quick work of that, all that's left would be her panties. "The sooner we start, the sooner we finish, and the sooner I can go back to my rooms and cry myself to sleep." She almost laughed, but managed to restrain herself to a breathy 'huff'. It must have been loud enough for her husband to hear, however, for she heard his voice snap like a whiplash across the silent room.

"Stop!"

Hermione jumped a little, her fingers having just undone the first clasp at the middle of her back. She looked at him in confusion.

"What are you doing?" His voice seemed a bit strained. His face, although studiously blank, was betrayed by his eyes. If she could assign a name to what she glimpsed, it would be...panic.

She frowned. "But I thought...?"

Severus waved her query away with a hand. "That will not be necessary."

Hermione was startled to realize that this stung. Of course, the logical part of her brain told her that it was nothing personal. But it still hurt...just a little. And he didn't have to act so bloody relieved when she dropped her arms to her sides. She knew she wasn't beautiful, but surely she wasn't that unattractive, was she? "Oh," she murmured quietly. "Well, whatever makes this easier for you."

The tall wizard let out a snort, opening the dresser doors and pulling out a drawer. "Regardless of what you and your little friends may think of me," he said while reaching in and picking out two, small bottles, "I am not a man who lusts after students."

This rankled her. "That's disgusting," Hermione grimaced. "Nobody in their right mind would accuse you of...of..." she fumbled, "that."

Snape gave her a knowing look. "Few people are in their right mind, it seems. Not that I've ever suspected otherwise."

Hermione didn't know how to respond. She shuffled over to the large king bed that dominated the room and hefted herself up onto the mattress. "If it makes you feel any better," she offered, "I've never thought of you like that."

"I know," he said quietly. Severus approached her cautiously, as though she was an injured badger in a bear trap, and held out the vials to her.

She forced a smile as she took them. "What are they?"

Her husband swallowed. "Aids. For what must be done." He indicated each vial in turn. "This one is a contraceptive. My own variation, of course. Nothing the Ministry can trace, and fairly straightforward to make. It shall be available to you until this marriage is dissolved..." he swallowed again, "...or until you...so choose to..." he coughed slightly, "...stop taking it." His eyes were locked on the vials, quite determined not to look at her.

Hermione had never before seen the Potions Master this flustered. If it wasn't her that he was about to bed, she would have been quite amused by this. Which was not to say she wasn't. It also made her nervous and a bit awkward. "Well, what were you hoping for, my girl?" she asked herself. "Professor Snape to take charge and sweep you off your feet? An expert lover who would seduce a girl half his age that he's been teaching since she was eleven?" As terrible as this situation was for her to comprehend, Hermione couldn't imagine how humiliating and heinous this situation must be for him. He had sold his life away to Dumbledore in order to amend a mistake of his past: a decision that had stripped him of his freedom, dignity, safety, and chance at happiness. And now, because of Thicknesse and the Ministry's damned Marriage Law, Dumbledore could coerce him into a sham of a marriage to further his own ends...under the pretenses of protecting him. He was being ordered to bed one of his students.

And yet, his first action in the bedroom is one out of concern for her. He had brewed a special potion for her so she could continue her education... So she wouldn't have a child and be forced to juggle school and pregnancy. A little voice inside her added that Snape also considered the fact that she would never truly wish to bear him an heir. She felt somewhat ashamed for being so self-pitying.

Hermione looked up and gave him a genuine smile. "Thank you very much. That was very kind."

He shrugged casually, although the stiff posture of his spine gave way to his awkwardness.

"And this one?"

Snape gave pause. "An aid to...make this whole thing easier for you."

"A lust potion." It was not a question.

He nodded curtly, attempting to save face and act professional, as though this was merely a homework assignment...an effort undermined by his rose-tinted cheeks.

On the surface, Hermione was overwhelmingly relieved that he had thought of this. She didn't relish the thought of having sex with her unattractive potions professor. Yet, deep down inside, there was something screaming at her that this was not right. This was her wedding night, and it was supposed to be painful and awkward to an extent. Hadn't she told herself that, while this was far from being the marriage she'd always wanted, she would step up and make the best of it? If this is the only wedding she got, she would make it as close to her dream as possible. And these potions would simply remove her from the experience.

His young wife unstoppered the home-made contraceptive potion and downed it in one swig, and then looked up at him with a confident smile. "Thank you, S-Severus." She would definitely need to work on using his first name. It felt so foreign and forbidden. "But you can have this back." The Gryffindor held up the lust potion to her husband, who had gone as still as a statue. "This isn't exactly what I hoped my wedding night would be like," she confessed quietly. "But nothing is going to rob me of the full experience. I'm not ashamed of what we have to do, and will not hide behind this drug."

Severus stared at her in incomprehension. This was the...second? third time? he'd been left speechless and flabbergasted by this child in a matter of days. No, he corrected himself. Most definitely not a child. If there was any adjective to describe Miss Granger over the past week, it would not be 'childish.' He had tried never to take notice of her as a separate entity from Potter and Weasley, but loathe as he was to admit it, Hermione had impressed him. The level of grace and maturity she had shown since that afternoon in the Headmaster's office had baffled him, and he had begun to see her in an entirely different light.

A light that made him all the more averse to molesting her. Snape never imagined he could find himself hating Albus more than he did at that moment.

"Miss Granger, I assure you there is no shame in utilizing resources that will make tonight...bearable for you. No one will know."

Hermione raised an eyebrow in a strikingly accurate imitation of her husband's patented look. "Mrs. Snape," she corrected demurely.

Severus made a choking sound that was quickly converted into a cough and glared at her.

Mustering the remains of her courage, she forced a smile (that was more of a grimace), and gave the vials back to him. "I would know. Now, are we going to do this, or what?" Hermione nervously scooted up the mattress to the head of the bed and pulled down the covers. Grabbing the silky material of her dress, she slid over and pulled the sheets up to her chin.

After a moment of hesitation in which he simply stared, her husband muttered "Nox" and the lights went out.

Rather than returning the vials to the dresser, he placed them on the night stand next to the bed. She could very well change her mind, he reasoned...when she came to her senses.

It was pitch dark, and Hermione could just make out the outline of Snape quickly removing his dress jacket and shoes. Once he was down to his undershirt and pants, he slipped between the covers, maintaining as much distance from her as the large bed allowed. Lying on his back, he made no move towards her; instead, he stared up at the ceiling.

They stayed like that for several long minutes, neither gathering the courage to break the silence.

Hermione was growing restless. The suspense was killing her. Wouldn't he rather just get it over with?

Despite her growing unrest, she still couldn't find it within herself to do anything about it. After all, it wasn't as if she was looking forward to it, either. And, the longer she waited for him to make the first move, the more difficult the prospect of breaking the silence became.

So, they continued to lie there.

And, she was beginning to fall asleep.

This had a positive effect, however, because a sleepy Hermione lacked the inhibitions and nerves of the awake Hermione. It was obvious that Snape wasn't about to instigate the matter, and was perhaps even waiting for her to do the initiating.

She yawned. The first movement either of them had made for a good five to ten minutes. "Well," she thought tiredly, "might as well find out what the deal is. Can't begin if there's no starting line."

Hermione turned her head on the pillow to study his sharp profile in the darkness. For all she knew, he might already be asleep. "So..." she spoke quietly, "...we should probably get on with it, then."

He sighed in irritation. "Miss Grang-"

"Snape," she interrupted through another yawn.

The glare he gave her, if she could see it in the dark, would have boiled water. "Mrs... Hermione," he compromised, "I cannot simply, as you say, 'get on with it.' As I'm sure you're aware, the male anatomy is unable to perform on command."

"Oh, right." She'd read about that. Performance anxiety. Or just plain anxiety. Her logical, engineering mind could wrap around that. For every problem, there is a solution. And this was definitely a problem with a solution.

Hermione cleared her throat. "If you wish to take the lust potion, it would be all right."

Severus' answering laugh was laced with a tinge of hysteria. "Regrettably, that is the sort of mind-altering potion that a man in my role cannot afford to indulge in. Someone in my position must be in their right mind at all times. One never knows when...your services may be required."

He needn't explain further. It terrified her to think that he could be summoned by Voldemort any waking hour of any day. Even on his wedding night.

Well, that ruled that out. Which only left good, old-fashioned Muggle means. "Oh happy day." Sighing, she chastised herself for thinking such unflattering thoughts about her new husband. He didn't deserve that. He deserved many things, but a frigid and disgusted bed partner was not among them. How many women had he slept with? she wondered. Or worse, it occurred to her, raped.

Taking another good look at him, it didn't appear like he was going to be ready any time soon. That made her seriously doubt that he'd ever raped anyone. Death Eaters don't exactly get performance anxiety at Dark revels, let alone in the privacy of their own bedroom.

"I gather that some form of stimulation is required," she stated. Straightforward, and bluntly honest.

Snape gave her another sneer. "Oh well done, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor," he spat.

"Would you like me to..." she trailed off meaningfully.

"No!" His voice was sharp, but also horrified. "I've been doing this all my life, I think I can handle it now. Just be patient."

Hermione once again swallowed the pinprick of hurt at the slight on herself. Did he think her completely incapable of arousing him, or did he find her that unattractive? She remained silent, and allowed him to start moving quietly beneath the sheets on his end, undoing his pants and getting in position.

Severus closed his eyes, making short and fast movements in the familiar pattern he knew too well.

Hermione did her best to ignore the slight rocking of the mattress.

He tried to increase his breathing to enhance the sensations he was striving to create. He tried to conjure up an image of Lily in his mind to distract him from the tempting young witch lying expectantly next to him. Wait...tempting? She was his student, for godsake. He felt dirty just thinking of her in such a way. And now any arousal he had worked for evaporated.

Growing impatient, Hermione stifled a sigh. "You're not exactly good at this, are you?" She could have worded that more tactfully, she considered, but felt that he needed a pinprick of his own. For a man making repeated insinuations about her appearance, he wasn't exactly Fabio.

His hand stopped it's frantic pumping. "Not that it's any of your business," he sneered, "but sex and romance are conquests for the young and foolish. I have never been either, so I defer to your experience."

Hermione was too occupied decoding the first half of his statement to respond to the little remark about her so-called experience. "You're a virgin?" she asked skeptically.

He sniffed disdainfully. He absolutely refused to be embarrassed.

"It's not a bad thing, you know," she offered helpfully. "Being a virgin, I mean. Society has moved away from chastity being an honorable thing lately. Now people judge you if you haven't buggered somebody as early as fourth year. Gossip used to be spread about you if you had slept with someone before marriage...now it's the other way 'round. I sort of miss those days."

Snape didn't respond, or make a sound. Nor did he resume masturbating.

Hermione sighed. What must be done, must be done. "But I must admit, that your being a virgin is a bit of a problem now. How did you ever manage as a Death Eater, then? I thought it sort of came with the territory."

He turned his head to face away from her, a gesture she identified as a defense mechanism similar to when he would hide his face behind a curtain of hair. "The Dark Lord understands that...forced sexual congress...has never been a motivator for me."

Hermione considered this for a moment. "And at revels?"

Snape gave a grunt from his end of the bed. "It has been a spot for mockery among them. But being that I outrank them, there is little they can do about it except try to tempt me."

"Even in the beginning?"

He hesitated. "There have been times when...partaking in such debauchery would have cemented my position beyond reproach." The Slytherin still faced the wall.

"But you never did," she finished for him. After a moment's silence, she voiced what she'd been thinking. "I'm surprised Dumbledore allowed it."

He turned his head sharply to look at her.

She could feel his eyes boring into her, demanding she elaborate. "I mean," she continued, "he's condoned and even ordered you to do some pretty horrible things in the past just to blend in with them. I would have thought he'd have ordered you to join in the...festivities. It seems like something he'd do."

There was a pregnant pause. "He probably would have," Snape confessed, his voice barely audible. "Had he known."

Hermione took a moment to digest this knowledge.

Severus waited for her shocked outrage that he'd withheld important knowledge from the headmaster and head of the Order. That keeping vital intelligence from the leader of the Light was a violation of his trust. But it never came.

"Oh that's just fantastic!" she burst out angrily. "So Dumbledore believes you're a rapist! What a NICE old man..."

Her husband hadn't expected this reaction.

"Must make it a real joy to work for him!"

It was a much more entertaining one, he must admit.

"...He just EXPECTS us to follow his orders while remaining all 'Oh I know the whole story, but I can't tell you because you're just a pawn!'"

Severus happily listened to his young wife go on a three minute rant about the wicked, scheming, and utterly heartless bastard of a headmaster, and why he needed to be hanged by his own beard.

"...And to think I regarded him as a fucking father figure!" she finished, righteous indignation flushing her cheeks with emotion.

"Language, Mrs. Snape," he corrected with a smirk that she could clearly hear in his voice.

His snarky remark, coupled with the use of her new title, completely knocked the wind out of her sails. Hermione gasped for breath after her long tirade, realizing for the first time that the man next to her had more in common with her than did any boy she'd previously met. Not even Ron or Harry could understand what the two of them were going through. She looked at Severus' silhouetted form as if she could actually see him...and she did. Just not physically. Acting purely on impulse, and throwing caution to the wind, she leaned over and in one swift movement, pressed her lips to his.

Initially, his entire body froze up. Never before had a woman initiated a kiss with him, and never before had a woman been this aggressive. Nor, while he was at it, had he had a woman in his bed at all, for that matter.

Regardless of his shock, the young Gryffindor lived up to her house's reputation by not backing down. This was NOT the time to get cold feet, she told herself. Hermione rode out and preserved the original spark of passion that had caused her to kiss him in the first place. She nurtured and flamed it, no matter how much of a non-response she was receiving.

Encouraged by his...well...his lack of resistance, Hermione decided to take charge. She was going to have sex with him tonight, one way or another, so there was no need to be shy about it, she reasoned. Snape was clearly in no mind to do it, and it had to be done. Hermione supposed it was for the best that he thought she was experienced in this matter. While it wouldn't make it any less awkward, hopefully he would trust that she knew what she was doing. She just needed to own it...if she acted confident, he would believe it. Hell, it wasn't as though he'd know the difference. She smirked slightly against his lips and could tell he felt it. She knew the Sorting Hat had put her in Gryffindor for a reason. "Although, the next time Ron asks me why I wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw, I'm definitely keeping that answer to myself."

Her tongue ran a slow, firm track along the closed opening of his lips, inducing a surprised gasp from the near stone-like figure beneath her. Hermione, ever the opportunist, seized the chance to deepen the kiss. Without breaking lip contact, she crawled across the space between them and threw a leg over his lap, amazed by her own bravery.

Snape made a sound deep in his throat that wasn't quite a groan, and wasn't quite a grunt; and, while he still hadn't exactly thrown her off him (yet), he hadn't done much to reciprocate the effort.

When she came up for air, his hands grabbed her shoulders firmly. "What do you think you're doing, girl?"

She was privately gratified to hear a slight crack in his voice. Hermione gave him a quizzical look, and then arranged her face into what she hoped was a coy smile. "Why, getting on with it, Mr. Snape," she teased, lowering her body against his and delivering an open-mouth kiss to his upper neck.

He couldn't help but lean his head back in pleasure, emitting a low hiss at the startling sensations that coursed through him at such a foreign touch.

Taking that as a good sign, she worked her tongue and lips up his neck to the sensitive skin behind his ear. At the reflexive "ah" sound her husband made, she felt emboldened and explored a little more, sucking in his earlobe and laving it with her tongue. He seemed to like that. Oh yes. She could feel goosebumps rising on his arms. She gave his earlobe a light nibble, and his hands compulsively flexed against her arms. Whoever said that Slytherins were hard to read, clearly hadn't been talking about this type of language. It was really rather simple, once you got the hang of it.

"Miss Gr...girl... You need to stop this. Whatever you're trying to... This is entirely..." he paused at a particularly well-timed suckle. "...inappropriate."

She pressed her torso into his body, making him tense up. Apparently, he was quite new to the experience of having breasts pushed up against his chest. "We're married now, S-Severus. This is our wedding night." She punctuated each sentence with a kiss to his neck and tender skin behind his ears. Hermione felt goosebumps on his arms. And with each kiss, a slight shudder would run through his body. "You and I both know this has to happen." Kiss. "So my advice to you is..." Nibble. "...Make the best of it. Make this the wedding night you've always imagined." Nuzzle. "If this is the only marriage you and I ever have, why not try to enjoy it as much as we can?"

Her mouth found his again, and when it did, he hesitatingly, almost shamefully, returned the kiss. As if he felt guilty for not being able stop either her or himself. Snape's kiss spoke volumes...he was unsure of himself, painfully inexperienced, and very much inept. The vulnerability she found in this grim man touched a part of her that she didn't even realize existed. It appeared that he had never known love in his life, and for some inexplicable reason, Hermione wanted to introduce it to him.

Hermione slowly began a light writhing in time to the kiss' rhythm, running her hands up and down his arms, eventually moving them to his stomach and chest. Her fingers bunched up between the fabric of his shirt. Choosing to selectively ignore his desire they both remain clothed, she made quick work unbuttoning his white dress undershirt and pushing it off his front. Severus was effectively distracted by her mouth to not object. Even when she resumed stroking his chest and belly without the separation of his shirt, the most he did was sigh.

Beneath her fingertips, she could feel the many raised lines of scars on his skin. There must have been dozens in all. Some were short and smooth, others jagged and long. This must have been why he didn't want to be unclothed, she wondered. He was self-conscious and embarrassed. But to her, his scars reminded her of all that he'd sacrificed for the Light, including this sham of a marriage, and that this was the reason she'd agreed to it. Yes, she had given up a future she had always imagined living...but she was only giving up A life. A version she had envisioned while growing up. She hadn't given up her life...merely chosen a different, unexpected one.

On one pass, she firmly sat down directly on his groin, grinding herself against his quickly rising erection. Oh glory...he wasn't the only one who enjoyed that. Before she lost herself in her own pleasure, she slowly dragged herself down his body.

Confidence.

She hooked her fingertips over the hem of his pants and the elastic of his cotton boxers and pulled them over his half-inflated penis, not stopping until they were both around his knees. She did her best not to stare at his member, trying to make herself approach this clinically. Severus obligingly lifted his legs and allowed her to remove the pants and boxers. His mind may yet be opposed to her bold actions, but his body - long overdue for such attention - unthinkingly complied.

Own it.

Severus somehow broke free of his shock and lifted his head off the pillow in what appeared to be horror. "What are you... Hermi... no..." He attempted to push her away. "...you don't have t..."

She caught one of his hands that had feebly tried to nudge her away and swiftly inserted his ring finger into her mouth, sucking on it strongly. His weak words of protest were halted by a swift intake of breath. No, she would do this. Because he wasn't fully erect yet. Because who knows when the last time a girl had pleasured him like this before (if ever). And because...the more he protested, the more she wanted to.

After slowly releasing his finger, Hermione ran her hands up and down his thighs, over his flat abdomen, and around his groin, doing her best to tease him. It was clear by his small jerks and shallow breathing that it was working. The time had come to where she couldn't ignore his manhood any longer. Giving herself permission, she watched in fascination as his cock twitched slightly each time she brushed by it. It wasn't overly long or large, but being attached to such a tall and painfully thin body gave it the illusion of being substantial in size. Thankfully, the darkness in the room hid any further analysis such as color. It was, over all, not exactly ugly...well, as not-ugly as a man's package could be, she supposed.

"That's enough studying, my girl, or he might think you're criticizing it." She grasped his now-rapidly hardening penis by its base in a firm, confident grip, which caused his breathing to cease entirely. Hermione slid her hand up and down the shaft a few times to gather her wits about her before she made the plunge.

Snape swallowed convulsively in both anxious anticipation and frightened self-consciousness.

Before she could lose her nerve, she lowered her head and enveloped the head between her lips and swirled her tongue along its surface. She was startled by the very vocal moan and violent throwback of his head against the pillow, but didn't cease her ministrations. Hermione struggled to keep his cock in her mouth with his hips bucking slightly. Keeping one hand wrapped around the base of his erection, she lowered her mouth down until her lips met her fingers and sucked hard on the shaft, continuing to swirl her tongue against it.

She began an even-paced, up-and-down motion, keeping a constant suction and tight grip on him.

His noises were perfectly timed with her strokes, becoming more and more breathy as he grew harder. Hermione could barely feel it pulsating with his heartbeat inside her mouth. As she felt his body vibrating with the amount of self-restraint it took for him not to grab her head and start thrusting, Hermione began to feel aroused on an entirely different level...she was causing him to lose control like this. She was bringing pleasure to a man who had ceased to expect kindness and gentleness from the world.

Deciding to abandon all reservations and recalling every sex manual and trashy erotic novel she'd ever read, the young Gryffindor flattened her hand against his groin while simultaneously taking all of his cock into her mouth. She fought the urge to gag as she felt the tip of him lodge in the back of her throat. But the reaction she received made it all worthwhile. Snape let out a groan of pleasure and seized the columns of the headboard to keep from coming inside her mouth. The concentration he was using just to keep from climaxing was making sweat bead on his forehead. His eyes were screwed shut, his brows furrowed deeply, and his mouth was parted in exquisite agony. That face, so often regarded as ugly, so often arranged in a cold sneer, so often guarded and distrustful...Hermione found his face in that moment to be one of the most exquisite sights she'd ever seen. She would never see him in the same way again. And his expression shot a wave of lust through her that no potion could rival.

Severus was experiencing sensations he'd never even dreamed of...never in his life had he managed to produce such intense, overwhelming stimulation. It had been a challenge in and of itself not to come the moment she laid her hands on his erection...it was the fact that those hands were so deliciously not his own that nearly sent him over the edge. He had done remarkably well holding himself back, for a virgin. But now that his young wife was not only sucking him off, but deep-throating him, and basically using every dirty trick he'd ever heard of...

Hermione had begun increasing her tempo when Snape made an inarticulate plea and forcibly pulled her from his throbbing cock. "I'm gonna..." he gasped. "You'd better... I'm gonna..."

His wife smiled and moved up his body. Looking down at her wedding dress she still wore, Hermione wished Snape would let her take it off. She was certain he wouldn't complain, given his present circumstances, but all the same...she didn't want to ruin the moment. If the sight of her naked body would kill the mood for him, there was no sense in doing it.

Hoisting the shiny, silky material up and over his hips, Hermione held onto his erection with one hand and carefully guided herself down onto it. With gritted teeth and a small hiss, she took a moment to push it inside. Gravity soon took over, and his cock slid all the way into her core. She let out a cry as it sank home, sitting down on his lap to regain her breath. A small ripple of magic from the penetration informed her the marriage was now consummated and that there was a book in the Ministry somewhere that was updated. She forcibly blocked any more thoughts on that and returned to the moment.

Snape was barely coherent, his knuckles ghostly white as they squeezed the headboard with all his strength. He could feel every inch of her wrapped around him. She was just...so tight... He could feel her fluids slowly seeping out of her channel and running over his lap. Involuntarily, he began thrusting upward into her channel driven purely by instinct, grabbing her thighs still covered by the wedding dress and making the most arousing grunts she'd heard.

Hermione forced her entire weight on him to keep his hips still while Severus gradually regained control and she recovered. She waited a few moments more to catch her breath, and then began an agonizingly slow grinding movement, keeping all of him inside. Letting out a small cry, her movements stopped again for a few moments so she could regroup. At last, after what seemed like minutes to Snape, she lifted herself up, nearly high enough for his cock to slide out, and eased back down. She knew he was going mad with sexual frustration, and decided not to keep him waiting any longer. Hermione began rocking back and forth, then only using her hips to take him in and out as her husband's reaction escalated.

At his audible and bodily clues, she knew he was on the edge (and had been for quite some time). His hands left her legs and returned to the headboard, his entire body straining.

Hermione increased her pace.

Snape let out a sob, desperately pumping into her with each stroke. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

His body began to go rigid, and he moved his iron grip to her waist.

"It's okay. Just let go," Hermione answered him.

It was practically whispered, but the breathy command was his undoing. Snape let out a shout, and with one final, violent thrust, he pulled down on her waist as he arched off the bed, pushing his cock as deep inside as possible as he erupted within her.

His entire body trembled with the aftershocks of the biggest orgasm he'd ever had, and his muscles felt like iron weights attached to his bones. Severus kept his eyes closed to try and even out his breathing and lower his heart rate. But mostly, he kept them shut so he didn't have to see her watching him. Aside from Dumbledore, no person had ever seen him so vulnerable in any sense of the word. And nobody on earth had ever seen him this bared and exposed...not even Madam Pomfrey. Certainly she had seen him naked on many occasions, but there had never been this element of complete surrender on his part. To have been forced to expose himself on nearly every level imaginable - to lose his virginity - to a student of his. A Gryffindor. Potter's friend. A girl half his age...

Snape squeezed his eyelids closed almost painfully, and slowly breathed through his mouth to regain control of his emotions. He would not break down in front of her, God damn it. That was the last line of defense. Nobody, nobody would see Severus Snape cry like a little bitch. Like Snivellus.

Hermione, still sitting on top of him with his deflated penis inside her, studied his reaction. Initially, she had been quite pleased with herself for masterfully handling the situation. Not only had she managed to seduce her surly, sardonic professor, but she'd given him the most intense orgasm he'd probably had in a very long time. But now... judging by his pained expression and his carefully controlled breathing, he was moments away from having an emotional breakdown.

Now who's the rapist? she thought bitterly. Rather than a triumphant lioness, she couldn't help but feel like she'd just molested him. And in a way, she guessed she had. He had been violated against his will. They both had. They had both been victimized by this law, and violated in the worst ways possible. Hermione forcibly had to remind herself that none of this was her fault, and she supposed that if he had been the initiator, she would be crying as well. She couldn't blame herself for any of it.

Even so, she simply had to do something for Severus. How much she would like to have someone hold her at that moment...someone whose shoulder she could cry into, who would rub circles on her back, and would offer calming platitudes. If she couldn't have that someone, then the least she could do was be that person for her suffering husband.

Gingerly, she removed herself from his lap and crawled up to sit next to his head. He'd turned his face away from her, and began to shift his weight to turn over on his side. Hermione gently placed a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it soothingly, not knowing how else to comfort him.

"Get out." He weakly tried to shrug her hand off him. "Your duty is fulfilled." His voice quiet, dark.

As relentless as she'd been during the consummation of their marriage, so much the stronger was she for the recovery. A lioness takes care of her own, and she supposed that Snape, like it or not, was now hers. "Shhhh. Come here," she murmured. Hermione guided him back towards her until his head was nestled into her stomach and his shoulder in her lap. Wrapping both arms around him, she simply held him...not wanting to appear patronizing with any rubbing or soft words of encouragement.

With one final, exhausted attempt to provoke her into leaving, Snape spat out "What do you think I am? a Hufflepuff needing to be coddled?"

"Not at all, Severus," she replied. "I think you're the bravest man I've ever known."

His responding snort was caught in a choking cough. "Can you not leave me one speck of dignity?"

Hermione sighed sadly. "I'm afraid neither of us has any left to lose." She patted his arm. "So what's there to do but go to sleep. We'll sort this all out in the morning."

Snape was too drained to argue further. Hell, he was too weak to physically remove himself from her embrace. She would pay for this humiliation, he resolved. But meanwhile, his eyes were closed and his breathing deepened, her stomach was warm and soft and he soon fell fast asleep.

His wife remained awake for a good half hour longer than he, kept company by all her thoughts. Hermione resolutely waited until she was absolutely certain Snape was asleep before finally succumbing to the tears she'd been holding in all day. She cried quietly, ensuring her body didn't shake with her sobs, and carefully making certain her tears missed landing on his head. Not even for a moment did she regret her decision to marry him, though. Her own freedom was a small price to pay to ensure the safety of the Order's spy and in turn, the wizarding world. But that hardly made the reality of her situation any easier to bear.

She allowed herself to cry for a little longer, then told herself she'd cried enough and that she really did need to sleep. Dragging her mind away from self-pity, Hermione's thoughts centered around the man in her arms, and she succumbed to her body's need for rest.