Hermione was sitting on the sofa, reading the latest book on Potions, and
idly wondering where Severus had got to. He was supposed to be home half an
hour ago. She realised that there was something digging in to her back, so
she scrabbled around in the cushions to find the offending article.
A book.
"Your witch and how to please her."
Oh dear.
Periodically Severus would confiscate these things from the children, read them, and be seized with the impression that there was something missing from their relationship. The last time he had bought her flowers, which was harmless enough, and much appreciated. The time before that he'd read an article on how he should be sensitive and caring and had spent ages following her around and asking her about her feelings.
It had taken all of her concentration not to snap at him.
Fortunately, these fads tended to wear off quickly and he would fall back into being the usual Severus: irritable, bad-tempered, but very good in bed. Just the way she liked him.
A quick glance at the front cover showed her that she was in trouble. The book was full of suggestions on how to spice up your love life; Hermione had visions of being expected to throw herself all over the bedroom. It wasn't an attractive proposition; she was lazy.
So when Severus sidled in, nearly an hour late, she restrained her desire to shout at him and simply wished him a good evening. There was plenty of time for trouble to develop later.
And develop it did.
He waited until they had finished dinner, passing the time with a desultory debate on whether it would be ethical to use the present Minister for Magic as potions ingredients. (Answer, perfectly, if you thought it was ethical to use flobberworms).
"I've been reading," he said, a little hesitantly, "that some women like to be dominated during sex; that they like to be made to feel weak and powerless."
"So, I'm told," she said cautiously, and intrigued a little in spite of herself.
"I was wondering whether you might like to try that this evening."
She sighed. She couldn't say no, not really, because it would hurt his feelings. She did hope that at some point he would realise that there was no need to keep trying to be a good husband, and that he could just be himself; until that happened, she would just have to put up with his occasional quirks.
"If you'd like to," she said politely.
"I spent a little time in the Library this afternoon, researching, and I think I've got it sorted out."
Hermione was strongly tempted to look at him, mouth open, but managed to refrain from looking like a guppy. Dear god, she hoped that Pince hadn't seen him.
"Ok," she said.
They found themselves sitting side by side on the sofa, and he took her hand in his. She was faintly bewildered, where was the overwhelming passion, the tearing off of clothes, the pinning of arms, the beating down of resistance. Not that that sort of behaviour was unknown, it's just it was normally her doing it.
"Did you know," he began in his best Professor's tones, "that women own less than 5% of the wealth in the world?"
She didn't and she couldn't see the relevance.
"Did you know that there has only been one female Minister of Magic in the entire history of the position?"
Really?
"Did you know that only 3 of the present Wizengamot members are women?"
No.
"Did you know that there has only ever been one Headmistress of Hogwarts?"
She did know that, she had read Hogwarts: A History from cover to cover. More than once. She just didn't see what this had to do with sex.
Oh.
Severus's periodic bouts at being a 'good' husband were nowhere near as annoying as what passed for a sense of humour.
"Ha, ha," she said, "very funny. Now I feel all weak and powerless, do you think we might get to the shagging?"
He snorted with laughter, and then did as he was told.
A book.
"Your witch and how to please her."
Oh dear.
Periodically Severus would confiscate these things from the children, read them, and be seized with the impression that there was something missing from their relationship. The last time he had bought her flowers, which was harmless enough, and much appreciated. The time before that he'd read an article on how he should be sensitive and caring and had spent ages following her around and asking her about her feelings.
It had taken all of her concentration not to snap at him.
Fortunately, these fads tended to wear off quickly and he would fall back into being the usual Severus: irritable, bad-tempered, but very good in bed. Just the way she liked him.
A quick glance at the front cover showed her that she was in trouble. The book was full of suggestions on how to spice up your love life; Hermione had visions of being expected to throw herself all over the bedroom. It wasn't an attractive proposition; she was lazy.
So when Severus sidled in, nearly an hour late, she restrained her desire to shout at him and simply wished him a good evening. There was plenty of time for trouble to develop later.
And develop it did.
He waited until they had finished dinner, passing the time with a desultory debate on whether it would be ethical to use the present Minister for Magic as potions ingredients. (Answer, perfectly, if you thought it was ethical to use flobberworms).
"I've been reading," he said, a little hesitantly, "that some women like to be dominated during sex; that they like to be made to feel weak and powerless."
"So, I'm told," she said cautiously, and intrigued a little in spite of herself.
"I was wondering whether you might like to try that this evening."
She sighed. She couldn't say no, not really, because it would hurt his feelings. She did hope that at some point he would realise that there was no need to keep trying to be a good husband, and that he could just be himself; until that happened, she would just have to put up with his occasional quirks.
"If you'd like to," she said politely.
"I spent a little time in the Library this afternoon, researching, and I think I've got it sorted out."
Hermione was strongly tempted to look at him, mouth open, but managed to refrain from looking like a guppy. Dear god, she hoped that Pince hadn't seen him.
"Ok," she said.
They found themselves sitting side by side on the sofa, and he took her hand in his. She was faintly bewildered, where was the overwhelming passion, the tearing off of clothes, the pinning of arms, the beating down of resistance. Not that that sort of behaviour was unknown, it's just it was normally her doing it.
"Did you know," he began in his best Professor's tones, "that women own less than 5% of the wealth in the world?"
She didn't and she couldn't see the relevance.
"Did you know that there has only been one female Minister of Magic in the entire history of the position?"
Really?
"Did you know that only 3 of the present Wizengamot members are women?"
No.
"Did you know that there has only ever been one Headmistress of Hogwarts?"
She did know that, she had read Hogwarts: A History from cover to cover. More than once. She just didn't see what this had to do with sex.
Oh.
Severus's periodic bouts at being a 'good' husband were nowhere near as annoying as what passed for a sense of humour.
"Ha, ha," she said, "very funny. Now I feel all weak and powerless, do you think we might get to the shagging?"
He snorted with laughter, and then did as he was told.