Chapter Nine

Turns out, Miss Granger was highly receptive to training. Four nights ago when their armistice came to an end with her falling asleep for the night, Severus had removed the books she had avidly been reading. He had sent Finicky to purchase them on his behalf having never previously had the time or finding the worthwhile in training a sub himself. With it also having been nearly two decades since he had been introduced to the scene and lifestyle, he was no longer familiar with the wide eyed wonder of seeing and learning it all for the first time.

So when he had taken the books from the room for his own study to see if it was something he would even want to do - or more accurately be capable of doing himself - he hadn't meant to begin conditioning her to a system of reward and punishment. That had just been a happy accident that further proved how uniquely suited she was to him and he to her. As if the scene in To Sir, With Adoration, that had so wholly transfixed her attention that she hadn't even noticed when her hands had begun absently rubbing at her silk clad breasts and flicking at her peaked nipples, wasn't proof enough. Or the way he had needed to rub one out after not being able to remove the image of her trussed up like the sub in the book from his mind before he could sleep himself. Then once more when he had awoken in the morning, hard as a rock, from seeing it all night in his dreams and every morning after.

True to her word, she had returned to her vicious and feral state the next day when he had come to have breakfast with her. She had been a raging inferno of fury, hurling obscenities and pillows at him with equal measure. Though surprisingly it had nothing to do with her captive state inside the manor and everything to do with the removal of the book she thought of as hers. In a manner meant to keep her ruffled and riled up, he dismissed her outrage and called her a disobedient little brat who needed to go stand with her nose in the corner until she calmed down enough to speak to him like the rational adult she was. He had even offered up his lap and hand for a maintenance spanking if she preferred that to the humiliation of being treated like the temperamental child she was imitating. That had ended with her throwing one of the books he had left behind at him with an exasperated scream tacked on for good measure.

Laughing as the book fell short, further enraging her, he had additionally pronounced that she wouldn't get further access to it, or any other books in the manor, until she learned to better control herself and had begun making headway in studying the books he had left her. That was when her cussing mouth and its less than inventive death threats had snapped shut and the second book she held as ammunition dropped to the bed.

"Good girl, Miss Granger," he had told her, picking up the first book and tossing it onto the bed. "Now, start learning how to conduct yourself like a proper lady. Then if you earn it, I'll allow you access to the library in a few days - which after this little display will now be warded against your entry - and further allow you the privilege of freely picking whatever your heart desires to read for your own enjoyment. But only after your lessons are conducted each day and completed to my satisfaction."

Since then she hadn't exactly been amicable but she had managed to keep a lid on her never ending well of anger, if only just. Her eyes still bored into him with enough fire that he was sure she was trying to wandlessly burn him if not kill him. He didn't mind though because if she was depraved, he was truly twisted.

No one had excited him as much as she did in a long time, if ever. Her feisty attitude, self-righteous fury, rude arrogance, self-superiority, and constant need to stand in opposition of him, had kept him on his toes and he had enjoyed every minute of it. Winning her over, taming her, and molding her into a conduit for his pleasure - and possibly more if they could ever see eye to eye on anything outside of sex - was going to be his most rewarding challenge. A soulmate wasn't something he had wanted, even with the untold depth of power they could potentially tap into if they came together, but he found himself increasingly intrigued by her and drawn to her.

His only problem was the frayed, nearly severed, connection he felt between them. Something had broken almost irrevocably before he had even known what she was to him. He could feel the fissure like a physical wound when in her presence and knew whatever it was came from her and was what was hidden beneath all of her deliciously adorable puffed up anger. However the very traits and attributes of hers that drew him in would be the ones that proved the most difficult to overcome in his progression with remedying what he could only assume was a fracture in their soul bond.

He needed to bend her into participating in more nights like their first. Then her guard would remain down long enough for him to begin worming his way into her as she was doing to him. He just preferred that getting her to that point wouldn't continue to come on the heels of torturing her. Even with his intention being to heal her, there was only so much he could take of seeing her writhe in pain and feeling the echoes of it along his own nerves.

Reaching for the delicate blue and gold bone china teacup that sat beside a warmed croissant with a slather of chocolate spread over top, Severus took a sip and winced despite the sweeter nature that the floral Moroccan desert tea leaned towards. Grabbing the handle of the honeycomb, he drizzled an additional spiral of the wildflower honey that complimented the flavors of his morning summer tea and gave it a gentle stir. Trying it again, he found it much more to his liking and inelegantly drained half the cup within the privacy of his sitting room.

It was a hurried habit his grandmother had never been able to break him of during his first cup of the day. After his first weeks in the manor when his mother had passed, she had given up and had instead arranged for that first cup to be taken in his rooms while he dressed for breakfast. Later, when he was in his mid-twenties and had arrived home ahead of the end of term to care for her as her health declined at a faster rate than he could heal to afford her the other sixty or so years she should have been entitled to, he found out it was how she too got ready in the mornings.

Scanning yet another personal account of the Prince family's history with soulmates as he indulged in his pre-breakfast routine, he grew increasingly frustrated as he turned up yet another dead end. Tossing the journal that had been penned by his great-great-grandfather and grandmother aside, he rubbed at his temples to stay off the headache that was already forming from his displeasure. Over the last several days of research into fractured bonds he had been hoping to avoid making the trip to London. However, it was becoming clear to him that his maternal line did not hold the answers to his problem. In fact, it seemed as though he was the first Prince in their long family history of mates to so royally screw up the bond.

Not entirely ready to face having to go to his father's home of all places for answers, he picked up the most recently - if two hundred fifty years ago could be considered recent - published text on soulmates and their bonds to read again. His avoidance hadn't proved entirely fruitless though. After reading this particular book three times in the last four days, he was now confident he could pass it along to Miss Granger. His ancestor had thankfully published it anonymously so that no one would look too closely at the Princes, particularly the first born in each family, and the higher than average rate their family line had at having a mark and finding their mates. A sure fate he thought he had missed by reaching the age of thirty-eight and having never met the witch that was his. He and his wife had also edited out the finer details of the bond to keep them hidden from those that looked to exploit the fragile connection between mates in its early stages of recognition. Chief among those, the power imbalance that existed between those who carried the weight of the bond - like he and his mother - and those who could walk away from it if they so choose - like his bastard of a father had done. They were the ones who had thankfully spread the idea that soulmates were a forgone conclusion. An idea he still fully intended to utilize himself in regards to Miss Granger so that his mother's history would not repeat itself with him.

Knowing the answers he sought weren't within the pages of the book as he flipped through it, Severus tossed it aside as well to join the growing pile of discarded resources. Grabbing his cup of tea, he slouched back into the couch and dropped his head over the back after finishing the rest of the cup's contents.

"Finicky," he sighed in summons.

With a barely discernible pop, his personal elf and head of the house appeared before him with his head bowed in deference.

"How may Finicky serve, Master?"

"Will you please go ahead of me to the Belgrave Square townhouse and be sure it's clear?"

"Finicky does not wish to speak out of turn but is Master sure it is wise?"

Lifting his head up from the couch, he gave the older elf a curious look, prompting him to elaborate.

"Mistress is less than pleased about her stay here in Ullswater."

Laughing under his breath, Severus said, "If that isn't the understatement of the year." More clearly he added, "We have a lake on one side of the property with all manner of unsavory beasts lurking within its depths and the rest is wrapped in forests minus the clearings directly surrounding the manor and stables. Forests - which happen to be inhabited by wolves and Merlin only knows what else - also encase the property. Then there's the mountains that surround all of that and the fact that she has no idea where she is so she wouldn't even know where to go or how far she could safely apparate. And lastly the small but very important detail that she most assuredly won't have forgotten about, being that she has no wand. She believes hers was lost to the snatchers and Bellatrix promptly reclaimed hers after she was collected with the others. I'll only be gone a few hours, less if I can help it. I think Mopsey and Suds can manage her until my return."

Reluctantly pulling on his ear, Finicky hesitated, "Sir, I do not wish to underestimate your assessment of Mistress but she seems highly motivated."

"Oh there's no doubt," he agreed, confusing the elf. "However she isn't without a brain. Miss Granger will not make a run for it until her health is in order, she has a plan, and has managed to channel her magic without her conduit. If she tried to run now she would either be dead within three days or I would catch her. I'll admit though, it's a coin toss on which would occur first."

With a reverent bow, Finicky answered, "Then if Master is sure, Finicky shall be on his way."

"Wait!"

"Yes, Sir?"

"If you wouldn't mind when you're done, would you pop over to Eaton Square since it's right there and check on my townhouse? I would like to have it ready for June though I'm managing my expectations and assuming I won't be able to bring her into London until I absolutely have to come late July."

"Still rather optimistic, Sir," the elf muttered. "Shall Finicky stop by the Garden of Reverence too? Maybe pick up a muzzle and leash for her?"

"Now that is being far too optimistic," Severus replied, ignoring Finicky's snark. "In the unlikely event that I will need my room at the Garden I shall contact Madame White myself. That is if she doesn't revoke my membership on principle. Something tells me the witch is going to be a harridan about all of this."

"Perhaps not," he offered, his face clearly expressing that he didn't believe his own words. "If that'll be all, Sir?"

"Yes, thank you Finicky."

"Always happy to be in your service, Master," the elf genuinely responded as he bowed before popping out.

Rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes, Severus stared up at the ceiling of his rooms further delaying the inevitable. He despised his father and had celebrated joyously and without end for three days when the old bastard had died. Then the missive requesting his presence at the will reading had come and he had celebrated further that night.

Though a substantial sum that he recklessly tried to squander, his father's attempt at righting his wrongs, or more accurately a buy off for a peaceful afterlife, would never bring his mother back. Nor would it make amends for the way he had tossed them aside in favor of the witch that became his wife, destroying his mother's reputation within society as he went and leading to her being ousted from her own family, lost to the muggle world by the time they came down from their anger. However, seeing his cunt of a wife's face when the attorney had announced that her husband's illegitimate child would be making off with sixty-eight percent of the family's wealth - everything but her own family money and property and what had been put into trusts for his other children upon their births - had renewed the celebration, the party lasting until he had to board the train for his return to Hogwarts at the end of the winter holiday, severely hungover and even more smug than he had been before.

None of that though took away from the fact that the bitch had amassed a collection on soulmates to rival that of the Princes'. If anyone had managed to find information and recounts on fractured bonds it would have been her. She had been unhinged - the burn scars on his shoulder that he had earned at four years old when she found out that her husband had been having him over to the house twice a month could attest to that - but she had been relentless in studying everything she could on how to sever Eileen from her husband's life. In the end though, she hadn't needed all her research. Her attack on him had made his mother sweep him up into the safety of her arms and walk out of his father's life for good. His father hadn't protected him and it had been enough for his mother to have attempted killing him for it when she found out, consequences to her own life and health be damned.

Groaning, he forced his clenched jaw to relax before standing up from the couch with his knees cracking and making his way through his rooms to finish getting ready for the day ahead. As he showered and absently palmed and rolled his sac, his thoughts drifted towards the witch on the first floor of his ancestral home and the damn image she had quietly requested he remember for some time in the future. Grasping the base of his half erect cock, he pulled upwards with his soapy hand and twisted his wrist around the head. Pumping back down and repeating the process he continued to lengthen and thicken. Remembering the taut peaks her nipples had become as she watched the image play out and how her fingers had begun to graze and flick across her silk clad flesh, he again pictured her with her hands bound to the outside of her spread ankles with silk or perhaps rope. The idea of seeing her lovely arse presented in the air to him while her face and chest were bowed down on the sheets had his other hand moving down to his sac as his movements increased. And that was just the tip of the fantasy. As his mind filled in the rest of the details, he quickly felt his sac draw tight and up towards his body, his release suddenly shooting out before he could grip himself harder to draw out the time he had to picture his far-off reality.

Breathing heavily as he wrung out the last of his come, Severus leaned against the shower walls and closed his eyes. Weighing his thoughts on the last three days against what he had to do today and how she had been four nights ago, he swiped his thumb over the sensitive head of his cock and made up his mind. It was going to be a shite few hours while he was in London and unless she snapped when he came to see her for breakfast and went into another episode of blind rage, she had been as well behaved as he imagined she could manage right now. He reasoned that she needed to know her efforts weren't going unnoticed and he wanted - and needed if he was truthful with himself - to see if he could coax out her tamer side. Since he would be in no mood to deal with her surliness and hostility upon his return, he hoped offering her up this reward at breakfast would give him something to look forward to upon his return.

Turning off the spray of the shower, he made quick work of toweling off and dressing. Looking at his nightstand and the copy of, To Sir, With Adoration, as he tucked the laces of his desert boots in, he figured he was already teetering on the edge of sexual frustration after the other night and grabbed it. With any luck turning up with the book in addition to taking her to the library after they ate, would make her further inclined to being amicable towards him later on. Summoning his leather jacket to wear over the plain white t-shirt he had pulled on for when he left for the city, he made his way back through the closet and en-suite to check on the progression of her rooms.

Thanks to the dedicated work of elves and their impressive magic, the remodeling was coming along faster than he had anticipated. Her closet was nearly complete, only absent of a few more personal decor touches. Those, along with a full wardrobe, would come later though when it was time for her to inhabit the space. For now while she was convalescing, they were both subjected to Mopsey and the silk and lace chemises she dressed her Mistress in much to Miss Granger's disgruntlement and his torture. Leaving the plush carpet of her dressing area, he stepped onto the boards that rested over cloth that was intended to preserve the integrity of the floors. Even with the wood covered and the floor littered with splattered paint, work dust, and debris, the rooms had seen improvement as remarkable as the closet.

The removal of the worn drapes and planks of wood that had kept the windows boarded up alone had done wonders to revive the space. Like his own suite, the massive windows directly overlooked the lake and the reflection of the forests and mountains that shimmered along its nearly still surface. Beyond the restored windows, the room was quickly taking shape to be a mirror image of his own. Thinking of the times he would see her gazing out the windows on the first floor though, he went in search of Bolts before the elves that were beginning work on the wall her bed was supposed to be could get too far into their task.

Finding the barking elf with his clipboard in the sitting room, he waited as he finished scolding a group of elves for not tapping off the floorboards before beginning work on painting the walls.

Turning to look up at Severus, Bolts asked, "Is Master pleased with the progress of Mistress's rooms?"

"Exceedingly," he praised. "I do have one, possibly two, adjustments I would like to make to her bedchamber provided it is feasible though."

"Whatever Master and Mistress desire, Bolts will make it happen," he declared. "Just tell Bolts what needs doing."

Guiding the elf back into the bedchamber, he pointed to the wall opposite the windows and said, "I think Miss Granger would prefer her bed to look out on the manor's view instead of the hearth, though the tile work is exquisite. I understand though if it's too late for such a change. She simply enjoys the direct view of the wild fields from her bed on the first floor while reading so much that I thought it would be a welcoming surprise for her."

"Stop!" He bellowed to the elves on ladders as they began floating up the crown canopy. "Rotate the layout ninety degrees to the right! Mistress wishes to overlook the lake!" Looking up at Severus he asked at a normal volume but excited tone of voice, "What is Master and Mistress needing? A nursery?"

Choking at Bolts's direct words, Severus swore without filter, "Fuck no! Children are most definitely off the gods damn table!"

"But Master has a duty to the Prestigious House of Prince to carry on the bloodline. And as the last of the Most Noble and-"

"No nursery," he swiftly interrupted with finality and a look so severe the elf took a step back as he bowed his head.

"Bolts is begging Master's pardon, Sir. Bolts meant no offense by the mention of little ones. Bolts wrongly assumed Mistress and Master would want heirs."

Softening his face as the poor elf started to shake, Severus reined in the flash of anger he felt at the near mention of his father's family name, and soothed the elf as best he could. "It was not the assumption of children, Bolts. The preservation of a line is of course something most family heads worry about and in that tradition you were trying to anticipate our needs. I cannot fault you for your diligence in your duties. However, that name and title is to never be spoken of in this home. Especially in the presence of your Mistress. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Master! Of course, Master!"

"Now the other thing I wish to have done if you and your staff can manage it, is adding a balcony with outdoor seating. I think perhaps a corner-fitted daybed and low table would be just the thing but I'll leave the layout and design up to you and your impeccable eye. Maybe even carry it around to my rooms as well and include a small space for casual dining."

"Not to worry. Bolts will make it perfect for Master and Mistress," he eagerly complied.

"Very good," he said, effectively ending their conversation.

Turning on his heel, he glided around the working elves and sliced his way back through the adjoining rooms to make his exit. Picking up his wand from the table he had tossed it onto the night before when he had come to bed, he halted at the door and studied the muggle money clip that had belonged to Tobias and the pounds fastened between it. Debating on the idea for less than a second, he picked it up and pushed it into the front pocket of his dark jeans alongside the velvet pouch of galleons and sickles. It was better to have it on him and not need it while he would be so close to Knightsbridge he reasoned. Otherwise when he inevitably strolled the shop lined streets as he often did when he was in residence at his London home, his eyes might fall upon something she would enjoy and he would have to make his way across the city to Gringotts for a conversion before he could make his purchase.

It would be an avoidable waste of time really, he thought, further aligning his mind with his questionable impulse to shop for his witch.

Making his way down the hall, he dutifully ignored the always gossiping portraits as he took hold of the banister and trotted down the stairs. The sound of tsking grandmothers who had long since passed followed him as he hastened his way to the room Miss Granger occupied, in a bid to not be late for breakfast. He wouldn't stand for her tardiness so in an effort for fairness he tried each day to be punctual for their arranged meals and lessons.

"Oh give the lad a break, Gwendolyn," Hadrian Prince admonished in the way only a man who had been married to a woman for over a hundred years before his passing could. "Don't you remember how little decorum you and I showed when the bond first tethered us together? Right improper we both were at all hours of the day and night. Or have you forgotten that our sweet Miranda was conceived before our wedding night."

"Hush old man!" The oil representation of Grandmother Gwendolyn hissed as the couple continued to follow him down the halls.

"Don't listen to her, Severus. Witches do not enjoy the games we wizards play. Honestly expressed infatuation is worth more than aloofness, especially where mates are involved."

The paintings! He silently exclaimed.

Coming to an abrupt stop, he caused Hadrian to run into Gwendolyn, sending her careening into a pile up of his other ancestors who had been keeping pace with him through the manor. Turning to face them, he demanded, "What do you know of fractured bonds?"

"Oh Severus dear, you didn't!" Gwendolyn protested, scandalized by the very idea. "What did you do to that poor girl? She hasn't even had time to adjust to the idea of having a mate. Surely not even you could have so royally fucked things over." Speaking over the offended gasps of the other oiled ladies, she continued, "I just don't even know what the Fates were thinking, pairing unassuming Eileen with that wretched man. Truly awful he was. I hope hippogriffs shite on his grave daily. And we all wondered at the time why she never told Clarisse and Julian who fathered you. Never has there been a more worthless and pathetic excuse of a man and wizard. Wholly unworthy of being blessed with a Prince mate."

Tuning out the hums of agreement, he focused on Hadrian and waited for his answer.

"Well?"

"As far as I'm aware, the scandal with your mother was the first in our family's long history of soulmates. I think you would need to track down one of your paternal ancestors or another, unrelated set of mates and seek out their histories. Sabina said she overheard you confirming that the lovely Hermione was adopted. Maybe the girl's family would have answers," He offered.

"After all, like your mother, you too are a first. Never in our history has one's mate been born into another generation. I can only imagine the abnormality of your matching has to do with your father's line or hers. Who did she say she hails from?"

"She didn't," he answered, rubbing at his temple as it began to throb.

"I really am too fucking old for this," he muttered.

"Nonsense!" Hadrian dismissed. "You're thirty-eight, that's barely a quarter life. You're in your prime and well established. You're the perfect age for this. Now go woo your way back into your fair maiden's good graces and just maybe we don't all have to worry about our family dying out with you. Your lack of heirs was starting to become alarming."

"Salazar's sac, what is with everyone this morning and family planning?" He growled, resuming his clipped walk to Hermione's room as the clock in the hall announced that he was officially late for their scheduled breakfast.

Coming up to her temporary room, Severus took a deep breath to clear his mind of his research and the annoyance of his family. Successfully tucking everything away so that he could properly play and engage with his feral little pet, he slowly turned the handle down and swept into her room. Finding the drapes still pulled shut and the bedside candle still flickering with a low burn, he quietly crossed the room to check on her.

He almost missed her small body nestled amongst the mass of pillows and the thick duvet and sheets as he came to rest against some of the forgotten pillows on the edge of the bed. She slept on her side - surprisingly facing away from the door, a sure sign that she was comfortable and at peace inside his home - while she cuddled one of the pillows to her chest with her face buried into its plush top. Reaching out he brushed back the unbraided curls that had fallen over her face. Tucking the long, untamed length behind her ear, he exposed her shoulder and the strap of her chemise that had once again fallen down her slender arm. Fingering the silk, he lifted it back into place, careful to not graze the responsive skin of her mark.

Severus was about to get up from the bed when her deep, even breaths stirred and stopped him as he waited for her to settle again. Staying perfectly still, she rustled under the blankets for a moment before unexpectedly turning over to face him. As she rolled over, he sank his teeth into his tongue, physically holding back the groan that threatened to leave him. Her right breast had slipped free when the other too loose strap had fallen down her arm, leaving the dusty pink tip of her nipple to grow taut from the cool air before his eyes. And if that didn't leave him in enough of a precarious situation, she had the audacity to exchange her cuddled pillow for his thigh, nuzzling her face against the seam of his jeans as she hummed in contentment, falling back into her deep slumber.

"What am I going to do with you, Hermione?" He quietly asked, gently and reluctantly lifting her chemise back into place over her breast. "So perfect and so problematic…"

Allowing himself to stay only a moment longer so as to not fall victim to the pull of their soul bond, he extracted himself from her hold. Removing the book from his jacket pocket and resizing it, he placed it on top of the etiquette books she had been dutifully studying at his demand. Picking up her journal of notes and quill, he penned a spikey note about the unwarded library being her reward for the day, where he would be, and his expected time of return. As a teasing post script he added a line about his receptiveness to discussing anything she wished from the book he was leaving as her second reward for having been a good girl for him the last few days. Placing it where she was sure to see it before seeing, To Sir, With Adoration, he looked at her parted mouth and couldn't help but draw his thumb across her pouting bottom lip before he left.

Slipping back into the hall before he decided to resume his spot on the edge of her bed and watch her sleep, he departed the manor and crossed through the property gates. Once the iron scrolls had resumed their protective seal upon his land, he took a sharp, tight turn on his heel and disapperated for London. Landing in the small, secluded park that sat in the center of a crossroads of townhomes, he approached the faded, royal blue door of the home he had once wished he belonged in. Twisting the tarnished handle, he pushed into the house without care and was greeted by a banshee-like wailing.

AN:So I am trying to get on a schedule, however I get twitchy fingers when it comes to posting so that' still up in the air. The aim is for posting on the first and third Monday of the month as chapters are available. Again though, I get twitchy and like to post once I'm happy with the chapter lol.