Warning: This chapter gets a little graphic and if you aren't old enough to be watching it you aren't old enough to be reading it then either so please go read something else because the last thing I need is to be accused of contributing to the delinquency of a minor I don't even know. I have my hands full with the ones I do know as it is. Thank you for your cooperation.
Never Enough Time
Ch 3 Culture Shock.
Severus prowled around the library looking for Hermione. They made plans to meet in the library before heading down to the train together. If she would just hurry up and get here. He turned the corner and there she was with her suitcase slung over her shoulder with a makeshift strap that looked terribly uncomfortable. She was tucking something on a gold chain down her shirt but he couldn't see clearly what it was. Odd though, he could've sworn he just looked here.
"There you are." He said.
She let out a small shriek and clasped her hands over her heart. "God, Sev, don't do that! Am I late?"
"No, but we'd better hurry if we want decent seats."
"Right." She fussed a moment with her suitcase before finally seeing sense and letting him carry it. Stubborn Gryffindor. They joined the laughing throng of students heading for the train. After a pair of first-year Hufflepuffs tore between them screaming with laughter she tucked her arm through his to keep from being separated again. "I think someone forgot to tell them that Hufflepuffs are supposed to be unassuming."
He discreetly steered her away from Potter, Black, and their knot of Gryffindors also making their way home for winter break. He really didn't want to get involved in an altercation with her fellow Gryffindors, not with Hermione right there watching. And with Gryffindors being Gryffindors they would probably enjoy making a public spectacle of themselves just to embarrass him in front of her.
Once inside they settled into a small compartment. Hermione gazed absently out the window and he glared at anyone who looked like they might entertain the notion of joining them. They sat together in comfortable silence. It was one of the things he really liked about Hermione, she didn't feel the need to fill silence with chatter or make it uncomfortable. Some of their best moments were sitting together in the silence. After the train had been moving for a few moments she jumped up and pulled a roll of cloth out of her robes, apparently she had been carrying them tucked under her arm. "I'm going to change, be right back."
She was out the door before he could ask. That little bundle of cloth did not look like enough to be a proper dress. Maybe she had shrunk it? That must be it. Though why she would want to change on the train was beyond him. Tying a corset looked difficult enough without trying to do so in a shifting, moving train-car. He watched the moving landscape waiting for her to return.
"Back." She said, closing the compartment door behind her.
"That was fast, did you forget some-" he started to ask but the words froze in his throat as he turned and got a good look at what she was wearing. She was not wearing a proper dress. Or robes. Or any derivative thereof. She was dressed in dark blue trousers of some coarse material that had rivets along the seam drawing his eyes along the curve of her leg. The gray…top, for lack of any better term, looked old and ragged. Someone had ripped off the hem, sleeves and collar leaving gray threads to unravel freely. When she raised her arms up to tie her hair back with a scrap of cheap lace a wide expanse of her stomach was exposed. He knew he should look away, it was the only proper thing to do. But he found himself unable to move. He couldn't shift his eyes from this new Hermione as things she had said over the past several months ran through his head dragging him forcibly to its unwanted conclusion.
"What?" She asked, noticing his stare.
"Your're…" she finished her task and lowered her arms, running her hands down her front to tug the top back into place. He was very, very glad for concealing school robes. "You're a mud-"
"Say it and you'll wish you were back at Hogwarts." She said crisply, the threat naked in her tone.
Mudblood. "Muggleborn."
"Yup, first witch in the family." She said it proudly. He forced himself to turn to look out the window, away from her bright, happy, unashamed face. But, 'Hermione' is a witch's name. A small, confused voice protested in the back of his mind as he tried to understand this new version of the girl he thought he knew.
"Why would I wish I was back at Hogwarts?"
"So the mediwitch could put you back together again." He turned to look at her face careful not to let his eyes slid down to take in the tight cut of her clothes. She has a familiar mischievous grin and a sparkle in her eyes. It was at the same time reassuring and disturbing. She was the same person that she was ten minutes ago. So what had happened?
"You know you can't cast spells outside of school." He said sternly.
"Who said anything about spells? I'd knock your lights out with my fist like I did the last pureblooded snot to insult me."
Well, she's still a Gryffindor. "What happened?"
"Not much." She shrugged "Got us both sent to the hospital wing, him with a busted nose and me with a sprained thumb. Let me tell you, I am so glad muggle parents don't have access to howlers otherwise I'd have never heard the end of it when my parents got McGonagall's letter."
"Mad at you for fighting?" He asked more because it seemed expected and he didn't know what else to do then because he really cared.
"No. Mad at me for getting hurt like that after they paid good money on self-defense class way back when." She snorted. "Like I could remember how to make a proper fist from when I was seven. I had to spend all the next summer in the dojo."
He leaned back and rubbed his eyes. This was going to be a long holiday. He asked about her family to keep her talking because he didn't want to find that the silences weren't as comfortable as they were before. Especially since he was beginning to get the distinct impression that any sense of discomfort was solely on his side of the pitch.
"Oh, my parents weren't too shocked. My dad said, and I quote 'I should've known she'd be interested in some field no one ever heard of' end quote." At his quizzical look she explained. "My family throws out more than it's fair share of geniuses and almost everyone goes into a completely new field. We're starting to run out of options. My parents are wonderful about this whole thing. Well, except for the bets on my N.E.W.T.S. results but they don't mean anything by it…I don't think."
"I'm sure you'll do well in charms and transfigurations…"
"Oh, no. I don't mean that." She laughed "They didn't bet on what classes I'd do well in. It's assumed that I'll break records in all of them. One way or the other."
"What do you mean?"
"This will take some explaining." She sighed. "Along with genuine geniuses in my family there's an icarus here and there. You know, someone who is really smart in school but leaves to live a mediocre life without using any of their potential. It's from mythology, Daedalus' son who fell into the sea after flying to high?"
"I know it."
"Anyway, My dad was one, could've been a neurosurgeon or something. That's a very specialized and very skilled muggle version of a mediwizard. But instead he marries my mum and becomes a dentist. Swears blind it was the best decision he ever made. So, you see, they are betting on when and if I will burn out. Whether I'll break the high records or the low. Yeah, overall my parents are really understanding about magic." She grinned, rather sheepishly. "And then there's always the threats…"
His eyebrows shot up surely not "Threats?"
"Oh, you know the kind. 'Her-MI-o-ne GRAN-ger'" she said in an exasperated tone. " 'If those people from that Ministry have to come down here to put this house back together again ONE more time…' of course Mum never finishes 'cause then she might have to carry through with it. But last year I thought for sure I would be grounded for life. And it wasn't even…totally…my fault. How was I supposed to know Dragon's Blood would react so violently with Hydrochloric acid? It's a base they should've balanced out."
He stared at her in shock, the idea of adding Dragon's Blood to any type of acid… "Hermione, Dragon's Blood is a power booster it increases the properties of anything you add it to. And magical properties have priority over muggle."
"Yeah, I know that now, thanks." She said sarcastically. She continued talking and smiling as happy as she had been all day. And by the time the train rolled to a stop he was almost as comfortable in her presence as he had been before she changed clothes. But whenever the conversation lulled long enough for his attention to wander to her skintight trousers he felt his own grow more than a little tight.
When they got off the train she started for the luggage but he grabbed her arm and steered her away. "Don't bother a house-elf will get it."
"House-elf?" She asked, eyes wide and clearly startled. He felt relieved that, even in this small way, he wasn't the only one surprised by the day's revelations. "You have a house-elf?"
"Elves, plural." He corrected guiding her to the awaiting carriage drawn by a pair of night black horses with green fire dripping from their eyes. "And they belong to the family."
"Goodness." She said, though that comment may have been aimed more at the Night Mares than the information about house-elves. He helped her up into the carriage, although since she wasn't wearing voluminous skirts she possibly could have managed fine on her own. She was studying the interior of the carriage with open inquisitiveness that almost made him smile. He sat down next to her and rapped sharply on the roof once they were settled. That was the signal for the Night Mares and they set off at a smooth gait that was barely noticed by the passengers.
"Never been in one of these before?" He asked not bothering to hide his amusement.
"Not like this." She said enthusiastically, as if she were delighted by everything she saw. Being a Gryffindor, she probably was, they were charmingly simple that way. "I went on a buggy ride once as a kid but that was nothing compared to this."
The ride to Snape Manor was rather long and was in Severus' long standing opinion the worst part of the trip home. In this case though the excruciating long ride was actually a god thing as it gave Hermione all the time she wanted to poke around the tiny carriage. The manor itself was exactly what one would expect of the Snape line. A large rambling building that was rather dark and foreboding. Severus hated it, thought the cursed thing should be razed to the ground. Inexplicably Hermione was delighted with the place. He showed her to her rooms, which was a harder task than one might at first assume because, in her delighted curiosity, she kept wandering off and he would have to go find her. However once introduced to the small suite she seemed content enough to confine herself there for the time being. He paused at the door and considered how to most tactfully phrase his request. "Hermione, while we are the only ones currently in the house I am accustomed to formal dinners while home. So if you could please wear an appropriate dress."
"Dress?" She looked up from where she was exploring the bookshelves stocked with light reading material for their guests. "Not a problem."
"Thank you." He almost sighed with relief. "Dinner will be in the Parlor, I find the formal dining room uncomfortable for only two people. One of the house-elves will alert you when it is ready. Afterwards I will give you a tour of the place. Until then."
"Sure, later." He closed the door and closed his eyes resting his head against the wall trying to forget the perfect line of her body as she bent over to read the titles on the lower shelves. Didn't she know he was watching? Didn't she care? He took a deep breath to calm his raging hormones. He had to go get ready for dinner as well. A cold shower and change of clothes later and he was reasonably sure he could face Hermione across the dinner table. That is, until she actually walked into the parlor.
What she was wearing could, possibly, be called a dress. However there were no corsets, petticoats, or other accessories that he was accustomed to seeing swathed around the female figure. The midnight blue dress has a deep neckline that showed a generous amount of pale shoulder as well as the soft swell of the top of her breasts. The material was pulled taunt across her stomach before flaring out to swirl around her hips where it just stopped at mid-thigh. But his eyes didn't. Her legs were long and perfect and she wasn't wearing any shoes. Her bare feet sank into the thick carpet.
"That" He said tersely "is not a dress."
Her eyebrow quirked "well, it's certainly not trousers."
"It's not appropriate your…ankles are showing." He finished lamely, her ankles weren't the only things that dress was showing. A point evidently not lost on her either as she bent over slightly to look critically at her legs. She stretched one leg out a little to the side for further examination, which only showcased the delicate turn of her ankle and gentle curve of her calf. The low neckline dipped lower flashing even more of her cleavage as she bent over. It was then that his eyes rose high enough to see the mischievous glint in hers and the small smirk on her lips. She knew. That vixen knew what she was doing to him and was doing it deliberately.
He despised being manipulated and felt a sudden rage that she would toy with him. Although, it was rather difficult to feel anything outside of his heart hammering in his chest as his blood went rushing to somewhere other than his brain. He drew the tattered remains of his dignity and his iron self-control around himself as best he could and stalked from the room. He snarled "I'll be having dinner in my rooms."
... ... ...
Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes. She had spent the last hour locked in her rooms crying. But she'd had no one to blame but herself for teasing Severus. She forced herself off of the bed and went digging around the wardrobe for her school robes. It was her fault for upsetting him and now she was going to have to go apologize. She swung the heavy black material over the blue dress and put on a pair of loose white socks and her sensible school shoes. It clashed horribly and was an offense to good taste everywhere. But if that's what it takes…
"Dilly?" She asked, summoning a house-elf. "Where is Severus?"
"Young Master is in the study Miss Hermione." Did all house-elves speak in that horrible whine, she couldn't remember Dobby or Winky being that bad.
"Thank you. Could you direct me there please." Although she had long since given up on that childish campaign to free house-elves she was never less then painfully polite. As if she could make up for any thoughtless rudeness a house-elf may or may not have suffered. Dilly showed her the way with a minimum of carrying on about how he should be punished for this imagined slight or other. For which she was grateful, as she could never seem to get the hang of dealing with house-elves in that state and only seemed to make matters worse. She was beginning to suspect that they did so on purpose in order to annoy the wizards around them. Eventually Dilly brought her to a door on what must have been the opposite end of the house from her rooms. The study door was open and she could see that Severus was seated in a massive leather armchair reading. She knocked lightly on the door watching him carefully.
"Severus?" She could see his body tense and his jaw clench but he made no movement to raise his eyes from the page. Of course he wasn't going to make this any easier for her. She squared her shoulders and walked in without an invitation. She sat down across from him and debated how to say what she wanted to. Best to keep it simple. She decided.
"I'm sorry." See, not hard at all. It would help if he would acknowledge that she had spoken. Maybe he wanted an explanation. "I noticed you watching me on the train. I honestly had no idea my clothes would get that…any…reaction from you. I always wear that on the train ride to and from Hogwarts it's my favorite sweatshirt, and it's comfortable. I…" She blushed. "I liked knowing you were watching. And I only meant to tease you a little at dinner. I'm sorry, I didn't think…"
He snorted, "That's the Gryffindor motto 'I'm sorry, I didn't think.'"
She could feel her flush of embarrassment spreading. But at least he was talking to her now. She forged on ahead. "I didn't think that it would upset you that much. The school skirt is just as short."
He sighed and closed the book. "For one thing, the school skirts are a uniform. Girls have to wear them so a gentleman just grows accustomed to not looking. Secondly, the school robes tend to cover a multitude of sins, as I see you've noticed."
"Well, I don't exactly have any other robes, just my school stuff and the muggle clothes for weekends."
He shook his head. "I can't believe you actually wear that stuff in public."
"You are a prude." She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I wear my clothes in public, that is rather the point of clothing you know. But it's not like anyone is ever looking at me anyways."
"I was looking." He said softly.
"I know." She said matching his tone and looking up at him. The silence hung heavy between them and grew too intense. She had to look away. Her eyes wandered across the walls and shelves to finally land on a picture of a couple, the woman was very young, 16 at most, and dressed in a wedding gown there was an older gentleman, obviously a Snape, with salt-and-pepper hair. She could see the wind move through the trees in the background but the couple stood very still and solemn in the foreground. "Who's this?"
"My parents." She felt as if a weight was lifted off of her when he shifted his gaze to look at the picture. "That was taken on their wedding day."
"No kidding?" I thought he was her dad or something."
Severus gave her an odd look. "Why would you think that?"
"Well he's obviously so much older than she is."
"Only about twenty-five years or so." He shrugged. "That's pretty average. It usually takes a wizard twenty to thirty years to settle enough for marriage and a family. Witches don't often want to wait that long, even those with their own careers."
Hermione stared at him not sure weather to believe him or not. "It's true I can pull out the Ministry's census reports if you want."
"That's okay I believe you." She said. "Just trying to get used to the idea of such disparate ages to be normal."
"Oh, that's nothing." He snorted. "Dumbledore and Mcgonagall have a nearly fifty year age difference between them and they've been together forever. From way back when he taught Divination and she was still a student. The only reason they're not married now is because she's barren, they can't."
"Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster?" She asked, lagging a bit behind his exposition.
"And my Aunt Sylvia has almost-" He continued enjoying the shocked expression on her face."
"No, wait, stop." She protested. "I'm still trying to cope with the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall as a couple. That's like, as a kid, first realizing your parents, no your grandparents, had sex."
"Are having." He corrected.
"What?"
"Are having, they are still together." He grinned. "And you accuse me of being prudish."
"That was another matter entirely. This is perfectly justifiable, I mean 'Ewww.'" She covered her face with her hands briefly before peeking through her fingers. "Wait a minute if she was a student and he was a teacher…isn't that a little illegal?"
"No. Not as long as there is no favoritism shown they should be fine." He said making it sound like it should be obvious.
"And sleeping with a student is not favoritism in what way?"
"You really don't know anything about wizarding laws do you?"
"Apparently not as much as I thought I did. And it's not like Hogwarts really offers a 'Orientation and Naturalization to the Wizarding World' do they?"
"Hm, point. What I mean is the legal term 'favoritism' which is the using of one's authority to grant benefits or favors to someone beneath them in return for sex." He said. "Like a teacher give a student grades she doesn't deserve because she's sleeping with him. And Merlin help the man if it's found out that the girl is mentally incompetent and cannot say 'no' to an authority figure, the Ministry will have his head on a silver platter."
"So, just tell the girl not to say anything like the muggle pedophile's do and the teacher gets off scott free."
"First of all, how is sleeping with a sixteen-year old, mature young lady pedophilia. I don't see how someone suddenly is competent and mature one day where they weren't the day before just because a certain day marks them one year older." He held up a hand, silencing her protest. "Don't bother explaining, that's a secondary issue anyways. Primary issue, second point, do you have any idea how difficult it is to keep a secret at Hogwarts? Teacher snogs a student and I bet you everyone knows before the day is out. That's why it doesn't happen often, the relationship is scrutinized by everyone and it's just too stressful."
"Oh," She said, trying to incorporate all the new information but not quite able to get over her initial gut reaction. "It still seems…wrong somehow."
"Does it matter?" He shrugged "Not thinking of shagging one of the professors when we get back are you?"
You have no idea…She blushed, and tried to make light of the question. "Now really, who would I sleep with? Binns is dead, Dumbledore is apparently taken, and Flitwick…I don't want to think about Flitwick."
"How about Professor Illium? Is he your type?" Since she didn't recognize the name she shook her head. "So what is your type?"
"Hmmm," She thought for a bit before answering flirtatiously. "Dark-haired seekers."
He didn't miss a beat. "Hooch? Really? You didn't strike me as into girls."
"Severus!" She blushed to her ears.
"Okay, so she's going a little gray…"
"Severus!" He laughed.
"You set yourself up for that one Hermione."
"Oh, belt up." She crossed her arms and tried to stop blushing. "So when are you going to show me around?"
As winter break progressed they had fewer and fewer uncomfortable moments. The lycanthrope project helped a lot in that regard giving them both familiar ground to start from. She knew every thing going to be alright when she came out of the bath one evening to find Dilly laying her blue dress out for dinner, and the black school robes she had been wearing over her muggle clothes missing from the wardrobe apparently being 'cleaned.' She grinned as she pulled the dress over her head and practically danced on the way to the parlor.
Severus was already there, as usual, he stood next to the table. It was lit softly with only a couple of candles in the centerpiece. His dark eyes glittered as he helped her to sit down. She put as much grace and elegance into her movements as possible, silently thanking her mother for forcing her to go to those hated deportment classes. Dinner went by quickly in a blur of soft conversation and flickering shadows. At the end of the meal they stood and Severus said, "I have one last thing for you this evening before we retire, if you are so inclined."
"What is it?"
"It's on the sideboard there." He waved his hand to indicate behind her. She turned around to see a single candle lit. It illuminated a small stoppered vial on a silver tray. She picked it up and examined the dark liquid.
"What is it?" She asked. She could feel him standing at her back, his breath was warm on her neck.
"A contraception potion." He murmured softly kissing her shoulder, his arms wrapped around her, one sliding under the neckline to cup her breast the other slid gently down her stomach to brush her thighs before moving back up in long, smooth strokes. She gently pried the stopper off and swallowed the potion. She set the empty vial back on the tray and tried to turn around in his embrace but Severus' arms tightened around her holding her still.
"Patience." He said, pressing his mouth against the base of her neck. She relaxed against him letting his hands explore her body freely. She could feel him growing hard and pressing against her but he refused to rush. After what seemed like an eternity of soft touches he pulled away and she almost cried out at the loss. She turned and reached out one hand to…what?…stop him, pull him close, she wasn't sure. He caught her hand and bowed low to press his lips gently against her palm. He smiled at her shiver of pleasure from the courtly yet intensely intimate gesture. He straightened but kept her one hand clasped in his own. His other came up to wrap around her shoulders as he guided her out of the room. "This way, my lady."
He led her to his own suite of rooms. The bedroom was dark, illuminated only by the ruddy glow of the banked embers in the fireplace. It was then that her patience gave out and she pulled him into a fierce, scorching kiss. He held her tight against his body briefly before guiding her to the bed. She fumbled with the multitude of tiny buttons on his robes. She had to break off the kiss in order to squint at them and he chuckled at her frustrated snarl.
"Patience." He said, batting her fingers away and pushing her down onto the bed.
"Will you stop saying that?" She protested. "I'm tired of being patient."
"You are such a Gryffindor." He cut off any further comment with a deep kiss and roaming hands that commanded all of her attention. They explored each other's bodies with gentle touches and soft kisses as cloth gradually gave way to bare skin. By the time he settled himself above her she was filled with such an aching need that she sobbed when he hesitated "Please." Then he was gently moving inside of her and here was no more room for thought or breath for words.
... ... ...
When morning came Hermione was reluctant to open her eyes. There was a pleasant ache between her legs, and Severus was a line of warmth at her back as his long body curved around hers. One arm pillowed her head as it wrapped around to knead her breast. The other was somewhat…lower, his long fingers gently combing through the curls between her legs. She sighed happily.
"Content?" He asked, softly she could feel his voice rumbling against her back and his breath in her ear. She voiced her answer with a soft purr. He chuckled and pulled her closer, she could feel his length aroused and pressing into the small of her back. She rolled over and gave him a deep kiss before pulling back to look at her lover in the bright morning light. His baby-fine black hair was tousled and matted. His dark eyes glittered with the small smile that tugged on the corners of his lips. He reached out with his left hand to brush the hair back from her face. Her eyes widened in startled fear and she involuntarily flinched back. "Hermione? What's wrong?"
He reached for her but she pulled back from the shadow on his arm. It was fresh and livid, darkness branded into flesh. The Dark Mark lay bared on his arm.
... ... ...
AN: I really enjoyed writing this chapter, I think it's fun playing around with cultural norms and mores through fiction, and exploring preconceptions, misconceptions and prejudice is always a blast. Well, for me it is anyway. I hope everyone at least found it interesting enough to get them through to the sex at the end. * grin *
