*Chapter 9*: The Snape Estate
When Hermione woke up, pain lanced through her head.
"Ow," she whimpered.
Crookshanks rose and leaped to the floor. When he poked his head through the bed curtains to enter her room, a splinter of daylight broke through and lay across Hermione's eyes.
"Merlin's beard!" Hermione groaned.
"Good morning," a low, sarcastic voice rumbled. She moaned in reply and prayed he didn't look in on her and find her in such a state.
Severus pulled back her curtain and shook his head as she pulled her pillow over her face.
"You can't drink this buried under there," he said, gesturing to the goblet he carried in one hand.
"I could conjure a long straw," her muffled voice drifted to him.
"I have doubts about you conjuring anything," said Severus in a grim tone.
Hermione ventured her fuzzy head out of her bedding. "I feel like hell."
"Stay away from alcohol," said Severus, handing her a potion. "We leave this afternoon."
"So quickly?" Hermione said, taken by surprise.
"We are carrying on under the façade of a honeymoon," Severus said. He sounded embarrassed. "I'm expected to appear eager."
"Shouldn't I appear eager as well?" Hermione asked.
"I'm not certain you should appear enthusiastic," Severus swallowed as she pushed off her covers. "Some might find it open to question."
"Not after they talk to Lucius Malfoy," Hermione snorted as she hung her feet over the side of her bed and hopped onto cold stone.
"That's true," said Severus thoughtfully. "Nevertheless, best not overdo it."
She went across her room in a sleeveless white cotton shift. The daylight filtered through it as she moved by the window.
'Gods, when did I become so old?' Severus asked himself.
"How long will we be gone?" Hermione asked, looking at herself in a Muggle mirror and making a face.
"Most of the summer," said Severus.
"I see," said Hermione, stepping over to a bookshelf. Severus knew she was trying to look like she was considering the novels in front of her. He realized she was disappointed to be leaving so soon.
"I'm sorry," said Severus. "This is a large responsibility."
"I believe you'd been through more at my age," replied Hermione hoarsely.
"Some people could travel through numerous lifetimes to go through as much as I have," snorted Severus. "I would never hold it as an object lesson of good decision making."
"I suppose not," she answered turning around to him wiping a few tears away.
It was the spring sun. It was the look of her unruly hair in the morning. It was that terrible old-fashioned nightgown. It was the tears rolling down her cheeks, breaking the front she had been maintaining for years.
He hugged her awkwardly.
Hermione needed it, and was shocked he was offering, albeit mostly arms and elbows, but she was grateful. He smelled like sandalwood and soap. His black high buttoned vest was soft under her cheek.
Severus indulged himself by breathing in the smell of her hair. He caressed the smooth skin of her shoulders under his fingers. He watched as a loose curl winded its way straight up to ultimately settle on the end of his nose.
There was nothing improper with an innocent hug, Severus reasoned with himself. He caused her suffering and was encouraging her. She was no longer his pupil and technically his partner, a hug was within logic. Encouraged, even.
She relaxed in his arms and a part of him below the belt formed an opinion of its own. He stepped back and swept his cloak around himself. "I apologize for the suddenness of this, but it would be optimal if you were prepared by three o'clock."
Hermione let out the breath she had been holding. A few moments were all the human contact he could stand, she knew. Hermione tried not to be bothered and pulled herself together. "I can be prepared earlier if required."
"How soon?" Severus asked.
Hermione glanced at the clock on her wall. "Noon."
"Noon then."
"Good," replied Hermione.
Severus spun and walked out of her rooms. The door shrunk behind him.
Hermione breathed in the smell of sandalwood. He must have just put it on because the scent lingered on her nightdress. She held up the white cotton and breathed in. Her body responded. She breathed in deeper and had the impulse to lie down. Perhaps the influences of the alcohol hadn't worn off.
He'd never notice if she was a few additional minutes.
0
'That was wrong,' Severus chided himself as he opened his trousers in his rooms. 'Shouldn't have let it go that far.'
He lay on his bed and slid his palm over his under things. He wrapped his hand around himself.
In his fantasy Hermione had pulled her nightgown over her head and disposed of it. She then pointed a wand at him and rendered him in an identical state. Then she had led him to the bed and let him pound her senseless.
Severus gasped. He his body writhed in pleasure as he squeezed his eyes shut.
When he finished he lay, trembling on the bed.
He was overjoyed the Russian estate was big. They would both be busy and he'd be able to shake her out of his head.
Severus opened the door from his private chambers to see Hermione waiting for him in the drawing room. Her trunk lay at her feet and Crookshanks lay resting in a cage stacked on top of it.
Severus dragged his trunk out of his bedroom and went on to the fireplace.
"We need to use Floo powder to get to the Portkey Station," Severus said.
"All right," answered Hermione as she got to feet. She had never heard of a Portkey Station before, but she had never traveled internationally using wizarding means before.
"Don't forget to keep a diary," Helga said from the wall. "I want to hear all about it. And don't forget to take pictures."
"We won't," Hermione promised. "And Professor Dumbledore said he will have you brought to his office while we're gone. You can catch up with the other Headmasters and not be so lonely."
"Wonderful," answered Helga smiling silkily. "I'll have a word with Lyons."
"Portkey Station," Severus said throwing dust into the fireplace and being eternally grateful he wouldn't be in Hogwarts for The Great Portrait War of 98'. Green fire leapt up and Severus and Hermione dragged their trunks into them.
0
"Welcome, my darlings," a sing song voice called out as Hermione and Severus arrived at his family estate. They were in a large ballroom with an enormous dance floor that rippled like water when it was walked on.
Hermione saw a young, dark-haired witch striding towards her and Severus. She first assumed Severus had a younger sister, but was soon surprised.
"Hello, Mother," said Severus wearily. He kissed her cheek as she embraced him. Hermione stared. "What a surprise to see you here."
"You do not need to sound so excited," said Anastasia Snape with a frown.
"They gave us the wrong portkey in Stockholm and we ended up somewhere in the Congo." Hermione offered.
"You poor dears," Anastasia said with a laugh. "I bet it was exciting!"
"It was!" Hermione reassured her happily. The snacks in the Congo had been excellent.
Anastasia waved her wand and the dust and grime from travelling pulled away from them and disappeared. "We were wondering why you were taking so long."
"Thank you," said Hermione, feeling less grimy. "I'm pleased to meet you, Madam Snape." She bobbed.
"Call me either Mother or Anastasia," Severus' mother smiled.
"I tried to control her," a deep voice floated in from a set of large double doors. Jacob Snape reclined in the doorframe. "But she insisted on coming right away."
"I'm sure you did your best," Severus sighed. He waved his wand at their trunks and they vanished. So, did Crookshanks' cage, although he remained. He meowed and stretched.
"Hello, little kitty," Anastasia said as he padded over to sniff her. To Hermione's surprise he flopped at Anastasias feet and rolled on her dress hem purring happily.
"He's usually not so rude," Hermione said furrowing her eyebrows at him.
"I was in the herb garden this afternoon and got into the catnip," Anastasia admitted.
"His name is Crookshanks."
"Hello, Crookshanks," said Anastasia scratching him behind his ears. Crookshanks meowed his adoration and twisted over on his back. "Oh, he's adorable!"
"Father, we're starving. I'd like to visit the kitchens." Severus sounded exhausted.
"The dining room has been readied," Anastasia said, beaming.
"Mother, there was no reason to go to all that trouble," Severus said embarrassedly.
Hermione wondered how fancy the dining room was. It didn't take her long to find out.
A twenty foot 17th century dining table stretched the length of the room. Four chairs were set up at the same end of the table. A turkey lay steaming, kept warm by a preservation spell. Stuffed mushrooms decorated the plate around it and each plate had a bowl of spinach and beet salad. Fresh bread lay cooling on wooden trenchers nearby.
"This is incredible!" Hermione said stunned. The walls were made of live trees growing close together. Their branches stretched out above them, shading the table from the illusion of a full moon overhead. "Thank you for your hospitality."
"At least one of you remembered your manners," Anastasia said, looking annoyed at her son. "We're just happy to see Severus settling down."
Severus pulled a chair out for Hermione and sat next to her.
"Bless the food, Severus," Anastasia smiled at him.
Hermione folded her hands as Severus bowed his head and chanted a prayer.
Severus helped Hermione dress her plate while Jacob carved the turkey. The floor was carpeted with thick grass, and she slipped off her shoes and buried her toes in it.
"This is wonderful," said Hermione sampling the food.
"We're glad you like it," said Jacob. He turned to his son. "Will you be staying all season?"
"I was planning on it," said Severus.
"You should come visit us in France for a while," insisted Anastasia. "Have you ever been?"
"Yes," said Hermione. "It's why Severus chose Russia. I had never been here before."
"There are so many things to see," said Anastasia. "No doubt you'll be busy all season."
"No doubt," Hermione said smiling at her mother-in-law.
0
Hermione looked at Severus across the large expanse of bed, her arms crossed. A blue robe was securely belted around her waist and her white nightgown poked out from behind it.
"I didn't know they would stay the night," Severus mumbled.
"You couldn't possibly think they'd be making off for the Portkey Station after what we went through," Hermione said crossly. "They could end up on the moon. I still don't see why you should sleep on the floor. There's enough room up here."
"What if I snore?" he asked her.
"I've seen you sleep and I've never heard you snore."
"Fine," Severus said glaring at her. "But if I snore, you are to kick me to the floor."
"I'll have no trouble doing that," Hermione snorted.
"I'm taking a proper bath," Severus announced.
"Fine," Hermione said. "I'll be in bed by the time you're out."
His body reacted to her words.
'She wasn't talking to you,' he thought angrily.
After his bath Severus walked back into his bedchamber, his hair still wet. He had satisfied himself twice before he got out. He was taking no chances with his nocturnal revelations.
There was a candle burning by the bed and he saw Crookshanks, his light red fur standing out on the dark coverlet. On the side he planned to rest on. At this point he had become used to the idea of going to bed on a soft mattress.
"Shoo, kitty," Severus whispered as he took his robe off. Crookshanks got up and put himself firmly in the center of the bed.
Then he fixed Severus with a glare that made Severus' cheeks hot.
"I'm not that bad," Severus whispered, glancing at the mass of hair poking out of the covers on the side opposite to him.
Crookshanks purred and shut his eyes. Severus shook his head and got in the bed with the cat between him and his wife. The feline knew what was for the best.