For the Potions Master's Amusement
Chapter 76: Perseverance
Hermione was a bit taken aback by Elinore's manner. 'Good evening, Elinore,' she said, stepping forward and offering her hand. 'I'm sorry for coming by with no notice, but I was hoping to catch Professor Snape at home.'
Elinore's dark eyes narrowed slightly at this, and although she took Hermione's hand briefly, she released it almost immediately. 'Ladies,' she said to the two submissives on the sofa, 'this is Hermione Granger. She used to live here at Roissy House with us.'
Hermione turned to greet the young women and was fully aware of how speculatively they surveyed her, sitting there in their party dresses, undoubtedly bare-arsed beneath their skirts, looking askance at her blue jeans and trainers. Oh shite, why did it seem that she never dressed properly for her visits to Professor Snape?
'This is Chassity,' Elinore said, nodding to the blond, then indicating the brunette, 'and Ava.'
The submissives murmured greetings, although they did not offer their hands, and it seemed to Hermione as if they studied her very closely. She forced herself not to smooth her unruly hair, knowing it would be a fruitless task, and briefly regretting her lack of make-up, she turned back determinedly to Elinore.
'I don't want to interrupt your evening,' she said, trying to sound off-hand, rather than desperate. 'Would it be all right for me to go up to see Professor Snape?'
Elinore's expression became, if possible, frostier than before. 'Is he expecting you?' she asked pointedly.
Hermione was tempted to lie. Why was Elinore trying to keep her from Severus? Was it possible she knew what had happened at Odd Cottage? Was Elinore angry because Hermione had not knuckled under, like a good subbie?
More like because you took what you wanted and left him again, her inner critic informed her viciously. It's no more than what you deserve!
But she was acutely conscious of those older, prettier girls watching her, and she could just imagine how they exulted inside to see her turned away—weren't they there, after all, in the hopes of catching the attention of the sexiest single Dominant in all of the wizarding London D/s scene? Determination to foil their hopes caused her back to straighten, and she opened her mouth to lie.
'Hermione!'
The words died on her lips, and she turned to the doorway as Hadrian strode across the room, his hands outstretched, his blue eyes warm with welcome.
'Hadrian—hello,' she said, advancing to meet him.
He took her hands and bent to kiss her cheek, then straightened to look searchingly into her eyes. 'You're here for Severus?' he asked quietly.
'He's not expecting her,' Elinore said stridently.
Hadrian silenced his wife with one look, although disapproval continued to radiate from her.
Hermione nodded once in answer to Hadrian's question.
'Are you seriously ready to talk to him?' Hadrian asked, his voice pitched for her ears alone.
Hermione nodded again. 'Will he … will he see me?' she asked.
Hadrian's expression didn't change. 'I don't know,' he said. 'But go up to him. The only way to find out is to ask.'
Hermione squeezed Hadrian's hands. 'Thank you,' she mouthed.
'Good luck,' Hadrian responded, and Hermione hurried from the room.
Hermione stared at the closed door of the room in which she had spent three months of the happiest as well as the most frightening times of her life. He was in there—she could all but feel his presence, pulling her resisting self to him as surely as if he were a magnet and she were a sentient metal filing—and all she had to do was knock on the door to find out if he would deign to speak with her.
Stepping forward, past her fear and uncertainty, she rapped on the wood panel. Would he call out for her to enter, or would he open the …
The door opened, and he filled the doorway, tall and intimidating in his school robes. He had not changed from his teaching raiment, and indeed, she knew it had been scarcely four hours since classes had been dismissed for the Easter hols. He appeared thinner, but otherwise, much as he had done in October. His black hair hung in oily curtains to his shoulders, and there was a shadow of beard on his jaw line, but for all his unkempt appearance, the sight of him made her heart sing. She felt the irrepressible smile of greeting as it curved on her lips, and she read his responses in his black eyes—first shock, then disbelief, and finally, a firming of resolve—for his chin came up, and his lips thinned.
'What do you want?'
The words snapped out like a whiplash, but Hermione responded by widening her stance, as if to weather a blow. 'I've come to speak with you,' she answered, wishing her voice sounded a bit stronger.
The hands fisted at his sides rose and were hidden as he crossed his arms over his chest. 'About what?'
Hermione took a deep breath and released it slowly, doing what she could to diffuse the feelings of panic rising in her. You knew he would be resistant, she reminded herself firmly. He doesn't trust you—and why should he?
'About you and me,' she answered and braced herself for the likely derision to come.
The flare of his substantial nostrils was the only reaction she could detect in him. 'I was not aware that there was a "you and me" to be discussed,' he said flatly, maintaining his physical blockade of the doorway.
Hermione glanced nervously toward the stairwell, imagining the two submissives from the sitting room standing just out of sight, hearing this conversation and being highly amused at her expense. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, and his eyes sharpened, his brows drawing together.
'Please, sir,' she said, 'couldn't we talk somewhere other than the middle of the hallway?'
There was a moment when her fate hung in the balance, when he might have put a full stop to her hopes by sending her away, but that moment passed as he stepped to one side. Hermione didn't hesitate to barge into the bedroom, getting a heady whiff of his aftershave as she brushed past him. She stopped and turned to him as he closed the door.
'Sit,' he said, gesturing at the furniture before the hearth.
Hermione chose the loveseat, wondering if he would sit beside her, as he had done at Odd Cottage, but he simply moved to stand before the fire. So, he would tower over her as she spoke—but who was she to object to him taking what advantage he could in this situation? She had burst in on him unexpectedly, had she not?
'Thank you,' she said simply.
His arms crossed again. 'Say what you want to say,' he replied tersely.
Hermione sat straighter, praying to find the right words. This was her chance. How could she have walked into the serpent's lair without a rehearsed speech? But she had existed on little save nerve and want for the last month, working up the courage to do this; she had been unable to concentrate well enough or long enough to prepare what she wanted to say.
'I'm ready to talk about what happened with us,' she said.
His expression did not change. 'What makes you think I am interested in such a conversation?'
Hermione was taken aback. This was not the way the conversation was meant to progress. Surely he wouldn't have let her in if he wasn't willing to talk to her! Surely his mentor would not have sent her upstairs …
'But Hadrian let me come up!' she blurted.
'Hadrian does not speak for me,' he replied.
Hermione shifted position on the chair. This wasn't going well. 'At Odd Cottage, you wanted to talk about it, and I wouldn't cooperate,' she pointed out.
He shrugged. 'That was then, and this is now.'
She was on her feet before she knew what she was about. 'I want you!'
He shook his head. 'You want what I give you,' he told her. 'Do not confuse that with something more … personal.'
Hermione stomped her foot in frustration. 'Don't talk to me as if I'm stupid!' she cried. 'I know the difference! I don't want just what you give me—if that were all, I could find another Dominant, couldn't I? But I don't want some other Dominant. I want you!'
She ended her outburst standing right before him, her fists wrapped in his robes, but he remained unmoving, his expression unchanged, as if neither her words nor her actions had any impact upon him.
'Was there anything else?' he asked evenly.
Hermione felt frustration—desperation—rising in her, a physical sensation much like drowning. She opened her mouth to pull in a great draught of air, refusing to relinquish her hold on him.
'I'll take a submissive mentor,' she babbled. 'I'll go to counselling with you. I'll negotiate a contract. I'll talk to you about what I think and how I feel, instead of just jumping to conclusions. I won't expect you to be perfect, I promise you. I know I can do this! Please!'
Still, he remained unmoving, as if he were made of marble, rather than flesh and blood. 'You are undoubtedly rusty, but you had a solid beginning to your training,' he said with great detachment, as if it were not he who had spanked and whipped and clamped and fucked her for months. 'I'm sure that either Hadrian or Claudius would be willing to help place you with a training Dominant.'
Rage flashed through her, and she lashed out at him. 'Training!' she spat. 'Yes, you have training scheduled for tonight, don't you? I'm sure I interrupted your preparations for your sessions!'
He did not respond to this, but continued to look into her face, seemingly impassive.
Hermione wanted to scream her frustration into his face, but instead, she played her most desperate card. 'So, if you're doing sessions for submissives, why can't you session me? I want a session with you!'
Abruptly, he turned from her, breaking her hold on his robes. He crossed the room to the small mahogany desk, and he took up from it a document that was several pages long. 'Certainly,' he said smoothly, thrusting the document into her hands. 'Complete this play contract and have your training Dominant contact me to schedule a session.'
Hermione, struck speechless with the brutality of this statement, stared at the checklist in her hands.
A. Orientation
Your Sexual Orientation is:
Het
Bi
Gay
Your D/s orientation is:
Dom
Sub
Switch
B. Sexual Activities
Anal Penetration: Yes / No / Your Rating
Anal Fisting: Yes / No / Your Rating
Anilingus: Yes / No / Your Rating
Cock Worship: Yes / No / Your Rating
Cunnilingus: Yes / No / Your Rating
Cybersex: Yes / No / Your Rating
She stopped reading halfway down the first page and looked up at him. 'What is cybersex?'
He shrugged. 'Something Muggles do with their computers, apparently,' he responded repressively.
'But you know all of this about me,' she said, pushing the contract back towards him.
'No,' he said quietly, and for the first time, she saw a flicker of emotion in his eyes—was it regret? 'No, I obviously did not know all of this about you.'
She closed her eyes and made a conscious effort to calm down. Her only hope was to win through with reason; raw emotion was not going to get her what she wanted.
'Severus,' she said softly, and she opened her eyes again to find his gaze riveted upon her face. 'I know I've hurt you. I expected too much. Then, I thought the worst of you and judged your actions without allowing you to explain yourself. I am sorry, but I know those are just words. The only way I can bring you to trust me again is to show you that I mean what I say. The only way I can prove my love to you—can prove my true submission—is to live it before you, day after day.' She felt her throat closing, a lump rising there, and she impatiently dashed one lone tear from her cheek. 'Please don't send me away.'
There was a knock at the door, and he walked right past her, without a word, to open it.
Pitty the house-elf stood at the door, anxiously twisting her royal blue tea towel in her bony fingers. 'It's nine o'clock, Master Severus,' the little elf squeaked.
The carriage clock on the mantle began to softly chime the hour.
'That will be all, Pitty,' the professor said, and the house-elf disappeared.
Hermione walked towards him, the play contract clutched in her hand.
'I have an appointment elsewhere,' he informed her, his gaze seeming to fix on a point over her shoulder. 'Please close the door behind you when you leave.' And with faultless, almost courtly courtesy, he inclined his head for a moment, his oily hair swinging forward to hide his face, before the door clicked quietly closed behind him.
And Hermione stood for a moment with her head down, staring at the floor, her brow furrowed. In her other life, before she had broken her own heart, she would have accepted this snub as final—as an ending. But she had put herself through fire and come out clarified: she knew now that 'goodbye' was but a hurdle to overcome, not a foregone conclusion.
What she needed was a plan. Hadn't t been forced to show Rafe the things he had been too stubborn to allow her to say? Well, so could Hermione show Severus Snape a thing or two, if he were going to brush off her words like dust from his shoes.
A decision made, she tucked the folded play contract into the back pocket of her jeans and left the room, careful to close the door behind her. But instead of going downstairs, she headed up to the next floor, where the family residences were located. It was time to implement the first step of her new life.
A/N: A link to the checklist Severus gave Hermione can be found at the Live Journal community for discussion of this story:
community dot livejournal dot com front slash ftpma underscore dishing
