For the Potions Master's Amusement
Chapter 81: Dancing
The rest of that day passed in a pleasurable haze, with frequent mind-wandering excursions into the memory of her adventure in the lift. By the time she left work, watching avidly for the professor—what was he doing spending so much time at the Ministry, anyway?—she was already worrying away at when she would see him again and how that meeting would go. Did his actions mean that he was interested in her again? That he wanted her … for his own? The he would be present at her debut?
She made a full account of the encounter in her journal that night for Master Claudius' perusal, and wrote a separate account to Vi, her submissive mentor, sending that letter by owl. She vowed to herself that she would check everything that happened between her and Severus Snape with her mentor this time around, until Vi herself said it was no longer necessary.
Please, Circe—let there be a next time! she prayed.
The next morning, she was on high alert as she entered the Ministry Atrium. But try as she might, roaming the corridors and sitting in the tearoom long past her allotted lunch time, she did not catch sight of him that day. That evening, reading Vi's response, she smiled at her friend's excitement on her behalf to have enjoyed such an unexpected encounter, but as she tried to sleep, her inner demons rose up. What if he had some other reason for accosting her in the lift—some reason not related to his desire to be with her again? Sleep eluded her as she tossed and turned, and at last, she climbed out of bed and assumed the submissive's pose, using the skills she had been taught to calm and soothe her mind.
At last, she slept.
Thursday passed much as Wednesday had done, with no sight of her quarry. Leaving for home after work that day, she saw a lone, dark figure standing in the middle of the concourse of the Ministry Atrium, the tide of exiting workers breaking around him like the waves crashing past a rock jutting from the ocean depths. Hermione's pulse quickened as did her step, and she walked toward him with rising excitement. Now she could see the monochromatic clothing, now she could discern the austere countenance—now, the piercing black eyes. Using all her self-discipline to prevent herself from running, she hurried forward, seeing the way his hooded eyes swept insolently down her body, as if he were seeing her naked … in chains. Her mouth was inexplicably dry, and now she was within hailing distance—but he, ever perplexing, turned on his heel and slipped into the Floo, cutting ahead of the waiting queue and disappearing in a blaze of bright green flames.
'Can you believe the nerve of that bloke?' one young man said angrily. 'Thinks he's too good to queue up with the rest of us?'
'Didn't you recognise him?' his companion said, a podgy witch with a worshipful look on her face. 'That was Professor Severus Snape!'
'Oh,' the young man said, unconsciously straightening his robes. 'That explains it, then.'
Hermione could only agree.
Friday afternoon, it was sheer relief to curl up next to Vi and Marcus on the sofa in the sitting room and pour out her heart.
'But what does it mean?' she whinged, worrying at her lower lip.
Vi smiled at her. 'You know him far better than I,' she chided gently. 'What do you think it means?'
Hermione sighed. 'If he weren't interested in me, why would he bother doing all he's done? If he just … just wanted to be friends, he wouldn't have played with me in the lift, right?'
Vi leaned over, placing baby Marcus in Hermione's arms, then stood. 'It seems highly unlikely that he would pay you so much attention if he weren't interested in you,' she said. 'I know it's hard to wait, but if you will only be patient, I'm sure you'll know more tonight. Now, I'm going to take my shower, and then it will be your turn.'
'But what if he isn't here tonight?' Hermione said softly to the sleeping baby, watching his lips twitch as he dreamed of his mama.
'What if who isn't here tonight?' Master Claudius inquired, strolling into the room. He had been out when Hermione had first arrived, and he had entered so quietly she had not heard him. 'No, don't get up—I like seeing you there, cradling my son against your breast.'
Hermione flushed, feeling as if the words had been somehow quite intimate, but her Training Dominant smiled at her without a trace of guile.
'Hello, sir,' Hermione said quietly. 'Do you know if Professor Snape will be in attendance this weekend?'
Claudius seated himself beside her, leaving a comfortable distance between them. 'I have not been taken into his confidence regarding his plans,' he said. 'Master Severus has been somewhat less communicative with me, of late.'
Hermione frowned, though an irrational flame of hope leapt in her. 'Why would that be?' she asked.
Claudius only shook his head. 'It would be fruitless for us to speculate,' he said, and Hermione knew it would certainly be fruitless for her to persist. 'Do you have any questions for me, going into your debut weekend, before I give you your instructions?'
'Will there be rules for me tonight?' she asked curiously.
Claudius rested an arm along the sofa behind her and turned a bit to face her. 'No orgasms for you until after your presentation tomorrow night—this instruction includes Master Severus, should he be in attendance tonight. You may dance with whomever you will, but you are not to engage in any play or sexual activity.'
Hermione considered this. 'Does that include kissing?'
Claudius cocked his head a bit to the side. 'What an interesting question,' he said, contemplating. 'No, I don't think it does include kissing. You may accept kisses, but nothing beyond that. No sexual touching.'
The baby stirred, turning his face against Hermione's chest and nuzzling about, searching for a nipple. She shifted him upward, so that his cheek lay against her shoulder, and she gently rocked him until he settled down again, just as she had seen Vi do with him.
'Would you like to have a baby, Hermione?' Claudius murmured.
She looked directly into the intent, questioning grey eyes. 'One day, perhaps,' she said. 'Not at this point in my life, though. I'm not nearly ready to think about being a mother.'
Claudius nodded his head and reached for Marcus. 'Let me take him,' he said. 'You'll want to be preparing for tonight, I suspect.'
And surrendering the sleeping baby to his father's arms, she slipped away to do just that.
She was as anxious as if she were about to go on stage to perform in a play.
She stood in the room allotted for her in the Claudius home, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. She was dressed and made-up for the dinner and dancing party, but she felt unaccountably nervous. She wore the daring red satin dress Severus had bought for her the year before at Valentine's Day, its deep vee décolletage plunging to the waist of the frock, the edges of the neckline held together by the gossamer filaments of fine silver chains. Beneath the dress, she was bare, save for the stay-up stockings she wore. She had permission to wear her hair down, and she had taken care to smooth its unruliness with Sleekeazy directly from the shower, patiently coaxing corkscrew curls to form. She knew she looked good, and if she had not been thinking about the likely whereabouts of Severus Snape, she would undoubtedly have been a happy girl now.
'Come along, petite.'
Hermione turned from the mirror and obediently followed Claudius to the sitting room, where Vi awaited them, resplendent in a pale grey sheathe.
'You're beautiful,' Vi said, coming forward to press her cheek briefly to Hermione's, careful not to smudge her make-up.
'So are you,' Hermione said honestly.
'We have a little gift for you, to celebrate the end of your training,' Claudius said, removing a square black leather box from the pocket of his Muggle suit coat. 'Since you will be naked tomorrow night, I wanted you to have it to wear tonight.'
Batting away the thought of naked tomorrow night, Hermione accepted the jeweller's box and snapped open the lid. Sparkling against the white satin interior there nestled a silver bangle bracelet inlaid with bright red rubies. It was beautiful, and Hermione couldn't suppress the gasp of awe when she saw it, but there was also a part of her that desperately hoped they weren't real rubies.
'It's too much,' she protested weakly as Claudius removed the bracelet from its box and took her hand to fit the bangle about her wrist.
'Nonsense,' he said gruffly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
'Let's go,' Vi said, taking Hermione's hand in her own, and when she did, Hermione could not help remarking that Vi wore an identical bracelet, inlaid with what appeared to be diamonds.
Kell and t swarmed Hermione when they saw her in the downstairs entry hall, where many guests milled about, chatting.
'Have you seen him?' Hermione whispered to Kell, accepting her hug and taking the opportunity to look over her shoulder.
'Not yet,' Kell admitted.
'Is he here?' Hermione demanded of t before being enveloped in a loving hug.
'I haven't seen him,' t said.
'But is he here?' Hermione persisted. 'Doesn't Rafe know?'
Taffy cast a frustrated look at her husband, who was in conversation with two members of the Roissy House Board of Directors. 'He told me to mind my own business and not to interfere,' she said glumly.
Hermione wanted to scream in vexation. Why wouldn't anyone tell her?
Vi glided up to them, exchanging cheek kisses with Kell and t and wrapping an arm about Hermione's waist. 'As your mentor, I feel obliged to say that you seem to be … overwrought,' Vi said calmly, leading Hermione away from the others into a quiet corner as the guests began to file into the formal dining room. 'You're not centred, are you?'
Hermione closed her eyes and drew a shaking breath. 'No, I'm not,' she admitted. 'I can't seem to focus.'
'You don't want to see him in this state,' Vi counselled softly. 'He will do something to overset you—he always does, from what you've told me—and you will be betrayed into behaving in the old way, rather than the new way you've learned.' Vi's hand stroked soothingly up and down the back of Hermione's dress. 'I don't want to see that happen, after all the work you've done, dearest.'
Hermione opened her eyes, hearing the tender concern in Vi's voice and believing in it. 'You're right,' she agreed. 'I'm a mess.'
Vi slipped with her into an alcove with a loveseat. 'Let's sit here for a few moments and practice our centring exercises,' she said serenely and promptly closed her eyes and rested her hands upon her thighs as if she were in the submissive's pose. Feeling a slight twinge of unreality, Hermione followed suit, beginning her calming ritual as if she were in her own room, kneeling on the bedside rug that had been placed there for just this purpose. She began with slow, deep breathing and progressed from there, finding that her centre had not deserted her—instead, she had simply failed to seek it out before she left her room, and in that agitated state, she had been at the mercy of her emotions. As she focussed, she felt her breathing slow in conjunction with her heart rate, and as she calmed, serenity flowed into her mind and her body. What did it matter what actions someone else chose to take? All that truly mattered was that she find and retain herself, regardless of what those around her chose to do.
'I'm ready now,' she said soberly, opening her eyes and twisting slightly from side to side to release the tension in her back and shoulders.
'Excellent,' Vi said, rising and reaching again for Hermione's hand. 'Let's join Master at dinner, then.'
Hermione had been concerned that they would walk in after everyone else had begun to eat, but she was relieved to see that the house-elves were just beginning to serve as she and Vi took their seats, side by side, with Master Claudius seated on Hermione's other side.
'Are you well, petite?' Master Claudius asked sotto voce without looking at her.
'I am, sir. Thank you,' she responded, happy that her answer was true.
The soup was served, and Hermione took a mouthful, her eyes scanning the long table. There were many festively arrayed witches and wizards at table, but Severus Snape was not among them. Kell caught her eye from down the table and gave a tiny thumb's up from behind her soup bowl before Reg took the traitor hand in his. He pressed a kiss to it before placing it again in her lap … and keeping his hand there, as well, from the suddenly rapt expression on Kell's face. Hermione smiled into her next spoonful of soup. Reg had certainly learned a way to keep Kell on the straight and narrow without raising his voice to her.
Hermione relaxed through the rest of dinner, finding that she was able to enjoy her food and converse with Vi and Master Claudius as she ate. She had only to deal with the moment in which she was living; for better or worse, the future would take care of itself.
When she set aside her crème brulée, she was full without being stuffed, and she felt perfectly prepared for what would follow next. A house-elf served her an espresso, and she sipped it, watching the movement of the witches and wizards around her. Dominants had begun drifting toward the Dominant's Study, their voices raised in raillery, and the submissives at the table were beginning to move about, filling the Dominants' deserted seats, chatting with their particular friends as they enjoyed coffee.
Claudius rose, excusing himself to Hermione and Vi, and moved to the doorway of the dining room most closely connected to the Study, his fair-haired head bent to listen to a shorter Dominant's comment. She was surprised to hear a male voice behind her.
'Ach, lassie, I am happy to find you here,' the affable voice proclaimed, and Hermione turned a happy smile on the earnest face of Master Rufus Desmond, the visiting Scot Dominant.
'Good evening,' she said, still smiling. It was hard to resist such uncomplicated, unstinting admiration.
'Is it true, what I hear? Is your training to end tomorrow night?'
'It is,' she agreed.
'Will you dance with me, later?' he asked solicitously. 'I've been brushing up,' he added, flushing a bit.
'I will. Thank you for asking,' she said.
With a sweet smile, he bade her farewell and headed for the Study, no doubt intent on obtaining a snifter of cognac.
When the clock in the corner tolled ten, Vi dabbed at her mouth with her napkin and turned to Hermione. 'Are you ready to remove to the receiving room?' she asked, referring to the room where the orchestra would be assembled to play for the assembled guests to dance.
'I am,' Hermione agreed tranquilly, rising. But as she was pushing her chair beneath the table, she heard Rafe Lestrange's voice upraised in laughter.
'Good one … ' she heard him call, and strain though she might, she could not determine if he had called the name of a friend in his laughing exultation.
Taffy hurried to her side, elegant in her skin-tight, slinky white evening dress, and Hermione dimly thought that Rafe must have a particular preference for his wife in this pristine, virginal colour.
'Did you hear …?' Hermione said, and Taffy nodded.
'But I couldn't tell what he said after,' t added, and Hermione sighed.
I won't lose my centre, she said to herself stolidly, though her heart still yearned to know to whom Rafe had been speaking.
She, t, and Vi wended their way through the other guests to the ballroom, where the musicians were tuning up for the first number.
'Shall we lead out the dance, petite?' Claudius said, appearing at her side as from nowhere.
Hermione saw him—really saw him—for the first time that night. He was freshly barbered, his silvering blond hair razor-cut to perfection. He wore a suit of clothes she had never seen, having eschewed the typical Muggle white-tie evening clothes in favour of a custom-tailored Italian suit of silver-grey silk, worn with an ice-coloured necktie which blended perfectly with his eyes.
'Of course, sir,' she said, moving into his arms.
His eyes were warm as he looked down into her face. He took the hand she placed on his shoulder and held it against his heart. She had the distinct feeling that he was demonstrating to the interested Dominants present that he would carefully vet her suitors—but she also felt he was demonstrating to her the fact that he was willing to court her, to win her favour.
To her great relief, Master Claudius did not attempt to chat her up, but when their dance ended, as they stood in the middle of the dance floor, he very lightly kissed her lips, which he had never done before. Hermione was shocked by his actions, but he made no move to prolong the embrace, and she had no desire to make it more noticeable by her reaction.
'With whom else will you dance tonight?' he asked, reaching out to touch one of Hermione's dark brown corkscrew curls.
'With whomever asks me,' Hermione answered.
'Then I'm in luck,' David Osborn said, gliding up to Hermione fluidly, his self-assured smile drawing an answering smile from her. 'Will you dance with me, Hermione?'
Without a thought, Hermione flowed from Claudius into David's arms, and the music began, slow and sultry.
'I hear you're free, after tomorrow night,' David murmured, his warm breath stirring the hair at her temple.
'It's true,' she answered, enjoying the feel of his arms about her, living in the moment. 'I'll be making my debut in the Dungeon.'
David leaned back a bit from her, his eyes intent on her face. 'I'm looking forward to that, Hermione,' he said significantly, his eyes flicking down her body, then again to her face. 'I will very much enjoy seeing … all of you.'
Hermione took this statement in stride. 'Will you?' she asked quizzically.
'I will,' he promised solemnly, and absurdly pleased by this, Hermione permitted him to hold her closely for the remainder of their dance together.
When the song ended, Hermione stepped back to applaud.
'My dance now, I think?' a French-accented voice said, and Hermione bestowed a welcoming smile on Alain Devereux.
'Hello!' she said, as Master David surrendered her graciously to the Frenchman. 'How have you been this past month?'
Alain gathered her close, smiling into her eyes. 'I am far more interested in hearing about you,' he insisted. 'What is this I hear about your training Master beginning tomorrow tonight to accept indications of interest in you?'
'It's true,' she said, feeling the undeniable force of his Gallic charm. 'But I'm still curious to know how you're enjoying London.'
Alain spun her from him in the dance, pulling her back with a practiced move, startling a trill of laughter from her.
'How am I enjoying London?' he said, dipping her backward and smiling down into her eyes. 'Oh, more every day, I assure you—and I'm sure tomorrow night will be the highlight.'
Hermione was still laughing from Alain's flirtatious antics when Rufus Desmond approached her.
'Will you dance with me, Hermione?' Master Rufus asked, and Alain kissed her hand before placing it in that of his rival.
'I'd like that,' she said honestly, elated by her popularity, revelling in the attention she was receiving, permitting herself to enjoy the triumph of being an attractive submissive witch with many suitors.
She and the Scotsman conversed easily as they danced, and Master Rufus did not tread upon her toes even once. As the song came to an end, he said, 'Ah, but you're a lovely girl, Hermione—I would very much like to spend more time with you.'
'And perhaps you shall—but for now, you must go to the end of the queue.'
Hermione felt the ecstatic rush of hearing his voice, and the joy rose up in her with such force that she could scarcely contain her glee. She turned, Master Rufus forgotten, and feasted her eyes upon Severus Snape. Tall and imposing, he wore immaculate white tie and tails, his Order of Merlin glittering upon its sash. His hair shone like a raven's wing beneath the candlelit chandeliers, and though he had addressed his words to Rufus Desmond, he had eyes for only Hermione.
'May I have this dance?' he said in a tone completely different from the one with which he had addressed Rufus, as if the words were not meant to be heard by anyone but Hermione.
She didn't speak but walked into his arms just as the music began.
Rufus Desmond stood where she had left him, an expression of perplexed annoyance on his face. 'But I thought he was your ex,' he said somewhat peevishly.
'Alpha and omega as well, old man,' Severus said, and in the next instant, he swept her away.
'Hello,' she said softly, inwardly marvelling at how well he danced. Had he got to practice often at Death Eater gatherings?
'Hello,' he responded, his attention wholly focussed on her.
'I was afraid you wouldn't come,' she confessed, feeling silly now that she had been so worried.
'I would have been with you sooner,' he said with the slightest touch of humour, 'but the throng was impenetrable.'
She laughed up into his face, her delight bubbling up irrepressibly. 'That's absurd!' she said, feeling as bright as a shining star.
A smile touched his eyes, though his lips did not curve, and the hand at her waist tightened imperceptibly. 'I would not have missed it for the world,' he murmured, and her eyes closed for a moment in a thrill of pure pleasure.
He held her in his arms for the next song, and the next song, and the next, and though her other suitors watched in puzzlement from the side of the room, they did not approach her, nor seek to divide her from her hawkish swain.
'I knew the dress would look this way on you,' he murmured into her ear. 'You are the belle of the ball, Hermione—there is a radiance in you that shines in no other woman present here tonight—and the three D's would very much like to hex me, so they can bask in your light again.'
She raised her head from his shoulder, intoxicated by the feel of his arms, the smell of his aftershave, and the sound of his heart-stopping voice. 'Three D's?' she queried. 'Like in Apparition?'
He snorted, wheeling her about to see the cluster of people gathered near one of the doorways, including all four of her earlier partners. 'No, the three dunderheads: David, Devereux, and Dufus.'
Hermione couldn't help the laugh she uttered. 'Not Dufus,' she scolded. 'Rufus!'
The last song came to an end, and he looked down into her eyes. 'Call him what you will—he's still a dunderhead. Not one of them is worthy of you.' He glanced at them again, then back to her. 'Save for Claudius, of course—but I had not been aware, before he kissed your mouth tonight, that he was in the running.' He touched the bracelet. 'He's wooing you properly, I see.'
Hermione stepped back from him, some of the magic of the evening seeping away at this turn of subjects. 'Please don't speak disparagingly of Master Claudius,' she said quietly. 'He's been very good to me.'
Severus nodded tersely. 'You've learned a great deal from him,' he agreed. His brow furrowed, and fleetingly, he touched her cheek. 'I am not like him,' he said. 'I never shall be. We are completely different sorts of men.'
'I would never wish for you to be other than who you are,' Hermione said simply.
He studied her for a long moment, and though there were many people passing about them, it seemed to Hermione as if they were alone in the room.
'Very well,' he said at last, and she wondered if he were responding to her last words or to some thought of his own.
'Would you …' She hesitated, then rushed on. 'Would you kiss me?'
Now a new smile touched his eyes, this one speculative. 'Is that all you're permitted?' he asked, a sly, barely perceptible goad in his tone.
'Yes,' she responded promptly, 'it is.'
'Poor little girl,' he said, and now his tone was intimate, caressing. 'What a long night it will be for you.'
Hermione deliberately held his gaze, wanting to feel the bliss of his mouth on hers, wanting him to see her yearning. She had been so sure of him when she was in his arms, dancing, but now, his words stirred the residue of fear in her heart.
Then he lowered his head, angling to place a chaste kiss upon her lips. Unlike her passive acceptance of Claudius' kiss, she wrapped her arms about Severus' neck, her mouth mobile beneath his, and though he did not part his lips to taste her, he did cradle the back of her head in his hand and permitted the kiss to go on a beat or two longer than was entirely proper.
When he moved to break the kiss, she let him go, though she kept her hands upon his shoulders.
'Tell me you'll be in the Dungeon when I'm on display,' she invited.
He shook his head minutely, one side of his mouth quirking. 'I see you're still an impudent girl,' he said. He took her hand and kissed it. 'Good night, Hermione.'
He stepped back from her, bowed slightly, then turned and left the room.
'Good night,' she answered, but he had already gone.
