For the Potions Master's Amusement
Chapter 83: Debut
Hermione sat at the small desk in her bedroom in the Claudius apartments, writing in her journal. The left side of the desk was crowded with the floral tributes she had received for her debut night, save for the cut crystal vase containing her Bird of Paradise; it sat in solitary splendour on her right. Using the methods she had learned from Master Claudius, she poured her thoughts and concerns out on parchment, emptying her mind of the chaos which disturbed her peace. Not surprisingly, her writing showed she was wrapped up in the possibility that Severus would—or would not—be present for her debut, and running a close second was her cringing fear of appearing naked before a throng of people. Still, she reminded herself, her sisters would surround her with their love, their support, and their equally naked bodies, and she would simply be another one of many women present in Roissy House tonight wearing nothing but her own skin.
There was a knock at her door, and Master Claudius spoke from the other side. 'May I come in, Hermione?'
She stood and crossed the room, opening the door. 'Please come in, sir,' she said.
He entered, and his cool, grey eyes assessed her as she stepped back. He closed the door behind him, something which he had never done before in her bedroom. Her heart rate increased, and she felt a flutter of fear, interlaced with … attraction. Lowering her eyes deferentially, she waited for him to speak.
Rather than speaking, he touched her chin, turning her face upward, and when she was looking into his eyes, he released her. 'Your hair looks lovely,' he said. 'I like it this way very much.'
Hermione smiled, pleased with the sincere compliment. She had received few compliments on her appearance during her school years, and she still preened inside when someone she liked and respected paid her one. 'Thank you,' she said.
'May we sit?' he asked, and Hermione sat gingerly on her bedside, leaving the desk chair for him—but he sat beside her, his weight dipping the mattress. 'Did you enjoy hearing Taffy's and Violet's stories of their debuts?' he inquired.
Hermione nodded, thinking almost against her will of this man's role in Vi's debut night, his methodical preparation of her backside for penetration, then entering her, his cock sliding against that of the Dominant Vi straddled …
A knowing, intimate smile touched Claudius' lips, and Hermione swallowed, feeling the flush stain her cheeks. He knew she'd been thinking about him in a sexual situation, and the knowledge pleased him, judging by the expression on his handsome face.
'I see,' he said, letting his knowledge of her carnal interest in his activities hang between them for a moment. Then he continued, 'It was certainly a memorable night amongst the dozens of debut nights I have seen at Roissy House, over the years.' His gaze flicked to her lips, then back to her eyes. 'Your experience in this lifestyle, thus far, has been a strictly monogamous one, Hermione. That is certainly the preference of some people—but there is a whole world of experiences available to you. You may be happy with one man who prefers not to share your loveliness, or you may find that you would be happier with a Master whose inclination is to help you explore all of your sexual fantasies—in a safe, sane, and consensual manner.'
Hermione didn't know what to say, so she said nothing. It seemed that Master Claudius was implying that Severus Snape was something of a stick-in-the-mud when it came to the more daring practices of Dominance and submission—but Severus had participated in Vi's debut night, in concert with three other Dominants, had he not? Hermione didn't believe the professor would deny her the opportunity to have sexual relations with multiple partners, if it were her inclination to do so—providing he had control of the situation, as would be his right, should things progress the way she hoped they would—but she wasn't at all sure that she had any desire to have several Dominants touching her at once. It was exciting to think about, but doing it? She wasn't sure she was prepared for such a thing, or that she actually desired to have it happen to her.
After a moment, Claudius' attention was drawn to the flowers on her desk. 'Ah, so many tributes!' he said with genuine pleasure. 'Do you enjoy receiving flowers from so many admirers, petite?'
'Yes!' she answered, feeling relief to have moved on to a more comfortable topic. 'Thank you for the bouquet—the lilies are beautiful!'
He gave her cheek a careless caress and stood. 'It pleases me to give you gifts,' he told her. 'You are enchanting, Hermione. You are a quick learner, a young woman with the capacity for both steadiness of spirit and deep, driving passion. Many Dominants are attracted to these attributes, and it is only right that you should reap the benefit of their—of our—admiration.'
'Sir,' she said, hesitant about straying into less than comfortable territory, but too curious to desist, 'how do you know that about me—that I'm capable of … deep passion?' She finished softly after stumbling over the last two words, feeling suddenly embarrassed to say such a thing about herself.
He pulled her to her feet, standing much closer to her than he had done, as a rule, during the months of her training, and it dawned on her that he was using his skills as a compelling, Dominant man to attract and enthral her. 'Don't forget, petite, that I was there the night you were bound, naked, to the St Andrew's Cross and whipped with the strap—and I was certainly curious enough to follow you into the dark and witness the … aftermath.'
Hermione was almost breathless with a blend of indignation—he had spied on her and her Master?—and arousal.
'Violet received a particularly intense measure of my attentions that night, as a result of my response to your public humiliation,' he said. 'And, of course, I was also present the night you followed Kelly and her Master into the dark—what a naughty girl you were!'
And in an instant, Hermione's indignation was swept away by embarrassment and shame. Claudius had known what she was doing to herself in the dark that night, while she listened to Kell and Reg making love?
'You were a young submissive alone, without the protection of your Master,' he reminded her gently. 'I was supervising Kelly in the Dungeon that night, and I was watching over you, as well.' He smiled, that sexy curving of his lips that made him cinema-star attractive. 'Of course, it was a pure pleasure to do so.'
Hermione had a moment of clarity, seeing herself that long ago night, busily frigging away on the sofa, with Reg and Kell making love behind her, and Master Claudius, standing in the dark, watching it all. She was conscious of his eyes on her face now, and she knew instinctively that the slightest indication of interest on her part would prompt him to take her into his arms—to kiss her—and she stepped back, averting her eyes.
'Thank you, sir,' she said noncommittally.
He stood before her for a moment, and Hermione could feel the weight of his gaze on the top of her head. At last, he said, 'Very well, Hermione. Do you have any questions for me before tonight?'
'No, sir,' she responded quickly.
'Then I will see you promptly at nine o'clock,' he said, the cool, commanding tone returning effortlessly to his voice. 'Keep in mind that if you have to relieve your bladder during your display, you will do it on the platform—so, if you do not wish to urinate in a chamber pot for the edification of the Dungeon tonight, I would recommend that you cease partaking of liquids early.'
Have a pee in front of everyone in the Dungeon? Oh, no, no, no! 'I'll do that—thank you,' she said, finally looking at him again.
And with a curt nod, Master Claudius departed her room.
When next her bedroom door opened, mere minutes before nine, she started, moving to cover her nakedness, but she saw it was an equally nude Vi, and her hands fell to her sides. She was embarrassed even to be seen by her friend, her female friend, in this state—but what was the point of covering herself? She would not be permitted to do so when Claudius joined them, so she had best begin practicing it now.
'How are you?' Vi asked, her voice filled with tender concern.
'About the way you'd expect,' Hermione said miserably.
'You can do this,' Vi said firmly advancing on her. 'You've practiced many, many times, so you know you can physically do it. You'll go to subspace, and every thirty minutes, we will stand you and rub your muscles.' She stopped before Hermione and took her hands. 'When it's over, dearest, you'll be able to ask for your reward—on this night, you may ask for whatever you want.'
Hermione felt her palms perspiring against Vi's cool, steady hands, and she pulled away. 'I'm going to be so embarrassed,' she whispered, her voice rough with threatening tears.
'I was, too,' Vi assured her. 'The first time Hadrian made me appear naked, I had to be dosed with a Calming Draught.'
Hermione was surprised into a snort of amusement, and Vi grinned.
'Yes, it was pathetic,' she said. 'You're doing very well, compared to me. You're a Gryffindor, after all.'
Hermione blinked. 'Are you from my House, too?' she asked, diverted.
'Oh, no,' Vi said tranquilly. 'I was in Hufflepuff House, with Reggie and Taffy. I was ahead of them at school, of course, but I knew who they were when they showed up here the first time.'
'But how did you know my House?' Hermione asked, puzzled.
'It was all over the newspaper after the war, wasn't it?' Vi said reasonably. 'But I would have known without reading it—I was there the night you fought the Death Eaters to keep us safe, Hermione. And you Healed Kelly when we thought she was dead—you're terribly brave.'
Hermione smiled. 'Or terribly foolhardy,' she said, her spirits improved. 'Either way, I suppose we'd best go out—I'd hate to have my last act as Master Claudius' trainee be to anger him by being late.'
And hand-in-hand, the two girls entered the sitting room and stood together under the appraising eye of Master Claudius.
'Fair and dark,' he murmured, circling them, taking in their nude bodies from each possible angle. 'Perfect foils for one another, my pretties.'
'Thank you, Master,' Vi said, and Hermione murmured her agreement, wishing she did not feel as if Vi's husband were staring with frank, open interest at her breasts and pudendum.
They were distracted as there was a knock at the door to the corridor, and holding securely to Hermione's hand, Vi led her to greet the rest of their retinue. In the corridor, t and Kell awaited them, and both girls kissed Hermione's cheek before taking their places around her: Vi to her left, t to her right, and Kell behind her.
'Am I late?' Elinore said, gliding up to them in her chair, dressed in a white silk ensemble in deference to her age and infirmity, but the flowers in her upswept silver hair identified her as being one of Hermione's attendants.
'You are right on time,' Claudius said, closing the door behind him. 'Shall we go down, ladies?'
And without waiting for an answer, he led the way toward the grand staircase with Elinore directly behind him, forming the advance guard of Hermione's entourage. Taking a deep, centring breath, Hermione stepped out, wearing her courage in place of her clothing, and went forward to her presentation.
The moment they began moving down the staircase, Hermione was aware of a respectful silence falling over the gathered guests below her. She had never witnessed another submissive's presentation night, so she wasn't aware of the protocols, but it was apparently the accepted practice for the onlookers to fall back and form a walkway through which the debutante and her attendants passed. Hermione was aware of people both nude and clothed, barefoot and shod, but she could not bring herself to raise her eyes to look at their faces. Instead, she studied the floor and the space between her and Elinore's chair, the distance she must cover to proceed from here to there. Her face burned with shame, her hands were clenched at her sides, but she put one foot before the other. For what felt like the first time all day, she wasn't thinking about the professor, his whereabouts, or his state of mind. She was completely taken up with her own situation, her embarrassment, her nudity in the presence of this large group of D/s practitioners.
Then there was a momentary pause, and both t and Vi reached out to place a hand on Hermione, a wordless Wait!
'Good evening, Brutus,' Claudius said. 'These ladies are with me.'
And they were moving forward again, through the Dungeon door, and down the stairs into the dark room, punctuated by areas of bright, hot light. Hermione risked a quick glance past Elinore and over Master Claudius' shoulder. She saw that the largest floor space, that usually devoted to the St Andrew's Cross and its various activities, had been cleared, the cross pushed back, flush against the wall, and in its place, the platform about which she had been told.
A flash of fear went through her, and she averted her eyes again, walking carefully down the Dungeon stairs. A wave of nausea roiled through her, and she had a momentary vision of vomiting down her naked front, shaming herself and Master Claudius forevermore. Stop it! she told herself fiercely, her spirits flailing desperately about for purchase in this pit of terror she now occupied. What would he want me to do?
Frantically, she sought her centre, knowing if she could focus, she could calm herself and her body's reaction to the stresses of this night. She had been fine when she left her room, having done her exercises to establish her serenity, but this was all too much—too many eyes, too much nervous tension, and not enough assurance that it would all prove worth it, in the end. He had danced with her—shown his interest, his preference—sent her the exotic, singular bloom in its distinctive cut crystal vase—but would he be here for her tonight, subject himself to the curiosity of his peers? Would he risk her choosing someone else?
I need you! she thought despairingly.
And instinctively, she reached for him, her consciousness spreading out from her in ever-widening concentric circles, searching for the one whose presence would anchor her sufficiently to perform the task before her. Was he here? Was he tucked away in the pockets of darkness or standing tall among the upturned faces solemnly watching her progress? Barring that, was he perhaps in the house, indifferent to her plight but close enough for her to reach him?
Wildly, she felt for him, completely unsure if she could touch him this way—she had never tried, save when he was buried inside her body, moving with her in the rhythm only they could create together—but she needed him, oh so desperately, now. Was he near enough? Was he open to her?
'Severus,' she breathed, a whisper of sound passing unnoticed among her companions, and she felt the sickness in her stomach slowly subsiding as she concentrated all her efforts on finding Severus Snape's consciousness amid the crushing mass of the countless minds in the house.
And a bead of peace seeped into her awareness, spreading from her mind through her body, calming her breathing, her heart rate, and her anxiety—and it was enough.
As they crossed the floor to the platform, Hermione saw the carpeted stairs. Then Elinore moved aside, and Claudius was speaking to her.
'This is your final act of submission to me as a trainee, Hermione,' he said. 'You will kneel on the platform for me, displaying your body to the view of any and all who wish to look at you. There will be no need to speak. You will remain in position until you are told to move, either by Violet or myself. Do you understand me?'
'Yes, Master Claudius,' Hermione said, pleased with the strength of her voice. 'I understand you, and I will obey.'
'Good girl,' he said quietly. 'I know you will make me very proud.'
And he stepped to one side, to have Vi replace him. 'We're going up now,' Vi said, taking Hermione's hand and beginning to climb up the nearest stairs.
Hermione saw there were four sets of stairs leading up from each of the four sides of the platform. At the top was a large, dark red pillow, edged in braid of red and gold, and she had a moment of amused wondering—had the pillow been chosen with regard to her school House colours? And then she and Vi stood together on the platform, much closer to the bright lights, and Hermione had a momentary impression of what felt like a thousand eyes on her flesh, until she averted her eyes from them, focussing on her own feet.
'You'll kneel down, dearest,' Vi said soothingly, her hand on Hermione's shoulders, guiding her into position. 'This is just exactly the same as what we've done over and over again. Relax into subspace, and before you know it, I'll be back to rub your legs.'
Hermione settled into the submissive's pose, naked to the air of the room—not to mention the eyes of the curious—but she pushed that knowledge away, concentrating instead on the many times she had done this for her Master, when she had been his possession, and safe under his black, fathomless gaze. The backs of her hands came to rest upon her thighs, and after checking to make sure that her knees were parted the same width as her shoulders, she closed her eyes, and began her vigil.
First there was the pillow beneath her legs, the texture silken against her skin. Then there was the brightness of the light shining above her, magically intensified for her benefit, no doubt. And last, the murmuring of the voices below and about her.
And within, a warm, steadying peace, a foundation upon which to build.
'Stand, love,' Vi said, and Hermione blinked owlishly up at the other girl's face.
'First break,' t said from her other side, reaching down to place a hand beneath her elbow. 'Can you stand?'
Hermione rose and t lightly kneaded her neck, her shoulders, and down her back, as Vi worked from her ankles upward. Hermione was suddenly hyperaware of their touch upon her skin, and for the first time since this public ordeal had begun, her nipples hardened, and she felt the first flush of sexual awareness. Then her attention focussed on the group standing directly below her, their faces upturned to her: David, Alain, and Rufus. Behind them, seated and unmoving, was Master Claudius, whose steadying grey eyes regarded her with unwavering attention. She smiled for him, and though his lips did not move, she saw a softening of his eyes, her acknowledgement from him.
Her friends then turned her, so that Master Claudius was on her right, and they encouraged her once again to lower herself to the cushion. As Hermione settled into position again, it dawned on her that her self-consciousness had faded away.
'I would love to be with you tonight, kitten,' the voice on her right said, and Hermione stirred from the depths of subspace, listening to the beguiling words. 'My God but you're perfect. Those nipples are begging to be pinched and pulled …'
Hermione identified the speaker as David Osborne, and her body responded favourably to his suggestion, her nipples pebbled, warmth settling in her belly.
'Look at your pretty little pussy,' another voice said, speaking from before her, and the accent identified the speaker as Alain Devereux. He sounded closer, somehow, as if he had climbed up a few of the steps. 'Invite me to make you happy tonight, ma belle, and I will spend the hours until dawn finding ways to make you cry out. Ah, I want to taste you …'
A scuffling noise, and the voice again of Alain, no longer caressing. 'I will thank you to keep your hands to yourself, monsieur,' he said icily.
So, he wasn't supposed to climb the steps, then …
And it was quiet in subspace, Hermione alone with her memories and the growing arousal of her body.
'Second break,' Vi said, and Hermione was glad of her friend's steadying grasp on her arms as she rose up, pains of protest shooting down her arms and legs.
'Lean back on me,' Kell said, standing solidly at Hermione's back, and Hermione obeyed her, relaxing as Vi stood before her, rubbing firmly up her arms, and t knelt at her feet, massaging her legs. 'You're doing a fabulous job,' Kell added, pressing a kiss to Hermione's temple.
'Perhaps your Masters will let you subbies play with your friend tonight,' a jovial, unfamiliar voice said, but Hermione was too removed from the scene to be curious enough to look and see who had spoken.
'And perhaps you'll remember your manners the next time you pay a visit to Roissy House,' Reg said firmly.
'Oi!' the stranger objected. 'No need to be so proper!'
'You'll not speak to my wife in that familiar, disrespectful way, blockhead,' Rafe said coldly, and Hermione heard another scuffling noise slowly fading away in the direction of the stairwell.
'So much drama,' Hermione murmured, allowing her friends to manipulate her limbs as if she were a rag doll.
'Presentations draw all the idiots in England to Roissy House,' t said. 'That's why the Doms are so careful of strangers on these nights.'
'Do you want to wet your lips?' Vi asked, offering a goblet with a straw protruding from it. 'I wouldn't take much, but you can have some, if you're thirsty.'
'I'm fine, thank you,' Hermione said dreamily, accepting the pressure on her shoulders to resume her position, now with her back to Master Claudius.
'She's in deep,' Kell said in a marvelling voice, as the girls began to move away from her.
'She's a remarkable submissive,' t said, almost as if she were quoting someone else.
'I know you probably won't,' Rufus Desmond said, and Hermione heard him as clearly as if he were on the platform with her, 'but I'd be so happy if you chose me tonight, Hermione. I'm not proud—I'd be pleased to be one of a group—but if you'd just give me a chance, I'd do everything in my power to please you. You're exactly the sort of lass I've always wanted for my own—smart and kind, sexy and pretty—the sort who'd give herself wholeheartedly to her Master …'
He as quiet for so long she thought he'd said everything he wished to convey.
'I'm not a … a bloody war hero, and I'm not a dashing fellow, but I have my strengths. I'm steady, you see, not the sort to change every time the wind blows, and I've plenty of gold, and a decent old house in the highlands—ah, you wouldn't be sorry if you'd just give me a chance …'
The stiffening of her upper leg muscles, which radiated into her hips, was making her terribly uncomfortable. She was all right, as long as she floated in subspace, but these soliloquies of the Dominants who hoped to fuck her when this ordeal was done were disruptive in the extreme ….
Ignore them. Focus.
Well, it was easy for the voice to say, wasn't it? But she breathed in the intent, breathed out the disturbance, and drifted.
'Last break, dearest,' Vi said, and she and t stepped in close to hold Hermione erect as they helped her stand.
'Ow!' Hermione murmured as the pains moved along her legs. 'Why is this so much harder than the practices?'
'More psychological stress,' Kell said, her voice floating up from below, where she massaged Hermione's legs with firm, sure movements. 'It takes a toll on your body, too.'
Vi moved behind her, beginning to rub her neck. 'You have only thirty more minutes,' she said encouragingly. 'Do you know what you're going to do when it's over?'
Hermione's head lolled forward as she gave herself over to Vi's clever fingers. When it was over? What did that even mean, really? She would be crouched on that red cushion until the end of time, wouldn't she?
'Have you made your choices?' Kell asked, standing straight now, her warm, steadying hands on Hermione's arm. 'Who's the lucky Dominant? David, Alain, and Rufus have been lurking about watching you like dogs hankering after a special treat.'
Hermione turned her face, brow furrowed, to t. 'Is he here?' she asked simply.
Taffy looked into Hermione's eyes. 'I haven't see him tonight, love,' she said gently.
'But I … I feel him,' Hermione said.
And her friends turned her again, so that Master Claudius was now on her left, and after assisting her to settle on the cushion, they descended the stairs, and she was alone.
And in the bliss of subspace, she brushed against his consciousness.
I need you, she said.
Warmth and strength cradled her, and she breathed deep and quieted.
You are complete in yourself. You need nothing. You may pursue, instead, your desires.
Hermione knew that if she struggled against the peace, she could rouse herself and deal with this challenge, but she did not wish to give up the comfort of subspace. So cleverly, she struck back with a sure thing.
You need me, she thought.
And though there was no lessening of the sense that she was held and cherished, to those words, there was no response.
When next she was roused, it was by large, sure hands, which pulled her first to her feet, then swung her up, into strong arms. She rested her cheek against his chest, and Master Claudius looked into her face.
'Are you well, petite?' he asked quietly.
'Yes, sir,' she answered, finding her voice with difficulty.
He carried her down the steps and sat in his chair with her in his lap. 'Put your arms about me and hold on,' he instructed, and Hermione was happy to do as she was told, for his fingers were finding the aches and strains in her legs and massaging them away. She clung to him and murmured her appreciation of his attentions into his shoulder as he worked her over, only becoming conscious of her nudity as he massaged to the mid-point of her thighs, then transferred his attentions to the small of her back, massaging out toward her hips with sure precision. Then he slid one hand up her back and cupped the back of her neck, his grey eyes studying her face.
'Better?' he inquired.
'Thank you,' she said, wondering how she could possibly convey her feelings to him adequately.
'Let Violet take you to the ladies',' he said, assisting her to rise, 'and when you return, I will present you to your peers.'
Hermione went thankfully into Vi's arms, and Kell and t followed them into the restroom tucked down a side corridor from the Dungeon. Hermione moved into the toilet stall and relieved her bladder, marvelling how strange it was that she could go hours without the loo unless she was told she couldn't use it, at which point she needed it every fifteen minutes.
That duty taken care of, she moved back into her friends' midst, allowing them to pet and fuss over her, accepting a toothbrush and toothpaste from one, allowing another to tidy up her hair, allowing at last the application of a light, musky scent to the hollow of her throat.
'Do you know what you're going to do?' t asked, clearly concerned. 'What you're going to ask for?'
Kell hovered near the door. 'You can play with anyone you like, honey—it's your night. It's not a commitment. It's more like a … a playdate.'
Hermione laughed, a clear, happy sound, and Vi hugged her from behind, her breasts pressed against Hermione's bare back. 'Master was just one of the men I played with on my debut night,' she said into Hermione's ear. 'No Dominant would hold it against you if you wished to play with many before you settled to one. A good Master will encourage you to explore your boundaries.'
Hermione turned and pressed a quick kiss to Vi's lips. 'You've been the very best friend a girl could ever ask for,' she said sincerely. 'I will never, ever be able to thank you enough for taking me into your home and allowing your husband to train me to be a proper submissive.'
Vi flushed with pleasure. 'We love you,' she said. 'You know you're welcome to stay with us, if you choose. And if you wish to invite Master to play with you tonight, alone or with other Dominants, you may do so with my blessing.'
Taffy took her hand then, and Hermione turned to look into t's concerned eyes. 'Hermione, do you have a plan? You ought to, before you get there, and they expect you to say what you'd like to do.'
Hermione squeezed t's hand. 'I know,' she said, releasing t and moving past Kell to the door.
'But he's not here,' t said to Kell. 'What's she going to do?'
'I don't know,' Kell replied. 'But she's got that look about her mouth, you know what I mean?'
'Yes, I know,' t and Vi said simultaneously.
Hermione heard them behind her, but she didn't stop to explain herself; she had done all that had been asked of her, and she felt the emotion swelling within her like a balloon, the future a limitless horizon before her. She passed the people who moved courteously aside for her and her following—if rather farther behind than was customary—retinue. Ahead of her, Master Claudius stood, resplendent beneath the lights, a golden god of a Dominant. Hermione stopped before him and knelt at his feet.
Her legs protested the all too familiar position, but she ignored the twinges of her muscles and gave to Master Claudius the tribute she owed to him. She felt the light touch of his hand on her hair, and then his fingers touched her chin and she looked into his face, where he knelt across from her, knee to knee. Without speaking, he reached behind her head, and with precision born of long practice, he unfastened the collar she wore about her throat.
'You have fulfilled every requirement for the completion of your training, Hermione, and I release you to find your own Master. Go with my blessing, and may all aspirants to your favour know that I stand behind you with the full faith and force of Roissy House.'
And as the collar was removed from her throat, he bent forward and kissed her mouth, his second such kiss, though this one was at once sweeter and more intimate than had been the one she received from him just the night before. Then he was on his feet, lifting her to her feet as well, and he turned her before him, so that she faced a small crowd which applauded enthusiastically. Hermione was aware of other groups in other parts of the room, carrying on as they would normally do, without regard for the debut of one submissive woman at this particular Dungeon party.
Then the interested Dominants were ringed about her, and posted watchfully behind them she saw Rafe and Reggie, their arms crossed over their chests, looking for all the world like bouncers at a Muggle night club, ready to put out anyone who caused trouble. On Rafe's other side stood Hadrian with Elinore, white rosebuds in her hair. Hermione smiled around at them all, the joy in her heart irrepressible, with no dark foreboding to mar her happiness.
Directly before her stood Masters David and Alain, each of them watching her with bright-eyed interest. She began by stepping forward and offering a hand to each of them, which they willingly accepted.
'Thank you so much for the flowers, both of you,' she said, looking from one smiling face to the other. 'You've made me feel pretty and sought after, and I can't begin to tell you what that has meant to me.'
Alain lifted her hand to his lips, but David frowned down into her eyes. 'This sounds to me like "thanks, but no thanks,"' he complained, managing even so to sound good-natured.
'That's right,' Hermione agreed cheerfully.
David shook his head, as if he couldn't quite believe Hermione would not choose him, but the Frenchman released her hand, shrugging with Gallic fatalism.
'Enjoy your evening, ma belle,' he said, slipping away into the crowd, and David followed him, off to search out an adventure for the evening.
Reg shifted on the periphery of the group, a frown between his brows, but Rafe stood unmoving, his shrewd gaze scanning the crowd ceaselessly. Now Rufus Desmond stepped up to Hermione, a hectic colour in his naturally ruddy face.
'Hermione,' he said, and his voice was gruff with suppressed emotion. 'Hermione, I …'
Hermione shook her head minutely, silencing him instantly. 'Thank you for all you've said and all you've done—for all the attention you've paid a girl who received little of that in school,' she said earnestly.
Rufus looked over his shoulder, noting that the people from the edge of the crowd had begun to melt back into the throng, and he looked back to Hermione. 'But what do you mean to do?' he said reasonably. 'Play with your friends and their husbands?'
Hermione laughed merrily, so full of glee that she might have hugged the Scotsman if she hadn't been stark naked. 'That would be a fine night for me, don't you think?' she said gaily.
And Rufus frowned, stepping away from her and executing a jerky bow. 'You know best,' he muttered and stalked away, his obviously impaired dignity bristling like porcupine quills.
Reg moved forward a step, his gaze going over Hermione's head to Claudius. 'Is that what's been decided?' he asked, confused. 'Have the girls decided it amongst themselves?'
But Hermione stood her ground quietly, her confidence unimpaired, her air of tranquillity drawing from Rafe a smirk, followed by a slow shaking of his shaggy head. Claudius, however, seemed somewhat perplexed, for he bent and placed his lips at her ear.
'Petite?' he queried. 'What have you decided?'
Any time, now, she thought.
Hermione felt a movement at her back, as if Claudius would touch her bare shoulder. Then Rafe staggered slightly, his arms inexplicably filled with silvery grey fabric, and between Rafe and Hadrian appeared Severus Snape, his hair slightly disarranged from the discarded cloak, his black eyes fixed on Hermione's face as with a burning question. He wore his customary black boots and black trousers, but rather than his usual black coat, he wore the white shirt she had only seen him in once, white lawn, with billowing sleeves gathered at the wrists and a froth of ruffles flowing down the front.
His pirate shirt, she thought, and she inhaled sharply, not because she had doubted he would be here—hadn't he been in her head for the last two hours and more?—but because he had taken his sweet time revealing his presence to the others. She took one step forward and stopped, for he had not spoken aloud to her, and she had no clear idea of what she ought to do next. So she looked into his gaunt face, delight singing in her heart, and waited for him to show her the way.
And seconds ticked past as he looked at her, and she permitted him to look, open to the probing of his mind or the questions from his lips, a vessel of submission waiting to be claimed and filled. Didn't he know? Couldn't he tell? Her love for him burned within her like a flame, and still, he waited.
When at last he moved, it was the rising of his chest, as of a man who has been thought dead who finally draws breath. Hermione smiled a greeting, and the corners of his eyes crinkled in response—dear Merlin, but she wanted him! And then he took one step forward, his left hand extended to her.
Hermione did not hesitate, nor did she look left or right. She walked up and placed her hand in his, then knelt at his feet, slowly averting her face, until all she had of him was the clasp of his hand, the blurred image of his boots through her tears, and the steady, pulsating presence of his mind in hers.
