Fame and Misfortune

Summary -- Hermione and Severus have their dinner date, which is interrupted with news of Lockhart.

Chapter Thirteen –

“Bloody hell!” Severus growled as he paced back and forth between the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and the Room of Requirement. The damn room was not cooperating. Every time he opened the door, he was faced with the same scene – a bedroom!

“I don’t need a bedroom,” he grumbled, glaring at the fluffy pillows and sinfully inviting bed. “I have a bedroom. I need a setting conducive to dining.”

Yes, Severus wanted to seduce his wife tonight and every night after that. After all, he was only flesh and blood. He had needs. So, in essence, the Room of Requirement was providing him with what he needed.

Opening the door, he held his breath.

“Please be something other than a bedroom,” he pleaded, peering into the uncooperative room. It was better. Instead of the nauseating Cupids and arrows, there was a low Japanese-style table, surrounded by cushions. Severus had a feeling this was as close as he was going to get to a dinner arrangement.

He really did want to take his wife somewhere nice, but it just wasn’t possible. The threat was too great. Lockhart was still on the loose, undoubtedly plotting ways to capture Hermione again. For now, dinner in the Room of Requirement would have to do. At least it wasn’t dinner in the Great Hall.

--

Hermione pulled her pink jumper over her head and grimaced. This was only the fourth change of clothes since she’d gotten out of the shower. Nervous excitement bubbled in the pit of her stomach as she wondered where they were going. Hogwarts was great, but she didn’t care for it as a jail.

“The pink jumper looks nice,” her reflection stated hopefully.

“That’s what you said about the last three,” Hermione groused.

“Well, pardon me for telling the truth,” the mirror retorted sharply.

Hermione threw her hands up in the air. This would have to do. “There’s no need to be bitchy about it,” she argued.

Her reflection pouted. “I still can’t believe you are considering that harebrained scheme. Your husband survived Voldemort. Surely, he can survive Gilderoy Lockhart.”

A sense of déjà vu struck Hermione as she stared at her reflection. A soft knock on the door broke her concentration. A muffled, “Hermione?” followed.

“Coming,” she answered, fixing her gaze on the mirror. “No matter what, I will not give in to the temptation to shag my husband senseless,” she mumbled under her breath.

Her doppelganger sneered knowingly.

--

She opened the door and walked out of their bedroom. “I hope this is okay,” she said, motioning to her outfit.

His wife was wearing a pink jumper, jeans, and trainers. The jeans were tight, yet not suggestive, hugging the curves of her hips and arse. Her jumper hung loosely on her frame, but clung to her curves just enough to accent her breasts and waist. Her hair was pulled back, tendrils of it escaping and framing her face.

“I didn’t know where we were going,” Hermione stammered. “Shall I go change?”

“No.” Severus cleared his throat and held out his arm. “Shall we?”

Smiling, she took his arm. “Before I go anywhere with you, I need the password, please.”

Brushing his lips across her cheek, he could feel her shiver and smiled. “Chocolate Frogs,” he supplied with ease.

They walked to the Floo and Severus grabbed a handful of powder, handing some to Hermione. “Want to know where we are going?”

“Yes,” she replied, her eyes hopeful.

Taking her hand in his, he kissed it. “I’ve arranged for dinner in the Room of Requirement.”

Her hopeful gaze wavered and he could tell she was disappointed. He couldn’t blame her. There had been times when he had been cooped up at Hogwarts, unable to leave. “We’ll go into Hogsmeade this weekend, okay?”

“Promise?” she quizzed him.

“Yes,” replied Severus as he motioned for her to go before him. “Shall we?”

--

She didn’t know what to expect when she stepped into the room and around a decorative screen. A soft light filled the room, highlighting the low table and cushions. Screens and paper lanterns surrounded the table, lending to the illusion of intimacy. On the table was a selection of various oriental foods. The potential for having her wicked way with her husband was right before her. Minus the table, the cushions looked like the perfect place for seduction. Hermione shook the thought from her head, trying to ignore the dull ache that presented itself whenever her husband was around.

--

Stepping out of fireplace, Severus grinned. Hermione looked nervous. Truth be told, so was he. He had never been on an actual date before.

“It’s lovely,” she said softly.

Taking his robe off and hanging it on a peg, Severus chuckled as Hermione averted her gaze. He had on trousers and a white shirt. “You can look now.” His virginal wife had no memories of their passion, and he looked forward to showing her soon.

Realizing her mistake, she laughed nervously. “I’m sorry. I thought…I thought… Well, you don’t want to know what I thought.”

“You thought I was naked beneath my robe,” he said, unable to resist teasing his young wife. “Contrary to popular belief, most wizards do wear clothes under their robes. Older wizards tend to opt for the less traditional. In fact, Albus –”

“Stop!” Hermione covered her ears. “That is not an image I need rambling around in my brain.”

“I see your point,” replied Severus, guiding her to the table. She sat on a cushion and folded her legs beneath her and to the side. Instead of sitting across the table, he sat next to her.

Picking up the bottle, Severus poured a generous amount of saki into her cup. “I hope you find the setting and meal pleasing. The ‘Room’ was somewhat temperamental.”

“How so?” Hermione asked into her cup before she took a sip.

“I was not satisfied with the settings that kept appearing.”

“That’s strange,” she murmured, setting her cup down. “We never had any problems with it. That is until Umbridge caught wind of our ‘unauthorized meetings.’”

Pouring saki into his cup, Severus smirked. “Ah yes. I seem to recall the Headmaster mentioning your ‘brilliant’ strategy in the Forbidden Forrest.”

She looked down guiltily. “I wouldn’t call it brilliant. It was more luck than anything else.”

Her modesty was endearing. “You should take credit where credit is due, Hermione. You’re very intelligent.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled nervously, unconsciously taking a stand of errant hair and twisting it round her finger.

He watched her worry her bottom lip with her teeth. He would taste those lips tonight. He reached for his cup, but stopped. He did not want to be impaired in any way. Taking one dish, he offered it to her. “Would you like some tempura?”

His young witch had been taking another sip of saki and coughed as she tried to answer. “Ye-yes, please,” she sputtered.

Severus dished two pieces of deep-fried vegetables onto her plate and she waved her hand over her dish. “That’s enough, thank you.”

--

Hermione watched Severus place several pieces of tempura on his dish and wondered where he was going to put it all. He served generous portions of a meat dish and a noodle dish onto her plate and his. An unnerving silence settled between them. She gobbled the two pieces of tempura so fast that she hardly tasted them.

He was playing the part of host perfectly, which unnerved her. Toying with her food and becoming envious, she observed him eat. He was so thin. If she ate half of what he’d eaten already, she’d have to wear her “fat” jeans for a month while she worked off the extra weight.

“I can hear you thinking,” stated Severus as he rested his chopsticks on his plate and fixed her with a stare.

Looking at her food, Hermione attempted to pick a piece of meat up with her chopsticks, but was unsuccessful. Obeying the law of gravity, the meat splattered on her plate, causing a stream of thick brown gravy to land on her sweater.

“Allow me.” Unsheathing his wand, Severus pointed it at the gravy. “Evanesco.\"

Hermione touched her jumper, relieved he hadn’t vanished it. That would have been truly embarrassing. As if reading her mind, the corner of her husband’s mouth lifted.

“Do give me some credit, Hermione,” he murmured softly. “If I were trying to rid you of your jumper, you would know it.”

She laughed nervously and tried to collect some food with her chopsticks again. Her husband, on the other hand, had no difficulty picking the food up. He gathered a bite-sized piece of steak and offered it to her.

Hermione didn’t move. This was mortifying. Her eyes widened as he pressed the morsel to her lips. Instinctively, she opened her mouth and accepted it. The act, considered unhygienic by some, was sensual and seductive.

Somehow, she knew. All Severus Snape had to do was crook his little finger and she would grant him any request. Chewing the delicacy, she swallowed, only to find more offered to her. “Oh, no thank you. I couldn’t –” She tried to refuse, but Severus slid more food into her mouth. As she chewed, she mumbled in protest. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was trying to fatten her up.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full,” teased Severus before popping another piece of tempura into his mouth. Her eyes widened as the chopsticks lingered on his lips. Gods, that was hot! Her nipples tingled and blood flushed various parts of her traitorous body. This wasn’t fair. Her body remembered his touch, but she didn’t.

As if sensing her turmoil, Severus pushed his dish away and stared at her.

She tried to avert her gaze, but some unseen force coerced her to stare back. One of his eyebrows arched and he cocked his head to the right. An overwhelming urge to kiss him lanced through her and the pulse in her groin became difficult to ignore.

He leaned to the side and unfolded his legs, lying on his side and propping himself up on his elbow and several cushions. “You wish to kiss me,” he stated simply, his tone one of encouragement.

I want more than that, she groused, shifting uncomfortably on her soft pillows. She hardly noticed the table disappear.

“What is stopping you?” Her husband reclined among the cushions and closed his eyes. “I am yours.”

How could she resist an invitation like that? Licking her lips, crawling toward him and kneeling by his side, she squelched the natural desire to straddle him. After all, she didn’t want to squish him.

Leaning over Severus, Hermione placed both hands on either side of his head. It’s just a kiss, she promised herself. Nothing more, nothing less. Remember the plan. It was strange, almost as if she were outside her own body, watching.

Closing the distance between them, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips against the lips that haunted her dreams. He responded to her hesitant kiss, opening his lips and coaxing her to deepen it.

Touching her tongue to his, she whimpered, hoping her inexperience didn’t show. Her doubts stilled her movements and she shied away. But her husband was having none of that. Sometime during the kiss, Severus had liberated her hair from the restrictive clip at the back of her neck. It was his hand now, which held her to him.

He groaned in protest as she tried to break the contact again. Opening her eyes, she was startled to find him staring into her eyes. His tongue sought entrance and she granted it willingly.

Hermione conceded defeat gracefully. Tonight she would give him anything he asked and beg him to take everything she had. After all, you only live once, right?

--

Severus didn’t know how he resisted the urge to strip her jeans and knickers off and lose himself inside her. The innocence and insecurities of her thoughts enflamed his lecherous libido. He had to have her. She shivered above him and he could feel that she was having difficulty maintaining her balance.

Sweeping his hands down her body, he massaged her hips in encouragement. “Climb on top of me,” he mumbled against her lips, and dug his fingers into the denim.

Her eyes widened and she turned her head as if she were embarrassed. His Slytherin proclivities inspired his next move. He moved against her, pushing her onto her side and evening the playing field. Before she could protest, Severus thrust his knee between her thighs and rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him.

Hermione yelped and tried to climb off him, but he held tight. Even through his trousers and her jeans, Severus could feel her heat. Unable to resist, he bucked against her. It seemed like an eternity. He needed her.

Finally accepting her position, Hermione ground against him. “Severus-sss,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

Crazed, he sat up and clung to her. He jerked her jumper up and exposed her satin-covered globes. He nipped her straining buds through the lush material and she arched her back.

His shy seductress was emboldened, shoving him down and rocking over his straining erection. Reaching between her generous flesh, she unhooked the material and freed her mounds.

He was gifted with the sight of the erect testaments of her desire for him. “Hermione.” He strained to say her name, the heady lilt of desire lacing the edge of his voice. Brushing the pads of his thumb across one of her nipples, Severus nearly came in his trousers. The expression on her face was one of pure wonder.

Salivating, Severus sat up and latched onto her other nipple. By the Gods, if he could freeze time, he would. He was so close to completion, not just physical, but emotional as well. She was the spark – that one grain of hope he’d held on to during those dark years of the war. The realization was tangible and he knew he would move the heavens to be with her.

There was a roar in his ears that deafened him, so much so, that Severus realized it wasn’t just the blood pumping through his veins, but someone calling out his name.

“Fuck,” he hissed, quickly covering his wife. He noticed a timid shadow moving behind the paper screen. Hermione was so consumed by lust, she mewled her disappointment and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

“Being discreet, Dobby is,” a trembling voice whispered.

“What is it?” growled Severus impatiently.

“Needs you, he does,” Dobby called out. “Headmaster needs you and Madam Snape in his office with great urgency.”

--


“This had better be good, Albus,” Severus snarled as he stepped through the Floo after his wife, both he and Hermione stopping when they saw Potter standing next to Fawkes’ perch.

“Did you find him?” Hermione whispered, abnormally pale.

The young Auror shook his head, a grim expression upon his face. “But there has been a new development.”

Stepping in front of his wife as if to protect her from any bad news, Severus glared at Harry. “Well? Out with it, boy.”

Harry sighed and stepped away. “Miriam Strout was found dead this afternoon. There’s evidence that Lockhart is behind it.”

Behind him, Severus could feel Hermione back away. Having no memory of Lockhart’s magical abilities, she probably thought the wizard capable of anything. But he knew better. Or did he?

“But Lockhart Obliviated Hermione because he couldn’t cast the Unforgivable,” Severus said. “He said he couldn’t kill me. He didn’t know how. Are you trying to tell me that Lockhart can cast the Killing Curse now?”

“Yes,” Harry replied solemnly. “He’ll kill anybody who gets in his way.

Severus sneered as he reached for Hermione. “I’ve dueled with Lockhart before. He’s a bumbling idiot.”

Albus, looking grim behind his desk, cleared his throat. “But that was before Gilderoy became mad.”

*****
A/N – I have good news and bad news. I just sent chapter fifteen off to my first beta reader. After chapter fifteen, updates will be at the mercy of my muse. To make matters worse, my son is sick now.

Here’s more good news. Lana Manckir was kind enough to paint this picture for me. Here’s the link. http://www.deviantart.com/view/29262155/
Lana, I love it. I would leave you feedback on deviantart, but I couldn’t figure out how to do so. This is my wallpaper. It goes without saying, I love this picture!

I must beg everybody to take a look and compliment Lana on her talent. God, Snape is hot – even with that nose!