Never Piss Off a House-Elf

When Hermione opened her eyes, she gasped. Then she was pushed back from the black cloth her face was pressed into, turned around, and she gasped again. A moderate yet stately manor spread out before her, old but relatively well-kept. Hedges were trimmed and the gates looked functional, but there was no flower garden, just a sea of greens. She turned back around to regard Severus Snape.


"Is this. . . ?" Hermione started to ask, suddenly shier than ever before. This brought the fact home that she would be married in just under a year. This was where she would live, a married witch in the wizarding world, no more Hermione Granger, but Snape.


"Yes. This is the ancestral home of my family. Spinner's End," Severus said, his hand on her should, guiding her towards the massive front doors. "It belonged to the bastard who sired me, the hereditary Snape home. You should get used to calling this home."


Hermione swallowed thickly and nodded, her stomach in knots. She let him lead her up the path and open the doors. She let him step through the threshold first, following close behind. Severus removed his traveling cloak and hung it on a hook just inside the door. He was left in his frock coat and trousers, his everyday wear. Hermione looked down and regarded her own clothing choice in disgust.


"Figures. I go to see my new home, and I look like the frump next door," she muttered under her breath. He heard her and gave her a look.


"Madam, you do not look like a 'frump', merely a muggle. I'm sure I can have Satchel pick up your things so you may attire yourself in a more fitting manner," Severus said, motioning for her to follow him. "Keep up. This is the tour you get. Obviously that was the foyer. On your left is a sitting room, past that a drawing room and your lady's music room. On your right are the servants' kitchen and kitchen proper, along with both the casual and formal dining rooms. I typically eat in my study, but if you so desire we will take our meals in the casual dining room. The formal is used strictly for entertaining guests, as it is much too large for anything else. My study is past the kitchens, and there is an adjoining room you may use for your own study. I have a large lab attached, but I will have to rework the wards on most everything in this house before you have access.


Bedrooms are on the second floor, the master, the one I inhabited as a child, and a few guest rooms. You may have your pick. I assume you will want to ward your room until such time as we are wed, but leave me a diagram so that in case of emergency I don't have to waste time breaking the wards. The lab attached to the studies is actually under this house, so keep that in mind. Through the back of the house there is a greenhouse, which is why you saw no garden on the lawns. If you prefer a garden, please tell Miki and she will prepare one for you, or find you what you need.


We've missed dinner at headquarters. Go upstairs and pick your room, then you may help yourself to the trunk and wardrobe at the end of the hall. The things in there belonged to my mother, who at one point was very nearly your size. If you find anything of your liking, you may have it, and alter it to your figure. I'll send Satchel up with the rest of your things in a few moments. I expect you to meet me for dinner in no more or less than one hour from now. It will be an early but filling dinner, as we have much to discuss.


Including what a dunderhead you've been."


With that, Severus left Hermione at the stairs, staring wide-eyed at the manor around her. She heard his voice in a few rooms as he tried to locate the elves without actually summoning them, using his super greasy black bat powers to their fullest. She sighed and thought about getting a snack when his voice was finally directed at her.


"Fifty-five minutes left, madam, and if you are tardy I will come find you myself."


Hermione gulped and dashed up the stairs. She picked a room randomly and slammed the door behind herself. She saw a bathroom was attached, and her trunks were already in place.


"Those two work fast, don't they?" she chuckled to herself, imagining Severus as a house-elf. The thought was too funny, and suddenly a house-elf in a little kimono appeared.


"Oh! Anta ga. . . no, Miki is meaning, you are the new mistress!! Satchel-san said you were coming!" the elf said, and Hermione's heart melted. She was adorable, with bit black eyes and the accent, and the kimono printed with lotuses.


"Hello, you must be Miki. I'm Hermione," Hermione put her hand out, but Miki bowed low instead.


"Hajimemashite, Himeko," Miki said, and blushed. "Is meaning, nice to meet you, Mistress He ~-- Mistress Himi~--"


Hermione laughed. "That's alright, Miki. What did you call me at first?"


"Himeko!"


"That will work just fine, Miki. Could you draw a bath for me, then go find Satchel for the Master?"


Miki paled. "Master is already finding Satchel, Himeko-san. Satchel and Miki was having in-outie, and Master saw! Miki is so ashamed, she ran away to the Mistress!"


Hermione was red in the face from laughing at that point, and Miki started laughing, too.


"It's alright, Miki. You've probably seen the Master giving the in-outie to some witch~--"


"No, Himeko-san! Master is a good man! Only giving the in-outie to the Mistress!"


Hermione stopped laughing there. She smiled weakly at Miki, and Miki bowed.


"Is being drawing the bath for Himeko-san!" Miki chirped, winking into the bathroom. She helped Hermione undress and get in the tub before she left her to herself. "Is being near if Himeko needs Miki. Putting out the clothes for Himeko."


Hermione felt Miki leave, and the elf closed the door to the bathroom, affording Hermione the modesty she craved. She needed to think.


It hadn't been until Miki mentioned it that Hermione had allowed herself to think about that aspect of the marriage law. She had to be pregnant within a year of her wedding. That meant that she had to sleep with her Potions Master. No, not sleep. Shag.


"Damn it," Hermione said softly, washing her hair gently. She rubbed herself clean, shivering as cool air hit her wet body. She looked down and sighed, taking stock of her figure. She had full, heavy breasts, a barely rounded stomach, wide hips, and fleshy thighs. "Ah, yes, a body meant for child-bearing. Even my body is against me."


She wrapped a huge fluffy towel around herself, stepping out of the tub and onto the cold floor. She shivered again, stepping lightly until she reached the somewhat ratty rug in the bedroom. Dainty slippers sat by the bed, and a rich scarlet dress was draped over the bed. Hermione let her towel drop and she picked up the dress, examining it carefully. Scowling, she dropped it back on the bed and rummaged through one of her own trunks.


Hermione smiled when she came up with a favorite outfit. She slipped into the appropriate undergarments and shimmied into a knee-length denim skirt with a slit up the front. She pulled a low-necked t-shirt that flashed: Best thing about a wizard? and His magic hands! alternately. She was going to start the way she meant to continue, even if it pissed off her intended. She did slip on the heeled sandals Miki had left out for her, and she smiled at her reflection. Grabbing her wand, she muttered a quick incantation and flicked her wand at her face, magically enhancing her complexion, just enough but natural-looking. She looked through one of her smaller bags until she came up with a tube of gel that she applied liberally to her hair and cast another spell to activate the gel, affording her the luxury of manageable curls instead of the frizz she hated.


With ten minutes left to spare, Hermione wandered out of her room and downstairs, heading for the music and drawing rooms. The drawing room held a few chairs, and she assumed his mother must have used it for entertaining her friends.


"If she had any," Hermione muttered. Eileen Prince had been. . . a pip. The girl had been plain and not exactly popular while at school, but Severus must have loved her a bit. The drawing room was well-kept, and while some more modern things had made their way in, many things showed wear and tear of use. Hermione closed the door as she left, heading for the ~-- her ~-- music room.


The music room was small but magnificent. There were shelves and shelves of sheet music and music books, both wizarding and muggle composers and artists. A spinet sat in one corner while a sophisticated muggle stereo system occupied another. A touch on another shelf revealed that it swiveled revealing many records, tapes and cds. Hermione began examining all the music for her perusal, completely losing track of time when a hand came to rest on her shoulder.


"Eek!" she screeched, jumping a few feet in the air and dropping the record she'd been browsing.


"Did I not tell you to meet for dinner in one hour, no more, no less? Can you not tell time, witch? And if you are going to browse, could you be more careful? That is an original pressing," Snape said, plucking the vinyl from the floor. "Yes, News of the World. Are you a Queen fan, Miss Granger?"


"Yes, but I didn't expect you to be," Hermione said, hand on her chest as if she could keep her heart from pounding by sheer will power. "I didn't mean to drop the record, Sir. And I didn't mean to be late. I got. . . sidetracked."


Snape's nostrils flared, and he proffered her an arm without saying more on the subject of music.


"Shall we retire to the casual dining room? We have much to discuss, and I daresay we are both. . . ravenous," he said, voice a bit thick. He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling her scent. "Vanilla and cinnamon, Madam?"


Hermione shivered at his voice. Little thrills ran up and down her back, and her tummy clenched convulsively. She nodded, not trusting her voice.


"Delicious," Snape said under his breath, flourishing his coat to hide his growing problem. Hermione heard him, but luckily for him, she didn't see the effect the conversation was having on him. "This way, Madam."


Hermione took his arm and let him lead her to the casual dining room. She was going to need a map with a key to which rooms were used for what functions, because for some reason, her head was completely fogged up. They entered the dining room and saw Miki nursing Satchel, who tried to push her away when Hermione and Severus entered the room.


"Satchel is not meaning to be helped by Miki, Master," Satchel said, cowering in the corner. "Satchel is being ironing his hands but Miki saw. Miki is being a bad elf helping Satchel."


Miki's ears flattened against her head, and she hissed at Satchel.


"Miki is being a good elf. Satchel is being baka," she pronounced, trotting into the attached kitchen to get the meal. "Baka, baka, Satchel ga baka desu!!"


Hermione gave Severus a look and took her arm out of his, walking over to Satchel, who cringed at her nearness. She took him in her arms, and as she examined his burnt hands, he cried softly, mewling in pain.


"Satchel, you shouldn't have hurt yourself. I thought I ordered you not to?" Hermione said, tears in her eyes. She turned to Severus. "Go get some of your healing salve and some purple potion. Now!"


Severus reached into a pocket and procured the necessary salve and potion, heading over to fiancée and house-elf, handing them over. Hermione took them and forced the potion down Satchel's throat first, then applied the salve. Satchel's hands healed before their eyes, and Hermione gave him another hug before releasing them.


"Satchel, why did your hurt yourself so?" Hermione asked, concerned.


"Satchel lied to master and miss! Satchel is deserving clothes, he is. But Satchel is thinking of the master and the miss, and the bairns, not wanting to be a bad elf," Satchel sobbed, wringing his newly-healed hands and hopping foot to foot. "Satchel was not meaning to call Miki a bad elf. Satchel is not wanting to get Miki the clothes, Master."


"Satchel, I'm not going to give you clothes, or Miki. She was helping you. I suggest that you apologize to her, though. Go into the kitchen and help her. I will help the Mistress to her seat," Severus said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Some days it was tempting to hand out clothes just to get some peace and quiet.


Satchel nodded and winked into the kitchen, leaving Hermione and Severus to each other. Severus led her to the table and pulled out a chair for her. He grabbed a chair and sat next to her, waiting for food or conversation.


Luckily the food came first.


555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555


Hermione and Severus dined on meat lasagna, sharing bread and speaking of mundane things like weather and whether or not the Quibbler was worth the paper it was printed on.


"I think it is, just for the entertainment factor," Hermione said, finishing off the last of her lasagna. She took a sip of her Diet Coke and Severus nodded.


"And sometimes they are the only people will to run the truth. The problem is still the fact that everything else they run is so outlandish that people disregard it, even when it has something important to share," Severus said, finishing his ale. He regarded Hermione, and the t-shirt. "And where did you get that t-shirt? Miki said she'd put something acceptable out for you to wear."


Hermione groaned and wiped her hands on her napkin.


"I'm starting the way I mean to continue, Si~-- Se; you know, I have a question: what the hell am I to call you?" Hermione said, exasperated.


"Severus, of course," he said, almost smiling at her discomfiture.


"And you'll call me Hermione?"


"I don't think I have a choice, Madam, any more than you do."


"I hate it when men are right," Hermione muttered. Severus quirked an eyebrow, and she scowled blackly at him.


"The t-shirt?"


"Oh, right. As I said, I'm starting the way I mean to continue. I will wear what I want. I do know how to dress for the occasion, Severus. But I refuse to wear robes all the time. I like my muggle clothing, and you'll just have to get used to it. It isn't so different from what other young witches wear. And ordering me to wear robes all the time won't work either," Hermione said with an air of finality in her tone. "And you can't just decide that dinner will happen in an hour. Feel free to pick a time when you'd like it to happen at, and I'll try to accommodate you. But there are times when I'll be engrossed in studies, or you'll be engrossed in study, so don't try to make things so rigid."


"This is still my own home, Hermione. I have guidelines to be met. But I'm sure we can . . . compromise, if that will content you," Severus said, trying not to choke on the words. "I prefer robes to muggle clothing, but so long as I do not see you only in muggle clothing, that is agreeable. I will concede that there are times when I am so engrossed in study that I am late for or miss entirely my meals. But I think we should both endeavor to be on time to meals, and to share them, to gain a better understanding of one another, if nothing else."


Hermione nodded, and a silence fell over them. She shifted in her seat, and Severus's arm shot out to pin her still against the chair.


"Hermione, stopping fidgeting. If you are bothered or concerned, speak up. You certainly never kept quiet in class," Severus said in a bemused tone.


"Why did you come to my rescue earlier? Why did you bring me here?" Hermione said, clearly confused by his actions.


"Simply put, you are my fiancée, and I protect what is mine. I have never hurt a house-elf, unless absolutely necessary, I never raised so much as my voice against my mother, and now that you are my fiancée, I will not hurt you, nor will I allow others to hurt you," Severus said somberly, his eyes a bit haunted. He shook himself and continued. "Next time you see them, you would do well to tell your. . . friends. . . that I will not allow their mistreatment of you. They can treat you better, or find a new. . . punching bag, I believe you would call it."


"They've never hurt me like that, Severus," Hermione said, shaking her head. "They saved my life when I was a first year, and they helped me to the infirmary my second year after that accident among other things."


"Might I remind you that it was Ron and Harry you were hiding from when the troll found you your first year, and I was the one who brewed the elixir that saved you your second. Hermione, in your fourth year, it was Krum whom you wee kidnapped for. You didn't figure into Harry's thoughts as you may have thought; else why did he save Mister Weasley and not you?"


Hermione's face fell. She looked down into her hand sin her lap, and a tear fell.


"I don't have any other friends, Severus. I'm too mature for my year-mates, and maturity doesn't matter to older classmates and adults. I can't even tell most people that I'm eighteen this year, not seventeen! Ron, Harry and Ginny know all my deepest secrets and fears, and they still love me for it!"


"If they knew and accepted your fears and secrets, why did they turn their backs on you? Didn't they know how you felt about children, marriage? But I know that you are mature, Hermione, and I understand how you feel. In fact, you can look at this union as a gateway into more adult relationships. . . friendships. As my wife, you will have the chance to interact with great minds, people who will see your mind for its knowledge and quickness, not for the age of the body it resides in. Not that the body is bad, mind you," Severus said, scanning her body and face for reaction. Hermione had to laugh at that. It was just so out of the ordinary and definitely not something she ever expected to hear from the dour Potions Master.


"I hadn't thought of it that way, Severus. I still love them, but I look forward to meeting whatever great minds you know. Shall we continue our talk here, or are you tired?"


"How attentive of you. We need to continue our discussion, but shall we go into the music room for now?" Severus said, standing. He offered Hermione his arm again, but she shook her head.


"I'm not quite used to that, Severus. I can walk all by myself. I can even tie my own shoes," Hermione said glibly. Severus shook his head and stepped out of the kitchen. Hermione followed him, and neither one was thinking of the house-elves that were already scheming again.


555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555


AN: Next chapter ~-- Severus in the Music Room, with Hermione.