Yuleride

Chapter 16 ~ The Plot Thickens

Hermione walked across the grounds, conflicted and affected, her warm breath curling around her face as she headed for the gates. She couldn’t believe she had actually slept with the Potions master. It all seemed like some kind of twisted, erotic dream. One thing was for certain however, and that was you couldn’t judge a potion by its bottle. Snarky, cold, physically unattractive Severus Snape was one hell of a lover and had Ron beat by leagues.

Ron. Gods, she had to see him. Talk to him. Explain what happened last night. Tell him why she ran away. And hide the fact she’d been gloriously shagged by a man that he abhorred on the night he proposed.

Hermione wasn’t ready to get married and live a stone’s throw from Ron’s mother and father’s house, using all the “gifts” everyone gave her and bearing a slew of children. She didn’t know if she’d ever be ready for the kind of life . . .

Hermione hesitated.

She didn’t know if she wanted to marry Ron. She thought she did until the reality of it crashed down on top of her last night like a misbalanced Christmas tree. And Snape, he did nothing but cast even more doubt on a life as Mrs. Weasley the second, the third really if you counted Fleur.

But, she didn’t really know Snape, even after their intimacy last night. He could make her leave a safe stable, if dull situation and then . . . just change his mind about everything, not caring what happened to her. She’d be adrift then. Ron certainly wouldn’t want her back after leaving him. She’d be alone in the world. Ron wasn’t perfect, but he was there for her. She didn’t have that assurance with the Potions master.

Maybe, maybe she could become betrothed to Ron, but put the wedding off for a couple of years while she traveled with Snape.

Hermione sighed.

No, that wouldn’t work. If she traveled with the dark wizard, she was sure they would be more than companions. They would be lovers. He had said that he wouldn’t pressure her for sex if she didn’t want him, but . . . how could she not want him? Especially after last night? That was the best sex she’d ever experienced. A bit of heat hit her belly when she thought of it . . . of him.

Now, the guilt set in. It was inevitable. Hermione was a woman who believed in doing what was right and proper. Up to this point, she had done that as far as Ron was concerned. She’d never even kissed another wizard . . . never . . .

Well, that was all water under the drawbridge now.

Severus Snape was the devil. A lurking devil that slunk about Hogwarts, horns and hooves retracted, sheltered in shadows, tempting others and making his diabolical plans without caring whose life he ruined in the process.

Hermione blinked as she opened the gates and let herself out.

Even if Snape was the devil, it was she who willingly ran to him and entered his lair, wanting his comfort . . . no comfort wasn’t what she had wanted. He wasn’t a comforting man by any rate. He was the kind of man that frightened, but compelled. Still, he was strong and Hermione had needed strength, a sense of protection. Snape's presence didn't make her feel safe. He was far from safe. But she knew his domain was impenetrable, and that's why she ran to him. She knew he would guard his turf, if not her . . .not without a reason. He would keep Ron away and did so, for a price.

Still, Snape had the ability to stir the silt of her discontent just as surely and expertly as he stirred his potions. The only thing a person could do with silt was filter it away. Snape wanted to be that filter.

The snarky wizard clearly wanted her. Passionately. Yes, it was to help him realize his own dreams, but after last night, it could be more. Could he be that passionate with just any witch?

Maybe. Maybe that was just the way Snape was behind closed doors. Any closed doors. But he had seemed very angry at Ron for his lack of appreciation and determined to show her an aspect of sex that she was missing. What it was like to be with a man who did appreciate her womanhood, who seemed to even worship it. Now, even if she didn’t go with him, what the dark wizard had shown her would haunt her for the rest of her days unless she managed to change Ron somehow.

Maybe . . . maybe she could have a serious talk with Ron about their relationship and what she needed to be fulfilled. Snape had taught her that much. Maybe Ron would get it and take the time to make her feel as beautiful and wanted as Snape did last night. There was a chance that could happen. If Ron could do that, marrying him wouldn’t be so bad . . .

Hermione Disapparated to the Burrow. Yes, she’d talk to Ron.

She was so preoccupied with her thoughts, she didn’t see the Potions master striding across the grounds himself behind her, sour-faced and grim, his robes billowing as he headed for the brothel, devilish plan in tow.

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”Hermione, where in the world were you? Ron was nearly mad with worry, and so were the rest of us,” Molly said, ushering Hermione into the kitchen and looking her over for any damage.

The kitchen was full of wonderful smells. Molly was in the process of preparing a large Christmas breakfast. Hermione couldn’t help her mouth watering in response. She was starving. Then she realized Molly was waiting for an answer.

”I—I went to Hogwarts,” she said.

”But Ron went to Hogwarts looking for you. Professor Snape let him in to check your rooms,” Molly replied, her eyes narrowing a bit. Was Hermione lying to her?

Hermione saw Molly’s suspicion and thought quickly. She hadn’t even considered getting the third degree.

“I went to the Astronomy tower to . . . to clear my head,” Hermione lied.

Molly studied her, then let out a sigh as she checked on the sizzling bangers in one of the pan on the stove.

”You poor dear. I told Ron it might be better to propose in private, rather than in front of the entire family,” she said softly.

Hermione nodded.

”I was overwhelmed, Molly. It felt as if the walls were closing in on me. I had to get out of here. I’m sorry,” she said.

Molly patted her shoulder in a motherly way.

”There’s no need to be sorry. Sit down and let me give you something warm,” Molly said. “Let’s hope you don’t come down with a wizard’s cold, the way you’re dressed in just a sweater and jeans.”

Hermione was still dressed like she was when she escaped last night.

”I didn’t think to put on a cloak,” Hermione said, realizing she barely felt the cold air when she left the school. She was really out of it because of the Potions master and what they had done. “Where’s Ron? I need to talk to him.”

Molly set a steaming cup of tea before Hermione.

”He’s at the joke shop. You know George always opens up on Christmas day to catch the rebound crowd who want to pay others back for joke presents. He calls it ‘tit for tat” day. Makes a lot of money, he does. He made Ron come with him, saying he could work on his relationship after they’ve made a few Galleons,” Molly said.

George always kept an eye out for business opportunities. Christmas day sales could be quite lucrative. Hermione running away out of shock at Ron’s proposal wasn’t anything serious. They’d been together forever. They’d work it out. Ron should have waited and done it properly. George was a confirmed male slut—er—bachelor, but even he wouldn’t have approached a witch he was interested in that way.

Hermione sipped her tea, thankful Ron wasn’t there. She’d have a few hours to get her story straight and then, to have a serious talk with him about their future. It was long overdue.

Suddenly she was aware of another presence as Molly took fresh

”Hermione, where did you go last night?” Ginny said from the doorway, frowning at her slightly. She, Harry and the family had spent the night.

Hermione looked up as Harry appeared behind Ginny, rubbing his green eyes then putting on his glasses. He stared at her in silent askance. Arthur Weasley walked in from out of the cold, red-faced and with a scarlet and gold scarf wrapped around his throat. He’d been in his workshop, tinkering with an old vacuum cleaner Bill and Fleur gave him for Christmas.

Hermione took another sip of her tea.

It was going to be a long morning.

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”I thought she’d be happy about it, George,” Ron said to his brother, who was waiting on a customer, his face slightly frowned as he heard him. He dropped a couple of Knuts in her hand.

”Thank you for shopping Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. Now remember, a drop of that in his spiced cider will do the trick. His head will shrink to the size of an apple for about five minutes.”

The witch gave a rather nasty little smile and left.

”Ah, another satisfied customer,” George said, looking around the shop with satisfaction. There were several steely=eyed customers browsing about, intent on revenge. He just loved Christmas morning. Then he looked at Ron, who was standing about doing nothing.

”Oh, suck it up, Ron. She was just overwhelmed, mate. I bet she’s back at the Burrow right now,” George said.

Ron looked at him, his eyes perplexed.

”But why, why’d she run away in the first place?” he asked his brother.

George shook his head.

”Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you sprung your proposal on her with all the delicacy of a tribe of stampeding trolls,” he replied. “These matters have to be handled delicately, Ron. You only did it in front of us because you needed extra courage. You put her on the spot and it backfired.”

Ron had been nervous about asking Hermione to marry him, but he felt as if she were pulling away from him. She didn’t seem very happy and he couldn’t understand why. His mother said it was probably because she wanted to be a proper wife, rather than a steady girlfriend.

”Every witch wants to settle down, Ron, and Hermione has been with you for years,” his mum advised him. “It’s time to show her you are committed.”

Arthur wisely stayed silent about the entire situation.

So Ron got to work designing plans for a house, and asked everyone to give housewarming Christmas presents. But inwardly, he was a bit worried that Hermione might tell him no if he asked when they were alone. He was counting on her saying yes because his family would be present. He had tried to manipulate an acceptance out of her, not trusting her to say yes on her own. She was still so blasted independent. He liked that about her sometimes, but not when it got in the way of what he wanted. And what he wanted was a proper wife like his mum. Hermione wasn’t there yet, but after becoming Mrs. Weasley, he was sure she’d fall into place. But after last night, he felt utterly rejected.

Poor Ron. He didn’t have a clue.

“Um, excuse me,” a sultry voice said.

Both Ron and George looked up to see a young woman standing in front of the counter. She had thick wavy black hair, green eyes and a very full mouth, painted a bright red. She wore a light winter cloak that did nothing to hide her curves. She was hot. Very hot. Both Ron and George stared at her.

”I’m looking for a belated present for my boyfriend,” she said to the wizards. “I was hoping to get some assistance.”

George hurried from around the counter.

”What kind of joke are you looking for,” he asked her, his blue eyes raking over the witch.

”Um, not a joke actually. I understand you carry adult items here. Leather outfits,” she said with a naughty smile.

George swallowed as Ron stared at the witch, speechless.

”Ah, yes. In the back of the store. Our ‘Candy Chains and Licorice Whip’ line. I’d be more than happy to help you pick something out.”

The witch’s green eyes shifted toward Ron.

”Thank you, but I wonder if he might help me. He looks a bit like my boyfriend,” she purred.

Ron just blinked at her as George looked rather disappointed.

”He’s my brother, so I must look a little like your boyfriend too,” George pressed.

”You do, but he looks like him more,” she said firmly.

”Fine. Go along, Ron,” George said bad-naturedly. She really was a tasty little bit.

Ron swallowed then walked out from behind the counter and past the witch.

”Er, this way,” he said, leading her to the back of the store.

Odessa followed him until they came to a black curtain that separated the joke shop from the adult shop in the back. It was protected by an age line. Ron pulled it open.

”Ah, the leather stuff is in here,” he said thickly as she passed by him very closely, entering the area.

He looked back at George helplessly, but George was waiting on a long line of customers that seemed to appear magically. All very pretty young women. An added distraction.

Ron looked after his curvy customer then entered the area, following her.

He silently watched her walk to the bondage area and look over a number of enticing styles of leather gear. She picked up three different outfits and looked at Ron, who didn’t say a word.

”Now, I just want you to give me your honest opinion how these look on me when I try them on. That’s all,” she said to him, walking over to the changing stalls against the far wall. Normally, Ron was supposed to count the items a customer took into the stalls, but he saw for himself how many of the sexy outfits she’d selected.

”Okay,” Ron said obediently.

Merlin. Hermione would have bugbears if she knew he was doing this, Ron was sure of it. But the witch was a customer, and you had to please your customer, didn’t you? Ron sat down in one of several little chairs kept for customer comfort and waited. The stall didn’t reach the ground and you could see the ankles of the customer.

Ron watched as she stepped around, then started as the cloak she wore dropped to the floor and was kicked back. He blinked and watched as she removed her shoes, revealing a pair of very pretty feet, the toenails painted a bright red. Then he started again as a pair of tiny black thongs dropped to the floor.

”Shit,” he breathed, his eyes widening, then shifting to the black curtain for a moment before resting back on the floor. He groaned miserably as he started to get a hard on.

”Please, kick them out of the way,” he pled in his mind, but the thongs stayed right there, the pretty feet shifting about, stepping on them.

Suddenly, the door flew open and Odessa, who was the prostitute sent from Madam Simpers House of Hooch to give Ron his “special gift,” stood there in a short leather skirt and leather bodice that accentuated every curve of her body. Ron looked as if someone had shoved a lemon in his mouth.

”How do I look?” she asked him, sliding her hands sensuously under her ample breasts.

”F—f—fine,” Ron managed to get out.

”Just fine? That’s not good enough. Take a look at it from the back,” she said, turning around. Ron hardened even more as he saw just a hint of her ass and the cleft between her smooth cheeks. Odessa looked over her shoulder at him sexily and ran one hand up her thigh slowly.

”How’s the view?” she asked him again.

Again, Ron replied, “F—f—fine.”

She sighed at him.

”I don’t know. Let me try on another one,” she said, disappearing back into the stall.

Ron quickly reached down his jeans and adjusted his erection, hoping she couldn’t see it. Gods, of all the things to have to sit through on Christmas morning after Hermione had bailed on him. It felt as if the devil himself were trying to tempt him into saying or doing something he’d regret.

If only Ron knew how close to the truth he was.

”Oh . . . damn,” Odessa hissed from the stall.

”Er, what is it?” Ron called from the chair, hearing the irritation in her voice.

”I need some help zipping this up. Could you come in here, please?” the witch said.

Ron sat there for a moment.

”Did you hear me? I need some help!” Odessa called again.

Not knowing what else to do, Ron stood up and slowly approached the stall.

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A/N: Surprise! It’s getting awfully close to Christmas, soooooo . . . I decided to pick up a bit of Yuleride. Hope ya’ll don’t mind. I’ll still be working on the other stories. Looking Glass may be coming down on Fan fiction.net. Had a chapter removed by administration and I think it might be better to take it down entirely before they start scrutinizing more stories. Lol. I’m surprised I lasted this long on that site. Anyway, thanks for reading.