A Maid in the Devil's Manor

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 17 ~ Hermione Returns Home

Both Severus and Hermione slept in late that Sunday, both exhausted for different reasons. When Hermione dragged herself back to consciousness, her head felt as if it had a vise around it.

“Did I really eat oysters last night?” she groaned, holding her head. She looked at her bedside table. A bottle of sober-up potion sat waiting.

“Thanks, Eli,” Hermione muttered, reaching for the bottle and opening it. She turned it up, draining every drop of the marvelous restorative. Instantly, she felt fine. She sighed. Yes, she had really tied one on last night. And she had been teasing the snarky Potions Master terribly. She hoped he wasn’t mad with her. She had left him quite abruptly. But when it was time to go, it was time to go. She stood up, the covers dropping off her nude body. She stretched, and popped her neck.

“You are certainly a shapely young woman!” the mirror exclaimed.

Hermione smiled at the glass. She sort of liked the talking mirror. She wondered if it were charmed to say just the right thing? She walked into the loo, used the facility and hopped in the shower. She stepped back so she wouldn’t be caught under the stream as she mixed the water, then took a long, soothing shower, washing and conditioning her hair. Then her mind turned to what she would be facing tomorrow and everything came down on her again. She planned to head back to her flat this afternoon and think what she would say to the Ministry tomorrow. Staying at the Manor had been nice, but she had her real life to get back to. There was a lot to do. Apartment hunting for one. She would pick up one of the magical flats-to-rent books on the way home. They were great. The book automatically updated itself as flats became available. If she saw a flat she liked, she could instantly contact the landlord through the book and send her basic information and get a reply if the flat was available and secure it. She was going to be looking for one that did not require security or advance rent. There were a few of those available from time to time. Sounded like a plan.

She dressed in traditional robes and walked out into the study. The house elves had been there, cleaning up the food and drink, and putting away the folding table and chairs. She was about to exit her rooms and head for the upper manor when she heard her name called. She pulled the mirror out of her pocket and stared down at it. Severus’ face was looking back at her.

“Good morning, Professor,” she said.

“Good afternoon, Miss Granger,” he replied.

Oh, she hadn’t realized she’d slept so late.

“Good afternoon,” she corrected as she grinned at the Potions Master. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Are you hungry, Miss Granger?” he asked her.

“Starved,” she answered as her stomach growled in agreement.

“I’ll be down to get you in a moment, then. Wait for me,” Severus said, his image fading.

Hermione was relieved. She wasn’t looking forward to walking up all those stairs. Suddenly Severus appeared with a crack. He looked at her.

“No muggle clothing today, Miss Granger?” he commented, looking over her green robes with approval.

“Nope. I am celebrating my witchiness today,” she said. She took his arm.

“I’m starving,” she said. He nodded and they apparated directly to the rose covered veranda.

A pile of ham sandwiches with lettuce, tomato and mustard was waiting for her, along with a pitcher of ice-cold pumpkin juice and a liter of milk. There was also fresh fruit. Hermione plopped into a chair, not waiting for Severus to pull it out, and lit into the sandwiches. Severus sat across from her and watched her inhale the food. For a little woman, she certainly had a large appetite, and was well into her second sandwich before she said a word.

“I’m heading home this afternoon,” she said, “back to the flat. This has been wonderful but I have to think about some things realistically. I need to be home to do that,” she said.

“I understand Miss Granger, and tomorrow is going to be a rough day for you at the Ministry,” the Potions Master replied, biting into a sandwich and looking at it thoughtfully as he chewed.

“This is quite tasty,” he commented. He looked up at Hermione, who had a faraway look in her eyes. She was probably thinking about what she would have to face at work tomorrow. He decided to change the subject.

“Ah, Miss Granger, I made an inquiry for you last night…” he said hesitatingly.

Her amber eyes focused on him.

“An inquiry?” she responded.

“Yes,” he said looking at her evenly, “About the availability of male…er…companionship at the brothel. It is available.”

He watched her closely.

Hermione looked thoughtful. He went to the brothal last night. Funny, he didn't look any more relaxed than usual. She decided to pursue the conversation.

“Really? Do you know how much it would be?” she asked him.

The Potions Master was taken aback, but recovered quickly. He imagined the rates were the same.

“Well, for a straight forward encounter without bells and whistles, I believe the rate is three galleons,” he replied. He couldn’t believe he was telling her this.

“Well, if the Ministry lets me go, I’ll have a final paycheck. Maybe I’ll treat myself. I’m going to need something special to help me get through this,” she said, taking a bite out of a slice of orange and chewing slowly.

The Potions Master didn’t respond. He was thinking about how those encounters really were. In all probability the male prostitutes probably had the same constraints as the women did. There would be no kissing and probably no foreplay. Their actual job was to get the client off and out so they could handle as many customers as possible. Miss Granger’s encounter was likely to be quite disappointing. He knew how he always felt after visiting the brothel. Empty.

“Miss Granger…how can I put this delicately? Paid sex isn’t as satisfying as you may think it is,” he said haltingly.

“What do you mean?” she asked him, “You use it all the time.”

“Only because it is the only option afforded to me. You see, Miss Granger…selling is a business like any other business and the participants are more into it for quantity rather than quality…”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the Professor.

“You sound as if you are trying to discourage me, Professor,” she said accusingly.

The Professor shrugged.

“Possibly, Miss Granger,” he replied, eating a grape and chewing it calmly as he looked at her.

“Why?” Hermione asked him sharply.

The Professor swallowed and said, “Because it has been my experience that it isn’t as satisfying as one might think.”

“Yet you have been visiting brothels for years,” she retorted. He was starting to piss her off with his double standard. Men.

The Potions Master sighed tiredly. “Only because it is my only option, Miss Granger.”

Hermione studied him.

“Tell you what, Professor. Why don’t you just let me worry about what satisfies me, ok?” she said with finality. The issue was closed.

The Potions Master nodded, though inwardly he was cursing her stubbornness. To him, her going to a brothel was such a waste. She was the kind of woman a man could take his full pleasure with, but she was willing to have a cold, emotionless encounter with a paid stranger. And when she found herself unfulfilled, it would probably affect her work, since it would definitely affect her state of mind. Then he brightened. The lab would be set up next weekend, and Hermione would be excited about that. The thoughts of the brothel would be nicely knocked out of that formidable brain of hers.

Hermione rose from the table.

“Professor, I’ll be going now. I’ll contact you tomorrow evening and let you know how everything goes at the Ministry,” she said. Severus rose.

“Let me escort you outside then, Miss Granger,” he said, walking around the table and stopping by her side, looking down at her. He had enjoyed having her at the Manor these past two days.

They walked down the long corridor toward the main doors.

“Construction on the lift will begin tomorrow. I am entrusting Eli to oversee the workmen. He is really quite good at it. He doesn’t allow anything to remain undone. I am fortunate to have him,” Severus said.

Hermione thought she detected a little fondness in the Potions Master’s voice. The Professor? Fond of a house elf? In an alternate universe maybe. She looked up at him.

“I will also be contacting Mr. Longbottom to acquire his services in setting up the terrarium lab. Hopefully he will be able to begin this week,” he added. Hermione began to brighten a bit.

“That would be wonderful,” she breathed. The Potions Master smirked. He was getting his little genius back.

“And the lab equipment will be delivered early Saturday morning. They will begin setting it up immediately. I hope you will be staying Friday night so you can be here when it arrives and oversee the setup. I have no idea what you want,” he said smoothly.

“I’ll definitely be here,” Hermione said, smiling at him brightly. Good, she had forgotten her troubles for the moment. Severus opened the door and let Hermione pass through before following her out. They walked to the end of the portico together. Severus bowed to the witch.

“Until next weekend Miss Granger,” he said softly. He was moved to kiss her hand, but did not. It wouldn’t be appropriate.

“Next weekend, Professor,” Hermione said, smiling. And with that, she disapparated.

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Hermione apparated to a small wizarding shopping center first, to pick up a free copy of the rent-a-flat book. Then she headed for home.

The witch appeared in front of her flat with a crack of thunder following her arrival. Several of her neighbors were outside and looked at her when they heard the sound of apparition. She smiled and waved, but they looked at her coldly and did not respond. More believers of Rita’s article. She sighed, unwarded and unlocked the door to her flat and walked inside.

She plopped down on the couch and began to sift through the book. She found several promising flats, and sent messages to the landlords. All of the responses were immediate. “Unsuitable Applicant” was the reply. Hermione tried something. She changed her name and sent the same request and received a “Suitable Applicant” and a small month-to-month lease, and identity verification form. So…she was being blacklisted from flats as well. Great. Just great.

She sighed. She couldn’t believe all these problems arose just from her associating with the Potions Master. At Hogwarts, she had never seen this side of his life. There he was a respected, if feared Professor and member of staff. His service to the Order was held in high esteem. She hated the unfairness of it all. The unfairness to her, and the unfairness to the Potions Master. If the Ministry intended to let her go tomorrow, she’d be sure to give them an earful before she left. She wouldn’t be cowed and sent slinking from the Ministry with her tail between her legs. Fuck Rita Skeeter and her accusations. Fuck the Ministry and their political machinations. Fuck the entire wizarding world if necessary. She was going to have her say and when she left the Ministry, she intended to leave it with her dignity intact.

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A/N: Yeah Hermione…don’t you go down in tears girl!! Let them see the lioness inside. Next chapter, the Ministry scene. It’s going to be a goodie too (I hope). Please review.

Draecura: My deepest sympathies at the loss of your dog, or should I say your family member. Eighteen years is a long time. Remember to celebrate his or her life with you, the joy and love you shared, for in all actuality it is the life lived that truly matters, not the death. May your grief pass quickly and the celebration of your pet’s life remain with you always, my friend. Much love to you. Ruth.