Never Piss Off a House-Elf

Hermione was well-absorbed in The Fine Arts and Secrets of Brewing Opaque Potions when the door to the library unceremoniously flew open. She was startled into dropping her book and staring up at Severus, framed by the doorway.


And what a picture that doorway framed. Severus was all in black, as usual, but the medium of his dress was quite different. A tight, short-sleeved black t-shirt accentuated his shoulders and chest, while black jeans hung low on his hips, a battered belt threaded through to keep them up. Black boots completed the muggle attire. Black robes billowed behind him. He looked like some sort of rock-god wizard, especially with his hair pulled back.


Hermione licked her lips, the apple still clenched in her hand. She looked down to what she was wearing: denim skirt, halter-top, and no shoes.


I'm no Eve, Hermione thought, mentally laughing at herself. He looked delicious, while she ~--


You do look delicious, Hermione. Far more tempting than all the Eves of the world, Severus sent the thought to her hungrily.


"Why are you still in here? I believe I sent Satchel to find you. I would like your company while I go out," Severus said evenly. Thankfully with her attention caught elsewhere, Hermione wouldn't see his state. The Cool-Off draught was only ever meant to work in the short term, to allow amorous couples enough time to find a private place. It had already more than worn off.


"Severus, you also said this morning that I could begin my perusal of your library. That is what I've chosen to do with my day. And I already told you that you don't just get to make these plans or deadlines," Hermione said, still sitting. She took a bite of her apple and some of the juice ran down her chin.


You should be so lucky I don't lick the juice off your chin, my dear, Severus thought at her, and Hermione had the grace to blush.


"Not so sure now, are you?" Severus said, his voice low and silky. "Now get up and come with me. We have a few places to go today."


"Where?"


"What do you mean, 'where?', Hermione? We're going out," Severus said, coming to stand before her. "Might I assist you in getting up?"


"No, you may not, not until you tell me where we're going, and what we're doing," Hermione said stubbornly. She'd finally found a book she both wanted to read and hadn't read before. "Tell me at least where we're going, and I will go with you."


"To Diagon Alley. Now up. And throw some robes on over that outfit," Severus sneered at her as she rose and stalked out of the room.


"What? Too muggle for you?" Hermione tossed back, jogging up the stairs to her room for some robes.


"No. Too revealing for everyone else," Severus said aloud, though no-one was around to hear him. She was his, and she was going to stay that way.


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It took Hermione a few minutes to get ready to go out. She slipped her sandals back on, took them off, and put on instead a pair of platform sandals. She was short, and Severus only made her feel shorter. She pulled her hair back into a half-bun, covering the tattoo that she'd managed to keep a secret from everyone save Satchel, who couldn't tell on her; it was a Celtic love-knot ring, a foolish thing to some, but it was the first of her tattoos. She couldn't keep her mind from wandering to what Severus would say when he saw it. Some men liked tattoos, and if he were one of them, he'd be in for a wonderful surprise.


Hermione grabbed lightweight summer robes in navy out of her closet. She slipped them on and rolled the sleeves up, eyeing the shimmer on her right wrist for a moment before she removed the glamour. Another Celtic knot graced her wrist, wrapping around it gracefully.


"This will be fun," Hermione said quietly, as if Severus had ears everywhere. Her thoughts drifted again, and she began daydreaming about how he would discover each and every little tattoo. She felt warmth pool between her legs, and she shuddered as she felt the moisture gather. "Damn it."


Hermione quickly changed panties, banishing the soiled pair. It simply wouldn't do for Severus to know what effect he had on her.


"Any more than he already knows," Hermione muttered. She stepped into the bathroom and appraised her appearance. She refreshed her face and grabbed her watch, strapping it on her wrist. Small silver hoops in each ear and a silver chain completed her outfit.


"Hermione, are you quite ready?" Severus said impatiently from just outside her open door. "I can't enter the room because you have neglected to give me a diagram of your wards."


Hermione groaned and stepped back into the bedroom proper. She grabbed the diagram off her desk and headed out the door. Once outside, she thrust the parchment at Severus, who took it and tucked it into a pocket.


"Shall we? I'd like to get back in time to check out a few more books," Hermione said impatiently. She headed down the stairs ahead of Severus, who was quickly regretting his decision.


"Hermione, the books will be here forever. I own them, witch. They're yours just the same as they are mine," Severus said. "And this way, witch. We're going on brooms."


"We're what?"


"Brooms. Muggles use them to clean, we use them as transportation? Your Ron and Harry probably diddle themselves to pictures of them?"


"Severus! I know what a broom is, and I don't need you saying such things about Ron and Harry. Regardless of our situation, they're my friends. And we can't we just apparate if we're going to Diagon Alley?"


"Because getting there is half the fun. Now, come on," Severus said, trying to lead her out the door. Hermione refused to budge. "What? Crookshanks got your broom?"


"Stop it. And that reminds me, we have to get him at some point. I don't want to just leave him at my parents," Hermione said, still dodging the big question.


"We can get him today. Now let's get the brooms, and we can leave."


"We can't."


"Yes, we can, Hermione."


"No, we can't."


"I have my broom here, and I have one you may borrow until we pick up your broom."


"I don't own a broom."


"We'll procure one for you today, then. Unless there's something you'd like to tell me."


"I don't fly. I fell off my broom from quite a height when I was a first year. I can't fly," Hermione said, ducking her head. "I mean, if I have to, I can ride behind someone, but if I am actually in control of the blasted thing, I lose it. I vomit and cry and fall off."


Much to her embarrassment, even the memory made her cry. Big tears welled up, and she felt her nose begin to crinkle. Her throat swelled, and she tried to stifle the wail, which came out as a low moan instead.


Closing his eyes, Severus crossed the short distance and put an arm around her, making those meaningless noises men are taught to make at an early age. Small, comforting sounds that help crying women quiet themselves.


"Shh, Hermione, stop crying. Stop crying, you are alright. This is nothing to cry over, shh," Severus said, holding her as she hiccupped a few times. He stroked her pair, pushing it back from her face.


Hermione's cries quieted, and Severus caught a glimpse of something on the back of her neck. His eyes bulged [AN: And they certainly weren't the only bulge. . . cackle cackle] at the sight. A small tattoo of an Irish love-knot ring. He let her hair fall back into place, putting his hands on her shoulders.


"S~-- sorry, Severus. It was so scary, and embarrassing ~-- every time I remember it, I get so embarrassed, but I've never cried like that about it," Hermione sniffled one last time. Her nose was red and her eyes puffy, but her features were already starting to normalize themselves.


"It is quite alright, Hermione," Severus said, mentally smacking himself. He hated to hear people crying, and women were the worst. Tears almost automatically meant that the men in the general vicinity would have to do something to fix them. "But you mustn't shed tears over something like that. Tears should be reserved for when you can't make another noise. Yell, scream, moan, or even laugh. But don't just cry."


Hermione looked at her fiancé for a moment; he was lost in some thought, and she knew he'd speak when he damn well pleased. She studied him while he thought, letting her body calm itself.


He's right, too, damn it all. Crying about something like embarrassment or falling off a broom is ridiculous. You cry when someone dies. . . or is born, Hermione thought, her eyes distant for a moment. She knew what else she needed to do when she got Crookshanks from her parents'.


"Hermione, you may ride behind me, or in front on my broom, but I wish you to learn how to fly on your own," Severus said after a few quiet moments. She glared at him, and he shook his head. "For emergencies. I won't make you fly or fly on your own unless it is an utter and dire emergency. But you must know. And it will help you, knowing how to fly; not letting a broom beat you."


"I assume you know that you're right?" Hermione asked, and Severus nodded. She gave an exasperated sigh. "Fine. But not right now. Just add it to the list of things I'm sure you have that you dislike about me or think I need to fix!"


Hermione stormed out of the house ahead of Severus, who scrubbed his hand down his face yet again. He smiled. He knew how to get back at her.


"Hermione, I need you to answer one question for me before we leave."


"That being?"


"How'd you manage to pass Flying with Hooch if you couldn't stay on the broom?"


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Severus had ducked a number of stunners for that last question, but at least it was an honest one: in a class where one is supposed to learn how to fly, how does one pass it when one can't stay on the damned broom?


Severus grabbed his late-model Mars 1800, complete with jet black handle [AN: of course], and swung a leg over it. He kicked off and hovered, making a few small, lazy circles before he spoke again.


"Hermione? Care to hop up behind me so we can get going? If we're getting your fleabag ~-- I mean, beloved pet and familiar ~-- we need to leave sooner rather than later," Severus said, and Hermione scowled at him.


"What? Hot date tonight you want to be back in time for?" Hermione spat without thinking.


"Only if you're willing, fiancée," Severus sneered at her, and she blushed again. "Keep doing that and I won't even ask."


Hermione's eyes widened at that, and she nodded. She moved to get on the back of his broom, and promptly slid right off.


"Hopeless case," Severus muttered under his breath, turning to stare at Hermione, who had landed flat on her butt in the grass. Aloud, he spoke, "Get on the broom in front of me. I'll brace us both. You'll probably do best to either close your eyes or get on facing me. I don't want to have to clean vomit off the new clothes."


Hermione glared at Severus from her undignified seat, standing up and brushing herself off with an air of haughtiness. She stood tall ~-- well, as tall as she could get at well under two meters [AN: Let's just say she's about 5'5", k?] ~-- nose in the air until she laughed. That sort of arrogance didn't become her, and she knew it.


Hermione climbed carefully onto the broom in front of Severus, gathering her robes so they wouldn't whip around and make it difficult for Severus to see. She was facing away from him at first, but as he moved to kick off for real, she squealed and turned side-saddle, her face pressed into his chest.


"Infant," he smirked at her, and she nodded.


"That's right, and I don't care. Let's go," Hermione said, her face hidden in the black fabric of his shirt. As they gained altitude, Severus carefully removed one hand from the broom handle and around Hermione so he could tuck the ends of his own robes around her. It could get chilly for a passenger, even in the summer months.

They moved at a steady pace, Severus carefully gauging Hermione's responses to find a speed that would scare her least while allowing them to arrive in a timely fashion. After about half an hour in the air, Severus cleared his throat to address Hermione.


"Hermione, I need to know what you'd like to do first, because it affects the route we take," Severus said, nudging her until she looked up at him. Her mind must have been wandering, because her eyes were molten amber, a sure sign that she'd been thinking and didn't particularly want to be disturbed. Severus's breath caught, and he had to fight not to kiss her. That would make sure she never got on a broom again, he thought to himself while Hermione formulated her answer. "Your home or the errands?"


"I think we should run your errands first. Today's Thursday, so my parents will be practicing late; they won't be home until around eight, eight-thirty depending on the last few patients," Hermione said, scrunching her nose. She hated dentists; not her parents, but the ones they'd sent her to. All old men who only used the "oldest and best" ways to fix her teeth. She'd have to thank Draco Malfoy some day for cursing her teeth; she'd gone to Infirmary to fix them, and a little white lie had gotten her perfect teeth.


"Remind me what kind of healers your parents are, Hermione," Severus said, turning the broom slightly, into the direction that would best lead them to Diagon Alley and its darker sister, Knockturn Alley. He hadn't told Hermione they'd be visiting the darker side of wizards' London; he hadn't wanted to deal with her sensibilities earlier.


"They aren't 'healers', Severus. They're muggle teeth-doctors, dentists," Hermione said. "And when we get to my parents' home, I think you should stay outside until I tell you to come in. And we should land well away from the house, and take the robes off or transfigure them into muggle jackets."


Severus frowned. He'd never met the Grangers outside of an emergency meeting a few months ago, to let them know their daughter would be fine, and the battle was going their way. The Grangers had been too scared and worried to talk to him much. He had the feeling he might not like them too much. Hermione's stress was palpable, and he knew that he was only part of it.


"You know best how to handle them. I leave it in your hands, then. Tuck back in; we'll be moving a bit faster and then we'll arrive in about another half hour," Severus said, dropping the subject. Hermione was still tense, and he could feel the sorrow emanating from her. Sighing, he did what h knew he shouldn't. Legilimens!


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* Hermione's thoughts *


"Mum, Da, I thought I'd pick up Crooks for the summer, so that I won't forget him or have to send for him later," Hermione said to her parents, who'd taken on a dark cast in her thoughts.


"That fleabag? We gave him away. He's shredded his last robe," Nathaniel Granger sneered.


"Crooks? You gave my Crookshanks away? He's my familiar!" Hermione cried, and her mother snorted.


"Yes. A familiar, to a witch. You'd do best to choose now, Hermione-girl. Witch-hood or being one of us. I'm sure your fiancé would tell you the same," Jane Granger snarled at her daughter.


"You're wrong! You don't even know Ron!" Hermione cried, and her parents laughed.


"You think we're stupid, do you? We know you're marrying that nasty old man, your teacher! Dirty, dirty girl. The man of your dreams is nothing more than a pedophile! You were his student. I bet he planned this," Nathaniel Granger said, his eyes dark.


"NO! It was a mistake. I tried to fix it, but I can't! And Severus is not a pedophile, not one bit! We're trying to make the best of this," Hermione tried to reason with her parents, but they cackled at her. She turned around and called for Severus. "Tell them! Tell them we're trying to make the best of what we've been given!"


In Hermione's nightmare, Severus was unbuckling his belt, throwing off his robes. He grabbed her and threw her down, smacking her hard across the face.


His face was in hers, spittle covering her face as he spat the words at her.


"No, my dear fiancée, they are quite right. And there's only one thing to be done about it," he hissed, ripping her clothing from her. "Open wide, witch."


* end Hermione's thoughts *


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Severus fairly jumped out of Hermione's waking nightmare. She was screaming, and he cast a wandless Calming Charm on her, allowing her to break away from the prison of her thoughts.


She calmed and the charm faded. She refused to look at him for the remainder of the flight. She clutched his shirt while trying to keep her distance. It was a sad sight; she feared him, truly feared that all the whispers over the years were true, but then at the same time, he was the only comfort and protection she had.


But she thinks I'm a monster, the black bat from the dungeons, ready to take whatever is in front of me, Severus thought, a strange sadness overtaking him. He mentally sighed as they descended in an alley a few blocks from the entrance to Diagon Alley. He gently rubbed Hermione's shoulder to get her to release his shirt.


"Hermione," he said, planting his feet but allowing the broom to hover until she was fully roused. "Come on, we're here."


Hermione shook herself violently, looking around to gauge her surroundings. She climbed off the broom, staying close to Severus. She recognized where they were, but she was confused.


"I thought we were just going to Diagon Alley, Severus," Hermione said, retaining her death-grip on his shirt. "This is a walk to the entrance."


"I know. Let go of my shirt," Severus said, and she did as asked. She suddenly looked so lost he found his hand grabbing hers, offering comfort yet again. "I wanted to get you something, but it isn't something we can get in Diagon Alley."


Hermione stared at him. He was venturing into muggle London, with her by his side, no less, to procure something for her?


"Where are we going, Severus? And what are you buying? Don't we have to go to Gringott's first to get muggle currency?" Hermione asked, full of questions and more like herself than she'd been since she'd found out she was marrying Severus.


"I was wondering when the Hermione I've known would rear her bushy head," Severus said, almost smiling. "To answer your questions, in order: I know and you don't need to, something for you, and I have an account set up, so no, no need to go to Gringott's right now. Onward."


Severus cast a glamour over the two of them until they reached the store he needed. Hermione laughed when she saw the store front.


"A Sony outlet, Severus? What do I need from there?" Hermione asked, smiling.


"It occurred to me that while I have sound systems in my rooms, my study, and that ancient system in the music room, I have not provided one for you. I have a connection here, a squib from a family that I knew long ago, and he takes care of everything. He works at this store and as a covert muggleborn-liason for Gringott's. I would like to provide you with everything you need for your own musical tastes," Severus said, and Hermione shook her head.


"You can't just spend on me, Severus. Besides, I'll be doing a lot of work this summer," Hermione said, and Severus shook his head right back at her.


"I have plenty of money, witch, and you don't get to tell me how I can spend it, not yet, at least. And if you can't just accept this outing, take it as my engagement gift to you," Severus said, and Hermione smiled.


"I don't even get to try to change your mind?"


"No. Now come on, Halain is only working for a little while longer."


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AN: Okay, that one was 14 pages in word. Yay! Next chapter: The Outing!


And btw: wasn't getting there half the fun?