She Said What?

how remarkable is this? look! a new chapter! its proof that miracles do happen. i know its been a while and i apologize for this. there isn't anything i can say that will excuse it, but i hope you'll forgive me for it anyway. i won't bore you with too much blathering, so we'll get right to it. i don't own anything you see here other than the idea. everything else comes from the brilliant mind of j.k. rowling and i'm only borrowing from her. i promise i'll put them back. eventually. no, really. i will. scout's honor. oh, and i'm not making money from this. this is purely for my, and your, enjoyment.

will there be smut? will there be angst? will there be diabolical one up manship? stay tuned to find out. i'm just going to lay a blanket warning and advise you to be on the lookout for any and everything imaginable. there. 'nuff said.

and, as a last note, if you find you like this, please leave me a review and let me know. as ever, they're always appreciated, but never required.

Chapter Twenty: How Much Longer Will This Go On?
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The closet was peaceful and dark when Harry pulled the door shut behind him. With a sigh, he locked and warded the door, then leaned against it. He was free of Hermione at last. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to be lulled by the silence around him. After a few, lovely moments, he heard a flame flicker to life. A soft glow touched his eyelids, letting him know there was some light, so he opened his eyes and found himself nearly nose to nose with Draco. He smiled softly. 'That bad, love?' Draco asked him softly, one hand motioning to the thick pallet of blankets he'd laid down for them.

Harry gave him a smile and moved forward to flop onto it gracelessly. He nodded, a frown marring his face. Draco settled down next to him, one hand reaching out to wordlessly pull his lover's glasses from his face. 'She's a bloody nightmare,' Harry admitted with a shake of his head. 'I swear that I'm going to go mad from her incessant whining if she doesn't give in and shag him soon.'

'What is it this time?' Draco managed to sound put out and interested at the same time.

Pulling the blonde closer, Harry smiled and leaned down to press a quick kiss to Draco's lips. Then he lay back again and closed his eyes. Draco allowed him a few moments to lay and relax, to collect his wits. 'They're on a power trip again,' he began.

'What else is new?' Draco smirked. Harry rolled his eyes at the blonde, then reached up and dragged his boyfriend down to lay next to him. 'So what is the git up to this time?'

'Actually,' Harry drawled and reached up to scrub at his eyes. It had been a long, tiring day and he was not looking forward to the evening meal. 'This is her doing. The selfish wench, she's got me so wound up, I don't know how I'm ever going to unwind.'

'Is being her boyfriend that difficult?' Draco asked, rolling up onto his side so that he could trail his hand down over Harry's chest. Even through the thick jumper and the button down shirt beneath it, he could feel the hard planes of the Golden Boy's chest. Though Harry was small in build, he was muscular. Years of Quidditch had done that for him. Draco loved the feel of those muscles beneath his hands and wrapped so tightly around him.

'You have no bloody idea,' Harry replied with a heavy sigh. 'Don't get me wrong. I don't mind helping her out. But.... She's a bloody bitch right now. She won't let Snape near her because she says he doesn't see her as anything more than a sperm bank.'

'I'm sure that's gone over smashingly,' Draco couldn't help but laugh. At the glower from Harry, he sobered his face and tried his best to look sympathetic.

'Well, she launched a campaign to prove to him that he needed her in his life for more than shagging,' Harry told his boyfriend. The comment was met with pure silence for a fraction of a moment, then Draco was laughing long and loud. The dark headed Gryffindor reached over and smacked his Slytherin lover across the chest with one hand. Draco grunted, his laughter breaking off into chuckles. He slid his arms around Harry and drew him closer in silent apology.

'And how has that been going?' Draco asked him seriously

'Well, so far,' Harry drew a breath, then turned his head so that he could bury his nose in the pale flesh of Draco's throat. A sound of pleasure vibrated up his throat as he inhaled the fresh, musky scent that lingered there. 'Merlin, I want to eat you.'

'Later, darling. First, tell me about Granger and her trials with Snape,' Draco instructed, pressing a kiss to Harry's forehead, laying his lips down right on top of the lightning bolt scar. Harry sighed and pressed closer to Draco, warmth spreading through his veins at the feel of those soft lips against his skin. Even though it was a simple kiss, it took Harry several moments to clear his head so that he could think again.

'Where was I?' he asked, only half joking. Draco gave him an indulgent smile.

'Granger and Snape,' he prompted, reaching up to idly stroke the messy black bangs off of Harry's forehead. Harry closed his eyes, a rumble rolling up his throat that gave voice to how he felt. 'Tell me what those two are doing to make each other so miserable.'

'Hermione won't let Snape have sex with her until he can see her as something other than a sex object,' Harry began again. 'She decided to prove to him that he needs her in his life by making it a living hell. The day before yesterday, she hexed his potions supplies as well as his desk. Everything in his closet lost its label, was in a brown jar and smelled of cinnamon. And she made a complete shambles of his desk.'

'I'm sure that went over like a turd in a punch bowl,' Draco commented with a faint grimace. He knew Snape well enough to know that the man would take such an attack as personal and would likely respond in kind.

'It did. She came to the breakfast table squirming. By the time we had Potions, she couldn't sit still. It turns out that the greasy git laid a charm into her knickers. She was so horny last night, I thought she'd definitely be pounding down his door.'

'Judging by the look on your face, I believe its safe to assume that she didn't,' Draco lifted a brow. Harry shook his head in the negative. 'Bugger. She could stand a good shagging. She's as uptight as a virgin arsehole in prison.'

'Draco!' Harry slapped his hand, his tone suggesting he didn't see the same humor in the statement that his partner did. The blonde Slytherin merely shrugged, then gave his partner a look that said to get on with it. Harry heaved a sigh and shook his head. 'Yesterday, as you saw, it was little mistakes here and there. Nothing huge, but just enough to irritate the hell out of him.'

'Yes, I noticed he was a touch snarkier than usual,' Draco nodded.

'Apparently, she'd charmed his board to do that all day long. He had students asking him about mistakes in every class,' Harry sighed. 'I don't know why she doesn't go talk to him instead of all this silly spell casting.'

'Because she's thick, Potter. You should know this,' Draco commented, mostly to see his lover get angry. The sex was guaranteed to be better if he did so. As expected, Harry gave him a look that made Draco smile, a faint chuckle shaking his shoulders. 'So,' he drawled. 'What was my Head of House's response to this?'

'Hermione's been walking around all day with invisible fingers and lips working at her nipples. She brushed against my arm when sitting down for the evening meal and nearly burst into tears,' Harry shook his head. 'One of them needs to give in soon. She needs to get laid so bad, it isn't funny. And a good shag would undoubtably put him in a better mood.'

'Granger has to know that Snape can out spell her six ways from Sunday. The man knows all there is to know and then some,' Draco frowned. 'Silly woman. She'll never know what hit her.'

'Yes she does. That's why she has been the epitome of a Know-It-All today. All day long. She took every advantage she could to let him know that she has so much information in his head. She's giving me a bloody headache, Draco. I can't take much more of this.'

'He's going to do something wicked to her. Something positively wicked. And she's going to hate him for it. I promise you, Harry. Its coming,' Draco warned him. Harry groaned, then rolled into Draco so that his face was hidden in the blonde's chest.

'I can't do it anymore. I just can't do it,' he whined tiredly. Lifting his head, he pinned Draco with an emerald gaze. Hope swam in his eyes. 'Please, Draco. Can't I hide in the Slytherin Common Room?'

'Only if you plan on getting beaten up,' Draco replied, then smiled. 'I don't think my classmates will understand if I beat them up for beating you up.'

'Bugger,' Harry sighed. Draco rolled over on top of him, pinning him to the floor with his body. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to Harry's lips. When he lifted his head, there was a smirk on his face.

'If you insist, Potter.'

~*~*~*~*~

The air was still warm from the afternoon sun, but night's approach had already started cooling it down. The castle had seemed stuffy and loud and, in a fit of agitation, Hermione had sought the out of doors. She'd been in the library, attempting to study for the coming exams, when she'd felt eyes on her back. Looking around had shown her that there had been more than one set of eyes upon her. Granted, she'd been squirming in her chair. But that didn't give them the right to stare at her as if she were some kind of exhibit in a museum.

Damn Severus! She'd thought that the enchanted knickers were bad. She'd thought he wouldn't be able to outdo himself. And then she'd put her bra on and been treated to the distracting and intriguing sensation of lips and fingers on her nipples. She'd thought nothing could be worse than the spell on her knickers. Sadly, she was wrong. She hadn't understood until her bra had started making love to her nipples just what torture was. Because each stroke, each suckling caress, had driven a shot of pure lust into her crotch but, unlike yesterday, there'd been no ghostly appendages to fill the empty places. And it was all she could do to find a way to focus on anything that didn't involve a flat surface, her husband and a very large container of lubrication. If this kept up, he was going to need it because she would happily fuck his equipment off to find satisfaction.

What kind of perverted ass did something like this to a woman? If she wasn't clenching her fists in an attempt to hold herself as still as she could, she was biting holes into her lower lip to keep from moaning and whimpering out loud. Oh, he was going to pay for this. She was going to launch a full blown war on her husband. All she needed do was find the right spell to do the trick. Or curse. At this point, she didn't care what she used on him so long as he realized that she was not a woman to be trifled with.

'Stupid twat,' she snarled when the ghostly mouth at her breast chose that moment to suck on her nipple rather hard. Several pairs of eyes turned to look at her. She glowered at them, a look that would have done her snarky husband proud, and sent the gathering of first and second years running for the security of the castle. When they were gone, she heaved a sigh and flopped down under a tree. The limbs were low here and she was partially hidden from view. The spot offered her a slight sense of privacy. Curling her legs up under her so that she was less visible from view, she closed her eyes and tried to sort out the curious things that ran through her brain.

The day had started with such promise. Her plans of showing Severus just how much he'd miss her if she weren't in his daily life were, she thought, working. Granted, she couldn't read him at the best of times. The only expressions she'd seen on his face had been his anger and his lust. Anger had made him seem even more cold and harsh, thinning the lines of his narrow face down further until he looked unreachable. She knew, having spent the past seven years in his class, that the man had thick, tall walls that couldn't be breached with a pretty face, a mere smile or a quick romp in the sack.

No, there were depths to the man she called husband, an iron will that ruled so fiercely that she thought perhaps he'd forgotten what life was supposed to be like. She'd never seen joy on his face, never seen him smile with anything other than malicious intent. Severus Snape was a complete and total enigma. There was so much about him that she couldn't even begin to guess at. He had a brilliant mind, naturally. And he was as rude and rotten as they came. But there had to be more to him and it struck her, sitting in her near hiding place and attempting to ignore the deliciously wicked sensations running up and down her body, that she knew as little about him as he did about her. Curiously, she realized that she wanted to discover those things.

Shaking her head, she frowned at the idea. Snape would never let her in. He might give in and realize that he needed to make an attempt at getting to know his wife. But he would never, ever, under any circumstances, let her do the same with him. He would always be the undiscovered country that she could only dream of conquering. And she had to be stark raving mad to want to attempt it in the first place.

Her frustration mounted when she considered the day that had almost finished. She'd started the day off with high hopes and had, long before anyone else was up, risen to start her third day of battle. After a quick shower and a short chat in which her mirror had told her point blank that she looked like hell, Hermione had slipped out of the Gryffindor Common Rooms and headed for the very bowels of the castle. She'd been relieved to find that Peeves hadn't been in the hallway outside of Severus' classroom. Even more interesting was finding that the door to Potions hadn't been locked. She'd slipped inside and stared for a few moments, taking a good look at the large room where much of her learning had come from. With a start, she'd realized that she was going to miss it. Just as she was going to miss all of her other teachers and classses.

But this one, she'd decided quietly, would always hold a special place in her heart. And then she had frowned and set about preparing herself for the day.

It hadn't been anything special. No spells to foul up his classroom. Nothing that would throw his perfectly ordered world into a tailspin. Instead, she'd used a spell she'd found that would give her the knowledge that had been stored in the room. The knowledge he'd passed on to countless students before her and the many that would come after her. She'd given the spell long, hard consideration before deciding to use it. Her plans hadn't called for cheating and she'd felt it wouldn't be right to do so. She'd only wanted a slight edge so that she could properly show him that she truly was the 'insufferable Know-It-All' he'd once accused her of being.

The spell, once cast, would only last as long as the day and would grant her the knowledge held in the room she cast in it. Which was why she'd gone directly to the classroom. Much of what had come flooding into her head was already known to her, but there were some things that she hadn't known and that, she thought, would help prove her point. He'd come to expect that she would answer any questions no one else in the class could. It was something, small as it was, that he knew of her. And she'd planned on showing him that it was as much an intregal part of her as her name or her appearance.

She didn't know if he had come to any conclusions about Hermione, his wife. She knew that he'd made his mind up who Hermione, his student, was years ago. More than likely on the very first day she'd stepped foot into his class. And that was the image she knew she needed to drive from his mind. It was ironic that she was using that very image to change how he preceived her. But still, short of tying him up and forcing him to hear the story of her life, she didn't know what else to do that would be effective. He thought her to be little more than an annoying show off, a girl who had all the answers. Maybe she was. But she was going to prove to him that those tendencies would go a long way toward imprinting the real Hermione Granger Snape in his mind. Not the one he lusted after.

Lust. That was a big part of their relationship and the problem. While she'd never considered herself beautiful, she'd never really thought she was repugnant. She felt she had average looks and if that wasn't enough for men, then so be it. She didn't need them. She didn't need any of them. She'd been young when she'd caught the eye of Viktor Krum. And she'd been very flattered that he'd taken an interest in her. That one moment had proven to her that she was someone men could find attractive. But it had given her something that she would always thank Viktor for. It had given her the confidence to believe in who she was.

At a time when all of the girls her age had been more concerned with boys than with books, she'd felt even more awkward than before. She'd secretly wondered if there was something wrong with being smart, with owning a love for books such as she had. Viktor had proved to her that brains were just as beautiful as outward appearance. And now, she was going to prove it to Severus. Whether he wanted her to or not. She knew he'd come to lust after her body, albeit grudgingly. That had been more than obvious to her in the manner with which he'd stalked her and then claimed her as his own. Wife or not, he'd found that he appreciated her curves and softness. And now, she'd cut him off from that.

Merlin, the sex was going to be fantastic when they had it again. She shuddered at the thought, her breasts giving a tight tingle in anticipation, then frowned again. If they ever had it. Severus did have thick skull. She was starting to feel it might take him forever to realize that she was a person, with thoughts and feelings and emotions. She was good for more than just sex. She only had to make him see that.

She hoped today had helped in that. Standing in his classroom in the early hours of the morning, she'd felt a fleeting flash of hope. The knowledge contained in his room had been thick and heavy and it had filled her to near capacity. And it had known her nearly as intimately as a lover. It had been easy to take it all and hold it inside of her. She had, for a few moments, felt giddy with her accomplishment. But then she'd remembered her purpose and had slipped from the room without a sound. She'd had plans for the knowledge and she had to go prepare herself for the day. It was going to be a battle of wills once more.

It had been more than a battle of wills. She hadn't counted on having to contend with her own desires. It had been shortly after her visit to his classroom that she'd felt the first stirrings of something at her breasts. The day before had left her a little wary and so she'd paid attention to the slight sensations. Ron had given her a curious look at breakfast when she'd finally realized the full potential of the situation and had cursed rather loudly so that one and all could hear her. A glance at the staff table had shown her a rather smug looking Potions Master. She'd wished she could slap him right then and there. And she'd wished she could straddle him and ride him until her head exploded. Bastard. She'd known then she was going to enjoy, for once, being the Know-It-All.

The day had been trying. Between trying not to squirm and trying not to picture herself naked, Snape's dark head between her thighs, she'd had a hard time with not snapping at people or looking at them with such lust that they'd think her demented. By the time Potions had rolled around, she'd been on the verge of murder or rape. She hadn't been able to decide which one would make her feel better. The superior look on Snape's face when he'd entered had leant her toward murder.

But that superior look had been gone by the time the class had finished. The spell she'd cast had come into play nicely and she'd had answers for everything he'd asked, sometimes before he'd even finished asking the question. His smug look had vanished into confusion, faint though it was, with each of the answers she'd given. Everyone else in the class, though, had been shocked and amused by her little display. Eventually, they'd simply stopped trying to answer and had all looked to her through the lecture, awaiting her answers. She'd known that would only serve to upset him more. It had worked, too. By the time she'd packed up her books, he'd looked quite vexed, as if he hadn't been able to figure out what it was she'd done.

Her smugness had only lasted until the moment she'd walked out of the room. Then she'd been back to suffering in silence and the lips and fingers that played with her breasts had suddenly become merciless. Harry had moved to stand next to her, silently taking up his duty as her boyfriend. He'd given her looks, but had said nothing. That, she'd decided, was because of the dark expression on her face. Ron had unwisely commented that she looked ready to murder anyone who upset her. It it hadn't have been for Harry, she might have tested that theory then and there.

The three of them had remained silent as they'd headed up for the evening meal.

Hermione had decided, as she'd sat and picked at her meal, that she'd be able to withstand any torture she might ever be put through. After Severus' wicked little spells, she thought she could handle anything. It had been heartening, though, to look up at the large table where he sat and find that there had been a faint furrow of confusion to his face as he'd stared at her. It hadn't been so noticeable that anyone would see it. But she'd had ample opportunity to study his face and so she was able to note the slight changes that other people wouldn't. It was rather heartening to know that she may have been able to plant some doubt in his mind. Sharp as he was, she didn't think that he'd reason out right away the need for them to know one another in more than just the physical sense.

She hadn't realized she'd spaced out until Harry had nudged her and nodded his head to Ginny, who'd repeated her question for the fifth time with an air of resigned disgust in her voice. It had been then that she'd figured out that her mind was too occupied with thoughts of Severus, too filled with the feelings coursing through her, to be much company to her friends. She'd made her apologies to them all, then excused herself without touching her plate any further. Her appetite had fled in the face of her emotional turmoil. She'd hoped that a trip to the library would soothe her battered senses and give her the ability to think on something, anything, other than Severus and just how badly she wanted it to be his fingers and lips upon her breasts in place of the ghostly ones that were there now.

The library had been a flop. From the moment she'd sat down with a book, she'd been unable to do anything but think about having Severus' hands upon her body. About his mouth moving across her flesh, leaving a burning trail of need in its wake. And that, in turn, made the lips and fingers ghosting over her nipples work that much harder. It was no wonder the others trying to study had stared at her so intently. She'd squirmed and wiggled in her seat, trying to find some relief. Nothing had come her way and, in the end, she'd decided she'd been more of a disturbance to the others. So she'd left the library and come out here.

She had to admit that the cool night air did go a bit toward helping cool off her heated blood. While the need to be in Severus' arms was still there, it wasn't so consuming that she couldn't see past it. Heaving a sigh, Hermione stared blindly out at the encroaching darkness. Once upon a time, her life had been so simple. Even with Ron and Harry as her best friends, her life had been simple. Her plans had revolved around studying, passing every class with the highest grades, reading any book that fell into her grasp and do what ever it took to keep her two best friends alive and out of trouble. So far, she'd done a bloody good job of all of that. Now, though, she didn't know what plans to make.

She was a married woman. That was supposed to play into her plans somehow. But she was married to a man who didn't like her very much. He obviously enjoyed shagging her. But he didn't actually like her. Maybe, when they were in bed, he didn't see Hermione Granger. Maybe he saw someone else. Somehow, the thought made her feel worse than she felt it should. Before she could dwell too long and too deeply on the whys of such a thing, she shoved it away and gave her mind back over to what it was she was supposed to do now.

Her frown returned, forming creases in her forehead while pulling the corners of her mouth down. She was a married woman and married women were supposed to prepare themselves for life with their husbands. Hermione thought she should be thrilled and working toward packing her things so she could move into Snape's home with him. Where ever that might be. But he'd made no comment at all on their living arrangements. Short of his well verbalized dislike of her and the rather nasty things he'd said in the middle of mind-blowing sex, he'd actually spoken little to her at all. And here it was, only a hanful of days before the N.E.W.T.s. Something told her that moving in with him was likely to take an act of government. Or the gods. Or Dumbledore.

Did she want to move in with him? Did she want to live with him? Married or not, the two of them didn't get along well. It was like putting gasoline on a fire. They were compatible, but in all the wrong ways. All that happened when the two of them came together was an explosion of tempers. Sometimes, an explosion of other things. But that wasn't nearly enough to consider as basis for living with a man who had never once made claims on having any sort of pleasant emotions. She honestly didn't know if he even had a home outside of Hogwarts. Somehow, she couldn't see living in the dungeons with him when the next term started. Oh, that would go over with the school governors so well. Hermione snorted, a not very feminine sound, and shook her head.

It was official. Her entire life had been, with a few short words, made into a goat fuck of epic proportions. Somewhere, someone was laughing heartily at her dilema. She should put his or her eye out with a bloody stick, the selfish bastard. What kind of life was she supposed to have with Severus Snape? The man was brilliant and more than capable in so many arenas. But he was as socially inept as she was and, not to put too fine a point on it, he was a snarky old git. What a pair the two of them would make.

For a moment, she gave into self-pity and despair. What kind of life would she ever have with a man such as Severus Snape? He cared nothing for her. He only viewed her as property. As far as she could tell, she had no place in his life beyond the confines of his bed. It was so unfair. Because she knew, despite what her friends thought of her, she had so much to offer.

Hermione knew that, while her friends cared about her, they didn't think very highly of her chances with the opposite sex. Ron especially felt that she needed their help with men. Though it seemed he more than approved of her dating Harry. She honestly wondered what his reaction would be when he discovered that, in reality, Harry was as queer as they came and desperately in love with his arch-nemesis. Something told her that Ron's world would come crashing down around his head the moment that truth leaked. She didn't think he'd take her marriage to his most hated teacher any better. The image of his reaction to both sets of news put a smile on her face for a few brief moments.

The smile faded, though, when she put her mind back onto the topic at hand. What was she to do with herself now that she was married to a man who didn't want her? For a moment or two, she faltered as she considered the problem. Then the more logical side of her brain took over and told her firmly that she would go on about her life as she'd planned, married or not. Being wife to Severus Snape made no difference in what she wanted to do, wanted to see. In what she wanted to accomplish. When and if, and that was an awfully big if, he ever came around to thinking that Hermione Granger Snape was more than a warm body to plow into when the need took him, she'd consider what she was going to do then.

With a course finally decided upon, it was as if a great weight was lifted from her shoulders. And she realized that, for several long moments, she'd forgotten all about the ghostly fingers and lips living in her bra. With that realization came the return, full force, of said tormentors. She muttered a curse under her breath and decided that the only way to get rid of the damned problem was to go shed her clothes. Maybe she'd get lucky and Snape would spend his night in his rooms, alone and in sexual agony. That thought made her smile. Hermione, bent to avoid hitting her head on the low hanging limbs, climbed out from under the tree to find a pair of legs standing before her. Said legs were encased in black and she frowned.

'Out past curfew, Miss Granger? That is an offense punishable by detention.'

Hermione frowned. 'I don't think that matters at the moment. Considering I had to come out here to escape the circus that my life has become, most of which is because of you, you can serve any damned detention you want to give me,' she snapped at him. Her temper seemed to make him all the more snarky and a faint grin lifted his lips.

'One would think, Miss Gragner,' he said, making sure to put emphasis on her name. 'That you are in desperate need of relief.'

She boggled at him, unable to believe that he was even daring to suggest it.

Obviously, he took her boggling as confusion, because he went on to explain himself. 'Sexual relief, Miss Granger. You have a look about you that says you need a man to lay you out and forcefully drive himself up into your willing body.'

Hermione glared at him, knowing the tactic for what it was. He'd lowered his voice until it was little more than a silky caress on the evening wind, the mere sound of it wrapping around her body to make her want him there and now. As he spoke, the fingers and lips that had been with her all day became much more intent in their purpose and it took every ounce of strength she possessed to keep from shuddering at the sensual assault. In the dimming light, she saw his gaze flick around them quickly, then he stepped into her so that their bodies almost touched. His breath was scalding as it plumed across her cheek. 'There is no one here, Hermione. Just picture it. The two of us, under that tree. Your pale skin glowing in the darkness while I bury myself between your thighs. While I.... fuck you just the way you like me to.'

'Keep dreaming, Professor Snape,' she hissed at him, stepping back from the heat of his body. If she didn't think it would be telling, she'd wrap her arms around her in protection. Instead, she mimicked his most favorite pose and crossed her arms over her chest. 'As you well know, it isn't allowed for students to fraternize with the staff in such a manner. Good evening.'

Without another word, she hurried past him toward the castle. She was only a handful of steps away when his voice stopped her. 'Remember one thing, Miss Granger,' he called after her in the dark, his voice so soft that she was surprised she even heard it. She didn't bother to turn around. 'You will not be a student for much longer. Good evening and I hope you sleep well.'

Hermione frowned and started back toward the stone building before her. She kept her back ramrod straight and her eyes straight ahead. There was no way she was going to respond to his words and there was certainly no way she was going to let him see any kind of reaction. Damned arrogant, insufferable arse. If he thought she'd come running to him, he had another bloody thing coming.

~*~

Severus watched her go, a frown on his face. He didn't understand why she was fighting it. Why she was fighting him. It was more than obvious that, despite their dislike of one another, there was some form of attraction there. The two of them seemed to fit together perfectly whilst naked and in the throes of passion. Personally, he felt that the gods had been rather perverse in that arena. He'd never before found himself so attracted physically to any one woman. Certainly not to one who was as insufferable Know-It-All like her. And yet, he found that he couldn't stop himself from mentally wandering into what should have been forbidden territory.

He knew he should be angry with her. And, to some extent, he was. She'd done just about everything she could think of to ruin his week. First had been the disorder of his desk and the way she'd changed every one of his potions ingredients. Then had been the little mistakes on his blackboard. Mistakes he knew he hadn't made. Today had been the worst of it all. She'd done everything she could to show him up in his classroom. He still didn't know how she'd done it, but she'd known everything before he'd spoken it. She'd made him look like a bloody idiot in front of his students because he was sure he'd stood there, mouth gaping open a time or two, before he'd recovered himself.

Damn her, why was she being so stubborn? It was more than obvious that they enjoyed sex with one another. Perhaps he did more so than she. Still, he'd be mad to deny that they were good together. Based on her reactions to their encounters, she wasn't unaffected by him. So what the bloody hell had possessed her to cut him off as she had? He growled at nothing and stalked off into the deepening shadows. Night was falling fast and, in a short time, he would be patrolling the halls. As the year closed out, the older students felt that they could get away with murder. He always found the horny little morons making out madly in the darkened corners. Docking points so late in the year always gave him a feeling of completion.

He growled when a small voice piped up and said that docking points couldn't compare to finding his release within his errant wife. Hermione was, he had to admit, quite the wanton when she wanted to be. He'd thought, at the moment when they'd been pronounced a couple, that she would be stiff and unyeilding for the rest of her days. It had been something of a relief to find that she was quite warm and welcoming when it came to intimacy. He'd had his doubts. He could admit that. Now. After they'd shagged their way across his private chambers. He'd really feared, when he'd been so hot for her, that she'd be little more than a cold fish beneath him.

With a sigh, he moved furhter into the darkness. She'd been a very awkward girl when she'd first come to Hogwarts. He knew that the other students of her year, Draco in particular, had scoffed at her from day one. With an abundance of bushy hair, a set of rather oversized front teeth and her inability to not keep her hand at her side, she'd always struck him as being one of those bookish types. Rather like Trelawney, the old hack. Or Minerva. A flash of the one image he'd carved from her mind rose up to taunt him and he wished he had an industrial sized bottle of bleach to scour the folds of his brain.

The idea of Hermione Granger retiring to some small cottage at the end of the lane in a small village, completely dotty in her old age and surrounded by a plethora of stinking, mewling cats, had been one he'd carried in his mind since that very first day. Bloody mean cats, too. Ones that would bite and scratch with no provocation. It had once, in the very wee hours of the morning on the weekends and when he was well into his cups, given him such perverse pleasure that he'd smiled for hours on end like a complete idiot. The image had faded over time, particularly since they'd been forcibly wed at the end of the Ministry's collective wand tip. Had he known before what kind of hot and horny woman she'd prove to be, he might have.....

Might have what? Married her of his own free will? Jumped her bones that much earlier? The thought stopped him cold and he scowled at himself in the darkness. There was no way, not in the seven levels of Hell, that he'd ever.... EVER... been attracted to Hermione Granger. No. Just as he wasn't attracted to her now. No, this was more a case of availabilty. She was there and he was horny. She would do. The fact that he enjoyed using her in such a manner was nothing to worry over. It was secondary, part of the fact that she was there and available. Only she wasn't there and she wasn't available. She had withdrawn herself from him and he was now aching to be inside of her.

Bloody hell, he missed the annoying woman.

That thought stopped him cold. When had he started thinking of Hermione Granger as a woman? The moment they'd married? No. He could honestly say that it hadn't been then. He'd still seen her as a girl, a mere child. Not to mention she was one of his students. Their relationship was so very much against every moral he'd ever had. Not to mention the school rules. Frowning, he paced in a circle, his motions mimicking his mind. No, it hadn't been when they'd married. He'd wanted nothing to do with her then.

It had to have been at some point during that initial week, when they'd done their best to get one up on the other. The memory of their twisted little tricks on one another sent a flood of blood to his groin and his cock, traitorous organ that it was, went stiff in a moment. Bugger, he needed to shag. He had a wife that he could engage in such an activity with. But she'd gotten up on her high horse and was completely with holding herself from him. That was something he couldn't figure out. She was an intelligent woman. Surely she could see the benefits of a mutual relationship, like the one they'd been indulging in previously. They filled needs within one another and there was nothing wrong with that. Or so he'd thought.

Then his wife had gone postal and had denied him the one thing that he'd wanted of her. Her body, naked and pliant beneath his own. Was it too much to ask that she be willing to give in to his physical demands? He frowned and shook his head. She'd already given in to his physical demands. Time and time again, she'd been wild and wet and wicked beneath him. Sitting in his lap. Up against the book shelf. What had happened that she'd felt the need to put a wall up between them. It wasn't as if she really wanted the marriage. No more so than he did. Did she expect him to woo her? To buy her flowers and candies and write sonnets in her name. Not bloody likely. If she thought that, she didn't know him very well.

He stopped mid-stride and stared out into the night. She didn't know him at all. Every time they'd gotten together, they'd done little talking. In point of fact, he'd been more interested in having sex than in speaking to his wife. And, puzzling it over for a few moments, he realized that he didn't know much more about her than her full name, who her best friends were and what kind of student she was. He knew nothing of her family or home life. He didn't really know anything about his wife. Just as she didn't know him.

Turning to pace back toward the castle, he gave all of it some consideration. He did know that Hermione had a clever mind. That much was obvious in her choice of tactics this week. He suspected that Minerva was partially responsible. But still, his wife had done her damnedest to make his life hell by completely screwing it up in strange, intelligent ways. Not that he'd ever doubted her intelligence before, but this had left him with the realization that, of all the students he'd ever taught, she was the one who would stick in his mind most. Whether they'd married or not, he would very likely never forget her. Because her mind was too much like his own. In many ways, she was too much like him.

Severus turned this over and gave it all of his attention. He'd never admit to doing it to anyone, but he put himself in her shoes. He knew he was a rather unappealing catch. He was older than she was, older than she perhaps deserved. He was not very handsome. But he was smart and he understood the way people thought and the way they worked. It was what had made him so damned good as a spy. He didn't think his wife would engage in such odd little adventures without good reason. He was more than certain that she wouldn't risk raising his ire by commiting such minor crimes for nothing.

So what was she trying to tell him? Hermione Jane Granger, one of the three biggest banes of his teaching career, was shaping up to be a rather attractive young woman. And she was a puzzle like none he'd ever seen before. For some reason beyond his fathoming, she was testing him. She wanted something from him, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Yet. But he had time to think it over. School wasn't due to be let out for another week. He would figure this puzzle out.

He told himself didn't care about her reasoning in this matter. After all, he hadn't wanted her for his wife. But she'd thrown down the white gauntlet in challenge. There was never a time in his life when he'd simply backed away from a challenge. He had little choice but to pick it up and prepare himself for battle. He smiled to himself. Not a very nice smile. It was a smile of knowing. His wife was about to meet her match. Whether she knew it or not, he was going to win this fight. And when he did.....

Ah, revenge would be all the sweeter.

With a frightening spring in his step, Severus finished his trek back to castle. With malicious glee, he went about his task of patrolling the halls. When all was said and done, he'd taken a goodly amount of House points and had issued detentions to one and all. It had been a good night and, with a sense of accomplishment, he climbed into his bed with a smirk on his face.

~*~*~*~*~

The library was quiet, the shadows growing long with the setting sun. The year was finally over. They'd had their exams this week and now, there was little time left before Hermione stepped across the castle's threshold for the last time. She was, she decided, both excited and depressed about such a thing. On the one hand, it meant that it was truly time to start her life as an adult. On the other, it meant leaving behind good friends and good times. All this despite the dangers she'd faced as Harry's friend. It was all well and truly over.

A sigh left her and she closed the book in her hands. She couldn't keep her mind on what was written across the pages anyway. Night was falling, the darkness inching closer and closer. She didn't mind. But it meant that everyone who'd been outside for the day would be coming inside. Hopefully, they'd all go to the end of year celebration Dumbledore had planned. All she wanted was peace and quiet. Perhaps, if she had that, she could find some way to think upon something other than her husband.

She'd been surprised to find Severus had left her alone after her last little bit of magical ingenuity. She knew she'd annoyed him to within an inch of his life over the course of her sneaky spell casting days. Just as he'd made her hotter than the fires of hell for him. She didn't think it was a very fair exchange, in the grand scheme of things. Of course, he was the penultimate Slytherin. There was only one Slytherin who was likely sneakier than her husband and that was, of course, the man who'd founded Severus' house. Cheating was second nature to the man she was married to. She thought she might have been disappointed if he hadn't gone the route he had.

Her mind turned to the celebration that the school would be having. While part of her yearned to go, another part liked the silence and solitude that the library offered her. Earlier, before sneaking off to be with Draco, Harry had asked her if she'd be at the party. She'd given him a middle of the road answer, as she still wasn't sure if she'd go or not. For some reason, she didn't feel up to celebrating. Not just now. There were things she was still conflicted about and her husband was the first on that list. She didn't want to risk meeting up with him at the party. Talk about a big downer.

Settling the book on the shelf nearest her, Hermione moved to sit in the window at the end of the row of shelves. Outside, beyond the thick pane of glass, she could see the sun as it slid down behind the edge of the world. The sky had a thin feathering of clouds, which caught and held the dying embers of the setting sun. Close to the rim of the world, the sky was a fiery red that melted into a wide strip of deep orange. Yellow sat on top of that, with just enough of the other two colors in it to keep it from being too much a pastel. As the eyes rose up, the sky changed from yellow to light, then dark, blue. The clouds were stained a blue-purple, while pure blackness followed behind to swallow all the colors down. It would soon be night and that meant she'd be spending it alone.

Part of her disliked the idea of being alone. Most of her, though, was determined to stick to her principles. Much as she wanted to have another romp in Severus' bed, to give in now would undermine any possible chance of his realizing she was truly a person. The only way for her plan to work was to stay away from him as much as possible. It had been hard the past week or so, but she'd done it. The waiting, though, was going to drive her batty. The man wasn't this thick. She knew he wasn't. So what the hell was taking him so long to figure it out? Did this mean he'd decided that he didn't care whether or not she came back to his bed ?

Trying hard not to puzzle it over, she searched her mind for something else to think of. Something that would keep her from thinking about him. And about sex. It was hard, but she finally settled on Harry and Draco. She knew that the two of them planned on announcing their relationship to the world the moment they were officially out of school. She suspected Ron would likely go very pale for a moment, then he'd go off about how it was simply not possible that Harry Potter, his best friend, could be gay and dating his most hated school days enemy. She rather thought that, for a short time, Ron would bear the same expression upon his face that one might see upon a choking herring. The image made her giggle.

She wondered what kind of look he'd get when she told him of her marriage to his most hated teacher ever.

'Skipping the festivities, Miss Granger?' his voice purred from the shadows behind her, as if her merely thinking of him had conjured him to her side. She fought to stifle the shudder that the sound brought to life, but she couldn't. It raced up and down her spine, ending a moment before his hand curled over her shoulder. 'Your friends will not miss you?'

'I don't think so,' she shook her head, not yet daring to turn around. She was vulnerable and she knew it. Despite her desire, she simply couldn't give in to him. She'd returned to her rooms that night after meeting him on the grounds to find that an owl had been waiting for her with a package. Conqequently, she'd spent every night of the last week trying out the toy she'd ordered from McGonagall's catalogue. While it had helped chase some of the itch away, it hadn't completely satisfied her. Not like he could. And, no matter how much she wanted him, she simply couldn't forget that he needed to see her as something other than.... a sex toy. She kept her back to him and continued to face the window. She had to take a moment to gather her will before she could face him.

'Why not?'

'Harry's too busy being in love with Draco,' she replied evenly, then she shrugged. 'And Ron. Ron is just.... Ron. He wouldn't notice I was missing unless I was the one bringing the alcohol.'

'And so you hide out here in the library.' It was a statement, not a question. Again, she shrugged. It wasn't as if it was a secret that she enjoyed the companionship she found in books and could be found in the library more often than her own rooms. 'Quite the sad statement on the path your life is following, isn't it?'

There was an odd tone in his voice that forced her to turn. Severus stood at the edge of the growing shadows, staring down at her with dark, fathomless eyes. She knew it was easy to get lost in them, so she steeled herself against falling. Falling would mean disaster for her. And though there was a deep need burning in their ebony depths, his face bore an entirely different expression. One that said he was puzzled and didn't like it one bit. Because he couldn't find the answer to his questions. One that said he thought he might find them here, with her. She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest, not quite ready to believe that he was curious about her.

'The path of my life is nothing to do with you,' she returned smartly, feeling a moment of victory when the look crumbled and his face once more became the hard mask that it usually was.

'Quite the contrary,' he snapped angrily, moving to mirror her pose with one of his own. 'The path of your life is directly to do with me. Or have you forgotten, Mrs. Snape?'

'I've forgotten nothing, Professor,' she hissed, making quite certain she put as much emphasis on his title as he had on hers just a moment before. His eyes narrowed on her.

'It is my opinion that you have, my dear. Perhaps it is time for me to set the record straight in this matter,' he whispered the words at her and, before she could blink, he was standing before her. One hand reached out to grab her arm, the other moving to cup her chin. She had a moment to ponder what he intended, then he was pressed up against her. Their mouths were locked together, feeding from their mutual well of rampant desire, and Hermione simply forgot everything.

She sank willingly into his arms, her own sliding up over his shoulders, around his neck so that she could twine her fingers in his hair. His mouth was hot against hers, his breath like fire as he gave it to her. She took it willingly, took everything he had to offer and silently begged for more. He moved forward, his body driving her back until she hit the window. She grunted softly into his mouth, then groaned as his tongue gained entrance and began snaking in and out. Hers moved in time with his, their actions mimicking the one act they both wished to be engaged in.

His body pinned her to the wall, holding her in place so that his hands could explore the contours of her luscious form. Even as his hands moved down over her shoulders to curve over her breasts, somehow managing to slip between their torsos, his mouth continued to eat at her own. The feel of his lips on her own, combined with the hands that now cupped breasts gone full with aching need, were more than sufficient to drive all thoughts from her head. She'd missed this so much. She'd missed him. And it was more than obvious to her that he'd missed her, too, based on the erection that he ground against her lower belly.

Long, strong fingers squeezed at her breasts, somehow managing to pull back far enough to work her nipples into painful peaks. All she could think of was the feel of him against her. Touching her. Kissing her. Fucking her until she was mindless in her need of him and begging him loudly for more. She knew she'd do such things. Just as she knew he'd obilge her and start the pleasure all over again.

His lips broke from hers, trailing hot, moist caresses down her cheek and over her jaw. The line of her neck came next, his teeth grating furiously over the taut flesh there. Then he was trying to shove her clothes aside with his mouth and nose, trying to get at the silken length of her shoulder and collarbone. A growl of frustration rumbled up his throat and one hand moved away from her breast. It slid lower, managing to sneak between them until it came to the edge of her woolen skirt. Deft fingers drew the material up, catching it between them to hold it out of his way. She felt his fingers slide down over her panties, pressing the damp material against the swollen folds of her weeping pussy.

The portion of her brain that was rational and analytical awoke from its lust induced slumber to take note that something wasn't quite right. It was still hazy and still held the thickness that had come with rampaging lust, making her thought processes slow. His mouth moved again, this time making its way back up to her own and she felt herself succumb to her needs once more. And then his fingers were hot against her flesh, the thin cotton of her knickers no longer between them. Two fingertips were already finding their way between her lips, up into the hot core that lay beyond them. It brought everything that she was and that she stood for blazing to life. She jerked back, shoving him away from her.

He must have been startled, because he went easily. For a moment or two, while she tried to compose herself and her clothing, he merely stared at her in shock. But then, when she finally gave her attention to him, his eyes were narrowed into slits while his expression grew dark. Forboding. He was as angry as she'd ever seen him. Her body was throbbing, crying out for him to complete what he'd started, but she held herself firm.

'What the bloody hell are you doing?' he snarled at her, his voice thick with unspent lust and growing rage. She shook her head, glaring at him but unwilling to tell him what she knew he had to learn on his own. 'You are my wife. This is my right and I shall have it, damn you. Now come along. Stop your foolishness.'

'No,' she whispered, shaking her head as she did so. Hermione felt on the verge of tears. He'd never understand and she'd nearly given in to him, nearly allowed her body to make decisions it had no right to make. This little incident was proof positive that she couldn't allow herself to be alone with him. Drawing a breath, she pinned him with a fierce stare. ' Good evening, Professor. I trust you'll have a pleasant night.'

Without another backward glance, Hermione hurried away, leaving Severus to stare after her. Damned witch, who the hell did she think she was? He growled out a string of curses, low enough that he doubted anyone would hear. By then, the sun had finally fallen behind the edge of the world, leaving only a thin line of red in its wake. Red as blood and anger. Both of which were boiling inside of him. How dare she deny him as she had! She had no bloody right to keep him from her bed. She was his wife, by Merlin's hairy testicles. He was going to have to find some way to bring her back into his bed, before his cock exploded from its constant state of arousal.

Righting his clothes so that no one would be able to see the raging erection he sported, he turned and stalked from the shelves. Arrogance in each of his steps, he made his way to the door so that any who saw him would shrink back from him. Not that they didn't already. But he wanted to make doubly sure that, were he to happen across both students and staff alike, they would know good and well to leave him on his own. He needn't have bothered wasting such a good glare, as he encountered no one on his trip down to his dungeons.

Slamming into his rooms, he stalked across the carpeting for a short while, his mind working furiously over his situation. Though he was married to someone he'd never considered as marriage material, and though he was the kind of man who'd never imagined himself to get married, the fact that he was now caught in the matrimonial trap didn't mean he was going to allow his wife to shirk her responsibilities. It was her duty to be available to him whenever he was in need. And damn it, he was in need now. Frowning, he stalked over to his liquor cabinet and poured a drink.

Alcohol wouldn't help. He knew that and, with a deep sigh, he set the glass down. He needed to think, not act. There was a reason Hermione was denying him. He'd felt her body respond to him, felt how much she'd wanted him. Why she hadn't wanted to continue past where they'd gotten was beyond him. All he could think was that there was something troubling her that he hadn't yet taken into consideration. His mind went back to his earlier musings about their relationship and he wondered, not for the first time, if his thoughts upon getting to know one another weren't as odd as he'd first believed them to be.

He had to admit that, with her soft body and her willingness to please, he had a hard time getting her from his mind. Still, Hermione Jane Granger Snape was a person, with intelligence and brains. And courage. He stared at the wall blindly, his gaze focused on something not quite so tangible. Was it really so simple as taking a moment or two to discover something more about her than which position made her react all the wilder? There was so much to consider. The year was done and she was now well and truly free of school. She was, in the eyes of the world, a full adult and she could do as she pleased.

A frown worried his lips a moment as he considered the fact that he didn't know if she would be living with him or not. It shouldn't matter to him, shouldn't make him worry as it did. He shouldn't care one way or the other what she planned on doing after school. Still, as his wife, she was supposed to live with him. Wasn't she? It was frustrating for him, not knowing what should and shouldn't be. His parents had been a very bad example of a married couple. Moving to settle into his chair, he allowed himself to consider his options.

On one hand, he could allow his wife free reign to do as she pleased. Chances were good that, if he did such a thing, she wouldn't be with him. She would likely find her own place to live and completely forget that he was her husband. Somehow, that didn't sit right with him. She was his wife, after all. On the other hand, he could push the issue. He could inform her in no uncertain terms that she was going to live with him. He could let her know that he was willing to accept nothing less than having her at his side. She was his wife, after all.

A slow smile slid over his face. Perhaps it was time for him to remind her that she was his wife. He had marked her as such at that farce of a ceremony. Flicking his gaze to his shelves, he silently summoned a book to him. It settled on the table by his elbow. Casually, he thumbed it open to the correct page. Ah, yes. Just the spell he needed. Focusing his mind on Hermione, he began to cast the spell, a wicked smile on his face.

There was no way she wouldn't remember just who and what he was to her after this.

~*~

The room was dark and silent, just as Hermione liked it. She'd sat at her desk for a time after returning from the library. But she'd given up trying to read because her mind hadn't let her get away from Severus' advances earlier. Finally, in a huff, she'd thrown the book aside and shucked off her clothes before donning a night gown and climbing into bed. All she wanted to do was sleep and forget.That wasn't too much to ask, was it?

Settling into the thick mattress, Hermione closed her eyes with a deep sigh. Only to have them fly open again almost immediately. Ghostly hands were running up and down her legs, fingers working their way beneath her freshly changed panties. Yet even more hands were cupping her breasts, working her nipples into aching peaks. Pleasure washed over her and, for a moment, Hermione simply lay there, basking in the feel. Then she realized what was happening and she threw herself from her bed to settle into the hard confines of her chair.

'Damn that man! I'm so going to bloody kill him,' she grumbled. It was going to be a long night.


end chapter twenty.
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thanks must go, as always, to my support system. the wenches keep me going and they mean so very much to me. they all know who they are and i loves them lots and lots. also, extra special loves to my kitty cat and onyx for their above and beyond support. they're the best and i can never thank them enough.

this is entirely not beta'ed by anyone but me, so if you do find mistakes, please don't hurt me. i'm still waiting on my godhead, so..... damn it, i hate being mortal.

finally, if you found you liked this and have forgiven me, please feel free to leave a review and let me know what you thought. reviews aren't required, but they are very much appreciated. even if they're just to say 'more, please!'

and now, a last round of thanks: (i hope you all are still reading)

to mariteri: i'm so glad you've enjoyed this and i hope you continue to do so. hopefully this chapter will be acceptable.

to Megan Consoer: here you go. more. hope you enjoy.

to Anon: yes, you're right. voyeurism is the act of watching two or more parties engage in a sexual act. sadly, its been so long since i wrote that.... *sighs* what can i say? i humbly beg forgiveness. however, voyeurism and pornography do go hand in hand. generally, writing is considered erotica while pictures are considered pornography. granted, the statement is inaccurate. but, then again, it all kind of goes together. crap, i think i knew what i wanted to say, once upon a time.

to Anguloce: sorry it took so long. hopefully this one is okay.

to Lucy: somehow, i couldn't seem to get away from the libraries. there's something kind of really kinky for the two of them to be going at it in a stack of books. perhaps they can finally find someplace else slightly out of whack to do it. we'll have to wait and see. as to the feel of chapter 14, i can assure you that it was more than likely written that way on purpose. as its been some time since i wrote it, i can't say for sure. i just know that i write my chapters in the manner the characters direct. and, as for Professor McGonagall, she isn't going to let Hermione have to fight on her own. i have to admit that Harry and Draco was an out of the blue thing, but i like how it fits. i hope to work more of them into the story. i just have to be careful not to give them too much time so they don't take away from Hermione and Severus.

to Miki: hmmm. purple balls? i can probably do that. though you must admit that he's as good at this as she is. the two of them are quite equally matched.

to pickles87: each one of them are attacking on a different front. she's trying to attack him on a more mental level while his is purely physical. so i'll leave you to answer for yourself if his prank is on her or her clothing. at any rate, i'm glad you're enjoying this. and i have to admit i couldn't help myself with the whole loaning out idea. i rather like this side of McGonagall.

to RedsAttic: did this chapter answer your question?

to Jennifer: well, he's started to do that. maybe he'll keep up with it. you never know. some men can be taught. we'll see if he's one of them.

to Bella Snape: well, i hope you made it through and i hope you didn't over heat. i'm so glad you're enjoying it.

to am: thank you so much. glad you've been enjoying it.

to sinbad: i'm of the opinion that, unless its the actual author writing the story, anything that a person writes is going to be AU. i strive to keep my characters as close to what the author has written because that's the reason we chose to write about them. changing them without really good reason would just make things suck. so..... thanks. i'm glad to know i'm doing something right.

to Chrissie: i hope you're still reading and i hope you enjoy this one.

to Jade: i'm doing my best. thank you.

to Dreamer022: here's more. hope you liked it.