#6 ~ A Matter of Matrimony

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR (except Marcus Delaluci). All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 22 ~ The Dragon Bites the Lioness, the Lioness Bites Back

Marcus lay in the infirmary, his arm in a tight elastic sleeve. Pomfrey had slipped it on him to hold his fractured bones steady while they knitted back together. His swollen eye had gone down, and he could see out of it now, though there was still bruising. Pomfrey had healed his broken nose too, but a little redness still surrounded it. His tooth was back in place too.

He lay there, looking up at the ceiling. He had to admit, Snape could hold his own in a fight. He had worked Marcus over pretty good, though the blonde wizard was sure he gave the Potions Master something to think about himself. The loss was his own fault really, for fighting dirty and throwing that chair at Snape. If he hadn’t maybe the outcome would have been different. Snape wouldn’t have busted up his arm and gotten the advantage.

Shit. He had almost had Hermione. She was ready for some action. Marcus sighed. Snape had probably already told her what the real deal was. He wondered how she would take the news that he had been plotting to fuck her all along. Bet she’d cry. He shrugged to himself. So what, it was her own fault she was so naïve. But damn, she was hot. Fucking her would have been a real pleasure. He could have done anything to her.

He heard voices. Madame Pomfrey. She sounded shocked at something. Then there was another voice murmuring something, drawing closer. He wriggled up so he was sitting in the bed when the black curtain flew back and Hermione stood there, still in club clothes, and those hot go-go boots, glaring at him with murder in her eyes. Yep. She knew. She pulled the curtain back in place then turned back to face Marcus.

“How could you!” she hissed at him, obviously not trying to attract Pomfrey’s attention. How could you pretend to be my friend when all the time you were plotting to fuck me!”

Marcus looked at her appraisingly, and motioned with his good arm for her to take a seat.

“Sit down, Hermione, this is going to take a little while,” he said calmly.

Taken aback by his calm reaction, she sat down on the edge of the chair, her eyes flashing angrily. Marcus took her in. Even though her hair was a tangle, she still looked delicious in those go-go boots. Shit. Well, here goes everything.

“Hermione, when I came here I thought you were the most non-sexual woman I had ever seen. There was nothing remotely desirable about you. All you did was work and wander around in a daze most of the time. I didn’t have any kind of attraction for you. For anyone here and to be honest I was bored to death. Then I caught your little rape scene with Snape. You sure can take it. He laid it on you hard, and you loved it.”

Hermione flushed with embarrassment as Marcus continued.

“What can I say? It turned me on. I wanted some. Plain and simple. You aren’t married to Snape, so what did I care if you were involved with him. If I could get you away from him, or even get you to the point where you’d fuck me then it would have been all good. You were fair game, still are actually.”

Hermione looked at him, “You pretended to be my friend, “ she said in a low voice. “We spent hours together, talking, laughing, sharing thing…”

Yeah. Yeah. I had to listen to your groaning about ‘Severus’ and all about your work, blah, blah. I had to do it, see. You were on the rebound. I was hoping you’d bounce my way, break down and need some comforting. Then I could have shown you some ‘tough love.’ I didn’t have any idea you’d stick me in the ‘male friend’ category, or I would have tried some other way to get at you. I wouldn’t have listened to any of your shit if it wasn’t for the fact I was dying to stick my dick in you. It wasn’t easy having to spend all that time with you when all I wanted was some pussy.”

Hermione fought to stay in the chair. Marcus noticed it and decided to take her to her limit.

“Look Hermione, you read me wrong. I’m not a nice man, period. I’d fuck you and throw you away in a minute…well probably not a minute. I’ve got nothing and no one but myself in this crappy world. The only thing I live for in my own self-gratification. And nobody is going to give that to me, I have to take it. You are a twisted, little deviant. You walk around here all prim and proper, your nose stuck in books, or hunkered down in that hole you call a lab, and all the while you have this secret, that nobody knows. You need pain to get off. Ain’t that some shit. Snape and his little frigid bookworm are really playing cock-tag in the woods. And he lays pipe to you too, fucking you every which way but loose. I watched him. He was hurting you, he had to be. That was one of the most violent fuckings I had ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot of violent fuckings, believe me. And you just took it. Man.”

He shook his head and looked at her hotly, his eyes telescoping slightly.

“You’re the hottest, sickest thing at Hogwarts and nobody knows it. But me. And probably fucking Dumbledore. He probably diddles himself thinking about it.”

Hermione was wrestling for something to say. He was more horrible than she ever dreamed possible.

“Marcus, I don’t need pain. What you saw between me and Severus isn’t what it appears to be…”

“Oh, don’t start that ‘Love’ shit, Hermione. He might love fucking you, but I doubt that it goes any further. If he loved you so much, why hasn’t he married you after all these years, huh? You’ve been spreading your legs and sucking his cock for seven years, and he hasn’t made any attempt to make you respectable. He just crawls all over you down there in the dungeons, sticking his dick in whatever hole he feels like. You may think you’re his ‘woman’ but actually you’re his whore. That’s why I had no compunction about fucking you or raping you if I could. Every man knows how to treat a whore. If you were married to him, I would have left you alone, and called him a lucky son-of-bitch.”

“You are a fucking bastard,” Hermione breathed, rising from her chair, “you don’t have any remorse for the way you treated me at all…”

Marcus laughed.

“Remorse? Hell fucking no I don’t have any remorse. Well, yeah I do. I’m remorseful I didn’t manage to get my cock in you before you found all this out. It would’ve been much, much sweeter then, you knowing I had duped you. Why would I feel sorry for fucking with any woman’s head who doesn’t respect herself enough to find a man that will treat her right? You talk about the way I treated you, how about the way you treat yourself? Don’t try to get self-righteous with me, Hermione. That shit’s not going to work coming from the Potion Master’s slut.”

Hermione punched Marcus in the face as hard as she could. He yelled, grabbing his nose as blood flowed from it anew. It was the second time in a twenty-four hour period that word got him slugged.

In his study, Severus saw the blow his lover planted squarely in Marcus’ face.

“Ouch,’ he winced, still watching the mirror.

“You fucking bitch!” Marcus screamed, struggling to get out the bed and at Hermione. She whipped out her wand and pointed it right in his face.

“I wish you would,” she said through gritted teeth, “I really wish you would try something, you perverted fucker.”

Marcus looked cross-eyed at the wand pointing toward his bleeding nose, and settled back in the bed, wordlessly. He had no doubt the crazy bitch would hex him.

“And I swear to the gods, Marcus…if you come anywhere near me after this, I will kick your ass ten times worse than Severus did, “ she growled.

Marcus looked at her coolly. He had seen the same look on Severus’ face that day in the Potion Master’s study. She really did want to kill him. It sort of turned him on.

“Fuck both of you. I’m out. Be his whore and be happy,” he grumped, folding his arms as the blood from his nose freely flowed.

The curtain was suddenly pulled back, a shocked Madame Pomfrey entered. She looked at Hermione holding her wand on her patient and frowned.

“Miss Granger! What in the world do you think you are doing? Put that wand away this instant!” Pomfrey scolded, scowling at the young witch and stomping her foot.

Hermione reluctantly lowered the wand, and put it in her skirt pocket. She still glared at Marcus menacingly. Pomfrey looked at Marcus and let out a little scream when she saw the fresh blood running out of his twisted nose.

“Professor Delaluci, what happened?” she asked him, hurrying to his bedside and drawing her wand.

Marcus cut his eyes at Hermione, who stood there stiffly. He looked back at Madame Pomfrey

“I had a relapse,” he said sullenly.

“What? A relapse?” Pomfrey said. She turned and looked at Hermione, who had a grave expression on her face, and then back at Marcus, who looked studiously blank. She pulled a tissue out of her apron pocket and gently dabbed it at the blood pouring out of Marcus’ nose.

“I don’t know what’s going on here, but I will have to take your word for this, Professor,” she said as she mopped him up. “But I can safely say, that this visit is over.”

She turned and looked at Hermione imperiously. “Go, Miss Granger, now,” she said darkly.

Hermione turned on her heel and stalked from Marcus’ bedside. She felt a tiny bit of vindication as she left the infirmary, but she also felt the sting of Marcus’ words concerning her relationship with Severus. Was that how what they had really seemed? She had always believed they had a loving relationship, were equal partners and their particular form of love-making was a choice. But Marcus made it all seem so ugly, so illicit, twisted and wrong.

When she reached the dungeons, she hesitated in front of the door to Severus’ office, which would take her to his rooms. She decided not to enter. She was too shaken. She went instead to her own residence. She had to think.

Severus watched Hermione through the scrying mirror. Although he couldn’t hear the conversation between the irate witch and the unremorseful wizard, he had an idea what Marcus had told her. The same thing he had said to him. That she was nothing but his plaything, his whore. By the look of her, that got to Hermione.

He sighed, imagining what must be going through Hermione’s head. She’d end up loathing herself shortly. She wouldn’t blame him at all, probably. Well, he knew what he had to do. He had known it for years but never had the opportunity. He could only hope that she would be willing, and not think he was just trying to appease her, trapping himself in the process. It would be a wonderful imprisonment as far as he was concerned.

Severus stood and walked to the bookshelf. He waved his hand, and a small square door appeared. He said an incantation, and the small door.swung open. Inside were some parchments, a rare book, some jewelry and a small velvet-covered box. He removed the box and opened it. Inside were two rings, one a plain platinum setting of entwined snakes, the other a similar design but with a huge diamond. He studied them for a moment, then closed the door to the safe and warded it again.

He carried the box to his bedroom and set it on his dresser, then sat down on the edge of his bed and stared at the box as if he expected it to grow wings and fly away. After a while he started his morning regime, hoping a good workout would ease the uncertainty fluttering like large insects inside him. It was a most uncomfortable, unfamiliar feeling.

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A/N: That was quite some meeting. Please review.