A Different Kind of Magic--UNDERGOING EDIT

Chapter 29- Something Wicked

A happy Hermione fell into a routine. Her first week was filled with warm snuggly babies, good food and laughter, aged parchment before a roaring fire, and best of all- her dear friends. She largely ignored Severus, who continued to sulk in silence and liquor, locked in his bedroom.

Little Teddy had forsaken Ginny in favor of latching on to Hermione. He chattered on incessantly about all his favorite things at the store. The only thing that made her sad was his constant asking when his Papa was going to visit him.

Molly gave Teddy an exasperated look. “Quit bugging the poor girl, Teddy. I told you that your Papa can only come see you at the weekend. You’re going to have to wait.”

The week passed by in a blur. An unexpected visit from Rabastan fell on the Friday afternoon before the official Order meeting scheduled for that coming Sunday. After the unpleasant exchange at the castle, Hermione was a little on edge.
They settled in the Library before a roaring fire. Rabastan sat in the leather recliner kicking back with tea, and she on one of the sofas curled up as far from him as possible.

“Minerva wanted me to explain to you the nature of my relationship to the Order and the Ministry. She requires our mutual participation if we are to operate as colleagues.”

Hermione was taken pleasantly by surprise. This was an almost completely different man than the one that had confronted her and Severus at Hogwarts. She marveled at how educated he sounded. He didn’t look the type to sit with a book. The man looked like he belonged on a battlefield. He had definitely seen his fair share of action, judging by the scars on his face and hands. Her knowledge of him as a former Death Eater was enough to send most women screaming from his presence, but Minerva trusted him, and she placed great faith in her former Head of House, so that was good enough for her.

He was a huge, menacing brute. Still, he wasn’t entirely unpleasant to look at. Hermione found value in the unique. His unusual facial scar lent an air of danger to him, but also humanity. It made him more approachable in her eyes. It told her that he was human, and therefore vulnerable, just like everyone else. It was entirely amazing how alike he and Severus seemed to be. The similarities were incredible.

This disarming side of Rabastan was a complete gentleman; he even re-poured her tea and asked if she required anything else when they had finished their conversation. Hermione was impressed by his display of control. She understood now why Minerva valued his service. He would fit in just about anywhere. Remus’ warning about Rabastan’s volatile temper, sudden outbursts, and penchant for acting on impulse stayed in the back of her mind. There was no way she was letting her guard down around this great bulk of a man, but she found herself strangely drawn to him.

Rabastan finished their conversation by standing and reaching for her hand. She flinched and recoiled from his touch. He retreated. “I regret our former encounter at Hogwarts, Miss Granger. I tend to get carried away in matters of a personal nature. My grudge is not with you. Please forgive my transgression.”

This seemed to appease her, as she allowed him to take her hand while he placed a peck on it before taking his leave. Fascinating creature, this Miss Granger; I can see why Severus is so taken with her. I’ll have to make an excuse to return here soon.

Hermione shuddered lightly after Rabastan left. She could still feel his lingering presence in the room. Shaking herself, Hermione decided to go check on Severus. She was growing tired of the Professor’s refusal to come to meals. Each morning a mess of plates was found left for her or Molly to clean up, apparently from his midnight raids of the cupboard.

She didn’t bother to knock when she marched up to his room, drawing the new wand Ollivander had measured and brought to her. “Alohamora.” It worked beautifully. It was nice to not have to use Molly’s anymore.

The great black bat that was Severus was already fuming toward her when the door swung open. She was forced to cast a spell as he raged toward her at alarming speed. “Immobulus!” He froze and toppled to the floor mere feet from where she stood.

With great deliberation she levitated him to the bath, undressing him unceremoniously while wrinkling her nose at the stench. “Really, Severus. Getting drunk and sneaking food all week? How old are we? Sixteen? You are going to take a bath and come to dinner. If you continue to shut yourself away, I will freeze you and set you at the table in front of everyone.”

His eyes shot daggers as she bathed him, dried him, and dug clean clothes out of his trunk to dress him. “Now I’m going to release you, but you have to promise to behave and not continue this nonsense.”

She released him. He flung his limbs from the bed, sputtering outrage. “You impudent girl! What gives you the right to interfere in my misery? If I want to drown myself in Firewhiskey I shall damn well do so!”

Her laughter caught him off guard. “Is that what this week has been about? You are determined to play the martyr? Poor, displaced, useless Severus Snape. No one saved you a seat at the Head Table, so you pout in your room like a small child. It’s pathetic. This behavior is beneath you.”

She refused to entertain thoughts of her own self mutilation, even though she kept the razor blade in her pocket. Hermione had managed to only cut herself once since her trip to the Burrow. It had alleviated her guilty conscience and allowed her to focus on those around her. It was odd how physical intimacy made her feel. She at once both craved it and loathed how she was drawn by it despite the forced humiliation she had endured. Hermione vowed to be careful around the Weasley’s when it came to her deeper base feelings. She didn’t want them to be hurt by her mistakes; she would be useful to them and earn her keep.

Severus’ face was black with rage. He surprised her by grabbing her body and forcing her onto the bed, his naked body taut and hard over her. A delicious shiver ran through her body as fear and lust tried to knock each other from the same horse they rode in on.

The Potions master decided for her. Like a snake striking out for the bite, he took her mouth viciously, plundering through her lips with his hot tongue, probing her depths for some semblance of sanity that had eluded him all week. He had tried to stay away from Hermione, but the meddling witch had taken it upon herself to mollycoddle him. It wasn’t his fault she wouldn’t heed his warnings.

She squeaked when he roughly hitched up her dress, wincing when he accidentally put too much weight on his bum leg in that particular position. When Hermione tried to speak he took her mouth again, forcing the words to die uselessly in the passion of his frantic kisses. Hermione moaned when another pair of knickers became rags, ripped from her under the ardor making haste above her.

Without further ado, Severus only paused to wet the head of his engorged cock in her slick folds, before plunging himself deep inside her luscious heat. A week of no intimacy made the two lovers burn hot for one another. An inferno was ignited as he pistoned into the lovely witch with as much wild abandon as he could muster.

Her screams were locked out when he tossed the headpiece of hers to the floor. All he wanted to do was lose himself in the tight vise of her sweet, milking pussy. Severus rose up on both arms to look down at her, his hair swinging along either side of his face. Her beautiful eyes burned with desire for him, those lovely breasts jiggling with every thrust up and into her.

He looked down to their joining, the lips of her sex were suckling his cock so nicely, and it made his balls tighten with anticipation.

“Gods, Hermione! You’re so beautiful! Sweet Circe, I’m coming, I’m coming, Oh God come for me, come for me, come for me Ah!” Unable to hold back the floodgates, Severus stiffened above her as he reached down to tweak her clit sharply, taking her over the edge with him. Her body writhed and bucked under him, luscious walls spasming and contorting around his cock, drawing every last drop from his balls into the depths of her body.

He collapsed on top of her lightly, the pain in his leg having turned from a dull throb into a menacing ache. They panted together for several minutes, sharing sweaty kisses and loving caresses.

As quickly as his passion ignited, it also cooled. He seemed to come to his senses and wrested his body away from her, moving away to the edge of the bed.

Hermione reached down and placed the headpiece where it belonged. She was forever trying to understand this complicated man.

He looked so vulnerable, sitting on the bed naked.

“Severus, what’s the matter?” His reply stunned her.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said simply.

She grabbed his shoulders and shook him soundly. “Is that what this was all about? You just made passionate love to me, and now you are telling me you don’t deserve me? Listen to me, Severus!” Hermione shook him again, forcing him to look into her eyes, willing him to see her passion. “You are deserving if I decide you are. No one else gets to make that choice, so don’t you dare deem to make it for me. Please don’t hurt me by pushing me away. I need you.”
She did need him. Lord, how she needed him so desperately. The thought of losing his affections made her tremble, weak in the knees. There was no way she could allow him to feel as if he were beneath her, not when the opposite was true.

“You do?” He looked at her then, feeling lost. “Hermione, what world is there for me without magic? I have no lab, no wand, simply put here to ‘help out’, as Minerva so eloquently puts it. I’m useless; An utter waste of humanity.” The war between the goodness of Hermione and his own soulless existence fought a bitter struggle, beyond reach of the young woman in front of him. He felt like a lost cause and didn’t want to bring her down with him. God, there was no resisting
her when she was so near and available.

“I don’t see that at all.” She sat next to him, one arm around his shoulder. “I see a strong, unbreakable man. One who has weathered the worst that life threw at him and came back from the brink of death. I don’t see how this setback is going to ruin the rest of your life.”

“You’re a fighter, Hermione. I’m tired of fighting. Tired of living. You could use the Death Curse on me right now and I wouldn’t put up a fight. I would welcome it.”

“Severus Snape, I would never do such a thing!” She stood and shouted, pissed at him. “I have not nursed you for a fucking year just to have you give up on living! It’s insulting!”

“So be it. See me for what you will. A coward, a weakling. For I am all those things and more. You see before you the truth, Hermione, a broken man. Rabastan has taken all that I desired to return to. I understand he paid you a visit today. He’s vowed to take you as well, if you care to remember, and I’ve no doubt he will succeed.”

“I don’t believe you Severus! I’m not some tramp to be passed from hand to hand. I don’t want Rabastan! I want you!”

“Go. I will be down for the evening meal when I have dressed,” he replied dully.

She turned from him and left.

The pain that radiated from him left disconsolate blackness in her heart. She couldn’t bear living if he was giving up on life. Hermione resolved to strengthen the mask she wore for him; that of Gryffindor courage. Her dirty little secret beckoned to her like a lover crooking a finger for her to come. When he despaired, it brushed against her own and fanned the flame of her worthlessness to the world. The pain was seductive, and when the red tendrils of blood arced across her pale skin and marred the white porcelain of the bath, she smiled.

That evening and the next, Severus dutifully appeared for the evening meal. He spoke not a word. The fork moved mechanically from plate to mouth and back again. A slight incline of his head to Molly and Arthur saw him retreat back to his room. He ignored any attempt at conversation, and only replied to the most pressing of questions in his singular monotone ineptitude.

Hermione stormed into his room some time later, letting the door slam open. “What the hell is your problem?”

“Pardon?” He was reclined on the bed with a book and the trademark bottle of Firewhiskey.

“Damn you Severus! Can’t you be civil for one day?”

He didn’t spare her a glance. “I fulfilled your request to appear for the evening meals. I can’t imagine what more you expect of me.”

Hermione ripped the book and bottle from his hands as she leaped to straddle him. She tossed them to the floor. The whiskey glug glug glugged onto the carpet as she grappled with him.

Severus grabbed her roughly by the front of her blouse and yanked her to within inches of his face, snarling. “What do you think you are doing?”

“Showing you that there is something worth living for!”

Her mouth plundered his fiercely, tongues tangling as his grip loosened and strong arms pulled her to his chest.
A quick flick of her wrist sent the door slamming shut and locked. That night, Hermione and Severus took their time with one another. Every inch of their bodies was explored. She discovered that he liked his balls squeezed when he took her from behind. He discovered that simply blowing on her nipples sent her close to a careening orgasm.

It was magical. A real connection seemed to form inside Severus that night. The cobwebs of doubt were swept from his mind as this wonderful, brilliant, and sumptuous witch gave herself to him over and over again. It made him feel as if there might actually be a future for them, together, in this terrifying new world he was powerless and useless against. Maybe, just maybe, all he needed to do was believe in her, love her, and the answers to this new life would fall into his lap like so many snowflakes caught on one’s tongue in winter.

They made love and slept, made love again and slept some more. The only thing that marred the night was Hermione’s inability to perform fellatio. Severus didn’t mind, but it bothered her. The return memory of Dr Shaw’s despicable act haunted her. The degradation was too fresh and she didn’t want to associate that memory with their special bond.

In the early hours, they woke to make love one last time before falling into exhausted slumber, their appetites sated.

Sun crept through the window when Hermione rose to rub the sleep from her eyes. She groggily flopped an arm over, expecting to drape it across the chest of her lover. The other side of the bed was empty.

“Severus?”

The room was cold. She shivered and lit a fire with her wand. Slipping into a warm pair of slippers and a set of the Professor’s black teaching robes, she padded to the bathroom. It was empty as well.

Hermione quickly dressed and lightly skipped downstairs.

“Molly, have you seen Severus?”

“No dear, I’ve been up with the babies since five o’clock and I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of him. Maybe he’s in the loo?”

“No, I checked there. He’s not in his room.”

“Well, I’ve been in the kitchen the whole time. I would have seen if he’d come down. Say, will you go wake Teddy for me? I need to get him dressed and fed. Remus is coming early, before the Order meeting, for a visit.”

Hermione’s smile brightened. “Sure Molly. He’s been asking after his Papa all week. Teddy will be thrilled to see him!”

Hermione bounded back up the stairs and down the hall. Pushing open the door to Teddy’s bedroom, coldness crept into her belly. Teddy was not in his bed. Backing away, she called out for him. “Teddy?”

Hermione carefully scoured the upstairs, wondering where he could be. “It’s not funny to hide from Auntie Hermione, Teddy. Please come out and get dressed. Your Papa will be here today to see you.”

The eerie silence was haunting. Her hands shook as she gripped the rail of the stair.

“Hermione! Whatever is the matter, child! You look white as a ghost!”

“Molly, Teddy isn’t upstairs. I can’t find him.”

Molly’s face turned from one of concern to one of fear. “What do you mean? I checked on him after I fed the twins at two this morning. He was sleeping soundly. Did you check the other rooms?”

“I looked everywhere.”

The two women exchanged a meaningful look. “Arthur!” Molly shouted.

The three searched the house from top to bottom. No place, no matter how small, went untouched. Fear was quickly turning to panic. The search went from indoors to outdoors. The babies were starting to cry, so Molly stayed back to look after them.

Hermione and Arthur took the hound dog outside to search the ground. Arthur put one of Teddy’s unwashed shirts to the dog’s nose, then let him sniff Severus’ shirt from the day before. “Find’em, Jiggers!”

The dog sniffed the ground, circling around in an ever widening search. With a yelp, she was off and Hermione had a tough time keeping up with Arthur’s ground-eating stride. They broke through the wards of the grounds and continued through a thick grove of trees. A half mile from the house, Jiggers howled.

Arthur’s breath was coming in ragged gasps as he stopped next to the dog. “I’m not in the best shape anymore old girl!” he admonished fondly.

Hermione caught up with them a moment later and stared at the ground a few feet in front of them. A collective gasp escaped from the pair at the sight of the scorched earth. The blackened ground extended for twenty feet in the opposite direction. The sides of the surrounding trees had been seared. Not one blade of grass or brush remained in the path of destruction.

“What the hell happened here?” Arthur sank to his knees. His knee struck a sharp object when he kneeled. “Ouch! Oi, what’s this?”

His hand reached down and pulled out a tiny object from under him. “Oh God, no!” he cried.

It was Teddy’s prized toy; a miniature replica of the Hogwarts Express. One tiny wheel had been busted off and the front of the engine was melted.

A sob escaped the red-haired man’s lips.

“What is it, Arthur?”

Hermione gasped when she saw him clutching the tiny train.

“Who would do such a thing to a little boy? Why? Oh, Arthur!”

Arthur Weasley looked on, dumbstruck with grief. Grief turned to rage as he shook his fists at the sky. “Why do you have to keep taking them away from me? Why? I swear on Merlin’s grave, I am going to hunt down and kill the bastards that have done this!”

“Arthur, look over there!” On a branch leading away from the scorched ground was a piece of cloth flapping in the breeze. Jiggers barked and loped over to the offending scrap of material. She happily brought it back to her Master, dropping it at his feet.

Hermione picked up the cloth. “No, it can’t be. I mean, it’s not possible!”

“What is it, Hermione? Do you know what it means?”

“This is a piece of Severus’ travelling cloak.”

“How do you know?”

She handed him the cloth. In tiny silver stitching were the initials S. S.