Storing Up Trouble

Disclaimer: I wish!

beeky63: I lived in the Forest of Dean, and it was beautiful... Gloucester is my favourite place in the whole world! Here's the next chapter anyway...

lisa and angel: Hmm, not saying anything...

SoceressFujin: Yep, yummy indeed.

Citten: Glad you managed to pull through.

Trouble Ensues

The next morning, Hermione got up, and refreshed herself after her bath, and tidied up her packing chest. She brushed her hair, as she did so she saw her door opening and she gasped, as the mirror reflected no one entering the room. In case it was Harry playing around in his invisibility cloak she kept her suspicions silent. She continued brushing her hair until the intruder revealed himself.

“Malfoy?” She said, stunned. She immediately got up and shut the door, and then she turned to face the blonde wizard.

“I’ve been told to keep an eye on you,” he said, in a tone that suggested he’d rather be doing a thousand other different things.

“Why can’t he leave me alone for at least one day?” She asked of no one in particular.

“I can’t understand it either,” Malfoy answered. He strolled up to her bed and picked up the penguin paperback. “A Tale of Two Cities,” he read the title and flipped to the back and read the back of the book. His eyebrows raised at her, as he laid the book back on the bed. “Trust you to read a book about the destruction of the upper classes.”

Hermione ignored him and continued brushing through her hair. She was struggling at a knot right at the back of her hair. She was wincing with pain, as she tugged the brush through it, with no result. Malfoy rolled his eyes and walked towards her and removed her hand from the handle. He then smoothly, and quickly, glided the brush through the troublesome tangle and continued brushing her hair for her.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“Brushing your hair for you,” he said. “Have you always had to brush your hair?”

“Is it really any of your business,” Hermione snapped. He leant down and whispered in her ear.

“You know something, Granger, I can’t get the image of you in that lovely periwinkle blue dress out of my head.”

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. She looked at Malfoy Jr and decided to ignore him. He silently continued brushing her hair. She found she didn’t mind him doing it.

“Is what Blaise said true?” she asked.

“I don’t know what Blaise said to be able to answer that question, Granger,” Malfoy answered.

“That if a Slytherin marks me the way that Severus has, that sort of makes me an honorary Slytherin?”

Malfoy sighed. Damn! Why did Zabini have to tell her that piece of Slytherin protocol? It was indeed true but he didn’t want to give Mudblood Granger the satisfaction of admitting this to her. That Severus Snape had indeed made her a sort of equal. The very thought made him shiver with frustration, and anger. The reason that Snape did that for was beyond him.

“Yes,” he answered shortly. “It is true.”

Hermione’s brow crinkled with confusion at that. She allowed Malfoy to get nearer and nearer to her. Eventually, she could even hear his heartbeat. She kept her gaze on her reflection, and did not look in Malfoy’s eyes.

“Thank you,” she said, as he set the brush down.

He kept his hand on her hair and he set a lock behind her ear.

“That’s all right,” he said in a neutral tone. “At least it looks less bushy for someone doing it for you.”

Hermione looked in the mirror properly, and he was right, he had managed to sort out tangles that she had not been able to get at. It did indeed look less bushy.

“Right then,” she said, as she tried to regain some of her nature back. “I suppose he’s sent you to make sure I don’t chicken out?”

Malfoy smirked, and he had a strange mischievous glint in his eye.

“Precisely,” he smiled like a fox that had trapped his prey.

Hermione got up off the seat and closed her packing chest and pocketed her book in her jeans. She then picked up her wand and charmed it to be light enough for her to carry. Malfoy, though, picked it up for her.

“I’d better take this with me,” he said.

“Is Paranoia a pre-requisite for being a Slytherin, other than blood?” Hermione asked. “I’m a Gryffindor, I don’t chicken out.”

Malfoy smiled at that and walked up to her. Gods, she looked sexy in what she was wearing. Her burgundy turtleneck sweater showed her shape of lovely. Now, he realised why his godfather had done, what he had done. Her legs looked rather nice in those black jeans.

“I was only being a gentleman, Granger, you do realise that unlike the Weasel, I was brought up, and not dragged up.”

Hermione glared at Malfoy. She still cared for Ron, even if she weren’t sure that she loved him. She was not going to put up with snide comments about him, especially from a disgraced unqualified Wizard.

“Is that so?” she bit out. “Ron, for all his faults, never looked down on me because my parentage didn’t quite fit in with his.”

Malfoy was laughing silently. He touched where Severus had marked her.

“Oh, but he wouldn’t accept whom you really dumped him for. I think you’ll find the Weasley’s have their own prejudices, after all, Granger, nobody’s perfect,” he leant down and continued softly, “not even you, Miss Know-It-All!”

Hermione was close to slapping him in the face with a bedpost when someone knocking on her door interrupted them. He put her packing chest down and she shoved him unceremoniously in a wardrobe. He understood the need for this.

“Come in,” she said.

“Hermione,” Ginny said. She ran into Hermione’s arms and hugged her. “Like I said, Ron’s a prat. Class O Prat!”

“I can understand, I mean if Harry dumped you, would you want to see him everyday during the so-called Jolly Season,” Hermione said sarcastically, and then she giggled.

“What’s so funny?” Ginny asked.

“Oh, nothing, it’s just that a few weeks before I started Hogwarts, my parents took me to see the latest Hollywood blockbuster, it was called Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. And there is this scene where the bad guy say’s ‘Call of Christmas,’ in order to punish the poor people.”

“You’ll have to explain that film to me in more detail one day,” Ginny said.

“Funnily enough, Snape sort of reminds me of that villain. It must have been the black.”

Ginny looked harder at Hermione.

“What makes you think about Snape of all people?” Ginny asked. Hermione blushed and remained silent. Ginny then looked around her friend’s room. “Has someone been in here?”

“No, why?” Hermione asked.

“I am sure I can smell cologne,” Ginny said. “Expensive cologne at that. The type that used to linger in a room after Malfoy left it.”

Hermione sniffed.

“No, I can’t smell anything. Are you sure, Ginny?” Hermione lied, although if Ginny’s narrowed eyes were anything to go by, she had not lied convincingly.

“Anyway, I came by to drop some of your presents off. Here’s mine, and Harry’s. Ron, er, threw his away. Neville’s, and Luna’s.”

Hermione took the packages and put a shrinking charm on them and put them in her coat pocket.

“I love magic,” she breathed.

Ginny then hugged her once again and left the room. Hermione promised to get in touch with her over the holidays. Hermione then remembered to give her presents to Ginny. She had them all labelled.

“Ron?” Ginny asked, as she saw a label.

“Why not, Ron?” Hermione asked. “He might not want to give me mine, but I still care about him. I want him to have his gift.”

Ginny nodded. She muttered ‘prat’ under her breath again and then walked out of the room. Draco then tumbled out of the wardrobe, gasping for air.

“What are you trying to do? Kill me?” He demanded.

“Isn’t that what you were trying to do to Dumbledore last year?” She sharply retorted back.

“I would NEVER have killed Dumbledore,” he said back, his grey eyes glinting silver with indignation.

Hermione sighed, she had to give him that. Draco Malfoy was not a killer. He was not a murderer. He was just an extremely unpleasant boy.

“So,” Hermione said, in order to cover the awkward silence that had come between them. “How are we going to get to Severus’ home?”

Draco brought out a tightly sealed box.

“He gave me some floo powder,” he said. “Shall we?”

He offered her his hand, and then he turned to pick up her packing chest. It was a good charm, as he managed to tuck it under his arm. Hermione used her free hand to chuck in the floo powder, and Draco yelled out, “Spinner’s End,” and Hermione felt the familiar uncomfortable pull, as she felt herself twirling in a green grey mist.


Hermione stepped through a rather old looking fireplace, fifteenth, possibly sixteenth century. She stepped into a darkened living room. The walls were covered in books, and there were some on the floor. Oil lamps dimly lighted the room, and then she heard his voice.

“Welcome Home,” he said.

“Home?” She asked.

“Of course, Hermione, you’re home,” he said. Draco had already given Severus her luggage, and then he mumbled something in his godfather’s ear. Then Draco left. This did not make Hermione feel any better.

“I am just visiting, my home is still with my parents,” and the school, she added to herself.

“How old are you, Hermione?” he asked.

“Eighteen,” she answered, biting her lip before she added sir.

“How long have you been eighteen?” he asked again.

“Three months,” she said.

“You have been of legal age for over a year,” Severus replied. “You are a witch, remember that, a witch. Witches are of age at seventeen. If my information is correct, then you have not spent any time with your parents for at least two, if not three years…”

“Your information is incorrect, sir, I spent last Christmas with my parents. And a considerable amount of time with them during the summer holidays,” she answered tersely.

Severus smiled and walked up to her and tilted her chin up.

“I love it when you’re angry,” he said. “And my name is Severus, not sir.”

Hermione glared at him, her amber eyes were almost gold with the heat of her anger. He bent down and placed his lips on hers. She widened her mouth, and he slipped his tongue in her mouth. Her mouth practically watered at the touch of their tongues dancing with each other. He placed a hand on the back of her head to support her. His other hand roved and wandered all over her body, until a warm hot hand landed on her breast. If her mouth was tingling with his kiss, her whole body practically jolted with electricity. Her nipple hardened underneath his strong, sturdy, palm. He felt it and then broke the kiss.

“We can finish this off upstairs if you like?” he murmured, there was a hungry, hopeful glint shining in his obsidian orbs. Hermione almost gave into him.

“No,” she said softly. “No, not yet.”

“DAMN IT! HERMIONE, I NEED YOU!” He roared. “I CAN’T GET YOU OUT OF MY HEAD. I MISS YOU. IS THAT PLAIN AND SIMPLE ENOUGH FOR YOU? STOP DENYING ME!”

Hermione’s lower lip trembled, as she stepped back a little away from him. She was afraid of what he might do. He stepped forward, and she took another step back. He kept on advancing towards her, as he kept moving closer towards her. Eventually, she was cowering in a corner, her eyes wide, and her legs giving way.

He stopped suddenly, and then put a shaking hand to his face and turned it away. He slumped down into a chair looking miserable and dejected. He held his hands out in front of him. His dark eyes were wild, his lanky hair hanging around his face.

“S-Severus?” she stammered.

“What was I doing?” He asked his voice hollow. Hermione was now afraid for another reason. The sudden change in her tormentor/lover, whatever you’d like to call him, had unnerved her.

“Are you all right?”

“I was this close to beating you up and you ask me if I am all right?” Severus asked incredulity marked every line on his face.

“It’s all right,” she said. “I am being annoying, I know I am, it’s just that I am not ready for this, yet.”

“You don’t understand, Hermione, when I was a boy my father died, and my mother and I had to move in with my grandfather. My grandfather used to beat my mother up. I used to watch from the sidelines, feeling unworthy of my mothers love.”

“Why?” She asked, as she knelt down on the floor and took his hands in hers.

“Because I weren’t able to help her. I swore never to hit a woman, but I almost did. I am a monster… only monsters kill defenceless old men and hit women. My grandfather turned me into him.”

“No,” Hermione said. “He didn’t. For a monster does not feel regret over what he did. And a monster would not stop before he started.”

Severus looked down on her and then stroked her cheek tenderly.

“This isn’t going at all how I planned,” he murmured softly, he delved deep into her eyes, and then he smiled. “Apart from one thing.”

“What had you planned?” she asked.

“Now that would be telling,” he chided her with. “Why don’t you use that mind of yours to figure it out for yourself, hmm?”

He dropped his hands from her face, and she then arose from her kneeling position, and then sat down on a chair opposite him. She was about to suggest a cup of tea when she heard his front door banging, and a sneering female voice yelling out for him to ‘open up!’

“You best make yourself scarce,” he said. He got up, and she followed his example. “Hide here,” he said; as he opened an oak door, he smiled at her before he shut the door.

“Ah, Severus, so glad you finally heard me,” Hermione heard a voice the other side of the door. “What took you so long in answering the door?”

“I fell asleep,” he answered. “And to what do I owe this pleasure, Bellatrix?”

Hermione almost gasped, but kept her indignation to herself, as she listened in on the conversation.

“It’s our Dark Lord,” she replied. “Have you heard his latest idea?”

“Of course,” he answered. “All purebloods are to have a child if they haven’t already.”

“The trouble is, Rodolphus and I are getting a little old for childbearing.”

Hermione covered her hand with her mouth; she didn’t know whether to snigger, or to gag. The idea of Bellatrix Black being a mother was a sheer anomaly.

“I doubt you are, if I remember rightly, Potter’s grandparents were your age if not older than you, when they borne their dear James.”

Bellatrix snorted, it was well timed with Hermione’s snort.

“Is someone staying here with you?”

“Yes,” Severus said. “Someone you don’t know.”

“Anyway,” Bellatrix said. Hermione could hear the rustle of clothing. “I also have a sneaking suspicion that Rudi is sterile.”

“What are you doing?” Severus asked.

What was that bitch doing? Hermione asked herself, if she were touching Severus then she’d pay!

She heard a soft, rich chuckle coming through.

“Oh, come on, Severus,” she said, her throaty voice was making Hermione shake furiously. She wanted so desperately to tear the woman’s voice box out of her throat. “I think a brave, heroic Death Eater like you deserves some form of payment, don’t you?”

That cow was really asking for it! Hermione fumed.

“I would never touch another man’s wife,” he said.

Hermione smiled warmly to herself.

“Oh, since when have you been noble?” Bellatrix sneered. “You had no objections on the night of your initiation.”

“I was an eighteen year old boy that was flattered that an older, attractive, worldly woman wanted me. But, I’ve grown up since then.”

Hermione frowned. Is that what she was? An eighteen-year-old young woman, flattered that an older, worldlier man was attracted to her?

“Oh, stop whining, Severus, get on that sofa and have me for Merlins’ sake!”

“I would, Bellatrix, but I am expecting my guest any minute now.”

Hermione had to sit on her hands to keep them from opening the door and killing that bitch on the spot, although being the good, honourable friend she was, she knew that would be Harry’s and Neville’s privilege.

“Fine,” Bellatrix snapped. “I won’t give up, you know.”

“Being a fellow Death Eater and Slytherin I wouldn’t expect you to,” Severus replied smoothly.

Hermione was rocking back and forth on the stairs now. She was this close to erupting, forget Mount Bloody St Helens, she would be the fire of the earth.

“So,” Bellatrix breathed. “Who is it that’s staying with you?”

“A woman,” Severus said. “A young woman at that.”

“Pretty, young woman?”

“I don’t know; she’s a foreigner. I’ve never met her before in my life. She’s sent me reply, after reply, on some articles I wrote for Periodic Potions. She seems to be full of good ideas, I just want to meet the nuisance.”

Bellatrix snorted again.

“She obviously has a mild interest for you. All a woman has to do to be able to attract you is stir a potion the right way around.”

Hermione was near to the door, her nerves could stand this no longer. Why won’t the bloody bitch leave?

“Jealous are you?” Severus asked with a slight mocking sneer to his voice.

“No,” Bellatrix said. “It’s just that, well, does the Dark Lord know you entertain strange young foreign women in your home?”

“Does the Dark Lord know that you’re planning to not have your husband’s baby?”

Touché, Hermione thought smugly.

“You better not snitch on me you hook nosed tell tale,” she snarled.

“Then don’t tell him about my non Death Eater activities.”

“All right,” she said. “I won’t.”

“Wand oath?”

“Don’t push it, Snape!”

Hermione heard her steps get fainter, and she heard Severus mutter ‘good riddance!’ He then opened the door that concealed Hermione. He was surprised at the sight that met his eyes; he shut in a little cat, and he opened the door to a lioness ready to pounce.

“If that bitch goes near you, again, believe me she’ll regret EVER killing Sirius Lee Black!” Hermione had her fists clenched and her jaw set. Severus observed with great pleasure, that she was jealous.

“Has anyone ever told you,” he purred, as he leant down towards her. “That you’re beautiful when you’re angry.”

He kissed her slowly and passionately. Hermione forgot her anger and jealousy, as their tongues danced once again. She brushed aside some of his hair, and tucked it behind his ear. She broke the kiss. She looked into his eyes. She kissed the corners of his mouth, and then she pecked down his neck. Eventually, she reached his earlobe and kissed the sensitive skin underneath. She bit his skin, he growled and his response made her feel powerful. She suckled and licked the bite.

“Now we belong to each other,” she panted.

Severus pushed her gently back, so that he could look in her eyes. The surprise in his gaze was fairly evident. He smiled, though, when he saw her flicker her eyelids down towards the floor.

“I was right to start this,” he answered in reply.

A/N Bellatrix is my favourite bad lady! She's ultra cool! Anyway what d'ya think?