Fame and Misfortune

Chapter Five "“

Hermione stared at the page, unable to focus on the words of the spell book. She could put her head down on the table and take a nap, but she wouldn't get any sleep that way. Closing the book with a heavy sigh, Hermione looked at the antique clock that clicked silently above Madam Pince's counter.

"Surely, he's asleep by now," she muttered softly. Stifling a yawn, Hermione stood up and sent the book to its proper place. The faint form of a ghost floated toward her and she moved to step out of the way. The ghost moved closer and she couldn't look away.

It was the Bloody Baron. He floated over her and nodded in acknowledgment, sending a chill up and down her spine. She didn't know whether to be flattered or spooked. The Baron was one of the creepiest ghosts at Hogwarts. He watched her as he made his way across the room.

It had been a week since the threatening letter had arrived. As usual the letter had been a dead end "“ untraceable. Professors McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick and the House ghosts now knew the nature of hers and Severus' marriage.

For appearance purposes, she resided in the dungeons. Not only did she reside in the dungeons, she was sleeping in Snape's bed. It seemed like the Fates were conspiring against her. After all, she really didn't want to sleep with Snape. Or did she?

His bed was the only place to sleep. His office, classroom, and the Slytherin common room were off limits. And the sofa in his sleeping room was the most uncomfortable piece of furniture she'd even had the misfortune to sit on.

She had tossed and turned that second night. It was like the bloody couch was cursed. Hermione made her way to the dungeons, looking over her shoulder and watching the Baron float into the floor and disappear.

--

Severus swiped his pen across the essay irritably, waiting for his wife to come to bed. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, he looked at the clock, trying to focus on the numbers.

It was late and he was tired.

He really couldn't blame her, though. He'd manipulated recent events and certain pieces of furniture to get Hermione back into his bed. It had been easy, convincing her and the other faculty members that the illusion of their marriage be maintained.

Although she had to sleep in the dungeons, that did not mean she would share his bed. So, he went to work, using his Slytherin cunning, to wear her down.

The Slytherin common room was off limits to her based solely on the fact that she was a Gryffindor. She couldn't go to his office or the Potion's classroom, either. He'd warded both rooms. So that had left his living quarters.

Once he realized that she intended sleeping on the sofa, he'd hexed it, making it so uncomfortable he couldn't even sit on it anymore.

Severus grinned, remembering the feel of her sliding into bed next to him. Yes, she'd put a mountain of pillows between them, but it made little difference. He could get rid of those pillows. He'd successfully corralled the Gryffindor witch into his domain.

The bloody mirror of truth was right. He did desire Hermione. His plan was simple. Seduce her. Once this marriage was no longer necessary, they could go their separate ways.

They had spent eight nights sleeping together, nights where he had explored the depths of his control. His dreams were pornographic, images of supple, pink flesh yielding as he penetrated her virgin passage danced through his mind. Severus woke every morning, hard and ready to make his dreams a reality.

Other than a few polite words before bedtime, they had hardly spoke to one another.

He did not see the Bloody Baron descend from the ceiling, but he felt the chill in the air as the ghost drew near. "Well?" Severus asked, looking at the transparent manifestation of one of the most notorious Slytherins.

"She's on her way," the ghost reported, then floated away.

Severus extinguished the lamp and made his way to the bedroom.

--

Hermione swore, seeing the light under the bedroom door. Did the man ever sleep? It wasn't as if waking up with his erection pressed against her arse was bad enough, but talking to him before bed was even worse.

Gritting her teeth, Hermione pushed the door open and walked into the bedchambers. She averted her gaze and made her way to the bathroom. The dungeon may be a cold place, but the bedroom was pleasantly warm "“ warm enough that her husband did not feel the need from pajamas.

Having finished her ablutions, she entered the room, relieved to see that Severus had turned off his light. She slid into bed, pulling the pillow from under her head and placing it between them.

"I would appreciate if you would be in the sitting room by nine," Severus stated as if he were already in the middle of a conversation. "As Head of Slytherin House, I have certain responsibilities. Once of those responsibilities is the safety of those residing here "“ including you."

Sitting up, Hermione grabbed her wand and murmured the spell that granted them light. "What?" she asked snappishly, just wanting to close her eyes and drift blissfully off to sleep.

He sat up, the duvet slipping down to his lap.

Her eyes fell to the smattering of dark, wiry hair that trailed from his chest to just below the covering.

--

Seeing the hunger in her eyes, Severus felt the desire he'd been ignoring ignite. "I would think present circumstances would dictate some measure of awareness from you. We may not have heard from your admirer for several days now, but it does not mean that he is gone. Hogwarts is not impregnable. From now on you should be back here by nine o'clock. I'm sure the ghosts have better things to do than to keep track of you."

His wife sputtered in frustration, getting onto her knees and tossing the pillow to the foot of the bed. "The ghosts have been spying on me?" Her voice was shrill and her breath was raspy. "Was this your idea?"

"Yes." Severus was non-repentant. If she followed suit, he would have no problem exploiting her fierce temper. "I only wanted to help you. Besides, I have things to do here other than follow you around and make sure you don't do anything foolish."

"Something foolish? Like what?" she growled. "Hold a press conference? Start looking for the lunatic? Why should you give a damn, anyway? Your public image has improved? After a few more months, the story of our marriage will become boring. Then we can get divorced and go our separate ways. You "“"

With the speed of a striking snake, Severus pulled her against him, grunting softly as the weight of her upper torso settled across his lap. His lips captured hers, trying to pacify the lust until she begged him to take her.

Hermione moaned, pushing up on her elbows to deepen the connection and unknowingly allowing him even greater liberties.

--

Gliding her tongue along Severus' lips, Hermione shuddered. Her sleep-deprived mind slowed and she gave herself over to the sensations that throbbed between her thighs. This was wrong. How could she feel like this after everything that had happened?

The questioned echoed in the void of her consciousness as his sensual assault continued.

His palm molded her cloth-covered breast, gently brushing his fingertips against her pebbled nipple. Arching her back, she broke the kiss and tried to think rationally. Staring at the shadows her wand cast about the room, Hermione tensed.

"Stop," she whispered, trying to push him away and extract herself from his arms.

But Severus had other ideas as he licked a path toward the back of her ear. "I won't hurt you," he assured seductively, nipping her earlobe gently.

Shuddering, Hermione melted against him, yet continued her struggle to resist his charms. "It-it's not that. The lights"¦"

One of his hands gathered the hem of her nightgown and she caught it between hers. He wasn't drunk. Sober, he would take one look at her and make some excuse and she would be left sexually frustrated and blaming herself.

He released her, coming to his senses and turning on the bedside lamp. Crawling away, Hermione yelped as strong hands grabbed her ankle and pulled her backwards, causing her nightgown to ride up. He flipped her onto her back and moved between her legs.

"He was a fool," Severus whispered, placing kisses along her jaw.

"W-who?" Hermione frowned, her eyes rolling in ecstasy as she felt his callused palm brand her hip.

"The man who squandered your passion." His breath was hot against her cheek. "You're beautiful and I want to see the expression on your face as I show you what you are capable of."

The words melted her resolve, but she still hesitated. "But you said "“"

Placing a gentle kiss upon her lips, Severus silenced her. "Words that were spoken in haste and anger. Words I regret."

As much as she wanted to be swayed by his apologetic words and the endless depths of his eyes, Hermione did not acquiesce. "Please don't."

His hand moved from her hip to her warm mound. "You desire me as much as I desire you, Hermione. Why deny your feelings? I can feel the heat. If I slip my fingers between the lips of your sex, what will I find?"

She blushed, shifting uncomfortably. She wasn't about to tell him that she could feel the wetness between her thighs. "Nothing," she lied breathlessly, wanting to bury her face. All she could do was shake her head from side to side. One hand was trapped by her side while the other pushed against his chest.

Feeling his knuckles brush against her mons, Hermione slipped farther into the silken threads of the web he had spun around her. "Severus," she moaned his name as if pleading for her soul.

His hand traversed the curvy expanse of her midriff and cupped the goose-pimpled skin of her breast, deftly plucking the nipple. "Say it again," he murmured against the column of her neck as he sucked on the sensitive flesh.

"Huh?" she stammered, no longer able to remember any of the reasons why she should deny him.

"My name," he rasped, relinquishing his hold on her breast and shifting so that he was kneeling between her thighs. Grabbing her hips, he angled them to receive him. The only barrier between them were her knickers.

"Please, Severus," she begged, grinding her core against his erection.

He hissed but held still above her. He looked at her discarded wand, then back to her. "You have no idea how much I want to spell your clothing away and have you," he growled.

Releasing her, Severus backed away and slipped his fingertips under the elastic of her knickers. "But why deny myself the pleasure of removing them."

Writhing in front of him, she could feel the throb of want and need mingle in her loins. She was vaguely aware of him dragging her knickers down her legs. Then he grabbed her wand and pointed it at her nightgown. It tore down the middle, but still clung to her sweaty skin.

Severus crawled up her body and peeled the material away from her breasts. She didn't feel the need to cover herself as she watched his head descend and felt his lips and tongue lave her nipple.

Hermione arched her back, earning an appreciative growl from her soon-to-be lover.

"Gryffindor passion," he said between licks and nips. "Just as I suspected."

His fingers answered his earlier question, slipping between her swollen feminine lips and finding her wetness.

Hermione gasped.

"Your skin is like ivory," he stated as he kissed his way from one breast to another.

Moaning, she grabbed his wrist and held it to her center, rotating her hips in an effort to ease her ache.

"Come for me, Hermione." His thumb circled her pert nub and his fingers delved into her heat.

The rhythm was maddening. It was as though he could tell when she was closing in on her orgasm, and just when she was, he would back away. "Please," she cried. Her back bowed in want.

Severus licked the valley of her breasts and made his way down to her belly, stopping for the breath of a second to flick his tongue into the dip of her navel. He nuzzled lower and Hermione froze, poised on a strange ledge that she'd only ever read about.


The first touch of his tongue upon her clitoris sent rippling effects of pleasure coursing through her body. Fisting her hands in his hair, she looked between her legs. Her lust-filled eyes locked with his and she came undone.

--

He could feel and taste her release, grinning as he kept licking her. Every time his tongue swiped the oversensitive bundle of nerves, she shuddered. He had been right. His wife's passion was his for the taking. He could teach her so much and, in the process, benefit in the process.

Giving her clitoris one last lick, Severus mounted her. Rubbing the crown of his shaft between the slick layers of her pussy, he was unable to resist the call of her body. With a brutal thrust, he sheathed himself, cursing his own weakness for the look of startled pain that marred the perfect expression of bliss on her face.

She cried out, her chocolate eyes wide with wonder and questions. He could feel her adjust around him, flexing her muscles. Seeing to his lover's comfort, he stayed still within her. Her body was like a hot vice, welcoming and promising the release that had tormented him this past week.

"Please," she panted beneath him, "don't stop."

Severus couldn't help but laugh bitterly. He couldn't stop if he wanted to, and he really didn't want to. Wanting to feel her orgasm around his cock, he pulled out and rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him and trapping his needy member between their bodies.

She looked confused and frustrated.

"You're in control," he moaned in agony, lifting her hips. "Take me in your hand and guide me."

He almost came as she touched him, but the glide of her slick tightness over his shaft stopped him. She rocked back and forth hesitantly, her inexperience showing.

"Gods," he hissed through clenched teeth. Severus slid his fingers between her feminine lips and plucked her distended nub. She stilled, trying to catch her breath as he coaxed her to another height. She was tightening around him, but his orgasm was so far away that he couldn't possibly reach it with her.

He coaxed her hand between her legs, guiding her fingers against the bundle of nerves. A sensual blush enflamed her skin. Grabbing her hips, Severus pounded into her mindlessly. As much as he wanted to close his eyes and revel in his impending release, he watched her.

Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, a look of concentrated euphoria on her face.

"Look at me," he commanded, thrusting himself as far as he could go and holding himself there.

Hermione's eyes snapped open. They were glazed over and he doubted that she could even see him.

"I"¦ah"¦w-want"¦ugh!" she wailed, her back arching and the walls of her sex clamping around him.

Severus shuddered, using her climax to bring forth his own. It was a powerful end, making him believe in things his cynic soul had long forgotten. He needed to put this in a Pensieve.

--

Ignoring her mentor's smirk when she arrived, Hermione busied herself with her daily tasks. She had tried to charm the various love bites, but she had no practice with that particular charm. She didn't know how she was going to make it through the day.

For one, she was sore in places she had never felt before. Last night had been embarrassing, yet amazingly satisfying. She had woken up alone this morning. Would Severus make love to her again? Was last night a fluke?

"Madam Pomfrey! Madam Pomfrey!" a fifth-year Ravenclaw called excitedly from the hall, helping a fellow student into the ward and onto the nearest bed.

The student groaned, holding her head and muttering nonsensical bits and pieces of various spells.

"I didn't mean to do it," William stated, panic in his voice. "Allison said it would work."

"Conjure a Patronus, Draught of Peace," Allison mumbled softly, wincing in pain and rubbing her forehead.

"What happened?" Poppy questioned, slightly flustered.

"You have to understand," William pleaded. "N.E.W.T.s are only a few weeks away."

"Is it a spell or a potion?" the matron waved her wand over the incoherent student.

"A sp-spell," he answered nervously. "A modified memory spell."

Poppy turned toward Hermione. "Madam Snape?"

"Is this her wand?" Hermione asked, grasping the piece of wood Allison clutched.

William nodded.

Stepping forward, Hermione swished the wand over Allison and recited several incantations.

"We were only trying to memorize the spells," William continued to whine.

A light orange glow surrounded the girl's head and she went slack. Heaving a sigh of relief, Hermione bowed her head. Most of her apprenticeship at St. Mungo's had been spent in the Janus Thickey Ward with the patients with permanent spell damage. Minus the reason for his being there, she had enjoyed seeing Neville every week.

She hadn't been able to help Frank or Alice Longbottom. The Cruciatus Curse was an Unforgivable for a reason. Even though there was no hope for their parents, Neville came every week.

She'd come to know the other residence and had gained a commendation for her work with Memory Charm damage. Although she hadn't been able to cure Gilderoy Lockheart, Hermione had recommended a different treatment option "“ instead of trying to get his memories back, why not make new ones?

She hadn't been able to complete his therapy. Memory Charms weren't as permanent as the wizarding society thought. That's why the Obliviate wasn't an Unforgivable. Unfortunately, Professor Lockheart had hexed himself and had used Ron's broken wand.

Allison's eyes snapped open and she sat up in bed. "W-what happened?"

"Fortuna was watching over you!" Madam Pomfrey lashed out, brushing Allison's hair off her forehead. "Thank Merlin, Madam Snape was here."

"Thank you, Madam Snape," William murmured apologetically.

"The Headmaster will hear about this." Poppy wagged her finger at both students. "I wouldn't count on going to Hogsmeade this tomorrow, if I were the two of you."

Hermione smiled as the matron chastised the children. They probably thought she was being too harsh on them, but they didn't realize that Poppy had been afraid for them.

Walking over to the window, she stared at the village below. She had been cooped up here for a week and was looking forward to getting away for a bit.

*****