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And They Didn\'t Live Happily Ever After	By : ElizabethStump Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 90306 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 51
- 52
- 53
“And They Didn't Live Happily Ever After”
Chapter Fifty-One
“Grudges For Dessert”

Disclaimer: Yeah, we know. Rowling and all the other corporate entities that have a stake in this franchise own Harry Potter, and not me.
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Hermione had never felt so relieved as when Ron announced bright and early that he was going to get in an early morning workout. As she lay in bed, Mrs. Weasley strained to listen to the Floo address he called out, and breathed a sigh of relief when it was the club headquarters for the Chudley Cannons.

'Doesn't make a difference. He could arrive, then turn right around and Floo to the Red Ginseng from there.'

Ignoring the pessimist in her head, which was being more sensible than the part of her which was trying to deny that Ron could be off to have another shag with Zabini, or maybe even his personal trainer, Hermione got ready for the day. There was nervous excitement building within her as she shaved her legs and put the extra effort into primping herself for Severus. She used a deep cleansing shampoo and conditioner to try and bring back some of the luster her hair had lost since she had started working at her current job; moisturizer was slathered and massaged into her skin so it would be soft and inviting to touch. Though Hermione was not a vain creature, she did want to make herself as attractive as possible for her lover. Was it a sense of doing something significant for a man who had made her feel so special that she wanted to go through the effort of preening herself? Perhaps it was the fact she knew she had to compete against the beauty of a hundred other witches who had visited his bed before her? Severus had declared her lovely the day she came to him bedraggled and lacking sleep. Still, she wanted to make the effort for him.

Staring at her lingerie drawer, she muttered, “I have got to get something a bit more enticing than this.” A drawer full of safe and boring white, cream, and flesh-colored lingerie was all she had to pick from, save for the red knickers and thigh-high stockings that went with her new red formal dress. Hermione contemplated if she wanted to swing by Madame Maurelle Mandel's during her lunch break that week, to do a little lingerie shopping. On the one hand, Madame Maurelle would only offer her the best that would look good on her; on the other hand, she wasn't sure if she could face another one of Madame Maurelle's astronomical bills so soon, nor Ron's snide comments. She would have to ask Ginny before they departed for the Red Ginseng.

Dressed and ready early, Hermione fidgeted on the couch while waiting for Mrs. Potter. To while away a little time, the anxiously eager witch trotted off to the kitchen to make some tea. As the kettle began to whistle, Ginny stepped through the fireplace and into the living room.

“Hermione?”

“In here,” came the reply. Now that Ginny had arrived, Hermione wanted to forget about making tea. She turned the kettle off and didn't even stop to put the tea away. “We should go before Ron comes back from his workout,” Hermione explained, not bothering to offer a cup to her friend.

Ginny agreed, and they left in haste.

As Hermione exited the fireplace at the Red Ginseng, she noted the room was bare, except for a few nails and wires left on the wall. Dust bunnies lingered about the corners, and pale squares of green where pictures once hung, contrasting with the darker green of the walls, an obvious statement about the grime coating the walls. Hermione wondered who lived here last and how long the place had been vacant.

Shivering in her skin, Ginny whispered with reverent horror in response to Hermione's silent question, “Macnair used to live here. That is, until the Aurors finally hauled him away.”

With enough of her curiosity satisfied, Hermione just wanted to leave. The knowledge alone made the bare desolation of their surroundings more sinister than forlorn and neglected.

A quick check confirmed that the coast was clear and they could ascend the stairs unobserved. Ginny waited by Draco's door, not knocking on his door until Hermione reached the fourth floor.

The echo of Ginny's hand had not faded before Hermione heard Malfoy's door open and shut once more.

Standing in front of Severus' door, Hermione took one deep cleansing breath. The anticipation thrumming through her body made her quake, and she knew her voice would quiver as well if she spoke. This time she knew she would wind up in Severus' bed, enjoying not only the mental, but physical company of each other. Hermione raised her hand and knocked upon her lover's door, unable to wait any longer to be back in his embrace.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Never had Severus anticipated the arrival of anyone at his door more than while waiting for Hermione that morning. Even waiting for her on Friday was with a certain amount of dread, but this was different. No more lies, masks, or pretense, just the open warmth of his lover, and her acceptance of him just as he was.

He had wanted to do so much more with Hermione on Friday than just lay her out flat on her back and fuck her like an unfettered animal. Well, there were the times she was on her knees, or he was on his back, and then a few other positions he introduced her to that made her gasp in surprise when his cock stroked the inside of her in a way she had never experienced before. The point was that she had complained these many weeks of a lack of foreplay from her husband, and yet Severus did nothing more than take her without much beyond a lot of humping, a bit of friction, and a whole lot of orgasms. In the end, Severus chalked it up to a feverishly blind want that needed to be satisfied, and Hermione certainly exclaimed, during her many religious epiphanies, that she had never felt anything so good in her whole life. Still, Severus wanted to bring Hermione to a slow, unbearable boil of irrational desire. He wanted to make Hermione beg with the same desperation that he did the night he ground himself so urgently against her bottom in the kitchen and on the settee. Severus wanted to see her face twisted in agony, pleading to be filled and released, to only find satisfaction from his vast array of techniques he could test upon her – to see which ones would provide the most vocal and pleading responses.
Severus was pacing the main room, thinking about how he could slowly seduce her, while keeping his own raging hormones in check when he heard her knock at the door. His pride demanded he walk over leisurely, but the biological part of his mind pushed him to rush over and open the door quickly.

All the rehearsed hellos that they both practiced in their minds disappeared. Hermione rushed over the threshold to Severus, locking her arms around his neck while Severus wrapped his arms around her, slamming the door shut in the process. Necks bent and craned, and lips met lips. Though it had only been almost thirty-six hours since they had last seen each other, they kissed each other as if it had been a lifetime parted from one another. Their hunger for each other had become more intense after their joining. Like any addiction, their only solace was to consume more of what they craved.

Hermione grabbed at Severus' body, and he pulled her to him with equal fervor; all his plans for a slow teasing seduction were momentarily abandoned. As they kissed, Severus' hands started pulling at her cloak, while her hands were already pulling at his shirttails. The cloak hastily left on the floor was joined by Severus' shirt moments later. Feeling Hermione's nails scraping along his back brought him back to the present, as he pulled his mouth from hers to let a long suffering sigh escape from his lips. He didn't care how much Hermione knew he needed her, as his arousal pressed firmly against her abdomen was more telling than any vocalizations.

Realizing if he didn't slow himself down, he would only have her clothes half off before burying himself in her, Severus pulled back. Hermione made to reach for him, to close the gap he created, but Severus retreated, giving her his best seductive smile and a slight shake of his head. He had to slow down, but that didn't mean Hermione had to, in his mind; in fact, he wanted to put his witch into such a state that any stimulation, be it tactile, auditory, or visual, would make her body tremble with desire.

Thinking correctly that this was a game, Hermione smiled at him and tried once more to catch Severus within her grasp. Ducking to the side, Severus stepped around her so quickly that before she understood what he had done the wizard was standing behind her, pinning her against his chest, her arms trapped at her sides.

“Not so fast,” he warned her with a playful growl.

With Severus' arms caging her and his hands possessively splayed across her chest and stomach, Hermione could not help but remember her sexual fantasy of her Death Eater-clad gigolo in a dark cloak taking her roughly from behind while chained spread eagle. She whimpered, surrendering herself to the moment by offering up her neck. Severus latched onto her neck, living up to that odd rumor of him being a vampire that circulated around while she was still his student.

Endorphins flushed through her system, turning a slightly painful love bite into something pleasurable. Instinctively arching her back in order to rub her bottom up against him, and enjoying the fact he was losing enough control to grind back against her, she placed one hand atop Severus' and egged him on to palm her breast.

This would not do. The gigolo was losing control of himself once more, and one thing he always was, was in control in the bedroom. It was the only place he could exercise any dominance and direct the outcome, since everything in his life had been dictated by the whims of others. He would not let Hermione direct his actions, despite the delicious feel of her round bottom swiveling sweetly in just the right spot. Holding fast, Severus grasped the encouraging hand by the wrist and brought it up over her head.

Hermione had never felt so vulnerable or more turned on in her life. Severus' grip felt like iron. Not only was he resisting her attempts to be seductive by not jumping on her and taking her immediately – like Ron – thus prolonging the foreplay, but she trusted Severus enough to give up control to him.

Over the years, Hermione had admitted to herself that she was somewhat of a control freak. She had tried to conduct every part of her life so she could obtain the predicted outcome. She had mapped out every step and even prepared for things that might go wrong. Now, however... though she knew they would reach a pleasurable destination together, she had no idea what Severus would do next, or what he would make her do. It was the journey towards a blissful orgasm that held the fascination and allure for her. To what depths would Severus make her abandon her normally logical self to become a creature of pure physical sensation, totally lost within the moment without a thought beyond her impending climax, she could scarcely imagine, though she was desperate to experience it once again.

“Frog march” would not have been the proper term for what Severus did to Hermione to propel her towards the bed, as she went willingly, but there was a small bit of playful resistance on her part.

Once at the edge of the bed, Severus let go and stepped back. Though his gaze smoldered enough to singe parchment, it made an icy chill of anticipation race up her spine. Leaving Hermione at the edge of the bed, he backed up further until he could sit on the settee. Flopping onto said piece of furniture with feline grace, Severus waved his hand casually to indicate he was indeed the one in control and coolly ordered her, “Undress. Slowly.”

One of the things on Severus' agenda was to help Hermione get over this complete lack of confidence where her sexuality and body was concerned. This exercise was supposed to not only help this timid creature before him bloom into a confident temptress capable of paralyzing even him with her sensuality, but fulfill one of his many fantasies about her. Even with her lack of self-confidence, Hermione could still make him temporarily lose rational thought and revert to his baser nature.

Out of habit, Hermione set her wand on the bedside table and turned her back to Severus, as she would undressing in front of her husband.

“No, turn around and undress for me,” he commanded in a soft, but firm tone.

Through unsure lowered lashes, Hermione looked at him. Her uncertainty was threatening to overwhelm her, obviously never having explored any part of her voyeuristic and exhibitionist nature.

To rein in some calm on the situation, Severus elaborated, “How have you imagined yourself undressing for me when you're alone? How have you fantasized about teasing me with a glimpse of your body?”

The poor witch had been exposed to plain vanilla sex, and Severus knew he was pushing the boundaries of what she had ever experienced, but he thrilled in the idea of making her taste what seemed like forbidden fruits, gorging her on them until she became addicted to them and him. She needed to relearn what foreplay was all about. It wasn't just the lubrication of the body, but the honing of one's mind to a certain level of excitement and anticipation.

The blush that crept upon her cheek and her inability to meet his eye was countermanded by Hermione's slow and deliberate unbuttoning of her blouse.

Though not prone to chit-chat in the bedroom, he knew she needed reassurance of her progress from him. “Yes, just like that. Imagine it's my hands undoing your blouse. How would you like my hands to undress you?” To give her additional encouragement, Severus shifted in his seat and readjusted himself, watching her with unblinking eyes.

His mouth watering, he swallowed unconsciously as Hermione slowly pulled her blouse off one shoulder. Her fingers lightly caressed her arms as the fabric slipped past her elbow before she attended the other shoulder. Hermione's eyes would occasionally dart to his, checking to make sure she was doing it right. Each time she would look away quickly, unable to believe Severus was looking at her with unadulterated hunger. Adding to the growing list of things that differentiated Severus from Ron in the bedroom, Hermione realized that when Ron looked at her lustfully, she felt cheap and uncertain; when Severus looked at her in the way he was doing right then, she felt aroused and attractive. Emboldened, she turned her back to Severus so that he could watch the fabric slip from her shoulders, exposing the expanse of skin to enjoy. She had remembered how Severus commented that he liked the view of her back before.

Glancing over her shoulder, Hermione was somewhat shocked to see Severus lightly stroking his erection through his trousers. Ron had always treated masturbation as a private matter, and she had done so as well, conducting hers in solitude, too. It was strange to see a man touching himself so freely in front of her.

Severus growled appreciatively, “Lovely, simply lovely.”

Keeping her back to Severus, she unzipped her zipper slowly. When she started to bend over, giving Severus a perfect view of her arse, she suddenly realized she still had her tights on. Hermione thought the sight of her in nothing but heels, plain white cotton knickers and tights on would look rather silly and so she began to try and rectify the situation by pulling her tights down before her skirt, but Severus stopped her.

“No. No, leave them on for now. Take your skirt off, and then you may remove tights,” he directed her in a distracted manner, his eyes firmly glued to the sight of the half-undressed witch before him.

Letting go of the waistband of her skirt, she allowed it to fall from her hips to puddle on the floor. Hermione stepped out of it and bent over to pick it up. The hum of appreciation from Severus made her prolong the act of standing back upright. She carried out the removal of her tights with deliberate torpidity. While bent over, Hermione glanced back and viewed from a sideways angle Severus slightly slack-jawed in awe. When he caught her watching him, the mouth snapped shut and he gave a reassuring smile to continue in order to go back to his unobserved inspection of her backside.

Severus watched as Hermione silently crawled up onto his bed and lay back with her knickers still on. He considered asking her to remove them, but said nothing, knowing that the hint of clothing could be more erotic than being completely nude. To continue his observations, Severus walked over to the edge of the bed and stood there with no intention of sitting down.

Hermione gazed up at him expectantly.

A faint smile curled at the corner of Severus' lips. “I want to know how you pleasure yourself. I want to know how you arouse yourself.”

Hermione simultaneously frowned and blushed. “I...” She just wanted Severus to undress and make her feel wonderful again. She had been touching and fingering herself for years as it was, but now she wanted to feel Severus' fingers and not her own.

His hand reached out and stroked her cheek, brushing hair away from her face in the process. “How can I learn if you don't show me?”

“I could tell you,” Hermione blurted out, desperate to feel the intensity of Severus consuming her whole once more instead of lying on his bed mostly naked and being directed to play with herself. Though Severus gave her no reason to think he found any fault with it, she still felt very self-conscious about her body because of the many deprecating comments she had received from Ron over the years.

His fingers swept once more, gently brushing them over her eyes. “Close your eyes,” he instructed her in soft reassuring tones, trying to coax her. “Let my voice guide you. You're lying in bed, you're all alone in bed at home.” Hermione momentarily frowned harshly, but quickly shoved aside the many reasons why she would find herself alone at home while Ron was gone. “No one will disturb you.”

“Can we dim it a bit in here?” Hermione requested as she sat up. “I'm used to it being a bit darker.”

Complying with her request, Severus waved his wand, and the drapes drew themselves closed. “Better?”

She smiled back and nodded shyly.

Severus knew he could have just gotten undressed and had her, and she would have probably been perfectly happy with that, but he wanted to give her much more than a good shag. He wanted to bring out the hidden sexual goddess held within that ill-at-ease shell Hermione wore as battered armor. “Continue.”

Hermione sighed with resignation and lay back down.

This was not going exactly as planned for Severus. She was resisting the moment, and looked as if she was going to revolt at any second. Changing tactics, he said, “Imagine you have me tied down. I'm unable to touch you, I can only watch. You want to tease me, torture me, tantalize me by touching yourself, making me wish it was my hands upon you.” It worked, as he saw Hermione smile and willingly close her eyes.

Keeping her eyes closed, Hermione stroked her face with her finger tips a few times, bringing her hands down to trail a single finger down from her pulse point to the hollow of her throat.

Severus studied the way she touched herself, alternating broad sweeps with the pads of her fingers to a single one, then back to multiple points of contact, each varying in speed and pressure. There was one long, slow deep inhalation of breath when her fingers reached her breasts, but instead of touching the areolas and nipples, she teased herself, dragging fingers along the sides and underside of her breasts. As he watched, Severus silently slipped out of his trousers. Hermione was so lost in her own world, she barely noticed the slight shift on the mattress as he lay down next to her, without touching her, to continue watching.

Severus’ cock was rigid from observing Hermione's almost innocuous touching of herself and the small hums of pleasure coming from the back of her throat. It was different from how many other women he observed pleasured themselves, usually going straight for their own breasts or vagina, but Hermione was taking her time. By the time Hermione lightly touched her own breasts, her nipples were peaked and aching for any stimulation. As Hermione ran the pad of her finger across the hardened nipples, Severus unconsciously licked his lips. He wanted nothing more than to lean over and take one of her plump nipples in her mouth and suckle on it like a greedy piglet, but he could wait a little while longer.

Plucking at one nipple, Hermione sighed as her back arched.

The responsiveness of Hermione’s body to her own touching tested Severus' will power to remain quiet and still.

To his relief, Hermione moved her hands down her torso towards her stomach, where she played with her navel and paid particular attention to the area around her hipbones and along the thigh joint.

She played with her curls, gently pulling at the hair before finally slipping a finger down between her lips.

Severus sat up and swung around on the bed to watch from a better angle. He was pleased when Hermione spread her legs slightly; however, the wizard wasn't sure if she did this for better access or for his viewing benefit. Either way, Hermione's shyness seemed to have departed a while ago, confirmed when her toe blindly reached out and stroked Severus' chest and arm.

Though originally reluctant, Hermione became increasingly turned on by the idea of touching herself in front of Severus. There was a forbidden aspect to it that enticed her. And though there is nothing morally wrong with the act itself, it was something she had never pictured herself doing in front of a man. The more she touched herself, hearing small hums of appreciation from Severus, the more she was spurred on to continue. She still couldn't bear to see him watching her, so she kept her eyes closed, but the idea that he was watching her inspired her. Finally relaxed, her fingers ventured lower, and she sensed him moving to get a better look. Knowing Severus was now gazing at her most intimate regions was initially unnerving, but she rationalized that if he could stick his cock in there, then what was the harm in him looking there as well?
As her fingers moved languidly, stroking her outer lips, then sliding between them, Severus simply murmured, “Beautiful.”

Hermione was relieved to hear this from Severus. She had no basis of comparison to compare those particular parts of her body to other women, so it was reassuring that he didn't make any odd comments, unlike what Ron had said to her in those too candidly insensitive moments of his.

Heartened, Hermione spread her legs a little wider and began stroking herself, using tried and true techniques to make her reach orgasm quickly. It didn't take her long, as just the physical presence of Severus was enough to enhance the mood more than anything she could have done by herself alone at home. Her breaths became strained and short as her hips began to rock slightly, keeping very quiet while her fingers worked quickly over her clit, while she worked a couple fingers in and out of herself. She could orgasm without his assistance, but Hermione wanted to feel her G-spot stimulated as she came. More so, she would have felt more comfortable with Severus participating with her instead of just watching her.

“Please, Severus. Please help me. Just stroke that spot inside of me. Help me,” she pleaded with a whinge.

Sensing she was close, he obliged. He had learned enough for the time being that he was now eager to watch her climax. Licking two fingers to wet them, he slowly pressed his fingers alongside Hermione's.

She removed her own fingers and put to use her now free hand on her nipples. As Severus eased his fingers into her, Hermione let out a strangled gasp. Her back arched and arms reaching above in surrender, her hands grasping at the sheets. As her hips began to gyrate and rock in order to match each movement of Severus' hand, she completely abandoned all intentions of masturbating anymore. Feeling her lover's fingers inside of her only fed the fire, demanding that she join with him as soon as possible.

“Severus, I need you,” she sighed. Hermione held out her arms to encourage Severus to crawl up between her legs and slide into her.

Severus didn't want to rush this. Oh, he understood about desire and hunger and the base need to copulate, but they had all day, and he wanted to bring Hermione up to a slow and unbearable boil before finally sinking himself into her at the moment when she would be beyond all reason, basically irrational and senseless with wanton need. At the moment, Hermione had not even had her first orgasm yet. Considering that most of her sexual experience was with a wizard who was done before she had yet even begun, Severus understood her trained reaction to shag before the moment was over.

“Shhhh,” he soothed, keeping the movements of his hand steady and slow, stroking her sacred spot with each pass. It pleased him to note how her eyes would look heavier the longer he stimulated her G-spot. “We have all day. There is no rush. Relax, enjoy the moment.”

This seemed to put Hermione in a different frame of mind altogether. No longer were the small noises from the back of her throat rising in pitch, like some urgent need to be sated. She sighed and relaxed, still moving her hips in response to her lover's touch.

Stretching his arm out, Severus' other free hand began to touch Hermione in the same manner that she touched herself, mimicking the movement. Instead of small hums of pleasure, Hermione gasped and groaned loudly, arching her back once more into his touch. When the pads of his fingers stroked the skin over her hip bones, the reaction he elicited from her was akin to some women's orgasmic bliss, complete with crying out. Unable to resist, Severus dipped his head and began to kiss his way down Hermione's stomach until his mouth reached the spot he wanted to devour. Before his tongue even darted out for that first tentative, teasing taste, her legs were shaking with intoxicating anticipation and her breaths were short rasping grunts.

Elation would be a word that could describe Hermione's reaction to Severus' deft tongue work between her legs, as much as “nice brush work and use of light” could be used to describe a Rembrandt painting. She could honestly say in retrospect that she never felt anything quite as exquisite as what Severus did to her, making her body feel things she had only imagined or heard about in excerpts of trashy romance novels that Ginny used to quote to her years ago.

By the time Hermione climaxed, she was beginning to realize that she had missed out on a lot of good foreplay over the years if it could be this great. Feeling temporarily sated, Hermione sighed, feeling pleasantly exhausted for the moment, but soon discovered she would get no respite.

Having brought his lover to a rousing orgasm the likes of which should have prompted Draco to knock on his ceiling a few times – if it were not for the fact that Hermione remembered halfway through to put up a Silencing Charm so the rest of the building would not hear their activities – Severus was ready. He had brought Hermione a great deal of joy, and a sore throat from all her screaming, but watching the twisting grimace of her face as she came made him want to join her more than anything else.

As he slid up between her legs to position himself, Hermione's eyes lit up with understanding that he had yet to take care of his own needs yet. Suddenly realizing that all the pleasure she had experienced was entirely for her alone, made her welcome him into her with eagerness.

The feeling of Severus sliding into Hermione was nearly overwhelming for both parties. Hermione was still relatively tight, and all the blood engorging her lower region made everything even snugger. Once again for Hermione, it was finally being filled and feeling complete with something long, hard, and thick inside of her.

Knowing Hermione’s needs had been more than taken care of, he took everything he could from her in the act, culminating in savagely thrusting into her. He was encouraged by her cries of exaltation, some of them muffled as they kissed fiercely. Though normally quiet during the act, Severus found himself to be more vocal than usual and groaned and screamed as he approached climax, which only seemed to excite Hermione even more. As he came, he could not open his eyes, as they were shut tight from the total paralysis his body experienced as he emptied himself into Hermione.

Hermione watched with awe as her lover lost himself in the act of making love to her, and though she nearly came once again, she didn't mind for once. Severus had assured her they had all day, and she still felt blissful from her previous orgasm.

As Severus nearly collapsed on top of Hermione, exhausted but satisfied, he noted the completely elated smile on his lover's face.

Hermione immediately snuggled up next to a panting Severus, feeling the light spangle of sweat across his chest as she threw a possessive arm across him. She blew lightly across his brow to help him cool down.

Severus closed his eyes and enjoyed her tender ministrations, the sort that two lovers might share. He certainly did not engage in this sort of intimacy with his paying clients, even when they asked for a bit of post-coital cuddling. Any cuddling done with other witches, he did so grudgingly. But Hermione was different in many ways. For one, he didn't wear his mask during the act, something he found liberating; the other was the fact that for once, he had some emotional attachment to the woman he was shagging. Though he might claim sex is sex, there was an undefinable aspect of caring for Hermione that took the simple transitory act of fucking and transcended it into something more visceral and substantive.

“Would it be cliché if I said that was amazing?” Hermione asked with a weak laugh. She brushed a damp tendril of hair out of his eyes.

Opening his eyes, Severus smiled. “Yes, it would, but I'll allow it just this once.”

Hermione gave a playful laugh with a nudge to his ribs before settling back down and snuggling up next to him once more.

Severus didn't want to ask, but he knew he should. “Did you take both the vials I gave you the other night?”

Lightly humming to herself, she then replied, “No. All I needed was one, and I slept through the night.”

He tried to keep his voice light with none of the gravity of the subject he was going to bring up. “You should have taken both. One was a sleeping potion, the other was for your protection.”

“You don't have to worry about me. I'm already on contraceptive potions.”

“It's not just contraception the potion provides, but protection,” he added.

“Protection from...” There was a pause in her question.

Severus hoped she would put the pieces together without having to spell them out.

She did not finish her question.

“The second potion I gave you protects you from not only pregnancy, but all maladies of a carnal nature.”

Hermione stiffened and sat up. Her stomach began to twist into knots upon the realization that she could have contracted something from Severus. “You mean venereal disease,” she clarified in a tone bordering on accusatory.

“Yes,” Severus bit back sharply. “But I would not have given you any disease, as I take the potion as well, as required by Ministry standards.”

“Ministry standards?” she practically shrieked.

“Yes.” He knew if he did not clarify a few things, it was going to be a long morning, but even given the situation, Severus knew this was going to be an unpleasant conversation, particularly for Hermione. “Back in the late seventeenth century, there was a problem with many wizards contracting venereal diseases, mostly through Knockturn Flies.”

“Knockturn Flies?” she interrupted.

“A period term used for damsels who used to frequent Knockturn Alley to sell their favors at the time. Damsel is also the name of an insect... damsel flies... I think you can see the origin of the term now.” Severus sat up and rolled over and reached into his bedside table and pulled out another vial of the one he had hoped Hermione took the other night.

“Wizards were coming home and infecting their wives,” he explained. “Since many Ministry officials also did not want to explain to their wives why they had to take certain potions or have the fabric of society disintegrate upon news their husband gave them the clap, or suddenly have bastard sons showing up on their doorstep years later, they made it requisite for all persons of a certain profession and clients to take an elixir. It avoids complications of pathological and societal nature.”

Lifting up the vial for her inspection, he concluded by saying: “I take this, as does Draco, even Ginny. Considering the fact you do not know with whom your husband has been with other than Zabini, I recommend you take this for your protection at home as well.” Severus knew he had to bring up that factor as well, concerning Ron Weasley's other possible sexual partners, but his clarification and illumination of that fact pushed Hermione into tears.

She didn't want to admit it, but the thought of Ron bringing home something to their bed, and infecting her, had crossed her mind more than once on Saturday. Hermione took the vial from Severus' hand and swallowed it quickly. “Will this interfere with the potions I'm on now?”

“No, they are designed to not counter any contraceptive potions you are currently taking.”

It was bad enough to realize her lover had to take this for his job, but that aspect of his “profession” had to leak into her secluded sanctuary, soiling what would otherwise seem like an ideal and perfect extramarital affair. Lying back down, Hermione felt drained. Without trying to stop herself, she began to cry. She didn't try to hide it, but she tried to do it quietly as she lay next to Severus. Hermione knew he could tell, as her tears were rolling off her cheek and nose onto his chest and shoulder.

He said nothing. Stroking her hair and back was the only sign that he acknowledged her suffering, though he would have done that even if she wasn't crying.

After a while, Hermione rose and went to the bathroom to take care of her needs and wash up her face. A little Lovely Lavender's Puffy Poof Eye Crème and she felt presentable.

Shuffling back to the bed in Severus' black silk dressing gown, she found the raven-haired wizard sitting up in bed with a predatory smile. Hermione heard him cast some Charm spoken in Arabic and she instantly felt freshened up. Before she could ask what Charm he cast, he pulled her into his bed and announced with a growl that it was time to begin more research into the Male Enhancement Potion, knowing a bit of “research” always cheered her up.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Thoughts about her husband, or of Severus' official profession, stayed at bay –mostly – during the next few hours. She was too busy enjoying what could simply be called the best one-day jaunt she ever had. Granted, she never left Diagon Alley, but it certainly was more enjoyable than any trip out to some castle ruins or a hike.

Lunch time rolled around and Hermione was dismayed when Severus demanded his silk dressing gown and had nothing for her to wear. She stole his linen shirt instead, happy to have something covering her that smelled of him. Walking into the kitchen, her nostrils were assaulted by the scent of fresh garlic and crushed rosemary; it was strong, but a pleasantly savory scent.

“Since you offered to help me in the kitchen, I thought I would take you up on your offer,” Severus announced.

“Great!” she answered brightly with eagerness. “What do you want me to do?”

Severus handed her a bowl full of apples and a peeling knife. “I thought we'd start with something that is also an exercise commonly done by Potions apprentices. Peel one apple, and try to take off the skin only, leaving as much flesh of the apple as you can.”

“This is an exercise?” she asked with uncertainty.

If Hermione truly was his apprentice years ago, he would have snapped at her for questioning him. However, he knew her question was merely to seek an understanding behind the exercise.

“Some ingredients are very rare and costly. Peeling apples is a good way to hone your skills of using a knife while wasting as little as possible in the preparation process.” He could see the comprehension in her eyes. “Peel one, and then I will see how you've done after I've put the lamb into the oven.”

Wanting to make a good impression, Hermione peeled very carefully. Though she was fairly skilled with a knife after working at her job for years, she tried to be extra careful when peeling the fruit. By the time the lamb was set in the oven and Severus had cleaned his hands, she was done.

Sitting up with a straight back and a proud gleam in her eyes, she presented Severus with the peeled apple.

“Show me the peelings.”

She scooped them up and handed them over to the Potions master. There was no smile, but there was no frown either. “Not bad for someone who hasn't begun their apprenticeship.”

“Not bad? I barely took any skin off!” she protested.

Severus took the knife from her, and scraped the edge of the blade along the back of the peel, showing Hermione just how much of the fruit she had taken off. Presenting her the juicy pulp stuck to the blade, he said softly, but firmly, “That, my dear, on a rare Miniature Man-Eating Masdevallia orchid seed pod is about ten Galleons, given the price runs at about forty Galleons for each pod.”

“Well, if it's that expensive and precious, I'd be more careful,” Hermione insisted defensively. “And the price is now fifty Galleons a pod,” she corrected him.

“The point is that apples are a cheap means of practicing your skills so you don't waste anything when it comes time to prepare rarer, costly ingredients.”

“Show me.”

Severus felt a bit self-conscious. Though cooking had helped keep his skills somewhat up to par, they were not nearly to the level they were when he was still a teacher at Hogwarts wielding a knife every day for lengthy periods. Picking up the apple, he studied it for a moment before putting blade to fruit. In one quarter the time it took Hermione to peel her apple, Severus had peeled his. He looked at it and shook his head.

'I have gotten rusty.'

Hermione studied one peeling and could find no fault with his technique. By the grim set in his mouth, she could tell he wasn't pleased with his own attempt.

With a grumble, Severus mumbled, “I could do better.”

“Better? There's nothing but peel.”

Severus took the blade of the knife and scraped a thin film of creamy pulp away from the skin to show her his own shortcoming. Before Hermione could comment, the Potions master took another apple and began to carefully peel it slowly. He presented Hermione with a peel that was translucent with virtually no flesh left on it. Holding it up to the light, she could see the light from the window through it and could make out faint shapes.

“That is the level of skill you must attain during your apprenticeship.” Severus fetched another knife and presented it to Hermione. “I'm baking a French apple tartin for dessert. You can begin practicing and I can get a little practice in as well.”

As they peeled apples, Severus was reminded of his own apprenticeship, where Potions master Chuff used to make a game out of it. Though Reginald Chuff was a bastard at times, he knew how to make even the most mundane tasks seem a bit fun. Usually shots of Ogden's Single Malt Firewhisky were involved.

This time, he decided to make a different game. So far, he had performed cunnilingus on Hermione no less than three times, but he had yet to ask for her to reciprocate.

Severus knew of Hermione's attitude toward fellatio when reciprocation was given poorly and grudgingly. However, he had performed with zeal and produced the most pleasant results for both parties. Now it was time to engage Hermione's interest in the act.

Reaching for another apple, Severus paused and said casually, as if suddenly struck by inspiration, “I have an idea for another wager.” He did not restrain the amused lilt in his voice.

Knowing that tone very well by now, Hermione willingly took the bait and said, “And just what do you have in mind this time?”

His eyes drifted to the half-full bowl of unpeeled apples. “We'll each take an apple, similar in size. I'll even take the larger one if you think your skill is not good enough. We'll each peel our apple. If your peelings weigh no more than twice mine, I will do anything you ask of me in bed.” Severus knew he'd win, as he had seen how much flesh Hermione left on her peelings.

“And if they weigh more than twice yours?” Hermione asked, trying to be demure, but failing miserably as a knowing smirk crept upon her lip, and her face flushed brightly.

As his hand reached out to trace her lips with his thumb, his voice dropped to a husky whisper in earnest anticipation of her answer. “Then I would like to have your lips wrapped around parts of me that have yet to be caressed by them.”

Hermione could feel the heat rushing to her face. When phrased that way, and with that voice, she was more eager than ever to give Severus a blow job. Of course she had wanted to return the favor he had done to her earlier, but she felt very uncomfortable broaching the subject. It's not that she was a prude; she was just uncomfortable with bringing up her desire to try. Though there was nothing wrong with a witch wanting to give head, she couldn't bring herself to appear enthusiastic.

“I could agree to those terms,” she said quietly, her head ducked down, feeling the urge to tuck in her shoulders and cross her legs at the ankle like a timid maid.

Severus could see her coyness was not some act.

Each took care to peel carefully. Though his attention was on his own apple, he could see Hermione glancing at his trying to observe his technique. Since Severus was not allowed a set of scales, even for cooking, or Charms that replicated them, Hermione cast her own Weighing Charm. It was deemed that Hermione's peelings weighed exactly twice Severus', since the Charm was only accurate to the nearest quarter of a gram. Technically, Hermione won. They both knew that if a proper set of scales could have been utilized that Severus could have possibly won.

As Severus made the crust, Hermione sliced the peeled apples. Assisting Severus in the kitchen made Hermione a bit melancholy, knowing this is what she would prefer in a marriage than what she had with Ron. They worked together, Severus requesting ingredients and Hermione Summoning them for him, then she would return them to their place in the cupboards as he requested the next. It was all very mundane, but even the simple things in life could hold great meaning for her. Once the tartin was in the oven, Marf was instructed when to pull it out to cool on the counter, as they both knew they would be too busy fulfilling the wager to bother later.

Once lunch was over, they wandered back to the other room. Standing next to the bed, Severus awaited Hermione's direction. He preferred to not be in a situation reminding him of his obligation to fuck other women by fulfilling their requests, but – he reminded himself – Severus wanted to please Hermione. This was for her, and not done for an exchange of coin or to perpetuate his cover.

He prompted her to make her request. “Tell me what you want?”

“Please sit on the bed.” Hermione had no idea how to ask for guidance without sounding vulgar, but she tried anyway. Kneeling next to the bed, she insinuated herself between his knees. While she stroked her hands over the tops of his thighs, she tried to meet his eyes but couldn't. Instead, her eyes fixated on her lover's semi-flaccid member laying there between his legs. “I want... I want...” She couldn't bring herself to flat out ask.

“Tell me.” Severus placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face up.

“I want you to tell me how you want my lips to caress other parts of your body.” 'There. I said it, and it didn't sound too vulgar.'

The raven-haired wizard cupped her cheek and gave her his most gentle and reassuring smile – an act he did not do very often. “Touch me with your hands.”

By beginning with simple touch, Severus could eventually work Hermione up to fellatio itself. Her hand was small compared to his own, and it felt so wonderful wrapped around his stiffening length. With awe, the witch commented how much it amazed her about the difference in size between soft and hard. All comments from her abated, and Severus barely noticed once her mouth found its way to the tip of his cock. Tentative licks only seemed to increase the anticipation of her mouth engulfing him entirely.

When Hermione was a student, her over-eagerness was somewhat nettlesome to Severus in the classroom, but in the case of this lesson, it was quite welcomed. She was observant to notice changes in his breathing, and was willing to experiment with techniques with the slightest prompting, and sometimes with no prompting at all. It was an exercise in experimentation, testing to see which swirl of the tongue elicited the greatest response, and if alternating with slow then fast then slow was better than a nice steady rhythm.

Lost in the moment, Severus barely remembered to warn her he was about to orgasm. Either he didn't enunciate it very well, she didn't hear him, or she didn't mind; Severus came with her lips still firmly wrapped around him. There was a moment when she choked as she tried to swallow, and then finally pulled away. By the time Severus opened his eyes, Hermione was already Summoning a tissue for her face and hair.

“Allow me.” Taking his wand, he waved it over Hermione's head and said, “Kala ma'hab'bi irruh.”

That same refreshing feeling returned to Hermione as the anointed parts of her were suddenly clean. “What spell was that?” she asked with great curiosity.

“An old Arabic spell,” he told her, as it was nothing, and not caring to elaborate.
“Really? Where did you learn it?” Hermione practically flopped on her belly and propped her chin in her hands in eagerness to find out more. Sexual charms in the British wizarding world seemed as taboo a subject as flashing knickers and piano legs during the Victorian period.

Severus could see he could not really get out of answering her question, so decided he might as well tell her. She might even appreciate the result of her question, thus satisfying intellectual and sexual needs.

“Accio Saha al kw'wai'yis nasa'mi: gemel sha'h'wa'ni sa'hir.” With his wand still held in the air, a large and not so dusty tome came flying out of Severus' study. Hermione had never been invited into that room, but she had seen Severus on previous occasions disappear into the room to fetch the odd book now and then, for their discussions.

The book landed on the bed with a soft thud. It was bound in carmine leather with ornate gold Arabic calligraphy engraved into the cover. Passing a hand reverently over the cover, Severus knew Hermione would ask how he obtained such a rare copy, in the original Arabic, so he volunteered to tell her.

“I used to take commissions during the summer to pad my vault. The usual method of payment was half upfront, and the other half upon delivery of the potion. One particular client had some financial difficulty that nearly bankrupted him while I was brewing the potion, so as payment he allowed me to take any book from his extensive library as the other half of the payment.”

“Who was it?” she inquired, wondering who had such a book collection.

“That is a matter that I can never discuss. But I can tell you that it was one of the more impressive private collections I had seen. Though most of the books he had were either available at Hogwarts in the Restricted Section, or in the private collections of many of the professors there – which we regularly shared amongst ourselves – I came across this and knew I'd never see another book like it again.” Severus would not have been surprised if Albus had a book like this in his own extensive collection, but the old Headmaster was never in a habit of sharing books with “morally questionable content.” Dumbledore may have been wise and a bit odd, but he still projected the proper facade of a gentleman wizard, a product of being born and raised during the Victorian era.

“Was it Lucius Malfoy?” Hermione had to ask, though she knew she might risk irritating her lover.

“No. And if you had guessed correctly, I still would have said no. End of discussion,” he told her firmly with a tone that he would not brook any more questions on the matter.

Knowing when she had pushed him to the limit, Hermione went back to the topic of the book. “So what is the title again? What does it translate into? And I didn't know you knew Arabic as well.”

“Saha al kw'wai'yis nasa'mi: gemel sha'h'wa'ni sa'hir. Loosely translated: 'Awakening of the Perfumed Soul: The Sensual Sorcerer.' And yes, I forgot to include Arabic in my list of languages that I know. But as I was saying, from what I could tell from research, with a little help from Madam Pince, this was written before the Muggle version, 'The Perfumed Garden for the Soul's Recreation.' One bibliophile I owled with informed me that there is speculation amongst several wizard Arabic scholars about the author of both The Sensual Sorcerer and The Perfumed Garden.”

Hermione settled herself on the bed ready to listen, and raised and crossed her ankles. When Severus went off on one of his informative tangents, they usually proved to be most informative and illuminating.

“Some think that the author of 'The Sensual Sorcerer' was a wizard in the court of Sheikh Nefzaoui, the author of 'The Perfumed Garden'. It is rumored that Sheikh Nefzaoui knew of the wizard's magical capabilities. Though there are some authors of the time period who might be attributed to writing the book, any correlation between wizarding documents and Muggle ones to confirm wizards who were in the Sheikh's court were destroyed when the Hafsid dynasty collapsed, and the Ottomans took over. Changes in power do not always go smoothly, and fires have a habit of erasing history,” Severus noted with some lament. He was not about to go into his own self-pitying maudlin funk about how the death of Albus brought about equally disastrous changes, and quickly continued on with his historical literary oration. “But analysis of writing style points to Ibrahim Zakariya, the Elder. He wrote several informative and anecdotal books on Transfiguration that are still used as reference in the Arabic world.”

Opening the book, Severus opened it to a page featuring a moving illustration of a mostly nude male sitting between the thighs of his lover. A trail of scented flowers streamed from the man's mouth and caressed the prone female form that writhed and smiled.

Hermione moved back over next to Severus to view the book better. She could smell the scent of damask roses, orange blossoms, and mint wafting up from the pages each time the man in the illustration blew across his lover's skin.

“This is 'the lover's perfumed kiss,'” Severus said, reading the text under the illustration. He leaned sideways and brought his mouth to that spot behind her ear that made her whimper to his delight.

Distracted by his warm breath, Hermione missed the incantation spoken in Arabic. The flutter of flower petals brushing that sublimated upon contact with her skin was like no other sensation she had experienced, like a hundred butterflies brushing her with their wings. She reveled in the cloying scent enveloping her: jasmine, roses, and violets. When she opened her eyes, she was on her back looking up at Severus, who gazed intently at her.

Enthralled, she whispered, “Teach me more,” as she gazed up at him.

To say that time flew would state the obvious. With each new spell Severus taught her, Hermione tried it as well, each taking turns at sensual Charms the book described and illustrated. The young witch was reluctant to admit it, but the illustrations added to the sense of eroticism, as if she were a voyeur spying two lovers in the moment, then wishing to repeat the same act with her own lover.

As Severus was helping her with the Arabic pronunciation of a spell that was supposed to help increase the blood flow to a woman's pelvic region, Marf appeared by the side of the bed with a pillowcase over his head for the sake of Hermione's modesty.

“I is so sorry, Master, but you is having company over at four o'clock. Marf knows you and Missus wish to make yourselves presentable. I is so sorry to disturb, Marf will go and punish–“

“No!” Hermione interrupted with a start. “No, thank you, Marf. You don't need to punish yourself.” Though the small creature had something covering his eyes, Hermione still felt obligated to clutch the bedclothes to her person. She ignored the small growl in the back of Severus' throat indicating a little punishment may not have been out of line for disturbing their playtime. “That was kind of you to remind us that we need to get ready.”

There was the temptation for Hermione to nudge him not so gently in the ribs about his attitude towards the house-elf, but she guessed it would only dissolve into a heated argument about house-elf rights, or more sexual play which would leave them still naked and covered in dried sweat and bodily fluids by the time Malfoy and Ginny arrived.

To his dismay, Severus did note the time. Marf had given them just enough time to freshen up, but if dinner was going to last a couple hours, as it usually did, especially when Ginny joined them, then there would be little time left afterwards for him and Hermione to be alone before she needed to leave. He prayed his Sunday night client would owl him at the last minute and cancel.

Both had hoped their shower together could have been more leisurely, fulfilling all those fantasies they had had about each other over the weeks involving soap, water spray, and feet firmly planted against a cold tile wall with a back braced on the opposite wall and lots of friction, but alas, it would have to wait for another time.

Hermione had barely finished placing the drying charm on her hair and slipping her shoes on, and Severus just tucked his shirt into his trousers, when Draco gave his signature knock.

Surreal was an understatement as to how Hermione felt at that moment as Malfoy and Ginny strolled into Severus' flat, arm-in-arm like a young married couple, while their host greeted the pair. It was a snapshot of some alternative universe she could have lived in. Hermione could have never married Ron and eventually dated then married Severus, while Ginny and Draco were never parted and eventually married. It was even stranger to watch Ginny approach Severus, stand on her tip-toes and place a chaste welcoming kiss on his cheek, and Severus return the gesture with a fleeting kiss upon her cheek.

“Severus, it's so good to see you,” Ginny nearly exclaimed with a gleam in her eye and a rosy glow about her person.

“And you, Ginny. Draco,” the older wizard greeted the younger.

Draco was too busy staring at Hermione, and she stood there unable to move, pinned by his gaze. Ginny and Severus exchanged glances, Mrs. Potter the more nervous of the two, as they thought of what might erupt between old enemies.

Hermione had the good grace to give a perfunctory tight-lipped smile. This was Severus' flat and Draco was his friend; she would not do anything to embarrass or cause a scene, but if provoked, she would defend herself. “Malfoy,” the brunette witch said carefully, trying not to sound too frosty or saccharine.

Draco slid his hands into his trouser pockets and returned her smile with a cavalier smirk of his own. “Mrs. Weasley,” he drawled insolently.

Hermione could feel her back going up in response to his attitude. The prat purposefully stressed her married title, and said her last name in the same way that used to drive Ron up a wall.

Noticing the tension in the room went up an order of magnitude, Ginny suddenly piped up, “Severus! What's for dinner? It smells absolutely delicious.” Her overly bright tone was not missed by anyone.

Severus suspected that at some point Hermione and Draco would cross paths, but it seemed they could not put their differences aside any easier than he could with Sirius Black. He knew better than most how old grudges could not be put aside so easily.

Dinner was a pleasant, but slightly strained affair. Conversation flowed easily enough, but it seemed neither Hermione nor Draco addressed each other directly. Draco had the good grace to keep all sotto voce comments to himself, though Ginny knew him well enough to hear them in her own head. Hermione was only slightly worse as she ignored some of Draco's comments to Ginny or Severus, interjecting remarks that steamrolled over him, disregarding his input in the conversation. To be so easily dismissed irked him as easily as his arrogance vexed Hermione.

“What a simply marvelous dinner, Severus,” Ginny complimented her host. “As always.”

Severus bowed his head slightly in acceptance of her compliment.

Hermione was finally becoming used to the easy way in which Severus interacted with Ginny, though he did have a somewhat polite formality about him as he conversed with her.

“Ginny, would you be so kind as to come to the kitchen with me and help me pick out a wine to go with dessert?” the older wizard asked. There really was no need for Ginny to help Severus, as he had already picked out a lovely Sauterne to go with the apple tartin. In truth, he needed Hermione and Draco to speak freely and get their hostilities out into the open without the presence of Ginny stifling the inevitable heated exchange to come. Of course, he would still have Marf eavesdrop for him in case there were difficulties, and then he would have a witness to truthfully account the matter.

As Severus pulled out Ginny's chair and escorted her to the kitchen, the redhead cast a worried glance over her shoulder at her lover and best friend, glaring at each other across the table from one another.

Once the door swung shut Hermione was the first to bark, “Fine, Malfoy. Why don't you just say what you really want to say. Go on, Severus isn't here now, so you can spew your vile remarks and call me nasty names again. I know you've been dying to.” Her hand clutched tightly to her wand, expecting to deflect some curse, momentarily forgetting about the restriction of the Death Eater Decree and Draco's wand.

Draco's stare went from somewhat amused to deadly cold. All humor left his face and he bore a frighteningly close resemblance to his father. “For someone who purported the equality of Muggle-borns to those who are pure-blood, you can be quite the elitist snob yourself. Whatever happened to the merits of one's actions?”

“Actions? What actions? As far as I know, this is some elaborate hoax where your end goal is for Ginny to leave Harry, thus humiliating him by making his wife leave him for a Death Eater, oh, I'm sorry... EX-Death Eater,” Hermione yelled, throwing her napkin down on the table in disgust. “And I am not a snob, nor an elitist,” she added with conviction for good measure. It galled her that he called her a snob, just like Ron. She momentarily wondered if Ginny ever told him about that bit of name calling between her and her husband.

“And how do I know you are not engaging in some hoax. Potter did ask you to spy on Ginny. Maybe you're just going to gather enough damning evidence so that Potter will fly into such a rage, he'll kill me without a second thought, he would be exonerated of all abuses of his Auror powers; no one would bat an eye over the death of the last Malfoy.” Draco tried to appear calm, but the twitch in his jaw muscle was more telling of his building anger.

“And why would I do that? That would get Ginny into almost as much trouble as you would be in, if Harry knew.”

“Yes, but how much trouble would you be in if he knew you were shagging Severus? And by the way the chandelier in my flat rocked about today, I'd say it was rather rigorous shagging,” Draco drawled with that damn smirk fixed upon his lips again.

“Is that a threat?” she asked incredulously. “Are you going to try and blackmail me? Get Severus into trouble to settle your own score against me?”

“You think this is about you or Potter, but it's not!” Draco stood up and threw his own napkin down. “Dammit, but you're annoying! I don't know how Severus finds your company tolerable. He has more patience than I give him credit for, because I certainly would have risked the Death Eater Decree and hexed your mouth shut,” he grumbled to himself. Spinning around he glared at Hermione. “This is not about you! This is more than the animosity between us. You just don't understand the scope of things. Always rushing off trying to save the world when you have no idea what the fuck is going on around you.” After running a hand through his hair, the young wizard rubbed at a knot of tension building in his neck.

“Malfoy, always the drama queen,” Hermione drawled derisively, slightly shocked at the sound of her own tone. “If it's not a hippogriff who attacked you, who has wronged you this time? Hagrid's dead, so you can't blame him.”

The sudden memory of her old friend, and that she had so casually used him to lash out at her opponent across the room, brought on the pricking of tears behind her eyes.

Hermione's comment struck truer than she knew, and Draco slumped against the mantle, seeking strength from the wall to keep him upright. His head bent, he mumbled, “If I could cast one hex, one curse, one Unforgivable, I'd cast it upon Molly Weasley.”

“What?”

Lifting his head up, Hermione could see a seriousness in his eyes that could only be matched by the look on his face when Severus had first brought Malfoy to the Order, explaining he was ready to become a spy for their side.

“Molly Weasley. I hate that witch more than you ever could imagine. If it wasn't for her damn meddling, Ginny wouldn't be married to Potter,” he explained plainly.

“I'd think Moody or Fudge would be first on your list. And what has Molly ever done to you? I mean, I know how she pushed Ginny into dating Harry –“

Hermione was cut short when Draco grabbed a small piece of decorative crockery from the mantle and threw it against the wall with fury. She flinched at his sudden outburst, but before she could say anything, he began to tell his tale.

The now disheveled wizard turned once again to Hermione and yelled, “I was there! The morning the decree came out, I went to the Burrow to see Ginny. I came through the Floo and Molly told me in no uncertain terms that I should go. She said if I didn't leave soon, she'd Floo the Ministry and have the Aurors remove me. I wanted to see Ginny so badly, but she kept insisting I go. Finally when I threatened to stay put until Ginny came back, she promised to give Ginny my message. If my mind wasn't so... if it wasn't for that damned decree distracting me, I would have had the sense to make her take a wand oath on it. Instead, like a fool in love, I left.”

Hermione remembered how Ginny told her how she had thought Draco never tried to make contact with her after the decree, that he dropped off the face of the earth without word. There was nothing Hermione could say at the moment. If she had a daughter, she might feel compelled to lie to someone like Malfoy to keep him away from her as well. What mother would want their daughter involved with a convicted former Death Eater with no prospects and whose fortune had been taken away, without a Knut to his name?

To fill the oppressive silence, Hermione lifted her glass of wine and sipped at it daintily. Something was niggling in the back of her mind, but she discounted it. Instead, she continued to stare at the kitchen door while praying Severus and Ginny would return so she could go on disliking Malfoy, instead of dealing with this welling feeling of sympathy for the sod.

It perturbed her to no end she was actually feeling something along the lines of compassion towards him, and tried suppressing it by finally speaking up. “Maybe if you didn't become a Death Eater in the first place, then Molly might not have sent you away. You’d still have your money and no decree to worry about.”

There was something about Malfoy that just set Hermione off in such a way she would do things that seemed totally uncharacteristic of her, including saying obvious and incredibly insensitive remarks, in addition to smacking the bastard upside the head.

“Let me see you say no to a syphilitic lunatic father with a wand pressed against your temple, telling you to go through with some damn initiation binding you to a madman,” Draco snarled at her. “You deal with the threat of having your mind scrambled to the point where Goyle and Crabbe would have been my intellectual superiors, and see how well you can reason your way out of that scenario!”

Hermione had to admit she’d never asked Ginny if Draco ever wanted to become a Death Eater or if he regretted it only after becoming one, but from the blond wizard's tone and remarks, it seemed he’d never wanted to be one in the first place. It would certainly explain why, when Severus first brought Malfoy to the Order, explaining how he was willing to be a spy, the younger wizard had seemed to have aged by years overnight, and how he had a hollow look about his eyes until the end of the war.

It suddenly occurred to Hermione that she had never asked Severus why he became a Death Eater either, or why he turned spy, but wondered if she would be overstepping her bounds and straining their tenuous affair by asking.

To her relief, the moment was broken by Ginny bursting back through the kitchen door holding four glasses and the dessert wine. Severus trailed behind holding the apple tartin, which he could have easily had Marf serve, but didn't. Dinner dishes were cleared away with a sweep of the wand, sailing through the air and into the kitchen, making room for the final course.

Dessert was consumed at a civilized pace with relish. The Sauterne seemed to make Hermione feel a bit tipsy, and she was tempted to bait Malfoy, but didn't have enough energy to put up a good fight if it came to words. She knew in this slightly tired and intoxicated state, he could probably find far better words to parry than she. Besides, she didn't want to ruin her first dinner with her new social subset.

Odd, how Ginny and Severus were becoming part of this alternative life she was leading, she mused to herself. Mrs. Weasley really didn't want to involve Malfoy, but he was part and parcel of it. To help Severus and Ginny with acquiring the Polyjuice Potion ingredients was, by default, helping Malfoy.

As Ginny and Malfoy left Severus’ flat, Hermione knew her day with Severus was coming to an end soon. Mrs. Potter gave Severus a kiss upon his cheek, and Malfoy and Severus clapped each other on the back in a brotherly fashion. Hermione watched the exchange between comrades, trying to hold fast to her own preconceived notions of who and what Malfoy was. In her rapidly changing world, grasping onto the familiar was comforting. It was one of the few shreds of her original world left to hold onto, now that it seemed to be unraveling so fast.

Ginny glanced at Hermione and said softly, “Knock on Draco's door when you're ready to go.”

Hermione nodded briefly before Ginny and her lover slipped out the door. With the snick of the door's lock, Hermione and Severus were alone together once more. Sensing their time short, Hermione walked over to Severus wordlessly, stood up on her toes and kissed Severus with a desperate urgency.

His arms wound around her possessively in response to her kiss. Both knew what was to come. As their tongues stroked each other and their hands roamed, gorging on the sense of the other before the night ended, Hermione's heart ached more than ever. Now that she and Severus had cast aside all pretense and made love, she longed to stay with Severus in his flat more than ever.

To stop herself from crying, she let slip a self-deprecating laugh, muffled against Severus' neck. “We never got around to dancing the tango.”

Severus was thankful for the distraction, as he was torn between his desire to tell his Sunday night client to sod off when she showed up, and peevishness at himself for feeling so emotionally needy. He had let himself care for someone too much once before, and it had taken years for his heart to recover, though “recover” would be not be an accurate term when his heart had never healed properly in the first place.

His wand made quick work of the dinner table. It was cleared, followed by the chairs and table ambling off to the kitchen, meandering like livestock heading off to the trough.

The music began and they fell into step immediately. There was no holding back as they danced. Their eyes – fixed upon each other as they glided around the room – spoke pages of their passion for one another. Severus' fingers grazed along Hermione's lower back, pressing her closer to himself. Hermione felt his erection pressing against her hip, and she was tempted to give up on the dancing for one last love-making session before she had to go. They had agreed that Hermione could keep up on her pretense of Monday night dance lessons; and Hermione couldn't give a care if Ron protested one bit, especially since she discovered his own extracurricular activities. But having to be parted for twenty-four hours seemed rather unbearable for her at the moment.

After a couple more dances, Severus soon had Hermione pressed up against the wall, his hand skating up under the hem of her skirt. The knowledge they could not consummate their desires seemed to heighten the moment. Raising her leg, she wrapped it around his and slid it up the back of his thigh, encouraging him to settle between her legs. Severus began to grind himself into her through their clothes.

“One last time, Severus. Please,” she whispered with desperation.

Though he told himself he would much rather make her squirm with anticipation all day tomorrow, his own body craved one last release. His resolve dissolved instantly as Hermione latched onto the side of his neck and rotated her hips enticingly.

Breaking apart from her for a brief second, he yanked her knickers down hastily, stood up, undid his trousers, pulled himself free and lifted Hermione's leg back up. He adjusted his stance, positioning himself just so and making sure Hermione's back was properly braced against the wall before he slid into her quickly.

Hermione's head knocked lightly against the wall as she threw her head back, reveling in the sensation of being filled so quickly. Her first thought was of the one time she and Ron tried this in a broom closet once at Hogwarts, but that thought was quickly banished as this was so much more erotic and intense when it felt good, instead of uncomfortable and dank.

Severus grunted with each thrust and his lover thrilled in listening to him gradually lose control. When Severus came, it was either very quiet and controlled, or loud and furious. This time, he came with almost a pleading whimper, as if he was surrendering some part of himself as he came.

He wanted to hold out until Hermione came, but the knowledge that she would be going home with his essence still inside of her – with her husband none the wiser – excited him in a way that it never had before, even after working as a gigolo for years. Severus was marking his territory, claiming the prize of this witch from another wizard. It seemed irrational to him at the moment, but it still brought him to a quick orgasm.

As Severus withdrew from Hermione, he offered to bring her to climax manually, out of courtesy. Hermione kissed him with gratitude of his consideration of her pleasure, and told him he could pay her back Monday night – with interest, of course.

Once she was quickly reassembled, Hermione left, but not before one last urgent, yet hurried kiss before exiting Severus' flat.

He heard her knock on Draco's door, collecting Ginny before the two witches Floo'ed home.

Now that she was gone, he felt the emptiness of her presence. It more than unsettled him.

Severus questioned how he would function without Hermione once he was free and living far away from her.

'You could always take her with you,' the ghostly mirage of Albus piped up.

“Are you out of your imaginary and sugar-addled mind?” Severus retorted, swiveling on one heel to face his mental manifestation sitting on the settee.

'Severus is right this time,' the image of Minerva added, who had taken a seat in a wing back chair.

“See, even she agrees with me,” Severus gestured towards her with his hand.

'But what would she have if she stayed here that she could not have if she went with you?' Albus pondered aloud, stroking his ethereal beard. 'An inquisition from Moody, should he figure out it was she who gave you the Polyjuice Potion ingredients? A loveless marriage, that considering some of her recent reading material, is probably going to end in divorce, which in turn will turn her into a social pariah, coupled with Calpurnia Fudge's ongoing machinations to keep her 'in her place’.'

'Yes, but what of Hermione's Potions apprenticeship, which has been arranged,' Minvera countered, 'and then there is her salary working for Miss Brown. Plus she would never be able to see her parents again.'

'Muggles do have the ability to travel over land and sea, Minerva,' Albus reminded her.

Normally when Severus' memories of Albus and Minerva instantiated in their gossamer forms, they were always in agreement with one another, debating with Severus' conscience choices. This was a turn of events, with imaginary Albus and Minerva at odds with one another instead of mutual agreement.

Severus was ready to add his own observations, but the two subconscious apparitions continued on before Severus could butt in on his own mental debate.

'I am fully aware of all the technological marvels Muggles are capable of,' Minerva tartly replied, her Scottish brogue becoming thicker. 'However, having Mrs. Potter and two ex-Death Eaters suddenly leaving the United Kingdom under dubious circumstances – as the Ministry will phrase it – will no doubt be cause for the Ministry and Moody to go into a panic. But to have two ex-Death Eaters, Mrs. Potter and Mrs. Weasley, who is friend to both Harry Potter and Mr. Weasley, would no doubt result in an even bigger incident resulting in the Ministry taking even more drastic measures to bring Severus and Mr. Malfoy to so-called justice.'

'And all the more reason why Hermione should leave with Severus. Moody will put no one above his suspicions, even her,' insisted Albus. 'Besides, once Harry realized his wife has left him, he will try to follow her anyway. The danger during their escape will be no more or less perilous if Hermione were to join them.'

“At no point have I made any mention of Hermione fleeing with me,” Severus interrupted. “The plan is for Ginny, Draco, and I to leave. I am not complicating this by adding another body, which is yet another factor to result in possible failure, to the list of departing. End of discussion.”

The vision of Albus gave a sign of dissatisfied resignation, while the image of Minerva gave a short nod in agreement that it was the end of the matter and she was in the right.

Severus reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, but was stopped short by a knock at the door signaling that Mrs. Paxton had arrived.

A few quick, and allowable, spells were cast to set the room to rights and Summon a mask before letting his Sunday night client through the door.

Mrs. Paxton trounced in with a twinkle in her eye that signaled to Severus she was in no mood for talking, but for a good and thorough rogering.

Severus was relieved he at least remembered to cast the Arabic freshening charm on himself, as it would not be entirely good etiquette to have Hermione's bodily fluids still clinging to his own cock.

To not prolong his duty any further than necessary, Severus found a left-over bottle of forty-eight hour enhancement potion, which would give him just enough vigor to get a perfunctory shag out of the way.

'Ugh, this is getting to be tiresome,' Severus thought as he went through the motions. Mrs. Paxton remained oblivious to his boredom, bucking and rocking against him on all fours. He couldn’t help a mental sigh each time he slammed himself deeply into her.

The potion gave his body a believable performance of interest in Mrs. Paxton, but he had to catch himself from yawning once or twice since his mind was engaged in other matters, such as calculating the volume ratio of kettle to cauldron, and what the weather was like in the eastern portion of the United States right now.

============

A/N: Someone in a review brought up the issue about STD's, which I addressed by casually mentioning in Chapter 22, "Catch Me If I Fall" or "In Vino Veritas,": “...he had wine, a vial of the usual combination post-coitus contraceptive-venereal disease eradicating potion, and a deaf ear ready for her weekly rant.” But I felt this had to be more thoroughly explored in this chapter.
Kala ma'hab'bi irruh translated from Arabic is “Remove love essence.” Saha al kw'wai'yis nasa'mi: gemel sha'h'wa'ni sa'hir translates into "Awakening of the Perfumed Soul: The Sensual Sorcerer." Kindest thanks to Potion Mistress (AKA Jen) for her translation services. Some of you may recognize the original book that inspired the book for this chapter, “The Perfumed Garden for the Soul's Recreation”, translated by Sir Richard Burton.
Next I would like to give a huge round of applause to my betas, JuneW and Kealdry Lupin/Rogue_Panda, for editing and correcting this monster chapter. Also, thanks to JuneW for her title suggestion.
Yes, yes, I know. It's been nine plus years since I updated, but life happened. My mother-in-law died of cancer in 2006, I went back to work full time, I lost my job during the 2008 crash, was depressed that I was unemployed, did other things, and dealt with another death in the family, but still this story kept rattling around in my brain all these years, demanding to be expunged and committed to keyboard. I've had people at various Harry Potter cons over the years ask me if I ever intended to finish, and I said yes. And I meant it. So in January 2014 I started finishing chapter fifty-one, which I first started back in April 2006, and started writing, and writing, and writing.
And the one thing I swore was that I wouldn't post any more chapters until I finished the whole damn thing, including epilogue, so that way I would not have to write my way out of any more holes again. No more WIPs; too stressful. Well, the story is done and it will be posted in its entirety. Thanks to the many who have contacted me over the years hoping I'd finish it some day. Your periodic emails and reviews hoping I'd finish spurred me on to write this story to its completion. Thanks for being so patient.
You can watch for updates either through this fanfic archives' update page or these two social media sites:
Tumblr, which includes fan art links that you can view now since some links have died over the years, and will feature new fan art I've commissioned: http://atdlhea-betz.tumblr.com/
Twitter: @ATDLHEAbetz

Point of note: Regarding Twitter and Tumblr, I'll also include some posts for Leviosa, a Harry Potter conference (July 7-10, 2016) that I am helping organize as I'm the Hotel & Logistics Director and resident con Mixologist. Other than the occasional Leviosa post, those sites will be for ATDLHEA updates only.
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And They Didn\'t Live Happily Ever After