Epitome of Contradiction

Lazily lathering her hair, Hermione mentally reviewed her upcoming agenda for the day. While she was thrilled that her business was picking up, she was so overwhelmed with new clients that she wished her business was not so popular. She closed her eyes and continued lathering her hair in the slow, yet thorough, circle patterns taught to her by her mum. Most people loved to bathe, but Hermione loved to shower. Nothing made her feel better than a wonderfully hot and steamy shower. She loved how the fragrances enveloped her and the feel of the water caressing her skin as it cascaded down her body. Showering was always a special time when she could plan her day, think through any worries or concerns, plan out her career, think of her relationships, etc. Her business was one which she mostly planned during her showers, and with its increased popularity, the shower had proven itself a worthy place for planning. Apparently she'd found her niche, and with no other competition, she was looking forward to a prosperous career.

'So then, why the hell aren't I happy?' Hermione thought as she stepped under the shower spray to rinse her hair. She had everything she had desired and had been working toward for the last ten years. A prosperous business in the field she loved; a brilliant flat full of design possibilities; and a man who loved her. 'What more could a woman want?'

"Indeed, what more could a woman want?" she asked aloud. "I want..." Hermione said, answering her own question. "No, I desire a strong man to want me, desire me, need me, and lay claim to me. He must be possessive; he must be strong, protective... yes, he must long for me and crave me. He must be willing to learn my body, what turns me on and what turns me off. He needs to be a considerate lover, one who ensures that I am satisfied many times over. He must be gentle, yet strong and domineering."

At hearing herself say these things out loud, a deep chuckle escaped her and she leaned back against the shower wall, allowing the spray to hit her face and caress down her body. Hermione had had these thoughts before, but they had never been verbalized and had surely never left the recesses of her mind.

She knew she was being hypocritical with her nefarious thoughts betraying women's liberation. Yes, she could no longer deny it; she was the epitome of contradiction. A woman who demanded sexual freedom, yet wanted a man to claim her, take her, and dominate her in the bedroom. That's why she was always confused.

Sexual liberation, sexual freedom, sexual independence, whatever the hell you wanted to call it, she wanted it and even expected it. Was she part of the women's liberation movement? That was difficult to answer. She'd definitely benefited from the pioneers of this movement, and while she was not an active supporter, she expected the freedoms that came from said movement. How was it then that, as a woman who benefited from women's liberation, she could so wantonly desire the traditional machismo male with rote possessive instincts? She wanted her man to possess that exhilarating sense of power and strength. And while she desired those attributes in a man, she'd never had a relationship like that and thus had never been truly satisfied. She'd met nice and decent men, wonderful in all aspects, except in the one place she needed it most: the bedroom. For years she had searched for the one man to make her completely happy, but they'd all fallen short in one area or the other.

Was it possible to have everything? Her career was spent helping people obtain that which they desire, whether it was connected to sex or not. As was human nature, she found that sexual dysfunction or sexual dissatisfaction were not so much connected to the physical aspects of sex, but to emotional attachments, needs, wants, desires, love, and most importantly, it was all connected to the individual's perceived happiness. And she was not happy. Her current sexual partner was sweet, kind, and gentle. Harry could be nothing less... and nothing more. While he met a need to sate her, she was never fully satisfied. She continued to experience difficulty climaxing. She attempted to change her fate by being in control with Harry and guiding him to meet her needs. He was a good schoolboy and listened well to her instructions. But in the few days they had been together, she had only climaxed once, and she had been in fantasy mode, thinking of riding Severus instead of her best friend.

And she felt continuously horny. The most erotic experience of her life had been with Severus and Remus just days ago, when she'd felt sensual and desirable. Then Remus had spoiled the possibilities by being a good boy and backing out of what had promised to be an exciting evening indeed. She had never had a ménage à trois, but once in the moment, she was desperate to see it through.

Remus....

As Hermione continued with her cleansing routine, her thoughts turned to Remus and how worried she was for him and his unavoidable transformation later that evening.

He was such a complex man. Hermione could not quite fathom how he had loved her, for God knows how long now and never said anything, never approached her, never given her one inkling of attention. Granted, she had been gone from Britain for a long time, but if he'd really wanted her, he would have found a way, magical or not, to get to her. But no, he'd remained passive and done nothing to claim her even though he desired her. He had mentioned that his life was complicated due to his Lycanthropy and that he had wanted to protect her from that part of his life. Hermione thought that, in reality, he must be scared of commitment, or scared of rejection, or scared of whatever. His Lycanthropy had not been a concern for several years now, as he had a consistent Potions master brewing for him. His employment was steady, and since the downfall of Voldemort and the changes in the Ministry, he had earned the respect of those in power and the common folk. Of course, an Order of Merlin, Second Class, helped to shape their perception.

Regardless of his reasoning, Remus was a complicated man. He was both a gentle soul and wild, good and feral, gentle and brutish, calm and windswept. He was such a complicated man, a dichotomy of everything wonderful and everything untamed.

Thinking of this complex man, Hermione recognized that he very well may be the man to meet her desires. And while she typically saw him as sweet, gentle and kind, with his Lycanthropy he had to have a deep feral nature; at least, she hoped so. Hermione was excited at making a connection between her deep desire for someone to claim her and make her feel sensual and desirable with a man who had already expressed his love for her. Maybe, just maybe, he would be the one to meet all of her desires!

Yearning set residence, and with a practiced hand Hermione reached for her body oil, lubricated her hands, and began the gentle slope down her body toward her fluttering core. She found her goal and, recalling Remus' calm and protective nature during his exploration of her memories, and also remembering his untamed and passionate kiss just before he'd urged her to leave his chambers, Hermione slowly and ever so gently massaged herself. Her body reacted with a gentle gyration as if on an imaginary penis. Leaning against the shower stall, the water continuing to spray over her body, her hands were trapped at her core, unable to let go until she filled her desire. She curved her body to gain greater access, her right hand continued its manipulations while, with her left hand, she found her new target and began to explore the sensitive ring she knew would send her over the edge. One, two, three gentle probes later and her body began the welcoming quakes. As the tremors increased to a crescendo, guttural sounds of pleasure escaped her, and with her climax, she screamed, "Severus!"

~*~

With very little time between clients, Hermione's secretary, Wilma, brought her favorite lunch, moo shoo pork, from a nearby Chinese restaurant in Chinatown near Leicester Square in London. They sat together to eat, though Hermione was doing very little eating as she had been preoccupied all morning, and now was no different.

"Dr. Granger, are you okay?" Wilma asked, noticing Hermione's lack of interest in her favorite meal.

"Why do you ask, Wilma?" she responded without looking up, transfixed on her meal, seemingly willing herself to find interest in it.

"Sorry to intrude," Wilma apologized, "but you've just seemed a bit preoccupied this morning."

"Yes, well, it seems that you are getting to know me well. I seem preoccupied because I am," Hermione responded, offering no further explanations.

"Is there anything I can do to help, madam?"

"No, Wilma, and don't call me madam. You make me feel like an old witch."

"Sorry, Doctor. You know, you've barely touched your food," Wilma observed.

"Yes, I seem to have a crook in my neck and lower back pain, and I can't seem to concentrate on anything today, let alone food."

"Were you doing exercise or something? You must have really strained your body. I'm sure you could use some Bruise Healing paste and possibly an Invigoration Draught. I'll go to the apothecary and get you some."

Remembering her private shower acrobatics this morning, she responded, "Yes, I did strain it, and I appreciate your offer, that is very kind of you."

"Well, we can't have our clients complaining..."

"Complaining?" Hermione asked, cutting her off. "Who complained?"

"Doctor, it's no big deal, but when Mr Knoll left your office, before he entered the Floo, he said that you have his name wrong because you called him 'Severus' several times."

"I did what?" Hermione exclaimed.

"Yes, Doctor."

"Very interesting," Hermione responded, staring off into nothingness while trying to recall her session with Mr Knoll. "Thank you for his feedback. If you are done, I think I could use those items from the apothecary now."

"Right away," Wilma said as she stood up and began clearing the table of their lunch. "I can't leave before we each choose our fortune cookie," she said as she held three cookies in her hand and presented them for Hermione to choose.

Once Hermione chose her cookie, Wilma chose hers, and they opened their cookie and read their fortune. It had only been several weeks since Wilma and Hermione had begun working together, but they had developed a routine of checking their fortunes after each Chinese meal.

"What does yours say, Doctor?"

Hermione cracked open her cookie, placed a bit of the delicious confection in her mouth, and unrolled the little fortune. "It says, 'Engage in group activities that further transformation,' and my lucky numbers are '10, 28, 34, 49, 5, and 7'."

"That sounds like a great idea, Doctor."

As Wilma left the office, Hermione responded, "Yes, that's a great idea, indeed." As her thoughts wandered to her night with Remus and Severus, she hoped that another opportunity would present itself soon.

Hermione held onto the table as she lifted herself off of her seat at the dining room table and was reminded of her strenuous exercise earlier in the day. It seemed that if she was going to engage in any more individual acrobatics, she was going to have to get used to bathing instead of showers. After all, she wasn't a contortionist.

She returned to her handsome office; she briefly admired her chosen décor of mahogany woods paired with deep burgundy leather and golden yellow walls. She was a Gryffindor through and through. Her thoughts returned to her slip of the tongue with Mr Knoll. Apparently she had called him 'Severus' even though his first name was Grassé. And you can't get any more different than that. Hermione couldn't deny her subconscious anymore. That was her second Freudian slip of the day, and the day was only half gone. Freud was correct; the id could be stronger than the ego. And in her case, she guessed that her entire unconscious experience was all primitive id, full of irrationality, emotionality, and full of her wants.

"Look at me, I sound like my old professor." And that definitely was not self-complimentary. Hermione was frustrated with herself for being unable to control her basic emotions. "I need a fucking therapist. No," she clarified to herself, "what I need is a real fuck!"

~*~

Unable to concentrate on her work and desiring not to screw up yet another patient, Hermione completed her session with her 1:30 appointment, after having at least two blackout daydreaming sessions, for which she decided, in all good conscience, she would not charge him. She asked Wilma to cancel the remaining two clients before her muddled brain caused her to go out of business. She was mentally exhausted and found that she couldn't concentrate on anything. Well, that wasn't entirely true; despite all attempts to concentrate on her work, her mind kept wandering to Severus. He was a powerful and controlling wizard, and it was those qualities that pooled her panties. Yet, she was concerned that it was those same qualities that had caused him to Obliviate ten minutes of her memory. She wanted those memories back, and yet she was frightened that in finding out what had occurred during that time, she would hate him and no longer desire him. She was being stupid and irrational. Of course, she needed to find out what happened! Knowing was better than not knowing. Wasn't it?

Regardless, she was making up her mind and, despite her wavering, she was going to barge ahead and do what she could to find out. She extracted herself from behind her desk and approached her office Floo, which she had solely for her private use. Contacting Harry's flat, she was surprised when Ron answered.

"Whoa, hiya, Hermione! What a pleasant surprise. What can we do you for?"

"Interesting question, Ron," she responded with her mind deeply rooted in the gutter.

"Nothing interesting about it," he said with the not so unfamiliar confusion that took hold wherever Hermione was concerned.

"I'd like to pop over. I assume that Harry is there." Hermione presented it as a statement, though she was waiting for his reply.

"He sure is. Come through whenever you're ready," Ron said, and the last thing Hermione saw before the connection was temporarily disconnected was Ron stepping aside and then calling for Harry. She collected her cloak and purse, said good-bye to Wilma, and entered the Floo.

Hermione emerged into Harry's flat, gave Ron a big hug and set her handbag and cloak down on a nearby chair as Harry emerged from his bedroom. Her eyes traced over his perfect body as it glistened from his recent shower. A towel wrapped around his waist was the only thing separating Hermione from one of the reasons she'd come over this afternoon.

"Sorry, love, I was in the shower," Harry said as he gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Shower? Harry, did you just wake up?"

"Not so recently. More like ten-ish or so, though I was lounging around a bit," Harry responded, preparing himself for Hermione's usual diatribe.

"Harry, when are you going to get a job?"

"Oh, please, Hermione," Harry answered with his usual retort, "don't get stuck on that trip again. I'm stinking rich, Hermione; I don't need to work."

"Well, good for you, that makes one of us. Don't you want to give back to society, have a job that means something?"

"Bloody hell, Hermione," Ron interrupted, "would you continue to work if the Ministry handed millions of Galleons over to you for defeating Voldemort?"

"Harry's right. Don't get me started on that again," she responded, clearly frustrated and in the maternal role she usually felt was necessary with Ron. "First off, that money should never have been given to Harry. While he was prophesied to fight Voldemort, in the end he did not kill him. That honor falls to Severus. And secondly, Harry should be contributing to society, wizard or Muggle, I need not care which, as long as he is doing something productive and beneficial."

"Hermione," Harry responded, attempting to divert the conversation, "if I worked, then I wouldn't be at your beck and call."

"You're not at my beck and call, Harry." Hermione was disheartened that Harry would think that she expected to have him at her whim. Which she had to admit was true, but she hated that he realized it too.

"If I can admit it, then you should at least acknowledge how it benefits you.... Hermione, please," Harry continued seductively, trying to derail her thoughts. He took her hand in his and brought it up to his bare and still moist chest, over his heart. "Can't you feel my heart, love? It yearns for you, and there are other things that yearn for you." His plan was working. She bit her bottom lip and gave him a sheepish smile.

"What the bloody hell are you two doing?" Ron exclaimed, looking at his two best friends with bulging eyes expressing his shock and dismay and his bulging something else expressing his involuntary excitement.

"I'm just enjoying my friend, Ron," Harry said while never taking his eyes away from Hermione.

"Do you enjoy Ron the same way?" Hermione responded, feigning a sincere inquiry.

Ron looked from one friend to the other in complete bewilderment. "What the hell are you both carrying on about?"

"How can I, Hermione, when he has such a foul attitude?"

"Maybe you need to give him a kiss to shut him up," Hermione responded, continuing their playful performance.

"Interesting idea, but I think he would enjoy your kisses more than mine."

"He's had my kisses."

"And I bet he wants some more."

"If we're only speaking of kisses, Harry, I've got more important things to do."

"You know, guys," Ron interrupted, unable to understand why they were speaking of him instead of to him, "I'm right here."

"He's interested in anything and everything about you, love."

"Really, and how would you know what he's interested in... love?"

"I'm right here!" Ron exclaimed, trying to get through to his two friends. Though he was beginning to think they were not being so friendly toward him at all.

"He's my best friend," Harry replied, ignoring Ron once again. "I know him like I know you."

"You don't know me, Harry."

"I know you... I know that you want everything."

"Well, who wouldn't?"

"Just what is everything?" Ron asked, trying to interject himself into their not so private conversation.

"You tell him, Harry, since you seem to know me so well."

"You want your cake and to eat it too."

"Now that's a way to get around not answering the question." Hermione smirked. "So, go ahead then." She was getting tired, not only of this game with Harry but also because he could so blatantly assume that he knew her. How could he, when she didn't even know herself?

"Yeah, go ahead," Ron said in his attempt to gain an inside view into his complex friend.

"Hermione wants..." Harry paused for dramatic effect, "passionate sex."

"Wrong...." Hermione looked at her friend somberly, as there was some part of her that wanted him to be right. To be able to so completely know her that he would help her to shed some light on herself. "You're wrong, Harry. What I want is... powerful sex."

"What's the difference?" Harry responded, with what appeared to Hermione to be deep sincerity and interest in understanding her and her well-being.

"Yeah, what's the bloody difference?" Ron asked, which Hermione assumed was more out of his sheer lack of common sense and lack of sensitivity than interest.

"Passion, Ron, is equated to love and gentleness. I've had that and have that." Hermione quickly glanced at Harry, then turned back toward Ron to finish her explanation. "I love passionate sex, but sometimes a woman wants something different." Hermione removed herself from Harry's couch and paced his ample lounge. "I want powerful sex where I am lusted after, needed, desired, and..." She looked at her friends and decided that if she was exposing her secrets, she might as well say it all. Turning away, she finally said the words that simply described her sexual deviance. "I want a man to... claim me."

Harry just stared at her with his doe eyes, communicating his surprise as well as his working through this newfound knowledge. Ron didn't take any time to process and quipped, "Bloody hell, Hermione, you want to be a cave woman?"

"I can give you that," Harry softly responded, ignoring Ron's wisecrack.

"What did you say, Harry?" Ron was puzzled and Hermione realized how much she preferred his friendship from a distance.

"No, you can't." Hermione redirected her attention towards Harry.

"Yes, I can," Harry stressed a bit more emphatically.

"No, you can't," Hermione reiterated. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, but she didn't want for him to delude himself either.

"I can," Ron interrupted.

"No, you can't." Hermione turned toward Ron to make sure that he understood her emphasis on the 'you' was directed toward him, and in that understanding he could save himself any further delusions and, most importantly, keep himself from being a nuisance.

"Hermione," Harry proposed, "maybe we can... together. After all, two wizards are better than one, and more powerful."

Harry walked up to Hermione and gently grabbed her by the waist to turn her toward him. He laced his right hand through her hair and looked into her eyes to show his desire for her. With some unspoken language apparently known only to men, he motioned for Ron to join him in his attempts to claim Hermione. She closed her eyes, enjoying Harry's touch and the gentle sensations cascading down her body. At his tender probing, she opened her mouth to him, and that's when she felt it. A nibbling on her ear, which she surmised was Ron, as she was busy invading Harry's mouth.

Pulling away, she looked at both boys, and before she could utter a word, Harry said, "Don't turn away from us, baby. I need you; we need you. Can't you tell? I want to feel myself inside you..."

"Yeah," Ron added, "and... and I want to make you mine, yeah, eat you until you beg me to stop."

"Okay," Hermione chuckled as she extracted herself from both men, "I can't take this anymore."

"So, you think we're funny, do you?" Ron asked in all seriousness, making the situation even more amusing to Hermione.

"I'm sorry, boys," Hermione tried to respond through her laughter, "I just can't do this. You two are the wrong pair."

"Wrong pair?" Ron asked.

"This is just bloody perfect!" Hermione exclaimed. "Just when I need to confide in someone, my best friends are men, and this is too awkward to share!"

"Yes, we're men, thanks for noticing, but we're your friends, too. Please, Hermione, we really do care about you," Harry said, and Hermione loved how he always seemed so sincerely interested.

"Yeah, friends who want to get into my pants."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Harry playfully added.

"You guys need to tell me something?" Ron asked, feeling left out.

"No!" shouted Hermione and Harry simultaneously.

"You might as well tell me, you know. I'm bound to find out sooner or later. I'll wear you both down. I will, I swear it."

"Ron, you are so mature," Hermione said facetiously. "Seriously, boys, I am troubled."

"Dr. Potter here, at your service. Just park your pretty tush over on my couch, love, and let's have ourselves a bit of a talk." Harry held out his hand, and when she accepted it, he guided her toward his couch once again.

"You'd make a horrid therapist, Harry."

"But I make a good friend."

"That you do."

"Hermione," Harry asked, "is this about Snape?"

She laughed. "Yes, I guess it is."

~*~

Hermione let it all out. She explained, as best she could, her desires and the two candidates in her life she felt could meet her needs. She shared with them her evening with Severus and Remus; Remus' eventual confession to caring about her; the missing ten minutes while she was with Severus; and her evening plans to keep Remus safe. She was clear to leave them with her understanding that she had not been violated by anyone during the ten minutes missing from her life. She explained her confidence in her knowledge of her own body and of knowing if anything were amiss. She was pleased that they seemed to take her word for it.

"Hermione," Ron began after contemplating Hermione's predicament, "you shared that Snape was with Dumbledore all day, so why don't you ask him?"

"Ask who, Severus?"

"No, Dumbledore."

"Ron, you're brilliant!" Hermione yelled, throwing herself at him and giving him a bear hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Funny," Ron responded proudly, "my new girlfriend told me the same thing just last night."

"Why, Ron, you didn't share anything about a new girlfriend," Hermione said, rather pleased for him.

"Do I know her?" Harry asked.

"No, mate, I went out last night with Fred and George and that's when I met Frances. She's beautiful."

"And yet, despite this beautiful new girlfriend, you were going to have sex with me?"

"Hermione, how could I not help out a friend in need?"

"You are so philanthropic, Ron."

~*~

Hermione inspected the damage and was pleased with her handiwork. She had effectively disrupted life at Hogwarts. Not irreparably, but just enough so that only the transfiguration expertise of its Headmistress would be required to mend her disaster.

Using a Disillusionment Charm, and careful not to be seen by anyone lest they see through the charm, Hermione set about her planned distraction by Transfiguring as many Hogwarts paintings into baby bunnies as she could. This proved rather an easy distraction to perform as the incantation was something she'd learned in second year. With minimal effort, she soon had over two hundred bouncing baby bunnies making their way around the castle. Still under stealth, she walked toward the familiar gargoyle and waited for Minerva to depart. Even from her current distance, she recognized Filch's howl and the subsequent tirade that always followed it. Hermione was quite pleased with herself and this plan that she'd devised. Filch would be the one typically in charge of returning the school to normal, but as a Squib he could not do this task alone. Even if Minerva Transfigured all the little creatures, first she and Filch had to find them all, mobile little creatures as they are, Transfigure them, then return them to their mounting place. Satisfied with her results, she didn't have long to wait for Minerva to run out of her office, down the gargoyle and down the hallway toward Filch's howling. Although Hermione was pretty sure that Minerva's password remained the same as yesterday--after all, Minerva didn't share the paranoid traits of a certain dark haired wizard who she wanted to get to know in the biblical sense--she jumped onto the stairs before the stone creature moved into its typical guarding position.

Once inside, Hermione grabbed her prize, Disillusioned it as well, and ran toward Remus' chambers, as he had agreed to leave it unwarded for her to enter with ease. To her surprise, Remus was present and was looking toward the door that opened and shut seemingly of its own accord. "Hermione?" he asked, searching the empty space for her Disillusioned form. She responded by removing her Disillusionment Charm and handing him two very precious gifts.

"Bunnies?" he questioned. "How adorable!"

"Yes, just make sure you keep them secured until I am done speaking with Dumbledore and have returned him safely.

"Consider it done," Remus responded, though he was busy playing with his two cuddly friends.

~*~

"Oh, Hermione, how are you, dear?" Minerva greeted her as she was Levitating a painting back to its original position. Hermione noticed her usually professional hair bun was messy and off center, and she began to feel a bit of remorse. A 'bit' being the optimal word.

"I'm well, thank you," she responded, and feigning interest, she added, "What's happened here, Professor?"

"Oh, I would imagine that some first or second-years who have just learned a bit of Transfiguration decided to have some fun with us today."

"Do you require some assistance?" Hermione offered, though she was desperate for her offer to be declined.

"No, dear, but thank you. All of the little creatures have been found. Well, not quite all, I think we are still missing a handful, but a simple Levitation Charm will bring things back to normal soon enough."

"What were the paintings Transfigured into?" She was getting good at this acting thing.

"Rabbits. Well, bunnies, to be precise. But enough about my problems, dear. I know you are here to give Remus comfort and to assist Severus. You run along, and I'll meet with you three early this evening to discuss the arrangements."

"If I find any bunnies, I'll bring them over."

"Thank you, dear."

~*~

"Are you finally going to tell me what you and Albus talked about?" Remus asked her, searching her face for an inkling of their discussion. "You were with him for over an hour, and I've been waiting all this time."

"Yes, of course, Remus. I apologize. Why don't you run those two bunnies up to Minerva, and upon your return I'll share everything I have learned with you."

While Remus was gone, Hermione mentally reviewed all that Dumbledore had shared with her. She had placed him in a precarious position, first expecting him to divulge his private discussion with Severus, and then expecting him to keep her abduction and subsequent conversation with him private. If it weren't for the fact that they couldn't join hands, she would've made him swear to an Unbreakable Vow. Never in her wildest dreams would she ever have imagined having to ask a dead man to keep a secret.

Sitting on Remus' lounger, Hermione absently rubbed the soft leather upholstery as she processed her newfound information. Apparently she had confronted Severus, and in her drunken state had begun screaming at him. Albus was not clear as to how that transpired or as to what exactly she'd confronted him on, but Hermione assumed that it was not necessary to the entire story. What was important was that Severus had made to violate her. She never would have guessed it, but Remus had been right. Although, she was relieved to learn that he'd had enough willpower to stop himself. And, ashamed with himself, he could not bear her remembering his actions and had erased her memories. That was also a violation. The more she thought about it, the more she realized how horrible the whole scene must have been. She could only imagine, as she held no memory of it, how frightened she must have been. Dumbledore spoke of Severus' monster returning, and his eventual internal battle, which Dumbledore helped him overcome.

He also spoke to Hermione about instincts and fighting against the beast. As a therapist, she was intrigued with Severus' internal struggle and with the apt guidance Dumbledore provided to help Severus prevail over his past evils. Hermione noted to herself that Dumbledore did a fantastic job and could have easily been a therapist.

Hermione examined her wrists and ankles. Through time, as well as her use of the Bruise Healing paste that Wilma had bought her earlier that day, the bruises caused by the Binding Charm were gone. With no memories to recall and now no physical evidence of this violation attempt, Hermione felt as if she were in a dream. As if Dumbledore had been speaking of these events happening to another. This was just all very surreal, and despite her wanting to find something to fight against, she held no hatred or animosity toward Severus. Somehow, knowing how he'd tortured himself brought satisfaction, and retribution seemed excessive.

She recalled last night's conversation with Severus, when he blamed himself for not trying, and how he had spent the day not himself. She had noticed his sincerity, though she'd had no idea what struggles and demons he'd been dealing with. More importantly, Hermione recalled the evening in question. Upon returning to her flat she had been upset, thinking he'd been noble, but in reexamining his order to Remus, to take her home and make love to her, he had not given up on her as she had thought, but was protecting her.

To top it off, Remus had been right. This had been the first time Severus failed him. Month after month, year after year, Severus had volunteered to provide Remus with his Wolfsbane, for which he received no payment, nor glory, just the gratitude of a gentleman. It was clear that in fighting his demons, he had forgotten a crucial step in the Wolfsbane brewing process, and he'd never intentionally meant to hurt Remus. More importantly, thought Hermione, Severus was working towards making amends in the only way he knew how: brewing potions to help him.

It was strange, but in Hermione's point of view, Severus had morphed from a purely foul and uncaring, albeit sexy, creature to a human being; fallible, but with a determination to improve upon what history and experience had presented him with. And wasn't that our job, as individuals? To become more than our past and our collective experiences, to improve upon what nature and nurture have given us? This exploration and internal struggle struck a chord with her. Not solely for her professional and academic interests, but they also served as a reminder that she too was on a personal quest, struggling with her desires, wants, needs, and expectations. She was a contradiction, and that was her internal toil. He had his and she had hers.

As much as she felt she needed to be angry with him, she just didn't have the desire to fight someone with similar life struggles. And while she wouldn't fight him, she could not completely allow him off the hook. She realized that her plans to best him had not really changed all that much, but had taken on new meaning, and with renewed vigor she developed cursory plans for how she would deal with him.

To Be Continued...

A/N:

A HUGE thank you to Jackie for the beta and to Wartcap for the re-beta and her constant encouragement!

Muchas gracias (many thanks) go to my dear friend, SiriusWoman, for helping me to process the plot and the once over.

Fortune Cookie: That was really my fortune for a cookie I was eating at the time I was writing!

Anyone notice anything interesting about Mr Grassé Knolls name? Hint, his name sounds like two words said over and over again regarding an ex-President. And, if you guess right, let me answer your unasked question – "I am NOT that old and I was NOT born yet!"

Please don't fret! I promise you that we'll see much more of Severus in the next chapter!

Finally, mucho amor (much love) to all of YOU! Whether you review or not, I see the hits this story is receiving, and it tickles my toes to know so many of you are following this fic! Please leave me a review... That's it, go ahead, the submit button's just a little lower!

~Ruthie