A Shrewd Man

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.

A/N - Just as a warning, there is a rape scene depicted in this chapter. If you are sensitive to that, don't proceed any further.

Kudos go to both Madbrilliant and Alliean for the beta of this fic.

The room was silent, save for the scrape of china against china, the clock on the wall in the corner, and the supping of liquid. Severus gazed at Hermione from his seat directly across from her, sipping from his teacup and waiting for her to speak. It would be easier to get her to say something first without pressuring her to answer something she may not want to. But he already knew what she was doing here. She was just giving up and letting Krum have his way.

'I asked for no one to seek me out, Professor,' she said softly in a trembling voice. 'You could be in a lot of trouble, and so could I.'

'Trouble with whom? The American Ministry? I do not think that is the case. I have various high connections with many wizards and witches that work there,' he said firmly, not breaking eye contact.

She dropped her gaze and stared at her hands in her lap with a crestfallen look. She wanted to tell him how unhappy she was, how he had saved her that night on the bridge from doing something to harm herself. But no matter how hard she tried, the words stuck tightly in her throat. She just sat there, trying to put her feelings into a sentence that would actually be worth uttering to him.

'It is the path I have chosen, sir. He is my husband; how could I betray him and do what I please?' she asked, tears forming in her cinnamon eyes.

'You cannot sit here and tell me that you are happy with the way your life is at present. I can see it in your eyes, Hermione,' he said softly.

She looked up when he said her name and saw the gentle concern that was etched in his features, softening them in a way that made him seem almost tender and attractive to her. She put her teacup down on the table that separated their two chairs and stood up, walking across and kneeling down before him. She placed her hand on his, looking at his face the entire time. She saw the nervousness in his eyes then and felt his hand push hers away gently.

'Can we just sit?' he said gruffly.

She nodded and took her hand away, although not without him brushing his thumb over her soft skin lightly. She smiled a little at that and simply kneeled on the ground in front of his seat.

'The weather here is just as bad as Scotland,' she commented idly. 'I wonder when it shall stop.'

'It is, but that is not my stamp. I am just here to see you really,' he answered with a shrug. 'Albus and Minerva miss you.'

'I miss them, Harry, Ron – I even miss poor Neville...' she said softly. 'It is sad that they cannot come here.'

'Tell me, Hermione. Where is your husband this weekend?' he asked carefully, trying to remain professional, but gentle at the same time so she would not be too scared.

'He is working – somewhere, but he never tells me where he is hunting,' she replied, holding back a sob. 'I never asked because it hardly seemed relevant.'

'Hermione... this must be very difficult for you,' he said softly.

'It is a very difficult time, but I have chosen this path for myself, not for anyone else,' she said just as softly, looking into his dark eyes and feeling the stirring in her stomach and the need to touch him. He had always been a bit of a hero to her and many others, and now, sitting with him there, her desperation to be touched tenderly made her reach out to him – seek his touch. She desperately needed a hero.

Hermione covered his hand with her own once more, but this time he did not seek to pull away. Emboldened, she moved up and closer, pressing her lips to his thin, but yielding ones. She pulled back after a little and saw no rejection in his gaze as he dropped his head halfway to meet her kiss the second time, opening his mouth to her and allowing her to take what she needed from him.

He kissed her slowly, pulling her up from her place at his feet and up onto his lap, letting her control the activity so she was comfortable. She needed this, and if he were honest, he needed it too. She tasted of cinnamon and coffee, a delicious mixture of sweet, bitter, and spicy. Her hands tangled in his dark, silky tresses, and his own found their way into her luscious curls, holding her to him and trying to show her how much he needed her to go back.

'This is so wrong,' she murmured in between their kisses.

'Very,' he agreed, fastening his mouth to hers again and plundering her mouth as if he really didn't care. She didn't stop him either.

'Victor is going to kill me for even agreeing to talk to you, let alone this,' she said as she pulled at his sweater to remove it.

He grasped the bottom of the sweater and pulled it off, tossing it to some corner of the room and continuing his assault on her neck and collarbone. She moaned in approval of his actions and rubbed at his taut chest muscles through the fabric of his shirt. He took the liberty of removing her jumper also, tossing it to where his was, now absolutely sure that she wanted this as much as he did.

Some two hours later, Hermione lay with her head on Severus' shoulder, her warm, unclothed body pressed against his equally nude form, with his strong arms around her and one hand stroking her hair lazily. They were tangled amongst the bed sheets, drowsy and sated for the first time in a long while for the both of them. Hermione's breathing indicated that she was awake, and Severus knew that he would not be able to sleep regardless of the circumstances.

'Let's leave this place,' he said seriously. 'I can't let you do this to yourself anymore.'

She sighed and pressed a kiss to his bared chest, hugging him tighter to her body and holding back her tears. 'You make it sound so simple, but do you have any idea how hard it is to divorce in the wizarding world? I know I don't love him, but I don't know how to get out of this. When I got married to Victor, my parents were so happy, but they just didn't realize that I did not love him. They pressured me into it, and now I am here, doing my duty,' she continued quietly. 'By being here with you, I have broken so many vows, and I should be ashamed, but I'm not. I must seem terribly foolish. Please, do me a favor and change the subject. I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm afraid it is all just a dream.'

Severus turned on his side and looked at her, gently tracing her face with his fingertips before following them with his lips, kissing her eyelids, nose, cheeks, and then her lips tenderly. He finished by kissing her forehead.

'When will your husband return?' he asked softly.

'Tonight, but I can never be sure with him,' she said, sitting up and letting the sheets slide from her form. 'I should go...'

'Don't leave, Hermione. Please don't go,' Severus found himself pleading softly. 'If he is not there, please, will you return to me in the morning?'

She nodded and Summoned her clothes to her, dressing in silence before running her fingers through sex-tangled hair. 'Severus... I want you to know that, if I do not return here, that I will always remember what you have done for me...' she said, holding back the tears that threatened to fall.

He nodded, not moving from the bed as she turned and walked from the room. He heard the door close and sighed heavily. Hermione left the inn and walked back to her house, fighting the tears until she was in the safety of her own room. It had been a long time since she and Victor had shared a bed, but now she was glad that they did not. All she would be able to think about now was how Severus had looked as he had made love to her – how his eyes shone and lips curved into a smile.

The moment the front door closed behind her, she ran up to her room threw herself down onto the bed and cried with every emotion she had coursing through her body. For her miserable life, for her friends and family, for Severus, and for every bad decision she had ever made. This was the hardest thing she had ever had to do.

After a while, she stopped crying and went to the bathroom, taking a long, hot shower, and then a cool one to soothe her body. She was a little sore, most likely from her encounter with Severus and their engagement in an activity that she had not participated in for quite a number of months by that point. Victor had a penchant for sleeping around – something that had carried over from his days as part of the Quidditch team. She would have to say that Severus's prowess was far superior to Victor's, and just generally any other man she had experienced.

When she got out of the shower and began dressing, she heard the front door open and close, and her heart filled with heaviness. Victor was back, and she would not be able to go to Severus the next day. To say goodbye to him, she would have to apply herself to being as discrete as possible.

'Wife!' the hoarse male voice called up the stairs.

She hurried and pulled on jeans and a sweater before rushing out of the room, charming her hair into a braid. She met Victor on the stairs. He was dirty, sweaty, and unhappy by the looks of things.

'Yes, Victor?' she asked as he looked her up and down. 'Where have you been?'

'What do you say that for? Hmmm? I ask you here and you ask me questions when I just come home from making a living,' he demanded gruffly. 'Do not question me, woman, or you shall know just what I do when I am angered.'

'Yes, Victor,' she said softly.

And with that, Victor closed in on her and savaged her mouth with his own, kissing her brutally and drawing blood when he bit into her lip. She held back a scream and forced herself not to cry or be sick because of his attack. He picked her up, and she simply slumped into his arms, knowing that to resist him would only hurt her worse. It wouldn't be the first time she felt as though he wanted to brutalize or kill her.

'What are you doing, Victor?' she asked weakly as he dropped her on his bedroom floor and began tearing her clothes from her person violently.

'You, my wife, are going to satisfy me now,' he growled, pulling off his own clothes before throwing her down onto the bed, mounting her, and thrusting in brutally.

Hermione lay pliant beneath him, knowing that if she resisted, he would not be happy, and was glad that he had not decided to make her use her mouth on him or anything else. He thrust dispassionately before he grunted and released, rolling off her and falling asleep instantly. Hermione got up after the ache between her thighs numbed and went back to her room, crying herself to sleep that night...