Chapter Four: Homework

Chapter Four: Homework

Hermione scowled as Snape stalked off down the halls several yards ahead of her once again. Surely, showing her his private rooms was not that great an imposition? She was going to be living there in less than two weeks. Perhaps she had gone a little too far, teasing him in front of the headmistress, but he had been such a prude she had not been able to resist.

Eventually, they arrived back at his office. He passed his hand over the wall behind his desk to reveal another door, which opened into a generously sized sitting room. Unsurprisingly, the room was dominated by many bookshelves with a comfortable sofa and two armchairs by the fireplace providing the necessary seating. Hermione stifled a giggle as she realised why he had been so put out when Minerva had ordered him to show her his rooms. The upholstery on the furniture was red. Pure, Gryffindor red. The rest of the room was decorated in soft greens with a little red also seen in the rugs.

"Go on. Say it. I know you are thinking it," he growled.

She couldn't help herself. "Red? The Slytherin Head of House has red furniture?" She collapsed onto the sofa unable to stop laughing.

"I'm pleased I have provided some amusement. I like red. The colour. I don't like Gryffindors. Especially those who roll all over my furniture with unseemly displays of mirth at my expense. And if this ever gets out..."

"Oh, I'm not breathing a word about this to anyone. Besides, I like red too, and if I told anyone you would no doubt change it – immediately after hexing me into tiny little pieces."

"You had better believe it, woman! Now, if you can contain yourself for long enough, I will show you the rest."

"Is there any more red? Because if there is, I might need a moment."

He turned on his heel and opened the nearest door. Within, she found his bedroom. Their bedroom soon. Swallowing hard at the reality she confronted, Hermione inspected the bed. Large, soft, and no red. Pity, it looked quite inviting otherwise. The thick, sage green quilt and matching bed curtains looked warm and cosy. A fire burned merrily in the grate, and woollen rugs covered the stone floor. Two wardrobes and more bookshelves graced the walls, full of enough books to make her inner bookworm drool. There was another door leading to a large bathroom, complete with bathtub, shower, toilet, and a hand basin. All in all, the facilities were more than adequate.

"These rooms are lovely, Severus." She turned and caught him watching her with a peculiar expression. Awareness. She flushed a little as she realised they were in the bedroom. The room where she and the man before her would consummate their marriage. Well, there and anywhere else that took their fancy, depending on how adventurous they became. Shaking her head to clear the sudden influx of curiously appealing images, Hermione returned to the sitting room and made herself comfortable on the sofa.

"Severus? Have I done the right thing?" she asked softly.

"You have done the Gryffindor thing, Miss Granger. Whether it is the right thing, I do not know." He sighed as he sat beside her. "Despite my resentment of the whole Marriage Law fiasco, I do appreciate your sacrifice. I realise marriage to someone like me was hardly something that was on your, no doubt well-organised, to-do list. I hope we can salvage some sort of life for you out of this whole mess. There are sure to be difficult times, and I expect there will be arguments, but know this – I will never harm you."

"I have always known you would never harm any of us physically. But what about emotionally?" she asked, compassionate brown eyes fixing on strained black.

"That, I cannot answer," he replied.

Together, they sat and watched the flames in the hearth dance lower, contemplating their shared future until it was time for him to escort her back to her room.

Late that night, Severus Snape found the oblivion of sleep had cruelly abandoned him. His mind refused to settle; the iniquitous situation in which he had found himself plaguing his conscience while at the same time arousing his long-buried libido. Who was this intriguing girl – no, woman – to whom he was now betrothed? No longer the irritating know-it-all with bushy hair and prominent teeth of her early school years, this young woman was attractive, intelligent, assertive, and had shown him the compassion he had been denied for years.

She was apparently no longer afraid of him and insisted on talking about sex as if it were no more significant than learning how to fly a broom. A student still, and yet she blithely brushed aside his protests at the impropriety of being intimate with him, a professor. Moreover, she did not seem physically repelled by him. How could that be?

After unexpectedly surviving the snakebite, he had reluctantly returned to Hogwarts for the comforting sameness of teaching Potions to the uninspired and ungrateful. It had required no planning, no vision for the future, no self-assessment. Finding some small pleasure in teaching now he did not have to constantly watch his back was a bonus he had barely admitted to himself, let alone to others. Just as life had appeared to be settling into a relatively peaceful existence, Miss Granger had turned it all upside-down.

Snape sighed, sure of one thing alone – Hermione Granger was no longer a mere student.

The next morning, Hermione awoke to a loud banging in her door. Ginny bounced in as she opened it, eager to find out what had occurred the night before.

"Well?" The redhead could barely contain her curiosity. "Yes or no?"

Hermione grinned despite herself. "Ginevra Weasley, meet the future Mrs Severus Snape!"

Both girls squealed and danced around the room. Hermione slumped onto the bed after a few minutes and asked her friend, "Why are we so excited?"

Ginny laughed. "I have no idea. It's still Snape, after all, but an engagement is an engagement. You shouldn't be cheated of your moment of excitement just because of the circumstances. I'm assuming the wedding will be fairly quiet."

Hermione took the opportunity to fill Ginny in on most of the previous evening's events, including their visit to the headmistress. If she was taking on Severus Snape as a husband, she was damned if she was going to do it without a confidante. She refrained from mentioning the red furnishings, however. She was not that foolish.

"You realise, Ginny, I will have to swear you to secrecy. Anything I tell you about Severus must not be repeated, even to Harry," she said earnestly.

"Severus?" Ginny squealed again. "I can't believe you just called him that."

"Well, like I said, he wasn't too happy about it at first, but he seems to be getting used to it. He still insists on calling me 'Miss Granger'." She sighed. "I just wish he would get rid of that enormous stick he has up his arse about sex. I can't seem to stop myself from teasing him about it."

"You go, girl. Don't let him throw his weight around. So, when are you going to tell the rest of the school?"

"Oh, not until after the wedding. I can just imagine the gossip now. I'd rather be married and have the wedding night over before anyone else knows."

"The wedding night. What are you going to do about that?" Ginny asked.

"What? His lack of experience?"

Ginny nodded.

"I think I know just what to do..."

The large, brown owl squawked indignantly as it dropped a brown paper parcel beside Hermione's breakfast plate two days later. Ginny grinned conspiratorially as she tucked the package, unopened, into her bag.

"Oi, Hermione! What's in the package then?" asked Ron.

"Just a book," she replied.

"Oh. Typical." He continued his breakfast and conversation with Lavender, no longer interested.

She noticed Snape's suspicious stare and smiled disarmingly in his direction. He would find out soon enough.

Potions that day was an interesting experience. Busily dicing flobberworms for the day's assignment, Hermione jumped and almost cut herself as a smooth voice murmured in her ear, "Make sure they are perfect cubes, Miss Granger."

Scowling, she leaned back and whispered. "I know how to handle soft, moist things, Severus. Do you?"

A soft snort confirmed she had scored. However, Harry's puzzled look pulled her up short. She shook her head slightly and replaced her triumphant smile with a look of exasperation. Her friend smiled sympathetically and carried on with his work.

Later that evening, she gathered up her new book, with several chapters carefully marked, and made her way down to Snape's dungeon office for their scheduled meeting. Using the password he had provided, she entered with a soft knock to advise him of her presence.

Intrigued, she looked around the empty office. It was unlike him to leave his office unattended, although she was a little early. She approached the door behind his desk which was slightly ajar and debated inviting herself in. The knowledge that she would be living there within weeks took her through the door, to find her fiancé just emerging from the bedroom, hair damp from the shower and clad only in a small towel slung low around his waist.

"Oh. The door was open. I just thought..." Her words failed as she took in the sight of Snape's near-naked body. Blushing, she turned away.

"Whatever is the matter, Miss Granger? I would have thought a woman of your much-vaunted experience would barely bat an eyelid at the sight of a man's body. Don't tell me you have suddenly turned shy," he sneered, the taunt belied by his equally red cheeks.

She turned and deliberately cast her appreciative gaze over his exposed skin. Lean, but well defined musculature; pale, smooth skin with a light scattering of black hair on his chest; an enticing line trailing down from his navel to disappear beneath the towel; strong thighs, and narrow, nicely shaped feet. As I expected, not too bad. "I was just a little surprised. I'm sure I will see it all, and more, soon enough."

"Well, I hope you can contain yourself until then, my dear bride-to-be, because I am going to get dressed. I presume you know how to order tea from the kitchens?"

She did not fail to notice the slight tremor of his hand as he returned to the bedroom. The Potions master was not as comfortable with his bare body as he had seemed. Smirking, she ordered the tea and made herself at home in one of the armchairs by the fire with one of his many books. Living here may have definite advantages.

Snape lifted an eyebrow when he returned, fully clad and composure regained, to find her ensconced in his chair. "Staking out your territory already, Miss Granger?" he asked as he poured the tea.

"It seemed... necessary," she replied.

"Indeed."

After a few minutes stilted small talk about mutual interests, of which there were surprisingly many, and a consensual rant about the idiocy of the Ministry, Snape finally asked, "The book. Why?"

She handed it over. "I presume I was correct about your... lack of experience?"

He nodded, cheeks stained red again as he read the title. The Joy of Sex. "What exactly is this for?" he growled.

"Homework. Yours," she announced.

"You assume too much, Miss Granger." He stood abruptly and stalked over to the drinks cabinet, pouring himself a good measure of Firewhisky.

"I assume you need education in this subject. You are to read the book, paying particular attention to the marked chapters. I expect three feet of parchment on foreplay and the female sexual response before the wedding." She lifted her chin as he stared at her incredulously. "And you will be graded."

"Are you serious, Miss Granger? You want me to research sex?" he expostulated as he returned to his seat.

"Why not? Sex is like any other skill. The basics can be learned in theory, and then you put them into practice. I fully intend to enjoy the fruits of your research." Her eyes lit up mischievously as she reached forward and ran a finger along his jaw. "And I also look forward to learning more with you."

Snape swallowed hard and leapt to his feet again. Hermione chuckled at his discomfiture. She had decided the key to success in her marriage was to keep her wizard off-balance. It was working admirably so far.

"Yes. Well, perhaps the idea is not lacking in merit. I may consider reading the book." He carefully placed it on a nearby table. "Is there anything else you wish to inflict upon me?" His icy tone advised her to phrase her next request with tact.

"Um. I wondered if... perhaps..." She faltered, unsure how he would react.

"What?" he asked impatiently.

"Could we? I mean, it would be nice if..." She stood and moved closer to him.

"Spit it out, woman."

She leaned forward and reached around to draw his head towards hers. A fleeting widening of his eyes was swiftly hidden by his lids as her lips met his in a brief, chaste kiss.

"What did you do that for?" he asked as he drew back, clearly shaken.

"I just wanted to see what it was like to kiss you," she answered. "Can we try again?"

Disbelief faded as he realised she really did want to kiss him again. Their lips met awkwardly at first, as if their mouths did not know what was expected. Relaxing into the feel of warm, soft, willing lips on his, Snape opened his mouth a little, allowing his fiancée's questing tongue entrance. The shocking intimacy of her actions unleashed a breathtakingly urgent response from his body. Pushing her away before she could once again feel the shameful evidence of his errant libido, he lowered his head to hide behind his hair.

"Why stop? It was just getting interesting," she complained.

"Too interesting," he muttered almost inaudibly. "I am not a new toy to be experimented with. It is time you returned to your room, Miss Granger."

"Chicken!"

Swinging her hips as she left the room, she turned and blew a kiss over her shoulder. Snape flicked his wand and looked innocent as she clapped her hand over a suddenly stinging backside. Sexually inexperienced perhaps, but he still knew a few tricks.

Prompt: 1. Something Old. The Marriage Law Challenge. Many thanks to karelia for the beta.