Frustrations

AN: As always, big thanks to everyone who was kind enough to leave me a review. I read and enjoy every single one. Though I simply cannot comment on them, I am really enjoying hearing everyone's theories about what's going on.

Big thanks to alert reader, Hogwarts Honey, for catching a too/to error in the last chapter. And a shout out to Peruna88, who found one of those words that only sounded vaguely like the one I meant. Lol! I suppose I shall always need my alert readers, and I have to say that I'm not at all disappointed. You all rock!

Last but very much not least, gimormous thanks to my betas, Vaughn and WolfMoonshadow. I could write without you guys, but no one would want to read it! You rock!

Disclaimer: They are not mine; I only take them out to play.

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Madness is tonic and invigorating. It makes the sane more sane. The only ones who are unable to profit by it are the insane.

-Henry Miller 1891-1980

When Hermione had set up the small potions lab in the basement of Harry's house, she hadn't expected that anyone would ever work there but her. The worktable was rather cozy for two people, but not annoyingly so. Once Severus started her working on several simple tasks, Hermione worked happily alongside him for some time before she realized anything was amiss. Though she had only seen him working during a handful of class demonstrations, Hermione could tell that his behavior was much altered.

The speed at which he worked was the first clue Hermione had that his mental state was affecting his work. In class, he had always worked steadily, with deft and quick movements. Now, his hands were equally dexterous, but his speed varied wildly. Before he began a task, he would place the plant in front of him and stare at it for several minutes. Then he would begin preparing it. Between steps in preparation, he would often stop working completely and walk away from the table. Once, he had even gone and stood in the corner of the room with his head resting against the walls.

Now it was happening again. Having carefully removed the leaves from several stalks of Gnaphalium uliginosum, Severus sat staring at the two piles, one of the leaves and one of the stems. Knowing what the matter was, Hermione though that she could help.

"Severus," she said, "you want the..."

"Don't you dare to try to tell me my business, you stupid little whore!" he shouted viciously. "I was making potions when you were still puling about in your nappies...I won't have the likes of you disturbing my work."

For a moment, he stared again at the two piles of vegetation before him. Then, he quickly discarded the thin green leaves and set the stems carefully into a bottle of distilled vinegar. Trying her best to stifle a small sigh of relief, Hermione bent her head to her own task. It might be painful to watch the once confident man hesitate so, but he obviously still knew his work. It simply took him longer to do it. Harder to ignore were the disdainful remarks that Severus now began muttering to whatever plant he happened to be working with. He had quite a long chat with a small sprig of Rue.

"I don't know what the world is coming to," he muttered to the Rue. "Nowadays, the young whores all think that they know better than their elders. Foolish and impatient brats, if you ask me. I never could stand the lot of them, could you?" With that, Severus gave the sprig a small shake and the Rue seemed to bob in agreement.

Biting back another sigh, Hermione refused to let his bitter remarks get to her. Doubling her efforts, she worked at even greater speed. If Severus was beginning to talk to the plants, then he was tired indeed. The sooner they were finished, the sooner she could tuck him into bed.

Eventually, Hermione reached one plant in her pile that she had no idea what to do with. Though she was reluctant to speak to him again, she was not about to take chances with anything that Severus might use to brew some mysterious potion. Gathering the courage to face his acid tongue, Hermione turned towards him and patiently waited until he finished the piece of Blessed Thistle he was working on.

"Severus," she said softly, "I don't know what to do with this Adder's Tongue. I've never worked with it before."

Strangely, Hermione's interruption did not anger the touchy man. While Severus clearly did not want his own work questioned, he did not mind Hermione asking him questions about her own.

"I'm not surprised that you haven't worked with it before, little whore. It's native to the Americas. It's difficult to get fresh here, as it has to be kept in a greenhouse. That makes me wonder who the red-headed whore's friend is, who was able to procure some so easily."

"What should I do with it?" Hermione asked quickly to distract him from that line of thought.

"Keep the single leaf from each plant," Severus explained patiently. "Discard the rest. Grind the leaves in a mortar with a little of that clear alcohol and seal it in a phial."

For the next thirty minutes, Hermione and Severus worked together in companionable silence. When Severus didn't bother to argue about Hermione casting all the Stasis Charms that were necessary, she knew that he was tired indeed. Taking him by the hand, Hermione led Severus from the lab and up to his room. Once there, she tucked him fondly into bed and told him to go to sleep. He was still fully clothed, and Hermione shook her head at the sight of him, fully dressed, lying on his bed and gazing at her with sleepy eyes. Though she had tried every justification that she could think of, Severus still petulantly refused to wear any of the night clothes that Harry had purchased for him. Hermione knew that it didn't hurt him to sleep in his trousers and shirt; she only wished that the poor man felt safe enough in the house to relax a little more.

Leaning over him, Hermione gave him a customary kiss on the forehead while she whispered, "Sleep well, Severus." When she leaned back, she was startled by the sheer ferocity of the scowl that Severus was giving her. "Severus, what's the matter?"

"Nothing at all," he growled. "Everything's fucking roses around here, yeah? One minute, there are all these confessions of love, and the next, some little whore is kissing you on the forehead like you're some dunderheaded child. Next thing I know, you'll be patting me on the head and telling me that I'm a good doggy. Scratching me behind the ears and wondering why I don't thump my fucking leg."

She couldn't help but giggle at that image, which made Severus scowl even more. "I'm sorry, love," she said, still grinning. "I assure you that I do not think you the least doglike, nor do I think you are a child. I take it that you would like a more proper good night kiss?"

In answer, Severus snaked a hand around Hermione's shoulder and gave a sharp tug. Not expecting such a move, Hermione fell into the bed and ended up lying half across Severus' chest. While Hermione lay, gaping in surprise, Severus' hand moved to the nape of her neck and wound into her hair. He pulled her down further, until his cheek rubbed against hers and his breath ghosted hot and moist across her ear.

"I promised, pretty little whore," he murmured into her ear, "that I would not push your stubborn sensibilities too far. But if you think that a quick buss on the forehead is enough to sustain me, you are sadly mistaken."

His voice was low and warm, sending sudden shivers down Hermione's spine. She'd heard of such effects, but thought them an exaggeration of ridiculous romance novels. Not so. Severus' voice wound down her back and continued all the way down to her toes, which curled in sudden reaction. She could feel the taut muscles of Severus' chest pressed against her breasts. Without even being aware of it, her lips parted of their own accord, her heartbeat quickened, and her breath began to come in short pants.

The hand in her hair pulled back ever so slightly, while the warm mouth at her ear made a slow journey across her cheek and to her open mouth. With a growl, Severus latched onto that mouth and plunged his tongue between Hermione's eager lips. With a soft cry, Hermione wound both of her hands into Severus' hair and returned his kiss with unpracticed enthusiasm. Never had she been kissed so. Later, in the cold privacy of her own room, she would reflect on this kiss over and over, eventually deciding that those dreadful romance novels might not be all wrong.

Severus' tongue retreated to his own mouth and Hermione's bravely followed it. When Hermione had been younger, the thought of such kissing had seemed rather distasteful. Now, she threw her whole being into the kiss, delighting in the tingly feeling that she got when their tongues twined and slid against each other. Never had she felt so on fire, so alive, as she did in that moment.

All too soon, it ended. Breaking the kiss, Severus pushed Hermione gently away from him. "Go, little whore," he whispered. "Go now, before I forget my promises."

Startled by how easily she might have forgotten her own vow, Hermione climbed awkwardly from the bed. After a long look at the heated gaze that Severus was giving her, she turned from the bed and walked slowly away. A soft goodnight from the doorway, and she was gone.

Alone in her own bed, Hermione relived that kiss again and again. Frustrated, Hermione tried to find some peace by using her own fingers on herself. Eventually, she gave up, even more frustrated than before. Hermione had never quite got the hang of it, to be honest. From what she had overheard the other girls giggling about, boys had it easy. Grab and stroke, and Bob's your uncle. Girls, unfortunately, seemed far more complicated than that. Living in a dorm with other girls was not an easy environment to practice in, and neither was living in a house where your two male roommates tended to barge in without knocking. Now, Hermione would have given just about anything for a little release, and had very little idea of how to go about it.

Giving up in disgust at her own ineptitude, Hermione burrowed into the covers and tried to relax. It was a long time indeed before sleep claimed her.

Waking the next morning groggy and out of sorts, Hermione stood for a long time in the shower, hoping that the water would help wake her up. When this proved not particularly effective, she dried off, got dressed, and headed for the library in search of tea. She arrived to find Severus there before her and a welcome tray of tea and toast on the coffee table.

Gladly pouring a cup of the strong Darjeeling that Severus always demanded Kreacher serve, Hermione added a splash of milk and sat down on the sofa to enjoy it. Severus was working at his desk, as was his usual habit in the mornings, but there was no sign of Harry or Ron. The first cup of tea did much to revive Hermione's spirits. As she poured a second cup, she at last felt human enough to speak.

"Morning, Severus," she said somewhat cheerfully. "Where are the boys this morning?"

"Already gone. Not all whores are slug-a-beds," he said snidely. "You are usually up far earlier than this. Tell me little whore, did something disturb your rest last night?"

The protest that Hermione had been considering died on her lips as she noticed Severus' expression. The smug bastard! Hermione spent so much time worrying over Severus that she sometimes forgot that he was still a Slytherin. He obviously knew exactly what effect he'd had on her senses the night before, and now he was obnoxiously pleased with himself. Well, two could play that game.

Walking over to where Severus sat at his desk, Hermione placed her hands on the back of his chair and leaned forward until her face was very close to his. With her lips only a centimeter from his, she spoke. "Well, since everyone is gone..." Nonchalantly, Hermione turned away from Severus and walked back over to the sofa to retrieve her tea. "Since everyone is gone, there's something I wanted to ask you about."

For a moment, Severus sat in his chair gaping at her in shock. It was painfully obvious that he couldn't believe that Hermione had done such a thing. Standing quickly, he strode to the sofa and glowered down at her. After several sputtering tries, he at last found his voice.

"You...you naughty little whore! I would have thought that you were above such teasing tricks, but I see now that I was wrong. I would not play such games, little whore, were I you. You will find out that you are no match for me."

Smiling sweetly up at him, Hermione calmly said, "Now Severus, I have no idea what you are so upset about. There's something very important that I want to ask you, and I only wanted to make certain that I had your attention."

"I assure you, little whore, that you have it," Severus said through gritted teeth.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually," Hermione began in the same calm tones. "It's about this whore business. Now, I don't care what you call Harry, or Ron, or anyone else for that matter, but it's rather off putting to have the man I love calling me a whore all the time." Standing, Hermione went to Severus and put a hand gently on his cheek. "You know my name, Severus. I know that you do. Couldn't you try to call me by my name?"

Backing away from her, Severus looked at her with wild eyes for a moment before retreating to a corner of the room and standing with his head tightly wedged against the walls. Following him, Hermione saw that he was shaking. Though it was important to Hermione that Severus stop calling her a whore, it was clear that she had asked too much. There was some twist of Severus' mind that caused him to shy away from all names, and it was obviously too strong for Severus to easily overcome.

Standing close to him, Hermione ran a hand up and down his back to comfort him. "I'm sorry, Severus. I didn't mean to upset you. You can't say my name, can you? And here I am, trying to force you to do so."

"I...I cannot..."

"I know, love. I know. Don't fret about it. Come sit on the sofa with me. Come on, love. Come sit down with me."

Coaxing him slowly over to the sofa, Hermione sat next to him and leaned against his side. Seemingly of its own accord, Severus' arm wrapped around her shoulders, and Hermione leaned her head down to rest against his shoulder. For the next twenty minutes, they sat there in silence while Severus calmed down. Eventually, he became somewhat agitated again, and Hermione lifted her head to look at him with concern.

"I..." Severus began hesitantly, "I don't want to do something that upsets you. I don't want to make you unhappy."

"I know that, Severus," Hermione said earnestly. She wished now that she had never brought the subject up. It had seemed like such an insignificant thing, but with Severus' mental state, even the most trivial matters could cause him trouble. She should have known better. "I'm not unhappy, I'm not!"

Despite her protest, Hermione was shocked to feel her eyes watering. It wasn't the whore business; it was more a reaction to the frustration of trying to deal with Severus. It was hard to be in love, and yet feel that she had to walk on eggshells around him. Noticing her moist eyes, Severus pulled her close and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. Remembering his reaction of the night before, Hermione saw an opening to lighten the mood and she jumped at it.

"That's not a proper kiss," she said, with a mock scowl.

With a sudden laugh, Severus placed a hand to either side of her face and kissed her with enthusiasm. When he eventually drew back, he gazed deeply into her eyes.

"I cannot do as you ask, but I would not have you unhappy. What can I do, little...what can I do?"

It was obvious that he wasn't going to forget the matter. As Hermione searched her mind for some solution, she remembered Draco.

"Severus, you don't have to say my name to make me happy. Perhaps you could call me something else. You call Draco "boy," don't you? I wouldn't mind it so much, if you called me something that was just for me."

Releasing Hermione, Severus rose to his feet and began to pace the room. Worried at first, Hermione soon saw that he did not seem agitated, he was only thinking. Sitting up straighter, Hermione waited impatiently, wondering what Severus would chose to call her.

After a bit of pacing, Severus turned towards where Hermione still sat on the sofa. "Slut?" he asked pleasantly.

Hermione's face fell. She should have known better than to expect too much of him; he was mad, after all. Besides, it could have been worse. He might have started calling her snookie-wookums or some such nonsense. "Actually, Severus, I think that I almost prefer whore to that."

Huffing in annoyance, Severus began pacing again. It wasn't long until he came up with his next suggestion. "Cunt?" he asked hopefully.

"Absolutely not!"

A bit more huffing and pacing later, Severus had a third suggestion to make. "Trollop?" he asked hesitantly.

Hermione opened her mouth to automatically protest, but then she shut it with a snap. Actually, trollop wasn't so bad. It still basically meant whore, but it was so old fashioned that it sounded almost endearing. Besides, considering his other suggestions, this was obviously the best of the lot. If she let him go on, it might get much worse.

"I think that trollop is fine, Severus. Could you call me that?"

In answer, Severus returned to the couch and pulled Hermione to her feet. "Pretty little trollop," he murmured before leaning down to give her another kiss. Releasing her, he walked towards the door. "There are some things I must see to in the lab, trollop. Do tell me when the whore's son returns with my ingredients."

"I will, Severus."

Watching him leave the room, Hermione was surprised to see him pause when he neared the suit of armor. Placing a hand on its metal shoulder, Severus leaned close to the suit's helmet, looking for all the world like he was going to tell it a secret.

"Hermione," Severus whispered to the armor. "Hermione." Then, Severus gave the suit of armor a fond pat on the head before quitting the room.

"Well, that answers one question," Hermione muttered to herself. "He certainly does remember my name. Why he can't call me by it, I'll never understand. Perhaps I should stop trying to find reason in madness."

Returning to her rather cold tea, Hermione sat, lost in thought, until Harry arrived home.