Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Severus Snape slips out the door into the night, thankful to escape the racket of the Halloween Feast in the Great Hall. The students are hyped to the eyeballs on excitement and sugar, and he is pleased to leave them in the care of his colleagues.

Every man needs some time alone...and time when he's not alone.

He is forty years old, more than two years past the war that should have killed him, and though he has resumed his career, he feels adrift in this brand new world...the one where Severus Snape is honoured, admired...even sought after.

When a man lives through the death he sought...courted...and pays the debts he took on so carelessly in his youth, what is he to do with himself? How is he to navigate the society he has shunned...and been shunned by...all his adult life?

He has accepted his clean slate...has finally come to believe in this new start...but he still has no earthly idea what use it is to him.

He's in his prime with no clue how to make the most of it.

Lucius Malfoy, ever his tutor in how to get on in life, seems nearly as lost as Severus. He and Narcissa opened their home to the Auror investigation of the Death Eaters after the war. They testified under seal and in open court to their knowledge of the activities of Tom Riddle and his minions. They did so with dignity...and they continued to serve their punishment of five years' house arrest at the Manor. But with the help of the one house-elf remaining to the Malfoy family, Lucius makes occasional furtive forays to Knockturn Alley. On one such occasion, he introduced Severus to the benefits of . . . social interaction at TPE.

Halloween in the year 2000...what could be a more auspicious time for a man to whom the world is now an oyster ripe for consumption? And Severus Snape is not the only wizard setting out to enjoy his clean slate this damp autumn night...he is, in fact, en route to Harry's Place, where The Boy Who Lived and the one who loves him are welcoming patrons for their inaugural night as restaurateurs.

---

Hermione takes the glass of champagne from the tray of a passing server and looks around the restaurant. She can see the influence of Draco in the edgy elegance of the retro dark woods and rich fabrics of the cosy nooks...but she can also see that of Harry in the central open area filled with squashy sofas and armchairs, the scattered tables and buffet-style serving of the food. They've captured the Slytherin private alcove elegance and the Gryffindor common room comfort in one go.

Not bad for business partners who, two years earlier, were at one another's throats at every public encounter. The behaviour only fuelled the fire of the passion that consumed them in private life, far from the prying eyes...and the knowledge...of their friends. But now Harry and Draco are hiding nothing...their sexual orientation, their relationship, or their business aspirations.

Ron, Parvati, Ginny, and Neville are at the centre of a group of Dumbledore's Army who stand before the magnificent oaken bar. Hermione makes the rounds of her friends, kissing cheeks, exchanging news, establishing her presence at the opening. She cannot miss this new beginning for Harry and Draco...but she is determined to have her new beginning as well, which awaits her at TPE at eight o'clock.

There's no reason why she can't be at both places in one evening, even if it means cutting her time at Harry's Place a bit shorter than Harry might like.

---

This time, when Hermione enters the portals of TPE, she is in a well-lit reception room with two people manning the desk. The first is a stunningly exotic woman with white-blondee hair and curiously yellow-green eyes. The second woman is rather plain in comparison to her companion, but she seems unaware of the glaring difference. She has a round face and smiles when she sees Hermione, friendly and cheerful. Her wide-set blue eyes seem to dance.

"I'm so glad you decided to use the card!" she says, extending her hand. "If you don't mind giving it back...we don't want too many of these floating around town."

Hermione willingly surrenders the card. "Were you the old woman who gave it to me?"

"Yes!" She laughs and darts a mischievous look to her silent, watchful companion. "I'm KiKi, and this is Ramona."

Hermione finds KiKi's good nature hard to resist. She smiles in return, though Ramona responds with no more than a long blink of her feline eyes.

KiKi nods to the open doorway leading into the interior of the house. "The parlour is the first room on the left...we have the newcomers' meeting in there. Please make yourself comfortable and we'll begin the meeting at eight."

Hermione enters a long corridor that extends to the back of the building, dwindling to full darkness in the distance. That part of the hallway she can see is lined at intervals on either side by closed doors. Curious, she turns into the small parlour. It is tastefully appointed with a thick rug and elegantly upholstered antique chairs, sofas, and tables. The palette is garnet red, cobalt blue, and old gold.

She is the third inhabitant of the room. The others are both women. She estimates their ages at closer to thirty than her twenty-one. Sensing their nervousness, Hermione speaks.

"Hello. A bit damp out tonight, isn't it?"

They murmur agreement.

Hermione is scarcely settled before KiKi bustles into the room. "Welcome, ladies!" she says, her bright smile making the words meaningful. "Newcomers to TPE always adopt a nickname at first, so I'll encourage you to be thinking of what you'd like to be called."

"Why nicknames?" Hermione asks.

"Some of our regular visitors prefer to remain anonymous," KiKi says. "This is your first visit, and there's no charge for your first time. Each time after the first, if you decide you like us and want to return, there will be a fee charged, based on the service you choose and the amount of time you wish to spend." She hands out sheets of closely written parchment.

Hermione barely glances at it. She is too impatient to know more.

"TPE has been in this location since the end of the eighteenth century," KiKi continues. "It wasn't called TPE then, though...it was called the Wizard's Hellfire Club. The Muggles had a club by that name, but they spent much of their time mocking religious practice. The wizard version was more a place for the practice of sadomasochism."

Hermione blinks and feels a touch of panic. What has she walked into?

"Don't worry!" KiKi says. "TPE has had many incarnations in its time, but the most recent began a few years after the fall of Grindelwald. In fact, this year, we celebrate our fiftieth anniversary." KiKi pauses to smile around at everyone again, but she can see that her auditors are in a state of alarm. "Well, that's enough of our history."

She takes a straight back chair and moves it so that she and the three newcomers sit in a rough circle. Hermione tries, but she finds that she cannot be quiet.

"But what does TPE mean?"

KiKi answers, addressing her answer to all the women. "TPE stand for total power exchange."

Hermione feels as if she's going to jump out of her skin. "But what does it mean?"

Now KiKi turns to face Hermione, her tone soothing even as her words incite the clamouring in Hermione's midsection.

"It's a part of BDSM...that's Bondage and Discipline (BD), Dominance and Submission (DS), Sadism and Masochism (SM). Dominance and submission is the relationship between a dominant and a submissive. Many say TPE is the pinnacle of Dominance and submission. TPE refers to a relationship or activity in which the submissive gives the dominant partner power and authority over the submissive's body, in exchange for the submissive's happiness and fulfilment. It can be for any duration, ranging from a single encounter to a proscribed period of hours, days, or weeks. Some people even agree to living TPE 24/7."

"Oh, thank you!"

Hermione turns her head to see one of the newcomer women with her hand over her mouth. She is crying, tears running down her face, but it is obvious that the emotion she expresses is joy rather than sorrow. The other newcomer takes the crying woman's hand, with a sympathetic nod.

Hermione closes her eyes against the puzzling exchange between the two women. What can they possibly mean? That the description of this activity answers some deep-seated need inside them? It's preposterous.

But why is she shaking?

She has pursued Snape to this place, because she is obsessed with him and can't stop thinking about him. A shudder escapes her lips at this inner confession. It's true. She's pretended it was about something else all these weeks, but no. It goes back to the first day of her new position at Hogwarts. At the teachers' gathering, her new colleagues standing about with teacups and little glasses of sherry in their hands, Snape had come up to her and offered his hand.

"Welcome back, Miss Granger."

Oh, her hand had lain within his for mere seconds, but the frisson of near-electric intensity that shimmered up her arm had lit her blood to flame. And for another fragment of a moment his penetrating eyes had looked into hers and seen, she was quite sure, to the very depths of her sad and lonely soul.

Learning from Draco that TPE is some sort of hook-up place hasn't discouraged her at all. Here she is trembling all over, the idea of putting herself in the sexual thrall of Severus Snape filling her with an ache unlike any she's ever felt.

KiKi's voice calls her back to the present. "If you choose to stay and experience TPE tonight, you need only complete the newcomer questionnaire and a service chit."

Ramona glides into their midst and hands each of the newcomers a clipboard with a Self-Inking Quill attached.

KiKi continues her explanation. "There are established members of TPE who attend on Tuesday nights to give our newcomers an introduction to the club. You may check off whether you prefer to be the dominant or the submissive, whether you prefer a male or a female partner, and you'll answer a few questions about your limits. The last page lists the members who are available tonight. If you have been referred to us by someone who frequents the club, you may know the names of some of our members. Feel free to circle the name of anyone you wish to meet with. As long as there is not more than one request for a specific member, we should be able to accommodate your wishes."

Hermione immediately thumbs through to the final page. Six names are listed there, and Severus Snape is not one of them.

Hyperion

Venus

John Smith

Freyja

Tobias Prince

Jane Seymour

These are obviously nicknames, rather than real names...and Tobias was the name of Snape's father, while Prince was the surname of his mother. She knows this because she bothered to do the research, all those years ago, when Snape killed Dumbledore.

Without a second thought, Hermione circles Tobias Prince.

---

Severus stands in Harry's Place, empty-handed amongst a crowd of drink-swilling young adults. Had it not been for the importuning of Potter...and the quiet inquiry from Lucius...he would doubtless have given this event the go-by. Others he expected to see here have obviously done so...why would Hermione Granger not be present for her putative best friend's restaurant opening?

And why do you care?

He jerks his head to dislodge the thought, his shoulder length hair swaying against his face. His eyes dart right and left to see who has witnessed this, but no one is looking at him. In the midst of this crowd, he stands like a monolith. His former students move around him, giving a wide berth and keeping their eyes to themselves, for which he can only be grateful.

Moving surreptitiously, he withdraws his watch and glances at it. Just after eight...the newcomers will be nervously meeting at TPE, and he has put his name down to be there tonight.

At TPE, he is oddly comfortable in the company of people who consider themselves to be outside the norm. He is not an anomaly there. And the common use of glamours to disguise one's face is something he always uses. Few people at TPE know his identity.

He glides through the crowd to the proprietors and wishes them all success in their new endeavour. Draco inclines his head in response, but Potter eagerly shakes Severus' hand. Severus scarcely ever thinks of Potter's parents when he looks at him now. The young man has coalesced into a person in his own right, and though he is a bit on the needy side, Severus feels no inclination to repulse him.

When he escapes into the darkness, the cold air immediately clears his mind. There's no need to think about Miss Granger...not her searching brown eyes or her lips, hastily moistened by the tip of her tongue...not her beguiling quickness of mind or her skittishness when he draws near.

And certainly not solving the puzzle of the reason why she chooses to "follow" him when he leaves the castle some nights. He doesn't exactly like all the hype published about his spying, but it is an indisputable fact – he spent years of his life sneaking and lurking about. Does she believe it is possible for even a clever girl like her to follow him?

Tonight, the mystery of Hermione Granger is replaced by anticipation for the encounter he will experience at TPE, preferably with one of the newcomers.

The newcomers are always so grateful for his attentions and uniformly eager to please. He will enjoy an hour or so with one of them, with no worry of the social awkwardness he always feels when attempting to actually date a woman. The newcomers have no expectations of hearing from him again, and that is exactly the way he likes it.

Some people at TPE actively seek a partner, wishing to be part of a couple. Severus desires no such entanglement. He prefers to keep his little no-strings pleasures separate from the rest of his life.

At TPE, he is always in complete control.

---

He enters the building. The desk is deserted, which means the newcomers are meeting. He speaks his password, and the members' door opens, admitting him into the members' sitting room. Two dominants are present, as well as a few of the dominas. He responds to their greetings, pours a cup of tea from the service on the table, and seats himself in an armchair. He is decidedly sober...he has taken no beer, wine or liquor tonight. It is considered improper in the BDSM community to engage in scenes if either partner is altered by any substance.

His first visit had been as Lucius' guest, and he had bypassed the usual orientation meeting. After observing some scenes of various sorts, he was convinced. And he was too uplifted by his discovery of this place to be very annoyed with Lucius' gloating...Malfoy had pegged him perfectly.

Within two months' time he was offered membership. Now he visits two or three times a week, for the gratification it provides. Less than half the satisfaction he derives from his activities in this place are related to actual sex. He is an alpha male...a discovery he is pleased to have made, for it explains so much...and he craves the surrender of his partners as much, if not more, than he does sexual release.

KiKi enters the room with a small sheaf of parchment in her hands. She nods around the room, exchanging greetings with those gathered, then she speaks.

"We have three newcomers tonight, all female. I'll need one dominant and one domina."

Lady Jane Seymour cocks her head to one side. "I thought you had three?"

KiKi smiles broadly. "Sir Tobias, I have a special request for you."

Severus has become accustomed to the TPE custom of calling the dominants "sir" and the dominas "lady", although at first he had thought it a ridiculous affectation. However, the special request for him is unusual. He's had previous partners come back and request him again, and he's taken care with those requests, because he has no interest in having a woman become attached to him. In the case of a newcomer, however, he can see no harm in granting the request.

He accepts the service chit and newcomer questionnaire from KiKi. After glancing at the name, he asks, "Did ... Kitty say why she asked for me?"

"She says she likes your name."

Severus smirks and begins to read through the questionnaire.

---

Hermione stands in front of the full length mirror in the changing room, staring at herself in the plain white robes that are so long only the tips of her toes are visible beneath them. As KiKi explained, the TPE glamour has given her a different face and hair...it even changes her voice...but her body is unchanged.

"We leave your body the same, because we're not here to help you hide from the reality of yourself...we simply help you disguise your identity."

Hermione glances at the wooden cubicle in which she left her neatly folded clothes with her shoes. Her two choices of apparel for tonight are to be bare beneath the robes or to wear a sheer white sheath. She is wearing the sheath...she cannot bring herself to appear completely naked. Her heart feels as if it is racing, and she is light-headed with excitement.

What if Sir Tobias is Professor Snape? What if he isn't? And if he's disguised, as she is, how can she be sure?

She smoothes the pale blonde hair, so unlike her own, and stares at the average, blue-eyed face in the mirror. He will never recognize her like this, and that knowledge quivers through her like freedom, drawing a gasp from her lips and igniting a smouldering warmth in her tummy.

She can be whoever she wants to be tonight...do whatever strikes her fancy...and no one she knows will ever be aware of her actions.

Blonde-haired, blue-eyed Kitty will cease to exist in two hours...the length of the time the glamour persists...and by that time, Hermione will be long gone from TPE.

---

KiKi escorts her down a dim, deserted corridor and leads the way into a dark room. The floor is covered with a thick rug, and she can distinguish the shapes of furniture, but she cannot identify the pieces. In the middle of the room, there is a circle woven into the otherwise dark rug, like the full moon in the night sky. KiKi leads her to the circle.

"You'll stand here," KiKi says.

Hermione takes her place and looks to KiKi again.

"Kitty, do you understand that you left your power of choice at the door to this room?" KiKi asks.

Hermione swallows hard, and her anxiety ratchets up another notch. "Yes," she says, though her voice is tight and small, as if she's speaking past some obstruction in her throat.

KiKi smiles encouragingly. "You've made a good choice. Sir Tobias is excellent with newcomers. Trust him, and you'll be in strong, capable hands." With a final pat to Hermione's shoulder, KiKi moves to the door, leaving Hermione alone in the middle of the room. "Stand in that spot, and Sir Tobias will be with you shortly."

Hermione hears KiKi's departure, but she is still stuck on the words strong, capable hands. She inhales sharply, trying to calm herself. After his mesmerizing black eyes, Snape's hands are his second best feature. They are elegantly formed, with long fingers...sure and skilled whether wielding his wand or inscribing acidic comments on his students' homework. She watches him at work when she can do so undetected, and she has ample, first-hand confirmation of what those hands can do.

Sweet Circe, her inner shuddering has spread now to her extremities. She's trembling like a leaf in a gale.

Then a door opens and closes, but it's not the one she entered by...it's behind her. He's in the room, and she's not only facing the wrong way, but she's afraid if she attempts to turn, she'll fall.

Her nerves are stretched to the limit...one more stressor will surely send her right out of her mind. She closes her eyes, a whimper of distress like a breath of capitulation passing her lips.

---

Severus enters the room, making no effort to mute the noise. There are times when it is amusing to enter silently and startle the submissive within, but with newcomers, it is always more satisfying to make an audible entrance, because it never fails to exacerbate their nervousness.

With the flick of his fingers, he creates a spotlight that shines down on her, leaving the rest of the room murky.

His subject stands obediently in the circle, her back to him. The glamour has given her blonde hair, which is a pity. He finds that he prefers darker hair, but it is of no matter. She is rather petite, standing little more than five foot five, he estimates. She has a womanly shape beneath the white robes, with nicely rounded hips. On the questionnaire, she put her age in the 20s decade...a bit younger than his preference, but of no real import.

It's not as if he's going to fuck her. He seldom fucks a newcomer...their sweetly trembling submission is usually enough for the rapacious alpha male within.

In a firm tone, he says, "Remove the robes."