New Ideas

And, very, very big thanks to my wonderful new beta Nakhash Mekashefah who beta'd this chapter.

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Snape sat at the High Table at dinner Thursday evening, glowering at Albus Dumbledore who had decided to let his colleagues know that he and Hermione would be going to see Shakespeare, together. McGonagall had finally stopped glaring at him for the first time since he had received the betrothal certificate from the Ministry of Magic. He glanced over the tables of students, pausing slightly to note that Hermione was carrying on an animated conversation with young Miss Weasley.

It had been three days since their talk about her lack of submission, three days of watching her sort through her feelings, though he could tell she was making a concerted effort to put herself in the right mindset. Of course, the fact that she was still in school put a damper on what he could do with her. She really didn't have much in the way of spare time between studying and social life, but he had to admit he couldn't really complain...he'd had sex nearly every day in the last month and felt sated, at least on a physical level, for the first time in far too many years. He was sleeping better as a result, and didn't feel quite so on edge as he usually did.

As he glanced back over the tables, he noticed that Hermione and Miss Weasley were both watching him, though they looked away quickly and giggled, turning to whisper to each other. He gritted his teeth and shot a sharp scowl to Hermione...if he were the subject of 'girl talk' he would be very...well, what would he be? His expression changed to one of thoughtfulness, which wasn't too different from his scowl in reality, and Hermione wasn't looking his direction so glaring at her wouldn't do much good at the moment. What on earth would she possibly be telling her friends? If Hermione were perhaps discussing his...endowments...he had no reason to be ashamed; but, at the same time, if Ginevra Weasley, no...she couldn't possibly be discussing him like that with Miss Weasley. Hermione was practically a prude in comparison to most of the other girls. But, just to be sure, he would bring up the subject that night before they retired to the bedroom.

"You know, Severus," McGonagall said, "I was worried about Hermione when she decided to marry you, but it doesn't seem you've harmed the girl."

"Of course not," he spat. "The entire reason Albus had me petition was to protect her from harm. You've had to wait two months to figure that out?" he asked, incensed.

"Severus, now, there's no need to get upset..." McGonagall began.

"No, of course not," he bit back, and left the table, quickly exiting through the staff entrance. That woman had given him nothing but grief over Hermione but now that Albus had twinkled and mentioned they were going to see a Muggle play, she thought it was wonderful. If Albus continued to play the barmy old matchmaker, he might consider tendering his resignation early. Snape didn't want to be the brunt of jokes...though he knew most of his colleagues held him in some level of disdain, even after his work with spying on Voldemort and playing an integral role in his defeat, the humor they found now in his possibly becoming romantic in some way, aggravated him far beyond being held at arm's length and seen as something of a necessary evil.

He passed through the entrance hall and spied Draco Malfoy watching him closely from near the doors of the Great Hall, glaring at Snape as if he wished to cast an Unforgivable.

"Mr. Malfoy, is there a reason you are gaping at me?"

"Yeah...just wondering if the Mudblood whore is the reason you don't seem so cranky, anymore. Really too bad you got her...my Father would have put her to much better use than you ever would have. And then, you went and put him in St. Mungo's. We used to think you could be trusted, Snape. I hope your Mudblood sucking your prick is enough consolation for a traitor."

"Fifty points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy, for your disrespect," he hissed, and quickly crossed the hall to tower over the boy. "And if you ever say anything like that about my wife again, you'll find yourself joining your father in St. Mungo's. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Malfoy?"

Malfoy set his mouth in a hard line and glared at Snape. "Yes...perfectly, Professor Snape."

Snape glared at Malfoy as he quickly went down the stairs to the dungeons, likely on his way to the Slytherin common room. It seemed young Mr. Malfoy would be someone to look out for, now, as well. He hoped his reactive response to Malfoy's statements had made the boy see it would be unwise to touch the girl. While some would have seen his defense of his wife as an act of love, or of at least strong feelings, most half-intelligent Slytherins would know it for what it was. Hermione was his, and no one was going to harm, or insult, anyone who belonged to him.

*****

"So, he's really taking you to see a play?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, but it's only because Professor Dumbledore bought tickets and is sending him on an errand to pick up something from someone...apparently, the Headmaster thinks we should spend some time together."

"That's so funny," Ginny said, giggling. "Snape at a play...like it's a regular date!" Hermione laughed, as well, and they both glanced up at the High Table and quickly away again, not wanting to be caught giggling and looking at Severus.

"Well, I'll be gone most of the weekend since we also have reservationsfor a bed and breakfast."

"Hey, at least it's this weekend. You'll still be able to make it to Hogsmeade for next weekend. Are you going to be in Gryffindor Tower, tonight?"

"No...I want to catch up on my homework. And really, Harry keeps asking about how things are going with Severus; I'm getting a little tired of that and of the others whispering around me. Hey, why don't you come hang out with me? I've got a separate room with my own entrance and I haven't had anyone over yet. Besides, we can have more privacy than in the common room."

*****

Severus could still hear them talking when he settled back in the living room after a hot bath, and contemplated placing a silencing charm on Hermione's door. Here was definitely a drawback of being married to a teenager...she acted like one at times. Giggling. Really, he had to listen to giggling in his quarters. It was wrong. Yet, he didn't cast the silencing charm...on some level, he did find it interesting. He glanced over to the clock...it was nearly curfew, time to send Miss Weasley on her way. Placing his book back in its place on the shelf, he walked to Hermione's door and knocked. She called out for him to enter and he opened the door, looking back and forth between the two girls.

"Yes, Severus?" Hermione asked.

"Curfew is in ten minutes. I felt Miss Weasley should be informed, in case the two of you had lost track of time," he said.

"Oh, yes sir," Ginny muttered, jumping up and grabbing her books and papers. "See you at breakfast?" she asked quietly, as she passed Hermione.

"Okay, Ginny. See you at breakfast," Hermione said, giving Ginny a reassuring smile. Hopefully, her friends wouldn't be frightened of him for too long. His mere presence would be enough to dampen moods.

Once Ginny left, Hermione turned to Severus and said "I'm actually surprised you didn't wait until after curfew so you could deduct house points from Gryffindor."

"Next time, I may do just that. However, I wanted to speak with you about something."

"What's that?"

"I would not like to find that I have been the subject of matters which girls are wont to speak of amongst themselves," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"You mean girl talk?" Hermione asked, with a bit of a smile.

"Yes...if that is what you call it. I am a private person, Hermione. Matters of a personal nature should be kept private. I only ask that you maintain discretion, is that understood?"

"So, you're trying to tell me what to talk about when I'm with my friends?" Hermione asked after a moment, sounding somewhat offended.

"Hermione, you try my patience," he said in an agitated tone. "You know perfectly well what I mean. I will not be the subject of gossip within Hogwarts from the mouth of my own wife. I've been teaching for as long as you have been alive. As Head of Slytherin House I've been in a position to overhear many conversations between female classmates. I know very well that girls are much more candid and explicit in the sharing of information than are boys. I will not be spoken of in that way. Is that understood?" he asked firmly, crossing his arms and setting his face in a firm scowl. Hermione failed to be impressed...seeing someone in the throes of climax had a tendency to make him seem a bit less intimidating.

"You've probably just heard Slytherin girls talking; what makes you think Gryffindors would talk like that?" she retorted archly.

"I've always thought the biggest failing of Gryffindors is that they believe in the innate nobility of their own house, blindly. Can you honestly tell me you have never heard the other girls in Gryffindor speaking of their boyfriends and their intimate encounters?"

"Well, no..." she admitted. In fact, sometimes she had wondered if she were the only non sex-crazed girl amongst the sixth and seventh years.

"Then you are aware of what I mean. I'm not telling you how to behave around your friends. I simply value my privacy. However, I know you do have some discretion; you aren't known as a gossip."

"All right, I see what you mean," Hermione agreed. She realized that if she were going to try to argue with him on something, it would be best to make sure she had a proverbial leg to stand on in the argument. She had been so eager to squelch any possible attempt to stifle her that she'd failed to think before rushing to the defensive.

"Good. And, I need to know if you have arranged to visit your parents this Christmas break? I'll need to make the appropriate arrangements to my schedule."

"I usually do, I was hoping this year wouldn't be much different. I figure, with Lucius Malfoy out of the picture, though, you wouldn't have to come with me if you didn't want to." She wasn't exactly saying she didn't want him along, but she had a feeling it would make for an awkward Christmas.

"Lucius may be out of the picture, but Draco is not. I have reason to believe it is not over with him, and it would be best not to leave you unprotected over the holidays."

"Oh...well, wouldn't that be taking you away from what you usually do during the holidays?"

"No. During the holidays I catch up on my grading. I can do that just as well in your parents' home as I can here."

"So then, why would you need to make changes to your schedule?" Hermione asked. Really, he needed to make plans for where he was going to work on his grading?

"Hermione, stop asking so many damned questions," he said in an exasperated tone, and exited her room.

Hermione sighed and propped her head on her hands, looking down at her homework on her desk. He'd certainly been right about there being no romance. She spent the next hour checking over her homework and, once she was satisfied that everything due for the next two weeks was finished and properly organized, she made her way to the shower.

Of course, Snape's bathroom was even better than her Head Girl's bathroom had been...four showerheads certainly did make for a thorough shower. She stood in the center, after a thorough scrub, reveling in the feeling of the water buffeting her body from all sides. She felt tense after bending over her work for so long and brought a hand up to knead at the cords of muscles at the base of her neck, determining that one of the first things she would do when she got home for Christmas break would be to make an appointment with a massage therapist. Only...it wasn't really 'home' anymore...this was her home now.

She brought her other hand up and crossed her arms across her chest, kneading at her shoulders and then slowly moving downward. She paused as she passed over her breasts...it had been a long time since she'd last tried masturbating. It wasn't that she was uncomfortable with it; she'd just never been able to produce enough of a reaction to really make her feel it was worth the effort. But now, her body felt alive, her senses heightened and her nipples stiffened as she rubbed her palms over them. Curious, and encouraged by her success so far, she ran one hand down between her legs and experimentally brushed against herself. She'd learned a lot about her own body from Severus, something she hadn't thought would happen, and now she could produce reactions for herself that she hadn't been able to before. Her hips tilted and her head fell back as she rubbed herself, biting her lip in pleasure. Just as she felt she was nearing climax, she felt something hard and cold against her throat.

"Hermione, taking a long time in the shower, aren't you?" Severus whispered in her ear, as he pressed his body up against hers.

Hermione jumped, the feel of cold steel on her throat sending adrenaline coursing through her body.

"I thought I should like to join you...you seem so tense. Don't be scared, I'm not going to hurt you...much." He chuckled softly as he spoke. "Move over this way...that's it, now turn around and sit," he directed. Now facing him as she sat on the bench at the back of the shower, for he had moved with her and rested on his knees before her, he was only a few inches above eye level now. "Scoot forward, Hermione," he said, and she did, her knees parted and rested on either side of his thighs. He pulled his hand back from her throat and she could see he was holding his straight razor, the one he actually shaved with...only, he'd been holding the rounded, dull side to her. She sighed in relief when she saw this.

"Hermione," he said, sounding softly chiding, "You should know better than to think I would slit your throat with a razor, by now." He leaned forward to kiss her, and then back to nibble her ear and neck. Hermione moaned...she had been so close before he came in, and now the adrenaline gave her arousal a new edge. He ran the dull side of the blade over her body before pausing between her open legs and moving away, reaching for a jar on the floor of the shower.

Hermione watched as he scooped some gooey green substance from the jar and spread it over her mons, working it through her thatch of curls. It tingled slightly as he worked it in. Her eyes grew wide as he brought the razor to the top of her hairline and she scooted quickly back against the wall, snapping her knees together. He looked at her sharply. "Get back to the edge of the bench or you will be punished," he threatened.

Slowly, Hermione scooted her hips forward again, spreading her knees wide as his hands directed. She held her breath as he once again brought the razor to the top of her hairline and began to shave her.

"If you hold perfectly still," he said, carefully watching what he was doing, "you won't get cut." Of course, he wasn't about to tell her that was his special shaving gel potion...getting a nick, or even razor rash, while using it was nearly impossible. But, it was certainly nice to see her hold perfectly still for him, barely even daring to breathe.

Hermione held herself stiffly as the razor scraped her pubic hair away in little movements. She watched as his deft fingers stretched and pulled at her skin to give him a straight surface...the way he shielded her delicate inner labia, with his fingers, from the blade. She looked at his face and saw he was focused quite firmly on his task, and so was surprised as he slipped two fingers inside her and curled them in slow movements against her inner walls, while he continued using the razor in the other hand. Hermione leaned back against the stone wall of the shower, relaxing and focusing on enjoying herself as she watched his progress with the straight razor.

It looked...different. He was nearly done and, a few swipes later, pulled away and turned one of the showerheads to direct a spray of water over her torso.

"Much better," he commented approvingly. He'd been toying with the idea of telling her to shave or doing it for her the first time. He'd decided, just tonight, he would enjoy her reactions to a blade in his hand. "Perhaps, I'll shave soon, as well; you'll find the sensations produced that way are quite enjoyable," he said.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and glanced down at his crotch, trying to imagine it hairless. She smiled and looked back up to him, noting his own amused expression.

They exited the shower and dried themselves before moving to the bedroom. Severus turned to look at her and smiled lightly. Hermione waited for his instruction, a light smile playing on her lips as well. Already, the feel of cool air against her skin was building a reaction. She wondered what he would want to do tonight...usually the longer sessions he saved for the weekends, but he was considering something. He nodded to himself and sat on the bed, moving gracefully away from the edge, one foot tucked under his other leg, which he stretched out on the bedspread. "Come here." Hermione moved onto the bed and he took her by the shoulders and bent her over his thighs, positioning her so her pubis rested on his knee. One arm lay across her upper back, pressing her into the bed. "Spread your legs, Hermione," he instructed.

Her body quivered in anticipation and she jerked slightly when his hand came to rest on her bottom. "I'm going to spank you," he declared. Hermione automatically tensed, pulling her pelvis forward and found that his knee ground against her in a most pleasant way. He began, striking her buttocks alternately in a steady rhythm...not too hard, but enough to sting. Hermione bit her lip, holding in her cries as she did her best to remain still, but couldn't help rocking her hips slightly. He stopped after a moment, resting his hand on her heated backside, and asked, "Why are you so quiet when I spank you?"

"I...I...um...don't know...sir?" Hermione answered when she'd recovered her breath. She had always made a point not to cry out; though there were times she couldn't help it. Up until their conversation three days ago, she'd done so because she didn't want him thinking she was weak, and didn't want him to gain any satisfaction in that. But now, she had promised to try and submit, yet the automatic reaction to bite her lip and hold her breath continued.

"Don't try to suppress your natural reactions," he said, as he moved his hand between her legs and dipped his fingers between her labia. She sighed in pleasure as he did; the feeling was different, but quite nice since she was shaved. He pulled his hand back and continued spanking her, enjoying the growing redness of her buttocks and the way her hips writhed against his knee...she was very wet now. It hadn't taken too long at all for her to associate a small amount of pain with pleasure. Soon enough, he would be free to explore more intense relations without worry of traumatizing her. He was satisfied when she stopped holding her breath and let out little moans with each swat. Severus increased the force of his blows and, soon enough, she was shaking and writhing and sobbing. He stopped and moved his hand between her legs again, resting his fingers lightly over her clitoris, knowing it would drive her to move.

Hermione caught her breath gradually as the sting subsided. In a way, she felt she'd completely lost control...once she had let go and allowed herself to give voice to the pain, she couldn't stop. Tears flowed freely from her eyes and she realized she had been grinding against his knee during the spanking; it was nearly embarrassing. She had actually neared climax and now her body was humming with arousal. His fingers resting gently on her clitoris were driving her mad; she wanted him to move and she couldn't help but begin to writhe against his fingers to produce sensation.

"No, no, Hermione, I didn't tell you to move," he purred, amused. She was like a strung bow under his hands, tight and ready, poised to release with force. "I'll have to punish you for that," he chided, smirking as she let out a shuddering breath at his words. "You will keep your legs apart. If you bring them together, I will be forced to be more...creative...with your punishment."

Hermione expected more of the same sort of spanking, and so when he pulled away and brought his open hand down on her bare mound, she gasped in surprise as she fought the natural urge to snap her legs together. Each burst of stinging pain also brought intense jolts of pleasure as he repeatedly struck her sensitive flesh. By the time she had counted twelve strikes, silently, it hurt enough to cause her to jerk her hips and cry out, nearly screaming.

He stopped, after a short while, and allowed her to catch her breath, once more, then nudged her to get up and to sit back on her heels. She was still breathing raggedly and had tears streaming down her cheeks. He raised a hand to cup her face and she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.

"Very good, Hermione," he said softly, as he brushed his lips over hers. "Don't ever conceal your reactions from me. I want to see and hear what I do to you; it pleases me." He paused a moment before tilting her chin up; when she opened her eyes, he said, "These tears are nothing to be ashamed of." Though his voice was soft, he spoke firmly, and she believed him. It had felt good, in a way, to release that tension. It was almost relaxing to know that she had a time at which she didn't have to hide her feelings and hold her reactions in check. Hermione nodded slightly and he pushed her to lie back on the bed.

He took her swiftly, pinning her arms to the bed. But, as he neared completion, he brought one hand to her throat, pressing lightly. Hermione's eyes grew wide, and he decided not to do that, just yet. Instead, he kept his hand over her throat lightly, not pressing against her like he wanted to. Soon enough, she would be ready to enjoy that too.

*****

The next morning, when Hermione awoke, she discovered Severus was sitting in the living room, which was odd; he was usually gone when she got up in the mornings. She mumbled, "Morning, Severus," as she went to her room and dressed and gathered her things. Before she left, he came into her room.

"Wait, I will walk with you to the Great Hall, this morning," he said. "As I told you last night, I have reason to believe Draco may be planning something, and I don't want you walking in the halls alone, especially this close to the Slytherin common room."

"Did something happen last night with him?" she asked.

"We had...words," he answered vaguely. "Tell me, are Potter and Weasley on the same schedule as you are?" he asked.

"No, but we do have a lot of classes together. They don't have Arithmancy with me, which is Tuesdays and Thursdays, and they also don't have Ancient Runes, which is Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons."

"What time is your Ancient Runes class, today?"

"Two o'clock."

"I will escort you, then, as well. In the meantime, do not walk the halls alone. When possible, remain with Potter...Draco may not be incredibly smart, but he knows better than to take on someone who defeated the Dark Lord."

As they walked through the halls, Hermione reflected on how many different faces her husband had. In his school robes he was formal for the most part, cruel to his students, and often rude. She had never been able to see him as a sexual being before...he had seemed so, well, above that. But, she was beginning to wonder what part of him she saw in the bedroom. He was still formal in his own way, demanding and strict, yet at times she felt she saw something almost resembling...tenderness. Well, not really tenderness, no...but it was something, and the only time she had seen it was after he had thoroughly exerted his will upon her, and even then only occasionally. She still wasn't sure if that was his way of easing her into learning her role in the bedroom, or if it was something more about him. And even then, why would the only times that she saw anything even slightly soft about him be directly after he had inflicted pain upon her?

She wanted to figure him out. If she was going to have any hope of possibly influencing him, she had to figure out why he did what he did. Why would he enjoy spanking her until she cried? She still hadn't figured that one out, though she was learning to accept that it was a fact and that she could handle it. Really, she was a Gryffindor; she couldn't be scared of a bit of spanking. So, he got off on turning her bum red; it was almost funny when she thought of it like that.

*****

Why on earth, Hermione wondered, had Dumbledore picked this play. It was horrid. Well, no, it wasn't a horrid play...but it was the last thing she would want to have to think about. If only her problem could be so easily solved by Puck distributing love potions. She hadn't thought about the possibility of actual love much, lately. For now, she only wanted to focus on the freedoms she had remaining. She wanted to do well in her schoolwork, spend time with her friends, and carry on much as she had before marriage.

But, the story of a young woman being forced to marry a man she did not love, by her father; and, a society which would enforce this decision, brought her own situation to the forefront.

She had noticed, out of the corner of her eye, when a man had approached Severus and passed a small box to him, but other than that had remained focused on the happenings of the stage. It was evening when they exited the theatre and walked a few blocks to the restaurant Dumbledore had arranged reservations at.

Hermione looked over her menu and, just as she was about to inform the waiter of her decision, Severus spoke.

"My wife and I will have the Bavette Farcie, and a bottle of your house red."

"Very good, sir," the waiter said, and moved to take their menus.

"No," Hermione declared, eliciting surprised glances from the waiter and her husband. "I will have the roast chicken and grilled vegetables on the side, thank you." She folded her menu and handed it to the waiter. "I would like a glass of your house white to go with that, as well," she said, smiling stiffly to the waiter who nodded and left them.

"Severus, I am perfectly capable of ordering my own food in a restaurant."

"Yes, apparently so," he replied blandly. It appeared that his approach, on the few occasions he'd had to dine with a woman over the years, was not appreciated by his wife. They sat in awkward silence for a moment as Hermione thought about the play some more.

"Dumbledore does have a knack for finding the worst way to make a point," Severus observed, after some time.

"Oh?" Hermione asked, not quite making the connection. "Oh...yes, he does," she said again, when she made the connection with the play. "But, what point was he trying to make?"

"Likely, he thought to meddle and give us both hints of what he thinks we should be doing. I wouldn't take Shakespeare too seriously, if I were you, Hermione. For that matter, I wouldn't take Dumbledore seriously on certain matters," he said.

"I can't help but wonder if things would be simpler with a few love potions," Hermione said quietly, as she took a sip of her water.

"They're illegal for good reason."

"Yes...just like contraceptive potions practically are."

"So, do you think a love potion would make things easier for you? For either of us?"

Hermione looked up at him, seriously contemplating it. Would it be easier? "No," she answered. "A feeling without reason would be empty. But still...I do wonder..." she trailed off and looked down, distracting herself by taking a drink of water.

"Best not to wonder about what cannot, or should not, be. Love is overrated," he declared.

"You really think so?" Hermione asked disbelievingly.

"Yes, people do foolish things when they are in love. Much better to handle life without those sorts of complications, I believe."

Hermione thought of responding to that...but really couldn't think of what to say. She was married to a man who thought love was 'overrated', of all things. Soon enough, their dinner arrived and they both ate in silence for a while.

Severus realized his thoughts on love may have depressed his wife. Likely, the girl was hoping to find something like love with him. He was going to have words with Albus when they returned to Hogwarts regarding his dismal choice in entertainment. What did the man think he was playing at? Hermione needed to face reality, not be led to unrealistic expectations which would only cause disappointment.

"Hermione, perhaps my previous words were not...prudent. I understand you had hoped to marry for love, one day. Unfortunately, reality rarely matches our hopes. Still, it is quite possible to be content without finding some kind of fairy tale notion of 'true love'."

Hermione looked up to him, wondering if he actually thought he was being comforting, in some way. She nodded and pursed her lips. After a moment she asked, "Are you content?"

He frowned, considering her question. "In some ways, yes. However, there are things I would like to change about my life."

"Such as?"

"Teaching; I grow weary of it. I no longer need to remain at Hogwarts to fulfill my role as a spy. Though I had thought to remain for another five years, I have been thinking recently that it would be good to find another place of employment."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at his announcement. Would he want to leave Hogwarts so soon? She had hoped to stay there for another few years, at least...it was familiar; she had friends, mentors there. "Oh?" she asked, trying to sound neutral. "How soon were you thinking of quitting?"

"I would stay for the end of this year, at least...but I'm not sure if I will remain after this year. It would not be difficult to find another job in my field. But, have you thought about your plans after graduation?"

"I'm mostly focusing on studying for my NEWT's, now. But, I have been considering lobbying to get the marriage law repealed once I graduate."

"There are already many people working on that who have years of experience with that sort of thing. I would think you would rather put your efforts towards a career. You have potential in Arithmancy, and even in Potions, should you so desire."

"I was thinking about that before, but now I'm not so sure. It doesn't seem right not to be working on ending the marriage law."

"The law is weak, as it is. It would be highly unlikely to stand for more than another five years, anyway...that is time you should be putting to your own life."

Hermione paused to take a bite of her chicken. Things seemed to be spiraling out of control. She couldn't tell what he was saying, exactly; she did worry, still, that he would try to take his controlling mannerisms and apply them to other areas of her life. But, at the same time, if she reacted by immediately jumping to the wrong conclusion, it wouldn't help with the somewhat amicable rapport they had developed. Finally, she settled on a fairly neutral way to figure out what he was getting at. "Either way, that's something I'll decide when I come to it."

"Of course. I'm not trying to tell you what to do, Hermione," Severus said evenly, giving her a pointed gaze. "I was offering my opinion, which you may take or leave." She seemed to be satisfied with that. He went back to his stuffed flank steak. He knew repealing the law was something to work towards, and while he wasn't exactly opposed to Hermione working towards that goal, he did think it was best that she work on her education and career first. Those who were already married would not be able to dissolve their unions, even if the law were repealed, anyway.

When they had finished their dinner and left the restaurant, Hermione requested to walk to the B&B they would be staying at rather than Apparating. It was a nice night; the stars were clear and the air crisp. There was snow on the ground, dampening sound and adding to the peaceful feeling.

They came to the bed and breakfast, having walked in silence for nearly twenty minutes. The reservations were in order, and they were ushered in and directed to a room by an elderly lady who was unable to climb the stairs. They thanked her and quickly retired before the woman could expound in more depth about her hip replacement surgery.

*****

Hermione entered the bedroom and flipped the light switch. The room was shockingly floral, but of a decent size, with a queen sized bed and a small sitting area with two somewhat worn overstuffed chairs arranged on one side. The door closed and she heard Severus placing wards, including a strong silencing charm.

"Stand in the center of the rug," he ordered, when he had finished.

Hermione moved to the rug, which was placed about six feet from the two armchairs, and waited as Severus walked across the room and seated himself in one, directly facing her. She felt the prickle of anticipation begin as he leaned back and observed her for a moment. "Remove your clothing...slowly," he directed.

Hermione began by slipping her shoes from her feet and positioning them together at the side of the oval rug. Next, she removed her blouse...slowly. She watched him as he watched her, growing excited seeing the glimmer in his eyes as she followed his directions. He was enjoying this, and after their talk she felt much better about that. She allowed her blouse to slip to the floor behind her and unbuttoned her skirt, slowly sliding it down and revealing her body. When she had removed her bra and panties, he pulled his wand out and 'Accio'd' her lacy black knickers Hermione watched, slightly stunned, as he brought them to his nose and drew in a deep breath...that was certainly...different. But, so were a lot of things about him.

"Kneel," he intoned softly, still clutching her knickers in his hand.

Hermione knelt, spreading her knees wide, and waited. Her breathing increased under his dark, steady gaze as she waited for her next instruction. He reached into a pocket and withdrew an obsidian pestle...something she'd used countless times to grind herbs or other potions ingredients. He whispered an incantation and then levitated it over to her. "Take the pestle," he instructed. Hermione did, and gasped when she held it...it was vibrating and seemed to send tingles of pleasure even in her fingertips. "Now, pleasure yourself."

Tentatively, Hermione eased the pestle down to her bare mons and teased the smooth stone over her labia and clitoris, already slick from her anticipation. Her body reacted almost immediately, now, to his commanding voice in the bedroom. She closed her eyes and began rubbing the humming, tingling instrument against her clitoris and, within a few moments, was reaching orgasm.

"Stop!" Snape commanded.

Startled, she did.

"Good, you may continue," he said. Hesitating only a moment, as she got over the interruption, she began again and soon she felt the pleasure building and, in only a moment, she was sure she would...

"Stop," he commanded again. Hermione stopped, but couldn't hide her disappointment. He allowed her to continue again; and again, he ordered her to stop. It didn't take long before Hermione was quivering with need. When he told her to continue once more, after being interrupted, she sighed, knowing he would only make her stop again.

"Are you growing weary of our game, Hermione? Would you like to be allowed to finish?" he asked huskily.

"Yes, please," she answered.

He stood and walked to stand before her, looking down with a smirk at her on the floor in front of him. "Of course, if I am going to allow you to climax early, you'll have to accept a penalty, first. Would you like to continue our game; or would you rather take your punishment and be allowed to climax, directly afterwards?"

"I...I'll take the punishment, sir," Hermione responded, hardly believing she was answering like that.

"Very well, remove my belt," he directed.

With shaking hands, Hermione reached up to his leather belt and slowly unbuckled it. She was actually unbuckling his belt, and he was going to use it on her. A month ago she wouldn't have thought it possible, but now, she was willing, and she was working on accepting his instruction. Slowly, she pulled the belt from around his waist, sliding it from the loops in his charcoal slacks. Once it was free, she placed it into his waiting hand. She was shaking now, a strange mixture of anticipation and arousal and a bit of fear that seemed to focus and throb in her lower regions.

"I will give you ten strokes with my belt. After that, you may pleasure yourself to completion. Bend over; rest your head on the floor." He paused a moment and then squatted to whisper in her ear. "There is a silencing charm on the room," he said, reminding her of the previous evening's instruction.

Hermione bent over, placing one hand on the floor to rest her forehead upon and clutching the humming obsidian pestle in her other hand. She was acutely aware of his footsteps as he walked around to her side. She heard the whoosh of leather through the air and the sudden sting against her backside caused her to jerk halfway up and yelp. She felt Severus's hand come down on the back of her neck and push her quickly back to the floor. The blows came in a predictable rhythm after that, each one marking a stripe of burning fire across her buttocks, pain lancing through her body; and she did scream out for the last four, and was sobbing by the time he finished.

"You may continue now, Hermione," he purred, and knelt down beside her to rub the welts he'd made, as she brought the pestle back to her clitoris and worked it over her slick, swollen flesh with a shaking hand, while her breath still came in halting hitches and muffled sobs. The fire in her buttocks seemed to concentrate and spread as her orgasm built again, but she felt relieved knowing that she could continue, this time. Just as she was nearing completion, he pulled his hand away and began spanking her again, this time using his open hand; but instead of driving her orgasm away, it heightened and she climaxed, unabashedly rocking her hips to move against the vibrating stone and to meet his hand as it fell repeatedly.

She stilled and caught her breath after a few minutes.

"Give me the pestle," Severus said. Hermione handed it to him, still kneeling on the floor. He took it and moved behind her, unbuttoning his trousers and releasing his hard cock, resting it at her entrance. Hermione tilted her hips and started to move back, but his hand gripping her firmly stopped her. She held still, waiting for him to plunge inside her, but he only remained where he was. After a moment, she felt the pestle at her entrance, as well, and moaned as he dipped it inside her. He removed it and trailed it up and rested it against her anus, causing her to clench her buttocks together in reflex. He chuckled at her reaction.

"I suppose we'll have to work on that reaction another time," he observed, before forcefully plunging into her. Hermione cried out as he moved within her, roughly using her hips to pull her against him, increasing the force of his thrusts. He wanted it to last, to pummel her until she was begging him to stop. He closed his eyes and recited the list of ingredients for Wolfsbane; the sight of his cock pummeling Hermione, with her bright red striped backside, would drive him over the edge too soon. Of course, reciting the ingredients for Wolfsbane made him think of Lupin, and that was enough to drive down the oncoming climax, for the moment.

Hermione's knees felt raw on the carpet, and her breasts were beginning to chafe with her movement against the floor. She wasn't thinking much of that, though, her attention was focused on his hands and his hips and his cock. His scrotum slapped heavily against her clit and she was going to come again, soon. She cried out as he pounded her and then pulled away abruptly; he still hadn't finished.

"Turn around, now," he snapped breathlessly. Hermione moved around and he grabbed her by the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her over to his glistening cock. "Suck me. I want to come in your mouth," he ordered. Hermione complied, barely hesitating at her own taste and smell on him. He didn't seem to think it was bad, after all. His hands gripped her hair as she worked up and down on him, but he never did more than nudge her slightly to indicate the rhythm or depth he desired. She'd heard enough from other girls in Gryffindor to know that was better than how many guys acted over being fellated.

She swallowed quickly as he came, this time without second thoughts worrying her. She smirked slightly at him as he fell back, bracing himself with his hands behind him on the floor. It really was something to see the stiff and formal Potions Master panting for breath, post-coitus, with his trousers around his knees.

"And what are you smiling about," he growled, when he opened his eyes and saw her.

"Nothing, sir," she answered demurely.

"Good, because if you were taking humor from this I would have to chastise you accordingly," he warned her.

"Yes, sir," she agreed, working to keep her features straight.

"Now, I do believe there is a bathroom in this suite. Would you care to see if your Transfiguration skills are up to enlarging a bathtub to an appropriate size?" he asked, with an arched eyebrow, dignity firmly back in place as he kicked off his shoes and stood to undress.

"Yes, sir," Hermione answered, and fumbled through her previously discarded skirt to find her wand. The tub transfiguration went well enough.

When Severus entered the bathroom, the tub was filled. It took only a raised eyebrow and a pointed glance at the soap for Hermione to attend him. He relaxed as she scrubbed his body, watching as she moved gracefully, without the shy awkwardness of their wedding night. He noted her bum would likely be bruised...tonight was the first time he had used enough force to leave bruises, and she seemed fine. Soon enough, a few marks wouldn't be enough to cause her worry.

When she had finished with him, he lay back in the water and watched as she bathed herself. He had to wonder if someone else would have taken to him as well as she had, if he'd had to 'rescue' some other Muggle-born from Lucius Malfoy. Hermione was intelligent at least, much more than most of her classmates. She kept to her own pursuits most of the time and, when they did share company, she was not onerous. Physically she was comely, not necessarily beautiful, but pretty enough despite the way her hair stuck out in all directions in the mornings. He would have to work on her bad habit of wearing rather unattractive Muggle clothing, though. She was healthy and had proved resilient enough thus far, not so skinny that he had to worry about bruising her bones with a paddle or other instruments.

He did hope she wouldn't become depressed concerning ideas of love. He wasn't really sure why people got so worked up about the idea. He had seen otherwise intelligent men and women do things, which no one in their right mind would do, all because of love. It was a ridiculous notion in all, completely irrelevant to life and decision-making. Hermione could be content without it if people like Albus bloody Dumbledore weren't constantly shoving reminders under her nose.

When they settled under the sheets to sleep, Severus pulled Hermione against him, wrapping one arm under her head and cupping a breast in his other hand and nestling his hips against hers. Sleep came quickly for both of them.

*****

Hermione decided to relax with a book on Sunday. She hadn't had a lazy day in far too long and after the long walk along Hadrian's Wall yesterday, she felt she deserved a lie-in. Her studies were caught up, and so she lounged in her room, glad the couch was comfortable, with her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, barefoot, and in comfortable sweats. She was reading of Lazarus Long telling his life story on the planet Segunda as he recovered from near-death. The often-casual sex in Heinlein's works had seemed unrealistic in many ways, to her, but at the same time, she could see from a vantage of cultural difference how those attitudes could develop.

His cultural attitudes also make her think about the difference in Muggle and Wizard culture. Apparently, he thought "rubbing blue mud into your belly-button" (if that's what the local custom is) is just as much a survival skill as anything else. This reminded her of her folly during her fifth year at Hogwarts in rushing into attempting to change deeply ingrained cultural traditions with the house-elves. It hadn't done any good. However, there had to be a better way to change things and still stick with the cultural traditions.

She read through the story of "The Man Who Was Too Lazy to Fail" and thought the protagonist would have done well in Slytherin. Later, she was intrigued by the genetic explanations of the 'Mirror Twins' Lazarus had bought on one stop on his trade run through the galaxy when he became enraged at the female of the pair having been mistreated by means of a too-tight chastity belt and had taken it upon himself to rescue the pair of twin slaves and teach them to be independent...if only her own fight to free the house-elves could have worked so well. It was a touching story and, of course, the genetic elements reminded her of the problems the Wizarding world was facing with inbreeding. It seemed this was Heinlein's genetic treatise; almost every story within seemed to have something to do with it, including the dangers of inbreeding. It wasn't until late that evening, when she was reading about the early formation of the Howard Families Foundation, that an idea came upon her. Yes, it was fictional...but it was so simple...it could work!

Immediately, she set to work: outlining a plan, possible ways to present it both to the Wizengamot and to the general public, how to finance it, along with a few basic, but promising, Arithmancy calculations. It might take a while, she knew that, but this could solve the problem of inbreeding and do away with forced marriages at the same time. It still wasn't a perfect solution; the ethics were still ambiguous; no problem really had a perfect solution but this would be much better. Why on earth hadn't they thought of doing something like that, instead? Damned wizards and their traditions.

By the time Severus entered their quarters an hour later, Hermione had outlined her plan. She heard him come in and went to the living room.

"Severus, I've got it. I think I've got a way to repeal the Marriage Law!"

"Do you?" he asked, raising his brows in surprise at her ecstatic pronouncement.

"Yes, here, take a look," she said, and thrust the pile of parchments into his hands. "I got the idea while reading about a fictional eugenics project...while fictional, I think it could work. It's only a matter of solving the issue of getting people to go along with the plan, and then they could repeal it!"

Severus furrowed his brows as he read her outline. It wasn't a bad idea. There were problems, of course...but overall, it was a better solution than the one currently in use. After reading her notes, and many footnotes indicating a need for further research, he looked back to her and said, "It's not a bad start. In fact, with some adjustments and the proper presentation, I think it would work. Let's go see the headmaster, he would want to see this and get the Order to work on it," he said, and then looked her up and down with an expression of distaste. "You are going to change before we go?"

Hermione realized she wasn't really presentable, though she didn't think that excused his rude comment. But she went back to pull out some better clothing and brushed her hair, hearing him mutter something about 'atrocious Muggle clothing' on her way. She decided he was going to have to get used to 'atrocious Muggle clothing'...she wasn't about to start dressing formally when she wanted to relax, just to cater to his idea of aesthetics.

Once in the corridors on the way to the Headmaster's office, Severus said, "You do realize, even if the marriage law is rescinded, those who have already been married will have to remain so."

"Yes, I'm not doing this for me. Well, not directly anyway. It's wrong to force people to get married and to practically force them to procreate. It's just as wrong as condemning your descendants to genetic disease through inbreeding. Just because I can't get out of this law, doesn't mean I'm not going to do what I can to make sure others aren't subjected to it when there is a viable alternative to this problem."

"Ahh yes, Gryffindor nobility..." Snape muttered.

"Oh, do stop it with the Gryffindor insults," Hermione snapped, as they approached the gargoyle to the Headmaster's office. She went up the stairs first, and so missed Severus's amused smirk in her direction.