Applying Arithmancy

Hermione was back to class. It was Thursday. It was hard to believe that only two days ago she had found out she had to marry someone, and yesterday when her only two safe choices were presented to her. Her meeting with Snape had been strange. She kept half her mind on her lesson, transfiguring objects and animals as instructed. From time to time she was aware of Professor McGonagall casting her worried glances. She could have stayed away from class today as well, but she wanted to get back to her routine. Sitting and just thinking for another day would have driven her insane with worry; having something to do helped somewhat.

The shocking revelations in her interview (if that's what it could be called) with Professor Snape had resulted in the strangest erotic dreams she had ever had. She knew some couples engaged in a few kinks from time to time...her former roommate, Lavender, had once told her about being tied with silk cords and lashed lightly with a tassel end of one of the cords. It sounded like something a bit silly, but perhaps fun.

However, the pictures in Professor Snape's book showed no silken tassels, she hardly thought it would be something to giggle about afterwards as Lavender had about her experience. It looked more like something that would require the use of healing salves afterwards. She still wondered if he were just trying to scare her away, but the way he had roughly grabbed her hair, and the memory of the feeling of his fingers on her throat, of growing light-headed through lack of oxygen to the brain was a disturbing feeling. Even more disturbing was the fact that she had left his office aroused. When she checked her throat in the mirror of her bathroom after the meeting she had been surprised to find no marks. Surely, the kind of pressure which could cause that reaction would have to leave bruises. But, there were none.

Class was dismissed and she packed her books into her bag.

"Miss Granger, would you stay behind please," Professor McGonagall said.

Hermione hung back as the students filed out of the class on their way to the Great Hall for lunch. She knew Professor McGonagall would have something to say about her impending engagement. And sure enough, after the last student left the room, she spoke. "Miss Granger, Headmaster Dumbledore tells me you met with Mr. Shacklebolt and Professor Snape yesterday. Have you made a decision?"

"I haven't decided yet...I think I need to talk with both of them more first."

"You know, Mr. Shacklebolt was a student of mine here. He was quite a nice young man then, I know it's a hard choice to have to make so quickly, but, considering the circumstances I think you would do quite well with him," she said sincerely.

Hermione nodded and answered, "Yes, he seems very nice. But, it's a big and sudden choice...I have another week to decide, and I want to make sure I consider everything thoroughly before I do."

"Yes, that is a good idea," she replied, but Hermione could tell she had also decided who was the correct choice. "Well, you had best get to lunch," she prompted gently. Hermione left to get to lunch, still wondering what to do. Harry had waited for her outside the classroom.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

"Oh, Professor McGonagall asked if I'd made a decision yet," she replied, rather dreading the upcoming lecture about who she should marry. Sure enough, it came.

"Hermione, I'm not sure what you think you're doing here...this is serious! Come on, we're talking about Snape...you know, mean, greasy bastard Snape. You'd have to sleep with him. Gods, I don't think I can deal with the thought of that," he exclaimed, and shuddered in disgust.

"And why is it such a big issue to you who I'm going to be sleeping with?" she demanded.

"Aw come on Hermione...I just want you to be happy. I know you don't know Kingsley very well; which is why I've been telling you all about him. Anyway," he said a little shyly, "I hear most girls think he's really hot anyway..." he trailed off, grinning at her.

"Harry, this is not a decision to be made based on who's got the hot body...but...you've heard correctly." She smiled back at him, blushing slightly. There were so many things to think about here...a list would certainly be of help here. "Anyway Harry, let's stop by and see Ron before lunch...he was asleep last time I visited him."

"Yeah, good idea...um...do you want to tell him? He's really worried about what you're going to do."

"I suppose I should..." she agreed.

Ron was awake when they entered the infirmary, and she was somewhat surprised to see Kingsley there, sitting in a chair by his bed. They were having an animated conversation, though she could tell Ron looked tired. He saw them as they walked over to his bed and his face lit up.

"Harry, Hermione! I'm glad you're here!" he said.

Kingsley nodded to them and smiled. "Hermione," he said, "I was hoping that I would see you again today."

"Hi Kingsley," she replied. "Yes, me too," she said, forcing a smile.

Harry and Hermione took a seat in the empty bed next to Ron, opposite Shacklebolt. "So, are you feeling better Ron?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm still tired, and the pain-killing potions make me feel a little off. They tell me I should be out of here by Monday, but I think it could be sooner," he replied. He looked worried, and asked Hermione, "Professor Dumbledore said he had a plan for you...so you wouldn't have to marry one of the Death Eaters who wants you...I'm sorry I can't anymore. What's the plan anyway?"

"Well," she said, shifting uncomfortably, "He has the plan that I can choose between Kingsley and Professor Snape."

Ron's eyes got big and he looked over to the other side of the bed at Kingsley, then back at Hermione. "Well, at least you have one good option there." He grew quiet for a moment, and then looked back at Kingsley. "I know you'll take good care of her." Hermione thought he didn't sound the least bit disappointed that he wouldn't be the one marrying her. But, of course, his offer had been an act of friendship. They had dated in the past, and soon realized that it would never work out between them.

It was Shacklebolt's turn to shift uncomfortably now. "Yes, Ron...but she does still have another choice and we shouldn't pressure her into making a decision." Hermione was glad that at least one person realized that she had another choice. She wondered if he thought marrying her would just be a favor to Professor Dumbledore though. He hardly knew her, though she figured he would have heard about her from Harry and Ron.

"Anyway," Harry interjected, "She's got another week to choose now, so...well, it'll be ok Ron."

After saying their goodbyes Harry and Hermione left for lunch. Kingsley had asked to meet with her afterwards...she had two free periods after History of Magic in which to go over some more things with him.

*****

Professor Snape took a seat at the Head Table. He had considered skipping lunch, but he was curious as to what Miss Granger would do when she saw him. It had been his intention to scare her away last night, but apparently the girl didn't scare that easily. In his attempt to drive her away, he had nearly been caught up in the excitement of watching her as she watched the moving picture in the book. He hadn't planned on touching her, and he wouldn't have dared to dream that her reaction to his touch would be arousal. Yes, there was fear too; but he was sure she had been aroused when she left his quarters.

There was a good reason he always thought of his students as children. Even those who were of age and those who had graduated and moved on remained children in his mind. It was a line he could not cross, and had it not been for the Marriage Law, and Dumbledore's ridiculous suggestion, he never would have considered Miss Granger to be anything other than a know-it-all child. But now, the line had been crossed. He now saw a young woman...an adult who was faced with a decision she shouldn't have to make; and he found himself hoping that she might choose him.

He had to wonder how that would go. A wizard marriage would mean for life. He supposed they would spend most of their time apart. But, if he was going to make the sacrifice to marry her, and share his personal space, he would certainly get something in return. Her body bent to his will would be adequate payment. She would enjoy it though...Slytherin's weren't considered the masters of manipulation for nothing. It was one thing to get something you wanted out of someone, but to do it and have them enjoy it and come back for more was an art form.

He saw her enter the great hall and watched as she found a seat with Potter; Weasley was still in the infirmary recovering from Lucius Malfoy's attack. She looked distracted, but that was no surprise; she had quite a lot to think about. As she sat, she glanced up to the head table and caught his gaze. She froze and blushed, then looked down and studied her plate as if it were an intricate puzzle. But, after only a moment she looked back up to him and returned his stare, a defiant expression on her face. He smirked at her and lifted his glass in salute before turning his attention to his food. Her unexpected reaction was auspicious for his plans.

He felt sure that he would be hearing from her soon.

*****

Hermione ate her lunch quickly, wanting to avoid any more looks from Professor Snape. History of Magic was dull as always, and since she had already read the section they were on, she pulled a blank parchment from her bag and began listing everything she knew about Professor Snape and Kingsley Shacklebolt. This would be the most logical way to go about it.

This wasn't just a list of pros and cons, however. She began to work out an arithmantic calculation based on all the information she had, assigning numerals and symbols to each factor. She had used Arithmancy extensively to help calculate what the Order should do next during the months leading up to the final battle. Many a late night had been spent with Professor Vector bent over parchments, scratching out complex calculations. She had resented being cooped up while Ron and Harry were out helping with the missions, but that was where she was most useful. By the time class ended, she had the start of the calculation. She hoped by this evening she would have the information to plug into the equation, and then her decision would be made.

She would meet with Kingsley Shacklebolt in one of the sitting rooms near Gryffindor tower for tea. Once that meeting was done with, she would go see Professor Snape after his last class and by then she was sure that she would have the information to complete the equation.

*****

Snape was unsurprised when later that day as he was grading homework assignments handed in from his last class he heard a knock on the classroom door.

"Enter," he called out. The door opened and Hermione Granger stepped inside.

"Miss Granger, am I safe in assuming that you are not here regarding a potions assignment?" He spoke in his usual, terse classroom tone. He continued to grade the papers; knowing that his lack of visual acknowledgment would cause her more discomfort.

"No, I'm not here about a potions assignment. I was hoping to talk to you a little more about the terms of the Marriage Law," she said tentatively.

"You were? And what would you like to know?" He could sense her shifting uncomfortably; he still did not look up from the papers.

"Well...a few things really," she said nervously.

He made a show of placing his quill down and looking up at her, fixing her with a glare. "What?" he snarled.

Hermione steeled herself, forging ahead with her query. "Well, basically, according to the law the muggleborn wife has no rights...not to a job, or even her own bank account. She can only get those things with specific written permission from her husband. So...I just wanted to ask what you thought about that."

"Very well, Miss Granger, come with me and we will talk again." He stood and strode quickly for his rooms, leaving her to scramble to catch up with him. "Sit," he ordered when they entered his living room. He could see she resented being told what to do, but she sat anyway.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked conversationally as he turned to pour his own drink.

"Um...no, I don't think that would be a good idea, Professor," she answered.

"Very well then...tea?" he asked. Apparently, she thought better than to become intoxicated in his presence again...too bad really.

"Um...yes, tea would be nice."

He flooed the kitchens and ordered tea service; it appeared on the coffee table in a moment, by which time he was seated and studying her. She looked decidedly uncomfortable; which was exactly how he wanted her to be. If she did choose him, he wanted for there to be no misunderstandings about who he was and what he would be like.

"So, you would like to know if I would allow you to have a bank account and a job," he reiterated.

"Yes," she replied, and pulled out a quill and parchment. He scowled at this, but decided to ignore it for the time being.

"Not only would I permit you to have a job, I would encourage it. I think you should like to have money with which to buy things?" he asked, with a raised eyebrow. Yes, that was another point out of the way...he would not be expected to give her an allowance. He was sure Shacklebolt would have offered her a stipend of some sort. "However, there could be some difficulties due to the fact that you need to remain out of the reach of Malfoy. For your own safety, you would not be able to leave Hogwarts without my company for as long as danger exists from that quarter. I imagine that the headmaster would see fit to employ you as a teacher's assistant or within some other capacity in the school. And as for a bank account, yes, I would gladly allow that."

"Oh...I see," she answered, and wrote a few things on the parchment. "Yes, okay." She took a sip of tea and chewed her lower lip, trying to work up what to say next. "And what if we had a child...would the child be my financial responsibility?"

"If we had a child...and I remind you that I would not want a child until I retire from teaching...I would bear the financial responsibility for my heir," he answered truthfully. He couldn't help but be impressed, if only slightly, with her determination to carefully weigh her options. He watched as she processed the information, clearly she was considering him. He knew, due to her admission yesterday that the main issue would likely be about children. She clearly did not want a large brood. He assumed she was weighing the positive aspect of his comparable opinion on children with his previous warning of what would be expected of her sexually. "Is there anything else, Miss Granger?" he asked, purposely disrupting her contemplation.

"How long do you think you will keep teaching?" she pried further as she scratched once more upon the parchment.

"I had planned to retire within five years. After that, I plan on doing my own potions research. I suppose next you will ask where I would live."

"Yes...actually that was my next question," she answered, quill poised to write.

"I haven't yet decided," he stated.

"Oh...ok." She frowned and looked down at her parchment again.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing Miss Granger?" he asked. Instead of waiting for an answer though, he strode to where she was seated and snatched the parchment from her lap.

"Professor Snape, that's mine," Hermione protested.

He ignored her, and walked away studying the equations. "I see...allowing arithmancy to make your decision for you then?"

"Professor Snape, since I have only two options I have to make the best decision I can based on whatever information I can find. I am doing my best to be practical."

"I see," he said, studying her work. It was impressive, though obviously incomplete. He was surprised when he saw her calculation regarding her potential future with Shacklebolt. "I see here Mr. Shacklebolt would not allow you to have a job? That is surprising..." he said and turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow, inviting explanation.

She took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. "It's not that he wouldn't allow it exactly...he avoided directly answering the question and told me he made enough money that I wouldn't have to work. He seemed to think I would prefer to not work and just to have him give me spending money. Of course, between all the babies I would be popping out there wouldn't be much time for work." She crossed her arms and glared at him. "Will you please give my parchment back now, sir?" she asked with forced politeness.

"Your calculations appear to be lacking quite a bit of relevant information, Miss Granger," he informed her, ignoring her demand as he walked to his desk and placed the parchment down. He sat and began revising her equations.

"Professor, please! What are you doing?" Hermione stood and stalked over to his desk.

"Correcting your work," he answered casually and continued. "I suggest you pay attention, Miss Granger. While your skills at arithmancy are notable, you have made a very common error. Calculations of a personal nature such as this need more information than what you have included to be complete. This is quite a different kind of work than what you were doing for the Order. You have ignored several important factors," he explained in his classroom lecture tone. He made several more marks as she waited impatiently, added a few side equations, and then handed the parchment back to her.

Hermione looked over his revisions. The outcome was not significantly different. Before his revisions he had been the most promising choice by a little bit...now he was clearly the better choice by a somewhat greater margin. "How do I know you didn't just add this in for your own benefit?" she asked skeptically.

"Check it over, Miss Granger. You will see that I am correct." He leaned back in his chair and watched as she scanned the parchment. "You will also see that I have left a few blanks for you to fill in regarding information I don't know. When you calculate this revised equation you will have a much more accurate answer."

She looked quizzically at him, then back to the equations. "I hadn't planned on including emotional factors," she said quietly. "And besides, why would you even care about my state of mind?"

"Pure self interest, Miss Granger. If you do decide that I am the one to marry, and considering your equations it appears that will be the case, then it directly affects my future as well. Marriage to a miserable bride would be tedious for me. Therefore, it behooves me to assist you in making the correct decision."

"Oh...um, well ok then...and what about this?" she asked, turning the parchment and indicating the arithmantic symbol for the unknown. She could see that it added some instability to the projection of her future satisfaction and happiness. Still, she could see that even with the worst possible variable in its place her future looked much better than with even the best of the possibilities with Kingsley.

"That is one factor which will remain unknown until after the wedding. You can experiment with various factors, but it would be directly related to your reaction to our...marital relations," he said with a smirk. He stood and walked around his desk to stand near Hermione, who was double checking the equation. "Unless," he said in a low voice, "unless you want to have a more accurate result for your equation by filling in the unknown variable."

She jumped away from him, staring with wide eyes. He laughed at her.

"Oh come now Miss Granger, don't be frightened," he purred. "It was only a suggestion. You have a week in which to make your choice. My offer stands until you make your decision. Otherwise, you can wait until the wedding night. In the meantime..." he said, walking over to the bookshelf, "look through the book more thoroughly." He pulled the book he had showed her the previous night from the shelf. "If you choose me, I want you to be prepared," he said as he held the book out for her to take.

She stood with her arms by her sides, not wanting to reach out and take the book from him. Finally, she reached out and accepted it. She considered the book carefully, and then looked back to her Professor, wondering if he could still just be trying to scare her. As if he had read her thoughts, he said: "No, I am not bluffing. I will admit that it was my aim at first to scare you away with nothing more than the simple truth. However, I have thought more on it. If you are willing to put your typical efforts of studying into learning the arts of coitus, I believe that a marriage between us could be satisfactory.

"In fact," he continued, now with a more thoughtful smirk, "if you prefer to look at this whole thing as yet another subject to learn, and our encounters as tests, you would probably do quite well." He was satisfied to see a deep blush spread up her face, even her ears turned bright red. She began to breathe deeply, and he wasn't sure if was from anger or embarrassment or both. "Yes, I think that is what I will do. I know how much you love tests...wouldn't you like to try for the best possible grade on the practical exam?" He was really enjoying this and was having a difficult time maintaining his typical smug expression; he felt nearly ready to burst out in laughter.

Her nostrils flared as she got even redder. 'Oh, definitely angry,' he thought. She began to shake and looked about ready to explode.

"How could you do this?" she finally shouted. "I'm about to be forced into marriage and you're gloating about how you're going to use my body like I'm some kind of whore! Not only that, the things you want to do to me are just plain abusive and sick!" She threw his book on the desk, causing several stacks of paper to fly off as the book skidded across the smooth surface.

"Miss Granger, calm yourself!" Snape growled.

"No! I'm not going to be calm...I'm tired of always being calm. I will not be treated like this! I am not some kind of whore!" she shouted at him and stamped her foot. His reaction was swift...fast as lightning; he reached out and grabbed her by both upper arms, twisted her around and clasped her wrists together at the small of her back in one hand. His other hand grabbed a handful of her hair and in three strides he had dragged her across the room to where the coffee table was. He placed one foot securely on the table, and thrust her forward across his thigh. It was at her waist level and she toppled over and hung there struggling, unable to find purchase with her feet. He still held her wrists firmly behind her back.

"Let me go! Stop!" she screamed at him, sounding a little scared.

He responded with five quick swats to her upturned bottom.

"Ow! No! You can't hit me...let me go!"

His response was another five swats, this time harder. "Miss Granger, I will let you go when you cease this tantrum."

"Unhand me you greasy pervert!" She screamed and accentuated her words by flailing her legs, trying to kick or unbalance him.

This time it wasn't just five swats. He didn't bother counting; he kept up his assault with his open hand on her denim covered bottom until she stopped struggling and he heard muffled whimpers of pain with each stroke. He stopped and allowed her to simply hang across his thigh as she caught her breath which hitched slightly. When she didn't struggle for a good half-minute he asked, "Are you quite done with your tantrum, Miss Granger?"

He waited for an answer. When none came he gave her three hard swats. "When I ask you a question I expect an answer. Are you quite done with your tantrum?"

"Yes," she said quietly.

"Yes what?"

Another pause...he raised his hand to deliver another blow when her heard her sob; "Yes, sir."

"Good," he replied and set her on her feet. He led her to the couch and nudged her to sit. He saw the unshed tears in her eyes, and noted the rough breathing she was doing her best to still. She glared at him in disbelief and anger. Her current acquiescence was from sheer shock of being turned over his knee and spanked. He hadn't had to use this method to deal with a woman throwing a tantrum in years, but it certainly hadn't lost its effectiveness.

He stood over her in front of the couch, leaning over and placing one hand on the arm of the couch next to her. "Now, there are a few things I am going to make clear to you. I will not be shouted at, and I will not have my possessions thrown," he said in a threatening tone. "I am not treating you like a whore. No," he said and raised a hand as she opened her mouth to protest, "You will hear me out," he told her in a tone which brooked no argument.

"I admit that some might find my preferences to be...perverted. However, they are my preferences and I make no excuses for what I want. If you do choose me, we will both be required to do things we may not like if we are to have a satisfactory marriage. I will be sharing my personal space with you and giving up a level of privacy I have grown accustomed to. I will allow you to pursue studies and a career when it is safe to do so to whatever level you desire. I will not interfere with your relationships with your friends or family even though it means I will have to accompany you on visits to your family while there is still danger, and if you wanted to entertain your friends or family in my home once we left Hogwarts I would even allow that, within reason. I will leave the decision of when to have a child up to you, aside from the stipulation that it be after I no longer teach at Hogwarts. I will make sure you have a consistent supply of contraceptive potion for as long as you like. And most importantly, I will protect you from those who seek to harm you.

"In return, you will respect my wishes. Expecting cooperation from a wife in the physical pleasures of marriage is not unreasonable, nor is it treating you as a whore." He saw a tear slip from one eye and down her cheek. Snape continued, unrelenting, "I may push you to your limits, but never beyond what you are actually capable of. I may cause you pain at times, but I will not actually harm you. I also would demand to be treated with respect. I will not suffer tantrums. If I really wanted to be perverted and cruel I would allow you to enter into a lifetime marriage with me with none of these facts known; you should be grateful that I am informing you beforehand." He fell silent, finished with his speech and waited for a reaction from Hermione.

She sighed deeply and looked up at the stone ceiling of his dungeon living room, trying to avoid his piercing glare and keep more tears from overflowing. "And would you spank me every time we disagree about something?" She tried her best, but couldn't stop her voice from cracking slightly.

"If you revert to the behavior of a three-year-old like you just did, then yes, I would," he said icily. "If we had a disagreement I would expect you to present your case through logical discourse. I may then consider what you have to say before I make my decision." He moved to sit beside her on the couch, abandoning his former looming presence.

She gradually calmed her breathing as she looked up at the ceiling. He watched her jaw work, grinding her back teeth and then relaxing as she pulled her lower lip between her teeth to chew on it. "So then...what about all those pictures? There was quite a bit of spanking going on there."

"That is sexual play and has nothing to do with a disagreement about leaving your socks in the living room," he replied dryly. "Speaking of which, I absolutely will not tolerate socks left in the floor." While his voice was venom, he knew the absurd subject change would jilt her enough to pull her from her self-pity.

She chuckled and found she had a small smile at the thought of disagreements over leaving socks in the living room. It was just so...domestic. She thought back to a story her mother had told her about her dad's socks. When they first got married, he would leave his socks out in various places around the house. At his desk, by the couch, under the kitchen table, even on the stairs. Her mother started out picking them up and depositing them in the hamper for him, occasionally giving him a gentle reminder about where the socks go. He persisted in leaving his socks out all over the place, and after about a year of picking up socks she'd had enough. She started throwing them away instead. Within two weeks he had no more socks. Finally, he asked what happened to all her socks and she told him. He quit leaving his socks out after that.

"Would you care to fill me in on what is so funny?"

"Oh...it's just that an argument over leaving socks out sounds terribly domestic," she explained. "Also...what's that about entertaining friends 'within reason'?"

"By 'within reason' I mean I would not want fifteen Gryffindors having a class reunion for a week in my home." He relaxed somewhat. The turn of the conversation was a good sign.

"Oh...well, that's reasonable," she agreed.

"Now, are there any more questions?"

"No, I guess not."

"In that case," he said as he stood and walked to his desk, "I want you to look through this book. Return it when you are finished, and if you choose me I expect you to be prepared for what is to come." She stood and gathered her arithmancy calculations on her possible futures, and took the book from his hands. He led her to the door in silence. As he held the door open for her, she glanced up at him. He wore his usual stern face, unreadable and frightening...but there was something else there, a glint in his eyes...something that looked almost like excitement.

As she walked down the corridors and up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower she could still feel the tingling and burning on her bum from the spanking. It had been totally unexpected. She had felt mortified, hanging there across his thigh, helpless and vulnerable. It hadn't been incredibly painful...yes, it stung...but it was more the shock than anything else. What she found strange was that she wasn't angry about it. She had felt oddly at ease afterwards, as if all the tensions over the decision had left her. He had been stern with her, and she couldn't imagine anyone would call him nice after the speech about what he was doing for her and what he expected in return. But, he had been surprisingly helpful. And, she supposed he was being truthful. That was more than she could say about Shacklebolt who had uncomfortably skirted several questions of hers.

The Common Room was empty when she arrived. She looked at the clock and realized it was dinner time, but she didn't really feel up to dinner in the great hall. She went to her room and flooed for supper to be sent up to her and settled down to look over the calculations. Professor Snape's revisions added a depth to the equations which was previously missing. She had wondered at first if he had fixed it to show the result he wanted, but as she checked it over she could see he had been correct. In her attempt to make a completely rational, logical choice based only on the facts she had left out how she would feel and how those feelings would affect the outcome.

She hardly tasted her food as she ate. She was busy filling in the blanks of the equations, watching as each finished segment reordered itself to fit into the web of fate...her potential future. She compared the two separate equations. Kingsley was a nice guy, but was certainly not a good match for her. The potential outcome with him ranged from subdued indifference with their large family...so many problems to deal with, to downright misery. Noises from the common room didn't distract her from her concentration, though she did hope Harry wouldn't choose this time to come pounding on her door.

The potential with Professor Snape was much different. At worst it was satisfied acquiescence...the lines regarding her potential career satisfaction were very promising...and at best, well, it looked like the best chance for true happiness. She wasn't one to put much stock in divination...but arithmancy was different...there may always be an unknown factor, or a random variable which would change things but it was closer to science than mysticism.

She set the parchment on her side table and pulled out the book. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she opened it. Yes, it was shocking. At each turn of the page she learned more, and wondered exactly how much of this Professor Snape would do. And would she think of him as 'Professor Snape' for much longer? Her room grew dark and she lit a candle after a while to see. The noises from the common room gradually faded; likely everyone was headed to bed.

She was studying a particularly interesting picture...it was herself and Professor Snape again. He must have re-charmed the book, because now all the pictures moved. She wondered how accurate the book picture was. It appeared to be accurate judging on the portrayal of her body. In most of the pictures he was clad in his full black regalia. However, in this one he was nude. His body wasn't bad...he was thin, yes...but his muscles were well defined. As to other regions...she was watching the picture of herself orally pleasuring the picture of Professor Snape. Her breathing quickened at the image...she wasn't tied up in this one, but was on her hands and knees in a richly draped bed, he was upright and on his knees. His hand was twisted firmly in her hair and he was nudging her to move. It wasn't forceful though.

She watched as he nudged her to take his cock all the way...she was having difficulty doing so, appearing to gag slightly at the length nudging the back of her throat. His other hand reached down to massage her throat...she could see his lips moving, giving instruction probably, and she watched as slowly, she took his cock down all the way into her throat. Could she do that? He was large; obviously he would have to go deep into her throat. The picture of herself pulled back and took in a deep breath and tried again. She smiled and wondered if he had been serious about assignments on "the art of coitus" as he had put it. At the time it had enraged her, leading to her totally out of character tantrum. He had chosen his words carefully, and the result had been pure rage. She wondered if he did that on purpose to have an excuse to spank her...she would certainly have to be more careful with him to know when he was trying to goad her into reaction.

The picture changed to a closer image, showing much more detail of what was going on. Picture-Hermione changed techniques...no longer working on deep-throat, she now pulled out to the tip of his cock, pulling the foreskin back and forth with one hand and taking just the head into her mouth then pulling the foreskin forward and running her tongue between the glans and the fold of skin over it.

How much of this would he expect of her on their wedding night? She took in a deep breath, recognizing that she had come to a decision. She closed the book and went to her desk where the marriage proposals were waiting. Kingsley hadn't submitted one yet, he was waiting for her to accept first. She picked out Professor Snape's contract and looked at it for several minutes. Finally, she inked her quill and signed. It rolled up and disappeared with a little pop. She sat back after it was gone, feeling nervous and satisfied at once. It was all going to work out. At that moment, she didn't care what Harry or Ron or Professor McGonagall or even her parents would say. It was her choice, and it was made.