Conversations

Severus packed up the last of the potions phials in the padded stand, then placed it in a box which was charmed to prevent breakage. Walking back into the living room, he placed it on his desk. He looked towards Hermione's room and decided to check on her. When he entered he discovered she wasn't in there, and the bed was empty. The sound of a flushing toilet from the bathroom explained that, though. Hermione emerged from the bathroom, already dressed, and her hair pulled back in a loose bun.

"Thanks for letting me sleep in," she said stiffly.

Just as he was about to reply, he heard a knock on his door and went to answer it. He opened it; Treva Bulstrode stood there. "Madam Bulstrode, I have the package ready. One moment," he said stiffly. He didn't want to invite her in, but when he reached his desk, and started to pick up the package, he heard Hermione.

"Treva...what are you doing here? Come on in."

"Hi Hermione...are you okay? I heard about what happened. Professor Snape said he had something you wouldn't be able to bring today and that I should come to gather it."

"Oh...I'm fine, I'll be there."

Severus turned, facing Hermione. "You have a concussion; you most certainly are not going anywhere today."

He saw Treva purse her lips together, almost hiding the smile that threatened to come across her face. He turned to address her. "Hermione will be unable to attend today, she should not move around too much in her present condition." He then turned to Hermione, giving her a stern look.

She clenched her jaws angrily. "I feel fine," she said.

"Do you then? Very well, the potions you need are in this box; I'm sure the two of you will want to discuss preparations for whatever it is you're doing today." He stood by the desk, not moving to give her the box. With a huff, Hermione crossed the room, picking the box up off the desk. She managed to get halfway across the room before her steps faltered.

Treva stepped forward to take the box from her as Severus grabbed her by an arm to support her. "Yes, you're perfectly fine," he said sarcastically.

"Hermione, really, it will be fine. You should rest. I can take care of things today," Treva assured her.

There was a knock on the open doorframe and the three looked towards the door to see Albus Dumbledore. "Good morning," he greeted. "Since the two of you didn't come to breakfast, the morning post owls left your mail with me and I thought I should come down and see how you were doing, Hermione."

"Fine," Hermione answered, pulling her arm slightly. Severus let her go and took the proffered scroll from the Headmaster, frowning at the Ministry seal on it. Hermione also took hers, and decided, wisely, to go have a seat on the couch to read it.

"Thank you, Headmaster. All is well," Severus said. He then looked down at the scroll, crossing to his desk, as the Headmaster greeted Treva, asking her how she was doing. He opened the scroll and had to resist the sudden urge to rip it to shreds at what he saw.

Greetings from the Ministry of Magic, Department of the Muggle-born Marriage Act, copulation enforcement division.

It has come to our attention through the monitoring spell on your marital binding that you have failed to perform to the weekly coitus requirements. We wish to remind you that under the terms of the law, weekly coitus is required, though we do encourage more frequency. As this is your first offence, a fine of ten galleons will be imposed. Further failure to adhere to the law will result in further fines and possible action taken to ensure compliance. Remember, the Wizarding world is counting on you to do your part to provide a healthy future!"

"Oh, hello, Madam Pomfrey." The Headmaster's greeting caused Severus to snap his head up, and he saw the Matron standing in the doorframe, which was still opened.

"Good morning, Headmaster, oh...and I see the two of you have a guest, Professor Snape." Pomfrey looked around the room curiously and then to Hermione, who had taken a seat on the couch and was just about to open her scroll. "What is she doing out of bed? I released her from the hospital wing yesterday only because I thought you would take care of her," she said accusingly.

"Madam Pomfrey..." Severus began, but they were interrupted by another knock on the doorjamb. Severus repressed a snarl as he saw Minerva McGonagall in the doorway. She looked around at the gathered people and then, apparently deciding his abode was a social gathering place, stepped inside.

"Oh, I had hoped you were awake, Madam Snape," she said, crossing the room to the sitting area. "I wanted to see how you're doing.

Severus returned his attention to the Matron. "I am perfectly capable of making sure my wife is properly taken care of. Now, if you would excuse us..."

Another knock came at the door, and he saw Potter's head peeking in. He looked around, then spotted Hermione. "Hermione?"

"Oh, Harry, hi."

"Um, a few of us wanted to come by and see how you were doing. We got something for you, too," he added, smiling.

"Come in," she invited. Severus gritted his teeth and shot her a glare, and was astonished to see that she actually was smiling at him tightly, an amused, yet challenging gleam in her eyes. He looked back to the doorway and Potter, Weasley, Longbottom of all people...Ginevra Weasley, and Creevey all entered. Creevey was carrying a package wrapped in bright, shiny red wrapping paper with a huge gold bow on top. They hurried over to where Hermione was sitting, the blond Gryffindor casting him wary glances.

"Here, Hermione, all the Gryffindors pitched in for this!" Creevey said brightly. Minerva was looking on the display proudly. He closed his eyes momentarily as the sound of tearing wrapping paper filled the room.

Hermione chatted amiably with her friends and Head of House; Headmaster Dumbledore and Treva Bulstrode were now in an involved conversation near Hermione's door...which he was glad now she had closed when she came out. The fact that she had a bed in her room wasn't something he wanted to be widely known. Pomfrey was now asking Hermione about any symptoms, as Hermione tried to assure the older witch that she felt fine. He noticed the scroll from the Ministry was unopened and sitting on the couch beside her. At least she hadn't seen that yet, and he hoped she would refrain from opening it for the moment.

And then, there was another knock on the doorframe. He crumpled the paper from the Ministry and threw it on his desk, stalking to the doorway.

"What?" he spat. "Oh, it's you. Well, what news, Shacklebolt?"

"May I come in?" he asked, peering over Severus's shoulder and seeing the crowded room.

"We can speak in the corridor. There will be more privacy there," he explained sardonically. He would finish whatever business there would be with Shacklebolt and then get everyone out of his quarters. He was a bit shaken, actually...before Hermione had come into his life, the only person to step foot into his quarters had been Albus Dumbledore, and even then that was only on a few occasions.

They moved out into the corridor. "Well," Shacklebolt began, "he's being held, and there is a hearing scheduled for February 20th. At this time, the statements we've gathered are good, but for the hearing it would strengthen the case to have a Pensieve memory of the event from Hermione."

"Very well, I will inform her," he said, nodding. "Is there anything else?"

"Malfoy is attempting to press charges against you for assault...but I don't think there will be much trouble there."

"I should think not...I was defending my wife from him."

"That's how we think they'll see it, so like I said, it shouldn't be a problem."

"Contact me if there is any further business to deal with then," he said. He was already wondering if it would be worth it to prosecute Malfoy. It had been a minor attack in the scheme of things...it could have been worse, but they wouldn't be likely to put him away for a long time, if at all. A well placed poison would certainly put him out of the picture permanently...he wouldn't ever touch Hermione again if he were dead.

He turned to re-enter his quarters, but Shacklebolt called out, "Snape...wait."

"Yes?"

"I was wondering...how are things with you and Hermione?"

Snape frowned at Shacklebolt, rather put out by the question. "I don't see what concern that is of yours."

"No offence meant, you know. It's just...well, I was concerned for her. Harry always talked about her a lot, and I didn't really get to know her very well when the Headmaster asked if I'd be willing to marry her to keep her safe, then she picked you instead."

"Yes, she did. She is doing well."

"Well, good luck...maybe you'll have a little Snape on the way soon, eh?" he asked cheerfully, with a wink at Severus.

Severus didn't answer, deciding in this case that what he had to say would be academic, no matter how much satisfaction it might bring him, and instead turned and walked back into his crowded quarters. Ignoring everyone for the moment, he walked to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a stiff drink. What did it matter that it was only ten am? He scowled down at the crowd of Gryffindors; Creevey had decided his coffee table was a chair and was sitting on it.

"Mr. Creevey!" he barked. "If I wanted your backside to polish my table, I would assign it for you to perform for a detention."

"Y-Yes sir...sorry," he answered, snapping up to his feet.

Pomfrey had finished checking Hermione over and was now in a conversation with Minerva; they had chosen to sit in his green wingback chairs. No one sat in his chairs. Finally, he'd had enough. He slammed his empty tumbler down on the fireplace mantle with a resounding crack, and all heads turned to look at him.

"As much as I have been so longing to hold a gala in my home...my wife is recovering from a rather nasty bump, and I'm afraid the party will have to be postponed for another time. Now...if you please, I have work to do, and Hermione needs her rest." He glared in turn at everyone. Minerva looked slightly offended; Pomfrey looked surprised; the Gryffindors looked cowed, except for Potter, who glared back at him...Treva was suppressing a smile, but pointedly looked away from him; and Dumbledore was twinkling...damn him!

Slowly, with goodbyes and promises to see Hermione later, everyone filed out...everyone that is, except for Hermione's partner in her endeavour.

"Professor Snape," she said, "I don't mean to take up much more of your time, but I just wanted to ask you about something."

He stood waiting, and she motioned her head slightly to indicate she wanted to speak outside. Hermione, curious, craned her head around to look at Treva.

"Whatever it is, feel free to ask me now," he said coolly.

"Oh...I was just wondering if you had used the monthly recipe for the potion or if it was one which needed to be taken with more frequency?"

"As I said in my letter, it is the monthly variety. Is there anything else, Madam Bulstrode?"

"No...no, that's all. Thank you," she said. "I'll see you next weekend, Hermione, okay?" She smiled warmly at Hermione, then her smile stiffened slightly when she looked back to him.

When she exited, he shut the door behind her and let out a deep sigh. "That...is not an experience I wish to repeat again."

"What?" Hermione asked.

"That...invasion," he snarled.

"You call that an invasion?"

"I am not a social person, Hermione. Surely, you know this by now."

"True. It was a bit much for me, too, actually." She drew up the object she held in her lap, looking down at it awkwardly as she realised she wasn't supposed to be on speaking terms with him. He looked down at it as he walked around to stand in front of the couch.

"What is that?" he asked with disdain. It was brown and fluffy and somewhat resembled a canine.

"A gift...it has a calming charm on it. The Gryffindors all pitched in and bought it for me."

"And your condition?"

"Still a bit dizzy, and my head still hurts."

He nodded and left the living room, taking the side door leading to his private lab. He found the potion he was looking for and brought it to her. "Here...this will help."

"Thanks," she said, as she handed the empty phial back to him. "Severus..." she began uncomfortably. "Um...there was something I wanted to ask you about."

"What is that?"

"Something Malfoy said to me yesterday..." she glanced up at him, and he gave an expression of waiting. "Well...he told me...he said that he found some of his father's...erm, memories...and you..." he saw her fidget and blush, and then realised just what Malfoy might have said.

"Whatever he said, it is none of your concern," he said, cutting her off. He wondered if Malfoy Manor was currently well guarded...perhaps a trip to find and destroy some Pensieves wouldn't be amiss.

"Of course not," she said angrily, voice rising. "Nothing you do, or have done, or will do, is my concern...yet, everything about me is apparently your concern." She winced as her loud voice hurt her head. Scowling, and deciding to ignore him for the moment, she picked up the scroll and opened it. Severus watched as her eyes grew wide.

"They... idiots ... those ...invasion of my privacy...copulation...bastards!" she spat in a string of incoherence and then wadded the parchment up and hurled it into the fireplace.

"I quite agree with your sentiments," Severus murmured, as Hermione clutched her new present tightly in her lap, her fists pulling at the fur.

"We could have taken care of that last night," Hermione said angrily, glaring at him.

"You were in no condition to do so."

"The way it's been lately it's not as if it would have been any strain! I'd have laid there and you would have been finished in two seconds!" she declared. Groaning, she brought her hands up to her face, rubbing her eyes and then running her hands through her hair. "Severus...I don't want it to be like this anymore."

"If that is true, you may return to my bed if you are willing to accept my conditions." He looked down at her, arms crossed.

"And just what are those conditions?" she asked, though she didn't sound as if she cared one way or another.

"First," he began, walking to stand before her and crouching down at her level, "you will never question my authority, judgment, or truthfulness with you in regards to what you've agreed to, again. Secondly," he said, bringing one hand up to stroke her cheek...she didn't flinch away from him, but did clench her jaw, "you will be punished for your disobedience. Oh no," he said as her eyes widened, "you didn't think I was going to allow that to go unpunished, did you? Yes...you will be punished, Hermione," he repeated, leaning in closer to her. "You're going to accept it, and you're going apologise for calling me a liar."

"And what if I don't want to accept that? What if I just decide to stay in my room?" she challenged.

"Do you really want that?" he asked, bringing his fingers down her jaw, tracing down her neck and to her shoulder, and leaning in to whisper in her ear. "You want me...and you aren't satisfied with things as they are now. You won't be satisfied until you return to my bed, I assure you of that."

Hermione swallowed thickly, trying to keep her breath regular as her pulse raced. She wondered if this was how he would always be...always demanding his way, never willing to compromise...if she allowed it, then yes, it would be. "Severus, I can't do that until I have some kind of assurance from you...and until you can compromise on something, and stop trying to run my life in everything else. You're still doing it...you're still trying to tell me what to do..." she was silenced as his lips descended on hers.

She was shocked for a moment. His fingers traced small circles on the back of her neck, his other hand rested on her thigh. His lips on hers, demanding and yet careful...weren't pushing too hard, he was being careful of her and she could tell. It felt too good, and she returned his kiss, not a kiss of love or understanding but of desire and need and wanting and frustration. His tongue darted between her lips, caressing back along her tongue and, in a sudden surge of frustration, a desire to take something from him for herself, she bit down.

He didn't pull away, though...instead, he moaned into her mouth, one hand clamping down on her thigh, his fingers gripping her flesh tightly. He pulled back after a moment, eyes glimmering as he breathed heavily. He claimed her mouth again, this time Hermione tried to control the kiss, fueled by her frustration at being deprived of his attention; she slipped her tongue into his mouth, grabbing a fistful of greasy hair and, clenching her fist, pulling him against her. She knew she was pulling hard enough it might hurt him, but she had a sudden daring feeling that she didn't care, damn the consequences. He nipped lightly at her lips as he pulled back, moving his hips slightly to bring his straining erection against her knee.

"You do want me," he whispered, his breath felt hot on her cheek. "Stop fighting it."

"It's not about wanting you or not, Severus. If that's all you think it is, you just don't get it at all."

"No, I suppose I don't. But perhaps, I think one should honour their agreements."

A moment passed in which they both breathed heavily, coming down from the volatile feelings they both experienced. Hermione decided to go back to her first question.

"So what did Malfoy mean when he said you and his father used to share playthings?" she asked.

"Do you really want to know? Do you think maybe there are some things I keep from you because knowing would do nothing to help you?"

"I need to know what you might want from me...I didn't know anything when I got into all this."

"You knew just as much as you needed to know, and you learned very well along the way, as I taught you."

"Yes, just like you wanted," Hermione retorted sardonically. "I was going to be your perfect little bed slave, right?"

"You still will be, and yes, you were turning into the perfect bed slave, and you were enjoying it too," he said in a fierce whisper. "Can you deny that, Hermione? Can you? Tell me now; tell me you didn't enjoy it; tell me you didn't want it...if you didn't, who was it just a month ago, rutting on my knee and screaming as she came while I spanked her soundly? Who then screamed my name when I took her? Was that not you, Hermione? Wasn't it?"

Hermione's nostrils flared as he spoke, bringing into the light of day their last truly enjoyable encounter that last night at her parents' home. It was embarrassing to think of just how she could act with him. "Tell me," Hermione repeated firmly, "what did Malfoy mean?"

"Very well, then. Lucius and I were friends at one time. We shared similar desires in some areas and would sometimes share the objects of our desires. Lucius liked viewing some of his more enjoyable moments from time to time in a Pensieve, and I assume that Draco must have found an old Pensive of his tucked away with one of those memories. Now, does that satisfy you?"

Hermione's stomach dropped as he revealed what, to her, was very disturbing. "And would you ever want to do that to me?"

"What if I did?"

"No, absolutely not..."

"The Ministry has already seen to that with their damned spells. Don't worry, even if I wanted to, we couldn't. Unless..." he trailed off, eyebrows furrowed together for a moment before he smiled at her.

"Unless what?" she asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," he said. "But...back to the subject at hand. There is one thing I might be willing to compromise on if you will resume your place; I found I rather liked hearing you scream my name. And, while at your parents home, I discovered that you aren't generally overly tedious when you speak with me. I would be willing to allow you to speak freely most of the time."

"How magnanimous of you," Hermione replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"Do remember that. Am I not merciful?"

"Hardly." Hermione chose to ignore the rather outlandish historical reference of his words.

"Oh, Hermione...I don't think you've been in a position yet to truly understand mercy. But...while we're here, do you think you're up to taking care of our unfinished business? For now, there's nothing we can do but pay the fine; I'll take care of it."

"I would have been fine last night, and I'm fine now. As I said...it's not as if you've been much strain lately."

Severus parted her thighs and pushed her robes up, finding jeans underneath. "Damned Muggle clothes...why do you wear these things?"

"They're comfortable...and you don't like them."

"Really?" he asked, moving her robes aside. Hermione moved her stuffed dog out of the way and shrugged her robes off. "If you weren't practically an invalid, I'd spank you for your impertinence. Perhaps I will when you have a clean bill of health."

"I...am not...an invalid," Hermione insisted, as she pulled her hips up to allow him to pull her jeans and knickers down. They bunched around her ankles as she scooted forward, sitting on the edge of the couch. Severus quickly released himself from his trousers, and thrust into her. She was already thoroughly wet for him.

Hermione gasped in pleasure as he filled her but steeled herself for it to be over soon. After the sixth thrust, she looked at him; he was watching her. "I didn't take the potion this time. Thought you might want to have a reminder of what you're missing."

Thoughts of retorts left her mind as she clutched at his shoulders, allowing her head to fall forward to rest on one shoulder. His hands gripped her hips as he thrust repeatedly into her, and soon, Hermione felt herself nearing climax. Severus chuckled and changed his rhythm, slowing down until Hermione wanted to grab him and make him go faster, but she didn't. She closed her eyes, brought her head back, and just focused on enjoying it.

"Look at me," Severus commanded, and she did. His eyes glittered with lust, then he brought one hand to her neck and drew her close to kiss her. It was a long, languid kiss that matched his slow thrusts, and Hermione felt as if she could melt into it. Hurriedly, she began unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it back to expose his chest, and then ran her hands over his body. His firm, wiry muscles were tense, flexing in time with his thrusts; his nipples were stiff, and she brought her fingers up, teasing them. Severus moaned deeply, speeding up as their kiss broke.

Hermione's head fell back as she approached climax again, and she came, her knees clutching at his thighs, and her hands clenching at his back. He came soon after, supporting his weight against the couch, while supporting her by the back of her neck. Severus nipped a trail up her neck and then whispered in her ear, "I miss this, Hermione...don't you?

Moving forward and leaning on him, she whispered back, "Yes...I do, too."

"Then come back to my bed, Hermione."

"No, it can't be like that now."

"That is how it is...don't delude yourself into thinking you're going to change me. I am the man you married, and I am nothing less than what I told you. What are you afraid of?" he asked in a soft whisper.

"I'm not afraid."

"Yes...you are. But you're not afraid of me...it's something else altogether. What is that?"

Hermione pulled back to look him in the eye; they were still joined. "I'm not going to let you have your way in everything all the time, Severus. You're always telling me what to do and when to do it. I can't live like that."

"Hermione...much of that was for your protection. Now that Malfoy is gone, it won't be so necessary to look over you so closely. Your life is your own, but you gave yourself to me, and I will hold you to that. Don't think it can continue like this between us without end."

"I'll think about it," she finally said. Perhaps he was right. Maybe it was mostly because of Malfoy...he always did try to watch over her. He nodded, kissing her deeply once more before he pulled away from her, tucked himself back into his trousers, and stood.

Hermione pulled her jeans up, watching him as he went to his desk and looked down at the stack of papers there. Likely more grading to do. She wondered if maybe it would be different with Malfoy gone. She wasn't going to just take his word for it, though; he would have to prove that he wasn't going to boss her around all the time before she considered returning to his bed.

Hermione grabbed her stuffed dog, wondering what to call it, and went to her room. She realised Severus probably had been right about her not being in any condition for sex; just that bit of activity had her head throbbing again. She decided it was time for a nap.

*****

Severus stood in the threshold of the door of Hermione's darkened room. She was recovered now from her concussion, and things between them had eased in some ways, while in others the tension remained. The topic of sex had returned to something they didn't speak of. However, she had initiated conversation a few times that week on neutral subjects. It had been a bit forced, but she tried. He had done the same, only with more ease.

He silently walked to the edge of her bed, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest under the blankets. She had been angry with him when she went to bed a few hours earlier; once again, he'd taken the potion. Their weekly encounter had been all too brief, and he realised that in penalising her, he was also depriving himself. Even so, she was wearing down, soon enough she would concede to him. Apparently, she had assumed that after their encounter the previous week, he wouldn't return to leaving her frustrated. She hadn't said anything, but she didn't need words. No, the furious flare of her nostrils as she glared at him, and the way her hair swished around as she had turned and stalked to her room, nearly slamming the door, spoke volumes. He had been in his bedroom ten minutes later when he heard the shower running, and over the sound of the water, a muted gasp and a muffled moan. However, the thud of what was likely her foot or fist slamming against the wall of the shower, that followed, told him she hadn't been very successful in easing her frustrations alone.

He reached out, a forefinger tracing her eyebrows lightly. Half her face was in shadow, the only light coming from her open doorway. Fortunately, Malfoy hadn't damaged her seriously...had he, Severus was sure he would have killed the boy. He felt another surge of anger as he thought of that, how his moment of neglect had nearly cost so much. Never again, he vowed silently...never again.

If the Ministry didn't put him away permanently, he decided the Malfoy heir might meet with an unfortunate accident. Simply giving someone like him time to sit and think up their revenge was not the way to make Hermione safe. No, as Machiavelli had said: "Men ought either to be indulged or utterly destroyed, for if you merely offend them they take vengeance, but if you injure them greatly they are unable to retaliate, so that the injury done to a man ought to be such that vengeance cannot be feared." The Senior Malfoy was unable to retaliate now; the same fate for his son would be best.

His hand drifted down her neck, fingers caressing the skin of her shoulder. He resisted the temptation to pull the coverlet back; instead, he leaned forward, examining her closely. "Oh, Hermione...my stubborn, willful Hermione," he whispered to her sleeping form. "Make no mistake...you are mine. I wait only for you to recognise the fact."

He turned and left her room, unaware of Hermione's eyes snapping open and her sudden intake of breath as he pulled her door closed. He had another concern he hadn't shared with Hermione yet, and he hoped she wouldn't end up involved. Walking to his desk, he picked up the parchment he'd received the previous morning from the Board of Governors. It seemed that there had been a complaint; he wasn't sure from where, but he suspected his own Slytherins. He was facing an inquiry for conflict of interests in his duties as a professor and Head of Slytherin.

Once again, huge thanks to my beta, Nakhash Mekashefah who is delightfully meticulous.