And Life Goes On

Once more, huge thanks to my lovely beta Nakhash Mekashefah!

And, a special treat, LeDivineMarquis has drawn two lovely scenes from this chapter. URL's in the end notes.

---

When Hermione woke Saturday morning, she stretched luxuriantly in bed for a few moments. Friday had been harrowing and, even if she hadn't known it would be the day Severus had warned she'd get her punishment, she would have stayed in just to avoid everyone asking her about why Severus wasn't Head of Slytherin any longer.

It had been a difficult day for Severus, as well. In morning double Potions, at which Hermione was present, someone had released a dungbomb in his classroom. Though she'd always thought his classroom manner was too harsh before, she felt glad when he'd apprehended the culprit, Gregory Goyle, and given him three weeks detention with Filch and deducted fifteen points from Slytherin. Gryffindor hadn't escaped unscathed, losing thirty points during the course of the class. Afterwards, Parvati Patil had accused Hermione of being a House traitor for taking his side, along with a few choice allegations as to why she would take his side.

He still hadn't said anything to her about being removed as Head of Slytherin, and she didn't pry him for information, knowing that it was a touchy subject. Dumbledore had explained on Thursday evening what had happened. She couldn't believe the Board of Governors would do something like that after he'd been Head of Slytherin for so many years – even more ironic was the way he'd always favoured Slytherin over Gryffindor, and he'd never been in trouble for that. She began to wonder if something more might be going on with that...perhaps Draco already was following in his father's footsteps by supporting certain actions through bribery and threats.

She heard voices through the closed bedroom door, and so went through the bathroom to her room to get dressed...not that she thought she was likely to stay dressed, for very long anyway. Curiosity drove her to the living room where she found Severus and Professor Vector speaking at his desk.

"Morning, Professor," she said, as the Arithmancy teacher looked over to her when she entered.

"Good morning," Vector said with a tight-lipped smile. She looked tired, as if she hadn't slept much. Her usually neat hair was pulled back in a messy-looking bun.

"Hermione, I haven't called for breakfast yet, if you would please," Severus requested, glancing up from the papers he was looking over.

"Sure," she answered, moving to the fireplace to Floo to the kitchens and request their morning meal...closer to mid-morning, actually. "Will Professor Vector be staying for breakfast?" she asked, kneeling before the fireplace.

"No, I've already eaten, and I'll be leaving soon, thanks anyway. You two have taken to long lie-ins weekend mornings, haven't you?"

"Yes, we have," Severus answered. "And now that I don't have the Slytherins to attend to any longer, we might take even longer lie-ins."

Hermione heard her say in a low voice to Severus, "Should we wait to discuss these things until later?"

"No need, Hermione won't spread news through her friends."

Hermione went to sit on the couch and wait for breakfast to arrive, picking up a book on the couch side table while they spoke so as not to seem as if she was eavesdropping. She couldn't help but overhear them, as they were less than ten feet away.

"I still can't believe they did this," Vector was saying to Severus, rubbing her temples. "How on earth you managed all these years with them, Severus...I know it's just the change over, this is their time to act out and see what they can get away with. I have some idea of who's who, but not everyone takes Arithmancy...and of course I remember when I was a student, everything was completely different when a professor was around to see goings on."

"Come with me, I have something to show you which has served me well for many years, and which I'm sure you'll find educational," Severus said, standing from his desk.

Breakfast arrived as Severus and Professor Vector left. Hermione nibbled at a muffin, a bit nervous about Severus's return, but not overly so. She was also looking forward to the day. She felt better around Severus, now confident that their troubles had been cleared up, and though he'd said she would have to prove herself, she felt certain that she would be able to handle it. She'd faced real danger in the past and knew that Severus wouldn't really harm her.

About twenty minutes after they'd left, Severus returned alone, strode to where the breakfast tray sat, and helped himself to eggs and toast. Hermione watched his deft fingers as he ate, the precise movements he made, never a careless or superfluous gesture. She wondered what he might do to her later, how those fingers could so precisely measure potions, put forth his exact and small script, or drive her to intense pleasure and pain. No matter what, he always was precise and controlled.

When he finished his breakfast, he levelled his gaze towards her. Hermione met his eyes, feeling a thrill of anticipation at his intense scrutiny. "I believe there should be no further interruptions today," he said simply. Hermione understood his implication.

When he stood and walked towards the bedroom without another word, Hermione took a few deep breaths before entering her room, disrobing, and then moving to the bathroom. She'd bathed the night before, and so only took a few moments for the Fundamundic charm and to run a brush through her hair. Squaring her shoulders, she entered their bedroom.

*****

He was standing, hands clasped behind his back, in the fairly large area on the other side of the bed; the sheepskin rug had been moved and was positioned at his feet. He was dressed in his usual black boots, trousers, and a simple white shirt. One eyebrow cocked up as he looked at her, then glanced pointedly down to the rug at his feet. Hermione took his silent cue and crossed the bedroom, kneeling on the rug. She was glad that she hadn't eaten much, because her stomach was fluttering wildly.

Severus moved behind her, and she felt his knees brush her arms as he knelt down. His hands rested on her shoulders a moment, before moving upward and running his fingers through her hair. Hermione felt a bit of surprise when he began dividing her hair into sections, swiftly but neatly weaving it into a French braid, then tucking the tail of the braid up and tying it with a length of leather thong.

She felt a throbbing between her legs and chills down her spine, as he silently leaned forward and kissed her gently on the bruise he'd left Thursday night when he'd bitten her.

"And now, will you still submit?" he asked in a near whisper.

"Yes," she answered firmly.

His fingers gently traced her spine as he continued speaking in a low, almost gentle voice. "This is a bit more than a test, Hermione. Our relationship is one of rules. There may be some compromises along the way...but it is one of rules and duties, first and foremost. Do you understand that?"

"Y-yes," she answered, suddenly nervous.

"And," he continued, fingers lightly stroking her outer arms, "in a relationship such as ours, there are consequences when you break those rules. Because this is a punishment, you will not be allowed to climax until it is complete, is that understood?"

Hermione nodded, then whispered tightly: "Yes."

He stood, Hermione remained still as her heart pounded and her breathing quickened. She heard his footsteps cross the room, stopping directly behind her, and then all went dark as he lowered a blindfold over her eyes and tied it firmly around her head.

"Head and hands down," he said firmly.

Quickly, Hermione moved to comply, placing her forehead on the rug and resting her hands just above her head. She felt his hands moving over her back, then behind her and between her legs. She gasped as she felt something hard close around her clit, and again a moment later when she felt something hard at her anus. She focused on relaxing as a slick and increasingly thick object was inserted, stretching and filling her.

"Kneel back up," Severus ordered.

Hermione pushed up with her hands to the kneeling position, sitting back on her heels. The object in her arse was mildly uncomfortable, as was the clip.

"Remain where you are. You may adjust your position to retain adequate circulation in your legs. Do not, under any circumstance, touch yourself intimately."

She heard his footsteps move away, and then all was silent.

At first it was uncomfortable. But, after what she estimated to be ten minutes or more, the clamp had progressed from uncomfortable to a bit painful. The object in her arse, however, seemed to cause her lower regions to throb with need, her nipples to tighten, and she had a very strong urge to find release. She wasn't sure where Severus was...she couldn't hear anything, but didn't think he would be far.

So, if this was punishment...it didn't seem too difficult so far, but she had a feeling it was only the beginning.

*****

Severus watched her from his chair about five feet away. He'd walked away, and then cast a silencing charm on his boots to walk back and observe her. He held the nipple clamps in his hand, watching and waiting for the right time to employ their use.

He watched the set of her lips, her chin, and her hands for signs...would she break down? Thus far, she seemed to be doing well.

*****

Hermione was beginning to sweat, and the urge to touch herself and relieve the building pressure had grown to a need. Her rear entrance throbbed, and she clenched down on the plug to help. However, she found that only increased the sensations, rather than relieving them. Almost against her will, one hand crept from the outside of her thigh where it rested and began towards her crotch. She stopped herself, however, firmly putting her hands back, clenching and unclenching her fists.

Her legs felt uncomfortable, so she rose up, shifting her weight from one knee to the other a few times before settling down again. The silence became uncomfortable, stretching on and on, focusing her awareness down to only the feeling of the clamp tight on her clitoris, the plug in her arse, and the aching.

Then his hands were on her shoulders; she jumped slightly at the sudden contact and sighed, relieved in thinking he would remove the objects. When his hands slid down her chest, palms rubbing over her nipples, she arched into him. The soft contact was quickly replaced by two more clamps on her nipples. She winced at the added sensation.

"You almost earned an increase in your punishment. Be glad you didn't disobey me," he said.

So, he had been watching. She felt a little better knowing he was right there, while at the same time she was highly aware of herself, and that she couldn't fail to follow his directions now since he would more than likely be watching.

"Again, remain where you are."

And again, she did.

She had to shift her weight three more times while she waited, to relieve the pressure on her knees or ankles and to flex her toes. Always, there was the added sensation of not knowing where he was, if he was watching her closely and, if he was, from what angle. She'd changed her breathing pattern, taking in long, slow, deep breaths. Her clit and nipples had begun to burn some time ago, and at times she felt her hips begin to rock of their own volition.

Her mind drifted as she knelt, flitting between Arithmancy, her friends, Potions, the pain and discomfort, her parents, her developing relationship with Severus, the ache in her nipples, what she would do with her future...their future... Would she find a good job? Would she score well on NEWT's? ...and then back to her present... Was Severus sitting a few feet away, watching her? Or was he instead grading papers? No, she didn't think he'd be doing that now.

Severus had been right; it was difficult.

*****

Severus watched her chest rise and fall with her deep breaths; he could see the sweat on her body. Her hips would rock intermittently, but she hadn't started to touch herself again. He ran one finger along his thin lips, wondering if she would give up or break down. She seemed determined enough.

He glanced at the clock...it had been nearly forty-five minutes, and he realised to her it had undoubtedly felt like much longer. With darkness and silence her sense of time would be warped. He stood and took three strides to her, then reached between her legs and removed the clamp. She let out a shuddering sigh, then a slight whimper as the blood rushed into the tender flesh. She was so wet his fingers came away coated in her moisture. He smiled.

"Open your mouth," he ordered. Tentatively, she did, and he placed his fingers inside. "Lick them clean," he instructed. He nearly sighed as her lips closed around his fingers and she used her tongue to thoroughly remove her natural lubricant.

"Stand up, now," he prompted next, removing his fingers from her mouth.

With some difficulty from kneeling for so long, she complied. She bit her lip a moment, but then stood still, hands at her sides. He turned and retrieved the chair, which had been against the wall, then sat in it.

"Walk towards me," he said.

She turned her head towards the sound of his voice and took small, careful steps towards him. He reached out as she approached, a hand on either hip steering her to stand beside him.

"Bend over," he instructed, guiding her as she bent at the waist across his thighs. "Place your hands on the floor." He rubbed her thighs, her buttocks, and her back, pausing a moment to press against the plug in her arse, causing her to jerk her hips.

She knew what was coming and took deep breaths, preparing herself for the onslaught; it seemed odd, though, that her skin tingled in anticipation of the event.

"Tell me, Hermione," he began, caressing her curved buttocks, "are you...frightened?"

"No," she answered, her heart suddenly racing.

"Not even a little?"

"Should I be afraid, sir?" she asked, not sure how to answer his question. She was nervous...perhaps concerned...but not afraid.

He answered with a chuckle as one arm clamped firmly over her lower back, and his other hand descended. His swats were stinging, falling in a regular rhythm, alternating between her left and right cheek as he moved up and down her buttocks, barely overlapping each stroke from the last. He'd swatted her harder before.

Hermione began to jerk her hips with each stroke and soon was making muffled groans as his hand continued to fall in the unceasing, tireless rhythm. His strokes might not be as forceful as what he'd done at other times, but the continuous slaps over her buttocks soon increased from a sting to a burning warmth which spread between her legs, the pain growing to a point where tears formed in her eyes, wetting the blindfold which covered them.

Each jerk brought another surge of pain to her rear and her breasts, and soon her breath was coming in hitching gasps...and then it seemed too much and, automatically, she reached back with one hand to block his next blow, only to have it captured in his hand, giving her a moment's respite.

"I-I didn't mean to," she gasped, realising what she'd done.

"Nevertheless, you did," he said, releasing her hand. "Put your hand back down on the floor."

Hermione followed directions, but then gasped when she heard him mutter a spell. Tentatively, she flexed her hands and discovered they were stuck to the floor as she lay over his lap.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sure you are...yet, you will be sorrier for that shortly."

If his swats hurt before, Hermione thought his renewed assault on her bottom was excruciating. Some part of her mind wondered how he could keep it up with his bare hand...surely this was hurting him, too. But for the most part, the pain crowded thoughts out, and it didn't take long before she was crying out, nearly screaming with each fall of his hand.

When he finally muttered the spell to release her hands, she was lying limp over his legs; tears had soaked the blindfold, and she was gasping in deep, shuddering breaths. He lifted her partway, and she moved to stand when he told her to. Roughly, he grabbed her upper arms from behind after she'd stood and guided her to walk. She felt the rug under her bare feet again.

"Kneel."

She sank to her knees quickly, taking huge gulps of air, wincing as her heels brushed against her extremely sore bottom.

His hand moved down her shoulders, then to the object imbedded in her. "I'm sure this is quite uncomfortable," he said casually, pushing on the exposed end.

"Mm-hmm..."

"Soon enough I will remove it, but not yet."

His hands moved around her waist, then up to her breasts where he removed the clamps. She sighed in relief, but soon the throbbing only increased.

"This is not yet over," he whispered. "There is much more to come. That is...unless you're too tired to continue?" he asked in a tone which sounded understanding...concerned, to Hermione.

She drew in a deep breath, thinking how nice it would be to stop, to end the aching and burning, the stinging pain and discomfort. But, before she could give voice to that desire, she realised it was another test.

"I said I would submit...and I will," Hermione said in a low voice.

"Very well. Lay on your back, your legs should be completely straight, ankles together, and your arms straight out to your sides, palms up. Do not move."

She felt incredibly exposed in the new position. She could feel his presence as he stood over her and thought it would be easier if he used restraints – tied her hands or feet into position - so she couldn't move. But, he expected her to stay still even after she'd mistakenly reached up to stop his relentless spanking. Her body hummed with a tingling need, a tension and urge she fought to control.

*****

Severus watched her when she'd complied. Her stomach tightened with each breath; her breasts shook slightly. She looked like an offering...a succulent, willing offering. He would still test her willingness, but he enjoyed looking on her: open...vulnerable...obedient. His cock throbbed, fully erect from having her over his lap...even the intense stinging of his hand seemed to add to his overall thrill. While he could have used a paddle to spare himself, he'd wanted to feel it, too...to experience it with her in at least a small way.

He knew she was trying; she was opening herself to accept him as he was...and he felt another thrill thinking that each time he'd given her an option to back out, she'd firmly let him know she wouldn't. Even though she'd reached back to stop him at one point, she hadn't said no, so he was sure it was nothing more than an automatic reaction...not a conscious decision. Perhaps their compromise did lend some advantages after all...

He retrieved a wide pillar candle, which he had lit a while before, and then stood besides her, holding the candle over her body. "Do – not – move," he repeated firmly. He placed a finger in the wax, calculating how far it would need to fall to cool sufficiently so as not to burn her delicate skin, then tilted the candle.

He watched every muscle in Hermione's body grow taut as he poured the molten wax over her stomach. Her mouth opened as she gasped, and then closed again tightly...her fists clenched as she fought to remain still. His heart pounded as he watched the evidence of her inner battle: her quickened breathing, her repeated gasps of pain...and then her hips rocked, her legs pressing firmly together as they did so...her attempt to find sexual release in the midst of the pain was proof to him that he'd succeeded in ingraining that association firmly in her subconscious mind.

Soon, the molten wax was gone, so he put the candle aside and looked down over her, the wax now hardening over her stomach, breasts, and thighs in loopy strands and spatters from where it had splashed. Her hands began to relax, unfurling from the tightly clenched fists she'd held. She still remained relatively motionless as he watched.

After a moment, he shifted his weight and brought his foot over her throat, just barely touching her with the toe of his boot; he kept his heel on the floor. Her breathing stopped for a moment, and he waited to see if she would move, bring a hand up to protect herself, but she didn't. He clamped down on the overwhelming urge to fall onto her and take her right then and there; to kiss those parted lips.

"Most people in your position would react to someone's foot on their throat with some concern – even panic; and would quickly move to protect themselves. Why didn't you?" he asked. "I could crush your throat with one move."

"I-I...I know you wouldn't do that," she answered.

Severus took a deep breath as he removed his foot. "Stand up," he hissed.

Her hands moved to her sides and she pushed up, standing quickly.

He grabbed her by the back of her neck and steered her to the side of the bed, then spun her around so the backs of her thighs brushed against the top of the mattress. "Reach up," he directed, guiding her hands to grasp the wrought iron of the canopy frame. "Bring your feet up and put them on the bed frame," he said next. "Spread your legs wide...yes, that's it."

*****

It was an awkward position...her legs were splayed wide, feet pointed out and knees bent at a forty-five degree angle as she half stood on the bed frame and half hung by her hands from the canopy frame. She felt his hand between her legs then, another gently on her waist, and he whispered for her to relax as he removed the plug.

"Hold your position," he instructed firmly.

The waiting began. The iron cut into her hands a bit, and so she would put most of her weight on her legs, but after a while the awkward pose became too much, and she would use her arms again, trying to relieve the aching of her shaking thighs and calves. Back and forth she went...

Then, it came. She heard a swish, which she immediately identified as the horsehair flogger she'd picked out at the hidden shop in Knockturn Alley. The sting when it hit felt odd against the wax, but as he whipped the flogger across her thighs, abdomen, and breasts in quick strokes, the wax flaked off. He continued whipping her when the wax was cleared and Hermione let her head fall back as the stinging spread over her body. She saw flashes of colour before her eyes, and felt the stinging grow almost distant along with the burning of her muscles from holding the strained position.

There was an overwhelming, warm feeling building...as if she was floating, flying...feeling nothing but the sharp sting, the ache, the throbbing need. It was as if it was happening somewhere else, yet right there. She continued to hold onto the rail, to maintain her balance, to arch into the strokes of the whip as it sped up even more in the rhythm, striking her inner thighs, then her breasts, then straight between her legs, and it was as if she was catapulted, suddenly released, and she cried out in a shuddering orgasm.

She fell limp again, barely hanging on. The whipping had stopped and all was silent, except the rushing sound of her pulse and breathing, for several long moments.

"I do believe, Hermione, that I told you not to climax until your punishment was finished."

Her stomach clenched a bit, and then she felt his hand on her shoulder, guiding her down to sit on the bed on her sore bottom. The bed shifted as he climbed on, and then his hands pulled her close, between his legs. She collapsed on him, her mind and body whirling, but when his hand rested on her back and he said: "It's over now; rest, Hermione," she felt her body relaxing, growing heavy and limp as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

*****

She had climaxed from a flogging. Severus stroked her back idly as he sat on the bed against the headboard. Hermione was draped limply over him, her head resting on his chest. She had actually climaxed from a flogging. He looked down; her eyes were still covered by the blindfold, and the corners of her mouth twitched upward as she let out a deep, satisfied sounding sigh.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"I thought you'd gone to sleep on me."

"Hmm."

"Are you incapable of expressing yourself in more than grunts?" he asked, amused.

"Mmn-huh."

"I do believe I will have to come up with better ways to punish you," he declared.

"Hmm?"

"Punishment is supposed to be unpleasant."

"Oh...it was," she assured him, but the sighing, satisfied quality of her voice didn't do much to convince him.

"Yes, I believe this is a problem. How am I to punish you if you enjoy it?"

"I'm sure you'll come up with something."

"Yes...perhaps I shall make you write lines; or clean cauldrons...yes, I'll make you clean cauldrons and write lines." He felt her shake a bit as she laughed.

"That isn't very sexy," Hermione observed, raising her head as if to look at him with a smile, but she couldn't because of the blindfold. There was the imprint of one of his shirt buttons on her cheek. "What would you get out of that?"

"You're growing impertinent. Just for that, turn over," he said, pushing her onto her back. He quickly removed his trousers and nestled between her thighs, tucking his hands under her shoulders to grasp them. He thrust into her swiftly, roughly, savouring the feeling of her slippery, tight body around him, her hands grasping at his hips, moving up his back. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, pulling on her shoulders as he thrust into her; the noises from her throat, next to his ear, were a delicious accompaniment to his frantic pace. And then her inner muscles began clenching him, and he gripped her shoulders tightly as he spilled into her, shouting wordlessly.

It took them both some time to catch their breaths.

He felt exhausted, spent, purged. Hermione's soft, supple body embraced him, her inner muscles giving little flutters around his slaking erection. His eyes grew heavy, but he pulled up, studying her face. He withdrew from her body, moving his hips to one side of hers as he propped himself up on one elbow, his free hand tracing her profile. He bent down and took her lips, filling her mouth with his tongue, retreating again to suck her lower lip.

He smiled, closed his eyes, and pulled her against him. "Sleep now," he whispered. "Just for a while." Before he drifted off, he removed her blindfold.

*****

The next Friday evening, after dinner in the Great Hall, Severus closed the door to his quarters with a sigh of exhaustion. It had been an awful week. He went to his liquor cabinet, poured himself a drink, knocked it back and then poured another. Sitting in his chair, he rubbed his forehead with one hand. Potions class had been dangerous all week; his Slytherins - no, not his Slytherins any longer – had turned on him in his disgrace. In the last week, he'd issued more detentions and taken more points from Slytherin House than he had in several years previous.

And, while Slytherin was no longer his official responsibility, he'd had to spend a great deal of time with Professor Vector, going over the inner-House politics she hadn't been following, previously. They'd met nearly every evening during the week as he revealed to her many of the techniques he'd used to keep a handle on the Slytherins. The secret observation cubby had helped her immensely. She would be a good Head of House, he'd decided.

Just five months, he assured himself. Five more months, and he would be gone. Then, maybe he could start over in another job, one where he didn't have to deal with dunderheads. He could make potions to order, and perhaps even take on a promising apprentice or two to take the workload of the tedious potions. He was sure that Dumbledore would contract him to continue brewing the potions he'd been doing for years. He wasn't sure how his reputation as a known former Death Eater might affect him. And, while many of his former students would know he was an apt Potions Brewer, they might not trust him enough to obtain brews from him. Still, he had contacts that trusted him and one or more could be used as a front...a middleman would take a commission, of course, but if it proved necessary, he would do what he had to.

He was also making a mental checklist of the various expenses he would have once he left Hogwarts. He had adequate padding in his Gringotts account to stretch out for at least eight months, he thought. There would be housing and food, which Hogwarts had always provided. There would possibly be the added expenses of Muggle utilities since Hermione would likely want to have some of the Muggle amenities she'd grown up with; he remembered mention of paying the electric bill while staying at the Grangers' over the holiday, but he had no idea what sort of cost would be involved.

Then, he wondered what Hermione would do. He hadn't spoken with her much on her job and career plans. He didn't expect her to start out making much money, but even if she could, and despite his warning to her before they married, he wouldn't feel right demanding a monetary contribution from her. He didn't expect to provide her with an allowance for frivolous spending, but he felt the basic living expenses were his duty to attend to. Even if they hadn't married under normal circumstances, she was still his wife, not a housemate. He'd had more money...but the wedding rings had set his savings back some, and at the time he hadn't thought of the possibility that his regular income might be cut off so soon.

After some thinking, however, he wanted to take his mind off of things, and decided to go get the book he'd set aside just over a week earlier. But, once in the bedroom, he discovered both nightstand tables were clear; the book wasn't there. So, he went to Hermione's door, knocked twice and opened it.

Hermione and Potter were there; both looked over to him when he leaned into the room. They were sitting cross-legged on the couch facing each other, books between them and many parchments, which were probably notes, scattered about.

"Hi, Severus, did you need something?" Hermione asked, quill paused from her writing.

"Another time," he said briefly, then shut the door, wondering where the redheaded hinge of the trio was. Potter...another thorn in his side that wouldn't be going away anytime soon. The boy looked more like his father with every passing year.

*****

"What was all that about?" Harry asked, looking with puzzlement at the door Severus had closed.

"Don't know, I'll find out later. Now...who else would want to sign this?" Hermione asked, looking over her handiwork. Remus Lupin's birthday was approaching and she and Harry had decided to chip in together and send him a letter and presents.

"Neville would, and Ginny I'm sure. I'll take it up to Gryffindor Tower and get signatures and a collection going. I think there were some in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff who would remember him teaching and might want to chip in, too."

"Good, but I'll need all the money tomorrow morning; I'm going into Hogsmeade in the afternoon and can pick up Remus's presents while I'm there. After that, I'll use the post there to send it off before the meeting."

"That'll be good. I'm sure Remus will appreciate it. Too bad we can't be there to see him when he gets the presents."

"I know," she said, rolling the parchment and handing it to Harry. He took it, his fingertips wrapping around hers for a moment and he smiled at her. She smiled back at her friend. "So, back to Charms. NEWT's are only four months away."

"Yes, you keep reminding me; how can I forget?" he said, laughing. "At least it's quiet in here and I've got you to study with. I was afraid, before, that Snape wouldn't want me down here with you."

"No, he just doesn't want you down here with him. Why do you think he wanted me to have my own room? And besides, I wouldn't put up with someone dictating to me when I can see my friends."

"Yeah...that you wouldn't," Harry agreed, tucking the scroll into the pocket of his school robes which were draped over the back of the couch.

*****

"Severus? What was it you wanted?" Hermione asked several hours later when she emerged from her room. Severus had chosen another book to read and was now fairly relaxed after having a few more tumblers of brandy.

"You had a book in the bedroom; I'd started reading it and it was gone. I was going to see if you had put it away."

"Yes, I put it back up. Why didn't you just say so when you came in earlier?"

"Potter was there."

"Yes...and?"

"I do not wish to display our relationship in front of that boy."

"Severus...it's just a book. You couldn't ask to borrow a book in front of Harry?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes. "Yes, I suppose that would be a bit too exhibitionist...never mind the fact that we're married and the fact that the terms of the Marriage Law are fairly common knowledge...anyone who wants to think about it knows we're having sex. Exchanging bodily fluids on a regular basis is fine...but books, no, we can't have anyone know that we might share books." Hermione was laughing by the time she finished.

"Are you quite finished?" Severus snapped.

"Oh, come on...can't you see how silly that is?" Hermione asked, sitting in the armchair across from him and tucking her stocking clad feet up, opening the Charms text in her lap.

"No, I don't. If I display familiarity around you before your friends, it will change their perception of me. I'll not have students of mine looking at me as someone they might consider a friend. Additionally, as I'm sure you've noticed, I'm not exactly a favourite amongst the Slytherins any longer. I do not want them having additional ammunition by which to damage either of us. While some might speculate on the state of our relationship, they have nothing concrete to go on, and I would prefer it to remain that way. These things are private."

"Well...okay, I can see that then," she conceded. "But, you really don't need to worry about Harry; he's been pretty accepting about things lately. I don't think he'll spread rumours of our shocking bibliophilic harmony," Hermione teased, smiling at him, despite his scowl. "So, that was Job: A Comedy of Justice that you were reading?"

"Yes, it was."

"It's on the third shelf from the bottom on the left side," Hermione directed.

When Severus had retrieved the book from her shelves and seated himself again, quickly finding where he'd left off reading, Hermione looked up from her Charms text and asked: "So...about the books...does there really need to be a major negotiation about them each time?"

"Judging by the condition of your books, I am confident that you know how to care for them. If you borrow one of mine, I would prefer it to remain in our quarters, as some of them are rather expensive and difficult to obtain. I would ask that you inform me of which title you're reading so I know where it is if I need it. Additionally, the texts on the top shelf are there for a reason; don't open them out of my presence...they can be dangerous." After he'd read several pages, he looked over to where Hermione was seated. "I trust we won't have any more incidences of throwing books?"

"Of course not, Severus. You made your position on the throwing of books quite clear."

"Yes, still...that was an enjoyable lesson to teach you," Severus teased. Hermione glanced at him, smiled, and then went back to reading.

After several more moments of silence, Hermione looked up. "Severus...I can understand not wanting your students to see...well, that you're not always an evil git...but, I don't want to keep up something like that around my friends all the time, you know."

"Once we've left Hogwarts, or aren't around students, I suppose I could...relax...a bit," Severus conceded.

*****

The next day, as they approached the main thoroughfare of Hogsmeade, Severus told Hermione he would meet her at the Three Broomsticks when the meeting was over, and went to the apothecary to purchase a few potions ingredients, as she had shopping of her own to do. Since he had something to do in Hogsmeade anyway, he'd decided to walk with her to her bi-weekly meeting with the support group. Though he never asked about what went on, he did wonder what they talked about in there. The 'sharing' of feelings wasn't something he could see the point in, though he thought that perhaps having strategies to handle the situation, especially for some of the less well equipped, would be something they might discuss.

Whatever went on in there, from the attention Hermione gave the group, he supposed she served in a role of organising and trying to help rather than seeking help for herself. She didn't exactly need help.

"Hello, Severus," a low, feminine voice behind him said. He recognised the voice and turned from where he had been inspecting dragon scales.

"That is Professor Snape to you," he said coldly.

"Are you still angry? It's been what...five...no, six years now?" she asked, giving him a hopeful smile.

"If you're looking for Hermione, she's likely already in the meeting room upstairs at the Three Broomsticks. If you'll excuse me, I have things to attend to," he said stiffly, and turned his back to the tall, brunette witch.

"Severus, must you continue to hold a grudge? I said I was sorry, didn't I?"

"You might have said it, but you weren't," he accused, after glancing around the shop to be sure no one was present to overhear their conversation.

"No, I don't suppose I was," Treva admitted with a chuckle. "But how else was I supposed to go about it? And now, it seems as if you've broken your rule about students and former students twice...at least that I know about."

"You know quite well that I would have had nothing to do with Hermione had it not been for the Marriage Law, as you're in a similar arrangement."

"Yes, I suppose that's true. But, couldn't you lighten up about things now? We could be friends, you know," she suggested, a teasing lilt in her voice.

"We are not, nor will we ever be, nor have we ever been...friends. If you thought there was anything more between us, then you're deluding yourself."

"If that's all it was, then why are you still so angry about it?" she asked.

Severus spun around, fixing Treva with a hard glare. "I do not take kindly to being lied to," he hissed. "We have nothing to say to one another, so I would suggest you get on to your little coffee klatch and talk about whatever it is you talk about in that support group."

Treva smiled wryly at him. "Severus, I've missed the way you talk...among other things. I wondered if I might invite you and Hermione over for dinner sometime...perhaps you might find it in yourself to forgive me, and maybe give Barius a few subtle pointers?"

"Finding your bedroom life a little...dull, perhaps?" Severus taunted. "I'm sure you're quite capable of instructing him in what it is you enjoy; I won't have any part of it. Why you would even think it appropriate to ask is beyond me."

Severus turned and left the store, deciding to shop for potions ingredients later. That woman irked him to no end...she was proof that Ravenclaw had no stereotype other than brains. She had been in the top of his class as a student during his early teaching years. Had she not been Muggle-born, she would have certainly been put in Slytherin. He just hoped Hermione and Treva weren't talking about certain things...but he thought Hermione knew well enough not to share personal information about him, and he didn't think Treva would reveal information to Hermione about their former arrangement.

*****

Hermione smiled as Treva entered the meeting room.

"Sorry I'm late, had a few things to take care of before I came here," she apologised to Hermione and the few women who'd arrived early. "Now, we should go over the things we were to discuss today."

"Sure, no problem, Treva. Today, division of household duties and how to approach them was on the schedule," Hermione said, looking at the programme they had come up with together. "At least, for those who are trying to work things out living together."

"Okay...good. I was afraid it would be sex...there's a topic we need to cover, but I'm not sure that's a topic that will go over very well," Treva said, sitting down next to Hermione. "How have you and Professor Snape been getting along on division of household duties?

"Pretty well, actually. We're both organised and keep our things separate, for the most part. We haven't had any issues on that topic at all."

"That's nice. Barius and I aren't doing so well on that. He gets mad at my lingerie hanging to dry in the bathroom, and he has the awful habit of leaving his dirty socks on the coffee table in the living room."

Hermione giggled. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh..."

"Quite all right...it is funny when you think about it, I suppose. But what about the sex? How on earth do we cover sex?"

"I'm not sure," Hermione admitted.

"Well, not getting too personal, I hope...but have you had any issues on that topic?"

"Um...I'd say we've worked out any difficulties we might have had at the start," Hermione said carefully, looking down at her papers. "How about you?"

"Oh...things could be better, honestly. You know...ironically, when I was a student, I always wondered what Professor Snape might be like."

"Really? Before the Marriage Law, I hadn't thought of him like that at all. I didn't know anyone ever had, actually."

"So," Treva began, grinning conspiratorially, "Were you pleasantly surprised or disappointed?"

"Um...I'll say that it certainly wasn't what I might have expected had I thought of him like that," Hermione said, smiling.

Treva raised an eyebrow. "I see."

*****

Two hours later, Severus was seated in the Three Broomsticks, looking over the menu. He watched as the women left the pub from the upstairs room in groups or individually. Finally, Hermione came down...talking to Treva. Severus scowled back down at the menu.

"Severus, we're all done," Hermione announced when she came to his table. He glanced up, finding her alone and caught a glimpse of Treva leaving the pub.

"Ahh, good. Would you like to have dinner here or go back to Hogwarts?"

"Dinner here would be nice." She took the menu Severus handed to her as she sat down across the table from him.

"I trust all is well with the...group?" he asked, taking a sip of water.

"It's going," she sighed, "better for some than others. The bad thing is that there could have been so many better ways to solve the problem of purebloods intermarrying without a law like this. For instance...there are some wizards and witches who are considered purebloods, but who don't share any of the common gene pool that a lot of the British wizards do. Yet, instead of encouraging purebloods who want to keep their lines 'pure'-" she said, rolling her eyes, "- to marry other purebloods of foreign roots, they pass a law to force Muggle-borns to marry them. And now the only ones who have really tried to take advantage of the law are men who couldn't get a woman interested in them any other way." She looked down at her menu for a moment, then back up at Severus. "Of course, then there's the ones who agreed to marry women to keep them out of worse situations...apparently some of them are feeling a bit...used, as well."

"I am sure, if they extended themselves only to blindly rescue some helpless wench, they would feel used, especially if they didn't require compensation in some form for their heroics." Hermione looked up from her menu, about to think of something to say, but he continued. "When one does something for another only out of the goodness of their hearts, they open themselves to be walked upon, taken advantage of. If the other partner in the arrangement fails to return their favours in a way the first party feels is sufficient, then they are being used."

"I see...is that Slytherin Philosophy 101?"

"Slytherin or not, it is a basic fact of life."

"Hmm...and is there any chance you might feel used?"

"No. You've lived up to your side of things, but for some misunderstanding, which has been resolved. And, I'm confident you will continue to do so."

She looked down at her menu again as she pondered his words. Little by little, she was piecing together information. There were still gaping holes in the picture she was making of the man she had married. Perhaps a little probing would reveal another bit to add to the picture, she thought.

"Oh, there was something interesting I learned today," Hermione said, smiling at him. "One person who was a former student used to have a crush on you while she was at Hogwarts."

"Did she?" he said dryly.

Hermione nearly snickered. "Can you guess who?"

"Hermione, if I've been the subject of juvenile fantasies, it is not something that would interest me."

"Oh...well, never mind then."

Severus had a good idea who might have had that 'crush' on him and, if she was telling Hermione about it, Severus wondered if it would be best to discuss the situation with Treva, or simply let Hermione know before Treva told her herself. He didn't think that was something Hermione would be comfortable learning from another source. Presently, Madam Rosmerta approached them, and they both gave their orders.

*****

It was with great care that Hermione made her way to breakfast Wednesday, April the 1st. Severus had walked with her to the Great Hall, and they had found four booby traps on the way up from the dungeons, two of which had surely been set by Peeves. She sat down and began buttering her toast, hardly looking at anyone else, as she was tired from revising late the night before. A delivery owl dropped her morning copy of the Daily Prophet on the table in front of her, and she idly picked it up to scan while she ate.

Upon reading the headline, she dropped her toast.

Marriage Law Repealed!!

In a sudden press conference, Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge has announced that the 'Muggle-born Marriage Act' is clearly not working as it was intended and, after calling a session of the Wizengamot, held a vote to unanimously repeal the law. As many of our readers are aware, this law was first passed in September of 1997. In the nearly eight months since then, there have been one hundred eighty-six marriages performed. This controversial law was meant to revitalise the pureblood population of Wizarding Britain, while the restrictions on popular ingredients in contraceptive potions was meant to further the aims of this law. However, since its inception, three Muggle-born women have died under suspicious circumstances, and there are further investigations proceeding in regards to some suspicions of abuse of Muggle-born women in some of these marriages...

Hermione read on about the protests that she knew the Order had been organising, there was even a small mention of the Muggle-born victims of the law banding together to support each other. She was excited at the news but saddened by the deaths of the women. Dumbledore hadn't said anything about that, and she hadn't seen anything in the Daily Prophet before now.

"They've repealed it!" she announced excitedly when she looked across the table to where Ron and Parvati were sitting together. "The Marriage Law! They've repealed it!" she clarified, turning the paper so they could see the headline. They both smiled.

"That's great!" Ron chimed in, then he glanced sideways at Parvati, who was intently reading the article. Hermione wondered if he had something serious in mind there. He hadn't said anything about it, but the two of them had been spending a lot of time together. As the marriage law also had forbidden marriages between purebloods, it would mean that they wouldn't be able to marry as long as the law existed.

It didn't take long before everyone in the Great Hall was talking about it; Hermione wasn't the only one who subscribed to the Daily Prophet. It was with some irony that today, of all days, should be the time that the Marriage Law would be repealed and publicly revealed to be a farce. It was a sobering thought...the biggest practical joke upon everyone directly affected by the Marriage Law, and it wasn't the least bit funny. For some, it had even been deadly.

*****

Hermione composed a letter to Treva that night, asking to meet with her to discuss the future of the support group and how they should continue. She received a reply the next morning at breakfast, agreeing to meet, as well as a suggestion that they throw a party for everyone in the support group, husbands included, to celebrate the occasion. It sounded like a good idea on the surface, but she wondered if it would only be a reminder that they were the unlucky ones who were now stuck in mockeries of marriages not of their choosing.

While many had taken to trying to get along and make the best of it, it wasn't a happy situation. It was something one dealt with, finding ways to get along in spite of the problems; no one had married someone they actually loved or cared for deeply. Hermione wondered if anyone could come to love someone they'd been forced to marry. More to the point, she wondered if she could come to love Severus.

Things were better. They were getting along. They still didn't spend a lot of time together, but the time they did spend together was relaxing and didn't hold the tension that had been present at other times. She felt she understood him a little better than before but still, in the broader scope of things, their relationship was rather shallow. They had great sex. They shared books. They were both fairly neat. Otherwise, she wasn't sure just how much they had in common. They never spoke of their respective personal histories...oh, once in a while she might share a little titbit that seemed to fit into a conversation...occasionally Severus would make a comment that she would place on her growing mental map of the man she had married. She'd started to ask him one night, while they were getting ready to go to sleep, why he'd joined the Death Eaters, but decided not to. She wasn't sure she wanted to know; she didn't want to think about what he might have done in his past.

She wondered what he thought of her, as well. She thought he trusted her to some extent, as evidenced by his comment to Professor Vector she'd overheard. And then, after the much-anticipated punishment she'd accepted, he'd seemed to change slightly. He was more relaxed, more open. She remembered his comment to her regarding her 'disobedience' in climaxing before her punishment was complete...she'd expected him to start anew with something more, but he hadn't. Instead, he'd guided her back onto the bed, and pulled her to him. She remembered lying there, almost unable to think clearly, and feeling an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. It had been painful; it had been difficult, even scary. But, when it was over, it seemed as if a tension between them had eased. She also felt more confident that in the future, she would have no problem with anything he wanted to do.

And since that time, their sex life was pretty normal, she thought. The occasional spanking, blindfolding, or tying with ropes...nothing extreme. She'd even asked him to whip her with what she'd come to think of as 'her' flogger one evening...he'd complied most agreeably...it had done wonders for the itch she'd had just under her shoulder blade all that day and had left her body humming with arousal. The sex that followed had been quite intense. But, he usually saved the truly extreme things for times when neither one of them were busy, and she'd been quite busy with revising for her NEWT's, usually in her room with Harry who seemed to prefer the peace and quiet of her room, as well as her constant guidance on study plans, rather than the busy Gryffindor common room. If only Harry had been so willing when the time had come to take his OWL's.

She hadn't felt the need to refuse his sexual advances...the fact that she had the option, though, was comforting. He seemed to know when she was tired or had her mind on her studies, and there were times that he, too, seemed to prefer to just go to sleep.

And so, with that sense of ease in place, she decided it would be a good time to approach the subject of their future. The past, at least his past, might be too dark to delve into, but the future was something else. So, Friday evening after dinner in the Great Hall, she went to their living room where he was grading papers, furiously scratching with his red-inked quill.

She picked up her History of Magic text and waited for him to finish, eager to use any time available to cram information in preparation for her NEWT's. It was about an hour later that he rose from his desk and put the parchments in a large folder marked 'Fourth-Years'. He walked to his liquor cabinet, asking Hermione on the way, "Would you like a drink?"

"The brandy is a bit harsh," she returned. "What else do you have in there?"

"Firewhisky – also harsh, but I do have a blackberry cordial you might enjoy," he said, rummaging through his cabinet and pulling one bottle from the back. "I find it too sweet; Minerva gave it to me for Christmas a few years ago; I thought you might have discovered it on your own by now."

"I've always had the feeling I shouldn't go drinking from bottles in here...I never know what it might be. But, blackberry cordial sounds nice – as long as it isn't too strong. It's Friday but I do still have NEWT's to study for."

He brought her a glass of the cordial; it was a deep purple, almost black. It smelled nice enough, and so she took a sip, the sweet, rich flavour bursting on her tongue. "This is good," she said, as he sat down next to her on the couch rather than in his chair. He stretched his feet out, toed off his boots and laid his head back against the couch, closing his eyes.

"I will be interminably pleased when I no longer have to cope with dunderheads," he announced tiredly. "The Slytherins were difficult to deal with when I was Head of House, having been responsible for many of their parents ending up in Azkaban after the Dark Lord's defeat. Now, they're downright impossible." He took a sip of his brandy, then reached a hand over to Hermione, grasping her denim-clad thigh. "Vector is still coming to me weekly to ask my advice – I nearly snapped at her today."

"So...I guess that means you don't want to stay at Hogwarts much longer?" Hermione asked, even though it was obvious.

"No, I don't. I plan to resign at the end of this school year...we needed to speak of this soon at any rate."

"I was thinking the same thing. Where were you thinking of moving?"

"As long as I have a decent place to brew potions and a garden for some ingredients in a secluded site, the exact location isn't relevant. I was going to ask if you had a preference."

"Well, since I'm doing well enough on Apparition to go from here to London with no troubles, I don't think commuting will be a concern. I talked with Professor McGonagall earlier last month about career options and I'm seriously considering Arithmancy...perhaps in ward construction...not sure I'd want to work for Gringotts, even though they're the biggest employer of Arithmantic ward-breakers and -setters. I could use the other side of Arithmancy in trend predictions, maybe. I wanted to work for the Ministry, before...but ever since they passed that law, I don't think I'd want to work for someplace that has that much of a problem with common sense."

"No, you don't want to work for the Ministry. Hogwarts deals with enough bureaucracy as it is, it's even worse working directly for them."

"Have you thought about what you're going to do?"

"Potions, of course. And, while Dark Arts - or rather, the defence against it - is my original specialty, I've come to enjoy Potions. Perhaps I shall brew on a contract basis for St Mungo's and Hogwarts, and do other odd potions to order for apothecary stores that stock some of the more difficult brews for those dunderheads who can't do it on their own."

"Don't disparage the dunderheads if you'll be making money off of them."

"I shall disparage the dunderheads as I see fit," he retorted. "I won't do it to their faces, of course. That would be unwise if I wanted to make money from them. At any rate, anywhere secluded in Scotland or England would be sufficient, though the southern side of England wouldn't have such harsh weather. I was going to ask, however, if you did want to get a Muggle house, what the usual amenities run as far as cost goes."

"Oh...there's electric and water utilities, of course, then gas if it has gas fixtures - though I figure with spells for most things it won't cost too much - and telephone, of course; it would be nice not to have to rely on sending owls to my parents to communicate. Probably...oh about...150 Pounds which translates into Galleons as 30 a month."

"I see. If you would like, we could begin looking for an appropriate place now. We can likely stay here at Hogwarts through July or even August, if we need to; the Headmaster won't insist I leave straightaway, I'm sure."

"Okay...um, what price range would we be looking in?" Hermione asked. "I'm not really sure right now what kind of money I'll be making...and if we'll be splitting the bills..."

"I will cover the living expenses. If you would prefer it, you can put your money towards your savings, luxuries and similar things."

"It'll be my living expenses too. Wouldn't you rather split the bills? I should help too, you know."

"Let's discuss that when the time comes. It's been a long week. For now, we should start looking for a place to stay. You have NEWT's, so perhaps we could set aside one or two days a month to look for places once we get a few catalogues."

"As if I could forget about NEWT's...it's only what the rest of my life is hanging on."

"You will do quite well, Hermione. Don't worry so much."

Hermione sipped at her cordial; he hadn't given her very much, and it was soon gone. She decided a little more wouldn't hurt, so she got up and helped herself to another serving.

"I might change my mind about those Muggle trousers of yours." Hermione turned her head to look over her shoulder at Severus. His eyes flicked up to meet hers and then travelled back down as he smirked. "They do frame your arse quite nicely."

"Well then, as long as you see some merit," she quipped. "I don't plan to give up Muggle things entirely, the Wizarding world is a bit backwards when it comes to some things."

"Yes, perhaps. But for now, I believe I will take advantage of magically enhanced pipes and fill the tub," he said, draining the last of his brandy. "Join me?" he asked, rising from the couch, picking his boots up on the way.

"I want to read through this chapter again. I'll be in there in about half an hour." When she heard the water running into the tub, Hermione wondered why it was that he seemed so fastidious about hygiene, yet he only washed his hair once in a while, and then with soap. She wondered if it would be possible to introduce him to shampoo.

---

The Two scenes drawn by LeDivineMarquis! Her talent is wonderful.

http://www.playwitch.net/issue2/fanart/spanking_color2.jpg

http://www.playwitch.net/issue2/fanart/wax_color.jpg