Calm In The Tempest

I would like to thank my very thorough, very wonderful Beta, Nakhash Mekashefah. She is the most fantastic beta, working with her is highly educational.

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"Severus?" Hermione called as she walked through the living room in her bathrobe. Her wet hair was pulled back in a scrunchie.

"In here," he answered. The door beside the fireplace was open, and she walked into the corridor, which led to his private lab, office, and classroom. He was stirring a potion. He glanced over to her when she entered. "Come to drip on my stores?" he asked scornfully.

"No, I haven't come to drip on your stores," Hermione assured him with a snort. "I was going to see if you'd mind if I borrowed some of your supplies. I'll replace them next time I go to Hogsmeade."

"Wouldn't it be wiser to dress before brewing potions?" he asked.

"I suppose it would, yes. But it's not a complex potion and shouldn't take too long."

"What potion is that?"

"Hair removal potion," she said, crossing his lab to an empty table and turning on a burner, quickly gathering ingredients from the shelves. "Certain areas are a real bother to shave, you know."

"Yes, I suppose it would be." He went back to stirring his cauldron, adding another ingredient.

"You could have offered me a potion, Severus," Hermione told him with a touch of irritation in her voice.

"Yes, I could have," he admitted. "I wondered how long it would take you to decide to use a potion, though."

"You..." Hermione stopped measuring ingredients and turned to Severus, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "You mean to tell me I've been sitting there in the shower, contorting myself and taking all sorts of time to shave my...my...crotch; the number of times I've had razor rash...and all this time you were sitting back and laughing at me?"

"I do find it interesting that it's taken you all this time to seek a very simple wizarding solution."

"You...you...arrhhhgghh!" Hermione turned back to her cauldron, lit the flame on the burner, and resumed measuring ingredients again. After fuming for several minutes, she glanced over to Severus and caught a glimpse of the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

"Why?" she asked stiffly.

"Why do you think it is that it took you this long? You've known you were a witch now for nearly eight years, correct? You've done quite a number of things since starting Hogwarts yet for this one, simple thing, you didn't. You aren't the first Muggle-born to keep Muggle habits, even when other solutions would fit better." He turned off the burner and removed the cauldron to another table to cool. "I was aware, during your fifth year, of your solution for 'Dumbledore's Army' to organise their meetings. When pressed, you do come up with good ways to deal with things. I suppose, before now, shaving wasn't something which gave you enough trouble to seek an alternate solution, a Wizarding solution," he continued as he gathered a rack of potions bottles and set them beside the cauldron.

"Then why wait...why not make a suggestion? It would have certainly saved me a lot of time...and razor rash."

Severus looked at her and cocked an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly, and then began bottling his potion. Hermione scowled and turned back to her cauldron.

"Why is it you still use a straight razor?" Hermione asked when her hair removal potion was well on its way.

"I like it, and it doesn't take much trouble for the area I have to shave. It would be a waste of potions ingredients."

"Hmm," she answered, noncommittally. It took another ten minutes before she turned off the burner and set the potion aside to cool. She opened the cabinet nearby and withdrew a large, wide-mouthed empty jar, which would work to keep the potion in. She was about to cast a cooling charm since it was a minor potion, which wouldn't be adversely affected by a charm, but had left her wand on the bedside table. Before she could go get it, Severus moved behind her, cast the cooling charm, and then grasped her by the hips and spun her around.

"Up," he directed, hefting her to sit on the edge of the worktable, leaning forward to gently bite her neck.

"Severus, what are you doing?"

"Helping you," he said smugly, untying her robe and opening it. He ran his hands down her body, over her breasts, stomach, and then her thighs, pushing them apart. "I see," he said, kneeling down to examine her partially shaved pubic region, "it took a cut to motivate you, did it?" He smirked, reached into the cauldron, brought the potion out, and began to spread it.

"It really doesn't take that much, Severus," Hermione pointed out as he spread a thick layer of the potion between her legs, thoroughly covering her.

"Perhaps not if it was just for you." He finished, then pulled his work robes open, unbuttoned his trousers and moved between her legs. "I think I shall make use of this too..." he explained, positioning himself quickly, then thrusting into her.

*****

Hermione was reading her Daily Prophet on Friday, April 10, at breakfast. The repeal of the Marriage Law was still in the news, mostly involved in cleaning up the mess left behind. There was a new committee now, which the Headmaster had mentioned last time they spoke after the repeal of the law, to investigate allegations of abuse. At least some steps were being taken to try to fix things, and the decrees that the Muggle-born partners in the marriages would have to seek permission to get a job or bank account had been repealed, as well. The monitoring spell on the marriages was still in place, but there were no longer any monitors to track the couples' adherence to the law. They were still organising a committee to determine if there was even a need to try to reverse the spell. She wondered, too, if the much stronger fidelity spells could be reversed.

Another voluntary programme was in the works to prevent genetic incompatibility; it promised to offer genetic screening for purebloods who desired it. Hermione wished she could have been involved but, as she was a student still, there was only so much she could do. At least forming the support group made her feel like she was doing something to help out. After talking to Treva and raising the idea at the last meeting, the suggestion for a celebratory party hadn't gone over very well, so they decided to skip it. And now, the support group was beginning to run itself. A few more women had joined, and a few had dropped out, and smaller groups had formed, as well. For some, it wasn't really the focus on therapy so much as it was being around others who understood what they were going through.

Hermione wasn't sure she was really getting anything out of it, though. It didn't really matter that she wasn't; she thought the important part was to help others. During the times they took turns relating things they had done to make their lives better, giving each other ideas on how to approach issues, Hermione always felt a little weird not having much to bring up. She had started to wonder if some of the women in the group simply thrived on drama. One in particular always had a story...a long, involved story about how Darryl had done this or that or the other...Darryl's ex-girlfriend...Darryl's mother...Darryl's collection of beer bottle caps that he was going to make furniture out of and which were kept in a large bucket that he insisted could not move from the kitchen counter. She was beginning to wish that Felicity would just shut up already about Darryl. She'd said to Treva, when the meeting was over, that she was glad at least Severus didn't have any ex-girlfriends to worry about.

Treva's response of "And if he did, do you think she might be jealous?" had given Hermione pause. She had to admit, she was a bit curious about what sort of women Severus had sought out before.

"Hey, Hermione." Harry prodded as he sat down next to her and helped himself to scrambled eggs and bacon. "You'll be at the Quidditch match, right?"

"Yes, Harry, I will be."

"And what about the victory party afterwards?" Harry asked, giving her a sly grin.

"Counting your chickens before they hatch there, aren't you?" Hermione asked.

"Nah...with Draco gone, they haven't got a chance of winning. Their new Seeker has a hard time catching a ball thrown directly at him, much less a Snitch," he said, taking a large mouthful of scrambled eggs. "Besides, you'll want to be at the party, or you'll have to put up with Snape sulking about Slytherin loosing." He winked at her, and then went back to his breakfast.

"I doubt he sulks, Harry," Hermione retorted. "He fumes, rants, broods, but doesn't sulk."

"Excuse me then...you'll want to be there so you don't have to put up with Snape brooding over his House loss then."

Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to reading her paper. Harry finished his breakfast quickly and left the table, but Hermione continued combing the paper for anything relevant to what was going on with the Marriage Law. She frowned when, on page eight, she found a report of a mysterious death.

Man found Murdered

Nathaniel Sullivan, aged seventy-three, was found dead this morning at his place of work in Godric's Hollow where he was employed as a shop assistant for the last fifty years. He was found with his throat cut, his body under the table where he had been working. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was called to investigate, but no traces of magic were found. This is baffling, as the area has no Muggles present. No items were stolen from the shop. He leaves behind his new wife of six months, who is due to give birth to their son in four months time. He was married recently through the now repealed Marriage Law. His wife Patricia, aged twenty-four, had no comment for our reporters. Aurors have already eliminated her as a possible suspect as she was at home during the murder with Nathaniel's mother.

Hermione determined to send an owl to Patricia Sullivan. She knew she probably already had done so from the list of women she'd gone over during the Christmas holiday, but there were quite a few women who hadn't responded.

*****

It was well past curfew when Hermione made her way from Gryffindor Tower on Saturday night. There had been a celebration party, after all. It had still been a close game. She went to the dungeons swiftly and slipped quietly into her room, undressing silently. She made her way into the darkened bathroom, shutting the door to their bedroom before muttering 'Lumos'. The wall sconce flared to life. Hermione took a while in the shower, the water washing away the exhaustion she felt after the party, which had been all too loud and rambunctious. She exited the shower, drying off with a towel. She stopped short when she saw the mirror. The top half was fogged over, and in the fog was written 'Fundamundic'. She chuckled, proceeded with brushing her teeth, and then went to the water closet to perform the enema charm.

When she extinguished the lamp and opened the door, stepping out, she jumped as a hand clamped over her mouth from behind. Her heart hammered as she felt hot breath on her neck. "Well, well, my little Gryffindor back from her celebrations." He nudged her to walk forward, towards the bed, keeping his hold over her mouth and his hand gripping her hip. "Gryffindor may have won in Quidditch, but perhaps it might be better to have our own private Slytherin vs. Gryffindor match tonight?" he asked in a low whisper.

"Hmm?" she asked, muffled under his hand.

"Get on the bed," he said shortly.

Heart hammering, Hermione did so quickly. The room brightened with several candles when Severus muttered 'Lumos'. She turned to look at him, surprised to see his teeth exposed in a fierce smile.

"Fight me," he hissed, moving onto the bed.

"What?"

"Fight me," he repeated, his arms poised as if to grab her as he knelt on the opposite side of the bed. "Ready yourself, I'm not going to hurt you...and you need not worry about holding back for my sake." Then, he lunged at her.

Automatically, Hermione dodged to one side, but he still managed to grab her around the waist and push her roughly down to the bed. "Come now, surely you can do better than that?" he mocked.

Hermione paused for a moment, face down on the bed, his hand pushing down on her lower back, pinning her. She turned her head to look back up at him. He was watching her with a smirk. So, she decided to play along, quickly twisting her body out from under his hand. Hermione turned on her back, hesitated a moment, and then kneed him in the ribs.

"Is that the best you can do?" he asked, seemingly unfazed by her kick. "I assure you, you won't be able to hurt me." Hermione's eyebrows rose as she considered the possibilities...he was giving her a free-for-all to lash out in any way she could. Well, if that was what he wanted...

She scooted backwards quickly, reaching the headboard of the bed, and then crouched in a defensive posture. Severus was also on his knees, his cock bobbing straight ahead. Hermione glanced down and decided there was probably one area she should certainly hold back on. He moved forward slowly, hands in front of him, ready to grab her again. Hermione waited for the right moment, and then reached up, nearly standing, to grasp the strong canopy frame just as he lunged towards her again. She caught his head between her thighs, twisting her hips quickly and letting go of the frame. They landed, and she couldn't help but sit rather hard on his chest, her knees on either side of his head and her feet beside his shoulders. She heard the 'omph' of his forcefully exhaled breath and saw a wince cross his face, but he recovered quickly.

"Much better," he said.

"So, I win?" she asked with a smile.

His response was a quirked brow as he grabbed her hips, tilting his head up between her legs. She watched as his tongue extended and he began to lick her. She sighed. Just as she began to relax, she felt a sudden flexing of his muscles; then his legs grabbed her about her arms from behind and she was pulled back. She quickly found herself prone with Severus on top of her.

"Not quite," he said.

She kicked again, trying to aim for his ribs, but he caught her leg deftly and pushed it up over her head. Using his hand as leverage, she rolled backwards out of his grip, trying to think of some way she could win. She quickly ran through self-defence moves she'd learned. When he lunged towards her again, she caught his head by the chin and hair and pushed to the side, trying not to twist too hard. He landed on his back, and she jumped over him, kneeling with her hands holding his forearms down and her ankles over his thighs.

They gasped for breath for the space of several minutes; eyes, glinting with mirth, locked on each other.

Then, his arms and legs both moved suddenly and Hermione lost her balance and fell clumsily on top of him, her forehead bashing into his face. He rolled with her, and then pushed her over again, resting a forearm across her shoulders and his ankles firmly across the backs of her knees.

"No, you don't win," he pronounced.

Hermione struggled, trying to find purchase on the bed, leverage to roll over, but she was quite well pinned.

"To the victor," he whispered, pushing her legs apart with his knees, "go the spoils." She felt his length pressing between her legs and tilted her hips up to meet him. He laughed, and then thrust into her. Hermione gasped, and as he began to thrust into her quickly, her hips continued to move up to meet his strokes. She cried out as she came, and then he stopped, withdrawing and repositioning himself at her anus.

"I suggest you relax and let me in," he said in a low voice as the fingers of his free hand reached down, gathering moisture from between her legs and spreading it around her rear entrance, gently inserting a finger to lubricate her tight passage. It was replaced quickly with his cock, and he slowly entered her. Hermione relaxed, groaning with pleasure as he filled her, her toes curling as he began to thrust again...she could feel the tingling sensation along her inner thighs, all the way down to her toes.

He collapsed on her just after she released. She lay spent under him, both gasping for breath. He soon rolled over onto his back, and Hermione raised her head to look at him.

"You're hurt!" she exclaimed upon seeing a trail of blood trickling from his nose. Severus reached up to wipe the blood away, looking at the smear left on his hand. He felt at the bridge of his nose, and then turned to her.

"The bone is whole," he proclaimed. "Not that it makes much difference, I've broken it enough times before." He closed his eyes again, sighing deeply with a serenely relaxed expression on his face. "Slytherin wins after all," he murmured.

"That wasn't exactly a fair match."

"No, it wasn't. But, you didn't do too badly. Perhaps, next time, you might take a little longer in losing."

*****

Hermione was revising on Tuesday evening, her Arithmancy text in her lap and a parchment of notes to the side as she sat on the couch sideways against the arm, legs stretched across the seat of the couch.

"Unbutton your blouse," Severus said.

Hermione looked over to him, seated in his wingback chair, reading a book; he was watching her intently.

"What?" she asked.

"Unbutton your blouse," he repeated, "and remove your bra."

"Severus...um, I'm in the middle of revising here..."

"I'm not interfering with your studies; I simply want to see your breasts. Now...unbutton your blouse."

Hermione waited a moment, eyes locked with his, a faint glimmer of a smirk playing on his lips. She cocked an eyebrow at him, smirked back, and then reached up, slowly unbuttoning her blouse. She pulled the shirt apart, leaned forward and unclasped her bra, reaching up the short sleeves of her blouse to pull the straps off her arms, then pulled the bra off and set it aside on the couch. It felt a little strange to sit in the living room with her chest bared: dressed but exposed.

"Thank you," he said, his eyes drifting down her body. Hermione rolled her eyes and looked back down to her Arithmancy book.

She glanced up now and again. Sometimes his eyes were on his book, and other times, on her nude breasts. When he caught her looking, he would smirk at her. Finally, Hermione asked: "Like what you see?"

"Yes, I do. You have very nice breasts, Hermione."

"So, you're something of a connoisseur of breasts then?" Hermione asked, amused.

"I've seen a fair few. I like yours."

"Not like they're very big," Hermione said dismissively.

"Larger than some, smaller than others. There's more to good breasts than size," he said, a thoughtful expression touching his brow. He set his book aside and walked to stand beside her, then sat facing her on the edge of the couch. "Right now..." he said, trailing his fingers over one breast, "...they are untouched by gravity. This will change over the years, of course." He cupped one, gently pushing it upward and inward slightly. His thumb traced over her nipple. "Small nipples..."

"Hmm...smaller than most? It's not as if I've sat around in the girls' dorm and compared."

"Yes, smaller than most." He then pinched her nipple lightly. "Nipple size doesn't matter much, but I like the way yours look." He bent down and took a nipple between his lips, laving the tip of his tongue around it.

"I thought you said you didn't want to interfere with my studies, Severus. Not that I mind your attention...it's just, NEWT's are-"

"What are you reading?" he asked, sitting upright again, his hand still cupping her breast as he looked down at her book. "Ahh, I see. And do you think you have grasped all the concepts therein?" he asked, looking at her again...this time at her eyes.

"Well..." Hermione shifted slightly. "I've got most of it, but sometimes have troubles with the Inverse Logarithms used in anti-Muggle wards. Harry usually studies with me, but he doesn't take Arithmancy and I haven't had time to get with some of the other students to revise for this yet."

"Then perhaps you might welcome my assistance?"

"And Arithmancy was one of your good subjects?" Hermione asked.

"Second only to Defence against the Dark Arts, and Potions," he assured her. "Come on, move," he prompted, standing.

"Move where?"

"Sit in my lap," he said. Hermione scooted forward, and Severus sat on the couch, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her back up to sit against the arm of the couch, sideways across his thighs. His right arm wrapped around her, cupping her breast, and his left hand turned the book for him to look at it better. "Now...show me where you're running into troubles," he said.

"Okay...but, isn't this a bit distracting?" Hermione asked, pulling her parchment up to begin an equation.

"If you can do this with a bit of...distraction," he purred in her ear as he tweaked her nipple, "just think how much easier this will make it when you sit down to take your test."

It felt a little odd at first to be revising and taking instruction on Arithmancy while she sat in Severus's lap, chest bared as his hand occasionally found its way to cup, squeeze or stroke her skin, but true to his word, he knew what he was talking about and was able to explain a few of the problems in a way that made it easier to understand. Arithmancy was one of her best subjects, but still, she ran across things now and then that gave her troubles.

"Maybe you should have taught Arithmancy instead of Potions," Hermione said after a while, when she had calculated the fourth difficult problem with ease.

"Hmm, perhaps," he said, then looked at her with an intently stern face, leaned forward and brushed his lips against her ear. "You are here to learn the subtle art and exact science of Arithmancy. Few might, but I expect you would understand the beauty of a well crafted equation with it's shimmering numerals, the delicate trace of wyrd that creeps through the fabric of time and space, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses..." Hermione shivered at the combination of his hot breath and his silky words, "...I can teach you to invert integers, calculate parametric velocities, and even to accelerate vectors." Hermione laughed as he finished the modified speech of his Potions introduction.

"Unfortunately," he said, pulling back and returning his attention to the book, "the Arithmancy position was filled when I began teaching, and Valerie Vector took the position twelve years ago before I had a chance to apply. Actually, I would have much preferred to teach Defence, however...that was not to happen. But, one advantage of Arithmancy I missed out on in teaching Potions: as an elective, only the students who actually want to learn are there."

"Yes, the class does seem a lot more focused than the required courses," Hermione agreed.

"Now, do you feel you have absorbed the techniques?" Severus asked.

"Yes, I do. Thanks for helping me."

"You are quite welcome. Actually, there could be another way I might help you further," he said.

"How?"

"A revision game," he said, giving her a sly smirk. "Question, demonstration where applicable, and answer for all your subjects; rewards and punishments given for correct and incorrect answers."

Hermione thought for a moment, narrowing her eyes at him. "And I thought that sort of thing was just for fun in the bedroom..."

"Oh, it is, of course," he answered in a low voice, nipping her earlobe as he rolled a nipple between a thumb and forefinger. "However, since we have already made a few changes and compromises, why not a few more? I'm not requiring this of you...it is an option. In fact, I would want for you to assign your own rewards and punishments."

"You would?" Hermione asked suspiciously. The idea was an interesting one, intriguing in a way. But, she was wary of anything that might break the line between games in the bedroom and the rest of her life. However, since he assured her that it was completely up to her, she decided to indulge in a bit of questioning.

"Yes...the punishments should be severe enough to give you some true anxiety about giving an incorrect answer, of course. There will be immediate pressure to get the right answer...much as it would be during your NEWT's. You can also choose which rewards you would like for getting a certain number of correct answers." He drew back to study her after his explanation, waiting for her answer.

"So...hmm, something severe enough to cause true anxiety then..."

"Yes, for instance, one incorrect answer could lead to twenty swats with my hand, or five with the paddle...yes, I see the paddle would be something you would be anxious about," he said at her reaction to mention of the paddle. "If you truly want to know if you can perform well under pressure, choose punishments that would be appropriately...severe."

"And would you try to trick me just to be able to punish me...trick questions and the like?"

"Phrasing of a question in a test is often used to mislead those who read without enough attention," he pointed out. "So, yes, I would attempt to phrase things in a way which might cause some confusion if you aren't listening carefully. This will serve both to help you remember not to be deceived by those sorts of questions...and I admit I do enjoy punishing you," he said softly, leaning forward to nibble her ear. "The way you bite your lip and try not to cry out at times...the way you finally let go when you do succumb to the pain...most of all, the way you bravely accept it, never pleading or begging for me not to..."

"So, is begging or pleading something you've heard a lot of?" Hermione asked quietly, seeing another opportunity to perhaps get a glimpse of his past relationships.

"I've had a few women who, when the time came for a punishment they had agreed to, backed down and begged me not to do it...weaklings." He hissed the last word derisively.

"When that happened, what would you do? Did you still make them take their punishment?"

"With one or two of them who I thought were only having a momentary anxiety. But, if they repeated that kind of behaviour I would simply end things and not see them again." He was caught up in examining her breasts for a while then, blowing cool air across her nipples to watch them crinkle with the chill, lifting and pinching gently at them, tracing the contours. Hermione reached a hand up, running her fingers through his black, greasy hair, combing out a few tangles as she found them with her fingers. He seemed to like the repetitive motion, or at least he didn't stop her. She wondered then, how things might have gone had she ever cried and begged him to stop something. She never had...even when she demanded the right to tell him no to something, she hadn't cried or begged, rather, she had stood firm on her convictions.

"Actually, I do have a few punishments to suggest for your list that you haven't yet experienced..."

*****

Thursday evening, Hermione was sitting in her room, writing down a list of punishments and rewards. Harry had just left to return to Gryffindor Tower after revising with her. Actually, her more serious contemplation of Severus's idea for a revision game was a result of trying to have Harry quiz her. As happened during their fifth year in revising for OWL's, Hermione couldn't resist snatching the book away from him after nearly every question to make sure Harry had asked her right and to make sure that that he wasn't telling her she was correct when a more complete answer should have been given. She had to admit, she probably was annoying Harry quite a bit through that. At least he was a lot calmer about things now than he'd been then. Of course, not having Voldemort giving him dreams and visions, constantly, helped.

It was a little odd, and she felt a thrill of excitement while going over the list. She still hadn't decided whether or not she wanted to take him up on the unusual offer.

As per Severus's suggestions, she'd chosen a different punishment for each subject. Severus would quiz her orally on Charms, Potions, Arithmancy, History of Magic, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, and Ancient Runes. Punishments for failure to answer a question would be delivered immediately, and rewards would be delivered at the end of the quizzing when the tallies of correct answers were tabulated. She found an interesting conflict too. On the one hand, she did realise that for there to be real pressure to answer a question correctly, the punishment for an incorrect answer would have to be appropriately severe. On the other hand, it was very strange to write down For incorrect answers in Charms, five strokes with the wooden paddle. or to write: For incorrect answers in Ancient Runes, three minutes of enduring the anal plug with stinging potion crème. She scowled at the punishment for Ancient Runes...it was one of Severus's suggestions, and she really wasn't sure about that one (he had assured her that if she chose that, he would have the antidote crème on hand to administer after the time was completed). She crossed out three minutes and changed it to one minute.

Deciding to skip the rest of the punishments for the time being, she went on to the rewards. Hermione nibbled the end of her quill momentarily as she thought. For Arithmancy score of more than 95%, twenty minutes of cunnilingus. She smiled...yes, that would be nice, certainly. She then wrote: For a score above 95% in Charms, thirty minute back massage. She then decided on a foot massage for an exemplary score in Ancient Runes, smirking to herself at the thought of sitting back and having Severus give her a foot massage. For Astronomy, she decided upon having her breasts suckled and played with for thirty minutes; she really did enjoy that. For History of Magic, Potions, and Defence Against the Dark Arts she chose having him wash her hair and give a scalp massage, dinner in a nice Muggle restaurant, and having him read three chapters of the book of her choice in bed, respectively (she really did like his voice).

Rewards finished, she went back to punishments. Maybe this was like the pressure of NEWT's in some ways...she dreaded a low score because that would impact her future...the punishments were short term, of course, but she had to make them difficult enough that she really would have motivation not to fail. The problem was, she was running out of punishments she truly found dreadful...

Finally, she finished and debated hanging onto it for a while or taking it to Severus. She decided to take it to him. He was grading papers at his desk; she walked in front of it and extended the parchment to him. He looked up, took the parchment, and read over her list.

"Acceptable, except for this," he said, crossing out the punishment she'd chosen for DADA. "That is dangerous, though quite creative. I would suggest instead..." he quickly wrote next to the crossed out punishment, "this."

Hermione took the paper back and looked at his replacement. "Um, yes, okay." She nodded, and handed the parchment back to him.

"Good. Now, when would you like to be tested?" he asked, eyes glinting.

"Um..." she paused, suddenly feeling nervous. "This Sunday?"

"Very well. I do hope you do well in Charms, otherwise, you might find sitting in class on Monday to be rather...uncomfortable. Bring your books to me on Friday, and I will devise an appropriate assortment of questions...of course, you can leave your Potions and Defence texts behind, I know quite well what test questions would be appropriate for those."

*****

Saturday, April 18, Hermione made her way into Hogsmeade with a group of students. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, so she was looking forward to having a good time with her friends, but still had the support group meeting to go to later that afternoon. Ron, Padma and Parvati Patil, Harry, Neville, Lavender Brown, Colin Creevey, and Seamus Finnegan were all walking together in a cluster, sharing concerns about the upcoming NEWT's. Hermione was listening carefully to conversations, trying to hear of any more 'revision aids' in the form of dangerous compounds which were being touted to help one concentrate, sleep less, and revise more. She'd caught one student with them earlier that week in Gryffindor Tower, confiscated the 'revision aids', which had turned out to be nothing more than a combination of dust and powdered toenail clippings, and reported the students to Professor McGonagall. There had been rumours that someone had Runespoor eggs, which would be a valid revision aid, but they were still dangerous and a controlled substance.

Unfortunately, the fact that she was Head Girl and had a reputation for always reporting miscreants meant that the other students were careful not to mention rule-breaking around her too much. She had to be careful, too, to devote time specifically to spend in Gryffindor Tower. Living in the dungeons and having all that space – and quiet - to herself, sometimes made it too tempting just to stay there. But, she had responsibilities to attend to.

The morning was relaxing, though. They spent time shopping; Ron and Parvati excused themselves to go to Madam Puddifoot's for tea together. She filled up on chocolate at Honeydukes and bought extra to take back with her.

When it was nearly one thirty, she excused herself from the group of laughing and joking friends and made her way to Madam Rosmerta's for the support group meeting. As usual, she began by looking over the day's agenda, notes made, and other things with Treva, also mentioning the letter she had sent to the young widow she'd read about in the paper, giving her an invitation to join their support group.

It didn't take long for the regulars to arrive, and at two they commenced with the meeting. Ten minutes into proceedings, as Hermione was trying not to roll her eyes at reports of Darryl's latest antics, there was a knock at the door, and the nearest young woman rose to open it. A young, pregnant woman stood in the doorway; a slight smudge of soot was on her sleeve as if she hadn't dusted completely after Floo travel. She held a piece of paper in her small hand.

"Excuse me, is this the support group for the Muggle-born women affected by the Marriage Law?" she asked.

"Yes, it is," Hermione answered, suddenly realising they needed a better name. "I'm Hermione Snape, and we're all here to talk about things and help each other out where we can."

"I'm Patricia Callicotte...that was Patricia Sullivan up until nine days ago," she said. "I received your owl."

"Yes, I'm glad you could come," Hermione said. "Won't you sit? We have tea and biscuits, as well."

"Thank you," Patricia said, quickly finding the nearest seat. Hermione glanced to Treva, who handled some of the awkward moments better than she could.

"I'm Treva Bulstrode, if you would like you may introduce yourself now, or if you feel more comfortable, please feel free to simply sit and listen. I read about your husbands death in the paper...you have my condolences."

"Oh, please, I'd rather have congratulations for that," she said archly, making a dismissive motion with her hand. "It's the consequences I need condolences for," she said, scowling momentarily down at her protruding belly. "I don't mind introducing myself now, actually. It's good to finally get out," she said, looking around at the group of about twenty women. "I was married just over six months ago, one of the first of that damned law, to the most incompetent, idiotic, alcoholic, crude, old and wrinkled excuse for a man I've ever known. He had to take a potion to keep it up," she said, sneering.

"Between him and that hag of a mother of his, I was always watched, couldn't get out, he even hid my wand. I was pregnant within the first month and figured at least then I could get out of the fucking Ministry 'coitus clause' bullshite. No, they sent us a fine notice anyway...the bastard blamed me, and since he had control of my bank account, took the money from there to pay the fine. Of course, he was delighted to discover I had savings, and it didn't take him long to spend it gambling and drinking. So, now I'm twenty-four, widowed and pregnant and not a Knut to show for having been widowed...I won't be keeping it, by the way, I never wanted to marry or have children, and it's too late to abort. I've found a wizard couple who can't have children and wants to adopt. But, whoever killed my late husband, I owe a debt of gratitude to," she finished firmly. Her recitation of the events had been clipped but delivered with an underlying anger.

Hermione thought she had a coldness about her and wondered if she had always been like that or if it had been brought on by what she'd been through. She felt sympathy for her, but at the same time, was reminded that she had been fortunate in having Severus to help her.

Later, Patricia didn't stick around after the meeting had come to a close. Hermione had hoped to talk to her some more, but apparently she needed her space.

"Well," Treva began after the room had cleared. "I'm not sure if this group will be beneficial to Patricia, or if her presence will be good for the group."

"But, she's been through so much, it's not her fault," Hermione protested.

"Oh, I'm not saying it is. I'm simply looking at the fact that...well, our purpose for the most part is to help everyone adjust to their lives and to deal with the reality of their situations. Patricia was obviously in a terrible situation, not one that she should have learned to simply deal with or get along in. I'm rather behind her in being glad her husband was killed, actually. But, even if Barius and I aren't getting along well in everything, I don't want him killed. And you, would you want something to happen to Severus?" Treva asked, crossing the room to the refreshments table and starting to pack up the biscuits.

"No, I wouldn't...yes, I see what you're saying, then. But, can't we do something for her?"

"Actually, I've been speaking with some of the committees this past week regarding cleaning up the mess left behind by the law. One thing they are working on is identifying, and getting women out of abusive marriages. My parents are going to work directly with anyone they are able to get out of those relationships, in counselling, so we can focus on this group."

"But, I thought they couldn't get out...the binding spells, the fidelity charm..." Hermione withdrew her wand and quickly charmed the scattered chairs about the room to stack neatly along one wall.

"They might not be able to get out of the marriage, but they can get away. The new head of the committee is quite serious about fixing this problem. His former fiancée was one of the three women who died mysteriously. They were going to get married but hadn't officially become engaged, and since he was a Muggle-born, too, once the Marriage Law was passed she had to marry someone else when she got a petition. They haven't been able to prove that her husband murdered her, but he is doing all he can to make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else."

"That's good. It's bad enough to be forced to marry...but, I'm not sure I can imagine what some of them are going through," Hermione said sadly. "What Patricia was talking about today...that's just awful."

"Yes, it really is. Personally, I'd like to see Minister Fudge's and Lucius Malfoy's heads on platters for what they pulled over on us all."

"I don't think, after a full Obliviate, Lucius Malfoy would be worth going after."

"True, but from what I've heard, he's always been a slippery snake...wouldn't surprise me a bit if he still managed something. I just wish I could have been there to see Severus curse him," Treva said as she emptied the tepid tea with a wave of her wand.

"I was there...and it wasn't nice. Of course, at the time I was trying to keep Severus from bleeding to death."

"Hard to imagine him in a position like that," Treva mused. "Well, you know, after always seeing him in such control in the classroom back at Hogwarts. But, that was a long time ago."

*****

Monday morning, Hermione sat down gingerly at breakfast just as the delivery owl swooped down with the morning paper. Harry joined her as she scanned the headlines, looking for any news related to the repealing of the Marriage Law, but found little of importance.

"Hey Hermione...you want to revise with me tonight? I was kind of thinking maybe we could go somewhere else, like the library..."

"I suppose we could, yes. I need more work on advanced Charms anyway, and that's something we're both taking, so we could work on that."

"I thought you were doing great on advanced Charms?"

"Well...I've discovered that some of the more obscure Charms are difficult to perform...um, might be difficult to perform under pressure, like during NEWTs," she said, correcting herself mid-sentence. Yes, under pressure...like Severus standing before her with a paddle in his hand, eyes gleaming malevolently as he tapped out a beat with the paddle against his thigh, eagerly watching the grains in the timer glass run out as she tried to perform the charm and give a correct recitation of the properties of said charm. She hadn't earned a back massage, but was only one question away from earning that reward. Unfortunately, the three questions she had missed had lasting effects. She had, however, earned twenty minutes of cunnilingus (which had been absolutely delightful), her hair shampooed (very relaxing), and dinner at a Muggle restaurant (which he promised would be the following Friday evening).

"Really? You seemed to have everything down when we went over it last time..."

"But Harry, we didn't go over everything...NEWT's will be very thorough...they might even test us on something very obscure...what if we don't know everything just from our notes and textbooks? And the pressure! Harry, this isn't going to be like some kind of revision session or even the tests we've had already...this is NEWT's! This is what our future careers will be based on; we have to be ready," Hermione lectured.

"Oy, you know," Ron, who was sitting very close to Parvati, chimed in, "you were just like this when it was time for OWL's, and you did just fine. Really, you can afford to relax a little...it's not like Snape is poor or anything," Ron said. Hermione scowled at him furiously, and Ron's eyes widened as he glanced around, suddenly aware that the eyes of nearly every girl who had overheard him was glaring at him or looking pointedly away. Parvati looked embarrassed. "Um, well...I mean, I'm just saying you can afford to relax a little is all...you know, even if you don't do all that well...er...sorry, I didn't mean it to sound like that." Ron's nervous back-pedalling seemed to calm Hermione a bit.

"Ron...it doesn't matter that I'm married to him. I have every intention of doing well on my NEWT's and having a career of my own," she told him in a low voice.

"Okay...listen, really...I didn't mean it like that, okay?"

"Yeah, Hermione," Harry said, "I think he was just trying to help...you know, you are getting a little frantic about all this. Really, think of it like OWL's...you did fine with them, and you were a nervous wreck until you got your scores back."

"Well, maybe the reason I did so well was because I was so worried about it, did you think of it that way?"

Harry shrugged as he bit into a sausage. Hermione turned back to her own breakfast, and the thought hit her that she actually knew nothing of Severus's financial status. She didn't think he was rich...but he didn't seem all that poor, either. After all, he had an expansive library, good furniture, and had been able to pay for their wedding rings and her wedding dress without limiting her to a certain budget. And, the way he'd dismissed her suggestion that she should pay for half their bills once they left Hogwarts made her assume that he was probably fine in financial matters.

*****

After Ancient Runes, Hermione made her way to Advanced Potions where she waited in the hall for the door to open and class to begin. Harry joined her, smiling, and they waited in silence for a few more moments. The door opened and the Advanced Potions class quickly went to their tables and took their seats. Hermione, just as she had at breakfast, sat slowly. It wasn't too sore, but she wasn't about to simply plop down on a hard wood chair. Hermione looked up to the blackboard as Severus flicked his wand, causing the directions for the day's project to appear.

"As you lot are now preparing for your NEWT's, we will be intensifying our revision even more than the usual high standards for this class," Severus said in a low voice. "I don't need to remind you that your score on NEWT's will determine your career options, or lack thereof. As my reputation as Potions master of this school hinges on the scores you produce, it should come as no surprise to any of you that I will not accept failure." He crossed his arms and scanned over the seated students. "Potter, in the fifth step of brewing Veritaserum, which direction should one stir?"

"Um...anti-clockwise, sir," Harry answered. Hermione stifled a groan.

"Incorrect. It appears fame still does little to help one's attention in class. Two points from Gryffindor. Miss Patil," he said, turning to address Padma Patil, "do you know the answer?"

"Clockwise, Professor Snape," she answered with assurance.

"Well, well, well...also incorrect. Two points from Ravenclaw." He stalked between the tables. "Does no one know the answer?"

Hesitantly, Hermione raised her hand. Soon enough, Severus's eyes turned to her. "Mrs Snape," he said, "would you care to inform this class, which apparently does not pay attention, of the correct answer?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yes, one should stir in a figure eight pattern during the fifth step of the brewing of Veritaserum, neither clockwise nor anti-clockwise," Hermione said...she'd gotten that one wrong on Sunday, and her nipples tingled with the memory of it.

"Correct...four points to Gryffindor." Hermione's smile faltered when Harry shot her a curious glance with a hint of suspicion. She looked back down to her parchment, where she began writing the day's assignment. On her way to get her supplies from the cabinets, she also caught a scowl from Pansy Parkinson and a malicious sneer from Blaise Zabini.

*****

"Severus, I have a favour to ask you," Hermione said that evening, after she'd returned from a short visit from Gryffindor Tower. She'd made an excuse to Harry that she wasn't feeling up to revising with him that night, but promised to do so the rest of the week. Actually, she wasn't up to dealing with the results of that morning's Potions class. Word had spread that she was now officially Professor Snape's pet, and if the others of Gryffindor had thought her a traitor before, now it was worse.

"And what might that be?" he inquired.

"Don't call on me in class."

Severus glanced up sharply from grading. "And why not?"

"Well...because when I get something right, everyone thinks it's because you're showing me favours, or asking me something you know I'll know the question to...or playing favourites..."

"That is a question that might very well show up on NEWT's. While you remain a student of mine, I will call on you in class when it is appropriate to do so, just as I would with any other student. And, I would think that a little rumour and gossip wouldn't bother you. After all, since we've been married the gossip and rumours have been circulating profusely. You should know by now that that is the reason I lost my position as Head of Slytherin. If I can stand up and teach class every day, knowing it was my students, my Slytherin students, who most likely were the cause of that, then you can deal just fine with a few harmless rumours and assumptions," he declared. "At least now that the damage has already been done, it's harmless," he said bitterly and looked back down at his grading, slashing furiously through a paragraph with his red-inked quill.

His words stung, but Hermione walked to the front of his desk, resting her hands lightly on its surface. "Severus," she began softly, "I really am sorry you lost your position as Head of Slytherin.

"Sorry?" he hissed, looking up at her. "Sorry? Yes, tell that to the Board of Governors, why don't you? Then, watch while they come up with three new allegations of how I'm favouring you above my other students despite all evidence to the contrary. Perhaps they might see fit to dismiss me as a teacher, as well."

"I only mean that I wish it hadn't happened to you like that. It was wrong," Hermione continued.

"Yes, it was wrong; but it did happen. Remember that if ever again you think you're on the unequal end of our arrangement," he said coldly.

Hermione bit her lip, feeling tears spring to her eyes as he looked back down at his grading, ignoring her. She turned away, took a deep breath and retrieved one of her textbooks. It was tempting to close the door and revise alone in her room, but she didn't. She settled down on the couch and reminded herself that it must have meant a lot to him to be Head of Slytherin. But, she was really looking forward to leaving Hogwarts behind. Perhaps, once they were no longer student and teacher as well as husband and wife, things might be easier.

Several hours later, he apparently finished with his grading. Hermione looked up when his footsteps stopped just before her, his face was blank. She gave him a questioning expression, and he pursed his lips, clearing his throat. "Recent events have been rather...disconcerting, for me. I am sure you can understand that during such times," he continued, a muscle in his cheek twitching, "one can easily say things which sound harsher than they are meant to be."

Hermione nodded, giving him an understanding smile. Severus turned stiffly and stalked to the bedroom. It wasn't quite an apology, Hermione thought, but it was pretty damn close.

*****

Severus disrobed quickly, preparing for a shower before bed, hardly believing he'd apologised to Hermione. He didn't want her to expect that at every turn; but still, he'd snapped at her and had been harsher than he probably should have. It wasn't until she'd sat down with her book that he'd glanced over to her and noticed her furtively dashing moisture away from her eyes with the back of her hand before her face hardened and she focused on her reading. He had then realised that it probably wasn't best to go about snapping at Hermione the way he would a student. He had no qualms sending a student away in tears, he did it all the time...had done it to Hermione even when she was younger, and he'd felt no guilt.

But, she had been attempting to offer him some words of comfort, and meeting her words of comfort with harsh barbs, even if he didn't particularly want her compassion, wasn't exactly the best way to maintain the rather easy contentment he'd felt around her of late. He would much rather have peaceful contentment, along with the rather enjoyable sexual aspects of their relationship, than simply sex and awkward or hostile silence between them.

*****

Just as promised, Severus took Hermione to a Muggle restaurant the Friday following the game they had made of Hermione's NEWT's preparations. She actually had a wonderful time and had been surprised that Severus had managed to find such a nice place. She'd wondered momentarily during their dinner if his finances really were good; it wasn't an inexpensive restaurant by any means. Ron's comment about that still irked her, though.

After revising non-stop for nearly a week, Hermione hadn't been eating well and had just started her monthly cycle. Usually, her cycle gave her no problems, some minor cramps, but for some reason this time she felt miserable. It was eight in the evening and she had decided to go to bed early for a change. Not only that, but she had a headache. She'd extinguished the lights in the bedroom after a quick shower and snuggled under the covers, glad for the silence of the dungeons. She wondered if she should bother getting a headache potion or a general painkilling potion, but she simply wanted to do nothing for a while. It was one of the symptoms of headaches that the one experiencing the headache didn't feel like going through the trouble to procure a solution to said headache at times.

Just as Hermione was nearly asleep, she heard Severus enter their quarters. A moment later, he was in the bedroom, disrobing. He slid between the sheets, reached a hand out and grasped her by the shoulder, urging her to turn over.

"Severus..." she groaned, rolling over onto her back. "Not now...please, no." She looked over to him; his face wasn't visible in the darkness. He'd stilled, his hand still on her shoulder. "I've got a headache, cramps...and besides, the passage is blocked," she continued tiredly.

After a long silence, Severus suggested: "I shall get you a potion to relieve your headache and cramps; there are some already prepared in the lab. And...blockages can be removed."

"I'd appreciate the potion...but still, not tonight," she asserted quietly, a queasy feeling in her stomach. She hadn't felt the need, up until that moment, to tell him no on sex. Perhaps she could have gone ahead once her headache and cramps were gone, but she was tired. Her responsibilities, from being Head Girl, preparing for NEWT's, and playing a large part in organising the support group, were pulling her in so many directions. He'd promised she would have the right to tell him no, and now that she'd said it, she wasn't going to back down; now was the time to see if he would respect that.

Without another word, he rose from the bed, tossed on a bathrobe and left the bedroom.

Hermione sighed, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. She didn't really worry that he would press the matter, but she wondered if he might be difficult to be around afterwards. A moment later, she felt the bed shift again and opened her eyes as he lit a candle with his wand.

"Drink this," he said shortly. Hermione took the phial, glancing at his expressionless face as she drank it.

"Thank you," she said, handing the phial back to him. "Tomorrow, Severus...just...I mean, you did say-"

"Hermione," he interrupted, his lips were tight as he spoke, "I hold to my bargains." He gave her a piercing glare; she wasn't sure if he was upset about her refusal or that she thought he wouldn't hold to what he had said. He extinguished the candle as he rose from the bed and left the room, leaving Hermione in now blessedly pain-free silence and darkness.

It was as she was about to go to sleep again that Hermione remembered the date. It was April 30th. Six months since they had been married. Typically, newlyweds celebrated every anniversary that came along, yet she'd forgotten, and she wasn't sure if he'd forgotten or simply didn't think the date was worth mentioning.

She made a decision that by their first year anniversary they would have something that was worth celebrating. Maybe not love...but she was going to find something they could both share, something more than sex and books. There had to be more. She smiled wryly...perhaps they could be celebrating not having driven each other completely crazy after another six months had passed?

*****

The next morning, a Friday, Hermione glanced up as a Ministry owl landed before her breakfast plate. Curiously, she reached forward and untied the missive, opening it quickly.

Dear Hermione Snape,

As you may have heard, The Ministry of Magic is taking seriously the allegations that abuse has taken place in many of the marriages performed under the Marriage Law. It is our goal to see that appropriate actions are taken to prevent such atrocities, and to further that aim, all couples married under the terms of the former law are to be interviewed under Veritaserum to be sure that all is well.

An Auror and a Ministry-appointed counsellor will be sent to evaluate your situation and to question you regarding your relationship on Monday, May 4, at three o'clock pm. Please be ready in your residence at that time.

Thank you for your cooperation,

Gregory Ludwig

Ministry of Magic

Department of Marriage Law recovery.

Hermione's heart raced and her stomach felt as if it were in her throat. She looked up to the High Table, where she saw Severus frowning at a parchment. He glanced up and met her eyes; a muscle in his cheek twitched as he folded the parchment and put it in his robes.

---

LeDivineMarquis has drawn another masterpiece, inspired by the scene of Severus helping Hermione with her Arithmancy: http://www.playwitch.net/issue2/fanart/studying.jpg