Beauty Walks a Razor's Edge...

A/N: Thanks again to my betas, Augury27 and ImOnMedication! Please review! I want to know your thoughts!

***

"So this is Spinner's End?" I asked as I looked around the sitting room.

"Yes," he answered dryly. "I know it's not much, but it is home."

I appraised the house sharply. So like Severus: isolated and neglected.

"Well, let's settle in then, shall we? We've a lot of work to do."

"What?" He turned sharply in my direction.

"This house is in disrepair. It's right tip! My mother raised me better than to keep an untidy house! And I also believe in equality. So, you are going to pull your weight as soon as you are feeling better to help me get this 'tip'...tidy!"

"This room here," he stated, as his hands swept the sitting room, "is mine. You will not be doing any of your womanly domesticating in here, is that understood?" he growled.

I scrunched up my eyes and debated. "Fine," I acquiesced. "I respect your need for a space of your own. "But..." I turned back from my exit to make one last request. "I am allowed to peruse through your books in this room. I assume the old rules still apply? No one is to know of my existence?"

"Correct," he nodded in agreement. "Fine, you may 'peruse,' but for God's sake, be respectful and don't misplace or put them back out of order. Understood?" he barked. He obviously was not happy about the prospect of my "womanly domesticating."

"Fine," I agreed. We shook hands on it. Good Lord, it's like we are signing an armistice agreement, or something!

So life settled in for us during the summer. Severus was gone a lot, doing work for the Order, and also meeting frequently with the Dark Lord. His returns from those meetings grew to become less vile as time passed, but unfortunately, the Dark Lord was still a vindictive and sadistic bastard. I grew more familiar with my husband's body, probably more than he would like, but someone had to tend to him. I learned the patterns of the old scars and memorized the routes of the newer ones. As I washed and massaged every inch of him, I felt more and more in tune with each muscle, bone, and vein. I silently claimed his body as mine as I continued to touch and caress him while I applied the medicines for his healing. More than once, his body would react to my massaging touch, and I would gently stroke and bring him to orgasm. It never took long. I believed it was purely physiological...involuntarily release...as he was unconscious. I never felt squeamish about it. I figured it was what he really needed. I longed to touch and care for him, for his body was mine and everything I did was a sacred act of mercy from a wife to her husband.

After a month, I started to think about the strangest thing. I realized that after all that had happened to me, and the fact I was married, plus that I had seen and touched my husband's nakedness as much as any real wife, I had never been kissed.

I was making dinner one night. Severus was reading the paper, and I just started crying. I was overwhelmed by my sudden realization, and I felt such a loss that was indescribable. My legs gave way, and I sat down at the table and tried to calm down. Severus came over to me and sat in the chair next to me.

"What is it?" he asked darkly.

"I –I don't know if I can talk about it. I don't know how to explain," I said numbly.

"Try," he urged.

I told him all my thoughts, what had been occurring during the times I nursed him when he returned from the Dark Lord wounded, how I had been touching him to relieve him, and then finally, my realization of never being kissed. After I finished, I felt so stupid and weak. I had been scared to tell him I had been bringing him to orgasm while tending to him. What if he thinks what I did was dirty? He had no reaction to that bit of information, but he did react to my realization of never having been kissed.

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

I knew I heard the words. They just seemed so far away. "What?" I asked, shaking my head.

He fumbled with the napkin on the table. "I said, do you want me to kiss you?" he repeated in a very soft, shy voice.

I shook my head and tried to laugh lightly. "Please, I'm not 'kissable.' I'm sorry...I don't know what came over me. I apologize for putting you in this situation," I stammered out.

I jumped up and continued my work, furious with myself. As if anyone would ever want to kiss me! I am UGLY! I know what my scars look like. Who wants to kiss a mouth that has a huge gash running from it? Get your head straight, Mary. This marriage is a piece of paper and shelter. That is all.

I was far too consumed with my self-loathing to notice the sad look on my husband's face as he watched me make dinner for him. Eventually, he went back to his paper until I announced dinner was ready.

***

Hermione watched Snape as he made his way out of the kitchen to leave Grimmauld Place. No one asked him anymore to stay for dinner. His answer was always a firm "NO!" Hermione and McGonagall were the only ones at Grimmauld that knew the reason why: Mary Snape.

It had been so long since Hermione had been able to talk to her friend, and she was concerned. She made sure no one was in the hall when she leaned out of the adjoining room next to the front door and hissed at her professor.

"Professor!" she whispered. "In here!"

Snape obliged her, knowing her reason to speak to him would be about Mary.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" he asked impatiently.

"How is she?"

"Doing well, thank you. I'm sure she sends her warmest regards."

Hermione bit her lip. "Is there any way that I can visit?" she asked hopefully.

"Absolutely, not!" he hissed at her.

Hermione was taken aback. Why is he so angry? she thought.

Snape sighed. He hated having to explain things to children. "Miss Granger, you and Professor McGonagall are the only ones in this wretched domicile to have the privilege to know the more intimate details of my private life. My wish is for that situation to NOT change."

"Professor, I would never...!"

Snape raised a hand to silence the girl. "Miss Granger, I have relied on your abilities of secrecy and discretion for months now. I take it you are truly invested in Mary's future happiness?"

"I am!" she answered resolutely.

"Fine. I have the following chore for you, as tedious as it might be; however, someone must do it. I assume, being the know-it-all you are, you are familiar with Occlumency and Legilimency?"

Her eyes widened, and she began to start a lengthy answer to his question.

"Yes, yes," Snape interrupted her warily. "I don't need the text-book answer. I am perfectly aware of this branch of magic. However, there will come a time when Mr. Potter will need to learn and apply this discipline in order for...well," he stopped short, not sure about how much he wanted to divulge.

"Let me put it to you this way, Miss Granger. Can I count on you to make sure Potter actually works on his abilities to develop the discipline of Occlumency? Will you use your endless, badgering abilities to make sure he remembers it is vital that he practice and discipline his mind?"

"Of course, Professor. Don't worry. But, when...I mean, how will I know when he starts the lessons?"

Snape smiled wryly. "Don't concern yourself, Miss Granger. Believe me, you'll hear about it." And with that, he turned swiftly around and was gone.

***

I was searching through the endless volumes of books that walled his sitting room when Severus came back from his meeting.

"Granger sends her regards," he said dryly.

"Oh, thank you. I do miss her!" I exclaimed sadly.

"It has come to my attention that the Dark Lord and Potter have formed some sort of mental bond. It is far too dangerous to have Hermione, or anyone, know exactly where you are staying. I hope you won't object to having my sole company for a season?" he asked roughly.

"Of course not," I whispered.

I went to go sit down and settle in, but he grabbed my hands and led me to the sofa. The book fell to the ground in my shock, but I allowed him to guide me out of my trust for him. He sat us down, leaned in close and gently rubbed his nose against the scar on my face. I turned in revulsion, but his hand grasped the back of my neck and kept me close to him.

"Do I repulse you?" he whispered.

"No," I whispered brokenly. "I repulse myself."

"Mary, you are so beautiful," he murmured in my ear. "You've been so good to me."

He lightly traced my scar first with his fingers and then his lips. His breath was ragged, and I closed my eyes and allowed myself to become lost in his devotion. His fingers and lips trailed down to my lips. I opened my eyes and watched him kiss me ever so chastely on my lips.

He drew back and asked, "How was that?"

I nodded my head, my voice choked up and my eyes full of tears. I wanted to tell him that was the only virginity I had left in me and I was so grateful it had been him to take it. Instead, I burst into tears and fell onto his chest, sobbing. He held me and rocked me gently in his arms. Later, after I fell silent, he took my hand and led me to our bed. After we changed, we lay on the bed, the feeling so intense and powerful.

"May I hold your hand while we sleep?" he asked.

"Yes," I whispered.

I slept soundly that night, with the thrill of my husband's hand on mine and the memory of his kiss on my lips.

The next morning, over breakfast, we discussed what had transpired between us.

"It's so strange. All the intimate things are ruined, but the simplest things... Sorry, I can't explain," I said embarrassed at my futile attempt to explain my meaning.

"Perhaps intimate acts will not always be frightening," he mused quietly. "We could, perhaps, slowly have something in the future. Things take time. But, it's important for you to know there is more to you than your face and figure." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

I saw his face was lost in thought. He is such a different man when alone with me, I thought. Perhaps I could... well... grow to love him."