The End of Term

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o 47 o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The End of Term

The last week of term seemed to go so fast for Hermione. Because most of the students were going home for the holiday on Saturday, the professors had given huge amounts of homework in each lesson. And since Hermione assumed that she'd be away from the castle most of the holiday, she'd tried to do as much of her research needed for all of her essay assignments as possible, much to Severus' annoyance. On Thursday, Hermione came up to see him after the lower years' curfew bell tolled, her bag bulging with books and parchments.

"I lost track of time," Hermione said in apology as she dropped her bag on the floor by the sofa. She was exhausted, but wanted to see him anyway, even for just a little while.

"Good evening, Hermione. I was beginning to think I wouldn't have the pleasure of your company again tonight," Severus said politely, if not a bit coolly, with the blank mask expression she hated because she couldn't tell what he was thinking. Nevertheless, he was upset with her, but it couldn't be helped.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," Hermione apologized. "I have so much work to do, and I still have to find references to finish my Charms, Transfiguration, and Alchemy essays... What?"

"You'll have access to the library all you wish over the holiday," he said, his voice still polite but cool. "You would also have free access to the Malfoy library if you'd consent to accompany me there."

"Thank you," she replied as she picked up the book lying on the sofa and plopped down next to him, knowing that she'd never consent to spending any more time in that house than absolutely necessary. She read the titles of the books he had in front of him on the coffee table. Applications and Antipathogenic Properties of Herbaceous Magical Perennials was on top of the stack of books. She knew this book; it was a collective composite of the writings and theories of the ancient Greek physicians acquainted with the healing powers of all the plants that grow upon the earth including Agamede, Agnodice, Circe, Medea, Perimede... She read the titles of the other two books: The Works of Mercuriade: Crisis, Pestilent Fever and the Cure of Wounds and The Syrups, Potions and Concoctions of Jacqueline Félicie de Almania. She'd read Jacqueline Félicie de Almania's book years before for a Potions essay, however, the book on Mercuriade's works didn't appeal to her at the moment.

She looked at the book in her hands. The book didn't have the protective spell used on all the Hogwarts tomes. "Materia Medica: Composition of Curative Agents by Elizabeth Garrett Anderson," she read aloud and looked at Severus. "She was the first woman to gain qualification as a medical practitioner in Britain and the first female mayor in England. My mother greatly admires her. She developed the New Hospital for Women and created the London Medical School for Women."

"Yes," he stated, his eyes never leaving his book. "She was a witch, actually, but chose to help enable poor women, both Muggles and witches, to obtain medical help from qualified practitioners of their own sex. She was noted for her medicinal practice of using plants and plant extracts. Many of her herbal remedies are still used today."

"What are you reading?" Hermione asked, stifling a yawn.

He held the book so that she could see the title. "The Trotula: Diseases of Women, Treatments for Women, and Women's Cosmetics?"

"Are you reading these for the Médousa Potion?" she asked, opening the book she held to his first marker. She covered her mouth as she tried to stifle another yawn.

He inhaled deeply before answering her. "Yes – and no." He lowered the book to his lap, and Hermione looked at him expectantly. "I actually enjoy reading the works of the ancient physicians, alchemists and Healers. Agnodice was the first female physician to practice legally in the fourth century BC, Athens," he stated.

Hermione turned her body to face him. She put her arm on the back of the sofa and rested her head on it as she listened to him as he continued.

"Jacqueline Félicie de Almania, for example, was tried before the bishops of Paris and the Dean of the Medical Faculty at the University of Paris because she was able to cure patients where other doctors had failed and given up hope of the patient's recovery. She was banned from practicing medicine and threatened with excommunication, but went on to become one of wizardkind's most renowned Healers – one of the first to call herself a Healer rather than a physician."

"I had no idea you were so well versed on ancient women Healers," she said softly.

He lowered the book again and regarded her steadily, then turned to face her. "I'm well versed on a number of topics, Hermione, as well you know. I have a love of reading, not unlike your own, and practically have a photographic memory," he said, and she smiled. "I would have thought that evident by the collection of books in our home."

"Yes, your collection in the sitting room is quite impressive," she said, staring at him contentedly.

"Hardly the majority of my collection, I assure you," he said and smirked at her. "My dark tomes are in my study, my Potion books are in a closet in my lab, and my old or valuable books are safely stored in the small room upstairs."

"You have so many?" She tried to imagine bookshelves full of books in each space he mentioned, amazed by the revelation. "I bet your friends gave you books every Christmas," she mumbled through another yawn.

"Every Christmas and occasionally for my birthday," he said with a one-sided grin and rested his arm on the back of the sofa as well. "However, a good number of my books came from professional sources. I have all of Master Aramound Gruener's books, notes, and journals, which I told you about, as well as many books bequeathed to me from Albus Dumbledore's private collection. When Master Kirkwell Ogden passed away, he had bequeathed his personal books, notes, and journals to his latest apprentices, Master Raymond Terrell, Reginald, and me. I also received a number of books from the Dark Lord and from fellow Death Eaters..."

"Were they stolen?" she asked, assuming that the books Voldemort had given him were kept in his study.

"Which the Ministry has an accounting for, I assure you, but yes, many were stolen," he said smoothly. "Those the Ministry demanded I return – if there were any magical relatives to speak of and if the books were not on the restricted lists. However, I replicated all of the ones they wanted returned before relinquishing them to the Ministry."

Hermione nodded, knowing that Madam Pince replicated some of the old tomes for the students to use to protect the handmade ancient books in the hermetically sealed room off the Restricted Section. "So you could keep a copy," she said and yawned. She hated the fact that she was this tired; she really did want to stay with him and was enjoying this conversation quite a bit.

"Yes, so I could keep copies," he said smoothly, stroking her hair as he brushed it away from her face. The act sent a warm, tingling sensation through her. "Professor Dumbledore made sure I retained as many as possible after my first trial, and subsequently, Kingsley did the same after my second trial. It helps that I'm well known for my knowledge of the Dark Arts and am on good terms with many of the Aurors."

The soft timbre of his voice was so soothing. "So what are you looking for in the old potions?" she asked. "I thought that the ancient potions had been improved upon through the years."

He put the book down and then sat facing her so that their knees touched. He perched his arm on the back of the sofa so that his hand rested near the arm she had tucked under her head. "True, there have been many advancements in Potions over the centuries, but the ancient physicians, alchemists, and Healers developed a thorough knowledge of all manner of plants and herbs. Many of them are still used for the same purposes today..." His fingers stroked her arm as he talked, explaining the value of the ancient practices, and Hermione smiled, not wanting to interrupt him, mesmerized by his voice. "...when they were at their most potent and the best time to harvest them for maximum efficacy, as well as which herbs were best for which ailment..."

"Hermione?"

Fingers brushed her cheek, soft and warm on her skin.

"Hermione, wake up."

She opened her eyes to see Severus leaning over her. "Oh gods, I'm soo sorry. I must've dozed off."

"Yes you did," he said, his fingers stroking her jaw. "Come to bed."

"Yeah, I should," she said and stretched as she sat up. He rose easily and offered a hand to her, which she accepted. Now on her feet, she felt a bit more awake. "When are we leaving tomorrow?" she asked, stretching her arms, adding, "for the Burke's party?" while yawning.

"Our invitation states that our arrival should be promptly at five o'clock if we are leaving from Malfoy Manor."

She grimaced and her arms dropped to her sides.

"Or, if you wish, we can depart from the school gates at half past five," he suggested with a smirk.

"I'd prefer to leave from here," she stated as she reached down and picked up her bag.

"You can leave that here," he said, pointing to her bag. He stepped closer to her, his fingers once again stroking her cheek. "Stay with me."

Hermione looked up at him hesitantly and then down at her hands clutching the strap of her bag. "I'm exhausted, Severus."

"Hermione, I can see that you are." He cupped her face tenderly. "All I ask is that you stay with me. I won't force you to do anything you don't want."

She nodded and let him lead her to the ornate Headmaster's bedroom. She dropped her bag on the floor as he opened the wardrobe. He handed her a nightshirt. "It's all I have," he said and then smirked, "unless you wish to sleep à la natural."

"I appreciate the nightshirt," she replied and went into the bathroom to change. She'd never slept nude before, and was too self-conscious to. She shrunk the nightshirt before putting it on and realized that she got the length a bit too short but hadn't fixed the neckline since the three-button slit down the front opened to well past her breasts. She yawned as she did up the buttons, mentally scoffing, Too tired to shrink a nightshirt – you're pathetic, Hermione, at her transfiguration.

He was in bed when she returned. Hermione climbed in and drew the covers up to her chin. "You're sure that you're okay with this?" She was so tired; she'd be out as soon as she closed her eyes. She hoped he wouldn't be upset if she did.

"Silly girl," Severus purred silkily as he rolled onto his side and pulled her to him, then kissed her temple. "Yes, I'm 'okay with this'."

She snuggled into his embrace, finding that she fitted comfortably in his arms. "Good night, Severus."

"Good night, Hermione," he said softly and kissed her tenderly. She turned her head to kiss him back, their lips coming together in long, languid caresses, and she responded to him, enjoying the sensual kiss. His lips sucked gently on her bottom lip, releasing it slowly, and she smiled, lifting up to press hers firmly on his. His kiss became firmer, not demanding, but passionate, and she parted her lips, inviting him in. Kissing him like this was actually making her feel much more awake, and not just her mind.

He shifted, leaning over her, and she rolled so she lay on her back under him. As his hand slid up her side, gently caressing her, she slid her hands up his back and down to his bum, appreciative of the lean muscled tone of his body. He smiled against her lips before slowly kissing his way down her jaw to her neck and chest. He unfastened the front of the nightshirt, spreading it wide open, and his hand cupped one of her breasts as his mouth covered the other. "That's it, Hermione, feel," he said smoothly, his voice like chocolate silk and his breath warm on her skin.

She rolled her head back as he suckled gently at her breast, his lips pulling slightly on her nipple. His hand began to roam up her thigh, pushing the nightshirt up in its path. Her breath caught as his finger delved into her. His finger withdrew slowly, gently stroking up to her clitoris and back repeatedly. The long sensual movement and the gentle way he savored her breast increased Hermione's need to have more. She arched her back, thrusting her breast against his mouth and pushing her groin down on his hand. "Oh, gods, Severus..."

He chuckled as he pushed a knee between her legs, and she spread open for him, wanting more than anything what she knew was coming next. He shifted to position himself, lowering himself to her. She tugged at his nightshirt, eager to feel his skin on hers. His penis poked at her as he helped her pull off his nightshirt.

"Eager little thing," he purred. "I thought you were tired."

"I want you," she gasped as he pressed at her entrance, his hand cupping her hip. He kissed her passionately as he entered her, slowly filling her. She arched her back, meeting his thrust with each stroke, closing her eyes to the sensations. His strokes became more urgent, and he leaned up, his fingers stroking her, pushing her over the edge into pure bliss. His movements quickened and then stilled, thrusting deeply inside her as he came.

They stayed like that for several heartbeats, Severus leaning over her on both arms and buried inside her. Slowly he withdrew and lay down next to her, holding her close. "Thank you," he murmured softly.

"Err, you're welcome?" she murmured uncertainly in reply, thinking she should be the one thanking him, not the other way around. She lay there for a while, comfortable in his arms, just listening to him breathe until his breathing took on a soft snore before sleep finally took her.

~*~

Saturday, Hermione woke up slowly and carefully eased away from Severus, so as not to wake him, to use the loo. Severus was up and dressing when she returned. He walked over and kissed her. "We overslept. I've asked Mispy to bring you your clothes," he said and walked out of the room.

Mispy arrived a second later and carefully lay on the bed what she'd selected for Hermione to wear. "Mispy brings mistress what I's sees mistress wears when mistress does not haves lessons," she said and stood, looking at Hermione expectantly. "Does mistress needs anything else?"

Hermione asked for her toothbrush and paste, and the elf smiled at her. Mispy was gone and back in seconds with Hermione's toiletry bag. "Thank you, Mispy."

The elf bowed and left, and Hermione hurriedly dressed to go to breakfast.

At breakfast, Severus made an announcement: a few mountain trolls had damaged one of the railway bridges for the Hogwarts Express, and so the train had been rescheduled to leave on Sunday, which made many of the students groan or mumble in dismay.

When the Daily Prophet arrived, there were two photographs of the wizards repairing the damage to the bridge and another showing several wizards standing around four trolls who were bound in magical ropes.

"Oh, Merlin's beard – they think they'll have that fixed by tomorrow morning?" Wendlynne exclaimed in shock, her hands dropping to the table as she looked up at her friends.

Alestra flipped the page. "The article says there are thirty wizards repairing the bridge," she stated, reading aloud, "'Marline Baden of the Department of Magical Transportation stated early this morning that the Ministry has the situation well in hand, and they are in the process of making temporary repairs to the bridge to allow the Hogwarts Express to operate two runs tomorrow. 'The repairs will hold,' Miss Baden assured this reporter, 'until the stonemasons can build a more permanent...'" She lowered her copy of the paper and looked up too. "They should have it sorted out by tonight."

"Circe, I hope so!" Veronica said, still leaning toward Alestra so she could read the article. "It says that it took twenty-three wizards to subdue the four mountain trolls!"

"And just think, my blockhead brother, Harry, and Hermione managed to subdue one all by themselves their first year at school," Ginny said with a smirk, reaching for the marmalade. "So, Hermione, want to toss the Quaffle with us today?"

Sunita and Veronica looked up in shock, and Hermione groaned inwardly when she saw that Sunita's star-struck-gobsmacked-guppy expression was back. "You – the three of you – a-a mountain troll? In your first year? At eleven!" the dark-haired girl stammered, her dark eyes huge. "I thought that was an exaggeration?"

"Nope, Sunita, that one is an actual fact. Harry and Ron saved Hermione from a fully grown mountain troll in the girls' loo their first year of school," Ginny said with a proud smile as Sunita stared at Hermione with awestruck amazement.

Truth was, it made Hermione a bit uncomfortable, and she was relieved when Ginny asked again, "So, since we're here for another day, how about it? Who's up for tossing the Quaffle? Veronica, you can ask Jeremy; Alestra can ask Thornton, and it looks like Blake Blume and Lawrence Carlin are headed this way."

Beside the girls, Bryan Randell, Wilber Wevernthrall, Jack Sloper and Ernie Coppersmith all turned in their seats, smiling. "We're on for a game," Jack said, his enthusiasm echoed by his friends as Blake and Lawrence stopped right behind Hermione.

"So, does that mean that we're invited, too?" Blake asked, grinning. "Hiya, Hermione. I was going to ask if you had time today to work on our Egyptian hieratic and demotic translations, but if you're going to be out on the pitch," he said and indicted Lawrence with his thumb, "we'd love to go."

Hermione hung her head, shaking it with her eyes closed and then looked up at the expectant faces around her. "Okay, sure. Why not. We can spend the morning out on the pitch and still have all afternoon to..."

"...revise in the library," Ginny and Alestra finished for her.

Hermione gave her friends an annoyed curl of her mouth. "Very funny."

However, when they all arrived at the Quidditch pitch, Hermione had tried to bow out and just watch her friends play, which made Blake somewhat concerned. "She hates flying," Ginny said casually.

Blake nodded in understanding. "Don't blame you. The school brooms are sometimes temperamental, and they're not very responsive because they're so old and well used," he said as he handed Hermione his broom. "Here, I'll use one of the school's Cleansweeps."

"I shouldn't," Hermione protested, trying to hand him back his sleek broom. It looked like Harry's old Nimbus 2000, only the twigs were so well aligned, the handle so nicely carved and polished that she knew it would go as fast as his Firebolt and that thought alone frightened her.

"No, it's fine," Blake insisted and explained that his Nimbus 3000 was a reliable broom and good for one-handed maneuvering. "Lawrence and I'll fly next to you. Just shout if you need help," he persisted. "Besides, the Headmaster will kill me if anything happens to you."

Hermione laughed softly. "Probably," she said.

"Probably, hell – definitely!" Lawrence exclaimed. "Believe me, we aren't letting anything happen to you."

Hermione scowled as several of her friends burst out laughing. "Word's out, I'm afraid," Bryan Randell stated. "The Headmaster is really protective towards you."

"...and no one had better do anything that gets you hurt," Wilber Wevernthrall added.

"...or else you'll wish he gave you cleaning every cauldron in the school as a detention!" Ernie Coppersmith finished.

"Cauldrons! Blimey, he had me scrubbing the loos like a house-elf for a month!" Blake exclaimed, making everyone laugh.

"I'm sorry about that Blake, really," Hermione said, but he brushed it off with a smile. "All right, I'll fly. But I'm not really good at sports."

The other girls all started laughing again.

"You do well enough at home," Ginny stated, kicking easily off the ground on her broom with the Quaffle tucked under her arm.

"You'll do fine, trust me," Blake said as she mounted his broom.

The Nimbus vibrated in anticipation, making Hermione nervous. Blake nodded encouragingly. "Go on. It's really responsive. All you have to do is keep your balance over the handle."

She swallowed, trying to ignore the energy of the magic. This broom was stronger than Ron's, she could tell. Blake and Lawrence both waited patiently until Hermione kicked off and then followed her up. Instead of shooting up as she'd expected, the broom seemed to read her thoughts and rose smoothly until she leaned back, holding her arms extended to level off. She held back at first, but after a while, Hermione was pleasantly surprised at how well Blake's broom responded to her every move. True to their word, the boys stayed close to her, and eventually she relaxed enough to join in the game. By the time they landed, she had to admit that the morning spent on the Quidditch pitch hadn't turned out as badly as she'd anticipated.

Hermione thanked Blake for the use of his broom and hurried to the library to work on her essays. Hermione received a note from Severus that afternoon as she and Blake worked on their Ancient Runes translations.

Hermione,

Severus

When she arrived in Severus' office, he asked her to follow him up to his room. The house-elf, Elbee, who had brought Hermione her robes, was standing in the middle of the room, waiting. The strapless, dark green velvet robes with the gold underskirt were laid out carefully on the bed. "Ifs you disrobes now, Elbee is to dresses you."

Hermione turned to Severus. "Er, do you mind? I, er... I feel self-conscious doing this in front of you," she said to him, awkwardly holding the black knickers and hose.

He crossed his arms with an amused smirk. "I've seen you in your knickers before, Hermione – and a lot less."

"It's not the same – you're watching me!" she implored as she stormed off to the bathroom. She knew it was childish, being so uncomfortable with him staring at her, but she'd never been watched while dressing before, and it was really unnerving. Even the girls in the dorm turned their backs when they were dressing. When she came back, he was still standing next to the bed. She scowled at him, timidly covering her breasts, standing in only her knickers and hose. "Do you have to stare?" His gaze was practically hungry as his eyes swept down her body.

He moved to stand behind her, holding a Victorian corset, saying, "You'll want to wear this."

"Excuse me?" she asked, staring at the garment, hoping he was kidding. She'd never worn one before, but the images of women sucking in their breaths, making slight grimaces as the corset was being laced up, flashed in her mind.

"You'll be more comfortable tonight if you wear this," he said, holding the corset in front of her with both hands.

Hermione turned so that she faced him. "You expect me to wear that?" Surely it wasn't necessary.

"Yes," he said, taking hold of her shoulders and turning her around.

As he positioned the corset in place, she felt the rigid boning with her fingers as she protested, "It won't fit under the dress."

"Yes it will," he said with finality that brooked no more argument. Severus pulled the lacing so tight it was strangling the air from her.

"I can't breathe," she complained.

"That's the point. It has to be tight or you'll never get your dress on over it."

She tried to pick up the dark green robes, but the corset prevented her from bending. Elbee made them float over her head as she asked Hermione to raise her arms, and the dress slipped down her body. Severus fastened up all the buttons on the back of the dress for her, his fingers sending a shiver down her spine. He kissed her shoulder after he'd fastened the last one, his lips sending a delightful shiver down her spine.

She turned to look at him, and his lips quirked into a small smile. She watched him walk to the wardrobe, presumably to change himself, as the elf then placed a stool behind Hermione. "Please sits, Miss," she asked. The corset made Hermione sit ramrod straight as the elf fixed her hair. Behind her, she could hear Severus moving about, her mind imagining him changing his clothes. Hermione soon realized that if she didn't fight the corset and maintained proper posture, it wasn't really all that uncomfortable, although she had to take shallow breaths. When Elbee moved in front of her to apply her makeup, she heard Severus leave the room. Finally, the elf helped Hermione with the Georgian style malachite jewelry.

Mrs. Malfoy's malachite necklace lay heavily around the base of her neck, but the matching earrings were charmed so they wouldn't tug on her earlobes. After pulling on the long, black gloves, Elbee helped her with the catch of the thick bracelet.

Severus returned, striking in his black tuxedo frockcoat and trousers, and picked up their cloaks off the foot of the bed. "You look lovely," he said as she placed a hand on her stomach and took in her appearance in the mirrors on the wardrobe doors.

The strapless, velvet robes were dark enough to have a bit of a black sheen, but they wouldn't have been her first choice. The color was good for her, and the robes looked expensive... Definitely a good reflection on the Malfoys – unless everyone will think Severus spent this much on me?

His eyebrow arched as he asked, "Ready?"

She nodded, murmuring, "Yes," and turned to accept her cloak.

"Let's go," he said, indicating the door.

~*~

The Burke's house was a four-story, brick Victorian, Gothic Revival house, painted white, with the second and third floors showing Italian Renaissance influence. The house had several towers, bay windows, carved stonework, fancy shingles, iron railings, and had balconies on most of the second floor windows. Many of the windows were decorated with stained glass. The inside of the house was quite opulent: every window had heavy damask curtains in dark colors, floral wallpaper above the white wainscoting, ornate Chinese or Persian rugs in rich, dark colors on every floor and most of the rooms were filled with well made over-stuffed furniture with intricately carved tables set in various corners, with lovely antique vases and figurines.

Mrs. Malfoy had swooped down on Hermione the moment she and Severus entered the formal entry hall, and she and Mr. Malfoy had paraded her around as they introduced her to all their friends. Severus, apparently amused, had simply followed them, greeting everyone Hermione met with a formal politeness. Dinner had consisted of ten courses and lasted a good three hours of absolutely inane conversation as a quartet had played softly in the background.

Following dinner, everyone went into the drawing room to listen to classical music. However, the padded wooden chair was anything but comfortable, and Hermione noticed that every woman in the room had sat with their backs straight, stiff and proper with their hands resting demurely in their laps, which she'd tried to do even though she'd wished she could slouch like the men. The first performance was a very thin wizard on the Pianoforte. After two pieces, a woman who played a harp accompanied him for several pieces, and then a dark-haired girl on the flute joined them for several more. The dark-haired girl left, to be replaced by a Soprano who, after a long arietta, sang a lengthy duet with a robust tenor...

It had been excruciating having to sit for so long. Hermione realized just how thoughtful Severus had been to insist on her wearing the corset since it helped her maintain her posture and supported her, keeping her back from hurting, although her bum had been numb by the time the concert was over.

Afterwards, the men had retired to the library for cigars and brandy, and the women had gathered in a parlor for idle chatter and to sip on champagne. Mrs. Malfoy had escorted Hermione around the room as she flitted from one group of ladies to another.

By the time Severus had escorted Hermione back to the castle, she had been utterly exhausted as well as quite inebriated. Severus had helped her disrobe and remove the corset, but she'd still felt a sudden heady rush as if her brain had been denied oxygen all evening. She'd nearly tumbled, almost fainting, if Severus hadn't caught her and carried her to the bed. She'd fallen asleep as soon as her head had sunk into the pillow and her back stretched out on the mattress.

*

Severus watched Hermione stretch out with an appreciative smirk that faded as her face relaxed into sleep. He stood there, looking at her, staring at her body with regret. He felt disappointed and would have to go unsatisfied, although he hoped that she wouldn't involuntarily vomit.

Severus left his room to get Hermione a Hangover Potion for the morning. Narcissa had chided him for not giving Hermione an Inebriation-inhibiting Potion, but he hadn't known that Hermione would imbibe so much champagne. Fortunately, she had been able to maintain proper decorum, which had impressed him.

In fact, she'd performed admirably all evening. Her manners in the severely formal setting were more than adequate, but then the careful dance of etiquette carried on by the upper echelons of wizarding elite was little more than a subtle, intricately stylish and fastidious ceremony still reminiscent of the high bourgeoisie. The social rules of conduct Severus abhorred but adhered to in certain circles.

He still remembered his first invitation to the Burke's annual Christmas party. It was right after his skills with obscure potions and ancient spells had assisted Narcissa in conceiving where the Healers had failed: a combination of two obscure but potent fertility potions taken precisely eleven days before her menstrual period and then repeated three days after that, followed by two questionable potions of his own devising (one given her and the other to Lucius on the day the Fertility-detection charm glowed a deep pink) and then an ancient potion rich in folic acid, calcium and iron to give the developing fetus the nutrients it needed once conception was confirmed. He'd lived in the manor throughout the pregnancy, carefully preparing whatever potions Narcissa required. Nevertheless, pregnancy had been quite hard on Narcissa, but with Severus' potions, she managed to carry Draco to full term. Both Lucius and Narcissa were eternally grateful. His reward had been his introduction into the social elite and an excruciating, unbelieving tedious evening of refined social decorum, propriety and gentlemanly conduct.

Although he'd learned some of the fundamentals of wizarding etiquette from his Slytherin classmates, Severus' natural tendency toward observation and his reserved nature had lent well in the formal setting, and he'd managed to pick up on the rules well enough to pass. Still, he'd hated it, even though he'd been able to master the art of faking it. Severus had only felt the need to attend the Burke's party upon Narcissa's insistence – for Hermione's benefit.

Even after the Dark Lord's first fall, members of the social elite would, on occasion, come to Severus when they wanted something, some potion that was morally ambiguous or with assistance with some Dark artifact, and wished discretion. A few of the families who escaped persecution, especially those who'd suffered the Dark Lord's displeasure on occasion, had likewise sought his aide conceiving their sons and heirs. It had earned him quite a bit of gold over the years as well as cementing his acceptance among the elite. Being Head of Slytherin had also helped his position among the elite as did his appointment as Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Once back in his room, Severus stripped and slid into bed beside Hermione, hoping that she'd be amorous after taking the Hangover Potion in the morning.

~H~

Hermione woke slowly with a pounding headache, cotton-mouthed and once again unsure as to where she was. Even the few rays of extremely bright light that penetrated narrow spaces between the drapes hurt her eyes, making her groan softly. Unfortunately, and to her dismay, the sound of her own moan increased the throbbing pain in her head. She rolled over, colliding with a firm, yet immoveable object.

The bed dipped as Severus rose from the bed, his feet making loud slapping noises to her overly sensitive ears.

He came back to her side of the bed and knelt over her. "Hermione," he said softly, urging her to turn toward him. "Drink this. It will help."

Reluctantly she rolled toward him, squinting at the bright light, and covered her eyes with one arm. "Wha' is it?"

"Hangover Potion," he said, his voice very low.

She tried to nod, but the movement hurt. He supported her head with one hand, tipping the lip of a vial to her lips. Hermione swallowed the potion and lay back on the bed, covering her eyes with her arm again. She closed her eyes, waiting for the potion to work. When she opened her eyes, a moment later, Severus was stretched out on his side of the bed watching her. She hadn't even realized he'd moved. "Thank you," she mumbled, feeling much better.

"You're welcome," he said as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. He leaned down as if to kiss her, and she quickly covered her mouth with her hand.

"Bathroom. Teeth," she uttered as she scrambled from the bed.

Severus sighed and fell back onto the bed with a groan.

She scurried in to brush her teeth, calling out, "What time is it?"

"About a quarter to ten, I suppose," he shouted back.

"Ten?! But that means that everyone is leaving!" she screeched, grabbing a black, terrycloth dressing robe off the hook by the door.

"Minerva and Hagrid have things well under control," he growled from the bedroom.

She moved to stand in the doorway as she belted the dressing robe in place. The large, black robe was so long, it pooled at her feet. "But I haven't been able to say goodbye to my friends!"

He rolled over on to his side to look at her. "You'll be seeing them in four days."

"Not Ginny – Alestra, Wendlynne, Veronica, and Sunita! I wanted to ask them for their addresses," she said, looking for her dress. "You should've woken me!"

"You needed to sleep. Besides, I can get you their addresses from the school registry," he said, sitting up. "Hermione, what are you looking for?"

"My robes and shoes," she replied.

"In the wardrobe. Your things are in the left side," he stated, pointing at the doors.

She yanked the door open... and gasped. All her clothes were hanging up on hangers on the bar, her cloak and camel opera coat were both on sturdy wooden hangers on the hook, and her shoes were lined up on the shoe rack... She pulled open the top drawer and saw all her undergarments folded neatly within... "What is this?"

Severus was sitting on the bed, leaning comfortably against the headboard, nude. "I had the house-elves bring your things here this morning," he said smoothly.

"Without asking me?" she shrieked, trying to avoid staring at his erection or his smug expression.

"As per our agreement, remember?" He raised his eyebrow, and one side of his mouth pulled back, making a crooked smile. "Or must I spell it out for you?"

Hermione gaped at him in disbelief at his presumptuousness.

His smile faded, and he turned, leaning on his elbow so he faced her. "We are spending the afternoon of Christmas Eve with my great-grandfather followed by what I predict will be an awkward evening at Potter's. You insisted on sleeping at Potter's, which, by the way, Ginevra has extended her invitation and from her assurances, is happy to have us. So that means I will have to endure Christmas day with both Potter and the Weasley clan, at your insistence, until we leave for Malfoy Manor at five o'clock. You will then spend Christmas night and New Years Eve with me at the Manor, in my rooms, although I suspect Narcissa will expect us to remain for Boxing Day. So for the next few days, we shall be staying here, since I have end of term business with the staff and a meeting with the school governors on Monday. The rest of the holiday, with the exception of New Years eve, we may either stay here or reside at our home in Manchester."

"Manchester?" she asked, still running over his plans for the holiday – their plans – ones they'd made... Then she remembered their argument. "You're going to hold me to it – all of it." She was going to be in staying at the Manor... The memory of her torture in their drawing room asserted itself and she fought to suppress it. It will be all right, it will be, it has to be...

He smirked at her. "Of course."

Hermione needed to sit down, but the only available place was either the narrow padded bench beside the bed or the upholstered bench at the foot, unless she crawled back up onto the bed with him. She fought back the irrational fear that threatened to break free, telling herself over and over that Severus promised that she'd be unharmed – a welcomed guest in the manor. She forced herself to remember the lunch she'd had with Mr. Malfoy, his polite manner and assurances that he wanted to amend his association with her.

Severus chuckled at her as he shook his head, then rolled off the bed and walked into the bathroom. She watched him go, still angry at his impertinence.

But was he really being all that impertinent? Analyzing it logically... Sure, he had moved her things without telling her or talking about it – he had simply assumed that it would be okay. But really there was no point in going back to the dorm; they were going to be staying together over the holiday anyway, that was the agreement, and with the girls not there – she would just be sleeping in an empty room. Therefore, she grudgingly admitted to herself, it made sense for her clothes to be here – at least for the duration of the holiday.

Pushing aside her anger, she dressed quickly and was pulling on her boots when he returned.

He opened his side of the wardrobe and began pulling out his clothes. "We'll have breakfast as soon as I'm dressed," he said casually.

"I'm not really hungry," she said, pushing past him, still hoping irrationally that she'd catch her friends before the train departed, although she knew it was futile. Her trunk was sitting on the floor next to the stairs in the sitting room. Suddenly, a house-elf appeared, making Hermione jump.

"Kirch did not means to startles mistress," he said, wringing his hands as he bowed to her. "Kirch will punishes his self most severely for startling mistress."

"No, no, don't harm yourself," Hermione said, and the elf looked up at her, his ears sagging and his brows knit in confusion. "I wasn't expecting you, that's all. Why are you here?"

Kirch straightened, his hands still clasped together tightly as he stared at her. "Kirch is to puts away mistress' things, but Kirch does not knows where mistress wants them. Kirsch did not know if mistress wants her books to be put on the shelfs or in the wardrobe."

"It's only for a few days, Kirch," Hermione said, smiling at the elf. "You can leave my trunk here..." The elf's forehead wrinkled in confusion again. "Or maybe just place it somewhere in the bedroom out of the way?" If there is an out of the way place. "Maybe by the window?"

Kirch smiled. He grasped the handle of her trunk and vanished, taking the trunk with him as Severus entered the room.

"So shall we send for breakfast?"

"I want to go to Hogsmeade," she stated as she looked up at the clock on the mantelpiece, and her hopes sunk. It was now five minutes after ten. The train had already left.

"The Hogwarts Express has already departed," he said, after making a cursory glance at the clock. "Unless you wanted to have breakfast in town or do some shopping?"

She didn't really need the confirmation; she was already well aware of the fact. Disappointed that she'd missed her friends' departure, she considered what she should do with her day, missing Severus' question. I suppose I could go to the library and get a head start on my essays... Or I could read.

"If you do, I can send a message right now to Aurors Robert MacNaughton and Aaron Brodes and request that they remain in Hogsmeade while you shop," Severus said as she stared at the shelves in the room, deep in thought.

"Shopping?" she mumbled, surprised by the offer and considering the option. I could shop for Christmas gifts. However, she hated the idea of shopping for a suitable Christmas gift for Severus or Mr. Prince with him hovering over her and the Aurors standing guard.

"I will inform Reginald of my change of plans," he stated casually.

Hermione shook her head. "No." I could look through the magical catalogues and order what I want by owl post. Alestra, Wendlynne, and Veronica have a stack of them in the dorm room, and Ginny had the latest international catalogue from Queerditch Quality Quidditch Quarter in her trunk. She looked up at him, just realizing what he'd said. However, seeing him scowl confused her, and she tilted her head. "You had plans with Professor Reynolds?"

"Of course," he said stiffly. "Since most of the students are going home for the holidays, it leaves us plenty of time to work on the missing ingredient."

Hermione smiled. There was one more ingredient that they had yet to identify. "Maybe I can help?"

Severus shrugged noncommittally. "We are going over the list of all the possible seeds and calculating their probability in the quantity specified in the directions. You'll be bored in half an hour."

She crossed her arms defiantly. "Professors Vector and Newton both say I'll pass my N.E.W.T.s in Arithmancy and Alchemy, respectively, with Outstandings, even if I took them now. They happen to be two of my favorite subjects, and I do not find probability equations boring."

Severus chuckled softly. "I'm well aware of what your professors say about you, Hermione; they all extol your superior intellect, enthusiasm, and natural ability. I, myself, know your academic abilities as I had you as a student for six years."

"I helped solve the identity for the Bluepike crab roe and the phoenix tears," she pointed out, hating to be told that she lacked knowledge on any subject.

Severus raised his eyebrow, and his mouth twitched, although not enough for her to call it a smile. "However, there is so much more to calculating out the probability of an ingredient in a potion," he said as he tilted his head and regarded her steadily. "You must know and understand how an ingredient reacts, its innate properties, have a natural feeling for the interaction between multiple ingredients, and how variances such as temperature, for example, can change that reaction or interaction. Even the size and type of cauldron can make a huge difference."

She pondered what he was saying. "But it's a matter of deduction," she started to say, stopping when his lips drew back even further. "And I thought it called for a standard size three pewter cauldron."

A deep chuckle escaped his throat. He looked at her thoughtfully. "Follow me." She followed him down to his office. He opened a drawer and pulled out a roll of parchment.

Hermione looked up at him expectantly.

"This is the list that Reginald and I are considering. It's every seed that we know of which is used in potions." He handed her the roll. "Go to the library and see if you can find any seed we might have missed."

Hermione accepted the roll and smiled. "I'll do my best."

He smiled back at her. "I know you will."

"Hermione," he said as she reached the door. Something in his tone made her turn around and look at him. He was still standing by his desk, his fingers splayed slightly on a pile of books on the corner of it. He looked as if he was about to say something.

"Yes?" she prompted, thinking that he might have forgotten to give her more instruction. Severus frowned a little, but then straightened.

"I'm... sorry that you missed your chance to say goodbye to your friends," he said. Then, he cleared his throat, and his more familiar half-scowl returned, "I'll see you in the Great Hall for lunch. Don't be late."

~ T B C ~>

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Author's notes:

Just for fun; these women are real:

Agamede, Agnodice, Circe, Medea, Perimede are all ancient Greek women physicians: and are both legendary and mythological Greek women.

Mercuriade was a Medieval Italian physician, surgeon, and medical author in the 14th century. She is one of the few woman physicians known from the middle ages. She was the author of several medical works on "Crisis", on "Pestilent Fever", and of "The Cure of Wounds". The book I mentioned in the chapter, the composite of her works, however, I made up, as well as the fact that she was a witch.

What Hermione and Severus said about Elizabeth Garrett Anderson is fact. However, her being a witch was my own addition for the story.

What Severus said about Agnodice is a fact. The things mentioned about Jacqueline Félicie de Almania is also fact, well with the exception of her treating 'wizardkind', I added that bit for the story. The book I credited her writing is also my invention.

Trotula was another Medieval woman physician, although little is known of Trotula's life, and it's not known exactly when Trotula lived. According to Wikipedia, Diseases of Women, Treatments for Women, and Women's Cosmetics are usually referred to collectively as The Trotula. However, there is no evidence that Diseases of Women and Women's Cosmetics were actually written by Trotula; these two texts circulated anonymously until they were combined with Treatments for Women sometime in the thirteenth century. However, Treatments for Women bears Trotula's name.

Thank you also to Jay for my beautiful banner. I really love it!