The Burning Pen

A New Beginning
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 61

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 61 ~ Heading for Hogwarts

Snape did several sets as Hermione walked on the treadmill, watching his shoulder blades bunch and flex. He had lifted her so easily. She flushed a bit as her mind started to drift toward the more intimate possibilities such strength could offer sexually.

”Gods,” Hermione said under her breath, forcing the naughty thoughts out of her head.

At the moment, the wizard ended his sets and turned to look at her.

”I think I’ll take a turn on the treadmill myself,” he said to the witch.

Hermione watched as Snape walked to the treadmill next to hers, stepped over it, then hopped up on her treadmill, gripping the handlebars around her and trapping her between his arms.

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked him, stopping.

”Going for a walk with you,” he purred and he started walking so Hermione slid into him. The witch gasped as he wrapped his arms around her.

”Severus!” she said, wriggling, the wizard enjoying the wriggles very much.

”That’s my name,” he said silkily, stepping off the treadmill, taking the witch with him, still held against his body.

”I’m supposed to be working out,” Hermione said as the wizard looked down at her, arching an eyebrow suggestively. “I can’t work out this way.”

”I beg to differ. There are a number of ways to work out,” he replied, “In fact, I have an excellent regime in mind to strengthen your lips.”

Then the wizard kissed her gently, once again working his magic on Hermione who found herself falling under his spell, the sensuous motion of his lips against hers once again becoming the point of a delicious, flowing pleasure. She sighed against his mouth and he tightened his hold on her, reveling in the softness of her body against his own, the acceptance and promise in her kiss.

They kissed this way for about three minutes, intoxicated with each other, the only reality, their connection, the rest of the world fuzzing out, leaving only the couple at the center, the core of all existence. Finally, Snape broke the kiss, his eyes heated as he looked down at Hermione, whose eyes were half-lidded as she gazed up at him from between her lashes.

”You certainly can kiss, Severus,” she breathed.

“That is because I finally have a witch I can kiss,” he said back to her, “A witch that is willing to accept me and return my affection . . . although I have to chase her down and trap her in compromising positions in order to take advantage of that fact,” he added.

Hermione smiled at him.

”That’s the fun of it, the chase,” she said softly.

Snape sobered.

”I believe the ‘capture’ is even more compelling,” he replied, “And I want to capture you, witch. How long do you intend to run from me over hill and dale and work site?”

Hermione blushed.

“Well, I’m slowing down . . . a little,” she said tremulously, “but it’s kind of frightening when it feels as if there’s a wolf on my heels.”

Snape smirked at her.

”A big, bad wolf,” he purred, “Anxious to eat you up from head to toe.”

Hermione flushed again, then gently pushed away from him, the wizard letting her go. He did feel a bit like a wolf. Snape knew he was pressuring her, but he was a man . . . it was nature. How else was he to court the witch except to let her know how much he desired her? This was hard enough as it was. How much was too much? What was too little? Where was the middle ground?

Prostitutes were so much easier. They already knew what he wanted and gave it to him, for a price of course.

Hermione knew too, but she was going to make him work for it. And that was compelling as well. She was right, the chase was heady. The capture would be worth it in the end.

Well, now was a good time to earn a few more brownie points with the witch.

”I spoke to Bartleby today concerning Mr. Dormers,” he said to the witch, who had been looking at the floor. She looked up at him.

”About Rod?” she asked.

Snape bit back a snarky reply. Ooh, he hated responses like that. Responses that required one to repeat what’s already been said. It was a pet peeve with the wizard. But, this was Hermione, so he swallowed it down.

“Yes. I solved his little money problem,” the wizard said.

Hermione brightened.

“You gave him money, Severus?” she asked him.

Snape scowled.

“Of course I didn’t ‘give’ him money. I never ‘give’ anyone money without some kind of compensation,” he snarked, “And I certainly wouldn’t treat Mr. Dormers as a charity case at any rate. It’s demeaning. The boy has to earn his way to feel any worth.”

Hermione scowled back at him.

”Well, you said you solved his money problem. If you didn’t give him any money, then how did you solve anything?” she asked him, her hands on her hips now.

“He is now in my employ,” Snape replied, “Bartleby sent him the paperwork and a signing bonus. He has an account at Gringotts now.”

”A signing bonus?” Hermione said, once more irritating the wizard.

”Yes,” he said tightly, “He is going to be a valuable employee for Sparse Venues. Giving him a bonus is only showing the company’s appreciation of his acceptance of employment and creating incentive to make him want to stay in its employ. In other words, it’s simply good business.”

“Oh. Good business. Is that another word for ‘bribery?’” Hermione asked him.

”Perhaps in lower browed circles,” the wizard admitted, “But still it is good business.”

He folded his arms across his chest in finality as Hermione pursed her lips at him.

Now, Hermione knew good and well that Severus didn’t have to bribe Rod into accepting the job. The boy had already accepted it verbally. The wizard was once again trying to cover up his act of kindness with cold logic.

It didn’t work. Not on Hermione at least.

Hermione smiled at him, shaking her head.

”You really are wonderful, Severus,” she said softly, walking up to him and this time placing her arms around his neck and drawing him down into another kiss, even sweeter than the first they shared.

Snape accepted the kiss enthusiastically, thinking whoever said “Money couldn’t buy happiness” had no idea what he was talking about.

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Hermione and Snape spent about an hour in the exercise room snogging on the exercise bench before the witch finally departed, leaving the wizard to finish his work out. He applied himself to his regime quite ardently, having the added impetus of sexual frustration to power him along. But he was (almost) the perfect gentleman during the kissing session, though the gods knew he wanted to take the witch to the mats.

It wasn’t the most romantic notion, but there it was.

Hermione had also convinced him to give her tomorrow afternoon off so she could go to Hogsmeade and buy a gown for the dance.

”I have to look nice,” she said to the grumbling wizard. “And the dance is this Friday.”

Snape really did keep work life and personal life separate for the most part, and Hermione was hard put to get him to let her have an afternoon off, particularly since she was about to take a two week vacation.

”Can’t you order it by owl?” he asked the witch.

Eventually he gave in however, making references to her “snogging the boss” to get her way and how Bartleby was right about how employee/employer interactions were nothing but trouble.

Hermione snogged him to silence.

As far as Snape was concerned, there was no better way for her to shut him up. He’d have to remember the witch’s response to him grumbling. He was sure it would come in handy.

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The week passed quickly for the couple, although on Wednesday Hermione and Severus had a big row when she found out he’d docked her pay for her afternoon off. They were in her apartment when she got the news.

”You didn’t work, so you don’t get paid,” he said snarkily.

”But I’m on SALARY!” Hermione yelled at him, then proceeded to beat him up with a sofa cushion.

Snape loved it, especially tackling her and taking her down to the sofa. Hermione squirmed under him for a minute or two, the wizard lying halfway on top of her full weight until she stopped.

”I had no idea you were abusive,” he said to the witch silkily, “I fear I am going to be a ‘battered boyfriend.’”

“A battered boss!” she seethed up at him. “Now you give me back my pay, you git!”

They tussled a bit more until Severus let her think she’d pushed him off of her.

Now that had been fun, and Hermione had a temper. Snape found he liked that.

Very much.

Soon Friday rolled around and Snape picked Hermione up from her apartment at six-thirty. They had to arrive early.

When the witch opened the door, she was wearing a large, voluminous traveling cloak that showed nothing of what she was wearing underneath. Snape was immaculate in black dress robes with embroidered serpents that were only visible when the light hit the fabric just right. There was an amazing amount of buttons. He wore a winter cloak over his garb.

The wizard looked down his nose at the witch’s attire.

”Prepared for your ‘grand entrance’ I see,” he purred at her.

“Yes, I am,” Hermione agreed with a smile.

But what he could see of her looked lovely. She wore a hint of lipstick, mascara and rouge. Her makeup was understated, but very nicely applied. Her hair was swept up in an elegant roll held in place with an emerald green decorative comb, tendrils hanging on either side and she wore a pair of dangling emerald and platinum earrings. It wasn’t hard to tell she was wearing Snape’s house colors underneath that cloak.

“You look lovely, witch,” he said to her, leaning in and kissing her lightly so as not to smear her lipstick.

Hermione smiled at him shyly.

”Thank you,” she replied.

Snape gallantly offered her his arm.

”This may be a student dance, Hermione, but as far as I’m concerned, it will be you that is the proverbial ‘Belle of the Ball,’” he said as she looped her arm through his.

Together, they left the site, disapparating to Hogwarts.

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”How do I look, Rose?” Lily asked her cousin.

Rose, who had been leaning into the mirror and applying lipstick, turned to look at the second-year, who was dressed in a frilly blue gown, her hair nicely curled. Rose smiled.

”Aw, Lily you look . . .”

Suddenly Rose looked closer at Lily, who stared back at her, then looked down at her dress.

”What? Is something wrong?” the young witch asked her.

Rose scowled.

”Yes, there’s something wrong!” she said, walking forward and reaching down the front of Lily’s dress and pulling out two big wads of tissue. “What in the world are these?”

”Enhancements,” Lily said, “I wanted to look more . . . grown up. Gowns look so much better when you have boobies.”

”You have to grow your own,” Rose snapped at her, then started laughing. “Really Lily, you’re too much. Hugo’s not going to care whether or not you have boobies, believe me.”

”I’m not thinking about Hugo. There’s going to be other wizards there,” she said angrily.

Rose sighed.

”Lily, you’re a second-year. You have no business thinking about wizards. They’ll be on you soon enough. Enjoy your freedom,” she said, tossing the tissue into the trash.

“I still think it looked better,” the witch said, sitting down on the bed and looking at Rose. She looked beautiful in the gown, the shawl hanging from her arms, her auburn hair curled and framing her face.

“Wow. Rod’s going to fall over when he sees you,” Lily said to her, “You look great, Rose.”

“Thanks,” Rose replied, finishing putting on her make-up and idly wondering how Rod was making out.

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Rod stood in the mirror studying himself, his blonde hair neatly cut and combed. His skin looked a lot better, having only a few small discolorations on it now. He adjusted his dress robes and turned a bit in the mirror. Yes, he really did look nice. He hoped Rose liked how he looked.

He looked at the crisp white trainers on his bed, then pulled his wand out of his sleeve and miniaturized them, putting them in his pocket. He was going to need them for the dance. He turned back to the mirror and gave himself one more look, plucking a piece of fluff off of the rich blue fabric.

”This is it,” Rod said to himself, “It’s all or nothing now.”

He took a deep breath and headed out of his room.

It was time to pick up Rose.

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Snape created quite a stir when he escorted Hermione into the Great Hall. The long house tables had been removed, and numerous round tables covered in festive red and green tablecloths with candle centerpieces surrounded by holly were strategically placed around the large open area that would serve as the dance floor. Against the far wall were several long tables full of punchbowls and foodstuffs, house elves flitting about making sure everything was perfect. The Great Hall itself was tastefully decorated with the usual Christmas bells and whistles.

Snape noticed with some satisfaction that there were no cherubs flitting about. Albus used to release them on every ball like a glittering, harp-plucking swarm. The wizard felt a little sting at the thought of the Headmaster. Even after all these years, he still missed the old manipulative wizard.

“Headmaster Snape!” Wumblewort gushed, rushing up to the wizard and ignoring Hermione completely as he pumped the wizard’s hand enthusiastically. “I had no idea you were coming. This is wonderful!”

”Actually, I wouldn’t have come if not for Mrs. Weasley inviting me to help her chaperone,” the wizard replied, turning toward Hermione and removing her cloak.

It was as if the entire hall suddenly disappeared as his black eyes took her in. She was wearing a strapless green and silver sequined gown that displayed her soft shoulders, throat and décolletage beautifully. A platinum and emerald necklace rested on her throat, a match to her earrings. The gown was backless as well, showing her smooth skin almost to the delicious swell of her buttocks.

Snape stared at her. Dear gods, she was so lovely. Wumblewort stared at the both of them. It was quite obviously the dark wizard was smitten with the widow. Well, well. This ought to make for some interesting conversation around the punch bowl.

Snape stuffed Hermione’s cloak into the Headmaster’s hand as if he were a cloak boy.

”You look . . . delicious,” he breathed at the witch, who blushed furiously at the desire in the wizard’s silken voice. She looked at Wumblewort, embarrassed.

Snape saw the flush and immediately caught himself. He was acting like a smitten sixth-year. He scowled at Wumblewort. What was he still doing here? Snape removed his cloak and handed it to the wizard as well.

”Could you please see to our cloaks, Headmaster?” Snape said to him pointedly.

Wumblewort started.

”Oh yes, of course. Hopefully we can find some time to speak during the dance,” he said to Snape, who frowned slightly.

“I am here with Mrs. Weasley, Headmaster. It would be rude indeed to abandon her to the students to chit-chat, especially since I am here to be of assistance to her,” he replied rather snarkily.

Hermione sighed inwardly. Severus was snubbing the Headmaster.

”I see,” Wumblewort said, clearly disappointed, “I’ll just go see about these cloaks then. Enjoy the night, both of you.”

He walked away.

”Severus! You didn’t have to be so rude,” Hermione chided him.

The wizard scowled.

”The man didn’t even greet you, Hermione or thank you for coming. In my opinion, it was he who was rude, and I treated him accordingly. You do not become invisible because I am present,” Snape responded. “Now, let us go and have some punch and get the layout of the room. We have to familiarize ourselves with the various dark niches and hidden spots if we are to be effective chaperones.”

Snape had a lot of experience with chaperoning students. He intended to do a good job of it. He took Hermione’s arm and guided her over to the punch table, his eyes resting on her from time to time as they walked.

Gods, she was beautiful.

As far as Severus Snape was concerned, Hermione Weasley really was the Belle of the Ball.

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A/N: Thanks for reading.

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