The Burning Pen

In An Alternate Universe Someplace
by Ruth Solomon aka Ms_Figg

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 24

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 24 ~ The Gorgeous and the Evil

An irritated Hermione snapped and snarled at her last Potions class. Most of the reason she was in such a bad mood was because of Severus, who sat staring at her with a look of pure, idiotic joy on his face. This was the last class of the day, then . . . then he’d be in her quarters, alone with the witch of his dreams.

But the way Hermione was feeling, it was more than likely she would be the witch that nightmares were made of. He was totally oblivious to her scowl and she meanly assigned the class a four-foot essay due tomorrow because she felt so . . . impotent.

There was no way out of this situation.

Severus made it even worse by flicking his eyes toward the clock every thirty seconds or so, as if willing Time to speed up. This irritated Hermione even more.

Finally, the class ended and Severus was one of the first out of the door.

Curious students on their way to the Great Hall watched as the Gryffindor let himself into the empty Potions office. The wards had been set to his signature so he could take them down at will.

”What’s Snape doing?” Goyle said to Draco as Severus slipped through the door and closed it.

”It looks like committing suicide,” Draco said, “come on, let’s tell Granger and help him along.”

Draco and Goyle hurried back to the Potions class and found Hermione gathering paperwork together. Draco knocked on the doorsill and the witch looked up with narrowed eyes.

“What is it, Mr. Malfoy?” she demanded, still in a foul mood.

”I thought I should tell you that Severus Snape just broke into your office,” Draco said, hiding a delighted grin as the witch turned red as a salamander.

”He did? Why that little ba . . .” Hermione growled, then caught herself, remembering students were present.

”Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin,” she said, hurrying through the short corridor that led to her office.

”Snape’s dead,” Draco grinned to Goyle, who looked at him with a big ape-like smile. The two Slytherins left, trotting up the hall and stopping to listen at the Potions’ office door.

They didn’t hear any blasts or cries for mercy.

”Damn. I bet he left before she got there,” Draco muttered, disappointed. “Come on, Goyle. Let’s go to supper.”

The two young wizards headed up the corridor, Draco in the lead and Goyle lumbering behind him.

Damn. The Pureblood really wanted to see Snape get fried.

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Hermione rushed into the office, ready to browbeat, but Severus wasn’t there. Scowling, Hermione let herself into her quarters and froze as she saw Severus sitting in one of the two armchairs front of the fireplace, which was lit, in what looked like black silk pajama bottoms and . . . and was that a smoking jacket?

He was eating a ham sandwich and looking very much at home, his Advanced Potions book resting on the small table next to a plate and a glass of Pumpkin juice.

Hermione stalked up to him, billowing around the chair, her arms full of parchments.

”What,” she hissed, “do you think you’re doing?”

Severus looked up at the witch, put the sandwich down, swallowed what he was eating and gave her a disarming smile.

”I’m relaxing after a hard day of class,” the wizard replied, stretching a little and wriggling his toes luxuriously in the black fuzzy slippers he wore. “I always do this.”

”I’m sure,” Hermione snorted, eyeing his attire.

She walked over to her desk calmly, put her paperwork down, calmly drew her wand, turned and blasted the Pumpkin juice, plate and sandwich to dust before setting Severus’ fluffy slippers on fire.

Severus yelped and jumped out of the armchair, kicking his flaming footwear into the hearth.

“Hey! Why’d you do that?” he said to the witch, still shaking his hot bare feet as if some residual fire clung to them.

”This . . .” Hermione hissed, “is my study. Mine. My territory. My domain. That . . .”

Hermione pointed to the doorway on the right that led to his room.

” . . . is also mine, but you are temporary infringing on my domain like a creeping, unwanted Gryffindor weed. You will sequester yourself in that room during your time here unless I give you permission to be in my study. And there will be NO eating in here, period. You’ll attract magical roaches and they’re next to impossible to remove once they’ve set in,” she snapped at him.

Snape just blinked at her, his eyes focused on her lips. It was as if he didn’t hear a word she said. She had turned him on by yelling at him and setting him on fire . . . magically. It only took a little kindling to get his libido in gear.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his look.

Merlin’s Dangling Dingleberries. How was she ever going to stand this?

“Earth to Severus. Did you hear me?” she snapped at him.

”Ah, yeah. No eating down here,” he said softly.

”And no being in my study without permission,” she added darkly. “Besides, you should be in the labs brewing, not lounging about stuffing your maw. Now get out of here and get started on the Polyjuice potion!”

”Yes, professor,” he said, walking slowly towards her, rather than his room.

Hermione’s wand hand twitched noticeably.

”I suggest you make a change in direction if you don’t want your feet set on fire this time,” the witch said dangerously.

Severus stopped and looked at her. Then, with an annoying smirk, he did change direction and walked into his room, leaving the door open as he pulled off his specially transfigured smoking jacket, baring his strong torso and then looking toward the witch, who flicked her wand at the door, slamming it shut.

”The nerve,” she spat, scourgifying the dust left behind from his meal.

Presently Snape exited his room, dressed properly in student robes.

”I’m going now,” he announced to Hermione, who was sitting at her desk and marking parchments.

”I’d prefer you gone,” she replied without looking up.

Severus smirked again and exited the study.

As soon as the wall slid down, Hermione put down her quill, sat back and rubbed her eyes.

She still had to deal with tonight. She knew she had laid out the rules for the young Gryffindor, but she knew with certainty that despite him being Head Boy, he didn’t have much regard for rules.

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Hermione was still sitting at her desk when she heard the wall slide up. What? It took at least three hours to prepare the ingredients for Polyjuice potion and get it started. Scowling she looked at the open wall. At first she saw no one.

She drew her wand.

”There’s no way you could have finished prepping the brew this quickly. Preparing the ingredients requires the normal amount of time, even if you have managed to speed up the brewing time,” she snarled, “so I suggest you go back to the lab.”

Suddenly, a form stepped through the door.

It wasn’t Severus.

It was another wizard, a very unwelcome one.

”Hermione,” Lucius Malfoy purred, looking as debonair and handsome as ever, his blonde hair falling over his shoulders, dressed in immaculate green dress robes, the ever-present silver-tipped cane in his hand. He smiled at the witch, a dimple appearing in one cheek.

”Lucius, what are you doing here?” Hermione demanded, her face black.

”Now, now, Hermione. Is that any way to talk to your savior? To the man who saved your life . . . to the man you owe a Life Debt?” the wizard purred, entering the study.

He had been here many times before Albus Dumbledore’s purported death, which was why he could get through her office and into her quarters. This was the first time he’d been here in more than a year and Hermione hadn’t thought to remove his signature since his advances ceased.

”I don’t owe you anything, Lucius. That debt was cleared when I saved Draco’s soul from being fragmented,” she hissed at him. “Now, leave my quarters.”

Lucius simply smiled at her, although he stopped advancing.

”I’m afraid you’re wrong, Hermione. It was Narcissa who bound you to the Blood Oath to keep Draco safe, not me. You still owe me,” he breathed.

”But Draco is your son too,” Hermione said sharply, “I did both of you a service by saving your only heir, Lucius. I owe you nothing and will give you nothing!”

Lucius studied her, waiting . . . waiting for the witch to be subjected to the pull of the debt. She would be compelled. But to his chagrin, nothing happened.

Hermione had been waiting too. Anytime Lucius came to her, she was driven to allow herself to be subjected to his desires. It was the price she paid when he convinced the Dark Lord to let her live after she did not show up at the graveyard when he was resurrected. Lucius convinced him she had been loyal and Voldemort Crucio’d the Pureblood severely for interfering, but allowed Hermione to live. She owed Lucius her life, and the wizard took full advantage of it until she “killed” Dumbledore and informed him her debt to him was paid.

He hadn’t taken this well. He enjoyed his engagements with Hermione, because she didn’t want him. She never wanted him. And that was what made her so desirable, her hatred of him. Lucius got off on that, and missed it.

Hermione gave him a rather nasty but victorious smile.

”I’m not compelled, Lucius . . . so leave. That’s proof my debt to you is repaid,” she said.

Lucius began to twirl his cane, his gray eyes resting on her.

”You know you miss me, Hermione. How about one more dip of my wand for old time’s sake?” he purred at her.

”I don’t miss anything about you, Lucius. You’re selfish, cruel, and manipulative. A decent wizard wouldn’t have made me do the things you did. A decent wizard would have saved me because it was the noble thing to do,” she spat at him.

”Just because I am a noble, doesn’t mean I am noble,” the blonde wizard said, his eyes darkening. Suddenly he pointed his cane at her.

”Imperio!” he hissed, catching Hermione by surprise with the spell.

Lucius suspected she might not cooperate, and so was prepared. He had inserted his wand into his walking cane, hoping to catch her off-guard.

And he did.

Hermione stood there, unable to move, her wand extended and brown eyes shifting wildly as Lucius walked up to her.

”Put your wand on your desk and come to me,” he said to her with deceptive softness.

Hermione’s arm moved jerkily as she dropped the wand on her desk, then twitchily walked around it toward Lucius, stopping about two feet away. Her eyes were glistening.

Not again. She thought she was free of him. Free of this.

Lucius slid his hand over her cheek slowly, studying her face, her eyes as tears helplessly slid from the corners.

He smiled.

”You know Hermione. I’ve missed you greatly. Yes, yes I know I have plenty of women to fuck, willing women . . . all shapes and sizes, willing to do whatever I wish because I am so . . . desirable.”

Lucius began to walk around Hermione, his hands clasped behind his back, his cane resting between his shoulder blades. He leaned over her shoulder and pulled her hair back, his lips close to her ear.

”It’s terribly boring, sticking my cock in witches who want it. There are no more Revels to suit my darker tastes. I did have you for a short while, Hermione, and you were just as delightful as any terrified Muggle bitch, particularly since I didn’t have to murder you when I was finished. You hate my touch . . .”

Lucius licked her ear and Hermione shuddered inwardly

”My wealth, looks and breeding mean nothing to you . . . in fact . . . you always give me the impression you think yourself better than me in some way. That is why I enjoy fucking you . . . I know it turns your very soul cold,” he breathed, pulling away from her ear and walking back around her. “Every stroke I give you humiliates and disgusts you. Such a turn-on to know you are so helpless against me. That you hate me so. Anytime you groan my name, it is a groan of anguish . . . not pleasure. Every gasp is one of shame, degradation and loss. I take from you every time I touch you. So appealing.”

Lucius reached around her, running his hand up her spine.

”I particularly miss the Tree, the raised marks of your treachery. To think, you actually deserved them,” he said softly, “you traitorous whore.”

Hermione wanted to hiss that Narcissa was also a traitor. She pretended Harry was dead when he wasn’t and that was how he got to Voldemort. But that didn’t matter to Lucius. His wife had been trying to save their son, and Harry was the only way she knew Draco would have a chance. She acted on behalf of his offspring.

”I was hoping against hope that the Life Debt would compel you to me, but I came prepared just in case it didn’t. As I said, I’ve missed our times together. If this is to be the last time, it will be the best time,” he said with a bit of a growl. “But don’t worry. You won’t remember. There’s no way I intend to let you finger me for rape, Hermione, though I’ll consider this closure. A well-placed Obliviate will take care of any . . . possible unpleasantries, though I’m sure you’re going to wonder what happened to leave you so sore and bruised with the taste of come in your mouth. A mystery you’ll just have to live with.”

Lucius turned and warded the wall, cast a Silencing spell then walked over to the desk and retrieved Hermione’s wand, sticking it in his pocket. He pointed his cane at the now defenseless witch.

”This wouldn’t be nearly as fun with you under the Imperio,” he breathed, releasing her.

Hermione was no match for Lucius hand to hand. She knew it from earlier encounters. He had no problem punching her in the face or jaw, or ribs.

He wouldn’t now.

”I hate you, Lucius Malfoy,” she hissed at him as the wizard began to unbutton his robes with one hand, keeping a good grip on his cane as the witch came back to herself..

”I know, Hermione. I know,” he replied with a lascivious smile, waiting for the witch to run.

She always ran. It was fruitless, but she did it anyway.

Hermione didn’t disappoint him.

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A/N: BRrrrrrr. EVIL!Lucius on the scene for a bit of drama. Ooh. He’s a bad’un. Lolol. Thanks for reading.

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