The Burning Pen

Yuleride
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 26

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 26 ~ The Date and the Decision

Ron picked up Hermione at noon. She had eaten a light breakfast and skipped lunch completely. It didn’t have so much to do with her date with Ron, but how she felt inside after her adventure with Severus the night before. As frightening as it had been, it had also been—glorious. The last time she felt so alive was when—when Voldemort had been alive and they were on the run. It disturbed her a bit that she was nostalgic for those wicked, dangerous times, especially when so many suffered and died. What kind of person was she to get off on danger the way she did?

When Ron picked her up, she was a bit subdued.

”Are you all right, Hermione?” Ron asked her solicitously as they walked across the grounds, both in Muggle dress, Hermione in a warm coat and a pullover hat. Ron wore a Weasley hat and sweater, courtesy of his mum.

”I’m fine, Ro—oh! Ron, are you all right?” Hermione cried as Ron suddenly fell face first on the ground. She helped him up. Ron brushed himself off.

”I’m fine. I don’t know why I’m so clumsy every time I come here,” he said to her, taking her arm and continuing toward the gates.

From a turret window, Snape put his wand away as Hermione helped her beau up.

Firing a long distance tripping hex at Ron had been juvenile, but he hadn’t been able to help himself.

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Ron surprised Hermione with Miranda Goshawk’s latest book: Charms Throughout the Ages. She was very happy with it as they made their way to the Ministry Library. They got great seats in the third row. Ron had taken the Pepper-up potion as he said he would, and made it through the first two-hour segment just fine. He even managed to listen to the lecture, taking some of it in, although it was boring as far as he was concerned. When intermission came, he and Hermione got in line to have her book signed. Hermione was very excited.

The line was moving slowly, everyone wanting to speak to the famous witch. Ron idly looked around, then stiffened, his mouth dropping open for a moment. Hermione was intent on watching the line move and getting glimpses of the author, so didn’t notice.

There, at the libations table, stood Odessa, getting a cup of punch. She brought it slowly to her lips, her green eyes shifting about and falling directly on Ron. They made eye contact, Odessa quickly draining her cup of punch and disappearing into the milling crowd.

Ron’s first impulse was to leave Hermione in the line and go after the witch, but not to try and find out where she lived, but to get some kind of closure—to tell her what happened between them should never have happened. But then, he fought the impulse. What happened, happened. Talking to the witch wouldn’t change that. It would be better just to leave her be and focus on Hermione, who he truly loved.

Hermione felt Ron slip his arms around her waist lightly, brush back her hair and kiss her throat softly before letting her go. She turned and looked up at him.

”What was that for?” she asked him softly as Ron looked down at her soberly.

”Because I love you, that’s all,” he replied, then, “the line’s moving up.”

Hermione gave him a smile and turned back around, moving forward.

Ron let out a sigh, glancing back toward the table, then over the crowd.

Whoever the witch was, she was gone.

Thank Merlin.

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Odessa returned to the brothel, quickly prepared a very small Pensieve. Using one of Madam Natasha’s owls, she immediately sent it to the Potions Master. It was hand delivered to him by Filch, since there was no access to the dungeons for an owl.

“Curious package. No return address,” Filch said curiously as he handed the package to Snape, who unceremoniously closed the door in the squib’s face without answering him.

Quickly, the wizard let himself into his quarters, sat down before the fireplace and opened the package. He took at out the Pensieve and stared down into it. It showed Ron looking toward Odessa, his mouth dropping open. But, instead of leaving the line, he watched her disappear into the crowd. Odessa was still watching him however and he saw the redheaded wizard wrap his arms around Hermione and kiss her throat, before straightening and looking around once more, then focusing on the line.

”Damn it!” Snape hissed, angered that Ron didn’t take the bait and rush off after Odessa. Obviously, the wizard had matured, or at least made up his mind that Hermione was more important than the best blowjob of his life.

Snape sat there for a moment, then viciously threw the Pensieve against the fireplace wall, the bowl shattering and the silvery liquid flowing down the wall before evaporating. His chest rising and falling, he stared at the shattered pieces, knowing that Odessa wasn’t the answer. If Ron could resist her at the first showing, it would be easier to do the following times. The dark wizard really didn’t want to risk the witch coming on any stronger. It might backfire and be found out that he was the one who sent her that Christmas day. Hermione might not forgive Ron, but she might not forgive him as well.

Snape pulled out his wand and pointed it at the shards on the floor.

”Scourgify,” he hissed, cleaning it up then resting his wand on the small repaired table.

What was he going to do now?

Snape ran a finger over his lips as he considered his options.

Giving up wasn’t one of them.

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Hermione and Ron had a wonderful meal at the Bee’s Knees, Hermione leafing through her book as they ate, exclaiming at all the new information and end notes.

”This has to be the most comprehensive book she’s written yet, Ron,” Hermione gushed.

”I’m glad you like it,” Ron said, looking at her in the candlelight and mentally going over all he’d learned from Bill and Fleur. He decided to test the waters. Bill said not to press too hard.

”When we finish, I’ll drop you off at the flat,” Ron said softly.

Hermione stopped eating and blinked at him.

”What? Aren’t you going to stay?” she asked him.

”If you want me to, Hermione. I just didn’t want to—you know. Pressure you,” he said to her softly.

Hermione gave him a warm smile.

”I don’t feel pressured at all, Ron. I’d like you to stay the night,” she told him.

Ron gave her a brilliant smile then.

”I’d like to stay, Hermione. I’ve missed being with you,” he told her honestly. “But we don’t have to do anything if you—“

”Shhh. We’ll deal with that once we get home, Ron,” she told him, blushing slightly.

Ron gave her another smile and dug into his food with gusto.

It was on.

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”Ron, it’s all right, Ron. Maybe you were under too much pressure,” Hermione told the silent wizard as he lay next to her sullenly. He had done everything right, from the snogging, to the foreplay, even to the oral sex, Hermione squirming in pleasure as he applied his newfound knowledge. She was so hot, she was willing to be reciprocal, and that’s when it happened.

Ron lost his erection. Completely. They tried to get him aroused again, but it just wouldn’t work.

”It’ll be all right, Ron,” Hermione said to him again, softly.

Ron didn’t think it would be. When Hermione took him into her mouth, all he could see was Odessa, and his reaction was all wrong. Guilt could work on a wizard like being dashed with ice water. He went slack immediately.

Now, Hermione was trying to tell him it was all right. But it wasn’t all right, and her repeating it over and over wasn’t going to help anything. Suddenly, he rolled out of the bed.

”I’d better go, Hermione,” he said, his back to her as he pulled on his briefs.

”What? Why Ron? Stay here. We don’t have to have sex,” she told him as he stepped into his jeans, pulling them up around his lean hips and fastening them.

”We can’t have sex. What good am I?” he said to her, pulling on his shirt, then his sweater. “I’m a pudding dick.”

Hermione sat up in the bed, holding the covers over her bare torso.

”Don’t say that. There’s more to a relationship than sex,” she replied, “besides, it’s been a while for us and you’ve—you’ve been working hard at being a better lover, and you were wonderful—just wonderful up to—“

“Up to the point I went soft,” Ron muttered. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I have to go. Lying in bed with you and not being able to—to do anything would be torture. I feel tortured enough.”

With that, Ron walked out of the bedroom. Hermione heard the front door slam, followed by the crack of Apparition. She sighed and fell back into the bed, holding herself and staring up at the ceiling. She really did feel a bit cheated, but didn’t want to kick Ron when he was down. It had all gone so wonderfully today . . .

What the hell went wrong?

Slowly, she slid her fingers between her wet folds and began to masturbate.

Try as she might, Ron’s face wasn’t the one she envisioned as she brought herself to climax.

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Snape was well into his fifth Firewhiskey, listening to Vivaldi on his Wizarding Wireless as he mulled over his situation with Hermione. It didn’t help to think that Weasley was probably on top of her right now, mauling her body selfishly as he always did. He didn’t deserve her. Not in the least. He was ruining her.

Snape downed the rest of his drink and listened to the swell in the music, his dark eyes reflecting the firelight, his lank hair curtaining his face and nose slightly wrinkled with distaste as he imagined the two of them together. He stood up suddenly, and wavered in place. Should he slip Hermione a love potion? Should he kill Weasley and take him out of the equation all together.

No. He was thinking like a madman now. They were two perfectly good options, but a bit extreme. A love potion could be detected, as could be a murder. Perhaps he could duel Weasley, but that was no guarantee Hermione would accompany him. Most likely she wouldn’t if he killed her beau. Then there were the other idiot Weasleys to deal with, and lest he forget, Potter.

Snape began pacing as it dawned on him what he needed to do, the realization rising bile-like in his throat as his nature fought against it. Dear gods, he didn’t have any idea how to do this. What it would take to honestly steal a witch from another wizard? He was used to manipulation, deceit and misdirection to acquire what he wanted.

He’d have to court Hermione, and she already felt herself taken. But she wasn’t married to the wizard, or even engaged. That made her fair game, didn’t it?

Snape sat back down and considered what he had to work with.

They both were employed at Hogwarts and Hermione stayed at the castle most of the time. They both had a love of adventure. And most compelling of all, was they had sex, good, hot, dirty sex and the witch had loved it. Even when he kissed her last night, she responded to him for a moment before her sense of propriety kicked in. Could he tempt her back into his arms? That seemed to be the strongest connection.

If he could, he’d be even more compelling this time. But, there would have to be more to this than simple sex, or stealing her away. This required an investment of emotions, an opening up. Wanting her wouldn’t be enough. He had to make Hermione fall in love with him. With him.

It would probably be easier to walk on water.

And he’d have to give her something more than his desire. Could he invest? Could he—love?

Snape fixed himself another drink.

Technically, he could love. He’d done it once before with horrible results. It had been so painful to watch her walk away. So painful that he closed himself off from feeling anything remotely vulnerable for all the years that followed.

But gods, he wanted Hermione. It seemed the closer she became to Ron, the more he wanted to rip her away from him bodily. A snarl appeared on his pale face as he thought about it.

There was another aspect to pursuing Hermione. He would have to let her know he was pursuing her, and not just as a companion, but to be his witch in every sense of the word.

Telling her that would be the most difficult part of all. It would be opening himself up to immediate rejection, a rejection he couldn’t accept if he were to succeed. He’d have to think very carefully how to approach her. She might think he was attempting to lead her on—that he was lying to her, willing to say anything to get her to agree to accompany him.

Gods, this was going to be his most difficult mission yet. Being a double agent for the Order didn’t hold a candle to this. He could be cold, unresponsive and a total bastard in his service to Albus Dumbledore. That definitely wouldn’t work on Hermione.

Snape took a big gulp of his Firewhiskey, rasping and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, staring into the flickering flames.

Oh gods, damn it. Things had just become very, very difficult.

Snape had no idea that his plan with Odessa had worked on some level, and at this very moment Hermione was feverishly masturbating with his name on her parted lips

Considering Snape’s new plans, that little development could be promising.

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A/N: My, my. Snape’s little plan didn’t work as he planned, but seemed to work on some level. Poor Ron. Poor Hermione and poor Snape. He’s going to have to ante up now or give up. Ought to be interesting. Thanks for reading.

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