The Burning Pen

"What Was I Thinking" Series
"#1 ~ What Was I Thinking? ~ Part 1"
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 7

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 7 ~ The Defining Moment

After her confrontation with Severus, and a night of crying her eyes out, Hermione had finally did some serious self-examination and had come to grips concerning her behavior. The truth was she did care if Severus lived or died. She had ever since she had learned about his dual role as a spy for the Order. Long before she developed these feelings for him.

Looking back, Hermione realized she had spent much of her seven years at Hogwarts trying to please the Potions Master. She realized that this was always a lost cause, because she had on occasion done things that affected the Potions Master’s ego negatively. One was to solve his logic puzzle designed to protect the Sorceror’s Stone in a matter of minutes, and two, snatching Sirius Black and the subsequent honors for capturing him from right under Severus’ nose, using a time turner. No wonder he was always such a bastard to her.

It was in the summer of her fourth year that she discovered Severus’ dual role of spy for the Order. All of her previous assumptions about the Potions Master were shaken to the core by this revelation. Harry, Ron and many others still hated the man, not being able to see past his dour treatment of them through the years, but Hermione realized Severus could never show kindness to Harry or herself and last long in Voldemort’s service, even if he wanted to. Which was doubtful. He really seemed to like being seen as a big bat, or snarky git by his students and out-of-the-loop peers.

She later learned the cost of being a spy. Severus was constantly subjected to the Cruciatus curse at his lord’s whim, one example being when Voldemort was thwarted from getting the Prophecy by mere students. The dark lord felt he should have been informed of these talented youngsters and took out his ire on the Potions Master, wracking his body with pain till he was at the very brink of death. It took a long time for him to recover.

He risked his life every day for those around him, in the hopes of destroying the greatest evil of the wizarding world, and it was as if no one gave a damn about him. In spite of this, he still served for the greater good. He was an unsung hero and Hermione respected him greatly. Albus Dumbledore may well be the strongest wizard in the wizarding world, but Severus had a strength, depth and nobility that went far beyond magical ability. Being a muggle-born, Hermione knew there was many things more important than magic.

Severus suffered his role in silence, letting no one in..not that anyone tried to get past his forbidding manner. He deserved more. So, Hermione admired him from afar. And it was during that fourth year summer she found that on occasion she was able to draw Severus out into conversation, and sometimes they would talk for hours about potions, charms, books and other topics both magical and non-magical. It was then she learned to appreciate his harsh honesty, and sardonic wit. She was also able to gauge his moods, which were blackest immediately before and after he had to respond to the Dark Mark. These were the times he snapped, “Get away from me, you stupid girl!” and other equally hurtful comments. But the words seemed to lose their sting.

Hermione could find no one her age interested in scholarly pursuits as much as she was. While others were pairing up, she was always studying. There was Victor Krum, but she discovered that although he was sweet, he was not her intellectual equal, and she needed that extra something. He wanted her body, but didn’t care at all about her mind. So she broke it off. He had another girl within a week.

She was curious about sex. Her body was going through changes. Some nights she woke up with a strange ache between her legs or tingling in her breasts and had to touch herself to try and soothe it. Or other times she felt a strange fluttering in her belly when she saw couples engaged in passionate kisses, and wondered what it felt to kiss like that. She had kissed Ron on a couple of occasions, but it was like kissing her brother, and when he tried to go further, it just felt disgusting. It took a while to get Ron to back off of her romantically, but it finally sunk in. He didn’t talk to her for weeks.

She pored through books and novels but got nothing other than the clinical or fictional concensus on the subject. But when she found an illustrated book called the Kama Sutra in a muggle bookstore, she felt a queasy, excited sensation inside as she perused the pictures of sexual positions. A gut reaction. The first genuine lead. She realized that logic and reason would never be able to explain what sex was, and what it did to a person. Only experience would open up those secrets. She needed someone with experience.

But Hermione couldn’t find anyone in her year that met her requirements. Having a reputation as an uptight bookworm didn’t help her prospects either. Knowledge just wasn’t sexy. And she refused to act brainless like Lavender and Parvati just to get a boy interested. There was no guaruntee that a boy would really even know what it was really about, no matter his number of conquests. Most fellow students were novices too. So she had pretty much given up on the idea of ever finding anyone skilled enough to teach her what she most desired to know. That is until one night near the end of her sixth year, when she visited the hospital wing to get a sleeping draught from Madame Poppy, who wasn’t there.

She was about to leave when she heard a groan from the far end of the hospital wing. She drew her wand, said the Lumos charm and cautiously followed the sound to a curtained area. She looked about for Poppy again when she heard a weak male voice call for water. The voice sounded familiar. Hermione pulled back the curtain and saw Professor Snape lying in the hospital bed. He looked terrible.

She had never seen the Potions Master look so weak and vunerable. He was paler than usual, hair falling back lankly from his drawn face. His fingers were curled painfully, and his lips cracked and dry. “Water, please” he croaked again, raising his arm slightly in the direction of her lighted wand. She watched as a terrible tremor went through him, and he cried out loudly in pain. Quick as a flash she was kneeling by his bedside, holding his cramping hand as he shuddered horribly, groans escaping him as he rode out his pain. She sat there and caressed his brow, talking soothingly to him. Finally the shuddering stopped, and she was able to prop him up against her, and give him a little water.

“Thank you,” he whispered as she let him down gently . He sunk back against the pillows, exhausted. Hermione sat there a moment, worrying her bottom lip.

Then she asked him, “Why do you do this, Professor? Why do you keep going back to him when you know what he will do to you?”

He opened his eyes, and looked at the young witch as if deciding whether or not to answer her.

He sighed shallowly and answered with great effort. “Because, there is no one else, Miss Granger. Someone has to provide information so his evil can at least be curtailed while Potter is trained up to deal with him. I have the mark. And I am expendable.”

“But you get no reward,” she said bitterly. “No acknowledgement for all the good you do. If you died tomorrow, no one would know all the sacrifices you’ve made for the wizarding world.”

He looked up at the ceiling.

“Sometimes, Miss Granger, you do good for just the sake of good, and hope that is enough.” He turned his head to look at her somberly. “And plus, you know. Your recognition of my sacrifices will serve as ample reward.”

He closed his eyes, and his breathing slowly evened out in sleep. Hermione quietly left him there, her heart troubled that someone so selfless should be left in a dark corner of a hospital room, alone.

And that was when she knew who she would like discover sex with. The strongest, bravest, most intelligent man she knew. Severus Snape. She was sure he knew what sex was about. He had been around. Plus, she was almost at the age of consent. The age difference didn’t matter to her. Her mother had married her father, who was twenty-one years her senior. Snape was only 18 years older. And she wasn’t looking for marriage anyway. Only knowledge, as usual.

When Severus finally recovered and returned to Advanced Potions, he was just as snarky and bad-tempered as ever. He deducted five points from her because she raised her hand while he was speaking. It was as if he had no recollection of her visit or their conversation that night. She began to think about him often first in his role as a spy. Then she recalled their conversations at Headquarters. Then she began to watch him when he demonstrated brewing a potion. How focused he was, how precise, exacting and controlled. His mastery and eye for perfection. She saw his passion for his calling, seething beneath the cool, stoic exterior. She began to wonder, then visualize what it would be like to have him focus on her with that passion, what it would be like to be intimate with him. All that summer, whenever he stalked into 12 Grimmauld Place, her stomach would do flip-flops as he passed, scowling, without a word of greeting on some nights. On other evenings, he would lift an eyebrow and give her a curt nod before exiting into the night, robes billowing behind. Then the dreams came, mingled erotically with the images in the Kama Sutra. And that is what led her to this situation, this moment.

She had to regain control of her reactions to him. She had to let him see that although she understood that he had no intentions of remaining with her, or even continuing a sexual relationship, her feelings toward him extended far beyond what he could teach her. She had tried kindness, fawning, and just plain stubbornness to make him see her before. Now that she had his attention, it was time to try plain honesty. When he came for her, and she had no doubt he would still come if only to fulfill his promise, she would demand that he allow her to show him what was in her heart before he put one delicious hand on her. He had only seen through legilimency her immediate, desperate sexual attraction to him. Like most men, he never thought to look beyond that . He hadn’t any need to.

She wouldn’t call what she felt for Severus Snape love, but she knew it was esteem, care and concern. That would have to be good enough.


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Hermione flopped onto the bed, exhausted. Graduation was over. It had been a lovely affair really, the ceremony, a sumptuous feast, and dancing. She had been called back to the stage several times to receive various awards, and distinctions of merit. She had the highest NEWT scores in fifty years, with the exception of Potions. Severus still retained his title. Hermione might have cried foul except she knew that the Professor did not grade the potions NEWT exams himself. The NEWTs were given and graded by examiners from the Magical Department of Education, to avoid preferential treatment or prejudice on the part of the Hogwarts staff.

She looked around her room. Being the anal retentive little witch she was, everything was boxed, packed and suitably labeled in preparation for her departure on the Hogwarts express the day after tomorrow. Wow, she was finally leaving Hogwarts. It felt unreal.

Suddenly a tap-tap-tap sounded on the window. Sitting up, Hermione turned to see a huge raven scooting back and forth on the stone sill, tapping on the thick glass for all it was worth. It looked annoyed. Her stomach dropped. Who else would have a raven for a familiar?

Hermione walked over to open the window and let the black bird in. It fluttered over to the foot of the bed, turned to her and cocked its head appraisingly. It looked surprisingly like something Severus would do.

“Do you have something for me?” Hermione asked the bird politely. The bird puffed up a bit and seemed to roll its eyes as if to say, “Why else the bloody hell would I be here?” and stuck out its leg.

Hermione gingerly untied the parchment from the raven’s leg, eyeing the creature’s sharp beak a bit nervously. The bird, seeing her discomfort, snapped at her a little...then seemed to smirk. Definitely Severus’ familiar.

Hermione took the small parchment. The bird looked at her expectantly.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m all packed up and don’t have any treats to give you.”

The bird let out an insulted caw, and flew directly out the window, leaving a large dropping on the sill as it departed. Hermione pulled her wand out her sleeve, pointed it at the window and said, “Scourgify!” The dripping dropping vanished. She reinserted her wand into her sleeve and sat down on the bed, shaking her head. Definitely Severus’ bird.

Her belly fluttering, Hermione unrolled the parchment and read the message.


Dear Miss Granger,

Congratulations on your successful graduation from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and on your almost perfect NEWT scores.

Here Hermione snorted. She knew a jibe when she read one. She continued.

I regret I will not be able to pick you up tomorrow, as I have arrangements to make, concerning our time together. As per our arrangement, however, I would like to meet you in my potions class at 3:00 PM sharp. No makeup please. It will just run. I also suggest you bring an overnight bag with whatever little ... things women need to carry on excursions of this nature. Night gown optional. Be punctual. Do NOT keep me waiting. I have waited long enough for you.

Sincerely,

Prof. Severus Snape
Potions Master


Hermione set the scroll down on the bed, feeling numb. She started when the parchment flared then popped out of existence. She looked down at her hands. They were trembling. She clasped them together and held them tightly until they stopped.

He’s sent for me.

Mechanically, Hermione rose from the bed, turned and walked into the bathroom, to collect what she’d need for tomorrow.

He’s sent for me.

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Sitting in his private rooms, Severus sat looking into a scrying mirror he charmed to focus on Hermione whenever he wished to see her. He watched her gather lotion, soap, a toothbrush and several other items stiffly, as if under the Imperious Curse. His dark eyes glittered with amusement.


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A/N: Okay everyone ... the game is afoot. Lemony goodness directly ahead. The first part of the long-awaiting pairing of our protagonists is mostly already written and if I get a few reviews for this chapter, I might put it up tonight. Depends on how many of you are interested in reading it immediately. Otherwise it might be one or two days in coming. In other words, I have stooped to lemony blackmail! Heh. heh.

To my reviewer FIREWALL, thanks for your positive feedback. :) Hermione is a little out of sorts, but that’s because she isn’t used to not being in control...and she is definitely flaming for Sev. But never fear...she is a Gryffindor after all. Maybe she can handle our snarky potions master, once she gets ... it ;) We’ll see, won’t we...

To the rest of the readers, thanks again for checking out my first PWP, and a heartfelt thank you to all those who took the time to review. I appreciate it.

PLEASE REVIEW "#1 ~ What Was I Thinking? ~ Part 1" >>>NEXT CHAPTER