The Burning Pen

"What Was I Thinking" Series
"#2 ~ What Was I Thinking ~ Part 2"
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 14

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 14 ~ Honesty Can Be an Aphrodisiac

Severus managed to escape Madame Pomfrey’s clutches a day and a half later. His progress was phenomenal. He was able to get out of bed and walk quite well after breakfast the morning following Hermione’s visit, which was the catalyst for a blazing row between he and Madame Pomfrey. Severus, ignoring the medi-witch’s continued attempts at diet restrictions, had a sumptuous breakfast of sausage, eggs, biscuits with butter and honey, and a large glass of pumpkin juice brought up from the kitchen via house-elf. Madame Pomfrey was mortified, and tried to remove the remainder of the offending food, to which Severus heartily objected. A tug of war ensued, which ended with most of the remaining food on Poppy’s apron. After a quick scourgify, Severus demanded his robes and wand be brought to him.

“You do not need your robes in the hospital ward, Severus. You are still my patient and will wear the standard gown that all patients wear,” Madame Pomfrey said with exasperation.

Severus stood beside the bedside, the gray button-down gown falling just above his knees, exposing his pale legs and bare feet. He looked down at his exposure, then looked at Madame Pomfrey blackly.

“This is ridiculous. Obviously, this gown was not designed for a wizard of my height. It is positively undignified. I can’t walk about like this. And I refuse to go diving for my bed every time someone walks by.”

Pomfrey pointed her wand at Severus’ gown and muttered a spell. The gown lengthened to ankle length.

“Better?” Pomfrey asked, a slight grin on her face.

Severus plopped down on the edge of the bed, crossed his arms and looked sullen. He didn’t answer her at first, then said...”What about my wand. I can at least have that, can’t I?”

Madame Pomfrey snorted, “So you can summon your robes and leave without being properly discharged? I don’t think so, Severus.”

Severus looked at the medi-witch with his best glare. “Poppy, I do not need to be here. I am fine. I am eating, I am walking, and I am not in pain. There has been no recurrence of seizures.”

Seeing Pomfrey stony demeanor, he sighed and continued in an annoyed tone, “I need to get back to my classes. Merlin only knows who Albus has there, mucking up my lesson plan,” he said resentfully, “surely you don’t want have your ward filled with the victims of a potions accident that I could have been avoided by my presence.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Pomfrey said dryly, “though, I believe the chances of your potions class being blown to bits is highly unlikely. Professor Binns is currently the substitute. More than likely he is regaling your students with the History of Potions. The worst danger they are in is of bumping their foreheads on the desks, as they nod off.”

“Professor Binns? Albus!” Severus roared.

For the rest of the day Severus was in a black mood. The Headmaster visited him and tried to allay his concerns about Professor Binns, but Severus continued to rage and sulk, and rage some more. Hermione came up to visit, but his mood was so horrible, that she left early and spent the rest of the day setting up her lab, and designing a “Spells and Potions Wish List” to owl to commercial spell distributors, vendors and wholesalers, in order to get an idea what the market demands were, and where to focus her initial efforts.

That evening after supper, she stopped by to visit Severus again. He was sitting on the side of the bed, utilizing the table as a desk, busily marking parchments with a red quill. He went about the task quite savagely, and Hermione was sure that his scoring was based more on his bad temper, than actual errors on the part of his students.

“Hello, Severus,” Hermione said, watching as he drew a particularly vicious line through a sentence. Severus grunted an acknowledgement.

She sat down in the little chair left for visitors, and looked at the Potions Master a bit apprehensively, before attempting small talk.

“How was your da...” Hermione started, but stopped upon seeing Severus’ glower focus on her, “Never mind,” she said, retracting the question quickly. Severus returned to marking parchments. She tried again.

“I see that you’ve managed to have your work brought up to you,” she said, lamely.

Severus sighed and put the quill down. He sat back on the bed, and turned to look at Hermione, his face screwed up with annoyance.

“Very astute of you, Miss Granger,” he said, sarcasm literally dripping from his words. Then he sighed as he looked at the stack of parchments. “A pitiful attempt on the part of Albus and Poppy to get my mind off of leaving this, this, curtained prison. I will not stay here another day, even if I have to walk to the dungeons in this deplorable dressing gown. I am fine, and it is a waste of time and resources for me to be sequestered here, when I have work to do.”

Hermione simply nodded. She didn’t want to say anything that might spark him off. A short silence ensued, then she ventured, “Yes, you look quite well now. A far cry from when you returned Sunday...”

Severus considered her for a moment.

“Thanks to you,” he said quietly, his dark eyes boring into hers.

Hermione felt warmth filling her belly as he looked at her with those eyes. Those eyes that had held such dark fire when he possessed her. Such pleasure. She swallowed and looked away.

“So, Miss Granger, how did you spend your day?’ he asked in a lighter mien.

Hermione was relieved that the topic had turned to something more manageable. She told him about her progress in the lab, and the wish list she had designed. He listened with interest, his eyes never leaving her face as she spoke animatedly about the possibilities that lie ahead once the lists were returned.

“A wish list,” Severus mused, “a very good idea, Miss Granger...it will allow us to focus our energies on producing products that will bring quick returns. Well done.”

Hermione blushed with pleasure at his praise.

“Thank you,” she said, beaming despite herself.

“It is not empty praise, Miss Granger. You are applying yourself to the task at hand with your usual enthusiasm and saved us valuable time. Without this ‘wish list’ our efforts would have been tantamount to blundering around in the dark. You have provided an adequate light switch. Your brilliance should always be acknowledged.”

Hermione’s face darkened, “Well, that would have been welcomed when I was a pupil in your classes.”

Severus sighed, “Miss Granger, you need to get over that. If I had been fawning all over you like your other teachers, you, in all probability would not be the determined young woman you are. Overt favoritism weakens character, things come too easy, the recipient becomes too lax having everything handed over on a platter, deserved or not. Your intelligence was a breath of fresh air in my class, but to focus on your abilities would have lowered the moral of other, less gifted students, who had to struggle through. I couldn’t allow that. And I couldn’t allow you to feel you could breeze through life on your intellect alone. Intelligence is not enough.”

Here, Severus paused for breath. Hermione was staring at him in amazement at this explanation of his treatment of her. She didn’t know what to think. Severus continued.

“You had to acquire strength of character, courage, determination and conviction of your own worth. Without requiring the toadying of others in order to validate your successes and cushion your failures. You are quite well balanced, Miss Granger. You do not flaunt your capabilities. You do not babble on about the greatness of your accomplishments. You do not take your gifts for granted, or use them to acquire fame and adoration. You seek knowledge for its own reward, applying yourself to the task at hand, and seeing it through to the end. That was my hope for you, that you would develop these traits, and become a force to be reckoned with, a muggle-born witch who would cause every prejudiced pureblood to question his or her beliefs about their own innate superiority...” Severus’ voice dropped low with intensity, “and you have fulfilled that hope beyond my expectations.”

Hermione finally remembered to breathe. She looked at the Potions Master, the man who for many years was the bane of her existence. Cold, aloof, cruel, hurtful, and a muggle-hater were a few of the nicer words she would have used to describe him. If only she had known...no, it was better that she didn’t know, or his conditioning wouldn’t have been effective.

A swell of strong, aching desire rose inside her as she faced this man, who seemed to always have had her best interests in his heart. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, and feel him respond. She wanted to hear his deep growl of lust, feel it vibrate against her throat. She wanted to feel him plunge inside her, crazy with passion. She wanted...Merlin...what she wanted.

Severus noted, with some alarm, the heat in her eyes. He had seen this look before, just before he took her. He felt an answering throb of desire heating his loins, and swallowed, pushing back the memories of her delicious, sobbing abandon in his arms.

“Severus,” she began, her voice low, amber eyes shining-like molten fire.

“Hermione, you should go now,” Severus said quietly, not wanting to go where he knew her next words would take him. Turning her away affected him deeper than he wanted to admit.

“We...we...need to talk, and soon, there is something...something new I need to tell you, that might make a difference...” Hermione said softly.

“Nothing will make any difference, nothing,” Severus replied, his pain evident in his voice. Damn, he had to hold it together.

“This might,” Hermione whispered.

Severus shook his head as if to dispel all the powerful emotions filling the curtained area. He felt constricted, as if he couldn’t draw a full breath. He couldn’t do this now.

“Hermione, I can’t talk about this now,” he said, bringing his hand to his brow and rubbing it absently. “Please, just go.”

“But we will talk?” she asked, her glowing eyes fixed on him.

“Yes,” he replied, “but only when I’m ready. Please, don’t push me.”

Hermione rose from her seat, her eyes searching Severus’ expression for any indication when their talk would be. His face was unreadable. She sighed.

“All right, good-bye Severus,” she said, turning to exit the curtained space.

“Good-bye,” Severus responded as she disappeared through the heavy fabric. He sighed in relief, then slung his long legs into the bed, scooted down and locked his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He didn’t want to think.

But he had to.


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A/N: A little more tension. Hang on, readers...I’m on my way to the orchards. Thanks for reviewing, and a little snarky grin to those who thought I was going to snuff Severus. Nope. No. He’s too delicious to be worm food. Keep those reviews coming...they keep my fingers tapping. And are much appreciated. See you next chapter.

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