The Burning Pen

"What Was I Thinking" Series
"#4 ~ The 'Up Against the Wall' Wars"
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 21

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 21 ~ Drawing Nearer

The following week, Severus and Hermione went back to their normal duties. Hermione worked in her lab, catching up on a week’s worth of orders, replenishing spells, and researching new ones. Severus terrorized and bullied his students as usual, maintaining a high level of snarkiness to combat the general rumor of his “easing up” since he was now romantically involved. This led to many grumbles of Hermione “not doing her job” The two lovers met for breakfast and lunch each day in the Great Hall, and the tentative truce between Severus and other staff members during meals was re-established, to their great relief.

But every evening after classes, he and Hermione would go to the Room of Requirement and practice their fighting skills. The role of teacher/student was dissolved, now they were equals, battling with a grim purpose. Severus was a fierce fighter and gave Hermione no quarter. She wasn’t allowed to wear her deterrents and had to meet the Potions Master on even ground. He made a better showing than he did when he was stalking her. He guarded his jewels much better too, not that she was keen on doing them any damage. She ceased complaining about being thrown around the room, since she too was giving Severus a few high hard ones. Sometimes, they would lock body to body, struggling to find or break holds, and Severus would find himself getting aroused as she struggled against him, her skin slick with perspiration, breasts heaving with effort. There were a few times he had her locked in highly compromising positions, where it would have been an easy matter of a tug here or a rip there to have his way with her. But he refrained. If Hermione was aware of Severus’ inclinations, she gave no sign of it, but remained focused, fighting like her namesake, the lioness. He was very pleased with her abilities. It seemed as if she were following her normal pattern of excelling in anything she put her mind to.

On Wednesday, after a deep discussion on tactics, they both decided it would be best to practice in clothing similar to what they would be wearing over the weekend. It would be much more restrictive than the comfortable sweats and t-shirts they wore to practice in. So they needed to compensate for that. Hermione wore muggle clothing off Hogwarts grounds. Severus almost always wore robes. Hermione showed up to practice wearing a white sundress, much like the one she had worn when he first took her virginity. Severus was dressed in his normal, everyday robes. When he looked at her, he couldn’t help remembering how he had torn the dress off her.

“Hermione!” he said, scowling, “we agreed no tricks.”

“What are you talking about Severus?” she said, setting her bag containing towels and water down against the far wall.

“You wore that dress to purposely distract me,” he accused, pointing a long slim finger at the offending garment. Hermione looked down at her dress, then back at him, putting her hands on her hips.

“Again I say, what are you talking about? It’s just a dress, and if it survives this session I will be wearing it this weekend. Anyway, you’ve seen me in dresses plenty of times.”

She frowned at him.

“Severus,” she said firmly, “I really hope this isn’t a jealousy issue.”

“What?” he said incredulously.

”I hope this isn’t about the possibility of parts of my body being revealed during the battle. I’m not about to be modest when I’m fighting for my life.”

Severus lowered his head, and rubbed his eyes.

“No, Hermione, that isn’t it,” he said with a defeated air. Obviously she wasn’t aware of the dress’ similarity to the one she wore that fateful and erotic day.

“What then?” she asked, beginning to do her stretches and pulls.

“Nothing,” he said sharply, “just...never mind.”

Hermione looked at him, shrugged and continued her warm-ups.

After several minutes, they were ready to square off. Still distracted, Severus made a sloppy grab for her and was rewarded with a sharp elbow to the side of his head, followed by a leg sweep that toppled him to the ground. He sprang back to his feet. Hermione circled around him.

“Off your game tonight, Severus,” she said with a little triumphant smile. It didn’t last long. Severus grabbed her by the arm, blocked her knee blow and flung her over his left hip. She hit the mat hard, the dress riding up, showing her upper thighs before she scrambled to her feet and starting circling Severus again. That little slip of skin made Severus harden. He tried to will his arousal down, but his cock had a mind of its own. He sighed and turned his attention back to Hermione, who was in attack mode.

Her shoulder strap had slipped, and the soft curve of her breast was very apparent, her hair was wild, untamed, falling into her face. She threw it back, her eyes predatory. She looked like a beautiful wild woman, a maenad. Severus spun with her at first, then began circling too. Hermione darted in, obviously going for his robes to tangle around his body, but he was prepared and stepped sideways, spinning like a matador to a bull, and locking his arm around her waist as she flew past, lifting her from the floor, her body tucked against his waist like a football. Her dress rode up to her waist, revealing her white panties. She kicked her legs uselessly, her ass up in the air as she grabbed ineffectively at his back and legs. He looked down at her pert bottom, and couldn’t resist slapping it. She howled in outrage. He dropped her to the floor and stepped away. Hermione jumped to her feet.

“Foul! Foul!” Hermione cried, reddening.

Severus looked at her calmly, “Hermione, there are no fouls. You know that.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she stammered, too furious for words.

Severus lifted an eyebrow sardonically, “You didn’t say that last...”

Hermione charged him, catching him around the middle and taking him down hard to the mat. They struggled, Hermione attempting to roll him over so she could arm lock him, and failing this, trying to lock her legs around his. Following Kingsley’s instructions, she used everything to
try to get the upper hand. She bit his arm, and scratched his hands up terribly. She was going for his throat when Severus managed to roll the hellcat on top of him over, pinning her down but getting a horrible head butt to the forehead that almost made him see stars.

He caught her wrists up above her head and lay low between her legs with his own legs spread wide, locking hers apart. She struggled but couldn’t break free. They lay there together panting, with Severus jerking his head to one side occasionally to avoid her attempts at head butting him again. Both straps to her dress were down around her shoulders, and her dress was hiked up around her hips. Her eyes were full of fire, and she struggled hard beneath him. Severus was responding powerfully to her wriggling beneath him despite himself, and let all his weight fall on her. This slowed her down as she struggled to breathe deeply.

Severus slid up a bit, sure to keep his legs wide. He started to pull her arms together over her head so he could clasp her wrists together one-handed. She tried to stop him, but she was exhausted, and his weight was too much. He managed to get a hold on both her wrists, his long fingers locked like a vise. Reaching down, he started to hitch up the front of his robes.

“What...what are you doing?” Hermione panted, “I’m pinned. I can’t slap the mat...I give”

Severus didn’t reply, just kept moving his robes upward. Then he shifted slightly, raising his hips, still keeping his legs wide apart. He pulled down the front of his boxers, releasing his cock, and slid up again until it rested against the crotch of her panties. Hermione’s eyes widened and she lifted her head to look at him.

Still not speaking, Severus pulled the crotch of her panties aside, and pushed the head of his cock between her lower lips.

Then his eyes met hers. The look in them was unmistakable.

“Oh...wait...” she breathed and gasped as he scooted forward again, entering her.

“Oh...shit.” Hermione said, letting her head fall back.

Severus began to thrust.

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“That...was worth going to Azkaban for,” Severus growled against her neck, still shuddering, releasing her leg and guiding it down to the mat. He rubbed her thigh gently.

“Azkaban?” Hermione asked weakly. Her body hadn’t finished quaking. She brought her hand up and ran it through his damp hair.

“I didn’t exactly ask your permission,” he murmured, his lips moving against her throat as he spoke, “that could be construed...as rape in many circles.”

“Yes, but I think to qualify as rape, the victim isn’t supposed to like it,” Hermione replied, still twining her fingers in his hair.

“So you liked it? Liked being put in a compromising position? Liked being taken advantage of?”

“By you? Yes.” She whispered, stroking his head.

He was silent a moment.

“I will have to remember that,” he said quietly.

“Do that,” she breathed, mentally placing another check in her deviations list.

Severus reluctantly lifted himself off her and rolled to his feet. He looked down at her.

She was resting on her elbows, her amber eyes resting on him, shining with after-glow. Her small full lips were parted, and the straps of her dress hung low on her shoulders, exposing the swell of her breasts. Her legs were bent, still agape, her smooth thighs visible, her dress hiked up around her hips. An aura of sexuality hung about her so strongly, he felt as if he could reach out and touch it. He was a lucky, lucky man to have the love of this beautiful, desirable and slightly twisted young woman. He felt a throb beneath his robes.

Severus swallowed, and held out his hand to her.

“Come on,” he said huskily, “we’ve got to go, because if we don’t I will be tempted to ‘take advantage’ of you again. We’ve had enough of a workout tonight.”

Hermione allowed him to pull her to her feet

He cast a scourgify on Hermione, then himself, then walked over and retrieved her bag for her, handing her a bottle of water. She drank thirstily.

As they exited the Room of Requirement, Severus glanced at her sideways.

“Hermione, would you mind doing me a favor?” he asked.

“What?” she responded, looking at him curiously as they walked down the corridor toward the dungeons.

“Don’t wear any more white sundresses to practice...I am rather...partial to them. I have to stay focused.”

“No white sundresses? Why, Severus...” she paused, realization dawning on her. She gave him a sly smile, “Now I know your trigger. Me looking virginal.”

He scowled. “Just don’t wear them if you want to walk correctly.”

Hermione stifled a giggle, and took his arm. Together they returned to the dungeons.

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“Clink, clink, clink.”

In the stale semi-darkness of the Hog’s Head Inn’s back room, Draco Malfoy dropped several galleons in the witch’s hand.

“Now, you be sure to stick close and listen well,” Draco sneered at Rosmerta’s barmaid, Annadale, who was busily counting the coins, “if you come back to me with nothing of value...you will be very, very sorry.”

Annadale looked at him with wide eyes. “Not a bad-looking wench,” Draco thought as his eyes raked slowly over her body. He stepped closer to her, and leaned, so his breath barely warmed her ear as he whispered, “and if you please me...there shall be an even greater...reward.

The barmaid shuddered. She thought Draco Malfoy was the most handsome young wizard she had ever laid eyes on. She’d love to have a go at him.

“Yes, sir,” she said, shuddering with anticipation. Draco drew back.

“I want to know their plans for Sunday. Where they are going, what they are planning on doing. Do you think you can manage that?”

“Yes, sir,” she said again, mesmerized by his steely blue gaze.

“Good. I expect to know late Saturday night. I don’t care how late. You know where Malfoy Manor is?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want you to apparate there, understood? Any time of night. The house-elves will let you in and bring you to me. Now go.”

The barmaid gave a little curtsy, and hurried from the room. The moment she left, several masked men entered the room from another doorway.

“Draco, do you think it wise to use that little chit? She’ll be able to implicate you, if anything goes wrong.” One of the Death Eaters said, looking at the door the witch exited from.

“Don’t worry about that,” Draco said, his eyes cold, “Her visit to Malfoy Manor will be one way.”

He turned to the group of men.

“We are going to have only one chance to get this right. I want to take them, both Snape and his mudblood whore. But if I can’t, then we will kill them where they stand. Kill Snape directly, don’t hesitate, but only disable Granger. I want to kill her myself. Is that understood?

The men muttered assent.

“Good. Now we only need to know where and when to attack. The barmaid will give us that information. We will have to move quickly after that. Remember, we can’t use dark magic, no unforgivables...it will draw aurors instantly. We will have to overpower them, cut them down by force, as we have done the other targeted scum. Severus will be a hard case. He can fight. But Granger is useless without her wand. If we move fast enough, we can get to her before she draws it.

Draco smiled cruelly at the thought of a wandless, helpless Hermione at his mercy.

“I would prefer an ambush,’ he said, “but if we must, we can apparate to their location. This will attract more attention than we want, but if we overpower them, we can apparate away with them in tow. We will work out those details when we have the information. Remember to be available. I need all of you. You are the best, most devout, and most deviant of our Lord’s remaining followers. Through you, he will be avenged.”

“And my father,” he thought.

A Death Eater stepped forward. It was Goyle. “Draco, if we get Granger back to the Manor, can we...have her?”

Draco frowned at the great, slow ape of a man, “Always thinking of your cock, Goyle. Yes, you can have her, after me. Hopefully Snape will be able to watch.”

Goyle smiled broadly, before looking at Malfoy hesitantly.

”Well?” Draco snapped.

“Erm...so you’ll remove the curse...so I can...you know...get hard.”

Draco sighed. “Yes, but only when the time comes. I can’t trust you.”

Goyle smiled and stepped back into the group.

“The great oaf,” Draco thought, frowning at him. Then he addressed the group of them,

“Ok, you are all dismissed. Be cautious returning to the Manor. Apparate to the cave entrance, take the maze. Don’t lose your way. I’ve added trolls and weredogs,” he grinned nastily, “hungry ones.”

The Death Eaters nodded and drew their hoods over their heads. They silently exited the way they came, closing the door softly behind them. Draco rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

The weekend couldn’t come soon enough.


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A/N: Conflict approaching. Draco means business. He doesn’t know about Hermione’s new skills, though. Tsk tsk.

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