The Burning Pen

"What Was I Thinking" Series
"#6 ~ A Matter of Matrimony"
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 2

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 2 ~ Hermione Breaks the Ice

Marcus walked back to Hogwarts deep in thought. He hadn’t really paid that much attention to Hermione in the few months he had been at the castle since she seemed the consummate bookworm who would rather curl up with something made of paper with leather covers, than a flesh and blood wizard, despite her relationship with the cold, snarky Potions Master. Almost every time he saw her around the castle she had a quill between her teeth, a cache of books in her arms, and looked a million miles away; or else appeared strung out, with dark circles under her eyes, clothes wrinkled from days worth of wear, and her hair looking like a badly constructed bird’s nest. She wandered through the corridors in a kind of preoccupied daze, bumping into people, and sometimes muttering to herself. She had held no appeal for him...then. Discovering she was a deviant little wanton needing special treatment had changed that. He had always been drawn to the illicit.

Marcus had heard Hermione was accomplished in self-defense, and there had been an incident several years ago when she thwarted a Death Eater attempt on her life, which resulted in the death of Lucius Malfoy’s only legitimate heir. If she were good at self-defense, then that was a common interest they shared. They were both involved in spell work to some degree, he teaching protection from the worst of them, and she developing new protective spells. Another common link.

His Eradicator background would be a great help in establishing if not a friendship, then at least a working association with the young witch. He would approach her as he would any intended victim under careful watch. He considered Snape more in the role of a big, black watchdog jealously guarding too large a territory than a rival for her affections. Snape had been fucking the witch for several years now, and hadn’t made any move to make an honest woman of her, no doubt satisfied with the current situation. He could use that to his advantage, to persuade her to seek out other available options. Him, for example.

As far as Marcus knew the Potions Master had plucked her cherry fresh out of Hogwarts. It was highly doubtful she had known any man other than Snape, and he probably kept her close to keep her from the temptation of broadening her experience. Her lack of experience with other men could work in his favor. She might not know how to handle his advances, and be drawn to him despite herself because of the newness of the situation. She had been with Snape a long time. He’d found that familiarity often breeds another kind of need.

Marcus smiled to himself. He was good with women. He had a “way” with them. He never passed a night alone if he didn’t want to, and he very rarely paid for his pleasures. Women loved his eyes. And in his case, the eyes were the window to the bedroom, wall, kitchen table, tree or whatever else was available as a backdrop for a good, hard fucking. Getting Hermione, who had little or no experience with anyone other than the Potions Master, might not be too difficult, if he knew what made her tick, and after what he saw tonight, he believed he had a pretty good indication. Snape’s current relationship with Hermione might be exclusive, but that could change if someone else who could stimulate her libido came on the scene. As far as Marcus was concerned, Hermione was fair game.

Judging by what he witnessed, Snape had a strong psychosexual hold on her as well. He would have to break that. Obviously the young woman was a masochist. Marcus had a few dark tendencies himself. It wasn't that he wanted her for his own, it was the challenge of conquest, and the twisted little rewards which would result, that appealed to him. After seeing Snape’s brutal possession and her resiliency, he wanted to see if she could handle him. Whether she could or not, it would still be a delicious diversion, making life at Hogwarts more bearable.

There was also the possibility of going toe to toe with Snape. He would be interested to see if the wizard would be a worthy opponent. Probably not, with his emotions all awry at the thought of another wizard dipping his wand into his personal lovebunny. Marcus shook his head. Love made men stupid. That’s why he had never bothered with it. However, lust had its moments.

He was at the castle proper now, and entered the main hall, planning to stop off at the staff room for a quick cuppa. It was always available there, piping hot. As he headed up the shifting staircases, he turned his mind back to Hermione, and what he knew of her daily routines

There were four main places Hermione could be found on any given day. The first was her laboratory, the second was the rooms of Severus Snape, the third was the Great Hall and the fourth was the library.

Her spells laboratory was connected to Snape’s potions laboratory. Not a good place to try to talk to her. Snape’s rooms were out of the question. The Potions Master had taken an immediate dislike to Marcus...but he didn’t feel singled out. It seemed Snape took an immediate dislike to everyone. Needless to say he didn’t expect to ever be invited to Snape’s private rooms. Wouldn’t be a good place to try to put the moves on his twisted, little lover anyway.

The Great Hall might be a good place to try to break the ice. Snape was always with her there, but the atmosphere was open, and conversation between staff members was common. To speak to Hermione there would not seem out of place...yet he was sure Snape would be paying very close attention to the exact nature of that conversation. In fact, he was sure that the Death Eater would pick up on his motives right away. Good. More tension.

Now, the library was an excellent place to start getting to know Hermione. She was usually there alone, researching, or could be found carrying great loads of books to and from the area, a great excuse to be a gentleman and offer his assistance. That could lead to conversations, opportunities to find ways to get her in his presence more, perhaps appealing to her curious nature, dropping some tantalizing tidbits about the darker, less common spells he knew, learned from his travels in savage lands from primitive people, spells that would no doubt enthrall her.

He entered the staff room and halted. There, scanning a copy of Potions Today and sipping a steaming, black cup of coffee, sat Severus Snape, looking no worse for wear. The man always looked impeccable. Even after fucking Hermione ragged on the hard earth, there wasn’t a speck of dirt to be found on his robes. Severus looked up, and scowled, his usual reaction at finding his space intruded on.

“Good Evening, Professor Snape,” Marcus said as he strode past the Potions Master and helped himself to a cup of coffee.

“Mr. Delaluci,” Severus said shortly. He didn’t like this man. Not that he showed any particular inclination towards any staff members other than Albus, and Minerva, but something about the Dark Arts teacher disturbed him. It could be that he was irritated that Albus never disclosed the exact qualifications that made Marcus worthy of the post, other than to say he was qualified by his experiences, but it seemed to be something more, something deeper. The man made his alarms go off.

Severus wiped the thought from his mind, for now, returning to the Potions Magazine. He was waiting for Hermione, who had gone to the Infirmary to have a word with Pomfrey about a spell she was working on for the medi-witch. He hated how Pomfrey’s eyes would get soft and watery whenever she saw the two of them together, and decided to wait in the staff room to avoid her glistening-eyed gaze. It was annoying, really.

Marcus leaned back against a staff table and sipped his coffee, surreptiously sizing Snape up from beneath hooded eyes.

“I hope Miss Granger is well,” he said.

Severus’ head snapped up. “What?” he asked, not expecting him to ask about Hermione. The man had paid little to no attention to his lover the entire time he had been at Hogwarts, according to memory. His black eyes narrowed slightly.

Marcus held back a smile. “I said, I hope Miss Granger is well,” he offered again, interested in Snape’s response, particularly since the wizard had recently almost knocked a new hole in the woman.

“As far as I know, she has no complaints,” Severus said, bristling for some unknown reason.

“That’s good,” Marcus said, nodding, taking another sip of hot liquid, and leveling his violet eyes at the Potions Master.

Snape grunted, and pretended to return to reading his magazine, but Marcus' interest in Hermione’s state disturbed him, innocent as the statement had been. Why had he asked about Hermione? He definitely did not like or trust this man.

Suddenly the staff room door opened and Hermione walked in, some parchment clutched in her hand. She started right in.

“Madame Pomfrey really needs to be more detailed in her requests. She left out some vital information and now I have to start the whole project over again."

She frowned, looking at Severus, then noticed Marcus leaning against the table, looking at her over his cup of coffee.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Hermione said, lowering her notes and looking at the Dark Arts teacher, “I thought Severus would be the only one here. How are you, Professer Delaluci?” she smiled at him pleasantly.

Marcus returned the smile, his violet eyes twinkling. “I’m fine Miss Granger, and you?” he replied. Looking at her, it was hard to believe she was being brutally raped only half an hour before, and loving it. He considered her smiling face. She really wasn’t hard to look at. Not at all.

“I’m well, thank you,” she answered pleasantly.

Severus, still pretending to read his magazine, scowled.

Hermione continued curiously, “It’s a little late, Professor. I’m surprised to see you in the staff room at this time of night...”

“I was out walking the grounds,” he replied.

Snape looked up at him sharply, his eyebrows drawn in suspicion

Marcus continued. “I often walk the grounds at night when considering my lesson plans for the next day. Since I’m new at teaching, I still have a bit of a time getting everything together. It’s a lot to do. Grading, giving assignments, lecturing, teaching spells. Walking helps me sort things out.”

Hermione considered, “It seems you need a better lesson plan, Professor. A monthly schedule would help you immensely. You wouldn’t have to do things day to day. I’d be happy to draw one up for you, if you’d like.”

“That is very kind of you, Miss Granger. I would really appreciate the help,” he replied, his smile growing broader.

Severus closed the magazine, dropped it on the table, stood up and crossed to Hermione, taking her by the arm rather possessively.

“It’s getting late,” he said, his voice low and slightly angry, “we should be returning to our rooms.”

Hermione nodded. She looked over toward Marcus.

“I’ll talk to you later in the week to discuss the best way to organize your lessons,” she said as Severus guided her to the door.

“I’ll look forward to that, Miss Granger,” Marcus responded, “have a nice evening.”

He paused, then said, “And you too, Professor Snape.”

Hermione smiled at him again. “I will. Goodnight, Professor Delaluci.”

“Mr. Delaluci,” Severus said in parting, an edge to his voice as he exited with Hermione and closed the door sharply behind them.

Marcus smiled to himself. Hermione was really a very helpful, friendly young woman. She might make this easier than he thought. Then he laughed. Snape had been livid, he could tell. He didn’t like the idea of Hermione coming to discuss his class lesson plan with him. It was his first opportunity to be alone with her. He intended to make the most of it.

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“Delaluci,” Hermione mused, walking down the hall arm and arm with a rather stiff Severus beside her. He was scowling blackly. “That sounds Italian.”

“That the man would be descended from mobsters and murderers comes as no surprise to me,” Severus muttered.

Hermione stopped and pulled her arm out of his, putting her hands on her hips.

“Severus, what a horrible and prejudiced thing to say! Just because he’s of Italian descent doesn’t mean his family were gangsters!” she said, frowning at him.

Severus snorted. “I just don’t like the man. There is something wrong about him,” he said, looking at Hermione.

Hermione sighed.

“Severus, you don’t like anybody,” she replied, putting her arm back in his and starting to walk down the corridor. Severus stalled.

“That’s not true. I like you,” he said, leaning down and kissing her. He really wanted to take her back to his rooms and claim her again. He was feeling very possessive after her and Marcus’ conversation. But he knew the night’s previous activities had left some wear and tear on her body. Tonight’s game had been good, very, very good. He had lost it. Good thing she was a tough little witch.

Hermione was mollified. She smiled.

“Come on, let’s go,” she said pulling him into a walk, “I need some rest...and some purple potion.”

He arched an eyebrow at her comment. He must have been harder on her than he thought. They had been together almost seven years now, and at the age of twenty-five, she was a very experienced, and resilient young woman. She rarely used purple potion any more after their encounters. Ah well, at least he still had it.

Severus walked beside her, but his mind drifted back to Mr. Delaluci. The wizard was up to something. And whatever it was, Severus didn’t like it.


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A/N: And we’re off... I have no idea where this story is going, but it will get there.

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