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 4

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 4 ~ An Opportunity Presents Itself

Hermione woke early the next morning. She sat up on the side of the bed and stretched languorously before heading for the loo and performing her morning ablutions. She had just managed to button up her robes when she heard Severus calling her from the Spells lab door to come for breakfast. She brushed her hair swiftly, then walked through her study and met him at the door.

“Good morning,” she said, kissing him on the cheek

Severus was testing his classes today and so was attired in full student-terrorizing regalia, his impeccable black button-down teaching robes, with button cuffs and a severe high collar. Small silver clasps held collar and cuffs together. His hair looked extra-greasy today. He had probably applied some additional hair product to make it look that way, and keep his reputation as a greasy-haired whatever intact. He also wore his trademark scowl. Hermione half believed he practiced it every morning before classes, to be sure it inspired the proper amount of dread in his charges. Severus worked hard to preserve the threatening appearance that accompanied his legendary snarkiness. Hermione looked up at him and wrinkled her nose.

“Do you always have to look so forbidding in the morning?” she asked him.

“Always,” he purred, giving her a quick peck on the lips, and taking her arm. He led them out through the Potions office, and warded the door. As they headed toward the main hall he looked down at her.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked. He didn’t. He found himself reaching out for her last night only to find she wasn’t there. He disliked the feeling immensely. But then again she felt she had needed some space after their rendezvous. She had a right to sleep alone if she wanted. There were times when he needed alone time too. Yet he still missed her warm presence the nights she exercised her right to privacy.

One thing that worked well in their relationship was that they gave each other plenty of room, coming together only when it was mutually desired...or during their games. He smirked as he remembered the night before. Hermione could have excelled in theater, if she had not been so gifted in the magical arts. The woman could act. Of course the actual ravishing of her person required no acting abilities. After seven years of intimacy, Severus still could not get enough of her.

One night, after a particularly vigorous bout of lovemaking, about four years into their relationship, when they both lay side by side panting, Severus looked at her and asked,

“Hermione, do I still excite you?”

She had drawn a deep breath, and laughed at him, her eyes soft.

“You will always excite me,” she replied, kissing his large nose.

True, Severus was twice Hermione’s age when they first became lovers. He had been thirty-six. He was now forty-three. But wizards didn’t reach middle age until about eighty years old, so actually Severus was a young man by wizarding standards. It was his severe demeanor and harsh experiences that made him seem older than he was. Sexually, he was at his prime, and indulged himself as much as Hermione could handle him. During the reign of the Dark Lord, he found release with prostitutes, but with his Gryffindor lover he found completeness.

Hermione loved him. He knew this. He could feel it sometimes through their connection, which often opened during his possession of her, the powerful waves of her love washing over him, urging him on. She had proven her love as well, when she was unknowingly abducted by him, disguised as a Death Eater, and chose to face death rather than betray him with another to secure her freedom. That had been a life-altering experience for him, and as far as he knew her love remained undiminished after all this time

But like any other older man in a relationship with a beautiful young woman, Severus had his insecurities, though he would never admit it. Hermione had been so young when he accepted her as his lover. Unlike most witches, she had not dated or gone through the process of choosing between wizards competing for her affections. For her, it had always been him. Her lack of experience with matters of the heart sometimes worried him. How would she handle another wizard approaching her who sparked her interest? She had no knowledge of how to deal with such a situation. Hermione was guided by her passions, and passion could not be controlled without understanding. She had never had to exercise restraint when the animal in her came out. He had indulged her every desire, denied her nothing and despite her formidable mind, the needs of her body often superseded all reason. This was what he loved about her but was also what kept him in a perpetual state of jealousy and possessiveness. She was his. His. The idea of anyone else making her respond drove him wild.

He was well known for his possessiveness concerning her. At a celebration of Voldemort’s death, he nastily dropped a wizard for touching her and this act cemented his territorial nature concerning his paramour in everyone’s mind. Wizards steered a wide berth around Hermione Granger. It was healthier that way. But it didn’t stop them from looking or wanting. Severus could do nothing about that but scowl his displeasure.

What if a wizard came out of the works who would actively pursue her, despite Severus’ claim? A wizard who could awaken her desires as well as he? Would he fly into a murderous rage and challenge the usurper to a duel? Or let her handle the situation and make her own decision as she had a right to do? His heart clenched at the thought and he shook his head slightly.

Why was he thinking of such a thing now, when she was right beside him, her arm locked in his? Why was he dwelling on something that he might never have to deal with, torturing himself, when only the night before he had felt her clutching his very soul as he took her body and made her his again?

He knew why.

Marcus Delaluci.

There was something dark in him. Something dark and feral. Something that if Severus were an animal, would make him scratch deep grooves in the ground, spray his scent all around his lover, and howl a challenge. For he knew, as sweet and loving as Hermione was, she was drawn to the darkness, and when her passions were aroused, darkness could easily consume her. He suspected Marcus saw them last night, and liked what he saw. It made sense, especially when he asked about Hermione’s condition. He knew what Severus had done to her.

Severus growled in the back of his throat at this thought, and Hermione looked up at him, noting his narrowed eyes, and tightened jaw.

“Are you all right, Severus?” she asked, concerned.

Severus looked down into her lovely amber eyes, eyes that had seared him to his core with their passion, and said quietly, “Yes, I am fine, Hermione.”

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Marcus dug into his texas toast, eggs and steak with relish. He had woke up famished, and completely uncovered, the silk sheets of his bed piled on the floor. After his morning workout and shower, he hightailed it to the Great Hall for breakfast. He didn’t know why he was so starved. It was as if he had expended a lot of energy overnight, but as far as he knew, he had slept soundly, and dreamlessly through the night.

He looked up when he heard Hermione’s bright greeting to her fellow staff members. She entered with Snape hovering beside her, the usual black shadow. The Potions Master pulled out her chair for her and stood by solicitiously as she took her seat. Snape met Marcus’ eyes for a moment before he seated himself. Marcus was sure that there was more than a hint of displeasure in those black orbs. Seemed as if the dark wizard was doing some calculations, and didn’t like the math results.

Hermione looked down the table and waved at him pleasantly. He smiled and waved back, and Snape’s face took on an almost murderous mien. It hadn’t taken the Potions Master long, had it? Marcus wondered if Snape would pull the “take the rival to the side and warn him off” play. He hoped so. He had some interesting things to point out to Snape about the “all’s fair” clause concerning love and war, although Lust and war would be a more fitting description in this case. Maybe an initial dueling challenge would be issued.

Marcus’ wand hand flexed. It had been a long time since he’d battled another wizard, and he looked forward to any opportunity to use his formidable skills. He had some tricks that were quite effective. He hadn’t lost a duel in years. His wandless magic was also quite powerful, but he kept it secret. He wanted to have the element of surprise on his side, just in case it came down to him having to use it.

He took his time finishing his meal. He didn’t have a Dark Arts class until eleven. He had breezed by the staff room to look at the posted class schedule, and noticed Snape had a Potions class at ten. Which gave Hermione at least one full Potion-Masterless hour. If he could intercept her before she began her day, he could begin to let her get to know him without Snape’s interference. It was nine forty-five now. The Potions Master would be heading to class.

Severus lingered over his meal, reluctant to head for the Potions classroom. He had hoped to escort Hermione to her lab, but she was in an animated discussion with Madame Pomfrey about the project she was working on, and didn’t seem inclined to leave. It would be inexcusably rude for him to interrupt her and drag her off to her lab, so he tapped her on the shoulder and took his leave of her, his gaze slipping to the end of the table where Marcus sat, black eyes meeting violet. A confident smirk was on the wizard’s face, and Severus felt the urge to throw a hex at him for his insolent look, but a look was no reason to start a duel. He scowled and left for class.

After a few minutes more of discussion with a red-faced Madame Pomfrey, Hermione excused herself from the High Table and left out the staff exit. Marcus rose directly behind her, and followed, unaware of Dumbledore’s gaze following him. The Headmaster had no twinkle in his blue eyes as he watched the Dark Arts teacher exit after the Spells Mistress.

He wondered if he had made a mistake in hiring the man.


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A/N: spent a lot of time in Severus' head, focusing on his insecurites this chapter...please review. Thanks.

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