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 8

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 8 ~ Considerations

Hermione pushed herself up from the floor and sat on the edge of Severus’ bed. She felt numb as she tried to process what had just happened with her lover. Although she hadn’t said no, she felt violated. Was it possible for her to be violated by him after all they had done? They had played at rape for the past six years. He had accosted and ravished her in almost every out of the way place at Hogwarts. Even in Hogsmeade. And she had loved it every time. But today, today was different. It was as if he felt she had done something wrong, betrayed him, and he was punishing her. That was, until the very end, when he said the things he said. His voice was so full of loss and sorrow that it made her heart ache for him, despite what he was doing to her. It was as if there were two Severuses battling for control when he took her, an angry, vengeful Severus and a Severus in pain. And the more brutal of the two won out in the end. The Severus she knew and loved would have never used her like that, then walked away.

Hermione was used to Severus’ outbursts of possessiveness. This wasn’t the first time he made her tell him she belonged to him during sex. The first time was after Voldemort’s death, when a drunken wizard had run his hands over her body at a celebration, and Severus floored him then left. Later that night, he pushed his way into her rooms with an insane look in his eyes, smelling of firewhiskey and took her brutally, not losing that look until she was shuddering beneath him, nearly incoherent from his ardor. It was like he came back to himself after that, and he spent the rest of the night holding her in his arms as if she might slip away.

Hermione had, over the years looked deeper into her masochistic nature, and discovered that it was not just a matter of her desiring pain. When she had accepted Severus, she accepted his pain as her own, and his violent sexual nature had always been his release for his pain. That was why she welcomed it, wanted it. Because she loved him, and because of her love provided him a way to find peace and solace. She knew she took away his pain when she took it into herself. She was glad to be able to do that. His life had been so horrible, he always had to be restrained, cautious, in control, or it meant his death. After years of this conditioning, Severus still retained these traits, never letting loose, never opening up to others, remaining the dark, brooding, secretive creature that life had molded him into. Hermione was his only light, only release, the only thing of beauty that he possessed in the world. He lived vicariously through her wonder, her openness, her brilliance. He felt blessed every time she opened her heart and body to him. He couldn’t help his greedy possession of her, or his fear of losing her.

But he had never told Hermione these things, and the witch who sat alone, naked and bruised on the side of his bed, felt a sense of loss and deep hurt. This brutalization was not an easily identifiable act of love, even if his desperate love had made him act as he did. She couldn’t possibly know this as she wrapped her arms around herself and began to rock slowly. All she knew was he felt she had betrayed him, and she searched her heart for any reason he might believe this. She didn’t have to search long. In fact, she knew it when she looked in his eyes in the Spells lab. He knew she felt an attraction to Marcus Delaluci.

But feeling an attraction didn’t mean she was going to fuck the DA teacher.

“Gods, Severus...you are such an ass,” she said to herself

She began to get angry. Angrier than she could ever remember being at the Potions Master. He didn’t trust her. That was the heart of the matter. He didn’t trust her to handle herself concerning another interested wizard. She had been with him, and only him for seven years now, and for seven years she had shown him nothing but love and loyalty. Now, because she took a moment to sit down and listen to Marcus’ story and said it was fascinating, he felt that he needed to mark his territory, to punish her for a simple social interaction with someone else, someone he perceived as a rival. True, she realized his emotional turmoil at the end, but that was no excuse for the way he treated her. The way he walked away from her, when he could have explained, shared his feelings, his fears. She could have comforted him and reassured him. She would have understood. In fact, he could have come to her and tell her what was in his heart. But no, he had to force himself and his insecurities on her and take his comfort from her body. And by the way he left, he had even failed in that.

Hermione began to feel a coldness in her belly. He had made promises to her as well. He promised never to hurt her beyond what she needed. But he had. For the first time he had. And she realized if she let him get away with that, then she was opening herself up to be hurt again and again. She couldn’t allow that. She had known witches who were little more than doormats for their men. She wasn’t doormat material. She stood, wincing at the pain that ran up and down her body. She looked for her clothes, but didn’t see them. She pulled the sheet from his bed, and wrapped herself in it, and walked slowly and painfully to her rooms.

It was time to make a change.

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Severus sat in his Potions class, testing his students. Instead of stalking through the aisles and causing general anxiety to the already nervous group, he sat at his desk thinking of what he had done to Hermione. He knew he was wrong, but he couldn’t help himself. Hermione was his life, and the idea of her attraction to another wizard made him insane. He knew she loved him, deeply and passionately. But the problem was, he never understood why. To this day, her love for him remained a mystery. It started, he knew, as a kind of hero worship, with him a tragic figure in need of appreciation, combined with her sexual awakening and subsequent desires that took over her body. He became her focus, and since she was young, pretty and the pride of Gryffindor house, he selfishly indulged her, taking her virginity and innocence, not thinking that he would want more. But he did. And after a rather stormy start they ended up lovers, and he discovered that he loved her. Deeply.

He sighed. Love. What a wonderful, terrible and obsessive emotion. It destroyed men even as it blessed them, and it was destroying him now. His obsession caused him to violate the one person in the world he cared about, and who cared about him.

He had raped Hermione. Truly raped her. There was emotion there, love was in him, but also something ugly, something dark that he couldn’t control. A forebear of what he would become if she were out of his life. He didn’t give her a chance to say anything. How could she have said anything, when he couldn’t articulate what was in his heart? Even though he loved her deeply, he still hadn’t mastered the ability to open his heart to her beyond telling her he loved her. She had no idea of important she was to him, how she was the glue that held him together, that kept him from returning totally to the darkness within him. He couldn’t tell her he needed her. He could show her, oh how he could show her, but he had never needed anyone before, and the admission was so much like weakness. He needed his illusion of strength.

Severus drew a breath, realizing he had been lax about watching his students. He walked around the classroom twice, to let them know he was still on point, then returned to his desk, and his thoughts.

Severus was a man who didn’t trust the ethereal. Love, peace, joy, hope and happiness were all wonderful concepts, but concepts that he felt out of reach until he experienced Hermione. She gave him access to all these things through his love for her. She experienced these concepts, lived them and through her emotions, through her comforting presence, through her passion, Severus experienced them too. Without her, it would all disappear.

Severus believed in only in the concrete...things he could taste, smell, touch, hear and see. When he was with Hermione he always wanted a sensory overload, to reinforce that she was real, and his brutal possessions provided that reassurance. He reveled in the taste of her mouth, the scent of her arousal, the feel of her flesh, the sounds of her release, and the way she looked at him when he possessed her. This was the concrete proof of her love that he needed. Whenever he imagined she were moving away from him, he took her with all his power, to draw her back, to remind her and himself that she belonged totally to him.

He was selfish with her, he knew. He had arranged to keep her close to him, and away from the rest of the world as much as possible without totally curtailing her, giving her the illusion of total freedom of choice. He knew it wasn’t fair. She was young, beautiful and should be experiencing so much more than he offered her. He had tried to warn her off, knowing his own nature...but she loved him, and so followed him into his dark, sequestered world, without having experienced any real life of her own.

True, she was happy with her job. She was respected. She had security, and access to all the knowledge she desired. She had an intense, virile lover who satisfied her deepest, darkest fantasies and needs. On the surface, everything was perfect. But there is a problem with perfection. It means stagnation, no growth, no movement. Perfection was probably the reason Eve bit the fruit in the Garden. The perfection of Paradise became a prison, and she needed escape even though there were dire consequences.

Severus knew that Hermione had an inkling somewhere in her subconscious, that she too was in a prison. She might consciously perceive her life as paradise, but it wasn’t. Marcus Delaluci was that tree in the middle of their Garden. And though Severus tried to dictate the rules of maintaining paradise, he knew that she would wander to that tree, and be tempted. And it made no difference if he cut Marcus down, there would be other trees, other wizards brave enough to try her despite her vengeful lover-god. Severus would have to let the situation play out, and let her decide if she would freely remain.

The students began to come forward, placing their parchments on his desk cautiously, as if they might burst into flames at any moment. Severus rewarded each with a black scowl, and they returned to their seats, to quietly sit out the rest of the hour. Finally, the last student turned in his test, and Severus dismissed them, after giving them a four foot homework assignment. Their groans could be heard long after they left the classroom.

Severus put away the tests to be graded later. He needed to find Hermione.

They needed to talk.


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A/N: I think Severus went too far... Marcus might be up at bat.

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