Author's Note: Well, it took long enough for me to feel confident in my smutty non-smut type stuff for me to publish it. Lemonade ahead, ladies and gents. Hope you enjoy. Mwa!

Chapter Five:

Hermione swallowed her nerves as she mentally complimented Salazar on the smoothest Apparition she had ever experienced. Even she- a witch who possessed power to spare- couldn't avoid the temporary bone-numbing cold or the sense of being compressed that accompanied Apparition.

Yet, Salazar Slytherin managed to. It piqued her curiosity and her jealousy.

She idly examined the homey environment she found herself in and smiled softly. While a simple apartment, it reminded her of the Head Girl's rooms at Hogwarts... Which reminded her that Salazar Slytherin was one of the Founders and that Hogwarts was likely exactly where he had taken her!

"You should know that my family... My parents are dentists."

Salazar frowned. "And what is a deen-teest?"

"Dentist. Tooth Healer."

"Your mother as well?" he queried, obviously awed at the thought. As she nodded, he breathed, "Two physicians and a woman of the law. I am marrying far above my station."

Hermione shook her head. "I am no more noble than anyone else. There might have been a great-grandfather a couple of greats back who was a baronet, but I am of peasant stock and proud of it. There was no magic before me. I'm a First-Generation Mage."

Salazar cupped her face in his hands. "Assuredly, your parents were the greatest witch and wizard I have yet to meet. The might of their magic created the one person who could call me forth from Death. Their love for one another created the one woman who can match the passion and loyalty beating within my breast."

Hermione swallowed, instinctively knowing that passion could be her weapon against this man, despite the sweetness of his words. Passionate people could be controlled by their passions...

Which made her so lucky that Ron had already informed her that he was sure that any man sleeping with her would gain frostbite for their efforts to raise her passion and loose her self-control.

Frigid... Cold fish...

She shivered lightly, despite the coziness of the room.

"My lady," he murmured, still cupping her face like a priceless treasure. His thumbs brushed her cheekbones. "Tell me the cad who has caused you this pain."

She broke and told him about Ron and Molly- the constant harassment by Ron in the form of flowery messages meant to woo her into being his mistress, Molly's cruel commentary, even Astoria's casual cruelty... She told him how she had cared for Ron, though she avoided the word love because this was supposed to be her true heart's mate and mentioning that she might have once loved Ron Weasley seemed rude.

Then, finally, she mentioned her failed intimate encounter. Without going into details, she explained that Ron- by then a 'seasoned veteran' of Hogwarts' broom closets and Knockturn Alley's by-the-hour no-questions-asked 'hotels'- had declared seducing her to be a lost cause, that she was frigid and selfishly wanting to 'trap some poor bloke without letting him sample the wares.'

All because she wanted to be a virgin when she entered her marriage bed.

Salazar shook his head once her narrative was over. "You've been sorely abused by this young Weasley and his mother, my lady. I do not recall my father ever speaking such regarding my lady mother. He was always most gracious and generous in speech and gesture where she was concerned."

She smiled softly. "My father always brings home a flower for my mother. Every day since they were wed."

She didn't really want to relax around Salazar, yet he set her instinctively at ease. She could 'hear' Hogwarts singing a welcome to her long-gone Master, feel wards adjusting and a balance being achieved. The joy of the castle eased her as well because the last time she had heard Hogwarts sing welcome was 1 September 1999.

Suddenly, power was surging through her and the voice of the castle was clearer than ever. Mistress...

"Intoxicating, isn't it, my lady?" he murmured in her ear. Somehow, he now stood behind her, his arms crossing over her chest. She hadn't the foggiest idea of when he had moved from in front of her.

"Am I?" she queried. "Your lady, I mean."

"Mia domina, mia regina," he whispered. "My cwene."

Her body hummed with the power influx, hair visibly crackling and tiny dustmites of magic swirling at the edges of her vision. "Hermione to your Salazar."

He nodded against the crown of her head. "Wouldst ask a boon of thee, domina," he murmured into her hair.

" I cannot imagine what favour you would ask of me, Salazar. With Occlumency, you have my knowledge. That's the only thing worthwhile I can offer you."

"Untruth, domina. I would ask to honour you. To be allowed to bring you joy."

She froze.

"Grant me your trust, my lady. I am already sworn to cause you no harm, to ensure your safety."

She took a moment to think about his 'boon.'

She didn't have too much longer before their six hour deadline and she knew there was no way for Salazar to make her completely comfortable with him in the meagre few hours of 'courting' that they had been granted. Courting could come later, after the Calling had been consummated.

Thinking about comfort brought back to mind how much larger than she that he was. He towered over her and... sweet, merciful Morgana... He would rip her in two like a wet paper bag if the old sayings about everything being 'proportionate' and 'big hands, big you-know-whats' were true.

He tilted her head back and kissed her much like he had on the other side of the Veil. Slow, like there was no deadline and he had forever to convince her to offer him her honour. He was sweet with just the right amount of naughty nips at her lower lip and soft growls that made her sigh unconsciously. He kissed like a diving expedition, constantly delving just a little deeper once a safe zone was established.

Oh, what a delightfully dangerous man, her subconscious said in a voice that sounded like her grandmother. Then again, her grandmother had been the one to tell her that every girl should have one relationship that spun her beyond control, drove her crazy, was the affaire de couer that still made her blush like a schoolgirl when she was old and grey.

She purred and spun in his arms, her hands clutching his shoulders while his fingers delved into her hair. "Such a sweet Gryffindor princess," he whispered. "All fire and she purrs for me."

She tossed her head and boldly slipped her hands under his leather vest. While the leather was buttery-soft, the muscle beneath it was hard and deliciously warm. He tried to keep her from sliding it off his shoulders and down his arms, but she distracted him with shy, kittenish nibbles on his collarbone.

"Need the words, my lady," he murmured, forcing her back from a particularly hard bite near the carotid artery.

"And if I decline your boon?" she queried mischeviously. Her mischief was quickly turned to dismay when he pushed her back and closed his eyes.

"I can only give you as much time as we have been given, Hermione. We have not been given much but I will not force you."

She grasped his shoulders, causing his eyes to open, dark though they were with concern. "I wouldst offer thee my honour, Lord Slytherin," she said formally.

"Domina," he breathed as her fingers stumbled over the buttons on her creme-coloured blouse. He stopped her again, kissing her fingertips. "Let me honour your offer."

She nodded and smiled softly as his fingers caught on her buttons, causing a growl of frustration. It took a moment for his fingers to adjust to the delicate items, but once they did, she was out of her blouse in a trice!

"Merciful Hecate. What is this?" he queried, cupping her breasts in his palms, thumbs smoothing over where the cup of her bra ended and her skin began.

"A brassire. A bra."

"And what does it do besides turn men's minds into porridge?" he growled.

"It..." Her mind drew a blank at the realization that the sight of her breasts in her bra made his mind 'turn into porridge.' She took a deep breath. "It lifts and supports a woman's breasts so they do not cause her pain."

"And you have many, many more of these brassieres?"

"Yes," she confirmed.

"Good."

He slipped a knife from Merlin-only-knew where and sliced between the cups of her bra. The blade then disappeared and his mouth was everywhere the cups had covered. "Say it again, witchling," he ordered during his exploration

She moaned softly. "Say what?"

"Your boon, domina. Repeat your boon," he demanded before suckling on one nipple, causing her back to arch in delight. He seemed to be mimicking his kisses at her breasts and she thrilled in it.

"I wouldst offer you my honour... Oooh, Salazar!" she whimpered as he got inventive.

"Virgo intactus?" he queried and she nodded dazedly. He smiled and she was almost able to ignore the intense possession in his eyes. "In truth, then, my lady wife, undefiled and beyond reproach. I shall delight in honouring your offer."

It was so easy to simply let her head fall back and savour his easy exploration of her body. She was surprised at the ease with which he destroyed her perception of herself as passionless. Her mild introspection was interrupted when Salazar stood and backed away from her, nostrils slightly flared and eyes lustful as he gazed at her in only her underthings and stockings.

"How is it that you can make me think of the Christian Madonna- all pure innocence-, yet also make me want to do-" He broke off into Welsh that she hadn't a prayer of understanding. "You will tell me the names of these garments. Later."

Hermione's evil streak could be a mile wide and she had read enough of her mother and grandmother's romance novels to recognize that she had Salazar Slytherin on the edge of his control. And she hadn't even really tried. That was unacceptable.

"Well, if you really want to know..." she drawled wickedly. Her fingers started at her collarbone and slipped down. "This, as I previously informed you, was a bra. I'm glad you liked it."

His eyes followed her fingers with rapt attention even as he laughed quietly. "Liked it, mia domina? Far too mild a word."

She smirked. "Then, I shall continue enlightening you on my underthings." He sat in a chair and nodded his approval. Her fingers slid down to the half-corset and slowly loosed it's ties. "This is a half-corset. Some women use it to improve their figure."

"Not you, though, my lady."

"Correct."

"Why do you wear such a contraption that leaves scarlet welts on your flesh?"

"I damaged my spinal cord and some of the muscles around it in the last war. While not strictly medically necessary, I feel better with the extra bit of support that it offers me."

He nodded in understanding, though she thought she saw fury in his expression for a microsecond.

"You'll like the rest of your enlightenment," she promised. "These are stockings. They are attached to a garter belt." She was careful to give her walk a bit of lazy hip swaying, just to see his reaction to her bending over to pick up the stockings and garter belt. His fingers were digging into the chair, much to her delight, and there was a very obvious bulge in his lap that she forced herself not to worry about.

(After all, thirty was middle aged in his time and there was no way that he, too, was a virgin. He was a considerate enough lover thus far and that practically screamed experience.)

"And that lovely scrap of fabric, my lady?"

"Knickers," she replied. "Fancy French knickers to cover a woman's most secret places."

"I want to see your fingers slowly pull them down and toss them to me."

She complied as slowly as she could before gliding over to hand the 'scrap of fabric' to him. "I want a boon from you now, my lord."

"My lady?"

"I should like to see your pants on the floor beside my skirt."

He grinned roguishly and her stomach did a funny flip. As his pants hit the floor, her mouth went dry and she took a deep breath. He was going to either feel mind-blowingly amazing inside her or her thoughts on a wet paper bag were going to be true.

"Hermione..?"

She nodded and stepped forward, smoothing her hands over his chest. "Salazar."

He groaned softly and swept her away in another of his brain-numbing kisses. His direction of the buildup of her passion was masterfully and deliberately destructive. Letting go and simply following where he wanted her body to go was simple. When she came back to herself for a mere moment, she didn't know when she had started grinding against his thigh, but it had to be the dirtiest thing she had ever done- and it felt fantastic.

He walked backwards and pulled her on top of him on the bed. "Once more, Hermione," he groaned before again trailing off into Welsh, tone pleadingly harsh.

She leaned down and ignored his plea, focusing on a silver chain and crystal phial around his neck. "What's this, Salazar?"

He shuddered as her hand slid down his abdomen and brushed his groin. "It... for..." His hips jerked, but she kept her touch teasing. "Virgin's blood, willingly offered thrice," he ground out. His hand stretched for her's and wrapped it around his cock. "Hard grip. Slow."

She nodded and accepted his corrections. A few strokes and he moaned softly. "Say it once more, Hermione."

"I offer you my honour, Salazar Slytherin," she whispered in his ear.

He moved her hand away and settled his hands on her hips. "I accept and honour your offer, Hermione Slytherin," he replied.

The magic that had been pulsing under her skin since she had felt Hogwarts wards adjusting exploded and she saw white as her back arched and orgasm ripped through her.

There was no pain as Salazar shoved inside of her, stretching virgin muscle and trembling beneath her. She watched as the phial filled with her blood and was curiously aroused at the sight. She could feel herself clenching around Salazar, hear his hiss and the soft slap of his thighs against hers as he gave a helpless half-thrust.

"You glow for me, my lady,' he whispered.

She hummed softly, hips rolling testingly. She felt powerful as she rocked against him, testing different depths and angles. He let her and she knew that he was the kind of lover she had sought, even when she had expected that she would marry Ron and raise a brood of Weasleys.

"Let me join our minds, Hermione," he pleaded. She nodded and cried out as she suddenly felt twice the arousal. Salazar groaned and rolled her onto her back before beginning a series of experimental thrusts. When she lodged no protests, he hummed his approval, whispering exotic words against her breasts as she felt what he felt.

There was no difficulty in understanding the fertility spell he whispered against her lips, but indignation was quickly buried by the need for more because this was the moment she had heard her roommates brag about, that the heroines in the romance novels swooned over.

And he completed her so effortlessly, despite the knowledge that he was holding back, awaiting her pleasure.

Her breath hitched and his fingers, so warm from his use of wandless magic, delved and found, stroked and her world crashed again.

Only this time, she wasn't alone, and the link between their minds doubled amd trebled the pleasure until she couldn't breathe for the need to scream her pleasure for the world to know.

He chuckled slightly as they began to recover and started to sift through each other's minds casually, focusing on random surface thoughts. She lazily lifted an eyelid at his amusement. "My lady, I am pleased that you think I pleasured you so well, but I think you should know that there is far more to sex than what we just did."

She smirked. "My lord, I think you should know that sex has changed more than a bit since the ninth century. Once you give me some time to recuperate, I believe I'll introduce you to a text called the Kama Sutra."