Chapter Seventeen – Staying Out of Trouble

Summary: HG/SS. Hermione is forced to marry a pureblood wizard – can she learn to live with her choice? A response to the WIKTT Marriage Law Challenge.

Disclaimers: I own none of it. Everything you recognize is owned by JK Rowling, her publishers or someone else, but not me. I'm just playing with the characters for a little bit. Please don't sue me; I have nothing. (And for anything I inadvertently lifted from someone else's fan fic, I profusely apologize. I've read so many and worked this idea over so many times I'm sure that I've added things without meaning to.)

A/N: Again, thank you to those of you who are still with me. I had no idea that the ride would be this long and I adore you for hanging on to see how it ends. For your patience, I reward you with a much-longer-than-normal chapter and… (finally!) lemons! Those of you reading on the appropriately rated sites will get the whole story; those of you reading on the PG sites will get the brief version. All errors are mine. Given the length of time between postings, I was entirely too impatient to take anyone up on beta offers.

Hermione was able to locate the first floor library with relative ease, and spent the better part of her first full day as a Snape there. She poked about the house some, in blatant disregard of the portraits she seemed to disturb, but wasn't able to locate Severus' laboratory. She imagined that he had placed a fairly strong ward on the entrance to keep her from finding it, though. The house and grounds were large, but not so expansive that they would be able to entirely hide from one another otherwise.

When the weather was good, Hermione expanded her browsing to out of doors. There was a nicely groomed garden, with cobbled paths cleared of snow, though all but the evergreen plants had withered to skeletal remains for the winter. Hermione imagined that the area might be described as 'lush' in the spring, but would have to wait and see. When she asked Severus about it over dinner, he had merely offered a noncommittal noise and agreed that the gardens were 'nice'.

As the second week of her honeymoon drew to a close, Hermione began to get terribly restless. Severus was the only person she had seen or spoken to since the wedding. He disappeared as often as possible, and recently seemed reluctant to hold up his end of a conversation during meals or other times the pair found themselves together in the sitting room. With all mail-carrying owls being redirected for the duration of their stay, Hermione was growing desperate for some sort of interaction. Christmas was only a few days away, and she was sorely beginning to feel the lack of friends and family and genial interaction with other human beings.

Severus seemed to note her mood at dinner that evening.

"You've grown tired of the estate already?" he asked without looking up from his plate. There was little sense of query to the question.

Hermione looked up from her own meal, hoping to at least catch his eye, but was denied even that much interaction. She sighed quietly.

"Not at all," she said, dropping her eyes back to her plate and stabbing a bite of vegetables a bit more viciously than was really necessary. "The house is lovely, the grounds arranged beautifully and I'm sure the gardens will be quite charming come spring." If only the house held someone who was willing to hold a decent conversation! Or, at minimum, someone who didn't seem to want to flee the room the moment that she entered it. While they had yet to achieve a true sense of comfort with one another, Hermione had thought, back at Hogwarts, that they would be able to get through a few weeks without things feeling this terribly awkward. Not for the first time, she longed for the cumbersome politeness that their pre-marriage classroom and tea-time interactions had held. She couldn't imagine why empty vows and a wedding band should be such a set-back.

"And do you intend to be this surly until then?" Severus asked, finally meeting her gaze pointedly. "I rather suggest that you learn how to be an adult and cope without your playthings."

Hermione blinked in utter surprise. She was being surly? And had he just referred to her friends as 'playthings'? She opened her mouth to sputter a reply, but was interrupted by the most unexpected event – an owl fluttering to a stop on the windowsill and tapping the glass in a request for entry.

Gauging by how quickly Severus turned his head to the sound, he had not been expecting an owl, either. They had been assured that only mail of the highest priority would interrupt their time spent away from Hogwarts. The scowl on Severus' face when he retrieved the letter suggested that he knew what it was before he had broken the seal and read the brief sheet of parchment.

"Well, Mrs. Snape," he said dryly, returning to the table and letting the parchment fall beside Hermione's plate. "It appears as though you will have something new to occupy your time this evening."

Hermione picked up the letter without hesitation, and felt the blood drain from her face as she read. It was a missive from the Ministry, stating in rather blunt terms that she and Severus had reached the end of their grace period and were required to consummate their marriage immediately, or else find the union declared null and void.

With a controlled hand, Hermione placed the letter back on the table. She was very aware that Severus was watching her, but found it difficult to meet his gaze. She stared at her dinner plate instead, knowing full well that she would be unable to eat another thing.

After a moment's silence, Hermione heard the rustle of Severus' robes as he moved away from the table.

"I'll see you this evening," he said flatly, and disappeared into the hallway. Agreeing with the need to run away but not being inclined to follow through the same doorway, Hermione pushed away from the table and retreated to her bedroom.

Hermione lost some time sitting on her bed, staring sullenly at the wall. She shouldn't have been surprised by the contents of the letter. She had known that, at some point, the need would arise to actually consummate the marriage. But there was something decidedly off-putting about being told, via an impassive and impersonal note from some faceless Ministry employee, that that moment had come. She had hoped to be a bit more emotionally prepared, and wondered if his own preparations had led to Severus' recent distance. It would make sense, she supposed. He didn't seem any more eager than she to engage in the required actions.

With a sigh, Hermione roused herself. She supposed she should go about some sort of preparation, though she really had very little idea of what that should entail.

She bathed, that action making the most sense. She made sure that her legs were smooth and that no unwanted hair made an appearance anywhere else. She combed her hair and scented it very, very lightly. She filed her nails. She put on lip gloss. While Severus had to know that she wasn't exactly a willing partner, Hermione saw no reason to make the event any more difficult for him than it was already going to be.

Clean and back in her room, Hermione looked critically at the space. It had occurred to her that she had no idea if she would be entertaining him in her bed, or if it was to be the other way around. That was a decidedly uncomfortable thought, either way, and Hermione shook her head to get rid of it. She'd know soon enough. In the meantime, straightening up the little bit of clutter that she had accumulated would give her something to do.

Entirely too quickly for her own liking, her clothes were folded and put away, her school things stashed back in her bag, and her books neatly arranged on the shelves. She sighed again, feeling her stomach twist and tighten. How late was it getting to be? Would Severus let her know when it was time? Had he even come back to their suite?

A quick glance at the clock on her nightstand told Hermione that it was getting to be quite late. She knew that she had wasted as much time as possible in the bath, and that was in addition to the time she had spent lost in thought and cleaning her room. If Severus hadn't even made it back into their rooms yet, it was going to be an obnoxiously long night.

Screwing up her courage and ignoring what felt like her heart beating in her throat, Hermione tied her dressing gown over her pajamas and opened the door to the sitting room. It was dim, as it usually was at this time of night, lit only by the fireplace and a few candles that had been placed on the sideboard. Severus was nowhere to be seen, so Hermione crept further into the room. Perhaps he'd left a note…

There was nothing on the table, the sideboard or near the sofa. She scowled. Where in the world had he gone and when exactly was he planning to come back? As nervous as she had become, part of Hermione was ready to just get the whole thing over with so she could get some sleep.

Throwing a baleful glance towards Severus' bedroom, Hermione was surprised to find the door standing partially open. In the two weeks that they had occupied these rooms, Hermione had never seen his door open. From where she stood, she tried to see if he was inside, but the room beyond the doorframe was darker than the sitting room and she couldn't see inside. She crept forward a few steps, craning her neck, but still couldn't make any definite sense out of the shadowed shapes that she could make out.

Before she knew how she had covered the distance, Hermione found herself within arm's reach of Severus' door. Swallowing hard, she reached out a hand and knocked tentatively on the wooden frame.

"Severus?" she asked, her voice so quiet that it barely registered in her own ears.

She was greeted by a silence so thick that she was convinced that the room was empty. Perhaps she should just go back to her room and wait. Severus could send for her when he returned.

Just as Hermione turned to make the return trek across the sitting room, there was the sound of someone stirring from deep inside the shadows.

"Come in," Severus said.

Hermione seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. She stood several steps inside Severus' bedroom doorway, letting her eyes adjust to the dimmer light, her eyes the only bit of her moving. There was a fireplace, barely glowing, which was something that her room did not have. It was a perk of the Master Suite, she supposed, and was glad that there was so little light emanating from the grate. Between the barely-there glow of the dying fire and the heavy curtains that blocked almost every trace of moonlight, any embarrassment would be easily concealed.

A subtle movement drew Hermione's adjusting eyes. Severus had apparently only recently risen from a plush bench that rested at the footboard of a lavish but surprisingly narrow bed.

"A double?" she queried, the question forcing air into her nerve-constricted lungs. Given that the bed in her own suite was the same size she probably shouldn't have been surprised, though she had expected that the Master Suite would contain the largest, most grandiose bed as well.

Severus chuckled gently, Hermione's question obviously not what he had expected her to say first thing.

"My father was…fond of keeping his bedmates nearby."

Noting how his voice had soured towards the end of the statement, Hermione grimaced. They weren't getting off to a terribly good start. Her eyes were adjusting quickly to the near-darkness, now, and she noted that she and Severus were similarly dressed. He was wrapped into a dressing robe, pajama pants protruding from beneath and ending at the tops of a pair of slippers that made no noise as he moved across the carpeting.

"Well," Hermione said, nervous again.

Severus regarded her momentarily. "Yes. Well," he repeated.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Shall we, then?" she asked, aiming for bravery but hearing that her voice was pitched quite a bit higher than normal.

Severus chuckled again, a sound that was not easing Hermione's mind in the least, and moved towards the bench at the foot of the bed again. "I should have expected that you would approach this is in such a straightforward manner. If you are prepared," he undid the tie of his dressing robe and slipped the garment from his shoulders and onto the cushion of the bench, "then yes, we shall."

Hermione let out a nervous puff of breath when she realized that her professor, now her husband, stood before her bare to the waist. She swallowed, took a steadying breath, then stepped towards the bench and dropped her own robe there. She wore her 'sleepover pajamas' as she had not been able to bring herself to wear anything more revealing, and an 'I dare you' expression gleamed in her eyes.

"Hermione," Severus said quietly. He reached out to place a hand on Hermione's shoulder and she stiffened involuntarily. "This is something that must be done."

Hermione nodded and tried to relax. "I know," she said. "We signed a contract. We agreed to the terms."

Severus caught Hermone's eye, as though he wanted to make sure that he had her undivided attention. "I have no intention of hurting you."

Hermione nodded again, and felt that she actually had relaxed marginally. She hadn't imagined that Severus would be cruel, but it was something of a relief to hear, anyway. "I know," she assured him.

The corners of Severus' mouth turned up ever-so-slightly and he stepped back, offering Hermione an ushering motion towards the bed. Taking a deep breath and clenching her fists at her side, Hermione marched forward and crawled atop the blanketing. She had an odd moment then, unsure of what to do next. Sit there with her legs folded beneath her as if she were doing homework? Crawl deep under the covers? Keep her pajamas on or go ahead and remove them? She bit her lip in consternation, and turned questioning eyes to Severus.

He still stood beside the bed, watching her closely.

"This would be much easier for both of us if you might relax," he suggested, echoing a statement that Hermione had made during an early conversation. She laughed, somewhat nervously, in reply.

"I am trying." She moved herself slightly towards the far side of the bed, so that Severus might have room on the mattress. She tried to not think about what she was doing and did her best to squelch the rising sense of panic she felt when Severus sat down beside her.

Hermione bit her lip, glad once again for the dimness of the room. She clinched and released her fingers in her lap, wondering who was supposed to reach for whom first. Should she expect any sort of foreplay, and would her idea of the word match Serverus', or would they just move directly to the main event?

So intent on determining the appropriate next step, Hermione did not quite catch what Severus said next.

"Pardon?" she asked, startled that she was quite so wound up. She really did need to relax.

"I said, I brewed a potion that you might find useful," Severus repeated. "You'll find it on the nightstand."

Hermione turned her head towards the nightstand on her side of the bed and noted the slight gleam of a small glass bottle sitting there. She looked at Severus questioningly. "A contraceptive?" she queried. "I didn't think they were allowed."

"Alas, they are not," Severus said evenly. "While I do not have any desire to burden either of us with a child before it is either desired or necessary, I was unable to determine any way around that particular stipulation of our contract. That is a different variety of brew. To…help you enjoy the evening a bit more, if you wish," he added, hesitantly.

Hermione felt her cheeks warm and she glanced at the bottle again. There were a number of potions that she knew of which would allow her 'enjoy the evening', and she wondered which one might be waiting for her in the small bottle. She could ask, she knew, but quickly opted against it. The effects might range from a gentle emotional numbing to a disregard of inhibitions that she would most likely have forgotten by the morning.

"Thank you," she murmured, turning back to Severus once again, "but I think I'd rather have full control over my emotions this evening." The room was too dark for Hermione to be entirely certain, but she thought that she saw the smallest gleam of a smile from the other side of the bed.

"As you wish," Severus replied.

The question of who was supposed to do what and when was quickly answered as Severus leaned forward slightly and caught Hermione in a kiss. It was not chaste, as their wedding kiss had been, though it was also not so demanding as to be terribly frightening.

"Not going to run from the room screaming, then?" Severus asked when they separated, the slightest hint of amusement in his voice.

Hermione's heart thudded so hard in her chest that she was sure Severus could feel it from where he sat, but she swallowed down her nervousness as best she could and shook her head. "No."

"Good." Severus leaned forward again, his hand brushing the length of Hermione's closest arm before his lips claimed hers again. The second kiss was more demanding than the first and, when Hermione responded, became more exploratory in nature.

Hermione was unsure exactly how long they continued in such a manner, but there was no more conversation. She was pleased to note that she did not feel rushed, though Severus stepped up his attentions regularly. And while she could readily admit to herself that she was both mildly embarrassed and somewhat terrified, Hermione also had to admit that his attention was not entirely unpleasant. Severus had obviously been in similar situations before and was doing a good job – or so Hermione thought – of reading whatever signals she gave him. He had even wordlessly encouraged Hermione's own tentative actions, so that by the time she found herself lying back with her pajama top fully unbuttoned and removed, she had explored the line of his jaw with gentle kisses and her hands had mapped the skin of his chest and arms.

Hermione was unaware of having made any sound worth noting until she felt Severus' hand move from the swell of the breast that he was exploring with soft flicks of his tongue. His left hand had been resting, still, on her hip until it was joined by it's mate on her other side. She felt Severus curl his fingertips beneath the waistbands of both her pajama pants and her undergarments beneath and, with a deft motion, raise her hips from the mattress just enough that he might tug the fabric from its resting place. A small sound of panic escaped Hermione's throat and when Severus raised his head to look at her, she became aware that she had gripped his shoulders tightly.

"Second thoughts?" he murmured.

Hermione shook her head once again. "No," she replied, a bit more breathless than she had realized. A small grin and another tug at her pajamas was Severus' only reply. Hermione breathed deeply and discovered that the feel of his hand on her now-bare hip was not as disconcerting as she had worried that it would be. He had, apparently, figured out how to get her relaxed at some point.

His hands slid down the outside of her thighs, then her calves, before rotating slightly and traveling back up the insides of her legs. Hermione felt her rate of breathing increase as his hands climbed higher, and the touch she expected was tender rather than merely exploratory when it came. She made another small sound, not of panic this time, when Severus' fingers reached through the dense curls and discovered the hint of moisture that his earlier attentions had caused. Severus had his mouth on her stomach at the time, and she felt him grin against her. Embarrassed though she might have been, Hermione couldn't help chuckling a little bit herself. This was, all in all, going much more smoothly than she had dared to hope.

While Hermione could not ignore a core of unease when she thought about what she was doing, and with whom exactly, she was still able to find some enjoyment in the moment. The actions that Severus exposed her to (or performed upon her, as the case were) were not unpleasant, and even though she knew that she would likely blush through breakfast the following morning, Hermione did allow herself to give in to the emotions which coursed through her.

Severus seemed quite breathless himself at the point which he urged Hermione's knees farther apart. "You really are quite lovely," he murmured, causing Hermione to blush in the darkness as he raised himself above her. She knew what was coming next, and thought that she was prepared.

And yelped in surprised pain when Severus lowered himself onto and inside of her.

For the second time that evening, Severus paused and met Hermione's eyes. Their faces were quite close to one another, and accustomed as she had become to the darkness of the room, Hermione could see his features outlined in the dim firelight. Severus searched her face, saying nothing.

"The books said there would be a slight discomfort," Hermione gasped in explanation, her voice high with pain and embarrassment. "I think that 'slight' was used as a relative term."

Severus scowled.

"You've never done this before." It was not a question.

Hermione shook her head. Her teeth were planted firmly into her lower lip.

Taking a bit more of his weight onto his own elbows, Severus sighed. He shifted his weight and brushed a bit of Hermione's hair away from her face and off of her shoulder.

"I had presumed…" he said quietly.

Hermione shook her head again. The expression on Severus' face changed, though it was too dark for her to read his expression clearly. She wasn't sure what to think, and so concentrated simply on breathing. That seemed to help.

Severus touched her cheek gently with the fingers of one hand. "We have to continue," he told her softly.

"I know," she murmured.

She was surprised when Severus brushed her lips with his. "The worst of it is over," he informed her, his voice still quiet. "You may not be terribly comfortable this evening, but will find more enjoyment from this point."

Hermione nodded her understanding and forced a small smile. Severus slowly resumed his movements, though Hermione noted that he seemed to take extra care. She remained tense at first, trying to time her breathing to the motions of the man above her, and was still uncomfortable but beginning to relax slightly when he closed his eyes and began to up his pace. Hermione worried, until the touch of a hand made her gasp. She might not be able to share in Severus' moment this time, though he seemed intent on making sure that she had as pleasant a time as possible given the circumstances.

Hermione found herself breathless and squirming by the time that Severus reached his breaking point. She suspected that he was approaching his peak when his hands left her to grip the bedding on either side of her. His rate of breathing had increased significantly, and she noted that he was pushing deeper into her than he had in the beginning. With a final grunt and a shudder that hit a very nice spot of her own, Severus stilled. He held himself above Hermione for a moment, watching her, before kissing her chastely and removing himself to one side of the bed.

They lay silently for a moment, each catching their breath. Severus quietly intoned once more that Hermione would find greater enjoyment in the act in subsequent attempts and she, very quietly, admitted that she had not found the first attempt entirely unpleasant. She wasn't wholly certain why she had shared that embarrassing bit of truth, but it seemed important in the moment.

Severus made a noise that Hermione thought might be a chuckle, then muttered a series of charms that left them both clean.

"Now I suggest that you get some sleep," he said, pulling the heavy blankets over both of them. "It's quite late."

Hermione nodded and lost her reply in a large yawn. She had planned to bolt from the room as quickly as they had completed their task, but she discovered that she was quite warm and cozy beneath the blankets that Severus had pulled over her shoulder. She curled towards him to tell him that she would be returning to her own room, lost that statement in a yawn too, and promptly fell into a comfortable doze.