Becoming Familiar with a Man of Misery

Chapter 12 ~ A Knock in the Night

At about ten o’clock at night, Hermione heard a knock on her door. She had been sitting in her study reading, trying to keep her mind off of the Potions Master. She had cried a few buckets worth of tears and was all cried out now. She had to get back on track.

“Who is it?” she called.

“Severus,” an unfamiliar voice answered her. It sounded like the Potions Master, but it didn’t

Hermione didn’t answer. What did he want now?

“Hermione, open the door. I have something for you,” the Potions Master said with a slight slur as he leaned against the door with one hand.

Hermione still didn’t answer him.

“Please,” he said.

This made Hermione sit up. He had actually said please. Something was going on here. Grabbing her wand in case Raucous was with him, she walked to the door and stood in front of it.

“I’m not going to leave until you open the door,” the Potions Master said thickly. Hermione realized he was drunk. Taking a deep breath, Hermione opened the door, lifting her wand and pointing it at the wizard. He looked at the tip of it cross-eyed.

“Going to hex me, Miss Granger?” he asked her, his bloodshot eyes looking into hers. He had a bowl in his hand. He held it out.

“Here,” he said.

Hermione took the bowl. It was a pensieve. The silver liquid swirled as if it had a life of its own.

“What is this?” she asked him.

“Truth,” the Professor replied, moving away from the door. Before she closed it, Hermione heard him say in a low, slurred voice that she was obviously not meant to hear, “I was desperate. I’m sorry.”

Then there was a loud thump, a curse, then the sound of a door closing.

Hermione looked down at the pensieve.

Desperate?

She closed the door and walked back into the room. She stopped by the armchair and set the pensieve carefully down on the table. She sat in the chair and stared at it for a good half an hour. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see what was in it. The fact that the Professor was drunk when he brought it to her made her worry about the contents. Anything could be in there.

But she had to know.

She took a deep breath, then stuck her finger in the bowl and found herself in the Dark Arts office, standing behind Severus as he spoke to Marcus. She listened to their conversation.

“I’ve told her I don’t want her but she continues to pursue me. I need you to divert her attentions. Will you help me?”

“Well, I don’t know. She’s a bookworm. Those types are really difficult to unthaw. Plus she’s a virgin. I haven’t popped a cherry in years. That’s even more work. Not only to I have to get her to loosen up, I have to go through all that ‘I’m scared’ and ‘be gentle’ shit if I do get her in bed.”

Hermione’s mouth dropped open in shock. She continued to listen.

“Mr. Delaluci, would you happen to have a pensieve?”

“Yeah, I do. Hold on a moment,”

Hermione watched with a frown as Severus put his thoughts into the pensieve and slid it over to Marcus.

“I think you should take a look at that, Mr. Delaluci. It might help you make up your mind.”

Marcus stuck his finger in the bowl, and his expression changed. He licked his lips. Impulsively, Hermione rushed forward and stuck her finger in the bowl. She didn’t know if she could view a pensieve in a pensieve, but she thought she might be able to. She was. It was a pensieve of her undressing, getting ready to take a shower. How had Severus seen this? Then she realized. Raucous. She withdrew her finger the same time Marcus did.

“Damn. And you don’t want to hit that? Tell me something, Snape. Are you batting for the other team?”

“No, Mr. Delaluci. I am not gay.”

“Well, then you are some kind of monk or something. There’s no way I’d pass up fucking that witch if she offered herself to me. You must be into self-denial, self-punishment or something.”

“What I am into is myself, Mr. Delaluci. I don’t need a witch in my life.”

“Well, the whole thing doesn’t make much sense to me, but I tell you what. I like what I saw, and enjoy small witches. You can do a lot with them physically, and they’re usually screamers. I love a screamer. You’ve got your wizard, Snape. I’ll fuck her so good she’ll forget all about you, believe me. Now let’s talk galleons.”

The scene in the pensieve suddenly changed. Now she was standing with Marcus and the Potions Master in the hallway outside the staff exit of the Great Hall. They were engaged in another conversation.

“I have good news, Mr. Delaluci. Your services are no longer needed. The witch has told me she will desist in her pursuit of me. It’s over. Of course, you may keep the money I’ve given you. You did help to bring this about.”

“Well, Professor, I’m happy for you, and even more happy for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if Hermione has given up on you, I imagine it is because you said something to her that made her realize her love was wasted on you. She’s going to need…comforting. Women in her position are ripe for the pickings. They want someone to hold them, comfort them, make them feel better. Her inexperience ought to make her very easy to fuck at this point in time.”

“Surely you don’t mean to continue to pursue her, Mr. Delaluci?”

“I most certainly do. I want what I saw in that pensieve, Snape. You might not appreciate that sweet body, but I sure do. I’d do her without your money. And I intend to. I haven’t washed blood off my cock in a long, long time. I believe I’m overdue. You’re all right with this, aren’t you Snape? I mean you didn’t want her, and she’s finally written you off. It’s only right another bloke takes a shot at her. She’s gorgeous after all, and I’ve got a hell of a good chance of fucking her.”

“You can do what you want to her, Mr. Delaluci. She was a concern to me only because of her hopeless pursuit.”

“You have no idea what I’m going to do to her, now that it’s open season and I’m not under contract. I’ll see you later, Snape.”

Hermione was suddenly back in the armchair. She slowly withdrew her finger from the pensieve and stared down at it for a moment.

Then she stood up, picked the bowl up and threw it with all her strength against the fireplace, shattering the bowl into pieces, the silver contents spilling on the floor and evaporating.

Then she screamed, a loud, piercing, animal-like scream

Next door, sitting in his armchair and drinking another firewhiskey, Severus heard her. She was just that loud.

“I guess she viewed the pensieve, Raucous,” he said to the raven thickly.

Raucous stood on the table looking nervous. The witch sounded upset, and she was already mean as hell. The raven took cover in the rafters, flying up to the highest beam and shuffling deep into the shadows. Raucous hunkered down, trying to make himself as small as possible, his beady black eyes focused on the study door as if on a death watch.

“Funny, I always thought the Dark Lord would kill me,” Severus said thoughtfully, staring at the deep amber liquor in his glass and waiting for Hermione to burst into his rooms and Avada Kedavra him.

But the witch never showed up.

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A/N: Oh shit. Please review.

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The Burning Pen

Becoming Familiar with a Man of Misery
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 13

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