Becoming Familiar with a Man of Misery

Chapter 57 ~ Cravings and Dreams

Severus apparated directly to Hogwarts to complete his afternoon classes. Dumbledore took his morning class. He could only imagine what a fiasco that had been. His student quailed when he billowed in. They had heard he was absent for the day. Obviously they had been misinformed.

“Get out your gloves,” Severus said imperiously. “You will be cleaning refuse out of Manticora entrails today.”

The students groaned as the Potions Master smirked openly.

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“I want spaghetti with just a bit of sauce,” Hermione told Eli stubbornly as he offered her a delicious ham sandwich with baked chips and a small salad.

“Not proper food, Mistress. This is better,” Eli said, waving the plate back and forth under her nose.

“I told you what I want, Eli. I’m absolutely dying for spaghetti with a little sauce. I want it cold too,” Hermione demanded.

Eli’s ears cocked toward her as he realized what this was. The Mistress was craving. Eli had dealt with craving years ago. Severus’ mother craved dry bread. It had to be very crunchy. It was difficult to get her to eat anything else until she had it.

Eli looked at Hermione and sighed.

“Very well, Mistress. I makes you spaghetti,” he said, putting the sandwich in the cooler.

“Thank you, Eli,” Hermione said, smiling. She could almost taste it.

As Eli puttered around the kitchen, Hermione thought about Severus’ visit to her school. An image of the entire institution in flames filled her mind.

“No…he wouldn’t do that,” she told himself.

Then the image of a very beaten and broken Professor Floodsworth appeared.

“He might do that though,” she thought wryly. But she hoped he didn’t. Severus could be arrested for assaulting the teacher, no matter how much he deserved it. And it really wouldn’t help anything.

Then the vision of Dean Wankton hoisted up the flagpole that stood in front of the Administration building, the rope strung through his dress robes, struggling wildly as Severus stood below looking up at him with a self-satisfied little smirk floated through her thoughts.

Hermione giggled. She could see him doing that too. Then she sobered. Whatever her husband to be was doing at the school, she could be sure it would be of some import. Severus was a force to be reckoned with when angered. She only hoped he could show some restraint. She saw the rage seething beneath the surface. When he took her last night, he whispered passionately over and over how she was the most intelligent witch of the age, and he would allow no one to hold her back from her destiny. He was so determined she would succeed.

Hermione felt a swell of love for the wizard wash over her.

Eli set a plate of cold spaghetti with a hint of sauce in front of the witch, disapproval in his brown eyes. He offered her a fork.

“No, I’ll use my hands, Eli,” Hermione said, lifting several long pieces with her thumb and forefinger. She leaned her head back, dangling the strands over her face, then dropped them into her mouth and sucked them in with an appreciative slurp.

Eli stared at her. Never had he seen anyone eat this way before.

“Oh, this is perfect, Eli!” she gushed, gathering more spaghetti with her fingers. The elf shook his head and sat down across from her.

“Maybe Mistress will eat salad after?” he asked her hopefully. Cold spaghetti was not enough. Hermione looked at the elf’s furtive expression.

“All right,” she said.

Eli smiled and practically ran to the cooler, removed the small salad and returned, setting it on the table beside the rapidly disappearing plate of spaghetti.

“Is good salad. Cheese, turkey and vegetables. Good for the baby, Mistress,” he said encouragingly.

Finished with her spaghetti, Hermione plucked the meat and cheese out of the salad. Eli couldn’t get her to eat any more and finally gave up. He would give her more vegetables at dinner. He cleared the table and was in the process of scourgifying the dishes when he heard Hermione gasp. He turned quickly and rushed over to her.

“Is Mistress all right?” he asked, his ears flat against his head with worry.

“Yes, Eli, the baby is moving,” she said.

The elf looked at her belly and saw small quick pulses. His brown eyes grew soft. He peered up into Hermione’s face.

“May Eli touch Mistress?” he asked, “Touch the little one?”

The expression on the elf’s face touched Hermione’s heart. It was plain to see he loved the child she carried.

“Yes Eli,” she responded.

The elf beamed at her and slowly, reverently placed his clawed hand on her protruding belly. The child moved under it. Then to Hermione’s surprise, the elf leaned his head against her, his ear placed against her roundness.

“I hears you little one,” the elf said softly, his hand rubbing Hermione’s lightly. The witch didn’t feel repelled. On the contrary, Eli was very comforting.

“You is loved,” he whispered, “Very loved. We waits for you.”

After one more caress, Eli lifted his head and looked up at Hermione. His eyes were wet.

“Thank you, Mistress,” the elf said. He looked as if he were going to burst into tears at any moment.

“You’re welcome Eli. Thank you for caring for our child so much,” she responded softly, rubbing his head between his ears. The elf rolled his head in pleasure for a moment.

“He is my next Master, Mistress,” the elf said, “I is already bound to him.”

Hermione stared at the elf.

“He, Eli?” she asked him.

“Aye, Mistress. You carries a son, you does,” Eli replied, smiling at her.

“But, how do you know, Eli?” Hermione asked him in amazement. Poppy could tell how healthy the baby was, but not the sex.

“I am bound to his service, Mistress. I knows, like I knows Master’s love for you,” he replied, returning to the dishes and scourgifying them.

Hermione stared at the elf for a long moment, marveling in the magic that passed between elf and those he served. It was obviously quite powerful.

“A son. Severus will be so happy,” she thought.

An image of a black-haired little boy standing next to his father, both of them scowling came to mind. She fought back a giggle and shook her head. With her luck, that’s exactly how it would be too. A snarky little son, the spitting image of Severus in looks and personality. Not that she would mind a bit.

Hermione suddenly let out a huge, unexpected yawn. She realized she was tired. She pushed herself from the chair and walked into the living room. The exhausted witch lay down on the sofa on her back, both hands wrapped around her belly and developing child, and closed her eyes.

Sleep came quickly.

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Hermione found herself in Voldemort’s throne room. She was pregnant and alone, though a lone fire burned in one of several floos that lined the wall.

“Severus? Severus!” she called. No one answered.

As she wandered about the empty room, there was a “foomph!” and she spun to see the fire in the grate turn green. She hoped it was Severus, coming through to find her. But it wasn’t. Instead, it was Voldemort.

He was gray and mottled, his robes in tatters and he walked stiffly. But his eyes still glowed red. The wizard raised an accusing finger and pointed it at the witch.

“You had no intentions on saving me!” he cried in his high-pitched voice, walking toward her with that frightening gait.

Hermione screamed and ran as best she could, but her belly was so large she couldn’t move too quickly. She tried several locked doors to no avail, and discovered she didn’t have a wand.

Voldemort stalked toward her, and Hermione could see with horror that maggots were eating at one side of his face. The wizard was dead and after her. He drew closer.

“You thought you killed me, but I’m not dead. I’m just waiting,” he hissed, his red eyes dropping to her belly. “The time is almost here, so I’m taking what’s mine now, witch.”

Hermione backed against the wall, her escape blocked by the shuffling wizard. He stopped about five feet from her.

“Now I am renewed!” Voldemort cried and dove at her, shrinking and passing through her flesh into her swollen belly. The witch screamed as she absorbed the dead wizard.

“See you in a few months, Mother,” the voice of Voldemort whispered.

Hermione screamed and screamed.

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“Hermione! Hermione! Wake up, love! Wake up!”

Severus had stepped through the floo to the witch’s screams. In his worry and concern he had called her ‘love’ without realizing it as he rushed to her side, knelt and shook her gently. Eli winked in immediately.

“What is wrong with Mistress?” the elf asked, his ears flattened and eyes whirling with worry.

“A nightmare it seems,” Severus replied, trying to wake the screaming witch.

Finally Hermione’s eyes flew open with a gasp. She clutched her stomach.

“He’s in me! He’s in my baby!” she screamed hysterically, her hands moving over her protruding belly. Severus pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her.

“Hermione! It was a dream, you’re safe. No one is in you or our child. Hermione, I’m here,” the Potions Master said, holding her tightly until she relaxed and started sobbing.

Severus held her securely and let her cry herself out. Eli shook his head.

“Nothing good comes of cold spaghetti,” he said, looking at the sniffling witch.

Hermione pulled away from Severus, her amber eyes wide with horror.

“It was terrible, Severus…just terrible,” she said trembling.

The Potions Master climbed up on to the couch and pulled her against him.

“What did you dream?” he asked her, holding her tightly.

“Voldemort. He came back from the dead and entered my body,” she said shuddering. “I could feel him go inside me. He ran at me and just dove in through my skin. It was awful. Then he said “I’ll see you in a few months, mother.”

“It was just a dream, Hermione. What did you eat before you went to sleep?” Severus asked her.

“Some cold spaghetti and sauce, and a couple of pieces of turkey and cheese,” she responded.

Severus scowled at Eli, who held up his hands.

“I does my best, sir. The Mistress is cravings, Master. Witches won’t eat if cravings sir. I does my best,” the elf said, bowing slightly and trembling. He didn’t like to displease his Master.

Severus looked back at Hermione.

“Cold spaghetti?” he asked her, frowning slightly.

“I felt like I’d die if I didn’t have it, Severus,” the witch replied, clutching his arm tightly.

The wizard sighed. He had been perusing books about pregnancy and read about the strange food cravings pregnant witches got. He had hoped Hermione wouldn’t go through that. But obviously she was.

Severus got a better idea of just how bad her cravings were that night. He didn’t tell her what happened at the university that day. He promised to tell her all tomorrow. He wanted to collect her transcripts and transfer papers first. She had protested, but he was firm.

The wizard was sound asleep, when he felt a hand smooth across his cheek.

“Severus? Severus, wake up,” Hermione said urgently.

The Potions Master’s eyes fluttered. The witch pushed him hard.

“What?” he said snarkily, his eyes snapping open, bloodshot and red.

“I want banana chips,” she said, looking at him.

“You want what?” he said, waking more fully and turning to look at her. Then he reached for his wand and turned up the torches.

“I have a craving for banana chips,” she said again, rubbing her stomach.

“And just what, pray tell am I supposed to do about that?” he asked her.

Hermione frowned at him.

“Go and get me some,” she said simply as if they were in a cabinet in the kitchen.

“What! Do you have any idea what time it is? Where am I supposed to find banana chips at this time of night?” he asked her, both eyebrows raised.

“There is an all night market in Little Hangelton proper,” Hermione replied. “You can get them there.”

Severus looked at the clock.

“But Hermione, it is after three in the morning,” he said.

“But Severus, the baby wants banana chips,” she whined at him.

Severus’ eyes went wide at this statement.

“The baby wants…the baby? Dear gods, Hermione,” he said sitting up in the bed now and scowling down at her.

“Pleeeeeaase,” she said, “I can’t help it that I’m craving, Severus. It’s part of being pregnant. I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t want them so badly. Though I suppose I could go myself…if you don’t want to…”

She started to sit up. Severus sighed and rolled out of bed.

“I’ll go,” he groused, walking to the wardrobe and slipping on his robes and pulling his boots on over his bare feet. He turned and looked at her.

“Banana chips. Anything else?” he asked her.

Hermione looked thoughtful.

“Pickles. Dill,” she said. Severus looked up at the ceiling for a moment.

“All right. Pickles and banana chips. I’ll be right back,” he said, disapparating.

The Potions Master appeared in front of the all night market. It was cold, and he clutched his robes around him. All he had on underneath was a pair of silk boxers. He was in a foul mood when he entered the market and stalked up to the counter. The young wizard behind it paled, thinking a red-eyed vampire had just walked into his store.

“Banana chips. Pickles,” Severus grunted at him.

The wizard pointed at a rack full of assorted chips.

“Banana chips should be right there, sir,” the wizard said rather weakly, hoping the creature would buy what it wanted and leave his store without biting him.

“And the pickles?” Severus snarled at him, almost making the poor young man piss himself.

“Down aisle two on the right sir,” the wizard responded.

Severus walked over to the chip rack, and after a close investigation, located what he was looking for. Then he stalked down the aisle, grabbed the biggest jar of dill pickles they had and returned to the counter. He set the items down.

“How much?” he growled.

The clerk told him. Severus felt his pockets then scowled. His coin purse was in his pants. Damn it.

“I’ve forgotten my purse,” the Potions Master said to the clerk, glaring. He wasn’t actually angry with the clerk…he was just looking at him. The frightened young wizard pushed the items toward the Potions Master.

“Just…just take them sir. You can come back and pay for them later…or not at all. It’s up to you. Please…take them and go.”

Severus raised an eyebrow at the wizard, then picked up the items and left the store. He’d pay for them later. He disapparated.

The clerk heaved a sigh of relief when he heard the thunder crack. He really needed to find a job with better hours.

Severus reappeared in his bedroom and handed the chips to Hermione. He set the pickles on the nightstand, shrugged out of his robes and tossed them on the chair, too tired to make the effort to hang them up as he usually did. He climbed into bed and watched Hermione tear the bag open, stick her small hand in and remove a slice of banana. She crunched down on it and made an amazing amount of noise chewing it.

“Mmmm, so good. Thank you, Severus,” she said, leaning in and kissing him on the lips. She tasted of banana.

He grunted in reply. His black eyes washed over her as she ate her chips, and he felt a little throb. Hm. He had gone out in the middle of the night to get her pickles and chips. A little reward should be in order. He hadn’t gotten any tonight. His eyes swept over her again.

“Are you almost finished chomping on those?” he asked her, sliding a little closer.

“Yes,” she said with a satisfied sigh and folding the bag down. “They were delicious.”

Severus took the bag from her and placed it on the nightstand, next to the unopened jar of pickles. Hermione lay back down, sated. Severus continued to look at her so intently, she felt him and looked over.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked him.

“Do you really have to ask, Hermione?” he purred, “You roused me out of a perfectly sound sleep to go out into the cold night for pickles and banana chips. Now that I’m back, I find myself still roused,” he said, his eyes flicking toward his tented boxers.

“Oh,” Hermione said looking at his erection and then back at him. She yawned exaggeratedly.

“I’m kind of tired, Severus,” she said.

His eyes glinted at her.

“I was tired too,” he responded, pulling the witch towards him and rolling her so her back was facing him, “but don’t worry…I’ll do all the work.” He pulled up Hermione’s nightgown and pulled down his boxers, releasing his cock. He shifted closer to her, and lifted her leg slightly, then penetrated her with a sigh. Hermione groaned as he filled her.

“Yessss,” he sighed, beginning to thrust, burying his cock in her warmth. The witch began to move against him, moaning as he pistoned into her body faster. Severus reached around and clutched Hermione’s breast, fondling it as he stroked her, feeling her peaked nipple beneath his palm. He wasn’t fucking her too hard, but just hard enough to be satisfying, the witch emitting little gasps as he touched bottom. She began to tighten, crying out and he slid his hand to her belly, groaning as she orgasmed around his cock, the flood of her releasing pouring over him as her inner muscles squeezed and clutched at his shaft.

Severus let go with a grunt, releasing into his lover, pleasure washing over him as he felt his flow added to hers.

“Mmmm,” he growled against her ear as his pulsing eased. “Worth a trip to the market in the middle of the night.”

Hermione sighed then gasped as Severus slid out of her, then pulled her against him, kissing her soundly before laying his head back and closing his eyes, satisfied.

“Good night, Severus,” she whispered to him. His arm tightened around her.

“Good night, love,” he responded sleepily.

Hermione’s eyes widened at the endearment, then softened as she snuggled into her husband-to-be. She wouldn’t ruin the moment by saying anything.

Maybe he’d say it again.

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A/N: Another chappie with a small lemon. Some scary dream. I gave Hermione my own craving for cold spaghetti during my first pregnancy. I ate so much of it, my daughter couldn’t eat spaghetti without bringing it up for the first five years of her life. Lol. At least that’s my explanation for her intolerance of it. <g>. Anyway, please review.

SNAPESLAVE: I am recieving your emails but can’t respond because they keep getting sent back to me for some reason…even your old email address. I appreciate you writing me.

PLEASE REVIEW “BECOMING FAMILIAR” >>> NEXT CHAPTER

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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 58

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