The Lesser Of Two Evils

The Lesser Of Two Evils

Written in response to "The Marriage Law" Challenge on WIKTT.

Chapter Four - Of Past and Present

"Well, I'm certainly pleased to know I'm preferable to Lavender!" Her expression turned serious again. "But you gave up so much to help me..."

---

"Hermione, I didn't give up all that much. And that bed you have been living in wasn't exactly one of my prized possessions. Apart from that, I would appreciate it if you stopped portraying me as the altruistic kind. I only married you because Albus asked me to, Hermione, it was not my idea."

"Oh, I'm sure it wasn't. Just as I'm sure that you could have just said 'no' and that would be the end of it."

"True. I accepted having to have a wife and ended up with a free Potions Assistant instead. I hardly call that sacrifice."

"Oh, Severus, don't try to lessen what you have given up. Just the fact that people know that you're married, it..." She paused.

"It? Go on, now, I am curious. What about the fact that people know I am married?"

Even in the dim light he could see her face turning a crimson shade that would do the Gryffindor banner justice.

"It's bound to affect your social life." She knew the words had come out wrong the minute she said them.

"My social life," he repeated with a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Oh, alright, your sexual life, then," she grounded out in frustration. "Women don't tend to flock to married men - not the right kind of women at any rate -, and I know you can't just go out explaining to everyone why we got married, and, anyway, it would be awkward for you to bring a... a date to the house where you have to have your wife in. And you can't even ask me to leave for the night without having to go through hell just to find me a safe place to stay!"

In the blink of an eye all traces of amusement had left him, to be replaced by hurt. His sexual life. Have a date to bring to that house. Ha! What a joke that was. If only she knew... If only she knew that, in thirty-nine years, his sexual life could be resumed to a single encounter - a single disastrous encounter - she wouldn't have brought it up. He could still recall the scene as if it had been yesterday.

It had been when he had just left Hogwarts, an eighteen year-old boy full of hatred and spite, proud to be a loyal Death Eater. Then he had met her. Bellatrix Black, the most beautiful girl his eyes had ever seen. And she had shown an interest in him. He had been beyond himself with joy, and done everything in his power to keep her happy. Then, one night, it seemed all of his dreams would come true. They had had dinner together and he had walked her home. Her inviting smile was still clear in his mind.

"Severus, my parents are out. Would you like to come in?"

His mind was fuzzy only as to what, exactly, had been the key event to lead him into her bedroom but, before he knew it, they were making love. And it was everything he had ever dreamt of. He remembered having held back for as long as he could, trying to please her in every way he knew until, finally, he could hold back no more and spilled into her. Then she had laughed. Hard, until her eyes were filled with tears of mirth.

"Gods! Gods, oh, Gods, Severus, is that the best you can do? If I had known it would be this bad I would have asked Lucius for more money. Dear Gods, that was awful!"

She had kept on speaking but, by then, he wasn't listening anymore, simply throwing his clothes on as fast as he could, and then running... straight to Malfoy Manor, where a surprised Lucius had ended up confirming that, indeed, he had offered her money, but that she wasn't supposed to have told him that, why had she told him, anyway? And why was he so upset, hadn't it been good to lose his virginity? And to Black's cousin, no less? Why, he, himself was dating her sister, Black's other cousin, Narcissa, and he was finding it extremely satisfactory. Severus had punched him. Well, yes, he might be dating Black's other cousin, but he wasn't paying her for it, now, was he?

He shook his head, attempting to fend off the humiliating memories, and got up, turning his back on his wife.

"You needn't concern yourself with that, Hermione. Women never showed any particular inclination to... flock to me, as you put it, even before we were married. As I am sure you can understand."

Hermione was surprised by the quiet bitterness in his voice. She hadn't thought he was a Casanova, of course, but that didn't account for the hurt he seemed so desperate to hide. 'As I am sure you can understand'... Well... if she were to think of him as only the man she had been taught by for seven years then, yes, she supposed she could. But if she thought of the selfless man who had married her and gone out of his way to ease her trial countless times then no, she could not. Particularly because, when she had mentioned his sexual life, she had been probing, and she had no reasonable explanation even to herself. She got up and went to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Severus,-"

"I believe you should be going to sleep. It is very late already."

She kept her hand. "Severus," she said more forcefully this time. He turned around to face her, blind rage in his eyes.

"What?" He asked through clenched teeth.

"No. I cannot understand why. The only reason I can see is that you hide yourself behind a mask most of the time, you refuse to let people see you. And it is difficult to like a mask."

He was so close to her now, black eyes that were usually glittering with one or other harsh emotion showing only surprise... She reached up a hand to cup his cheek and caressed it softly.

Severus found that he couldn't move. Her hand on his cheek was more effective by far than a full body bind. He wanted to do something, say something, but the moment wouldn't allow it. The only thing he would have been able to do would be to close his eyes, but he was too afraid to open them to discover she wasn't truly there.

And then it hit him. Straight in the chest, with the strength of a mad bludger. How he would feel when it was over, when Fudge was no longer the Minister, or when that stupid law had been revoked. How he would feel without her. Empty. Bereft. Worthless. As only a man who had lost the woman he loved could. And he had been too blind to read the signs in himself. He thought he would double over from the pain he felt. All that time he had been falling in love with her, and now it was too late. He would just have to learn to live with it, regardless of how much it hurt.

Hermione didn't know if she should feel encouraged or rejected by his lack of response. Feeling bold as only a Gryffindor could, she placed her other hand on his other cheek and stared into his eyes, trying to read him. Whatever was going on in his soul seemed painful enough when seen from the outside.

Was she really considering kissing him? And was the only thing stopping her the fear of rejection? She could barely recognise herself, and yet it seemed so undeniably right... She guided his face down gently, afraid of scaring him.

"But, when you show yourself, it's very easy to like you," she whispered. And then she kissed him.

For the first few seconds of their kiss it seemed he wouldn't react at all. Then his arms came around her, holding her and pulling her closer all at once, and she heard him make a muffled sound that might have been relief.

That day in the forest, when Draco Malfoy had cornered her, Hermione had been no virgin. Which had helped her overcome the trauma. And overcome it she had - completely, she had decided. Six months after what had happened she had been able to have sex and derive pleasure from it, a random encounter with an anonymous muggle she had used to re-establish her sexual confidence and put the bulk of her nightmares to rest. Yet now, in the arms of her husband, she was feeling more aroused by kissing him than she had ever felt in any of her willing sexual encounters in the past. And they hadn't even deepened the kiss yet. Which, considering he wasn't technically the best kisser she had ever had, could only mean what she had already begun to suspect: she was in love with him. And she didn't mind it at all.

Severus' mind was far less capable of coherent thought with her lips on hers than hers was in the same situation. He could think nothing at all, just feel. Just give himself into it and damn the consequences to hell. It had been twenty-one years since he had kissed a woman and, even then, he hadn't felt... this. He was certainly not going to waste that time thinking.

When they finally parted, and he was assaulted with all of his doubts once more, he was doing his best to control his shaking. He turned from her again and sat on the windowsill, staring outside at the moon. He let his breath out slowly, attempting to calm himself further and say something, but it was Hermione's voice that broke the silence.

"I'm sorry."

Sorry. Yes. Of course she would be, having just kissed him of all people.

"I'm not sorry for having kissed you, please don't ask me to apologise for that," she continued, "but I'm sorry if I crossed a boundary or stepped a line here. I'm sorry if by doing this I managed to turn myself into the burden I mentioned before. I guess what I mean to say is that I'm not sorry for kissing you, but I'm sorry for the consequences that might bring. Childish, I know, but true nevertheless."

For a man so taken aback, he processed the information with astonishing speed. Not sorry for having kissed him. Not sorry, not sorry, not sorry. Not sorry. A full smile softened his features and he went to her, heart pounding. If his voice had been any lower, she wouldn't have heard him, he was sure, but what it lacked in volume it made up for in fierceness.

"You will never be a burden to me. Never."

"And if I kiss you again?"

Taking a leap of faith that he had vowed never to take and swallowing down twenty-one years of pain, Severus didn't answer; he simply kissed her.

This time Hermione was ready for the torrent of sensations that had overwhelmed her before. She took her time kissing him, exploring his mouth with her tongue and running her fingers through his hair.

He tasted like home.

---

Dawn found them lying on the floor, their heads leaning on the sofa, still kissing. Both knew that they should talk, that there was much to be said, but neither could be persuaded to free the other's mouth long enough for that to happen. Finally, some time after the sun had risen, they fell asleep in each other's arms, covered only by a thin blanket he had conjured for them.