The Mating Game

Chapter Twelve

The Turn of the Year

The next days settled into a familiar pattern for Hermione: wake up, make love, eat breakfast, go to library to work on lesson plans, eat lunch, work on lesson plans more, eat dinner, chat with Severus until bed time, go to sleep.

She had thought, at first, that she would have ample time to outline her plans for working with the first through third-year students before the start of term. However, the time seemed to fly by more quickly than she had anticipated. It didn’t help that she had to take a whole day off for Christmas. (She spent the morning with the Hogwarts staff and the evening with Severus at her parents’ house, leaving her no time for work at all.)

By the time she finished laying out the lesson plans for the winter term, it was already New Years’ Eve. Only four days remained until the students would arrive, and she hadn’t even started on lesson plans for after Easter.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when the silky voice behind her whispered, "Time to get ready."

"I’m trying to get ready!" she snapped. "But I’m just starting plans for the spring term. How on earth will I finish before they get here?"

There was a muffled snort from behind her as her husband tried to suppress a snicker. "I am talking about the Malfoys’ New Year’s Eve Party, not your lessons."

Hermione slapped her forehead in frustration. "I’d totally forgotten about that. Did we even RSVP?"

"You gave your consent for me to do so," he replied curtly. "Don’t you remember?’

"No. Not really," she sighed. "I haven’t really thought of it since Draco’s letter. If I had, I’m sure I would have bought something suitable to wear."

Severus strode over to the wardrobe and flung it open. Rummaging through the clothes on Hermione’s side, he pulled out a set of deep red dress robes and tossed it at her. Wear this. I’m sure you’ll look lovely."

She struggled out of her T-shirt and jeans, flustered, and slipped the dress on. "I can’t wear this," she wailed, looking at her reflection in the mirror.

"Why ever not?" asked Severus. "It flatters your figure very well."

She whirled around, enraged. "My mother taught me to choose your clothes carefully, because everything you wear makes a statement to those around you. Do you know what message this robe sends to people?"

"Hmmm," smirked her husband. "How about, ‘I am a woman with a lot of class and a great body’?"

"Good grief," she responded sourly. "The men may get that message–but what the women will hear is, ‘I’m still not pregnant yet.’"

"Oh," he said soberly. "Well, then." He flicked his wand and muttered a spell; Hermione’s dress loosened and the dropped waist turned into an empire waistline. "Now you look like you might be a little bit pregnant."

"Hmmph," she said shortly. But she had to agree that it almost looked like a maternity dress.

An hour later, Hermione and Severus apparated to the gates of Malfoy Manor. Like Hogwarts, the manor had anti-apparition wards on the grounds; guests were obliged to appear in the lane outside.

Hermione had always thought the whole situation a bit odd; the owner seemed eager to keep them from entering directly, yet the gates swung open automatically at their approach. When she pointed this out to Severus, he replied, "The gates are manned by a house-elf. He only lets people in if the master has approved it in advance."

As they passed through the gates, Hermione peered around, looking for the house-elf. Her husband said, "The mark of a good house-elf is that he’s never seen, you know."

"I see Peggy all the time, and she’s a good house-elf."

"I specifically asked her to be visible when I bought her. Invisible servants were…shall we say, unnerving to me, especially when I was doing work for the Dark Lord."

After glancing around in a last effort to spot the unfortunate elf, Hermione drew her cloak more tightly around her. "Well, I sure hope the poor thing knows warming charms–it’s freezing out here."

The Malfoys’ party was not a gala or ball, as Hermione had expected, but rather a small and formal dinner party. Harry and Luna were still in the entrance hall, brushing snow off of their clothes. (Luna still didn’t look pregnant–but then she wasn’t that far along, thought Hermione.) Ginny rushed up to greet them. Thankfully she, too, still looked rather thin; Hermione didn’t want to feel like the only flat-stomached woman in the bunch.

"I heard that you’re apprenticing with McGonagall now," said Harry, as Ginny led the way towards the dining hall.

"Mmm hmmm," muttered Hermione. She was not paying much attention to him because she wanted to eavesdrop on what Luna was saying to her husband.

"Any plans to become an Animagus like Minerva?" Harry was asking.

"Errr…no." (In the background, Hermione heard Luna say, "I hope you’re kinder to Hermione now that she’s not your student. I expect you are, though.")

"And which classes does she have you teaching, then?"

"First through third years only." Hermione was rather miffed that she couldn’t hear Severus’s reply to Luna. She had to bite her tongue when she heard what Mrs. Potter said next: "Well, I do suppose you are better-tempered now that you are having sex on a regular basis."

Harry’s face turned bright red. "Luna, dear," he said quickly, catching her by the arm, "I think that Padma’s in the drawing room. She was asking about you the other day…" He swept her off through a side door; as he exited, he glanced back at Hermione and Severus and shrugged apologetically.

Padma was not in the drawing room; she was in the dining room with her sister and their husbands. The ‘girls’, as Hermione still thought of them, both looked rather unwieldy with their bulging tummies. She wondered how much longer they had to go–both looked as though they were about to pop.

Parvati stiffened somewhat when she saw Severus, but turned her attention to Hermione. "Long time no see, sister," she said happily. "Did you hear? I’m having twins."

"Me too," added Padma, running her hands over her abdomen.

Hermione looked from one to another and then at Fred and George, who were beaming proudly. "Errr…great," she said flatly. "When are you due?"

"End of April," said Fred eagerly.

"Though twins often come sooner," added George.

"They’d better," moaned Parvati, rubbing her back.

Hermione felt the Weasleys’ eyes turn from her to her husband.

Severus, seeing everyone’s attention on him, cleared his throat, before announcing in his classroom voice, "I certainly hope that they are all girls. If not…I fear for the safety of my potions lab."

The occupants of the room burst into laughter; the subtle tension that had come into being when Severus first entered the room snapped suddenly. Fred and George immediately cornered the potions master to talk shop; the majority of the women began discussing pregnancies; and Hermione was left, once again, to talk to Harry.

"How’s the mansion?" she asked, after a painful silence.

"Coming along," he said, rubbing his hands together. "The exterior work is all done. The interior…will take a while, I guess. Luna has ‘visions’ for each of the rooms."

"Let me guess. Crumple-horned Snorkack heads mounted on plaques?"

Harry fixed her with a serious look. "Oh no. They’re on the verge of extinction, you see; we shouldn’t kill any."

Hermione was trying to decide whether to take Harry seriously or not when the corners of his mouth started twitching. They both burst into laughter, causing everyone else to turn and look at them. Luckily, their embarrassment was short-lived; Draco appeared in the doorway, announcing that dinner was about to be served.

After chatter on a variety of topics, the conversation at dinner turned to life at Hogwarts. Harry, in particular, was rather keen to hear how Albus and Minerva were dealing with becoming parents.

"Well," said Severus with a look of irritation, "they’ve taken to calling their baby-to-be ‘Little Lion’."

Draco rolled his eyes and muttered, "Gryffindors!" while the others chuckled.

"It gets worse," Hermione said.

"Oh?" said her husband. "I hadn’t heard this."

"No–Minerva just told me yesterday. They’ve already picked out names and both have something to do with lions."

Across the table, Ginny batted her eyelashes and piped up in a falsetto, "Allow me to introduce myself–Lyonessa Dumbledore at your service." The twins roared with laughter and even Padma and Parvati laughed so hard that they ended up with cramps in their already squeezed ribs.

The conversation for the next hour revolved around baby names: traditional versus non-traditional; family names versus unused names; names already in use versus invented names. Hermione was rather surprised to hear that Fred and George were in favor of traditional names, while Ginny was in favor of invented names; she would have guessed it to be the other way around.

Eventually, midnight approached. Champagne was poured and toasts were made; couples kissed as the clock struck twelve. Then, finally, it was time to go home. They’d had a good time, but they were all exhausted.

Hermione trudged out the door, following her husband. As she stepped into the entrance hall, she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Luna.

"He loves you, you know," she said mistily. "He worships you. Why don’t you love him?"

"I can’t make myself love him," said Hermione resentfully.

"You can. You just haven’t chosen to love him." And then Luna was gone.

As Hermione turned to find her husband, she decided that her initial assessment of Luna had been right. She was crazy, after all.

***

The next morning Hermione was shaken awake by her husband. "Hermione! Wake up! You’re talking in your sleep."

"Was I?" she mumbled groggily, as she tried vainly to remember what she had been dreaming about.

Severus scowled at her. "I told you that you were working too hard. You were saying something about ‘must finish lessons’."

"That’s odd," she remarked, as bits and pieces of her dream came back to her. "My dream had nothing to do with lessons at all– I was with my parents at the sea side."

"Nonetheless, it’s clear that your subconscious mind has been overwhelmed with thoughts of lesson plans. I think you should take a day off today and relax. Think of it as releasing tension so that you can be a more effective teacher."

Hermione thought she knew what he meant by "relax"–there was only one activity he usually referred to that way. She was wrong.

Severus summoned Peggy and whispered a command to her; the elf disappeared in the direction of the bathroom. Then he turned to his wife, undressed her completely, lifted her up, and carried her towards the sound of running water.

The tub had been magically expanded and was full of warm water, bubbles, and a rather fragrant aroma which reminded Hermione of a formal garden in full bloom. Severus lowered her into the bath before stripping off his own clothes and joining her.

"Face the wall," he commanded. She turned around, expecting him to enter her from behind, and was surprised when he began, instead, to massage her shoulders and then her back. His hands kneaded her muscles, working their way down her arms, then along her legs.

By the time he reached her toes she assumed he was ready to jump her. His aroused cock was pressing against her back, and, considering all the contact they’d had in the last hour, she could hardly blame him for being eager.

Instead, he pulled her against him and began touching her in her most sensitive area. It was something he hadn’t done since their wedding night; she’d never asked him to, as she’d been more interested in conception than pleasure.

Even though Hermione had thoughts of creating a baby still hovering somewhere in the back of her mind, he brought her quickly to orgasm, just as he had the first time. When she reached her peak and cried out in pleasure, he hugged her body against his tightly and kissed the top of her head.

"There, that was much better than lesson plans, wasn’t it?" he asked in the silky voice that she loved so much. "Shall we go and have breakfast now?"

"Severus, don’t you want to make love to me?"

"I just did. But to answer the question I think you were asking, today is just for you."

"But–shouldn’t we try, anyway?"

"Hermione, when is your period due to start?"

"Two days from now, I think."

"Then chances are pretty good that having sex today won’t increase our odds of conception. Just lie back and relax." Having said that, he slipped his right arm over her body, seeking out her clit again. As he began touching her gently with his right hand, making circles on her sensitive nub, his left hand moved around and under her leg. Then she felt the fingers of that hand slipping inside her body, stroking, plunging deeply into her

Hermione gave up all thoughts of becoming pregnant and lost herself once again in the vortex of pleasure.

Afterwards Severus dried her off, dressed her gently, and brought her breakfast in bed. He also gave her some reading material–The Scarlet Pimpernel, one of her childhood favorites. She was surprised that he’d remembered how much she’d liked that book. After she pushed aside her breakfast tray, she picked up the novel but found herself too lost in thought to read it.

Luna was right. He does love me.

Perhaps he never learned to express his love verbally, she mused as she sipped her tea. I doubt he ever heard loving words growing up, after all. But in any case, he certainly acts like he loves me.

She regretted, for a few minutes, that she did not love him in return. She enjoyed his company. She admired his intelligence, his skill as a potion-maker. But she did not love him.

Then it struck her. Maybe she couldn’t feel the warm fuzzy feelings she used to feel for boys of her acquaintance. Maybe that sort of relationship would always elude her. But Severus was good to her; she could be good to him. She had promised him as much on her wedding day. Back then, she hadn’t really understood what, exactly, she had given her assent to. Now she realized what he had meant by "making it work".

Yes–she could be good to him, even when he was annoying. She’d done as much for Harry and Ron during her school days. How’s that for a New Year’s Resolution? she thought. Be nice to my husband. What a novel idea.

For some reason, she wasn’t upset when her period started two days later.