Chapter 13

Weakness

Hermione dragged behind Wolf a step or two as he led her away from Gent and Prat. A chill wind blew across Hermione's skin as they edged closer to the dusky haze surrounding the circle of light. Wind or no wind, it hardly mattered. She was conscious of only two things - her hand held in Wolf's warm grasp and the distracting view in front of her. Honestly, all he has to do is show up in leather and all my resolve melts!

Wolf looked back at her. He could tell her eyes were fixed on him or rather a certain part of him. "My, such big eyes you have."

"The better to ogle you with, Mr. Wolf." Hermione replied.

"I have other, better features." His very syllables dipped and arched as a smooth marble cavorting through hills of luxurious velvet.

And it's wasted inside your pants! Her mind screamed at her. "When do I get to meet with this other feature?"

"Patience, sweetling."

Sweetling? Why can't he be like this all the time? "Where are we going?"

"Not where. What." Wolf's long strides stopped abruptly. He turned to Hermione. "Tell me, Hermione, do you know what you mean to Severus? What you are to him?"

"The love of his life?" she answered glibly.

"That's what you and all witches would LIKE to hear. Where we are going will show you the truth."

He tugged at her hand and they were off once again. The haze swallowed their forms. Time passed unnoticed. Hermione found herself face to face with a roughewn wooden door. Tendrils of light escaped from the various cracks crisscrossing the door's uneven surface. If the door was ancient and fragile seeming, then its padlock was sturdy and gleaming with newness.

"Not what you were expecting, I know, but you did ask for a few unusual things." Wolf smirked at her. "Plus, you did say that creativity gets extra points."

Hermione bit her lip eyeing the door nervously. "Which is this - body, mind or soul?"

"A little bit of everything I suppose. I shall leave the psychoanalysis to Gent. Every man has one of these doors. Within are all their secrets." Wolf ran a gentle hand over the door. "Secrets that they admit to only in their dreams, if they ever do."

"I already know about his past and -"

"No, Hermione, these things are not of his past. These are of his present, his future. As quite a bit of what's here is because of you, you have every right to know of it." Wolf palmed the padlock. The lock creaked open slowly. "Perhaps, after this, you'll understand him better. After you, my sweet."

Hermione braced herself for something horrific. Severus is no puritan monk. Whatever it is, it won't change how I feel about him. I won't let it. I won't. With these private declarations fervently thought, she stepped through the threshold. She was momentarily blinded by light. The light ebbed gradually. Her vision cleared.

Before her was Severus' private work room. Untidy stacks of books lined one side of the long work table. On the far side a cauldron sat unused. In the middle of it all sat Severus. Bits of parchment littered the workspace in front of him. From the side, Hermione could see a vein pulsing on his temple. From her experience that never bode well. Seeing her memory pillow on top of the litter, Hermione stepped closer to look over Severus' shoulder. Needle in hand, he was painstakingly repairing the tear with the smallest stitches he could manage.

"Ow!" Severus dropped the wretched needle to suck on his punctured finger. "Perhaps a smaller needle would have been better."

Hermione observed. "I forgot that pillow couldn't be repaired with magic."

"The dagger was a very good messenger." said Wolf.

Severus stood up and stretched his arms out. He walked over to a cabinet, opened it and began rummaging through its contents. A minute later Severus flung a small box hard against a wall. Its contents spilled out unto the floor. He slammed the cabinet doors shut then leaned against it. His breathing was deep and labored. "What in all the hells am I doing? This is ridiculous! She won't answer my letters. She won't let me near her. She won't listen to anything I say. How can I apologize if she keeps me at arms' lenght?"

Severus stalked back to the table and glared at the offending pillow. "Tell me, you, why am I trying so hard to fix something so irretrievably broken?"

He threw the pillow to the floor. With a swift kick, he sent the pillow flying across the room. He slumped down into his chair letting fatigue and frustration claim him. He rested his head on his arms.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something but Wolf quieted her by saying, "Keep watching."

She watched him unmoving for several minutes. Then he let out a dejected sigh. He stood up and walked over to where the pillow had landed. He looked down on it. "Not the dark lord nor all the dunderheads year in, year out, none of them could break me as you do."

He kneeled, picked it up gently in both hands and stood looking at it. "Weakness, my weakness, thy name is Hermione."

He examined his handiwork. Seeing that none of his new stitching had broken, he put the pillow back on the table. "How do I make her understand that I can't let her go, not like this."

Absentmindedly, Severus began to straighten the stacks of books and parchments. As he did so, he read off some book titles - "Reading a Woman's Mind in 21 Easy Lessons", "What a Witch Needs Is Not What She Asks For" and "The 1001 Ways of Women." His hand stopped on a worn copy of Cyrano de Bergerac. "Had I but such an interpreter to speak my soul. How do you woo when the object wants nothing to do with you?"

"Woo?" Hermione asked.

"The book, I forget which, said that we should court you. Show you how sorry we were, how much we wanted to you back." Wolf answered. "We were frankly desperate."

Severus left Cyrano sitting on the table top. He continued to stack the books but his eyes would dart to Cyrano every now and then. With all the books neatly arranged, he went back to Cyrano. As he thumbed through the pages, an idea began to form in his mind. His lips lost their grim set. He nearly ran to his office. He returned with an ancient tome that he placed on the table. Curious, Hermione looked on from the side as he leafed hurriedly through the book.

His fingers stopped moving. Hermione gasped as she saw the potion described on the page. "The Bard's Voice potion. That's one of the most horribly complex potions ever made. A hundred things could go wrong."

Hermione's eyes scanned lower on the page. "If the potion isn't aged exactly right, his vocal cords could be damaged permanently. Trevor would sound positively charming next to him. Hold on! Some of these ingredients are illegal in Britain. Tell me he didn't go through with it."

"Oh, he did. In fact, he went so far as to bribe an apothecary clerk to procure those less than legal ingredients." Wolf looked at Severus proudly. "When we put our mind to something, we get it done."

Severus continued to study the text intently while scribbling on a piece of parchment. His long hair hung loose partially obscuring his face. With a savege gesture, Severus pushed his hair back.

"I could listen to him for hours. How could he take such a chance?"

"In my opinion, he thinks with the wrong organ where you're concerned."

"I remember seeing some verses in some of the letters I burned. If I had known, I would never have ..." Her voice faded. Hermione reached out towards Severus. Her hand passed through his cheek.

"That prat, Prat, made him overdose you know."

"What?"

"Prat didn't think the sonnets were romantic enough so he convinced Severus to take a double dose. It was almost triple if Gent hadn't gagged him."

"He could have ... have -" Hermione spluttered. An image of her strangling Prat came to mind.

"It turned out all right in the end." Wolf informed her. "And I did come up with some clever couplets about shagging. Pity that Severus had no time to use them."

"This is how he came up with Guido." Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"After Severus woke up, Dumbledore forbade the use of the potion. As to using Guido, well, that was Potter's idea. Something about realism being preferable. His agent's fee was almost half a year's pay."

Hermione smiled at that tidbit. It was not a pleasant smile. "Thank you for telling me, Wolf. I think Harry and I are due for another chat."

"Can we be there when you talk to Potter?"

"You'll have a front row seat. Trust me."

Their attention returned to Severus briefly. He was now finishing his shopping list. He donned his traveling cloak and left the room.

"He's off to Knockturn Alley." Wolf sighed. "Do you see how much you mean to him? He's made an ass of himself."

"I suppose I did drive him to such drastic measures." Hermione admitted. "I was childish and stubborn."

"My bit is done." Wolf visibly relaxed. "Would you like to reaquaint yourself with my other stellar features, sweetling?"

"The others are waiting for us."

Wolf touched her cheek. "I've missed you. I'm finding it hard to remember the last time we were together."

Wonder what it would feel like? I'm not betraying Severus, am I? Hermione looked at Wolf speculatively. "Wolf, you're a part of Severus, right?"

"Yes. Think of me as a facet of his personality."

"His libido?"

"Let me make it very clear to you, Hermione." Wolf pulled her against him with one hand. With the other he tilted her chin up. "My name is Wolf. My sole purpose is to make you scream in ecstasy anywhere, any how, at any time. Any questions?"

"Will Severus remember, know of this?"

"It will be like a very vivid dream. Any more questions?"

"Just one more." Hermione stepped closer to him. "Do we have a time limit?"

Wolf growled. "I believe I'm allowed thirty minutes of intense -"

He didn't finish. Actually, his mind shut off as Hermione's hands deftly worked their magic on and in his pants. Wolf rained kisses on her face while his own hands put themselves to good use. "Table or floor?"

Hermione began to push his pants downward. "Table. Over the table. A little rough."

"In that case," Wolf lifted her easily and moved her to her desired position. His hands caressed her breasts loving the feel of them.

Simultaneously aroused and annoyed, Hermione turned her head and said, "Forget the foreplay just do it."

Forty-five minutes later, Hermione found herself walking towards the circle of light where Gent and Prat stood waiting. Wolf followed with a slight hitch in his step.

"Did he behave himself, Ms. Granger?" Gent asked.

"He did everything he was instructed to." Wolf patted Hermione's derriere as he passed by her.

Prat saw the maneuver and glared at Wolf. "You didn't?" Prat hissed out.

Wolf grinned like his namesake. "I have a reputation to think of."

"There's more to our relationship than mindless shagging." Prat railed. "You think all it takes is great, unforgettable sex!"

"When something is true, why deny it?"

Gent ignored the other two. He raised Hermione's hand to his lips and placed a kiss on it.

"Candles, soft music, a warm fire and -"

"Prat, sometimes a woman just needs a hard, sweaty, deep go and so do I!"

"Leaving bruises is not romantic."

"She needed a good f-"

"Now, Ms. Granger, it is my turn." Gent began to lead Hermione away.

"What are you going to show me?"

"Wolf has his strengths. However, I am certain that, in my own fashion, I will be equal to the comparison. Shall we?"

Prat berated Wolf as the latter proceeded to take a well-deserved nap. Hermione could be so demanding when she put her mind on something. Gent and Hermione melded into the darkness.