2,086A/N: A belated birthday present to both Snape and myself. Now I promise I will go be productive...
Let me know what you think!
Chapter 32: Birthday Spankings
"She's punishing me," Lucius sipped his drink as Severus checked his pocketwatch. "I should've known she'd never be seen dining this early."
"And what have you done recently to warrant punishment?"
"Who says it was recently?" the pureblood waived his hand. "With Cissa, this could be comeuppance for inadequately complimenting her gown five years ago."
Severus raised an eyebrow. "I know you've committed several more egregious offences in that time."
"Which is why I am always on my toes around that siren. As should you be," he gestured with his glass. "Your puppy may be following at your heels now, but she'll nip when she perceives you've stepped out of line."
"Of that, I'm well aware."
"Ah, there," Lucius looked toward the entrance. "You can stop fussing, Severus. Your mutt made it through. We should've known it would take her longer at the groomers."
Severus surreptitiously glanced around before lowering his voice. "We're not in your drawing room, Lucius."
"And you know damn well you're the only one who can hear me," the pureblood stood. "Cissa's certainly had her fun."
"That's what I was afraid of," Severus grumbled, following his friend to the front of the restaurant. Beyond her elegant hair and makeup, he could see his wife sported a new velvet coat, heels, and pearl earrings.
Lucius peered over his shoulder. "I'm certain Cissa kept your miserly budget in mind."
"You have more confidence than I do," Severus met Narcissa's challenging stare.
"Darling," Lucius kissed his wife's cheek, "I thought we said six."
"Mmmm," Narcissa unbuttoned her brocaded coat. "We were delayed trying to keep dear Severus from bankruptcy."
"And here he was certain you were putting him in it!"
Severus rolled his eyes as he moved to attend Hermione. As she quietly greeted him, his gaze caught on her red lips before he managed, "I see you've survived."
Her lips quirked into a wry grin. "As have you."
"So far." When she unbuttoned her coat, he inhaled sharply at how the silver silk clung to her as it wrapped around her bodice. She turned for him to remove her coat, and he paused upon discovering her dress draped to reveal much of her upper back.
Flicking his eyes to Narcissa and back to Hermione's bare skin, Severus began to suspect he was the one in trouble.
xxxXxxx
Aching and exhausted after a long day traipsing through Diagon Alley and an even longer dinner smiling through Lucius's insinuations, Hermione trudged behind her husband. All she wanted was a hot shower and to go to bed; she did not want to speak to anyone, especially not Snape. Classes resumed in the morning, and she planned to breakfast in her room to avoid having to sit with either her obnoxious friends or her treacherous husband.
She did not thank him as he opened doors for her, though she managed a quiet goodnight as she moved to her bedroom.
Also tired but planning a few more hours' work, Severus cleared his throat. "Before you turn in, may I have the rest of the money?"
Hermione expelled a breath and closed her eyes before digging in her pocket. With a silent prayer she could escape confrontation until tomorrow, she handed over the drawstring bag and strode quickly to her tapestry.
"Granger."
Hand on the doorknob, she grimaced and slowly turned to face him.
Severus eyed her shrewdly while untying the bag. Though it felt incredibly light, he was still surprised to find its remaining contents were one sickle and nineteen knuts. "Granger! Do you know how much was in here?!"
Hermione crossed her arms. "Not exactly..."
"What the hell did you purchase?" He shook his head in frustration. "Another custom ballgown?"
"No."
"Is that bloody coat made out of pixie fur?"
"No!"
"Narcissa claimed to have paid for that dress –"
"She did."
"—and what else I see should not have cost that much."
Too tired to argue, Hermione rolled her eyes and stormed into her room. Stripping out of her coat, she threw it down on the bed and angrily pulled out her minimized shopping bags. She resized them and dumped out the pink cardboard boxes, which popped open and spilled out their contents. Tossing the bags aside, she transfigured two boxes into larger one, piled everything inside it, and shoved the lid down.
The witch paused on her way to the door. How likely is he to know how much fancy knickers cost?
Dropping the box on the bed, Hermione sorted through the pieces and picked out ones she liked best. After stashing them away, she returned everything else to the box and deliberately laid the bustier set on top. She then snatched the ribbons off the shopping bags and tied the bulging box closed. With a satisfied grunt, the girl held her head high as she returned to the sitting room.
As the door to Snape's bedroom was slightly ajar, she knocked sharply.
Severus immediately yanked the door open.
"You want to know what I was forced to spend it on? Here." She shoved the box into his chest with a false smile. "Happy birthday, darling. I hope it isn't too tedious for you."
The wizard stared after her, looking down when her bedroom door slammed. An ominous feeling in his gut, he stepped into his room and untied the ribbon with one hand. He froze upon revealing all the lacy, satiny underthings, then hurriedly reclosed the box. He dropped it on the bed, only to have it pop open on impact.
"Shit." He carelessly heaped everything back in and replaced the lid. He took a few deep breaths before shoving the box in the bottom of his wardrobe.
Dropping onto the bed, Severus ran a hand over his face. He should have known to trust his gut more than Narcissa. He should have marched Granger into Gringotts and withdrawn a significantly smaller sum for her to spend instead of foolishly waving money under Narcissa's nose.
He would just have to eat the cost of the Orders' ingredients this term. There was no way in hell he could tell Dumbledore how the money he provided had been spent.
xxxXxxx
"Enjoy your little outing yesterday?" Draco sneered during Transfiguration.
Hermione rolled her eyes and opened her book. Despite having avoided the morning paper, she was certain the torturous dinner had been documented for everyone else's entertainment. She had not slept well and had little patience for further Malfoy smugness.
"Of course, I did. Your mother is a fascinating woman."
Draco hesitated, uncertain how to accuse her of mockery without insulting his own mother.
Hermione leaned closer to murmur, "I was particularly surprised when she took me shopping for lingerie."
When the boy startled half out of his chair, McGonagall glanced their direction. "Mr. Malfoy, are you in need of assistance?"
"No, professor," he grumbled before glaring at the girl beside him. "That isn't funny."
"I wasn't joking," Hermione sat back. "Your mother has exceptional taste, you know, and we both acquired –"
"Not another bloody word," Draco hissed.
She smiled dangerously. "Did you know your father prefers –"
"Fucking shut up!"
"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall snapped. "Twenty points from Slytherin."
xxxXxxx
"Will you be joining us for any meal today?"
Hermione looked up from her homework to her husband, who was offloading a crate on his desk. "No, thank you."
"Why not?"
"Because I endured enough humiliation yesterday," she jotted down an answer. "I do not need to relive it yet again."
"I see," Severus glanced back at her, then resumed his task. "I apologize for Narcissa. I did not anticipate she would have that in mind."
Hermione set down her quill and sat back. "You didn't anticipate she would inform me of your birthday, then strip me practically naked, and explain how I've failed to sexually satisfy you?"
His head snapped up and turned toward her. "What?"
"You hadn't put that together yet?"
"Put what together?" he frowned. "I've never said that."
"You bloody well implied it, though," she stood up. "Tedious? How else should I take that?"
He sighed, recalling her use of the term the night prior. It had been overshadowed by his concerns over the misspent money. "You shouldn't take it any such way. It was a meaningless remark –"
"It's not meaningless!" Hermione rounded her desk.
"—you were never meant to hear."
"Oh, that changes everything!"
Severus rolled his eyes. "As I've told you, I walk a very fine line. Lucius may be a friend, but he cannot –"
"You could have said anything else!" Hermione shook her head. "I'm annoying, or obnoxious, or demanding, or ignorant, or whatever else you've said about me! There was no need to criticize my sexual performance – real or otherwise!"
"I seem to recall you were the one spreading tales about mine through the halls for student and staff alike to giggle over."
Her eyes widened. "That is completely different! I insinuated you were considerate, passionate, and well-endowed. I wasn't out there saying how much I loved you despite your tiny, deformed penis, was I?!"
The wizard flinched, then stifled a snort.
"So glad I amuse you," Hermione snarled, moving back to her desk. "Merlin forbid sex with me could have been the slightest of silver linings for you in this whole miserable adventure. Allegedly."
Quashing the images elicited by the statement, Severus noted her packing up her things. "I made one remark on the subject the night of the Board's inquiry. Lucius needed to assume the worst – the more miserable he thought I was, the more I could negotiate from him."
She gaped at him. "So, I'm only allowed to finish school because I'm bad in bed?"
He winced. "That isn't what I –"
"And I thought this couldn't be any more humiliating," she shoved a notebook in her bag.
Severus sighed, "I didn't think the comment would come to have any impact on you."
"No? They're your friends. You didn't think they'd try to improve your circumstances? Not even after they sent me a literal how-to book on the topic? Or the wine to loosen me up? After all, it always makes Narcissa friendlier," Hermione referenced the comment Lucius slurred at dinner that prompted Narcissa to demand he pay for the entire party's meals.
"Granger… I am sorry," he shrugged, "but I honestly did not."
"Was it amusing to you how oblivious I was to his ridicule?"
"Of course not."
Hermione stared at him a moment before shouldering her bag. "In eleven weeks, it's never crossed your mind to say, 'You know what, Lucius, she's starting to figure things out'? Haven't I always acted on your criticisms of my performance… sir?"
xxxXxxx
Since she did not have Potions, Hermione opted for a leisurely breakfast at her desk. It relieved her to note that after a week, the Prophet had finally stopped including pictures of the New Year's Eve Gala. Being bombarded by images of herself dancing, canoodling, and kissing Snape was unsettling. It only inflamed the commentary from her friends and classmates and fueled her irritation towards Snape.
Leafing through the newspaper, the witch found nothing about herself or her husband. No photos, no articles, no letters or scathing comments about her inappropriate conduct. She glanced at Crookshanks, who stared at her breakfast. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"
The half-kneazle licked his lips as he watched her eat a piece of bacon.
A loud rustling drew their attention to the fireplace, where a familiar-looking barn owl swooped into the room. Expertly dodging Crookshanks, the bird dropped a small package on her desk and snagged the remaining half of her bacon.
"That wasn't for you!" she huffed. Just as bloody arrogant as his owner.
The barn owl screeched as it narrowly avoided collision with a smaller owl carrying a larger package before disappearing back up the Floo. The second owl was less adept at navigating the hunting instincts of a half-kneazle and required rescue.
After shoving Crooks into the sitting room, Hermione turned to face the mess. Half the materials on Snape's desk were now on the floor along with her breakfast. His quills were scattered about the blotter and his chair, and an inkwell dripped red ink down the side of his desk.
"Damn it," she rubbed her face.
Once the ink had been dealt with, the witch knelt to collect his books and papers. A handful of student essays and one of his notebooks had been splattered with ink, and she cleaned them up as best she could. After cleaning the rest of the mess, she picked up the second package from the floor.
It was addressed to her maiden name in her mother's handwriting. Hermione had not received anything from her parents in a month, despite having sent them a Christmas package, and she was curious to see if her parents had included anything for Severus. Despite their recent setback, she still appreciated how he protected her family. However, she was quickly disappointed – there were no apparent gifts for either of them. Instead, the box contained two of her baby blankets, along with a few toys and books they had kept.
"Merlin's sake, Mum!" she screeched. Though there was a letter included, she was in no mood to read it. Clearly, her mother still did not believe her.
Well, it can hardly get much worse, can it? Hermione unwrapped the package from Narcissa Malfoy to find another copy of the book Of Consummation, Copulation, and Conception: Your Guide to a Happy Magical Marriage-bed. Growling, she shoved the book into the box of baby supplies and deposited the whole ridiculous mess in the corner of her bedroom.
Still hungry and feeling particularly spiteful, the witch Flooed unescorted into the kitchens.
xxxXxxx
"Madam Snape, lovely to have you join us again!" Laizment raised his teacup. "Severus has been quite lonely without you up here this week."
Hermione glanced at her husband as he seated her at the Head Table. "Oh, I think he's enjoyed having some solitude; surely he had more than enough of me over the holidays."
"Nonsense!" the man chuckled. "I'm certain he could never get his fill of you, dear."
As she blushed, Severus glared over her head while taking his seat. At Minerva's pointedly loud throat clearing, the Defense instructor realized the implication of his words.
"Oh, of course, I did not mean anything untoward," he stammered. "My apologies, Severus."
When she did not receive an apology, Hermione heatedly flipped her napkin open on her lap. She sipped her tea and waited nervously for their plates to appear.
"What in the fresh hell is this?" Severus sneered at his breakfast.
Primly setting down her tea, Hermione observed the sizeable pancake on his plate. Two eyes had been crafted from whipped cream and blueberries, and it smiled up at them with its bacon mouth. Though she debated having the elves include a large strawberry nose, she suspected that would have been a nose too far.
"Oh!" she leaned in. "Well, that looks like a very special birthday breakfast indeed."
When he turned his head to snarl at her, she briefly pressed her lips to his. "Happy birthday, darling."
"You think this is funny, do you?"
Hermione swiped her finger through the whipped cream and tasted it. "I think it's delicious actually."
xxxXxxx
Her glee only lasted until Transfiguration.
While taking notes, Hermione noticed a magazine peeking out from beneath Draco's textbook. She recognized the green shimmer of her Gala dress. "What is that?"
Rolling his eyes, the boy waited for McGonagall to turn to the board before moving the book to reveal the January edition of Which Wizard.
Though a photo of her sitting on Snape's lap had already been published in the Daily Prophet, this photo was different. Hermione almost agreed with the old biddy who wrote into the Prophet to criticize their 'lewdly inappropriate behavior', though she disagreed that she was the one to blame. It was the way his hand splayed possessively over her legs and the dangerous look he gave the camera that made it seem like the cover of one of Lavender's dirty romance novels.
Suddenly warm in her robes, Hermione forced herself to watch the volunteers' demonstration at the front of the room. As they struggled, so did she. Her eyes continuously flicked back to the magazine.
Merlin's sake, you idiot! He let a Malfoy rifle through your knickers.
It was only then that she noticed the cover text.
Which Wizard's
Wizards We Wish We Were:
Master Severus Snape
"Are you kidding me?" Hermione hissed under her breath. Before she could grab the magazine, Draco snatched it away and stashed it in his bag. "What? Let me see it."
"No."
"Why not?"
He frowned at her. "Because I would actually like to read it. I didn't get to finish the last one you ran off with."
"Mister Malfoy, Madam Snape," McGonagall called. "If the two of you cannot practice without quarreling, find other partners."
xxxXxxx
Severus narrowed his eyes as he ascended the staircase toward his waiting wife and godson. "What, again?"
As Draco snorted loudly, Hermione raised her arms and linked her hands behind Snape's neck. "It's your birthday, darling! Of course, I want to spend every possible moment with you."
"Happy birthday, sir," Draco smirked before ditching the couple to join his House table.
A loud throat clearing drew their attention to the upper staircase.
"Septima," Snape dipped his head to the passing witch.
Hermione slowly lowered her hands as she turned to watch her professor march stiffly into the Great Hall. Expelling an anxious breath, she glanced up at her husband. "I may need you to check my Arithmancy homework before I turn it in."
The wizard steadied himself against the newel post before following his wife up to the dais. Noting a glint in her eye after they were seated, he leaned closer. "If my lunch has anything resembling a face…"
Hermione smirked at him. "You'll what? Take me over your knee?"
Choking on his own saliva, Severus pulled back.
"Custom dictates to the birthday boy go the spankings."
"Not Wizarding custom," he mumbled, blushing. Fortunately, his meal arrived indistinguishable from the rest.
Passing behind, Minerva swatted his shoulder with a rolled-up magazine. "Adding cover model to your illustrious career, are we, Severus?"
As several chuckled, Snape rolled his eyes and stabbed his food.
"That photographer should be lucky he escaped!" Sprout exclaimed. "Once, I was on the receiving end of that particular glare, you know, when my NEWT class accidentally set fire to his dittany crop. I still have nightmares!"
"Do the two of you not have anything better to do than read useless drivel?"
Pomona cackled, "No!"
"Pipe down, birthday boy," Minerva smirked. "I haven't read it yet. I've only just confiscated it."
"I've read it!" Pomona nodded. "Wonderful piece. Damned disappointed I never had you as a student."
"Oh, ho ho! Now there's a naïve statement," Minerva winked at Flitwick, who chuckled and shook his head.
Intrigued, Hermione chewed slower to better hear their conversation. She glanced at her husband, who stiffly pretended to ignore them. A week ago, she may have had sympathy for him. But not today.
"Was he not top of the class?" Pomona queried. "Flo had such lovely things to say."
"He was, and he damn well knew it," McGonagall picked up her tea. "Imagine him as he is now but in a much shorter package. Except instead of assigning detentions, he was a frequent flyer."
Fork clanking against his plate, Severus glared at her. "Minerva."
"What? I think your wife might enjoy hearing about your misspent youth."
"Undoubtedly," he sneered, "however, this is neither the time nor place."
With a sigh, Minerva waved him off and found a new topic of discussion.
Hermione glumly continued her meal. She strongly suspected there was no time or place Snape would deem appropriate for revealing his youthful indiscretions. Sirius and Remus had described several, of course, but she was curious to hear alternative perspectives.
With a quiet pop, a small cake appeared in front of Snape's plate. Elaborately decorated, it boasted a single green candle in the center.
When her husband narrowed his eyes at her, she smiled. "Blow it out and make a wish."
Without shifting his gaze from her, Severus extinguished it with a lazy flick of his fingers.
"Spoilsport."
As laughter arose, Hermione moved to cut him a piece. After setting it on his plate, she kissed his cheek. "We can save the rest for later… when we have privacy."
His glare was dark. "Hermione…"
"What?" she grinned, brushing a stray hair from his robes. "A proper wife always observes her husband's birthday, even if he'd prefer a—"
"Foul temptress!"
Hermione jumped, grabbing Snape's arm as Trelawney suddenly appeared in front of them.
Leaning over the table, the odd witch pulled the cake plate away from them. "Choke him with temptation and send him into Death's waiting embrace, you will!"
As Trelawney made off with the pastry, Hermione stared after her and tried to calm her racing heart.
Severus watched Minerva storm out the side entrance, muttering under her breath what she would undoubtedly shout at Dumbledore. He then noticed the uncomfortable expression on his wife's face. "If that is what you're planning, you're going to be disappointed by the pay-out."
Glaring up at him, she slowly replied, "Of course it isn't."
Shrugging, he sat back with his coffee. "Well, if she wanted a piece of cake, she simply could have asked."
xxxXxxx
Unable to focus on her class reading, Hermione covered her eyes with her arm. You don't even like Trelawney, so why does it matter what she said? Foul temptress is far less insulting than everything she said to you in class.
Irritated with herself, the witch rolled to the edge of her bed and reached for her bookbag. She extracted the magazine she had (not proudly) stolen from a student's desk, then nestled back against her pillow. She stared too long at the cover before finding the article.
You've heard his name. You've seen his photo. You may have even sat his class. But can you truly answer this question: Who is Master Severus Snape?
"Hardly," she smirked at Crooks. "And I married the prat."
Despite unfortunate origins, Severus Snape is rising as one of the most recognized and influential wizards in Britain.
"Ha! He can't even refuse to attend a party he doesn't want to attend."
At thirty-eight (today!), Snape has accomplished more than many have aspired to. Once you come to know him as we have, you may suspect why Fate has rewarded him with True Love.
Hermione lowered the magazine and glared up at the canopy of her bed. Outside of documenting their excursions or her clothing, the press was critical of her but sung his praises.
With a huff, she resumed reading about his time as a Hogwarts student. Having seen his academic record, she was not surprised he was among the highest performing students. The glowing testimonies from former classmates and professors were more interesting since he had insinuated his professors disliked him, and Sirius and Remus claimed no one beyond future Death Eaters would associate with him.
Muffled noises drew her eyes to her bedroom door. Checking the time, Hermione realized Snape must have returned from class. She tossed aside the magazine and sat up. The last thing she wanted to do was suffer through another public meal. She did not want to sit with the faculty, most of whom had overheard her humiliation at lunch, nor did she want to sit with her Housemates, who had not heard what was said but still found it hilarious that Snape had been 'cake-blocked'.
Since it was his birthday, she could not acceptably skip the meal unless Snape did as well. Though he likely would not require much convincing on the subject, she kept envisioning Lucius jeering with him over drinks.
Moving to the mirror, Hermione pondered her reflection. She unbraided and shook out her hair, then undid the top buttons on her blouse.
xxxXxxx
"Fucking bell-ends," Severus tossed confiscated copies of Which Wizard into his office fireplace. Clearly, old Willy was hoping to regain favor after their contentious run-in through egregious flattery. He doubted the man was intentionally trying to torture him, but the result was the same.
He did not appreciate anyone gossiping about his past, accurate or otherwise, and he hated being made into a spectacle.
Rubbing his forehead, Severus sank into his chair. He had never broadcast his birthdate since there were already more than enough reasons to become a punchline. The last thing he wanted to do was face another round of public humiliation at dinner. It was bad enough to have to sit through tomorrow's staff meeting.
Hoping to delay as long as possible, the wizard pulled forth his ledger. He recorded what was needed for the infirmary and debated how much marking he could delay without having to brew more Calming Draughts for the Ravenclaws.
He heard the click of the door opening and was quickly assailed by a delectable floral scent.
Determined, Hermione placed one hand on the back of his chair and one on his desk. As she leaned in, he turned his head to look at her, but his eyes never made it to her face. Her breasts, accentuated by black lace, practically peeked out at him through the gaping collar of her white blouse.
"Are you listening?"
Sniffing in panic, Severus snapped his gaze to her face. "Yes?"
"Good," her painted lips quirked. "Now, when you and Lucius have your next little chitchat, do you know what you'll tell him?"
He breathed slowly, recognizing the rhetorical question.
"If Lucius asks about your birthday, you are going to tell him how I surprised you at this desk… how I got on my knees for you… took you into my mouth… and sucked your cock so hard that you forgot your middle name. Clear?"
Taking his whimpered grunt as one of assent, the witch shoved away from him. She paused in the doorway to their quarters. "Oh, and order what you want from the kitchens because you're dining here tonight."
Severus rigidly stared at the floor where she had stood. Only when his quill snapped in his hand did he finally breathe. Tossing the broken quill aside, he wiped his face and desperately willed his erection to subside.
xxxXxxx
Though Snape's interests have always centered in potions, Florencia Plum, respected Herbologist and former Hogwarts professor, believes he could effectively teach any of the core courses. Even as a student, Snape reputedly invented several spells, captained the Slytherin dueling team, and suggested improvements to the school greenhouses.
Hermione was admittedly impressed as she read through his accomplishments. He had mentioned royalties of some sort, but she could not have imagined how many of his antidotes and potion variants were already in use at St. Mungo's.
"Maybe I should mail this to my parents," she told Crookshanks. "The article, not the cover. Definitely not the cover."
Swallowing her guilt over ignoring their letter, the witch resumed reading about his successes as potioneer and professor.
Upon his hiring, Snape was immediately appointed Head of Slytherin House, an incredible honor given his age and lack of formal teaching experience. The decision by Headmaster Dumbledore was at the time controversial given there were other, more experienced faculty affiliated with the House. Critics were soon mollified, according to Percival Verpert of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, when Potions OWL and NEWT scores began to rise. Our sources confirm that for the past decade, Hogwarts marks on certified Potions exams have been the highest in recent history.
"I notice they don't include anything about student satisfaction," she sputtered. Maybe it's not that surprising if they're only comparing him to Professor Slughorn… if he is actually as useless as Snape claims.
Hearing Snape return to his office, Hermione quickly shoved the magazine in her bag and grabbed her Ancient Runes textbook. When he entered the sitting room, she casually glanced his way.
"Did I not give you a desk for your homework?"
"I'm mainly reading and wanted to be comfortable," she noted his pinched expression. "Staff meeting go well?"
Severus rolled his eyes as he disappeared into the lavatory.
"Of course, darling, it went smashingly," Hermione mocked under her breath.
When he re-emerged, the wizard fiddled with his sleeves. "If you intend to dine upstairs, you will have to sit with your Housemates."
She smirked at her book, suspecting he was concerned she would embarrass him further.
"And it will remain that way until further notice."
Hermione raised her head and narrowed her eyes. "What? Why?"
He rolled his shoulders. "Apparently, there have been complaints."
"From whom? Vector? Trelawney?" she asked, though she half suspected Snape himself was amongst the complainants.
"The Headmaster didn't say," he replied while contemplating whether Dumbledore had exaggerated the issue. "Now, are you luncheoning upstairs, or might I be allowed some respite from my gossiping colleagues?"
As tempting as it was to make him suffer through another half hour with the staff, she did not really want to suffer through the same with her Housemates. "It's still your birthday weekend. What kind of wife would I be if I didn't provide you a domestic oasis when it was in my power to do so?"
Snorting, Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll be in my lab. Do us both a favor and stop reading that insipid book."
"And what should I read instead?"
"Fucking anything else." At the door, he caught his mistake. "Except what's in my bookcase. That wasn't permission."
"Of course not," Hermione sighed. After he disappeared downstairs, she waited a few minutes before retrieving her stolen magazine. "But this qualifies."