To Hell in a Handfasting
by Juliane

Chapter 5

The usual disclaimers apply - all characters are JK Rowling’s, except Viviane Chance.

Severus turned and sighed, not willing quite yet to awaken, but the sound of water rushing into that monstrous tub of Viviane’s would not let him go back to sleep. Something was bothering him. Staring up at the ceiling, he wondered just what was poking at his psyche this morning. He hadn’t killed or tortured anyone for a good long time, and the students had kept well out of his way after he’d used the handy ‘penis on the forehead’ spell on Susan Bones for laughing at his married state. The impossibly-perfect American exchange students had taken to calling her Susan Boner. Severus didn’t quite get the joke, but since it appeared to be malicious in context, he was beginning to have hope for that wretched group of heretofore glowingly beautiful, happy, and sweet imports. At least, he thought, they were all in Gryffindor, therefore not his problem, and had gotten well over the tragic deaths of all of their parents. Perhaps Viviane had been coaching them upon that point.

Racking his sleepy brains for a clue to his unease, the only thing he could recall that had been any different yesterday was that Viviane had turned in early. She had a full day of classes following a morning appointment with Dumbledore at....Snape glanced at the clock.

Nine o’clock. It was 7:48 now. She must have set her alarm for eight o’clock, and instructed the house elves to start the bath at quarter till the hour, Severus decided..

With a few blinks and a snort of surprise, Severus realized that his state of mind was connected with the unusual events of the previous night. Since the non-dinner party and after returning from their honeymoon, he and Viviane had fallen into a cozy routine of spending the early evening in his dungeon, then going up to her rooms after dinner for a drink and bed. Last night had not been nearly as pleasant, spending the last few hours alone with his cauldron, and coming upstairs to find her chambers dark and she herself asleep. He had had an anecdote he’d been dying to tell about Astris Wellington-Bunsonby and a multiplying potion she’d spilled on her breast; the lost opportunity to make Viviane laugh rankled, somehow.

Lying still, he tried getting used to the feeling of missing someone as he’d missed her last night. Missing her presence by his fireside, the contemptuous flare of her nostrils as she read, the opportunity to throw out a question to her about the potion he was brewing. No sane person would let her touch a cauldron, but her grasp of Potions theory was, he had to admit, rather spectacular. He’d been surprised by that, as well as at how industrious she actually was in preparing for her classes, considering the disasters they usually turned out to be, and the two of them spent hours in companionable silence, he brewing and she reading, occasionally interrupting each other with a comment or a hilariously cruel anecdote about one of the students. Severus glanced over at Viviane, sprawled out in her usual complete surrender to sleep, then reached out for her. With a murmur, she spooned back against him, her hand closing over his.

The gesture drew her out of her deep slumber, and as she wriggled back against the warmth of Severus, she allowed herself the tiniest smile of disbelief at where she was - in bed with her husband. Viviane never thought she’d be a player in that particular scenario, but surprisingly, it was rather nice. Nice to curl up by Severus’ hearth with her research, and have him there to answer whatever questions her lesson plans might bring up. Exciting to learn how to be able to call a gleam of amusement or admiration into his eyes at will, then admire their dark-as-a-stagnant-pond beauty. She’d even almost gotten over being mortified whenever he caught her doing so, and his nasty, one-up-on-you smile had mellowed into something like embarrassment. And then there were the unaccountably jealous looks she’d gotten from numerous females as word of the handfasting got out. She’d never noticed before, but perhaps there was something rather attractive about Severus, besides his eagerness to satiate her own particular needs.

Even some of the female students seemed to be ensnared by Severus’ mysterious charm. She’d surprised Pansy Parkinson and Parvati Patil speculating about her husband’s underclothing instead of practicing their Turbulence Curse, which she punished by immediately Charming off their clothes. Parvati was especially mortified when it became evident she eschewed underclothing altogether, but was speedily consoled by the plethora of boys asking her for dates, with even a few Slytherins expressing interest. And Pansy...Viviane made a mental note to do some undergarment mentoring with poor Pansy. Then there was the grilling she’d gotten from Hermione Granger, ostensibly for her Muggle Studies class, on the consummation rituals of wizards versus Muggles, which, although she said she’d chosen to interview Viviane for her vast experience in both worlds, seemed to focus rather intently on the practice of one wizard in particular. Viviane fell back asleep, wondering just what it was about that wizard that caused such a furor in witchy hearts.

As Viviane settled into the curve of his body, Severus continued to mull over the strange change in his life. To his still reverberating shock, he was finding that marriage to Viviane wasn’t so bad. It certainly was rather satisfying to face Malfoy these days as husband to a Devereaux, and be able to casually mention how pleasant their honeymoon had been at the family villa in Nice. Viviane had never been to her parents’ summer home, and they had had a splendid time going over the magnificent house, perched on the edge of the Mediterranean. If only she had agreed to black out the windows of the sun room to make a potions laboratory...well, he would work on convincing her, Severus decided.

Noticing that the clock had sped on to 7:57, he stretched out one long arm to slap the alarm bell off. The clock pulled in the switch as it fell off the night stand and rolled under the bed. "It never ends," the timepiece sighed. "Why couldn’t she have married that nice redheaded lad that used to stop by?"

Tightening his grasp on Viviane, Severus nuzzled through warm hair to her ear. "Time to get up, wife,"he intoned in his most bone-vibrating voice.

"Mmmm...damn," mumbled Viviane. "What happened to my alarm, husband?" she asked, turning around and sliding beneath him, draping her arms around his neck.

"I turned it off, my other half," he said, pushing errant hanks of hair away from her face.

"May I ask what time it is, my consort?" Viviane ran her fingers through his oily/silky coiffure and began to laugh.

"Time for your bath, spouse."

"Legal mate."

"What about ‘lord and master,’" Severus queried, before succumbing to laughter himself as he rolled over, pulling her on top of him. Even after a month, this game had not lost its charm.

"That one is off limits," Viviane whispered, before brushing her lips across his chest. "You mentioned a bath?"

"I did. But you’ve left ample time to get ready," Severus said, shifting his body in order to rub one insinuating, slightly greasy thigh against her drier, ivory one. "Besides, you were already asleep when I came up last night."

"So I was. But I didn’t want to face whatever sneaky plan Albus is probably going to spring on me, tired and reeking of the sweet juices of lust."

Severus nibbled on her shoulder. "You mentioned a bath?" He abandoned the shoulder for a kiss, as Viviane ran her hands down his chest and bent her head towards his. Just as his hands wandered to her more interesting bodily areas, she let out a screech and tumbled off of him.

A huge barn owl had bounced out of her fireplace, dropping a heavy envelope on her back. Viviane retrieved it from among the tangle of the covers, and ripped it open. Severus sat up and caught her shoulder, pulling her into the curve of his arm as she opened the thick packet. The owl eyed Malhereuse, who ruffled and glared. The other bird pretended he didn’t exist and began to eat the pet mice Viviane had confiscated from Lee Jordan.

"How odd," she said. "This is from Mortimer, of all people."

Unfolding the note attached to the top of a pile of parchment, she read the contents with a start of surprise:

My dear Viviane,

I hadn’t given you a handfasting gift yet, so here it is. I’ve sent notices about your change of status to everyone at Hogwarts and in the outlying vicinities, so you needn’t bother making an announcement. I apologize for the delay, but pushing these things through can be tricky. I’ll have you know that I called in several favors to get this through as quickly as I did. Congratulations on your new freedom, and tell that overdressed bat, your now ex-husband, to keep an eye on my favorite assassin, even if he is no longer married to her.

Mortimer.

P.S. The signatures are really yours - I stuck the papers in that pile Dumbledore gave you at the reception. That old duffer has quite a Pensieve. Did you know?

Flipping through the rest of the packet, she gasped. "Er...he’s give us...well, he’s-"

"What does that wretched gangster want, now?" groused Severus, annoyed at being interrupted on the verge of getting morning sex. "Has he given you a cache of stolen property, or perhaps a few well-preserved corpses?" He snatched at the papers.

"Er, no. As a matter of fact, he’s given us...well, we’re, er-"

"Divorced," stated Snape, his face blank as he read the documents, then threw them across the room, disgruntling the birds and creating a brief blizzard of legal parchment. "That bastard divorced us without even asking_"he shouted. "Hang around with common criminals long enough, and they feel they have a right to just up and divorce you_ Did you connive with him, in order to humiliate me-"

Viviane pulled away. "Well, it is what you wanted, isn’t it? To get out of this mess? So get out. Get out of my bed, get out of my rooms, just get out. We’re free of each other."

"I most certainly will," he stated, and slid out of bed, grabbing at his dressing gown. He gained the fireplace, but paused before reaching for the Floo powder. The total silence told him that the bath was now full. In that second, Viviane called his name, her voice hesitant and slightly desperate. The dressing gown slid out of his hands, and something made his heart feel like it had just received an unexpected gift of purest oxygen, or perhaps a draught of Ogden’s very best single-malt.

He turned around and she was standing next to the bed, naked and dishevelled, the light in her antifreeze-puddle green eyes quenched and her hands twisting together.

"Severus, I didn’t...it wasn’t¼"

He slumped back against the door. "I know." A glint stole into Severus’ eyes, one that was answered by a similar spark in hers. "You don’t happen to have know of any, er, rituals? For divorce? A family tradition, perhaps, or is there a French ritual I haven’t heard of, maybe including baths, to, er, wash away the old relationship?"

She shook her head. "No, I don’t know of any."

Severus bounced impatiently. "Well, you’re French, and the French pride themselves on creating new, faddish rituals. So..."

Viviane began to grin, and held out her arms to him. "So I am. Yes, I think a new divorce ritual including a bath is a splendid-"

Before she could say more, Severus took two long strides forward, and gracefully dipping a shoulder, swung her over it and bore her away to the bathroom. He waded into the waist-deep pool that Viviane called a tub, and slid her body down his, flesh whispering against flesh. She gained her feet but continued sliding downward, pulling him by the shoulders into the warm water until they were submerged up to their necks, limbs entwined.

"Shall I wash off the old relationship with a large helping of vetiver soap?" Viviane asked, reaching for her soap dish.

"Not now, my former spouse. I’ve got other plans for this ritual," Severus said, pulling her even closer as she leaned back to wet her hair.

"Do tell, rendered marital chain," said Viviane.

"I’d rather show you," he said, and reaching for his wand, rolling near the edge of the tub where he’d dropped it, he cast a Buoyancy Charm on the both of them. Viviane began to stretch and purr, as she found herself bobbing a few inches below the surface of the water without making the least effort. Severus unfolded his long body beside hers, running an exploratory hand down her torso. Viviane brushed a teasing hand over his bobbing manhood, eliciting a lascivious groan from her ex-husband.

"What an interesting feeling,"she murmured. "I may have something to add." Skimming her hand across the water, she whispered, "Champagne le Triton, s’il vous plait." The water began to shimmer with the tiniest of bubbles, popping against their skin in tiny liquid explosions.

"Rather nice," commented Severus, before rolling over on top of her.

"Won’t you get cold, with your back exposed like that," Viviane asked, splashing water over him.

"I never get cold with you," Severus replied, shutting out her surprised expression as he closed his eyes and kissed her, his fingers tracing her shoulder blades and playing along her spine.

She arched against him for a moment, but broke away and ran a finger down his nose. "Perhaps I’m just reflecting back what you give me, the confidence and the companion-"

They both froze and bobbed silently amongst the bubbles, embarrassment filling the bathroom like the murkiest of steam-laden fogs. Severus recovered first.

"Er, Viviane, since we’re divorced, I shall be, how do the Americans phrase it, on the warpath."

"Rebound," she corrected him.

"Rebound." Severus bent his head down to nuzzle her belly and blow a few bubbles against her skin. "That means I’ll need a lover. Do you know of any witches who might be interested in a Potions master with greasy hair, but a most impressive nose?"

Viviane sighed in a frenzy of lust, then turned her attention to the question. "Oh. That. Yes, there are a few that come to mind." She found she could, by grasping his jaw, slide underneath him so that they were once again face to face. Severus loosened his grasp on her, but left his hands in place as she moved down his body. It made Viviane’s sigh of lust grow to a shudder. "One in particular. Sweet. Pliable. Amenable to reason."

He groaned into her neck. "Sounds ghastly. I’d rather find an impossible Frenchwoman harboring scars and a mad streak."

Viviane bit him lightly on the ear. "What would you do with such a woman, Severus? I want you to show me."

"I intend to do just that, my dearest ex-wife," he told her, and to her utmost delight, kept his word.

The End.