Kahlil Gibran said of Love:

When love beckons to you follow him,


November 21st, 1814


The teacup clattered as the young woman replaced it on its saucer in haste. "Severus Snape is entering into matrimony?"

Minerva McGonagall shifted in her seat. "Not precisely. His mentor, Albus, contacted me to say that he is looking for someone suitable."

Hermione Granger turned that thought over in her mind, trying to reconcile the image of the taciturn older man he appeared to be in his pictures to an amorous fool like Ronald in pursuit of a wife. Something burned within her, regret perhaps, or betrayal. It was foolish to mourn his bachelorhood. He hadn't remained unattached in some sort of juvenile pact with her, as she eschewed her own suitors. Her uncle was getting more and more insistent, and she felt her own freedom drawing close with the passing of her twenty-second birthday that past September.

"Hermione?" Minerva touched her arm.

She blinked, "I'm sorry; what was that?"

Minerva's cheeks looked quite pink as she cleared her throat. "I asked if you would consider his suit."

"W-what?"

"I know how much you admire him," Minerva hurried to make her case. "You wrote rolls and rolls of parchment detailing your rebuttals to his experiments. You beg me to send you his potions essays and were positively giddy when you found out that he and I are acquainted."

It was Hermione's turn to blush. "Minerva, he doesn't have any idea who I am and… well… he is wealthy and a war hero…" She trailed off rather miserably.

"Well, it won't be easy," Minerva agreed. "He is known to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man, but he is quietly passionate and fiercely loyal. You could do worse."

Hermione took a few deep breaths. "You are saying you would like to arrange a marriage between Severus Snape and me?"

"Yes, there is nothing for it; I think you would be well matched, and I know you aren't interested in those boys who hound your steps." Minerva waited hopefully. "You can take some time to think about it, if you like."

Hermione took a deep breath, "I don't need time. My answer is yes."

Minerva's smile lit up her face. "Wonderful! The poor boy has been alone for so long."

Hermione flooed back to Granger House in a daze. Marry Severus Snape? The idea was almost too fantastical for her to comprehend.

She pulled the stack Potions Quarterly pamphlets out from her small desk and flipped to the well-worn page of Severus Snape's last essay, a very technical article about the use of chemistry sets in addition to caldrons. Next to his name was a moving picture; his expression didn't change except for one dark eyebrow arching upward. His nose was prominent and looked as if it might have been broken and set badly at some point; a deep line ran between his eyebrows, and lines bracketed his thin lips. His hair was limp and hung loosely, brushing his shoulders. The image looped, and he arched a brow at his future wife.


The Chapter titles are line by line quotes from Kahlil Gibran's magnificent book The Prophet.

Edited for grammar, capitalization & spelling on April 4th, 2013 [courtesy of renaid, who is giddy].

Hidden Jane Austen quote is from Part 3, Chapter 17 of Pride and Prejudice. That one is for you A Pirate By Any Other Name. ;]

This is a companion piece to The Farce which tells Severus Snape's side of this little tale.


A note from 2017 Yeghishe:
Welcome to my two part foray into Regency Romance. These two intertwined stories (The Farce & The Dream) were written over a period of three years: graduating college, three moves (one cross country), two pregnancies, one miscarriage, and a great amount of life change. My editor, the incomparable renaid, is still with me after four years and dedicated hours of her free time to whip my prose into something readable. Other gentle readers have contributed their knowledge, ideas and edits to the process. You will find these stories imperfect in many, many ways but they were written with much joy, research, and excitement. Thank you for your time & for every review, correction & critique.

Yours ever, Y