Title: Impetus
Author: Carolare Scarletus
Universe: AU (Mildly); Marriage Law; Abduction/imprisonment
Genre: Romance; Dark; Angst
Pairing(s): Severus x Hermione; Multiple
Timeline: 1996-?
Characters: Albus Dumbledore; Severus Snape; Hermione Granger; Harry Potter; Ron Weasley;
Summary:
It takes more than two seemingly opposite attractions to come together for a higher purpose. After the fall of Voldemort, what is there left when all hope seems to be lost? For one man, it's the decision to take the road often taken. For the woman that found her way into his heart, it's up to her to stop him.
"What is your purpose, Severus?" Dumbledore asked weakly. "I do know you have one, but what is it? If you cannot justify your hesitance, then you must discover your reason from prolonging your bitter existence. When you do, you will either finally be set free or finally reacquaint yourself with what you have been missing."
The choice between life and death has never come to a greater driving force between love and hate.
¸.•*¨~-`*`-~¨*•.¸
Impetus
A Driving Force
Chapter One
The Beginning
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*.-"-.*
A call came on a silent evening,
And it was this whisper that promised so
Death stood quietly at the ancient door
Drawn to the shadow of eternal tour
A battle raged deep within
Torn between the fire
And the life to win
The veil to the end that he so fought
He soon almost came to find life was not all for naught.
In this decapitation of severing lies
And finding the driving force to life's unfair strife.
*.-"-.*
Albus Dumbledore has known tragedy. He has faced the conductor of fate, felt the cold hands of insanity, and caressed the bonds of time long before dawn even searched for a break on the horizon. He has known darkness as it has known him. And yet, as he stared into the night cloaking the surrounding land and the skin of Hogwarts, it has never felt so impersonal. There was a distance that he could not place, and he wished to address before the night was gone.
He stood with his hands placed on either side of the basin, his fingers spraying about the pristine gloss. The moon casted an eerie glow upon his face, and he couldn't help not draw his attention to the glowing orb as if asking what to do next. It has been almost two years since to the day that the threat to all humanity came back to existence. His feeble attempt to reign over the world had almost been forgotten. That is, until one of the few people who cared to listen, much less knew the truth, proclaimed to the world of his return. It was only recently that they cared to pay the boy any attention. A rude awakening had come to them all.
Albus stared almost hypnotically into the pensieve. The images that came forth from the disturbed, ivory substance had not be any help to him until now. Through the branches of his memories, he was able to find one of the first valuable pieces of information he was longing to share. They were dark images, images that he did not wish to see without the attendance or the company of another individual. He needed another opinion, someone to bounce of his ideas and worries off. Perhaps then, he could make better sense of it. For now, there were far more pressing agendas to attend to.
The night was still rather young. The feeble Headmaster-
Through the looking glass of his board, he could make out an approaching figure. His clothing bled into the straining environment as it pressed into the corridors in which he traveled. He watched as he feathered away, basking in the night, patrolling the darkness as if it certainly were an old friend. His pace quickened, and as Albus watched, he could see the sort of physical strain brought about only by torment and neglect flash across his features. He looked like a lost child searching for his mother. The way his eyes scanned the portraits, the sleeping faces of the canvases, snoring statues of iron and brass broke him. So much like the teeth of a crow, it tore at his insides until nothing but guilt and regret was left in wake of its searing touch. Oh, yes. Albus was regretful. So regretful in fact that he could not even bear to look him in the eyes when he finally barged in, soundlessly, and stood motionless behind him.
"You have made your presence known, Severus." Albus said in a gentle, neutral tone. Signs of distraction laced in his words. "It has also come to my attention that you do tend to forget that I am in possession of one of Moody's infamous mirrors. Am I correct?"
"You called, Headmaster?" came his stiff drawl.
"Alas, some mirrors are all too frightfully untrustworthy," the older wizard sighed. There goes a fine evening of trying to break the thick glass that separated them. Severus had never been one for jokes; although, he had believed that for once the boy he saw grow up would open up long enough for any resemblance of amusement to take root. Alas, his attempts were to no avail. After some time, a mutual understanding was given and the two set out to go about the routine they have come to grow accustom to all these weeks.
While Severus hurried about the room, waving his hands about the room and conjuring all sorts of useful implements he set out to prepare the night for one of the worst rehearsals. This nightly ritual of flying books and hissing objects was an old symphony that Albus which to annihilate. He did not voice this dark wish, however. He turned to Severus, watching indiscreetly as he prepared the cauldron for another night of torturous brewing. For months, it seemed, they have been doing this. Although the inevitable could only be prolonged for so long, he was glad to see that his most trusted ally was trying to comfort him the best way he could.
Death couldn't touch them unless there was a spoken alliance. Albus sourly hoped that Severus' time was far from the present moment, but he couldn't bring himself to dwell on such matters now. He was perfectly content with death's decision, even though he had forced the decision upon him through his reckless actions, or as Severus so kindly stated.
Oh, yes. He was very reckless. So reckless that it disturbed him. It was an obsession, really. One that had taken residence in his heart, and perhaps his soul. He could easily place such day in time; it had been the very day that he had travelled to a little orphanage and made acquaintance with a boy with dark brown hair and haunting eyes. A boy with absolute no regard to human capabilities, and found pleasure in even the vilest of tasks. It was then that Albus had found fascination. It was then that he had inspired to chase it.
"How is it coming?" he asked instead, cheerful.
Severus took a moment to respond. Shock flashing across his features before flickering away like that of candle light. The corners of his eyes twitched; he was very much annoyed, not prone to any sort of conversation. Potion making was supposed to be a quiet affair, Albus knew. So, why did he look so stricken with worry and fear?
"It is coming," he drawled, his voice slow and measured, as if he wasn't sure if he could speak his mind openly as he has always been able to," along. It will take another three hours to fully cure."
"I suppose we can wait around until it is complete."
"Indeed." Severus paused. "Your hand is stabilizing nicely. Have you been taking the potions I have brewed?"
The Potion's Master came up to examine the rotting flesh that was once pink with life and flowing with blood. With a quick work of his hand, Severus lifted the sleeve of his robe and looked taken aback by how quickly the curse had progressed. In almost a year's time, Albus would be either fully doused with the diseased or dead from its awful affects. Either way, the damage was done. Death would be absolutely painful, and there would be nothing he could do about it. He would die a slow, agonizing death. Albus did not look the part of a troubled man who had been diagnosed with an incurable disease; he looked perfectly content with it, in fact. As if death was just another means to an end.
Albus knew very well what he was thinking but chose not to nourish it. He would continue to take the blasted potions, do whatever needed to be done to keep him sane and safe. As awful as the potion's were, the nightmares, the attacks that pushed until the early hours of the morning were, he was perpetually happy. Like a summer breeze passing through him, he accepted the consequences of pursuing the darkness.
"Every night since." Albus admitted brilliantly. "I do not wish for things to end on a bad note, Severus. What we discussed last time must be left just that, in the past. Don't you agree?"
Severus made no move to agree or disagree; he merely turned to keep an eye on the potion. Neither spoke, neither moved. Both basked in the haunting lamp of the uncontrollable.
"What happened then," Severus drawled slowly, keeping his back turned away from him as not to allow the Headmaster to see his face," has long since been discarded. We both acted irrationally."
"Then you must understand why I had acted in such a way?"
He turned slowly around, his eyes darkened as they narrowed into impossibly small slits. While he whirled around to confront the Headmaster, the potion's brew noiselessly behind him.
"I understand," he said, his voice tight," why you did."
He had been a fool. He was man enough to admit that. What happened during their last session was pitifully embarrassing; neither of them had wished ill-will toward the other. It was their nerves and rising exchanges that caused a rift to form between them. He hoped to amend that.
Albus sat back in his chair. He kept a watchful, almost fatherly eye on Severus as he turned back to the cauldron and raised his hand in the air. Something, like a whirl of fuzzy light, came flying to him. It was always something to watch the young Potion's Master at work. There was a sort of art to brewing potions and lifting disastrous effects. Thus, bringing him to the situation they found themselves in. Albus knew he was only keeping himself alive long enough to sort things out. He needed him to understand, to agree to the arrangement. Even temporary, he didn't know how long his nerves would last. The witch he had chosen was incredibly brilliant with ever sense of the word. Smart, beyond her age, beautiful within her own reason if he were to be honest. But, would Severus see that? For someone so traumatized by his past, he surely did not live in the present moment.
How can he be so vain to see? To be so impoverished to the most vivid world of their own? How can he be so blind to see what he has been missing all these years? For someone who had solemnly reclined to being introverted for a majority of his life, why was it so hard to see that he was missing out on all things that humans should strive to obtain?
He hoped he would be the one to change him.
If not, then her.
"I take it that you have reconciled since we last met, Severus?" came the old Headmaster's genuine retort. There was a twinkle of amusement in his voice. Of course he was only trying to spar him on.
Again, Severus did not answer but Albus knew him well enough to know that it was of positive reception. He hoped he wouldn't be only one, either.
"Wonderful." Albus clasped his hands together and walked over to his desk. He sat down, waving his hand and conjuring a tea pot and two fairly nice cups. Dishes and pastries flew like birds around them before settling down on his desk. Albus reached over and picked up an exceedingly scrumptious looking apple tart and said," Why don't we have a snack while we wait? You are looking rather starved, Severus. Come, I had the house elves bake these and I'm sure they would love it if we catered to their inviting welcome."
A moment passed before he spoke. "I do not wish to partake in sweets, Headmaster." Severus' baritone voice echoed hauntingly through the gates of his office. "You have called for me on urgent news. I do hope you did not summon me on the accordance to waste what little time you have left. Besides, I do not like partaking in such rotting treats."
"Time," he considered the word carefully. "Ah, yes. Time. Something that none of us are entitled to, but surely wish that we had more of."
"Enough of your riddles," he hissed, slamming his hands on the wooden surface of his desk. "Have you any news or not? A simple question, I assure you, Headmaster."
"Is it wrong of me to want to spend some time with you, Severus?" asked the older wizard.
Severus snatched his hands from the desk as if it was an open fire and glowered at the old man. During this exceptional display of restrained habit, Albus was able to seek what he had been searching for. He had been dreading this night, this conversation. He was not blind or deaf to the rumors, to the speculation that circulated through the Wizarding World. It had been in the tabloids, all the newspapers and papers, having been the main title of interest for quite some time and it would have been astounding if it didn't somehow reach his ears and attention. He was a man of constant means, after all. A man who craved knowledge as much as the brighter suiters did, even more than himself. Albus had to be delicate with him. Any wrong move or misplaced word and all hope would be lost and his last command would be completely fruitless.
Time was indeed a virtue that he wished he had more of.
What he was about to ask him could only serve him or ruin him. Severus would not readily comply, so he heavily relied on a more tactical approach that he hoped that he would not see through.
"You know damn well that you did not call me to share a cup of tea and have our fill of pastries like some glutton beast." Severus hissed, his voice rising, his eyes darkening. "I am afraid to disappoint, but that is not why I agreed to humble you with my company. Either tell me why you really called me here for, or I will take my leave until the next night you require my potions."
Albus was quick to misjudge his anger. It was misplaced, as it always was. He couldn't very well allow him to speak to him in such a way, though. Not when time was truly whining down and the next day was just within their greedy reaches.
"If you must speak to me in such a way," the Headmaster set his teacup down and looked at him through his half-mooned spectacles," then at least give me the curtesy to say it straight to my face, Severus. I believe anyone would find it rather rude of you if you would not at least give them that."
Severus did not give him so much as the curtesy to choose his words wisely. He collected his thoughts rather quickly and forced them out through a stream of a nastily assembled tune.
"If you had wished to be spoken to with such welcome, Headmaster, I would not have bothered showing up." The black-haired male drawled slowly, delicate with his words as a sneer flickered ever so quickly across his face. It left a profound half smirk to stay upon his lips, much longer than Albus would have excepted. "However, I suspected you summoned me for important matters, and I would not wish for you to think of me as incapable of at least lending my ears. I have given you my word, have shown up when you needed me the most. I have given you every bit of my welcome as I possibly can, so the least you can do is be straightforward. You have come to mean more to me than just a professor, Albus. I am in your debt, as always. I do not have all night"
"I am aware." The Headmaster murmured softly.
Severus slammed his hands on his desked, leaned in and hissed," What is it that you wanted to discuss with me?"
Blue stared into black.
Light pushed against dark.
Albus' heart quickened and it was not long before he finally cracked.
"I called you here to discuss a rather important law that has been passed quite recently. One I am sure that you are fairly familiar with, as your name is one of the man chosen suitors."
"I am aware." Severus said slowly. "I do hope you did not call just to discuss that horrid law. Christ forbid that it even captures your attention."
"It has."
"What are you trying to say?" He narrowed his eyes, voice tight and jaw clenched. "Well? Spit it out."
"It has come to my attention," he clasped his hands together, brought his elbows onto the desk," that you are to choose a qualified witch to become your wife."
"I refuse."
"This hardly up for rejection, much less negotiation, Severus. You must choose a witch in the next sixty days or risk being thrown into Azkaban, or worse."
"How ideal that would be," he snarled. "You would love to see me whisked away by the Dementors and sent into the filth-infested bars."
"I would rather not."
"Oh, yes. You would rather not have one of the only trustworthy spies thrown to the horrid beasts, yes?"
"Do you not understand the situation?" barked Albus. "Fudge passed the law in hopes of securing the Wizarding World! How can you not put forth your faith, set aside your difference, and proudly serve?"
"What a disaster if I have ever seen one!" snarled Severus. "You know very well he is only trying to save his own neck by passing that damn law! Why else would he do it? The Dark Lord may be gaining power, but that does not mean we should subject ourselves to such degrading consciences. How can you be so calm as to say it is ethical?"
"I have never said that, Severus."
"You might as well have." He said calmly. An air of impregnable darkness hung over him like a cloud of misfortune. Albus almost appeared like he could see it. "You might as well have been the one to sign it, to write the law up. Why is my involvement, my corporation so precious to you? Why was my name placed on the list in the first place?"
"I put it there."
"In hopes of what?" he quirked an eyebrow, eyes widening slightly. Ah, yes. This was what he was looking for. The surprise, the immediate shock. Was is so much as a surprise that Albus had been the one behind putting their names on the list, hoping that they would be selected for one another? "Of running yet another life for your nefarious exploits?"
"Do you really believe that I put your name to exploit you?" Albus' voice echoed like a growing ring of a loud bell. "Is being married so much of a burden to you?" The Headmaster stood then, stretching his long fingers across the cold face of the desk. His blackened hand had been the marvel between them for weeks; now, it was this damned law that had only been past just this month. "Voldemort is gaining power, Severus"
Severus visible tried not to wince at the sound of his Master's name. "I am aware."
"Then you must be aware how vital it is for us to at least try to comply to the law."
"The law is an absolute last disgrace from the Minister." Sneered Severus. "He is scared."
"As we all are."
"He is hiding behind his role, hoping that the law would buy us more time. Time that we do not have either way."
Albus didn't say a thing. He rolled his good hand into a tight fist and sighed.
After some time, Severus spoke out.
"I cannot." The Potion's Master whispered. "I cannot be saddled with some witch I hardly know."
"You will not be saddled, as you say, with anyone that you do not know. The witch that I selected is the most prestigious, someone that I hoped you would have found fondness in."
Albus went completely silent.
It was then that Severus realized something that he truly didn't think to ask. The Headmaster wished that the realization had come on a less forbidding notion.
"Who is she?"
"If you would- "
"Who is she, Headmaster?" he asked again, this time his voice rising and thundering around the room. "I will not ask a third time. I want to know of the witch who I have been unfortunate to be chosen to share the union of marriage with. I bloody well deserve to know."
"I do hope you don't talk to your future wife like this."
"Headmaster!"
Albus sighed, sat down his cup and placed both his blackened and healthy hand on his desk. He looked him straight in the eyes, dreading what was for come. Had bene for weeks, to be quite honest. Now, it was time for the great reveal.
"Hermione Granger."
"No," he hissed in a low whisper.
The twinkling gleam in his eye was all he had to work on. Hermione would be his wife in a few weeks' time, be branded the name of Snape and given to him like a laced present of absolute distortion. She would be his to do with what he willed; no one could stand between them. If only he would agree. Then he would learn to love her, and know that he had not given this incredible burden of marriage for nothing. He would learn that opening his heart and being true to it could be a wondrous thing.
"I cannot." He shook his head, his anger rise, his hands clenching into tight fists. "You cannot ask me to take her as my wife. Anyone but her."
There wasn't anyone but her. Couldn't he see that? Hermione was more than qualified; she had been selected for him for a reason. Albus saw the potential; if only Severus could see it to.
"You have to know how important she is."
"Important to whom, Albus?" He drew a deep breath in and let out sharply. "She is their best friend, his best friend. I play so many roles and the Lord is already suspicious of me. Narcissa asked me to aid the Malfoy boy in his task."
"And what task might that be?"
"He plans to kill you."
He could see just how troubled he was with the new arrangement. Between having to help the boy kill their Headmaster, and having to married to a girl who was barely of legal age, Severus was braking like a thin layer of glass under strenuous weight. He would very well be blown away if it was not for his resolve. He fought the emotions, pushed them back to the deepest catacombs of his mind. In there, he found another onslaught of disturbing images. From his childhood to finding out that his beloved death… he had seen it all.
Albus stepped over to him, his eyes begging.
"You think the boy is even capable of even doing so?" Severus did not answer. "Then I do not see why it should be cause for alarm."
"What do you intend for me to do?" he tried so hard to keep the emotion free from his voice. It broken in sudden places, but it did not betray him.
"Watch him." said Albus. "Help him if need be. You must not break whatever vow you made with the boy's mother. Every action you take now must be measured."
He walked over to the pensieve and began to extract something that he hoped he would find awfully useful in the long run. As he placed his wand to his temple, murmured the incantation, and extracted the thing lace that was his memory, Severus came up behind him to marvel at the mystery of what he was doing and demand what his next move should be.
"And of the girl?" he hissed. "What am I to do with her?"
"Whatever do you mean?"
"What am I do with her?" he bellowed. "I cannot very well marry the girl. She will drive me crazy. She is already so close to me as it is. Forcing her to marry me will only strength it."
"Do what you always do, then." He watched as the sliver of memory join the countless others. Extracting a memory was always a rather odd thing to perform. It felt very much like being tickled, but this particular tickle was strange and happened as if there was a funny little headache sprouting like a seed inside his brain. "Lie and consort."
Albus tried to make some sense of his endless tirade. Did he not know the severity of the situation; if he chose not to comply not to the law, or to even his demand, less certainty awaited him. He risked his life, the rest of his existence for something that did not even sound as bad as it seemed. Granted, he had undoubtedly chosen the last person he would want to be acquainted with; she was still a student to them. She would be marked with ridicule, subject to the scrutiny of her peers. She could very much be the laughing symbol of the castle.
Severus was dead set on rejecting her, however.
"I cannot marry her, Albus." He could not even utter her name. "She is my student, an insufferable one at that. To even request it would no doubt lead to repercussions. He will find out, and he will slaughter her. I cannot allow that."
Albus didn't think of it before, but he was gravely aware that he at least admired his wife to be. At least he didn't wish for her to be thrown completely to the wolves. What a remarkable resolution! There was some hope for him, after all.
"She needs to be protected."
"She only needs to stay alive long enough for you to use her." countered the disheartened Potion's Master." How can you be so selfish? How can you drag yet another innocent person into this battle? First Potter, then me, and now his best friend? How many more must you sacrifice? How many more, Headmaster? You only care for what they can serve you now. Afterwards, they will become nothing but a nuisance to you."
He regarded him coolly. Never in his twenty-five years of knowing him did he ever believe he would see this day. He was no stranger to his childhood, having seen it through the eyes of his young and vulnerable form. The man that stood before him was not a little boy who had been abused all his life, who had been reduced to isolation in a means to deal with what was happening to him. He saw a man who had overcame everything, who had given up his lust for the Dark Arts just to help aid a greater message. But, all the same. He saw a coward. Still a coward, always a coward. And he was very much inclined to make that observation known.
"You are a fool." The man finally crumbled into utterly dark seduction. His voice was laced with venom and unfathomably wrath. "How can you be so blind?"
"I am not the one who is blind." Severus countered with a punctuated stanza of his own. "It is you."
"Me?" Albus quirked a wary eyebrow. "It seems to stands to reason that you do not know what true blindness is, Severus. Why on earth would you accuse me of shielding myself in such a way?"
"You have always been naïve and deliberately unbecoming." said the Potion's Master. "You have chosen strategically the people you care not for. Putting them up for slaughter in hopes of using them until the last possible second. We are nothing but your pawns in this endless game of chess. Forgive me, but it seems that tables have turn oddly in another favor. You are the fool, Headmaster. Not I."
"Is this a game to you, Severus?" asked Albus. "That I move my players and kill them off in vain?"
When Severus did not speak, the older wizard continued to tap at his tough exterior, breaking him little by little by his words.
"Did you actually believe that I never put so much as a thought to this?" Albus moved, wanting nothing more to engage him further with this stimulating conversation. The potion that he had been brewing sizzled in the background, and for once he cared not if he was able to receive treatment for his diseased hand. There was no feeling or living flesh left in it, anyway. Even if he were to cut it off and place a glamor on it, the disease would still be there. It was in his blood, boiling away like the harsh embers of the hearth. No amount of ritual chants or prayer could rid him of the evil that he so stupidly sought. Severus, just like the brew, was temperamental. He would require subtle deliverance and care.
His dejection brought him to the window. The scenery was dreadfully dire; there was no time to frolic in reprimanding endeavors; they were talking not only about one person's life, but hundreds. He was not the only victim. Plenty of other witches and wizards have been subject to the new law. It was only in hope that they could remain protected. Anyone of absolute standing can pick whoever they wished, so long as they were among the qualified. Severus was a perfect example of this law; he did not come from a prestigious background, but he was noble. As noble and strong-willed as they came.
Yet, he was fighting it. Fighting the law, fighting him. It astounded him to know end that Severus would even consider being so closed-minded at a time like this. As horridly unconventional as the situation was, Albus couldn't help be reminded of a darker presence. One he was sure would rile Severus up and at least cause for a shift in his perspective.
There was no doubt in his mind that Hermione would be just as quick to reject the arrangement. He feared that she was learning about it this very moment. Only the older witches and wizards were allowed the gift to know of the new law before it was passed; she would be finding out about it soon, perhaps not until the start of the new term. He hoped against the odds that she would a bit more open-minded; it was not every day a woman was to be married, even if it was to someone they despised. He wished that they could at least try to be of use to one another. He saw the potential like it was staring him right in the eye. He could see how beautifully redeeming it could be for Severus, and how fulfilling it could be for Hermione. The reception, if anything, would be one of odds and Albus was going to make damn sure that it was held with mercy.
"Do you honestly believe that I did not plan this out?"
"Do you ever not?" Severus spat.
Albus let out a defeated, dejected sigh. There was no way of getting through to him; although, he would try.
"I must ask you, Severus," the Headmaster stared out into the open window. A gentle, soothing breeze rocked them. There was hope, it whispered. "What would Lily think of this arrangement?"
He turned from the window and stared at him.
"What are you-"
"-Implying?" he finished his sentence for him. "Yes, I knew you would use that word. As I knew you would act like this when I laid out my proposal."
"If you knew," he said through a clenched jaw," then why did you bother summoning me?"
"I needed to know." His voice was utterly weak.
"Needed to know what?"
"If you were up for the challenge of redemption." He said. "You are hiding in your past, Severus. Any fool can see that. You have allowed it to fester inside of you until it consumed you. But I see a light in you. A light I have never seen in anyone who has been so abused, so neglected and held in the dark."
"Perhaps it is better for me to stay where I have been thrown." Severus replied darkly. "At least I know nothing bad could come of it."
"Then why not accept it?" asked Albus. "Accept my proposal. Do with her that you could not do with Lily."
"I cannot."
"That is exactly what I am talking about." Albus turned to face him, his brows furrowing in the most dejected expression. "You are afraid."
"I am not afraid.
"She can save you."
There was physical barrier between them. Both men stared at one another, neither daring to speak, barely able to breath. Severus was on the verge of exploding; his eyes grew impossibly dark, his hands clenching at his sides as his lips thinned and the skin and muscles of his face hardened. He was seething. He was so incredibly angry.
Severus narrowed his eyes. He had hit quite the right nerve. "How dare you? How dare you even hint that some girl can save me?"
Of course this was a sensitive subject for him. How was a girl of sixteen, soon to be seventeen, going to be able to redeem him?
"You believed that Lily was your salvation at one point, Severus. Why is Ms. Granger any different?"
"I believed wrong." came Severus' heartbreaking reply. "I will not sink so low ask to risk another life being taken. I am already reaping what I have sewn. I will not hold the life of another person in my hands. That is not my purpose anymore."
"What is your purpose, Severus?" Albus asked weakly.
This question seemed to unnerve him because he did not answer right away. He had an inkling of what it could be; he was not so ignorant not to indulge him.
"I do know you have one, but what is it? If you cannot justify your hesitance, then you must discover your reason for prolonging your bitter existence. For not coming to terms with the past. When you do, you will either finally be set free or finally reacquaint yourself with what you have been missing."
Author's Note:
Marriage Laws are laws used to ensure the safety and the continuation of a bloodline. Opposing individuals are bonded together in hopes the two will come together and produce an heir. The longer it takes for an heir to be conceived, the more their magic is taken away. They are cursed in such a way so that they have no choice but to comply.
I believe the compatibility of people steams from the connection of their souls. There needs to be a balance in order for any kind of emotional or spiritual enlightenment can be achieve. For Severus and Hermione, this comes in the form of trusting one another, of opening themselves up long enough and adequately enough to test their partner's trustworthiness and intentions. I won't say anymore, as not to ruin the entire plot, but I can say that you are all in for a tremendously satisfying, frustrating, and emotional ride. So, climb on board! :) The Coaster is about to take off!
Wrheee!
Thank you worrywart for proof reading this chapter! I didn't ask you to, but I was very anxious to know what I was missing or what had been left out. Thank you again! :)