Chapter I - Esther Estate
The dark estate loomed over Godric's Hallow atop a far-off hill, where a spiraling path snaked its way to the high gates that enclosed it. It was out of place for the quaint hamlet and had remained uninhabited for nearly two decades, causing many whispers and countless myths told among the children. Some of the local teens saw the fortress as a rite of passage and took to breaking in over the course of time only to be driven out by lack of nerve. Ghosts, they had said; ghouls and banshees resided on the acres of land and inside the mahogany walls. Wails of agony could supposedly be heard down the way from it on only the coldest nights.
Severus Snape barreled up hill to Esther Estate through knee high snow and whipping wind. He was unfortunate enough to be travelling on one of the coldest nights and was even more unfortunate to hear the wails legend foretold, though he knew better. His travel mate struggled behind him in the winter storm but he beckoned her on and held out a gloved hand for the older witch. She huffed in pride, shaking her head but ultimately accepted guidance over the forever building snow.
"I do not understand why she insists on the collection of charms cast over this godforsaken place," said Snape through clenched teeth. They stumbled for a moment but upon seeing the warm light of fire lit through the windows of the estate, they quickened their steps to the gate. He glanced over at his comrade.
Minerva McGonagall stood straight after her long journey, dusted the snow off her glasses and laid a wrinkled hand over the key hole of the gate. The gate, clad in iron floral, quivered for a moment before opening with a creak. Snape started through behind the headmistress until she paused and gave him a solemn look.
"The girl is not the same witch you have known, Severus," said McGonagall. She turned and pressed on. Snape, not acknowledging her words, gazed up at the massive arched doors and a tightness seized his chest at their familiarity. They were like the doors to Hogwarts, doors to a place he had once called home. Memories flooded him like a dam with flashing images of the time he spent there...and then the clock tower, and the battle. His jaw tightened as he pushed the unwanted images further in his subconscious.
The former colleagues could hear the latches thud from the other side of the door and it opened. A pale face engulfed by wild curls appeared, large eyes taking them in cautiously. When convinced, the witch pulled the doors, stood aside and vaguely bobbed her head inward. Snape and McGonagall exchanged uncomfortable glances, not unseen by the girl's watchful eyes. She sighed.
"Come in. It's fine," she said, offering a small half smile. It didn't quite meet her eyes.
"Miss Granger-"
"Hermione," she corrected her former Transfiguration teacher. McGonagall paused for a moment, unsure.
"Hermione," she began again. "I cannot express how thankful I am-we all are-for accepting this responsibility. Rest assured, it would not have been asked of you if it were not necessary. If you were not capable."
The young witch nodded quietly, arms crossed and eyes bouncing from the equally quiet wizard to McGonagall. Snape's eyes adjusted to the dimly lit study Hermione had guide them to and his body finally thawed and resumed composure. He eyed his former pupil: she looked the same, perhaps thinner than he last remembered, although her hair had tamed a bit and her teeth finally buck-less. But her presence was different entirely, he could feel it the moment she fixated on them in the door way. Like a cat, blank and expressionless other than large and analyzing eyes that seemed to hold no warmth, only uncertainty. He noticed she stood like a statue and her back was stiff and nails lightly dug into her own arms. Their eyes met for a moment.
"I'll do whatever is required of me, Headmistress McGonagall." Her voice drawled in an unfamiliar way and almost held resentment. Perhaps Potter coerced her into this agreement. Perhaps it wasn't out of the goodness of her heart, at all.
The headmistress laid a reassuring hand on Hermione's shoulder and it was obvious she tensed under her touch. "Shall we start then?" Snape's brow furrowed at the exchange between the two witches. A figure then emerged from the hall, tracking slush with every step and shaking off snow. Hermione turned with a jump, seemingly caught by surprise by her new visitor.
"Harry?" asked Hermione in a confused voice. The boy wonder gave her a brief smile and embrace before turning to the rest. His eyes scanned over Snape for a moment and the old Potions Master felt the impulse to clobber him. He was perfectly content in his solitude; why the hell did he allow Potter to convince him otherwise?
"Sorry for being late, but I'm ready if you are, Professor McGonagall," he replied. Harry offered his arm to Hermione, cuffing his hand around her wrist; she responded accordingly and took a deep breath. Professor McGonagall anchored her wand at their union.
It was all too familiar.
"Minerva, just what do you think you are doing?" asked Snape, rising taller with a deep inhale and stepping closer. He knew what this was.
"I am sorry, Severus, but this is the only way. Miss Granger knows the consequences," answered Minerva, her eyes not wavering from the young woman or Harry. "Potter was sure you would not cooperate with these conditions. I would have been a recipient if we felt you would play nicely… but that is why the boy is here now."
Magic pooled out from the headmistress' wand and wove around Harry and Hermione's linked arms, pulsating softly. Snape could not believe his eyes; anger simmered deep in his belly and before he knew it, he had Harry yoked by the collar. They did not disconnect but Harry steadied his ground and met Snape's fiery gaze. How could this boy prove to be stupid time and time again?
"You know not what you are doing! You are just as foolish as you ever been, Potter!" spat the man, his grip so tight around Harry's collar that his fingers began losing circulation. A strange force began pushing him back against his heels, out from their circle. The force vibrated with power, though calm, and settled into an invisible wall around the three, keeping Snape at bay. Instinctively, he shot a curse at this unusual barrier and watched as it was absorbed and disappeared. What sort of magic…
Minerva and Harry adjusted their attention to Hermione Granger, who nodded in affirmation to continue. The old witch cleared her throat. "As your Bonder, I will negotiate your conditions and perform the spell that will hold you to them." She paused, looking once more at Hermione then to Harry. "Your conditions, Potter."
"Hermione...I need you to swear that you will protect Severus Snape at all costs. Things are different now...the wizarding world is still not safe. We need him. I-I.." Harry rambled, trailing off. He could see a furious Snape sending spells their way from the corner of his eye, just to be sucked in by the charm. He looked at his friend, worn yet standing; he thought of all the experiences that brought them there, that he asked of her and Ron Weasley. He remembered her sacrifices and the stories she only spoke of once before locking them deep within herself. Harry became unsure as he took her in, but she squeezed his arm tightly with pursed lips and a knitted brow to ground him once more. "You are his guardian, his care taker. You will house him; you cannot compromise these terms, even under the Cruciatus Curse."
"Do you accept these terms?" asked Minerva in a careful tone. The spell pulsated almost audibly now, glowing with each beat.
Why are they doing this? Why is this stupid girl agreeing to this?!
She spoke.
"I, Hermione Jean Granger, swear to uphold the Unbreakable Vow: to protect and serve Severus Snape, even at the cost of my own life; I will not compromise his livelihood, even when tortured. To fail is to die."
The vow's energy snaked around and once dissipated, the two friends unlinked arms. The mysterious force that kept Snape feet away was released and he stormed over with his wand still at the ready. He was angry; he pushed Harry into a sofa and held his wand at the young man's throat, absolutely seething. McGonagall stepped to intervene.
Snape's voice was venomous and full of daggers. "You may as well have sentenced us to death!"