Chapter 2

Arrival

Hermione hadn't told her parents about the marriage, because she held hope in her heart that she would find some way to escape it. Besides, she didn't want to hurt them.

She hadn't told Ron or Harry about it either. In fact, she hadn't written them at all since getting the Ministry letter.

"I'm going to get Emily from the airport," her father called to her. "I'll be back right away!"

"Okay, Dad!" Hermione yelled back. She turned and inspected her room. It was even cleaner than it usually was, and a cot lay next to her bed. She figured there was enough space for Emily to put her suitcases.

Hermione felt a little strange, looking at her room. All her textbooks and quills had been hidden away and her robes tucked into the back of her closet. Emily was a Muggle, and it wouldn't do to violate the International Statute of Secrecy.

Hermione sighed. Although she'd done a rather good job appearing cheery and normal in front of her parents, she felt as if, everyday, there was lead in her heart. It was impossible to forget that she was bound by law to marry a man twice her age, a man who, on her top ten list of eligible bachelors, would be number eleven.

"There's a reason he's single," she fumed, angrily wiping away a hot tear. "No one wants to marry him, and I'm the one being forced to."

She recalled a horrid moment from her fourth year. Malfoy, that horrible, horrible boy, had hit her with an Engorgement Charm, and her teeth…her teeth…

…Hermione, whimpering in panic, was clutching her mouth.

"Hermione!"

Ron had hurried forward to see what was wrong with her; Harry turned and saw Ron dragging Hermione's hand away from her face. It wasn't a pretty sight. Hermione's front teeth—already larger than average—were now growing at an alarming rate; she was looking more and more like a beaver as her teeth elongated, past her bottom lip, toward her chin—panic-stricken, she felt them and let out a terrible cry.

"And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice.

Snape had arrived…

…"Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!"

He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth…

Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."

Even nearly two years later, the injustice still rankled with Hermione, and she was finding it harder and harder not to hate her Potions professor. She thought wildly of herself in a white dress, with droopy, greasy Professor Snape by her side. She stifled a sob.

The door slammed. Hermione sat bolt upright. Emily was here!

"I'm fine, fine, Uncle!" a perky voice sounded from downstairs. "I can move my luggage myself!"

Hermione checked her eyes in the mirror for signs of redness, then bounded downstairs. A tall, slim girl stood in the hall, easily pulling two suitcases along. The girl, Emily, turned when she heard Hermione's approach.

"Hermione!" she cried, putting her suitcases down. She stepped forward and hugged her cousin. "I haven't seen you since we were little!"

"I've missed you so much!" Hermione replied, her heart already lifting at the sight of her lovely cousin Emily, who flicked her straight honey-colored hair back and smiled, her green eyes shining.

"Show me to your room," Emily said, "I need to put these down."

"Oh, I'll help!" said Hermione, and quickly grabbed one of the suitcases before Emily could stop her. Hermione paused.

"This is really light…" she said, puzzled.

"Oh, I um, don't have much in that one," Emily said hastily. "And the construction is very, erm, revolutionary…really light, you see."

Hermione shrugged and lifted the suitcase upstairs, with Emily following close behind. As they entered through the doorway to Hermione's room, Crookshanks stalked out, then stared curiously at Emily.

"Now now, Crookshanks, be nice," Hermione said, nudging the orange cat with her foot. Crookshanks peered at Emily for another moment, then rubbed himself against her ankles.

"Nice cat," Emily giggled, as Crookshanks rubbed against her legs. "He looks almost like a Kneaz—"

She paused. "I mean like a…needy cat I saw in the shelter last week."

Hermione glanced at her cousin, who looked slightly nervous, then at Crookshanks, who looked somewhat pleased with himself.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"So…what school do you go to, in America?" Hermione asked.

"Salem Academy for Gifted Students," Emily replied promptly. "It's a private school in Massachusetts."

Hermione nodded as Emily flung open one suitcase. There was a jumble of brightly colored, trendy-looking clothing, and a few haphazardly piled bottles and tubes of scented lotions.

As Hermione watched her cousin unpack, she suddenly felt drab. Her English accent felt heavy and pretentious in her mouth, next to Emily's light dialect, and her regular Muggle clothing, while nice, didn't seem as exciting as Emily's skirts and tops. And her hair….

While Emily busied herself putting all her clothing on hangers, Hermione peeked at some of the remaining items in the suitcase. There was a bottle of something, "Hair Lotion"? No, that was "Potion," but….

Holding her breath, Hermione quickly poked through the rest of the suitcase. At the very bottom...heavy black material…just like her school robes…she pulled it out and examined the gleaming badge pinned to the fabric.

"Salem Academy of Witchcraft," it read.

AN: I had a really bad day, and I'm not posting the next chapter unless I get a lot of reviews! Review and make me happy! Yes, I AM holding the next chapter hostage, you got a problem with that?

AN2: Sorry this chapter is short. But a short chapter is better than no chapter, right? Right. REMEMBER TO REVIEW!